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spicywhenspeaking · 1 month

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If I’m There Chapter: Twenty-Four

read from part one here!

summary: Noah and Natalie met in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind.

this is a complete work of fiction, some characters while based on real people are totally made up. :)

Taglist: @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @blackveilomens@thisbicc @laurpartyprogram @concretenoah@thebadchic @madomens@samanthasgone @myownthoughts12@missduffsblog@jilliemiw86 @malerieee @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @badomenslrh @robabankfuckmickeymouse

(You're waiting for the)

Day to come when thеy will notice

(It is time to wake up now)

Fighting battlеs at your lowest

(Your fire is dying out)

Dragging every step forward

But it won't happen again

And I'm not gonna pretend

(I don't want the money)

(Want the money)

Noah sent Erin a CD with a playlist of their songs he hoped she would like. She has been blaring it loudly for days since she opened the package. She’s been listening to it nonstop and now sings along to the lyrics.

Can't say I'm mad, this is entertainment

But I want what they have and I'm gonna take it

And I'm so sorry if I'm cynical

My water's full of chemicals

I don't know what I'm made of anymore

“Sweetie! Lunch is ready!” I call out to her over the sound of the music as I place the plate I made for her, buttered noodles with grilled chicken with roasted broccoli and fresh fruit.

Erin races down the stairs humming along to one of the songs she’s been listening to.

“Yum! Thanks, Mom!” she says, plopping down to dig into her pasta. I sit alongside her and eat my plate.

“So Noah said he will be back in less than a week, we will get a few days to hang out before you go to art camp,” I mention softly and she smiles brightly. “I’m excited to see him again, we should take him to the skating rink where Ashley had her birthday party, Oh! Oh! And we have to have a game night before I go to camp.” she exclaims excitedly. I laugh and nod, “Of course honey, we will have to ask him when he gets into town.” Her smile continues to grow as we talk and I am happy to see her so excited about spending more time with Noah. She talked to me after one of her last therapy sessions and the weight of guilt has lessened tremendously after our conversation. Her little heart is full of so much love. In the future, her feelings may change and she may have more questions or even anger and I am prepared to help her with those feelings when they arise.

After lunch, I drop Erin off at Gwen’s apartment in her senior center to spend some time with her while I head to work for a few appointments I have set up. Gwen is freshly 75 and loving life in her new senior apartment complex and loves having Erin over to hang out. She welcomes us with big hugs and the smell of freshly baked cookies. “My girls, I’m so happy to see you both!” she greets us warmly. “Gweny! Omg, I have so much to talk to you about! Noah sent me some music and it’s awesome! I have to show you some.” Erin gushes to Gwen as she walks into the living room to set her backpack down. “Oh and I brought some paints so we can do some crafts, I wanted to paint the flowers you have on your balcony.”

Gwen with her arm slung delicately around my shoulder laughs softly, “You made the sweetest girl in the world, I hope you know how much of that comes from you.” I rest my head against hers and sigh contently. “Thank you, Gwen, I owe so much of her to you. You have helped so much when I moved and have been there for everything in her life. I’m so grateful for you.” I tell her as Erin runs around Gwens’ new apartment. “Well, I need to head out for my appointments. Hey, little one! I gotta go.” I call over to Erin and she runs to give me a quick hug before going back to explore the new space. I hug Gwen again and kiss her softly on the cheek. “I’ll be back later, maybe closer to 8:30. Thank you again, love you both!” I say to them as I walk out the front door and head back to the car.

My appointments go by fast today, A few line work pieces and the first session of a large back piece. On my way out the door, I get a surprising phone call from Noah.

Hey! Nat, how are you?

Hey Noah! I’m good, just finished up work for the day and I’m about to head to Gwen’s to pick up Erin.

How was your day? Any fun ink?

Haha yes, I started on a sweet back piece that will take a few more sessions to finish.

That is awesome!

So I wanted to call and ask about something.

Oh? What’s up? Is everything okay?

yes, yes, everything is great! I just bought my ticket to Austin and wanted to see if you could grab me from the airport on Thursday?

Oh! Of course, that’s no problem at all.

Are you sure? I mean I could figure out the car rental thing if that’s easier

Oh hush Noah, it’s really not a big deal! We’d be happy to pick you up.

Erin has been talking nonstop about you coming back to town. She’s making many plans to fit in plenty of activities before art camp next week.

Thank you Natty, I’m excited to see you both. My flight will land around 12 pm but our Airbnb won’t be ready until 4 pm. The other guys won’t be out until later next week.

Sounds like a plan! We will scoop you up when you land and grab some lunch, Erin will be happy to hear the news.

Have a good night Natty, Lo- Bye! *click*

“Hello? Noah? Umm okay, bye” I put my phone back in my bag, shake the weirdness off, and just get ready to head to pick up Erin and give her the exciting news.

Gwen texted me what they decided on pizza for dinner, so I quickly run through the Dan’s Hamburgers drive-through to grab a big cheeseburger and curly fries.

Eating my dinner quickly on the road I switch on the radio and turn between channels until I find a familiar female voice. It takes me back to being a little kid in my parent’s car on a long car ride home.

“Hey there, It’s Delilah here with a collection of love songs to set your night off right. I know love comes and goes and I hope you find a love in your life that brings you the most joy and fills your heart with wonder.”

Her soft voice drifts through my car and I settle into listening to the rest of her radio show until I get to Gwen’s. The love songs drift through the air…

So break my step

And relent

You forgave and I won't forget

Know what we've seen

And him with less

Now in some way

Shake the excess

'Cause I will wait, I will wait for you

“Okay, Delilah I get it! I’m figuring it out…just get off my back.” I grumble at the radio and switch it to the next station.

I may not always love you

But long as there are stars above you

You never need to doubt it

I'll make you so sure about it

God only knows what I'd be without you

“Oh fuck off,” I say as I shut off the radio and complete the ride in silence.

Erin races to the door when we get to the car, “I had so much fun with Gweny but I am sooo tired.” she slugs against the door, and when I click the unlock button she quickly climbs into the seat and reclines it back.

I laugh at her actions, shutting her eyes and curling into herself. “That’s what happens when you stay up all night listening to music silly girl.” I laugh and she groans, “I want to learn all of the lyrics so I can sing along when we go to one of Noah’s shows.” she grumbles sleepy.

“Well they have a break coming up, so you’ll have plenty of time to learn the songs.” I tell her, “Actually, Noah called me after work. He’ll be here Thursday and asked if we could pick him up from the airport on Thursday.” She perks up immediately, springing up from her seat in excitement, “That sounds great! I’m so excited, omg what should we do? We have to show him the diner and oh oh we can take him to the water park! Or we can go rollerblading!” the sleepy child I saw minutes ago is gone and she’s awoken with a new spark.

“Okay baby, we will see what he has the energy for, remember he’s coming off of a long tour, he might just want to grab lunch and hang out at the house. But we will have lots of time to do all of the things you want to.” She’s still glowing with excitement on the drive home. My appointments tomorrow are later in the morning so when we get inside the house we sit in the living room and put on a movie. Erin decides to watch “Encanto”. Haylie is in her room, probably working on her newest book but pokes her head out to say hi and double-check Erin is staying home tomorrow, with a nod of approval she slinks back into her room to finish writing, “Okay byee love youuu!” she calls as the door closes.

Halfway through the movie I look over and see Erin has fallen asleep, I finish the movie wiping tears from my face. “Damn Disney movie,” I mumble. I gently move her upstairs and place her in her bed.

When I am finished freshening up and laying my head down the last thing that goes through my head before sleep takes over. “Have a good night Natty, Love you! Bye.”

My dreams are visions of a future with Noah and Erin. We’re together laughing on the beach, building a sandcastle. I see myself pregnant with another baby, Noah’s eyes brighten up as he places a gentle hand on my stomach and kisses me. Sitting on the sand next to them my hands dig into the sand as the water washes up and the castle returns to the sea. The dream fades and twists into a new vision, Noah and I are arm and arm sitting on the couch watching a movie. The quiet domesticity makes my heart swell, the soft touches and gentle kisses. As his lips move down my neck a quiet gasp escapes me and my eyes shoot open as I vault myself up in bed breathlessly.

“Oh shit.” I say breathlessly, “Keep it together Nat.”

By Thursday morning my nerves from my dream are taking over, I feel butterflies fluttering in my stomach as we wait in the lot for Noah to get off his flight.

Noah: hey! I’m at pick-up stop H!

Natalie: Okay! We will be there in a sec! :)

Erin is vibrating with excitement from the backseat and as we turn the corner and see Noah standing with his bags smiling and waving. “There is he! Pull over! Pull over!” Erin yells from behind me. “Okay okay, I have to wait for this car to pass sweetie,” I tell her as a nervous blush creeps up my neck.

I pull up to the side and pop the trunk as Erin shoots out to the car and runs to jump up and wrap her little around Noah. “Noah! You’re back! I’m so excited! What do you what do you want to do? Are you hungry? Me and my Mom like this diner they have the best pancakes!” Erin’s voice rings out and I laugh as I throw the car quickly into park to greet Noah.

“Hey, Erin! I missed you!” he says dropping his bags on the ground to wrap his arms around her and lift her into a big hug, “lunch sounds amazing.” He turns to me placing Erin back on her feet. She attempts to grab his large duffels off the ground as I round the front of the car and the butterflies flutter again as he brings me into a firm hug. “Hey Natty,” he whispers into my hair. “Hey, Noah,” I respond into his chest. Erin struggles with the bag lifting it into the trunk. “Oh, honey -” I start but Noah quickly rushes over to help throw his bags into the back. “Thanks, little one,” he says to her and ruffles her hair.

Noah opens the back door and lets her climb back into the car while I move to the driver’s side as a parking guard starts to look like he’s heading closer. “We’re heading out!” Noah politely waves to the guard and gets into the passenger seat.

Throwing the car back into drive I carefully pull out. “So lunch?” I ask and Noah and Erin agree in unison. “So Erin, your mom says you have a lot of plans? What is first on the list?”

“Do you know how to rollerblade?”

#noah sebastian #noahsebastian #Noah Sebastian smut #noah sebastian x ofc #Noah Sebastian angst #Noah Sebastian fluff #bad omens fluff #bad omen smut #bad omen fanfiction #bad omen fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens rpf #bad omens smut #noah sebastian fic #lf Im there noah #rpf fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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cereusblue · 3 months

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https://gofund.me/96bce824

Hi, all. So, I've had a day from hell and I'm too exhausted to re-explain on another platform. But here, I'll copy paste the story here. TLDR at the bottom. If you can't help, pass it on. Literally everything helps. Love you all.

Good day all, thank you for stopping your busy day to check my page.

Let me lay out the situation as best I can.

First off, some background for myself and my family. My fiancee and I only have(had) one functioning car between us when we took in a family member of his in an emergency CPS case. We are trying our hardest to take care of her and teach her how to be a person, but our schedules and only having one vehicle has made that a struggle. She has gotten a job just last week and is working hard to get on her feet. It's great and we are very proud of her! It's part time for the time being while she learns how to manage finances and how the world works.

However, since October things have started taking a turn for the worse. Between my fiancee and I, we both worked minimum wage and in October I bent over to put on a shoe and my back made a horrible crack noise. I went to the ER in immense pain and despite having insurance, I still got dumped with a hefty bill that to this day I am still trying to pay off. I have gone through physical therapy as requested by my doctor, since he didn't want to operate on someone of my age. However, it did nothing but agitate the problem. While I can now move around again, bending over and lifting anything past 15 pounds is strenuous. I'm in pain every single day and even sitting up is difficult most days. I can't stand up for long anymore before it becomes too much on my back. But things continue to happen, as they do. I was set to come back to see my surgeon this year but on Dec 29th in the last hour of the day, my job decided that an AI system could completely take over my job and laid me off. Getting unemployment as well as answers back from my previous work has been very difficult. My benefits were cut off with no chance to refill medications or see my surgeon. So, now my continued treatment to fix my back on top of my other health issues have all been put on pause. I've been working for almost two years now to get treatment and figure out what's wrong with my health, but I am now on a desperate search for a new job.

Which leads us to today. We are already strapped for money, and on a trip to an interview and my fiancee going to work, we got taken down a gravel road that looked deceptively fine. Driving across, the ice was far deeper than it appeared and it destroyed the grill, bumper, and wheel well (I believe that's what it's called) aka part of the frame that covers the front wheels broke and are hanging. That's not where it ends. So, I took the car to get it temporarily fixed so we could hopefully figure something out to get repairs done. The car got a temporary fix, and then I proceeded to take the car to pick up my fiancee from work. He and I began our drive back home, and as we were passing train tracks a doe jumped out into the road way too close to us. She only came into view as she appeared in the lights of the car, immediately getting bodied by the car. As you can see from the image, she destroyed the hood of the car and much more. I feel horrible for the poor thing and I hope she went quickly, noticing the fur and blood on the front bumper. We managed to get the car home, but the check engine light came on. This car is a Toyota prius. Anyone who knows anything about a prius knows they are basically tin cans. So, the worry is that the cooling system is busted now too. This will exponentially increase the amount we need to pay to repair the vehicle.

The worst part is, is that this is the only car we have to go to work and for me to go to interviews. I do have a car, but it's not in running condition right now. The poor thing is a 1999 and needs some parts replaced that we have not had the funds or availability to get a list of parts and have them replaced. The car also can't move anyway right now and would need towed. The prius is our only vehicle we have, and I don't have the funds to drop on fixing it. Insurance won't pay for it as far as we have been made aware by the body shop because of the type of insurance we have.

So, this is the current estimate we have to work with in regards to repairs. The entire front, hood, coolant system, and I know a few more pieces need replaced. The prius can run and be moved to a body shop at least, but paying for it will be a nightmare. If he can't get to work, we are in major trouble. My fiancee, his little sister, and I all rely on this car for work. While I'm still looking for work, I'm very limited because of my current physical state. We've spent a lot of money on my Healthcare already and every day are worried I'm going to reach for something and have my back crack again. While we are working on Medicaid, these things are proving a slow process. They also don't cover previous medical bills when I did have insurance. So, our only choice is to live off his income currently while I'm on a search for a new job every day. Our lives depend on this one car. Especially since we live out in the woods and work is 40 minutes away.

If you've read this far, I appreciate every single second of your time. Every single hand this gofundme goes through will be a huge help. If you can't help, that's okay, please don't stress your own financials if youre in a tough spot. If you can pass this along to anyone you can, that would be more than enough. Thank you again, and I wish you all better fortune this 2024.

For those who can't read the whole thing;

TLDR; Me and my family are already going through a lot of financial troubles with my health and being laid off, our only mode of transportation is severely damaged from an unmaintained roads massive pothole and hitting a deer in the same day. Three people rely on this one vehicle for all our jobs and interviews that are far from home. Donate if you can, if not, please share and thank you so very much.

Also including another picture here for you all to see. Thank you all again, I wish you better fortune this year.

#gofundme #emergency #fundraiser #pls help #idk what else to tag rn im so exhausted

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samijami · 11 months

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Oh I just had a funny thought

When I was younger, I absolutely refused to speak. I was so nonverbal and wouldn't talk to anyone. My parents hadn't gotten me to speak at all until I was 4. They had to bring me to a doctor and was told I'd never speak and needed to be taken to a speech therapist to have any sort of chance.

They refused to, and I only ended up speaking after I started school. I didn't even know my name, I couldn't pronounce my name when I saw it on my nametag on my desk. I ended up, after speaking, asking what it was. When I got told it was my name, I couldn't fucking believe it.

I jitt had to ask the teacher when she was handing out the nametags what it was. She said it was my name, I asked what the fuck my name was, she looked at me like I was half crazy, she had to pronounce my name to me and I forgot it yet again afterwards.

I looked at my nametag everyday and had to set a mental reminder that that was my name.

I couldn't remember anyone else's name either. Up until 4th grade I had to have a piece of paper with new kid's names on it to remember them.

I couldn't pronounce most words correctly until I was 8, and still couldn't pronounce words like 'unicorn', etc, right until I was 10. I then had a problem with pronouncing 'banana' until I was 13. I still do sometime have problems pronouncing banana-

They have refused me speech therapy my whole life since they said that there's nothing wrong with me. I had to almost fail kindergarten for them to even ask if there was something wrong with me. I had to: break a special ed teacher's nose, throw a desk, lose all of my friends within a half a year period, refuse to speak to (almost) anyone, eat pencil graphite, try to get a friend of mine to get infront of me in the line cuz I thought it was nice and then when she didn't take the gesture I thought she was being mean for not taking the gesture so I got upset and tried to force her to get infront of me cuz I didn't understand why she wasn't taking my nice gesture so then she hated me and called me a freak the day after, get locked in a room in the office all day multiple times throughout the year because I was having constant meltdowns and they wanted to 'calm me down', not understand any fucking social gestures and have a way too picky of an appetite for them to even consider I had something wrong.

And then I had to almost fail kindergarten for them to ask a doctor and put me on ADHD medicine.

And recently, they wonder why it's gotten worse, why I can't focus, why I don't understand anything about math, why I can't focus on reading intelligent things like science and maths, why I can't 'do what the other kids do'.

Why I can't remember full days on end.

And my therapist told me she was going to get my diagnosis for autism and DPDR, and she knew I had it. Guess what? I don't have a therapist anymore.

I love when I'm right on the edge of getting proper treatment and medicines, I can't have it.

My ADHD medicine even. I was happy with my Concerta for 10 years of my life, but they changed it to the generic Methylphenidate because the insurance company refused to pay for my Concerta suddenly. Now it doesn't work as good, and they blame me for that.

They blame me for all of my problems. They say I hold onto childish things I should've left behind.

How can I leave a part of me behind?

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

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AITA for not calling out my little brother on his offensive behavior earlier?

For a bit of backstory, I (F21) am autistic. I was diagnosed was diagnosed with ADHD and autism at age 7. I have been in and out of therapy for it (against my will) until I turned 19 and went to college. For years, I have been trying to prove to others that I am capable of taking care of myself. I don't feel bad about being autistic. It's not an injury or a misfortune or whatever. It just is. But I don't speak up for myself when people insult me (directly or indirectly) for it.

I've been called crazy by my entire elementary math class for a class assignment (we had to say one nice word about each of our classmates). I've been called deviant by my college friends. I've been infantilized and compared to a pet by literal adults even after I tell them that I am autistic. I haven't been good at reprimanding this behavior, and I think I might've gotten used to it, hence why I even allowed my little brother to call me the r word in the first place. I haven't been mentally well for a good while, and I've only recently started to get the hang of managing my ADHD symptoms, so only now have I started paying attention to other people's lives.

Now here's where I may be the AH. My (M14) brother is neurotypical, and although I haven't called him out before for calling me the r word, he recently started calling me it in front of his friends. He's also in a lot of trouble as well for being racist and sexist at school as well, and I've started to wonder if I've been too soft on him. I've been going to a out of state college, so it's not like I was too involved in his life, but I was present, on occasion, when he was saying offensive things with his friends. I feel that as the adult in the situation, I should have intervened. I feel that my autism or mental state doesn't change the fact that in those situations, I am the responsible party. I feel that by being non confrontational, I was hurting my little brother. He trusts me, and I want him to be able to rely on me for help, but I feel I need to stop reinforcing this behavior. I just don't know how.

Maybe it's a too little, too late thing, but I'm really worried about him. He has a different dad, so he passes for hispanic, and I'm white, so I've always been unsure what role to take to confront him about his racism. I've experienced sexual harassment before, but I don't know how to talk about that with him either. I've told him multiple times that I am uncomfortable when he says things of sexual nature, but he hasn't stopped trying to get me to listen to his favorite (highly sexual) rap music. The one thing I was certain about that I could potentially ask him to stop was regarding my autism. I thought, since it was personal to me, he would understand and would stop. Maybe it would help him reflect on how others feel regarding the other stuff if I set one boundary. So I tried to ask him politely to stop making fun of my autism because it makes me uncomfortable. He got really upset and asked why I had a problem with it now instead of before. I've always been uncomfortable, I just never said anything. It's not like I can go back in time to change my past behavior, but I can see his point. I never called him out on it before, so why now? We aren't talking to each other anymore, but I can't help but think about the role I've taken in his life to make him act the way he does.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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killersfool · 5 months

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You Might Get What You Want | ROBERT KEATING

PAIRING: robert keating x original f!character

GENRE: childhood frenemies to lovers

SUMMARY: lucia (luz), nieve ella’s keyboardist, has an estranged history with inhaler—especially with the band’s bassist, bobby. their fiery hatred for eachother rapidly blossoms into something sweet, especially when she learns that he wrote a song about her.

WORDS: 5.8k

WARNINGS: kissing, swearing, alcohol use, mild sexual content

Being Nieve Ella's keyboardist has completely altered the course of my life. Only eight months ago, I was doing my second year of uni, trying to get through a Music course and completely regretting all of my life choices. My favourite part of the day would be getting home and sitting at my piano, writing songs and posting them on Tiktok. Views racked up, followers kept coming in and I think I realised how well everything was going when Laufey commented on my cover of 'Like The Movies'. Then about two weeks later, an email shot through my phone—literally like a bullet to skin. I dropped the rectangular device to the ground mid-lecture, hand on my mouth, teeth in my lip.

Nieve Ella had asked me to join her on tour. With Inhaler.

At first I was laughing, then I was bawling with endless tears of happiness and now I'm on my final show still feeling woozy and adrenaline is banging through my brain. The whole band have become my best friends. And, quite shockingly, me and Inhaler have a weird shared history. I've known them since I was really young. I used to watch their first gigs at tiny venues where they'd run around in the crowd and hardly anyone knew the lyrics. I went to the same school as Bobby, Eli and Ryan who were a bunch of madmen. They'd let me hang out with them backstage or at practice and jam before they finally found a 'proper' keyboardist (Louis). To be honest, I'd always been slightly salty that I never got into the band. But I guess we were never close enough and I could be quite horrible to Bobby — but honestly, he deserved it. He was a whiny, teenage nightmare. Still is. Except he's not a teenager anymore.

Thankfully, Nieve Ella and the band take a train separate to Inhaler. I don't have to hear Bobby's jests 24/7. Today we're heading to Dublin. The final stop of the Cuts and Bruises tour. It's been a long ride but it's all been worth it. I've had the best time ever. I'm listening to the Strokes, a song Bobby recommended to me a few weeks ago. It's been on my mind ever since and I can't stop hearing the same chords and riffs over and over. Even when my headphones leave my ears. The song is 12:51 and funnily enough Bobby has a tattoo right on his bicep with those exact numbers. The lads gave us a rather enjoyable tattoo tour with reasons for each of their inked designs.

I lay back my head against the cushioned seat. I like this, I prefer it to what I was doing before. The constant stress, the exams, the structure. I like the freedom of doing shows and seeing new people and travelling to new places. Never sure what you're in for. Crowd after crowd with all different energies and enthusiasm. The adrenaline rush is the best part of the day but when you wake up the following morning, it's like the life has been sucked out of you. You feel like nothing. Human. A person with legs and arms. Flailing around with no thoughts in your head. A billion times worse than a hangover. Post concert depression. The lull after such a powerful high. It's nice to go through that hell with a group of friends who all feel the same way. Becomes a strange group therapy.

For the past hour, I've been begging Josh to tell me what is on the set list. I'm praying they'll add some different songs. Older ones. Seeing as it's the last show of the tour. Something to surprise the fans. Maybe 'Falling In' or 'There's No Other Place' or even my favourite 'You Might Get What You Want'. That was one that was written when Rob was the lead singer of the band. When I'd bang the keys in that garage. When we'd sing the lyrics together and sound like an awful church choir. I never got the chance to listen to it live, performed properly by the band. I'm still heartbroken they didn't leave it on the track list for the album. I have to resort to listening to illegal Spotify versions.

I feel like crying everytime I remember this is the last show I might ever do with Inhaler. The last time I might see the lot of them. They'll surely disappear off into the shadows once tour is over, making their next album, cutting off all contact to focus solely on their music. After spending so much time with a group of people, then completely losing them from your life, you just feel so very empty. Like a swimming pool with no water. Or a mug of tea left hollow after spilling it all by accident. Last night — I would never dare to admit this to anyone — I cried for two hours straight into the pillow of my hotel room. Tour is a glorious thing. Fun, exciting, terrifying all at the same time. But the thought of finality is what split me into pieces, broke me up and squeezed tear after tear from my eyes.

Fran keeps looking at me with raised eyebrows like she's about to ask a question. She's scribbling on her set list, making sure she knows exactly what's happening and when. Her earrings twinkle as she tilts her head, her eyeliner sharp and perfect. Her mouth parts the slightest bit to reveal white teeth, a small smile. "You alright there, Luz?"

God, anytime someone asks me that, it makes me want to cry ten times more. I look down the train compartment, stare at the bathroom and decide whether to make my move. Do I run and hide in there for the duration of the trip, two hours of crying into mouldy train toilet paper? Or do I try to brave it and tell her how I feel? Or just lie through gritted teeth? She's good at reading me. She'll know that I'm not telling the truth.

"Don't tell Nieve this but I feel like absolute shite." There it is. I said it. Fire sinks into my skin, blood rushes up to my head. I squeeze my cheek to make sure I am actually sitting here and that I'm not hallucinating. Lack of sleep had made me seem some weird shit. I need caffeine. Quick.

"We all do." Fran puts her hand on top of mine. "Look, one more show, then we can sleep for as long as we want."

"That's the thing. I don't want this to end."

Fran gets up from her seat and swivels around the table. She sits down beside me, arms opening up and embraces me until I think I see stars. No one has ever hugged me so tightly. My bones seem to audibly shift.

"Nieve's doing a few shows in February, remember? And I'm sure next time Inhaler tours, they'll be on their hands and knees begging for us to come back." She strokes my hair. "Although, Bobby might be telling us to bugger off instead. You two need to sort out this drama. It's driving us all mad."

"He started it." I sound like a three-year-old irritated at my brother.

Fran laughs to herself. "Fucking hell. I bet he did."

—

Arguing. It's happened again. Our last day together has gone to a great start.

First stop of the day—a random restaurant that Ryan dragged us to. Hugs were shared, kind words uttered, teeth glowing under dim lights. I sit down on a wooden chair, peel my jacket from my body and place it on the back. The cool wind is slamming against the windows. I'd forgotten how cold Dublin was. Especially in November. Some Christmas lights adorn the streets and pubs are lively with masses of people. We were stopped a only once on the way there by a group of fans—even our attempt at scuttling through empty alleyways didn't work when five friends with Inhaler-themed cowboy-hats impeded our trail. They were lovely. Photos taken and compliments exchanged. Sadly, Bobby was in a bad mood. When I say a bad mood, I mean a 'I want to kill everyone on this planet and throw myself on a train track' kind of bad mood. He hid away from the fans, behind me and Nieve. His height wasn't particularly helpful in that instant. The blonde, 'Amelie', had said in her thick French accent, "Is that Bobby? I was wondering where he was."

Caught. Found. He thought staying there for a while longer would make them think he wasn't there at all. Amelie was persistent, however, and said softly, "Please could I take a picture with you?"

Her friends all started whispering. Eli was tapping his friend on the shoulder to get him to move. He was frozen. Eli frowned and shook his head.

"Sorry but Rob's being a bit weird today," Josh explained. "I don't think he wants any photos."

Amelie nodded, but the sadness in her eyes was apparent. "That's okay."

I felt bad for the girl. I turned around, looked at Bobby. He was on his phone. Scrolling through Tiktok still crouched down. A quick look at his phone screen showed me that he was watching edits — edits of himself. I had to take a double take to actually believe what I'd just seen. He was staring at clips of himself, smiling, and wouldn't even stand for five seconds next to a girl who'd paid to see his band. He continued to swipe his thumb against the screen, blue eyes lit up by his bright phone.

Then his eyes caught mine and he closed the Tiktok tab. "You didn't see that, did you?" He worriedly spoke so unbelievably quickly, I had to scramble my brain to decipher the words. His smile flipped upside down. Shock written all over him. Blush rising right up to the tips of his ears.

"The hell is wrong with you?" I muttered. Nieve heard. She stepped away. She did not want to be involved in whatever the two of us were plotting.

"What's wrong with me?" He breathed. It's like he was asking himself the question but there was an unyielding harshness to his voice, raspy and agitated. I was sure that this argument was going to be just as bad as the Sid Vicious incident, or worse. Halloween Bobby was on a different wavelength — bordering on depravity.

"You're watching fucking Tiktok edits of yourself. Didn't think you could be that self-centered—"

"Can we not do this now? Please?" Bobby tried to get me to calm down. Amelie and her friends were still only metres away, asking Josh about the tour, about the next album. Fran was listening in. She was smiling to herself. Part of her definitely enjoyed the beef between us.

"Show me your Tiktok."

"No."

"Now."

He sighed. I grabbed his phone, opened Tiktok straight away. His whole 'For You' page was edits of himself. The account he was on was a fake user account. I couldn't believe my eyes.

"What the hell..." Was all I could manage to say.

"I can explain."

"Can you? Go on then."

He didn't say anything. Took his phone back and kicked the brick wall beside him. He shook his phone around like he was going to throw it as well. That wouldn't change anything. I'd seen the worst of it — at least I hoped I'd seen the worst of it.

"Take that photo with those girls and I'll shut up about this." I gave him an option. A way to let him get out of the hole he'd dug for himself.

He was so tall. Sometimes I forgot that. But there, back straight, no longer slouched and his neck craned to meet my eyes. I couldn't hold eye contact. His clenched jaw was making me nervous.

"Fine." He finally concluded the argument with a single word. His index finger then pointed towards me, just beneath my neck. "But you don't tell anyone about this."

I grinned. "I promise."

Stepping over towards Amelie, he smiled widely, put an arm over her shoulder and allowed Fran to take the picture of the group. Moments later he was complaining about his shoes. How they were too small. If Robert Keating had a chance to complain about anything, he'd take it and wouldn't shut up about it. I just knew at that point that we'd be hearing about his shoes for the rest of the day.

Tension is thick in the restaurant. I can almost taste it in my mouth. Rob sits beside me. I don't want to look at him, don't want to hear him talk, don't want to have anything to do with him. He's only the only person I won't miss once this tour is over.

Before anyone can get a word out, Eli taps his fork against his glass. All eyes fall to him. Grace is next to him, she's appeared out of nowhere.

"I just want to say thank you to Nieve, Fran, Lucia, Finn and Matt for being such great openers on our tour. We're so grateful for all of you. This wouldn't have been the same without you."

"Aw, Eli, I might cry a bit, please stop." Nieve shakes her head, holding her napkin to her eyes. "This has been such a dream. We should be thanking you for giving us this opportunity."

"We need to do this again sometime." Ryan pitches in. "Next time we tour, you're coming with us."

"Yeah. That would be grand," Josh exclaims, pulling up his pint of Guinness and crashing it against everyone else's.

Bobby, after all his hours of complaining, has gone back to silent, angry mode. Playing around with his fork, he stares blankly at the menu, fingers tracing the lettering. I watch him as the others melt into conversation. I just want to know what is going through his head. Why is he acting like this? Last week, he was fun to be around and we had a good time. Especially when he's drunk, he loosens up a bit and stops with the facade. He even kissed me once. As a joke. I think.

It was a mess of alcohol. A 'midnight tour bus party'. We were in London and instead of going to the hotel, we ended up spending the night in the lovely green tour bus. We all got so drunk we could hardly speak. I can't remember all that we got up to but when we were sobering up, Bobby dragged me outside of the bus. He gave me his jacket, placed it over my shoulders. We sat down on a random doorstep, hugging each other to keep warm. Two penguins. Two people who usually hated eachothers guts, finding comfort in the warmth that emanated from our bodies. I'd never thought his hair was nice until that moment. How it grazed over my neck. How the curls twisted perfectly and his overgrown mullet framed his face. Or how pretty his eyes were as they shone under streetlights. Dreamy, long eyelashes, sea-like waves. He'd kissed me. His long fingers over my cheeks. His pink lips slotting between mine. I pulled away, shocked. Electricity had sparked between us, my heart was pounding, my body was a torch. Then I ran away from him. I couldn't understand what If just felt. I had never seen him in that way. We never mentioned it again.

Maybe that's what has made him colder. I still haven't acknowledged what happened that night. I keep thinking that he was too drunk to even remember it, but maybe he does. I'm not going to bring it up. Especially now. Especially in this restaurant with everyone sat with us.

"I'm sorry, Lucia."

My heart drops. Bobby is looking at me. Downcast. Entire state is disjointed. His mouth just said that, his brain just formulated those words.

"What?" I must've heard him wrong. Imagining it. This time I must be hallucinating.

"I'm sorry about that night."

Mindreader. He knew what I was thinking about. What my mind has been lingering on. The weather reminds me, his scent reminds me, his hands remind me, his jacket reminds me. That night. London. The night after Troxy. The wind — cut-throat, sharp, steely — the rain, and my tear-stained bedsheets. The taste of his mouth and the dejction locked into his eyes as I left him. Like I'd made a terrible mistake. Like running into my hotel room, alone, was the worst possible option I could've chosen.

I'm wearing the same earrings as I did that night — these ribbon ones that a fan made for me. Bobby had pointed them out — which he shifted between his fingertips and said they suited me. He's eyeing them now, hands curving, resisting any urge to touch them again, to drag us back to that moment.

The waiter takes my order. Bobby's words properly forage the depths of my mind, the veins and the arteries circling around my body, the aching crevices of my heart. I ask for the first thing I see on the menu and a Fanta. I want to stay sober. I want to savour all that will happen beyond this second. Bobby also doesn't get alcohol. Shockingly. The Bobby I know would never turn down a pint of Guinness. But he gets a 7up instead and takes a long, hard gulp of it when the waiter comes back. I'm counting the cracks on the table, how squeaky the chair is, the coffee stain on the ceiling — trying to guess how they managed to get up there. Musicians like to occupy their brains. They don't like to think too much - just do.

"I'm sorry..." I whisper. Finally giving him a reponse after a long pause for thought.

He had been waiting for an answer. He catches it. Twists uneasily in his seat. Wood creaks. Rain patters.

"...It was wrong of me to leave you." The image of his despair still rings through my bones. I swear when my cells divide they keep trying to recreate that look on his face.

"I shouldn't have..." his voice lowers, heat pf his mouth glides by my ear "...kissed you."

I'm trying to drink my Fanta with no reaction. Sugary greatness. Cold, slightly wet fingers. Orangey flavouring. But his voice is so low, trickling, burning, goosebump-inducing. I can't look at him. He's too close to me. It's too hot in the restaurant. Soundcheck is in 20 minutes. I want to run away again. I always want to run away.

Down my Fanta, smooth my skirt, breathe in deeply.

"I liked it." I similarly glide my lips over his ear when he's least expecting it, returning the favour.

He coughs. Chokes a bit on his drink. Then he eats his Pesto pasta with the pinkest neck I've ever seen on a person. Jacket off to reveal long, tattoo-covered arms, and the muscles that have progressively been getting bigger over the months. I join Ryan and Matt's drummer conversation to stop staring. It's weird. Being attracted to him feels wrong. Teenage Lucia would be ashamed. She’d slap some sense into me.

Dinner ends quickly. We're thrusted back into Dublin air before we can even adjust to the complete switch in environment. Running to the venue, through alleyways, shooting splashes of water all over the place, we realise how late we are. I feel better than I did in the morning. That dreaded train ride. Bobbys giving me the silent treatment again. I hate it. I hate it more than when he's being downright horrible to me.

Our set was unbelievable. The best show I've ever done. The crowd was unreal, the size of the place was absurd. We had never sounded so great. Everything went according to plan. We're crying now that we're offstage. We need something to uplift us. Nieve's idea is to party in the back. Which is one of the best parts of the night.

We find a spot just before Inhaler goes on. Screams bleed through the room, adoration written in teenage faces, phones held up to capture the moment. The five lads on stage. One final time. I scream like I'm sixteen all over again, dancing as the first song 'These Are The Days' begins to play. Shouting along, throwing my hands in the air. I don't think I've ever been so happy and fulfilled before.

The setlist is the usual. I didn't expect them to change it. Eli gives a little 'thank you' speech, mentioning us at the end. Then suddenly encore starts and I'm met by a mildly unfamiliar song. The crowd seems just as confused as I am. Bobby is wearing that stupid black vest and I swear his bass has been lowered all the more. The next time they perform, it'll surely be grazing the floor.

Bobby doesn't normally speak to the crowd at shows. It's always Eli. But as they play the intro, he begins to speak, "Hi everyone. Hope you're all having a good time." Commotion, screams, chanting 'Bobby' as if it's a cult gathering, not a concert. His eyes are searching through the crowd. The party in the back turned into moshpits and luckily I got pushed near to the front. His eyes land on mine. I can tell he's looking at when he plays with his earring — like it's a code between us. He keeps playing the same few notes on the bass lazily as he grabs the mic stand. Everyone is silent and listening as he says, "This is 'You Might Get What You Want'.

I recognise it now. I'm sent back to high school. 6 years ago. Practice room at school. Instrument cases strewn all over tha place, broken drumsticks leant against the wall. I'm sat at the piano as Bobby announces, "This is a new song I wrote." He passes me the chords starts singing. My thoughts are quiet. The external world is too loud for me to think. I'm lost in the music. The song is beautiful — lyrics, chords, arrangement, Bobby's voice. That was the day when I wanted to ask to join the band. Then Bobby was horrible to me so I changed my mind. I even asked him what the song was about. He looked at the Jim Morrison poster on the door, hand against his buzzed head as he thought up a response. "A girl," was his final conclusion. I thanked him for his specificity. He told me, quite frustratedly, it was 'none of my business'. Then he was riled up and told me to leave because I was 'playing it all wrong'. One of the last times I ever played with the band. So when I hear the song again — I'm back, sitting at the piano with my school uniform, waiting for cues to play the next chord.

The crowd goes wild at the fact that Bobby is singing alone. This is unusual. The majority of the crowd don't know the song. Reminds me of their first gigs in tiny venues. I sing along, staring at Bobby as he stares back. I wonder which girl the song was actually about. At seventeen, he hung out with every girl in sight - parties, random town meetups, gigs. The way he is looking at me is shattering me down to my core — eyes painted with affection and how he keeps moving his earring. For some reason, I wish the song is about me. Then he sings, 'You Might Get What You Want' whilst pointing right at me. Has anyone else noticed his staring? Nieve and Fran seem clueless. It could all be in my head. His face appears on the screen. I stare. Not ashamed. Appreciating his beauty for as long as we have left. Only tonight. Then nothing. Only the possibility of seeing eachother once again. It won't be set in stone.

I'm a sweaty mess by the end of the show. Last goodbyes, last waves, last shocked stares at the extent of the crowd. I always forget how boiling it gets in the standing area. I'm almost at the point of suffocating. We leave with the crowd, taking a few selfies with fans along the way. I stand in the merch queue. I need something to remember this. Something I can keep and wear and just be brought back to this venue, to this atmosphere. I buy a black tour shirt with the bubbly lettering, slipping it over my tank top. I just know the change in temperature will murder me. The more layers I have on, the better.

We slip through the crowd. Thankfully, it's quieter after my long time in the merch queue. I'd never seen such a long amalgamation of people.

Back at the hotel, I crash straight down onto my bed. Don't even turn on the lights or take off my clothes. I just close my eyes and stretch out my body like a cat. It all happened too quickly. I left the band early to head back, although I heard the rest of them were going to the tour bus to get drunk. I've already had so much fun. I just need to relax. Alone time. Silence. Comfort.

A knock on the door.

I jump up. Still in my Inhaler shirt and lacy white skirt, I feel like taking a shower. But whoever just knocked has impeded any plans. I could just pretend I didn't hear them. I could fall asleep and they'll just walk away.

Another knock. I jolt up this time. It's louder.

This time I reach the door. Sliding the keyhole open, I see him. Of course it's him. Of course. Of all the people that could be here right now. His hair is wet, mussed up. He's holding his jacket under his arm as it's completely drenched. Looking from side to side, he seems to contemplate giving up and leaving me solitary.

I open the door. Let my guard down. I want to talk. Rant. Let out all the garble mixing up and stuffing my skull. He'd listen to me.

"What are you doing here?" I ask. I don't say it rudely. Make sure to keep my tone quiet and curious. The rise of his head to meet my eyes is almost film-like, tracing along my skin, photographic.

"I need to talk to you."

"Come in then."

Close the door behind him. He drops his jacket onto the floor. Slides off those shoes with a groan. They really are too small on him. He can hardly untie the laces without sucking in a quick breath. He looks at himself in the dodgy mirror, trying to fix any flying pieces of hair. His beard is growing a little — little moustache fading in above his mouth.

He sits down on a chair by the table. His lengthy legs reach up to the end of the bed where I'm sat. He picks up a tea bag, sniffs it then puts it back. I'm worried about what he's about to say. He looks like he's gone through hell and back to get here. I've never seen him so dishevelled.

"You were amazing today." I hate the silence. I fill it up. "You all get better every time."

He's been so serious since he came in but the ghost of a smile haunts his lips. They twitch then fall. "So do you."

“Is this about your weird For You page because I’m pretty fucking worried.” I’m trying to forget I saw any of those edits.

“It’s not that.” He shakes his head. He's hugging his chest, arms shivering. My eyes narrow. Each hair on his arm is stood to attention.

"Do you want a blanket?" I'm about to look for something to warm him up when his hand clasps around my wrist. He's stood up. I'm sat down, looking up at him. His thumb traces the inside of my wrist, over a bracelet I have. One that he gave me when I was sixteen. A friendship bracelet he'd brought to one of the rehearsal sessions. I wore it just to get a reaction out of him. This is the first time he’s noticed it.

I want to ask him what he's doing. But then he's sat next to me with his arms around my body and I forget what I was going to say.

"Robert..." I don't normally say his full name. It's the only word that's coming to mind. His wet hair is dripping all over my skirt, his head is against my chest, he won't look up at me.

When I pick up his face, stretch my hands over his cheeks, I find his crystal eyes glossed over. Tears. He's crying. I don't know how to react. He buries his head back into the crook of my neck like he's embarrassed. Then he's breathing heavily. Heaving. Sniffling.

"What is it?" I whisper. I stroke every inch of his hair, the nape of his neck, the thin material of his vest. I trace the tattoos on his arm. Finally landing on the music notation inked into his wrist.

"I don't want you to leave." He holds onto my waist, under my shirt, cold skin. "Stay here. With me. Please."

I wipe the tears from his face. I must look like a beetroot. I'm boiling.

"Really?" I think I'm crying as well. I can't help it. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him so unguarded, so helpless.

"I only sang that song so you'd hear it." He looks up at the ceiling, cogs turning in his brain. "It's not just about a girl. It's about you."

"You're kidding." I have to laugh.

"I'm not. I wrote it during the summer holidays before high school. I had some weird thought that you were going to call me and ask me out. I was always a prick to you so I don't know where that idea was coming from exactly. It's just when you want something so badly—I guess your brain manifests it into reality. Like every time I turned around a corner, I thought you'd magically appear. I thought you'd say that you liked me. But then you went off to Uni, the band got big. And now this. You're in fucking Nieve Ella's band. I thought I was going to throw up when I saw you get out of the train. Everything just came back. I didn't put the song on the album because every time I hear it, I just remember what an idiot I am for not treating you well and for not telling you how I feel. Singing it brought me back to the practice room, to that shitty piano with pedals falling off the hinges. How you made such a disgusting piano sound divine. I don't want to make the same mistake. If I let you go now, I'll be regretting it for the rest of my life."

"So you were looking at me? When you were singing?" I tilt my head, thumb below his eye.

"I might have been." He's not crying anymore. His voice is less rough. He sounds like normal Bobby again.

"I'll stay with you. As long as you want."

"Forever?"

"Bit too long. I can only deal with you for about three hours at a time."

"Then we should make good use of the—" He looks down at his watch. "—Two hours and 43 minutes we have left."

"What do you have planned?" I'm getting closer to him. His nose bumps against mine.

"What do you want to do, Luz?" He's challenging me. Thumb swirling over my lips.

"This." I kiss him. Lips to lips. Two notes in perfect harmony. Everything we've been through culminating into one simple kiss. It's a peck. A tease. I pull away as I feel him yank me closer.

His hands find my ears and it's like that night again. His mouth tastes the same. Sweet. Lukewarm. He still grazes my bottom lip with his teeth when he feels me shift back.

"You're an angel," he says.

At that, I'm kissing him again. This time with more passion. Exploding fireworks. Jumping into the ocean, water floating around you. The ringing in your eyes after an explosion. An earthquake. A tidal wave. So many feelings at once. He's trying to take my shirt off. I let him. Pulled it over my head so quickly I thought he might get my neck off as well. He throws it onto the nearby chair, looking at me, with those glimmering eyes and perfect eyebrows. Beauty spots and smooth skin. I attempt to take off his shirt too, although it's pretty much stuck to his chest. He helps me out, laughing at my stress.

"It's not that hard." He smirks, tugging at the top as I manage to unstick the bottom.

"Fuck off." I roll my eyes.

He pushes me down onto the bedsheets, helping me up until my head is on the pillow. I look over his frame. Long torso, large biceps, chain around his neck. It's too much to deal with. Hooded eyes, smirk on his lips, happy trail leading down to his belt. He knows how he's making me dizzy. He leans down, curling over me, scent hanging, cool skin against mine. I throw my head back. I've never been touched like this. So precise. So gentle. Like I'm his favourite bass guitar. I'd never noticed how long his fingers were until they were splayed over my bra, until the other hand was sliding up my thigh.

He kisses my neck, my shoulders, my collarbones, the valley between my breasts, tongue flat, teeth sharp. I hold onto his hair, then onto his toned shoulders. This morning, I would never have expected that this would happen. That the boy I loathed was admiring me and tasting me with unrelenting adoration. Now, the thought of leaving him makes me sick to my stomach. I pull him a little closer, kiss him a little harder and remember just how red teenage Bobby's face was after he'd sang that song to me. How defensive he was when I asked him about it. Now it all makes sense.

I won't ever leave him again.

58 notes · View notes

winterrrnight · 10 months

Note

okay girlboss i know as we discussed you have lotssss of WIP's but i come to you with a request anyways;

rafe x pogue!reader based on "want you back" by maisie peters. here are some lyrics from that song that make me absolutely need this fic and i know you're gonna agree:

"so i know, that you did bad, but if one more person says it i might go mad." (like HELLO THIS IS SO RAFE CODED ARE YOU KIDDING)

"and what was cheap to you, to me was all i had" (ALSO THIS ONE YUPPPP)

bonus: "til' you caught a teacher's daughter with a dangerous text, i read it like a bible and i wore it like a bulletproof vest" (bc this is so cute)

thank you for your time and consideration bestieeee

thank you for the request bff! It definitely took me some time but here we gooo we finally have it! I hope you enjoy and it's up to your expectations <3

want you back

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x pogue!gn!eader

SUMMARY: Rafe finally gets to reunite with the one who made him feel happy and loved after their heartbreaking time away from each other.

WARNINGS: starts off angsty but ends fluffy, swearing, alcohol, drugs, anxiety, kissing, OBX spoilers + ignore any small grammatical/spelling mistakes!

EDITH SPEAKS: I LOVE a good angst moment! Its like venting out all the emotions that bother me. Why go to therapy when you can write angsty fics?

Some canon events of Rafe are referred to in this fic, but we still get soft Rafe as we move on in the fic :) live laugh love soft Rafe 🤭🤭

Please like and/or reblog to show your support! Feedback is highly appreciated 🌼

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You let out a little scream when you suddenly feel Rafe's arms around your waist, lifting you up from the ground. You grasp onto his neck tightly, and just keep on laughing as Rafe runs with you in his arms.

He comes to a stop just before the sand ends and the water starts. He sets you down on the ground, and both of you sit down, the water washing up to your feet occasionally.

It's midnight, the moon is out, the water is rippling softly, and you're sitting next to the person who makes you smile as bright as the stars.

Life can't get more perfect.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

"So what, you're just going to leave me now? Whatever we had, it doesn't matter to you anymore?" You yell, tears brimming in your eyes.

"It's not like we were really together you know, you didn't exactly tell people I'm your boyfriend!" Rafe says back, his eyes as teary as yours.

He's right, what you had was more of a situationship. You never labelled him as your boyfriend, heck, you were always confused on what to call him each time you introduced him to people. What you had was too deep to be labelled as 'friendship', but in the back of your mind you were always scared on how things might change if you asked him to be your boyfriend.

"Whatever it may be Rafe! Didn't you feel happy with me? I know I was the happiest with you around." You take a step closer to him, but he takes one back, keeping the distance the same between you two. "You're gonna just leave me because you think me, a pogue, can't date you, a kook? When will we grow past this? Why are you letting a stupid class label decide if you and me should be together or not?"

Tears are now streaming down your face, staining your cheeks as the went down. Your eyes are bloodshot, and your head is pounding with a headache. But you ignore it all. You just want Rafe.

"I'm, I'm sorry," Rafe whispers, as he opens the door of your house and leaves. You want to run after him, stop him from leaving you, but your feet are glued to the ground. Why aren't you moving? Why aren't you on your knees begging him to stay? You hear the engine of his car revving, and from the open door, you see him drive to the horizon.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

Since Rafe left you that night, you haven't seen him even once. It's been around two months, and you returned to your regular pogue lifestyle with your best friends: nothing to lose, everything to gain.

The biggest problem you have at hand is to find El Dorado before Singh does. It's been the only thing everyone has been able to talk about, especially after the return of Big John. You've been extremely devoted to this hunt, but every now and then, your mind slips back to you and Rafe.

You aren't sure with whom you can open up about this entire situation with. You've only been digging your emotions deeper and deeper in you, and you're afraid one day you'll just pop with all your pent up emotions.

All of you are sitting around a bonfire, and JJ comes and passes all of you some drinks. You really feel like drinking today, to not feel something and set your heart free for just a while.

But how were you supposed to know that with the alcohol buzzing in your system you will feel every emotion exponentially?

You had downed a number of cups of alcohol, a lot more than everyone else. Everyone except JJ was extremely concerned for you; all JJ did was just peg you on because you don't consume alcohol very often.

"I just miss him so much!" You say, wailing. Alcohol has spread all throughout your body, and you just have this urge to let out every single emotion.

You had popped.

"It's okay," Kiara says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and trying her best to comfort you.

"It's not Kie!" You remove her arm from you and get up from you position on the sand. You just want him right now, you want him to wrap his arms around you, kiss your forehead and whisper the sweetest nothings in your ears.

"Why do you even miss him so much?" John B says. "He just ruined everything for us. Especially when he stole the cross from Pope. And he left you because he thinks you aren't the right class. Do you not see how messed up this is?"

"Can you stop saying shit about him?" You snap. "I know what he did okay? But I was the one who got to see the vulnerable side of him. The side of him which only cared for the two of us. We could've been something, you know? But this ridiculous treasure hunt of yours just got in the way."

John B starts to get riled up at your words. He knows you wouldn't say half these things if it isn't for the alcohol in your body, but he cannot help but feel angry on how you are blaming him for everything that happened.

"Oh so now it's my fault? Rafe was never supposed to stick his nose in this! The cross is Pope's family history, and it belongs to him. Rafe's just a greedy person who only cares about the money. We wanted to preserve Pope's heritage." John B snaps back at you. Sarah comes in between the two of you, fearing any more traction.

"John B, leave this matter alone okay?" She whispers to him, and tries to get him aside. Sarah looks at you sympathetically, she knows you'll regret everything you've just said when you'll get sober. She now walks up to you.

"We need to get you to bed right now okay?" She tried to look at you in your eyes, but you dodge them. Sarah motions to JJ and Pope towards you, and they both come up, taking one each of your arms and to lead you to your place.

When you three reach your house and JJ lays you down in bed, you feel tears forming in your eyes. "I really miss him J," you sniffle, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. He looks at you with a sorrowful look on his face. JJ hates Rafe's guts, especially after how horribly he treated you, but he hates to see his best friend in this situation even more.

"You'll be fine," he says softly. "You're the strongest person I know, and you'll be okay." You let his words sink in you, as your mind starts to slowly drift off to sleep.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

Rafe is nervously pacing around his room, his teeth chewing away on his nails. The anxiety is spreading around like plague in his mind, and he just cannot get to stop thinking about it.

A deal he made with someone to sell some of the melted gold of the cross headed towards a direction he was not expecting. He's tried to think out a way out of this, but nothing seems to be the right solution.

Oh, only if you were there with him. You would softly run your fingers through his head and massage his scalp. "It's all going to be okay," you would mumble to him. And each time you told him that, everything did turn out to be okay. But right now you aren't there with him. And he craves you right now more than anything.

With a sudden impulsiveness, he gets his phone and finds your contact. His finger hovers over your name, does he take the risk of calling you or just forgets about it all?

He knows no one will approve of it. After all, you're a pogue. You have no place with all the kooks with their big mansions and their Maseratis in their backyards. But he longed you, he longed for your touch.

The last thing that Rafe cared about was you being a pogue. It didn't matter to him, all he wanted was you. But everyone else got to his head and made him believe you just don't belong with him.

"Are you sure you want to be with that filthy Pogue? After all, you may end up losing all your money." They would say, referring to how you're only with him because you care about the money he has.

"You don't belong with a pogue, Rafe. Come on man you're better than this." They would say, connecting a string of bad words with your name.

"What would everyone say? Did you even think about your reputation? You are a Cameron for god's sake." They would say, deeming you unworthy.

He shakes the thoughts out of his head. He knows he needs you more than anything else right now. Letting his spontaneity take over, he clicks on your contact.

His heart beats fast as he hears the ringing through the phone. And it almost stops when you pick up.

"Hello?" You say, groggily. You were just taking a nap and getting a call right in between wasn't what you wanted. You didn't even see who called you, you just accepted the call with your eyes almost closed.

"Uh, hey," Rafe says. You immediately sit up in bed. Why is Rafe calling you?

"Rafe?" You say. At this point, Rafe almost feels like melting. He hasn't heard your voice in months, and the sweetness of your voice is something he missed a lot. Everything starts to feel so much to him, and tears start to stream their way down as he sniffles silently.

"Rafe, are you crying? Are you okay?" You're now completely awake, ready to jump off the couch if he wants you there with him.

"Yeah, uh, I'm okay." He says, wiping off his tears. But that's pretty much useless, he just keeps on melting more and more on hearing you. Oh how he missed your voice.

There is a silence between you two, and you can hear each other's soft breathing. You missed him, you missed him a lot. You hated hearing everyone say he's a horrible person; you saw a side of him he never shows anyone. He made you feel so special, and now you feel like digging yourself in a hole, because you wish you weren't so afraid to ask him to be something more when you had the chance.

"I miss you," you blurt, not expecting it to happen. Rafe, on the other end, hears those words with widened eyes.

You miss him? He thought you probably hate his guts for the way he left you.

But you couldn't hate him. How can you hate the only person who made you feel complete?

"I miss you more," Rafe whispers. The tears don't stop, they keep on coming down like two waterfalls. He doesn't want them to stop either. He's finally feeling something. It had been way too long of being numb, not knowing what feeling is striking him.

You have had enough. You get up from your couch and start to make your way out of your house. "Rafe, are you at your home?"

Rafe gets confused on those words. "Yeah, why?"

You get out of your house and close the door behind you.

"I'm coming over."

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

You reach outside Tannyhill, and take in its view. You haven't seen it in so long, and you'd almost forgotten how big it is. You step up onto the porch, your heart beating very fast. Before you can ring the bell, the door opens and you see Rafe.

The world stops spinning. Rafe has buzzed all his hair off, but when you look in his eyes, all you see is emptiness. They've lost the charm which made you fall for him in the first place.

Rafe looks at you with utter shock. You've gone so pale; all the color is drained from your face. There are eyebags under your eyes, and you look extremely tired.

Without thinking anything, you run into his arms. His gentle touch, his soothing words, his relaxed breathing, all remind you of one thing: home. He's everything home is. His familiar scent immediately calms you down, and you start to sob, which becomes more and more violent with each passing second.

You drop down on your knees with Rafe still holding you. You can't believe you had almost started living a life without him in it. You had almost lost the one person who understood you without you having to say anything.

Rafe finds himself breaking inside on seeing you in this condition. He's the cause of it, if he wouldn't have given into the peer pressure of leaving you so easily, he would never have to see this day.

"I'm so so sorry bubs," he says, hugging you so tightly, his head resting in the crook of your neck. "I'm so very sorry. This happened all because of me."

"Sweets-" you start, but he cuts you off.

"Listen to me first, please." He pleads. "I never intended to do that to you. I hate to say this, but I was pressured to leave you. Everyone put this thought in my head that I don't belong with you solely because you're a pogue. They got to my head. That's the biggest fucking mistake of my life. I don't care you're a pogue. I wanted to make you mine, but before I can do that I left you, ghosted you completely. I'm so sorry, I promise to never leave you again."

You look at him with your red, rheumy eyes. The side which made you fall in love with him; his vulnerable side, is showing again and you are just breaking apart from the inside. Oh, how you missed the way he held you so close to him.

You softly hold his face in your hands and press your lips against his. You trace his lips with yours as you move closer to him, his arms snaked around your waist so tightly; he won't let you go again.

You missed the feeling of his lips on your own, the slight taste of the cigarettes he smokes lying on them. You missed your skin against his, the warmth radiating from his body to yours and making you all fuzzy on the inside.

Rafe will never leave you again. He will kill the one who says you don't deserve to be his, because no one in the world deserves you more than he does.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @ragingsammie @maybankslover

(if you want to be added, check out the 'join my taglist' post linked at the top! + send in requests if you have any!)

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zoe-is-amazingg · 1 year

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A Bullet to the ♥ Pt 2

A bullet to the heart Part two ♥

Ethan Landry X Reader !!!Spoilers if you haven't watched Scream VI!!! W/C - 1.5 K Summary - The one where the flashbacks are getting so servere you think your seeing Ethan in mirrors. Warnings - Blood and gore, drugs

use, vivid dreaming, angst for daysss, man in the mirror type of shit, first person, mentions of sex,, swearing, character touching herself, first person POV, a tiny bit of fluff

some characters from other shows fed into this, Jeremaih is from T.S.I.T.P! Part uno right here

MINORS DNI !!!

It's been two months, two months since I shot him, right in the chest. Two months since I shot him to death, he could've lived, I could've ran up to him and made him stop, but I didn't, I shot him, right in the fucking chest, the chest that I've buried my head up against, a chest that I've kissed, a chest that I've cried on.

It was all my fault too! I'm at fault! I would rather it had been me, but here's the thing, I know that if I hadn't shot him, Kirby would've. I'm so at fault for all of this shit, the tears, the blood, the cutting. It was a bullet right too the heart, it affected me so much, I've barely even left the house in these two months.

I can't deal with this pain anymore, I mean, as much as He would want me too, I just can't. I've tried to go to therapy, but what would I say? 'Oh, I shot my boyfriend while he was in a Ghost face mask, trying to kill my best friends.'

The guilt has been consuming, waking up with a nightmare every night for the past two months. There usually the same. I'm in the wired warehouse with Ethan in my arms, screaming out his name and not in the way I did before I knew his last name wasn't even Landry.

I'm surprised I even made it out of there alive, I just wished he went out of there with me. I loved him, well, in-love with what he meant for me to see. The way he would play with my panties in the middle of class, the way he would grab my hair and kiss my neck.

He would always cradle my cheek, he was very clingy. He was always holding my hand or touching some part of my body in some way. He was a lost puppy when he wasn't around me. Mindy found us a tiny bit gross.

I go into my bathroom and strip the clothes of my body. I turn the tap on and put myself under the water. I run shampoo through my hair and this voice rings in my ear. "Forgetting about me already?" The voice sounds a lot like… "Ethan? How the hell can I hear you?" I mutter, I out conditioner in my hand and rub it through my hair. "Remember when we fucked the time before I died and you were screaming out my name?" He asks and I shake my head. "Come on, you were so horny and you rode me so fast."

"I don-""Come on, lower that hand down there, I would be sad if you didnt." He whispers. I trail my hand between my legs and put pressure on my clit. "Good girl." I moan out as I rub my clit in circular movements. "Ethan." I moan out lightly.

"Just remember that I love you." He says. I rub it faster and I realize that my own fingers won't be enough for me to ride my high. Then the thought comes in that I'm insane for thinking that he's talking to me. I turn off the tap and I wrap a towel around my body. "Your not real, your not alive." I mutter to myself. I look into the mirror and see him standing behind me. I turnaround and see that no ones behind me.

"I'm more real then what's his name?" He mutters. I shake my head. That was one of the one times that I left the house. Tara set me up with Jeremiah, a golden retriever type boy with blonde curly hair. I kissed him and he kissed me back and I moaned his name, not Jeremiahs, Ethans. "Jeremiah, that's right?"

"Go away." I mutter. I sigh loudly. "Don't lie, you loved thinking that it was me. Kissing him, grabbing his curly, blonde hair, but imagining they were mine. Imagine if he put his dick in? What if-""Shut up!!" I yell. I punch the mirror and it shatters. I scream, pull my hair and cry lightly.

I didn't need to see him in crazy dreams or if I'm going crazy, I still miss him every second of everyday. I get dressed and ready and call Sam

"Hey." "Hi." "How are you going at the moment?" "Uh, fine. Why are you calling me?" "Can I come over? I get you guys are going through stuff, but this is very important." I mutter and I hear her nodding. "Yeah….yeah, sure?" She sounds confused. "Great! I'll be there in a bit." I say and I hang up.

I get into my car and look in my side mirror. "Hey, Y/n, You can't get rid of me that easily." He smirks. His face was covered in blood this time and his chest had a bullet hole. I press harder on the gas and push the thought of him back in my mind.

I arrive at Sam's apartment and knock at the door. Chad opens it and I raise my eyebrows. "Hooking up with Tara?" I smirk. "No, Sam's in her room." Chad mutters. I pushed past him and walked into Sam's room.

"What's so important that you needed to see me?" She asks, I shake my head. "I'm seeing him." I say, closing the door and looking at my feet. "Who? Who are you dating? Look, I don't think this is that im-" "I'm seeing Ethan, not like in dating, I'm seeing him in mirrors and stuff." I interrupt her.

"That's been what has been happening to me…" She trails off and I sigh. "I know, can you just give me some Meds, please." I plead. I look at her and she stands up, pulls open her drawers and get a prescription bottle. "Here you go, don't take more then five at a time." She says as she hands me the bottle. I take it off her and smile at her and leave. I take two and take a drink from my drink bottle. "Two isn't enough to get rid of me, Y/n." Ethan smirks in my rear view mirror. I take two more and flush it down with another drink.

I drive back to my own apartment and shake my head. I feel tried when I arrive and drag myself into the kitchen, I forget how many I've taken beforehand and take four, no more than five, and I've only taken one or two so that's just six. I take it down and grab some vodka and down it with that. I put the bottle away and drag myself into bed. I cover myself with the blankets and fall asleep.

I wake up in a bed with the walls covered in blood and some of the blood was written into words that spelt out. 'Ethan's death was your fault.'. Ethan walks into the room and sits down on the bed. "Hey." He smiles, he touches my cheek and I swear for a second, that it felt real and it was really happening.

"Uh hey." I managed to get out. He caresses my cheek and places a kiss against my lips. I've forgotten what his lips taste like. "How was your sleep, have you dreamt about me, bleeding out and how it was your fault." He asks. I gasp as blood crawls out of his mouth and eyes.

I half scream and it comes out breathless and dry. I rush out of bed and but my back against the wall. I can't, what is going to happen out of this? I need to breathe. He follows after me and I try to scream as he gets closer. He keeps muttering the same words. "It will always be your fault."

I try to pull the door open and realized that there was blood covering them. I bang at the door and it doesn't make any noise, instead it shatters and I fall into the empty void of nothing.

I wake up in a hospital bed, my body stiff. I look around and Tara, Mindy and Chad are sitting down. "What's happening?" I mutter out, looking at them. They all get up and look down at me. "You had an overdose. Sam only said for you to take only five." Tara shakes her head. "You blacked out, Y/n. You were muttering things in your sleep." Mindy replies.

"But I swear it was real." I mutter. "What?" Chad asks. "The dream, Ethan, he was there! He kissed me!" I admit.

A/N - Even though no one asked for this, here it is!

#scream franchise #ethan landry x you #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream 5 #scream 2023 #angst #ethanissohot #jack champion fluff #jack champion x reader #ethan landry headcanons #ethan.txt

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backfromtwitterforw · 4 months

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/theory

The last tweet of Cellbit about pepito never being alone anymore because either q!cellbit will always be there or he will kill you makes me think that it's a possibility that q!Cellbit and q!Baghera might be the next menace now.

I don't know how someone could come back from the type of madness they fell into, and how anyone could set free from the type of submission they have regarding the watcher. At least it should take wayyy more than a few therapy sessions or a few days rest.

So if (or most probably when) q!Cellbit and q!Baghera comes back to quesadilla island, I don't think they'll ever go back to who they were. And I don't think they'll get "better" anytime soon. How could they ?

And they are so convinced that their children died with them. That them staying on this egg island wasn't useless. That all the other islanders abandoned their egg, and fled. That they killed each others with no results, which made them all sinners, deserving to suffer and die.

What would happen when they'll be put in a "normal" environment again? My theory is that they'll keep on believing everything stated before. Either all the time, or by relapsing. And that they'll never believe the eggs on quesadilla are theirs. If they're still a bit under the watcher's influence, they might believe that those eggs are made believes, fake ones provided by the federation since cucurucho brought them to the islanders. And that because of that they should be eliminated.

I think it's very probable that q!Cellbit and q!Baghera will try to kill the eggs, to get rid of what they will see as fake as q!Forever saw Rochas as real. And of course, they might try to hurt/kill their former friends along the way.

Imagining q!Cellbit and q!Baghera running with chainsaws after the eggs with the same kind of look on their faces and the same energy they had in purgatory is absolutely nightmare fuel and that's why I want it! And how will other islanders react? Wspwcially if/when they'll both begin to feel better but still loose touch with reality at times. Will they lock them up completely? Will they react to violence by violence? Will they try reason and talk?

No idea what's I store, but their lore is so heartbreaking and interesting, can't wait to see it !

#qsmp #qsmp theory #qpurgatory 2 #purgatory 2 lore #qcellbit #qbaghera #it's 6am and i slept 1:30 hour #thats where my mind is rn #hope itll still make sense when ill be rested

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webbedphantom · 4 days

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... I think I'm depressed again-

And because of that, I kinda want to ramble/vent about things. But since I don't wanna be a nuisance, I'm gonna just leave it under here for anyone who wants to read it.

Maybe it's just because of how hectic things have been lately, and how I missed my therapy appointment this week, but I'm just... constantly tired, even now that I'm starting to feel better from whatever I had a few days ago. And today I've just had that constant feeling of just... not knowing what to do, so I don't do anything. And when I do find something to do, I lose interest moments later.

Like I've tried to write replies, but then I'll hit a snag, or be unsure which reply to write, or think it's pointless because if they reply back, I won't be able to keep it going because I can't trim things without my computer... which I can't set up because my desk is still in storage, with no way to get it here without a truck, and nothing I can use as a temporary desk in the meantime.

And this goes on and on with a bunch of stuff, games I want to play, stuff I borrowed from the library, there's always something that gets in the way that keeps me from really sitting down and enjoying myself.

I hate feeling like this, and I hate even more that I feel like I can't talk to anyone about it, because when I'm depressed, I isolate myself, which makes it harder to reach out because I don't want to bother anyone. And I sure as hell can't go to any of my "family" about it, as lately I've been feeling like the term has no meaning, as most of mine just use that shared blood as an excuse to get things from you.

Which is kinda why I'm even making this. I don't typically do this, I don't like putting my personal problems out in public like this. But I don't really know how else to deal with these feelings, because I really don't wanna bother anyone, even though I know all of the people I'd usually tell this stuff to would be okay with it.

I'm not really sure what to do... My next therapy appointment is on Wednesday, but I go back to work on Tuesday, which kinda makes me anxious, especially since the person who hired me got transferred, so I have no idea what to expect anymore.

And on top of that, I just don't know what to do with myself in the meantime. I don't really have the energy to use any of my normal coping skills, and the few that I do haven't been working, so I'm just... lost.

Best I can think to do is reach out to my case manager and see if he can help me work through this, but... I'm not particularly hopeful about that. Still, it's all I got, and I did need to meet with him anyway, so I just gotta hope things work out.

I'll get through this. I always do. Doesn't mean it'll be easy, but... life is never really easy, is it?

#ooc - out of costume;#life update #vent post #kinda #tl;dr this is why i haven't been all that active lately

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lokisprettygirl · 2 years

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The Night Screams at The Slumber Island (Loki x Female Reader) (Horror Romance) (Dark) (Au) (18+)

Read Chapter 8 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 9

Summary : Loki tells you why you can see him and others can't.

Warning: discussion of rape, sexual abuse, gaslighting, cheating, mention of Suicide, discussion of mental illness, therapy please read carefully. If something triggers you please don't read it.

Note : This god Loki is mine and I wrote him the way I wanted. He's not the Norse god Loki and I don't mean to disrespect anyone who worships the original god, it's just a fictional story so read it as one. If you still choose to get offended make sure you keep your thoughts to yourself because idgaf 🥱

You didn't even remember the last moment you had actually laughed like this but you'd remember this one forever, as soon as he said that he was a god you started to laugh and couldn't stop, you had to move towards the couch and sit down, the laughter slowly transformed into a cry so he walked over and sat next to you. He was still thinking about the moment you had pulled him inside and kissed him passionately. It's been a long time since he had taken a lover, and he never had a human one before.

"I know it sounds unreal" he mumbled so you looked at him, your cheeks were soaked with a fresh set of tears, you had no idea what was happening to you, if you were losing your mind then this definitely was the weirdest scenario you could have created in your head.

"I'm going mental aren't I? They were right about me..I do make shit up..you're not real are you? It's probably the callback for all the times I have made fun of my mom's beliefs huh. That's it right? I'm cracking here and how" you mumbled and laughed again, the corner of his mouth curved into a small smile. The situation wasn't funny but he was amused, this is the most animated he has seen you until now, were you like this before the world ruined you with its cruelty?

"So you think I am not real darling?" His voice got deeper and he turned his body towards you, keeping his right leg on the couch as he scooted closer to you. You took a deep breath as the scent of his cologne hit you, you tried to remember the smell because Stephen said that the mind tends to associate the delusion with memories from the past. Unfortunately you came up with nothing.

"You can't be real.. it's just not possible" you said to him as your eyes teared up, you had tried to move on from the past and live your life but maybe it wasn't in the cards anymore.

"So if I do this–" he cupped your cheeks and you shivered, then he planted a soft peck on your right cheek "Is it not happening hmm?" He tilted his head and kissed the left cheek, making every cell in your body tingle with anticipation. His touch felt good and safe but maybe it felt that way because he didn't really exist, it felt good because you had made him up in your head and he wasn't a real man.

"It's not, I'm just hallucina–" before you could finish your words he had his lips on yours, the kiss was tender and slow, more romantic- less sexual and you knew deep down that you wanted him to keep going, take this further and wherever he wished to.

"Look at me darling and stop thinking for a moment okay? ..You're not making this up" he whispered between the soft kisses and your eyes teared up, what if he wasn't just your imagination? What if actually was the god? What would that even mean?

You suddenly pulled away from him and stood a few steps away from the couch, you noticed the bulge forming in his tight pants. Did Gods get erections?

"Tell me the truth, who are you?"

"I am telling you the truth since the beginning darling" Except once. He has only lied to you once.

"Nooo you're not.. when I met you and asked you if you were on the committee you said yes"

"I didn't say yes, I said something like that. Those were my exact words"

"Whyy?"

"Because I was there when they chose you to be here, they just couldn't see me" you ran your fingers through your hair as his answers only confused you.

"You said you were a musician"

"I am..it wasn't a lie, I love music, one of the greatest inventions of the mankind"

"You said you were here to explore"

"Isn't that what I am doing?"

You huffed as he said that. He had answers for everything.

"The sandalwood fragrance and the cigarette..you knew...you knew about my mom"

"Yess I did, because of your mother, I was trying to make you feel comfortable around me.. that's what I have been trying to tell you"

"Well why would you need to do that if you're such a god..can't you just enchant me or something? " you air quoted the term god and he chuckled.

"I absolutely can but that won't make you trust me, I wanted to earn it"

"Whyyyyy?" Your voice quivered as you spoke and he sighed.

"Because she prayed to me" you snickered as he said that.

"Prayed? Where were you when she killed herself" his eyes teared up as he grasped the hurt in your voice. He couldn't have helped her.

"I couldn't have saved her, the goddess of death takes what's hers. It's not my place"

"Are you being serious right now?"

"If you'd sit down and ask questions, I'll answer each and everyone of them"

You sighed and walked over to him, then you sat down on the couch again. If he was an actual god then why didn't he save her from dying?

"She worshiped you all her life"

"Does this mean you are accepting that you believe in my existence as a god?"

"I'm still on the fence" he smiled and shook his head..

"What connects you to me?" You asked him as you still didn't understand why he was there.

"Your mother"

"Because she worshiped you? Don't you have millions of them?"

"I do but I can't hear all of them"

"What do you mean?"

"I never asked to be worshiped, mortals do that on their own, they ask for money and prosperity, good health, a long life, it's hardly ever genuine" you hummed as you thought about it.

"So why did you answer her prayers?"

"Because for once in her life her prayer wasn't born out of selfishness. In her dying moments she called out to me and I could hear her. It has happened before, I have answered mortals before but it's rare, they don't actually know or understand me as much as they think they do"

You had to pinch yourself to make sure you weren't in a fever dream.

"What did she say to you?"

"She told me that her daughter has been through hell on earth and she deserves a peaceful life, she asked me to keep you in my protection forever so nothing would harm you ever again" your eyes teared up as he said that. She loved you, you never had to question that.

"She has prayed for me all her life, why was this any different from before?" He sighed as you asked him that. He knew it was coming.

"When mortals pray for their loved ones, they ask for their long healthy lives and want them safe, but it's not entirely selfless is it? Humans get emotionally and mentally hurt when their loved ones are in pain so they pray for them to never die because they know the grief would be unbearable for them to cope with, they know they'd be tormented by their memories so they pray for their closed ones to live forever, it's not unselfish entirely. Your mother was on her deathbed, she knew she won't be here to suffer anymore and it wouldn't affect her if you live or die after she's gone but she still wanted you safe. That's why I heard her, her prayers were pure in nature"

You didn't know what to say to him, a part of you believed in him but another part made you feel like a lunatic. Was it just your mind telling you what you wanted to hear?

"So you're an actual god? Where do you live?"

"Asgard, one of the realms"

"Soo all the gods are real?"

"Not all of them.. some were fabricated entirely by the mortals themselves" he chuckled and you looked at him surprised. Were you actually having a conversation with a god?

"You said something about your mother before, gods have mothers?"

"How do you think I came into existence? We are born and we die at some point, immortality isn't real, there's only one immortal goddess, the goddess of death"

"She sounds scary"

"Definitely is"

"I need someone to smack me so id know I'm not in a coma still"

"I can not do that, but there are several other things I can do to make you believe that what you're seeing and feeling at the moment is true" your face flushed at the remark. Did a god just flirt with you? Did he like you?

"Sooo have you been around me since she died?" She died a few months ago and you were still grieving, her death was what pushed you to leave everything behind and come here to live an isolated life.

"Yesss, but do not worry, I'm only around when you truly need me"

"Why did I start seeing you here? Why not before this?"

"Because you were safe out there and didn't need me before"

"So I need you now because I am alone here?" You asked him and he sighed. Maybe this was enough information for today, if he'd have told you why he was there he knew you'd want to run away and that would only make them hurt you.

"Something like that"

Your head had started pounding so you didn't ask any more questions, he told you that he was a magical being, he could disappear and reappear as he wished, he could create things and he could teleport. Of Course you didn't believe him so he showed you and that's when you passed out again.

When you woke up you thought you had imagined the whole conversation or maybe it was a vivid dream but as you stepped out you saw him in your kitchen making tea like a normal human being.

"Still here" he chuckled and you sighed. How could he be real? How come nobody knew about his actual existence?

"You look like a human" you mumbled as you stepped inside and jumped up to sit on the counter.

"Well I do apologize for that darling" he smiled and it made you smile too.

"Should I start worshiping you now?" You asked him so he walked towards you and placed his arms on either side of your thighs, the closeness made you nervous but at the same time you didn't want to push him away.

"Depends on how you want to do that love"

"Ummmm I ..I can light a candle and pray"

"That's dull..give me something original " you smiled as he said that, he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ears and kissed your forehead, you never understood before why he felt so warm and safe, he was just another man, but now you could see why.

"I adore you and if you ever want to explore me further..I'd love to worship you instead"

"Shutupp" you pressed your hand on his lips, his words made the butterflies go bananas inside you. The old you would probably flirt back but the new you couldn't even think about sex anymore without feeling the extreme hatred for all the men. Besides you were still getting used to him being an actual god. A part of you feared you'd wake up in a mental asylum someday.

"Sure miss" he stepped away and it left you feeling disappointed, you couldn't deny the fact that you were attracted to him and the feeling of the heated kiss you two shared still lingered on your lips. You wanted to get close to him but at the same time you felt repulsed by the act of sex itself.

He passed you the cup of tea and after a chit chat he left, you saw him stepping inside the house, he had told you that the house was real but it wasn't visible to anyone else but you. It was like an illusion.

"I think she believes me Minola but I can't expose the truth about you just yet, she's extremely fragile, it's too much for my little one" he mumbled as he sat down on the rocking chair and glared at the portrait, her gaze was angry and then she growled at him, her spirit jumped out to attack him but she couldn't. She wanted to get what she has always wanted but her ways never really worked, she never thought of the consequence.

"Nobody wants a bloody portrait to scream at them, why is it so hard for you to understand that you're not helping her?"

He had to put a stop on the brutality, sure he was your guardian now and could just get you out of here if he wished to do so, but he couldn't allow the people of the Island to take more innocent victims like you. Maybe for once he could act selfless as well.

As the night arrived he heard the screams and his eyes teared up. It pierced his heart every night because they weren't the howls of the mountain like he had made you believe. They belonged to you.

The screams you heard every night at the Slumber Island belonged to you only.

💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️

Taglist @mcufan72 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fraoid3 @wheredafandomat @michelleleewise @daddylokisqueen @123forgottherest @usagishira @elegantcheesecakecrown @sashas-recs @lukira1337 @vickie5446 @spageddyhoes @witchypandamonium @javagirl328 @slpnbty2001 @mochi661 @lovingchoices14 @annoyingsweetsstranger @army24--7 @el-zef @asgardianprincess1050 @loz-3 @whylokiissocute @holotacopeely @thomase1 @daggers-and-mischief @constablewafflebottom @marvel-love24 @crimson25 @laliceee

#loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader horror romance #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki x reader insert #loki x reader fic #loki x you #loki x reader angst #loki horror romance #loki horror au #loki au #loki alternate universe

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wooahaes · 1 month

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is it... is it not mutual anymore? :(

first of all anon the lil :( is so cute of u thank u for checking on me haha i was just kinda surprised its only been a week when it feels like its been way longer

but uh. ill go into it under a readmore.

its... kinda complicated? we still like each other, but i think being back in this situation reminds me of the last time i was in Something with a guy similar to this one (the biggest difference is current guy actually cares and adheres to my boundaries and i do the same for him). i think i've been kinda open with the fact how i was in an abusive... something with someone (said guy was never my bf, but we weren't Just friends, yknow? situationship or w/e you wanna call it) and this guy reminds me a little too much of the good parts of that other guy (few as they may be). he knows of said past (we were friends well before this and i've mentioned said ex-something before), and he's been mindful of it in the same way i try to openly communicate and discuss things with him (once i know how i feel).

like idk. i set a boundary recently, he's fully adhered to it, but i think that realization has... ultimately sent the fucked up part of me into defense mode and i don't know if i'm actually ready to be in a relationship. we're still going on another date next week and i've set that as the day for me to figure out how i feel for sure. i still feel fluttery and warm with him now, but if it's all punctuated by this dread i can't get rid of... then it's not fair to either of us, y'know? i'll admit said dread isn't as intense as it was before, so maybe i will be fine, but at the same time... he deserves to be in something with someone who Can fully be there for him and i'm still figuring out how much of a hold my trauma still has on me.

if anything, this might just be "right person, wrong time" if i'm honest. he likes me, i like him, but we've both agreed we can call this off at any time and go back to being friends without worry since we both have our fair share of baggage. nothing wrong with that, y'know? just... i guess i didn't how affected i am until it became real.

i'm still figuring it all out though! maybe this will pass, but... i dunno. i think if anything, i'm trying to use this as a learning experience for myself? if this doesn't work out, then i know i need to figure out what's scaring me so badly so that when i can, i can work it out in therapy. if it does work out, therapy is still in the cards, just... gotta figure things out.

i keep feeling like a shitty person for thinking "we'll do this next date, and then i'll figure myself out" but i know i still want to go on it. it's only a second date, y'know? it's okay if things don't work out. but... idk, the guilt is still there.

on top of that, i think i'm also dealing with a lot outside of this and it's definitely affecting me. figuring out grad school, dealing w my family, etc... it's a lot haha and maybe that's another sign i'm not fully ready yet.

but we'll figure it out. and if it doesn't work out, we'll probably take the time we need to take care of ourselves, and then we'll go back to being friends. neither of us wants to lose a close friendship just because we went on a few dates and it didn't work out, and i hope he's as determined as i am to ensure that doesn't happen. he's sweet. he deserves the world. and if that's not with me, then i'm still going to happily stand by and cheer him on--because he said he'd do the same for me, too.

#wooahaes.ask #asks.anon #i was kinda holding back on discussing any of this at length here but i figured i might as well because if i Do drop a vent fic...#it'll be like. obvious lmao #none of y'all are within our friend circle so i feel safer discussing it tbh like. strangers on his side know + y'all don't know him sooo..

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applbottmjeens · 6 months

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Sylas Thomas Pham who...

Was legally "Sylas Thomas Graves" but went by his mom's surname when he joined the SC to avoid his merit being overshadowed by his relation to their CEO and founder.

Grew up having to call Phillip "sir". Still does it now that he's grown.

Got kicked out of his private, catholic school at the age of 11 for fighting other kids.

Fought more kids in public school but miraculously calmed down when his baby brother Phillip begged him to stop. (other kids were afraid to be junior's friend)

Was a boy scout because his dad made him do it. Got reaaally good at tying knots and setting shit on fire. Maybe he shouldn't have been a boy scout.

Nobody calls him Sylas. Well, some people do. But if you know him, you know he goes by Tommy. Calling him by his government will make him feel weird.

Told Phillip "YOURE NOT MY REAL DAD" once and got hit with "I CHANGED YOUR DIAPERS AND MARRIED YOUR MOTHER I AM THE REALEST DAD YOU'RE EVER GON' GET"

Is somehow babied to death by his mother and has to kneel down when he gets scolded by her.

Has to deal with Junior's eccentricities and his extroverted family despite being introverted

Played lacrosse or football in highschool. Highkey a jock but didn't run the same circles as them.

Would've become a nurse if he didn't join the army.

Left the Shadow Company because of a disagreement with Graves, one of them being having Phillip Jr. be involved (he's too clean for a job like this.)

Masked up and was mostly anonymous. Not alot of people knew him as Graves' kid. Liked getting his hands dirty and did as he was told.

Told Phillip Jr. he didn't have what it took to be the SC's heir- not out of jealousy or spite, but because as clever and as sly junior was, he was still "too good".

Cannot express himself for shit. Horrible with vulnerability.

Hates therapy. Goes anyway because goddamn it- it works.

Has had maybe two serious girlfriends but can't be bothered to really date- relationships require getting to know people, and he doesn't wanna go through all of that for something that probably won't work.

Got his mom's stubborn attitude and faulty loyalty. Still considers himself a part of the SC despite no longer fucking with them and will latch to a group if he learns to love it.

Honestly? Horribly lonely.

Can't dance. Refuses to dance. Can't sing. Doesn't like karaoke.

Only rode a motorcycle in highschool/college because his dad told him he could have it if he could fix it. (he did not believe he could fix it.)

Has a bunch of scars, inculding a giant one that wraps around his head. The story changes everytime. Nobody really knows how he got it. He calls it his "halo"

100% believes he will go to hell for everything he's done, but won't stop himself from doing it since he believes he's doing whats right.

Has almost killed Nikolaj Zakhaev. Or Nikita. Those fuckers look alike, shit who knows which one it was.

Doesn't even know why he's doing any of this anymore.

Was mentored by his mom's old teammates when he finally got recruited to the 141. Looked up to his uncle Kyle/Gaz a whole lot (much to Anna's chagrin) and especially to the legacy of Ghost.

#tommy “saint” pham #call of duty: aces au #zakhaev twins #annabelle pham #shadow company #phillip graves

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

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AITA for being apparently indifferent with my siblling?

For context, I (26) have a younger sibling (23). We have the type of relationship where either we get along really well, or we don't even talk. I love my sibling, but during our childhood and adolescence they were... well, a bully. which made me put quite some distance between us. They are becoming a better person now, but there are still some boundaries that I set that I'm not taking back.

Growing up, my father used to pamper us often. However (in my case) my mother was a strict parent, and there were times when she used to make me feel like a burden (I was dealing with depression and suicidal tendencies). This made me aspire to become independent and so I tried to do things on my own as much as possible. As a side effect, I started seeing things from a new perspective, I felt satisfied for allowing myself to learn new things, and I became more grateful for everything that others did for me.

However, my sibling's case was different; since they continued to be handed everything, they didn't ever have to struggle. And while that sounds cool, it seems to me that this didn't leave much room for growth. I believe this shouldn't really have to bother me that much, but we still live together, and they don't know how to take "no" for an answer, and now that we both are adults and have graduated, I can't help but to feel irritated by their attitude and behavior.

They are currently unemployed and they are not helping more with the chores at the house. This has been going on for some time now.

My sibling has depression, and so I'd tried to be supportive and do them favors. But one day I was very stressed; I had a lot going on in my mind, my sibling wanted to spend some time together but I told them I had a lot of work but that It Wasn't Personal. The next day, I was doing them a favor, but they bitched complained that I was "doing it wrong" (which I wasn't) and this pissed me off very much, since I could have refused to help them to begin with. I told them that I was giving them my time, that they were being ungrateful and that I didn't think it was fair that they talked to me that rudely, but they got even more upset.

Afterwards I went out to work and when I got back home I went straight to my bedroom for a quick nap. Few minutes later, they broke into my room and they started throwing me things I had in common spaces (which weren't being used by anyone). I usually take a step back whenever I'm hot headed in order to avoid saying nasty things during arguments, but in this ocassion things got out of hand and I even if I tried I couldn't ignore their provokations. I called them out for bad things they'd done in the past and that was the only way I could end the argument. Evidently this hurt them a lot, but I didn't want to or sought to argue in the first place. They threatened and emotionally blackmailed me with life and death situations (I'll spare y'all the many details), and I felt like this was a lost cause; it was not the first time those kind of threats were made.

The reason I'm wondering if I'm the asshole here is that it has been weeks since I decided not to engage in any interaction with them. To be honest it is more comfortable for me to simply mind my own business and not do them favors anymore (cooking and cleaning for them, taking them to appointments, therapy, dentist, vet, bank, etc, you get the idea) because they are not even grateful (they literally don't even say "thank you" nor do they do anything out of gratfeulness) and I am too emotionally drained to feel anything anymore. Having dealt with their tantrums and having been bullied by them in the past made distance actually feel safe and comfortable for me, and so I am not seeking to fix things currently even though I know they feel resentment towards me. Despite they being my sibling I just don't care that much.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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lily-in-thevalley · 2 years

Text

Worlds Apart

Brian's first concert after losing you, the love of his life, in an accident. (A stand alone one-shot type story, separate from any future posts or stories)

Tw: mentions of death, mentions of self harm, mentions of therapy/anti-depressants

"Hello?" Brian's voice croaked across the reciever, hoarse from having fallen asleep a mere few hours ago.

"Is this Mr. Brian May?" The woman's official tone had him sitting up in bed.

"Um... Yes that's me can I help you?"

"You were listed as the emergency contact for (y/full name)"

***

There was a noticable absence. Like the hole punched in the wall during Brian's last fit it stared at everyone in the room. No giggling while doing eachother's make up. No planning on where to meet after the show. No smiles. Just tense, nervous silence.

Brian sat with his head hanging, the weight of what he was about to do bringing him further down than he thought he could feel. He reached under his sleeve, thinking it was going unnoticed as he scratched at a thin cut that was just now healing over.

"Darling stop" the silence before almost felt better than knowing Freddie knew what Brian was doing. "Can't have you bleeding all over the place on stage" Brian just huffed out what little air his lungs would hold and set to bouncing his leg instead.

He didn't get this way. Brian never had pre show jitters this bad, you were always there to make him laugh and tell him it'll be ok. But this was his first show... Without you. For the first time since he'd started playing on stage he wouldn't have you there. Nothing, not even playing, was a safe place anymore. He'd start playing, remember all the songs he'd written for you, and then shake with each misplaced, half pronounced note till he couldn't see what he was playing anymore.

Brian ducked out of the gentle hand that Roger had put on his shoulder. His voice carried the weight same weight his body showed.

"Please don't touch me right now" that was all it took for Roger to back away, muttering a quiet apology.

"Queen, you're on in ten"

His legs bounced faster, the little scabs on his wrist were ripped off with worrying speed, his eyes darted about the room like every little movement scared him. Brian shot up from his seat.

"I can't do this, I'm sorry I can't-" his lip was starting to turn pink from the abuse he'd been putting it under all month. "I can't play Fred-" a gentle yet firm hand gripped Brian's arm, one that almost sent him back into hysterics. The kind that had them paying for two trashed hotel rooms, unhealthy amounts of alcohol, and now a hole in the wall of a venue they didn't own.

"Darling-"

"No, stop I can't play anymore they're not here!" His eyes flashed with the most intense heat and the deepest pain. Freddie almost stopped breathing for fear of setting him off. It was John that mustered up the courage to speak before anyone else.

"They'd strangle you if you stopped playing" his dead pan tone would have made anyone else mistake it for uncaring and harsh. But they knew what he was trying to do, Roger and Freddie caught on.

"Could you imagine the look on (y/n)'s face?" Roger put on an impression of you "'Brian get your arse out there and play before I do it myself'"

"Guys stop it-"

Freddie jumped in, "'c'mon star boy, you can hear them all begging to see you' can't you hear them saying it?" Brian's breathing got shallow and quick, tears threatening to overwhelm him while he bit down harder on his lip. "And my god the fit they'd have if they saw you biting your lip like that"

"(Y/n) promised not to miss a single show of yours" John got cut off as Brian broke into a sob, his entire frame shaking and sinking back down into his seat. Brian dug his palms into his eyes, paying no mind to any pain that came along.

"Darling... They're not gonna miss this one, c'mon we've got to go out"

"I- I can't play- just makes me think about- I should have-" three hands settled on Brian's shoulders. "... Please don't make me go out without them"

***

He felt it was all only proving his point. Brian *couldn't* play without you. The world was punishing him for even trying. His soul was in tatters, nothing gave him fuel to play. His music didn't have anything to it, just notes while he tried to avoid looking out in the crowd.

Brian's chest constricted while his hands clutched to the 12 string. He could remember you buying it for him and Freddie to share, though he was the only one who played it. Even if it was his, it really wasn't anymore. It was empty. Soulless.

The size of the crowd overwhelmed him for the first time in years, thousands of voices and none of them were yours. He put on a brave face again as he went back on stage. The stool seemed miles away before he could finally give his weak knees a rest.

"Alright" he paused, the sheer mass of his voice making it catch in his throat. "We're gonna play a little song for you guys it's... A lot different than the other songs um-" he looked around at the faces waiting for him to carry on. Thousands and thousands of people and yet he could barely get any words out this time.

"I uh..." He wiped at his cheeks, trying to mask his tears as a bit of sweat. "I'd like to dedicate this song-" he got choked up, his words coming out scratchy and raw "I'd like it to be for my friend" he shoved the mic away before the first real sob came out.

It took everything in his body to keep his fingers moving. With one note he was back at ridge farm with you, strumming lazily in the grass while you curled up beside him. Another note was your first kiss, the cold air on his lips after you'd parted lingering in the present.

"Love of my life, don't leave me"

His breath caught just as it did when he saw you for the first time. He could still feel the way your breath tickled when you kissed his cheek goodbye.

"You've stolen my love, you now desert me"

The tears were flowing freely by now. You had truly, really left him. His love was gone, they'd never come back they were gone.

"Bring it back, bring it back"

Brian's thoughts turned bitter. 'fucking tried to get it back, look where that got me' he thought back to the meds he was supposed to be taking. The ones he decidedly hadn't been taking.

***

"I'm not fucking drugging myself up Fred! They want me to forget (y/n) I'm not doing it!"

"They just want you to take two a day, they won't make you forget they'll just help you less anxious"

"No! Fuck that I'm not taking them!" The bottle of pills smacked against the wall and burst open, scattering them everywhere, where they stayed.

***

"Thank you" Brian hadn't realized they'd finished the song till Fred had his hand on Brian's shoulder.

"You did great darling" Brian just pulled him into a hug and whispered

"I miss them, I miss them so much Fred" the hand on his back helped him get backstage again

"We all do bri, you don't have to hide away all hurt."

Brian pulled him into another hug and let a soft breeze wash over him

"I love you boys" a heartbeat later and the voice was gone, carried away with the wind. But they heard it none the less.

They heard you.

#brian may #brian may x reader #character death #mentions of death #selfharn #hurt/comfort

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pebblesmustard · 9 months

Text

She Says She's Depressed

There's a certain kind of rejecting my mind does whenever I think I might be in the throes of depression.

As if it can't be that, surely not that, because everything is fine. I wake up, do some movements to remind my body to keep itself in check, eat well and drink water, maybe read something for a while, and everything is fine.

But the pit in my stomach, the sudden sinking feeling of my heart stops me in my tracks whenever I recognize it.

It feels like the last time I'd felt this way, which was months ago and since then I've been working on myself in therapy, and I've felt fine.

But then I read about a self-exiled journalist, how at one point of moving across Europe he texted his then partner that he was lonely, so lonely that he didn't even care about a sexual sort of intimacy anymore, he only wanted "somebody to stroke his hair"...and it wrecks me because I understand the feeling.

And then I feel like the most horrid person alive because somehow I make an exiled journalist's hardships about myself and my more than priviliged life in which I actually have never and probably could never feel that kind of loneliness.

So I tell myself, "everything is fine".

Everything is fine because a line in the book I'm reading just made me break out in laughter. Everything is fine because I laughed at a joke I read on the internet. Everything is fine because there are times where I do feel fine.

But then the protagonist of the book I'm reading is talking about traveling to Europe with her friends the summer after her first year in college and I have a pang of longing in my chest. I remember that not only have I never had that experience, but that I probably never will. I don't have many friends, and with the way things are I won't ever be able to travel unless someone very generous and very fictional just hands me a large sum of money.

And then I remember how I feel so far away, so inadequate of being something to people that I'm convinced my presence is merely tolerated--and then I'm slowly isolating myself.

From my family, my friends across all mediums, even from the hobbies that give me such comfort.

I feel terrible for having such a sour expression around my family. Like I can't tolerate them. Even though I love them. It feels like I'm hurting them.

I feel like a shell of a human.

I remember that I haven't been able to write anything "worthy" in a long time, and then I get mad at myself because what the fuck is a "worthy" writing anyway? Isn't the mere fact that it came from something as intangible as the mind and then put on paper, or just even thought of make it something?

Nevertheless, it scares me that I won't be able to write anything of note again whenever I pick up the pen and still end up with a blank page.

It makes me feel like an outsider.

I tell myself that it's fine.

I know it's fine.

But then I take a look at everything. And everything is not fine.

There's a stench, a terrible rottenness, a decay that I feel powerless to stop.

And so that tiny bit of effort to just hold on slowly fades.

And the moment I start thinking about what the point of it all is the chirping of a sparrow brings a smile to my lips that I'm unable to stop.

One step outside, one moment of feeling the wind sweep around me from head to toe, and I feel like letting go. Before anyone can ask me if I'm okay, I let the tears run free and wait for the inevitable numbness that'll set in, its heaviness waited for with a certain excitement.

But I must feel fine because I still make conversations with friends (I try to). I text someone about something that reminded me of them, ask another if she's feeling better after getting bit by a really nasty mosquito while traveling another part of the globe, sending one a picture that I'm sure will make them laugh.

So everything must be fine.

Calling it depression feels like I'm trying to be part of something that I'm not. Like I'm intruding on a group of people in which every single person knows I'm not being authentic.

And I know it doesn't work that way.

Or, rather, I know that the thought process of depression works exactly that way for some. Like we're impostors even in this aspect of life.

As if, if I tell someone that I feel depressed they'll recount that to someone else with "she says she's depressed"--like what I said is an alleged statement.

And maybe it is.

Because I do feel fine.

I do stop to look at the tree I planted whenever I pass by it on my way home.

I laugh at jokes and I dance to the music I listen to.

I get excited for new art to come.

I also cry because I feel like I won't amount to anything in this life.

I cry because I feel lonely, even though loneliness has never scared me until now. Even though I still find some comfort in it.

I cry because I can't attain the life I crave to live.

And then the shame comes that I'm complaining about what is still a good life. These maybe aren't things to even complain about because there are others that have it way worse in life. (I can hear my therapist saying that I'm minimizing my feelings--and I want to say "No, actually, because I feel like the shame thing is pretty big.")

I mean to say that I'm still grateful for this life. I don't want to seem like I'm not. (My therapist is in my head right now, "Those things can coexist; just because you're feeling depressed doesn't make you ungrateful. There isn't a tally kept on people who have 'good' lives but still feel depressed." "You're not an asshole for feeling this way" is what I want her to say, which makes me feel like more of an asshole somehow.)

Anyway.

These words make it feel like I'm not alone in this, and I know I'm not.

Even if it's not fine now, it will be. At some point. Maybe for a minute today, or an hour tomorrow, or not at all for a while.

Because the sparrows will still chirp, the tree I planted will still stand tall, and there will be more pictures that will hopefully make a friend smile.

#i have no idea what this is #does it qualify as an essay?#let's call it an essay practice #or some stream of consciousness bullshit that i felt like putting here #i know i'm going to look back at this and be like “do you even know english?” and “ugh you pretentious bitch” lol #tw: depression talk

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