#it just sucks we've lost so many people this way it makes it even harder to talk to people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

damiano-mylove · 3 years

Text

Condescending Bitch

Pairing: Thomas Raggi x reader

Wc: 2.5k

Cw(s): swearing, kissing, crying, probably typos (as per usual, tell me if it sucks)

Summary: Reader breaks up with their boyfriend and Thomas consoles them.

Masterlist

If honesty be a virtue, you'd be virtuous to plainly say you'd fallen out of love with your boyfriend and you had done so a while ago. It wasn't deliberate, it was a gradual fizz wherein you found your heart warming for someone else. You felt horrible about it and that guilt had been eating at you. There was no cheating, but you didn't think you'd be able to avoid it for much longer. Not to mention, it wasn't only the non-existent feelings, Luca was just an asshole when you weren't blinded by love.

There comes a time where one must throw in the towel, and now was that time for you.

You couldn't do it at a restaurant; knowing Luca, he'd cause a scene. You couldn't do it at some meeting place; it would ruin that place forever and ever to both of you. And that shit's just not fair.

In the end, you couldn't make the decision. So you put every single item of Luca's clothing in a bag (and a couple things he'd left around your flat), and drove over to his house while you still had the nerve. You'd gathered and lost the nerve a couple times before, but the plan was already in motion now. Hell, there was no plan, but whatever you were raring to do was up and running.

You drove straight to Luca's mother's house in record time. Time flies when you're laser focused.

"Y/n!" Luca's mother exclaimed joyfully as you entered the kind looking house. How someone like Luca came out of Mrs. Batali was a wonder in and of itself. Once Mrs. Batali spotted the bag in your hand, she frowned. "Has something happened, Bambino?"

Somehow, the hardest part of this breakup would be bidding goodbye to Luca's mother, and not Luca himself. You sighed, "I'm sorry, Signora. Luca and I have been having issues for a while now."

"Oh, don't be sorry, Bambino." The older lady's kind smile returned to her face, which struck a heart string you hadn't even known existed. Mrs. Batali swayed toward you, in all of her vanilla scented goodness. She hugged you around your neck loosely, which you returned around her wide hips. "You're always welcome for dinner and a roof. Don't let the stupid boy stop you from seeing me."

God gave two gifts to this world; one of them was Mrs. Batali.

A smile cracked across your face as your chest continued to tighten and hurt. You loved this family like your own, and you loved Luca at some point. So many memories were made in the throws of this relationship, and it was all going to be thrown out the window by you. But it was too late now.

"Ti amo." Mrs. Batali placed a kiss to your forehead which made your smile even more genuine. She patted your shoulder, finally releasing you from her motherly grasp. Sadly, she raised her arm to the stairs to Luca's bedroom. "I'll be down here, if you need me."

You smiled once more to the older lady and bowed your head in silent thanks. If you uttered a word, the word would lead to tears. It seemed the two of you knew this.

It was the last thing you wanted to do right now, but you had to seal the deal.

Without your consent, your feet began moving toward the stairs then up the stairs. Your heart beat in sickening rhythm with your footsteps, but your heart seemed more heavy than your feet. It was ridiculous. You were ready to throw up, pee, or meltdown - you didn't know which one, if it was one at all.

At long last, after walking down the longest hallway of your life, you stood in front of Luca's closed door. You remembered all the times you'd breeze in, going straight into Luca's arms for a kiss. His breath wasn't always good and he was a bad kisser, but he made you feel infatuation. Now it only seemed a fraction of what you felt for the other person. Yes, God, that was why you had to do this.

You knocked. Your heart was deafening.

"Come in!"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You pushed open the door, feeling like you were having a heart attack. Luca smiled brightly at you from the light of his computer. Then he laid eyes on the bag. Don't know how, it was dark as fuck in the room. And smelt of cheap body spray and dirty clothes.

"Hey, Babe, I wasn't expecting you," Luca smiled, trying to act off the bag of his clothes and gifts in your hand. You flicked on the light as he stood up to close the door behind you.

This room is fucking disgusting. It was truly noxious.

"Alright, Luca, sit down, we've got to talk," you told him, putting on your bravest and thickest voice. It worked because the air in the room changed. The air grew thick and impossible to breath. It could've been cut with a knife. Luca sat on his bed, hands in his lap. You placed the bag on the ground and sighed, "We're breaking up."

For a second, he was unresponsive. Luca didn't say a word until he looked you in the eye, what felt like a full minute later. His bottom lip quivered. "You're dumping me?"

"You can tell people you dumped me, I don't mind," you quipped, trying to make the situation better. You did not, in fact, make the situation better. You potentially made it about thirteen times worse.

"No, you're not." Luca stood up again. Your breath caught in your throat. "We're not breaking up."

He took a few quick steps to you. You stood your ground, trying to be as brave as possible. Your mask was slipping. The last thing you wanted right now was for Luca to see that you were cracking under his gaze. That would be fucking horrendous.

All of a sudden, Luca barked out a laugh. He looked like a madman. "This is about that Thomas bitch, isn't it?" You didn't answer, and your facial expressions gave nothing away. Then Luca snapped, "Isn't it?!"

"If you want to fucking shout, we can shout," you seethed. Luca blinked angrily at you. "We're adults - act like it."

"You're a condescending bitch."

"And you're an ugly prick, but I've never complained about that. You've called me a condescending bitch about 3 times and a flat-out bitch more than a dozen," you recalled quickly, with venom dripping off each syllable. It shut Luca up. However, he began to cry. You felt nothing but hatred now. "You're one pathetic bitch to be crying over the girl who you treat like a fucking doormat." Luca only cried harder. No sympathy. You spun on your heel and opened the door.

Without a glance back, you left.

Mrs. Batali smiled at you on your way out and gave you a freshly baked bun, which you thanked her profusely for.

It didn't take long for reality to set in, however. The adrenaline faded as you drove back to your flat complex. You began crying at the wheel and completely broke down in the car park. Tears streamed down your face like rivers, snot clogged your nose. Your mouth tasted horrible so you started to eat the bun Mrs. Batali had baked. It was so good that you started crying harder.

How the fuck could you do that? At this point, you were too sad to give a fuck about sobbing in a car park at 6 in the evening. You just threw in the towel of a year long relationship, in the blink of an eye. Like it was nothing and meant nothing to you whatsoever, which wasn't true at all. You felt like a horrible person.

Your chest clogged up with emotions and stale air, your throat grew a lump that you couldn't swallow down. Now you were the pathetic one. Crying in a shitbox car over your ex while eating fucking bread.

A tap on the window scared the Jesus out of you.

When you looked at the source, the other person was looking right back at you, looking worried and confused. Leave it to Thomas to look sad just because you were sad. Thomas looked so fucking good even though a blur of teary eyelashes. He made the hand crank motion, so you rolled down your window.

"Are you okay?" Thomas asked. You just started laughing. What a stupid fucking question. Thomas began chuckling, realizing how stupid it was himself. "Fair enough. Fancy a cup of tea and a chat or shall I leave you to your car bread?"

How the fuck could he make you laugh in times like these?

You smiled then shooed him away from your car door so you could open it. He obliged and moved back, for you to get out, still with bread and keys in hand. Thomas furrowed his eyebrows as you two began walking back to the flat complex you both lived in. "Aren't you going to roll up the window?"

"How the fuck is anyone meant to steal it when all the windows are up?" It was your turn to earn a laugh from Thomas. Thomas' laugh hit your ear like honey. The sort of honey that your mother gave you to cure your sore throat before nursery. It was soothing and just the right thing for the situation.

As you walked up the stairs with Thomas, you realized he was taking you to his flat. To be fair, he was the one who offered you tea. What's he going to do? Offer you your own tea?

Thomas unlocked the ugly blue door of his flat that everyone in the building had a copy of. The second you both walked into the flat, warmth enveloped you, along with sandalwood and spices from Thomas' extensive spice cabinet. He must have been cooking earlier because it smelt Heavenly. Everything was in perfect place with just the right amount of mess and disorganization to make it seem like a home.

"I'll put the kettle on, sit anywhere," Thomas instructed after you both took your shoes off. You were wearing ratty trainers while Thomas was wearing perfectly clean Vans.

You nodded and flung yourself on one of his couches with a sigh. The couch was soft, warm and welcoming and you felt tired from crying and yelling and just the day in general. It was a shit day, that started with your toast burning and ended with this shit. A nap would really do good.

However, Thomas had other plans entirely. He placed a purple mug, full of tea with what looked like your golden ratio of milk and sugar. Thomas was your best friend, of course he knew your golden ration. You knew his. With a smile, you sat up which allowed Thomas to sit beside you and drape his arm over the back of the couch.

"Feel like telling me why you were crying in your car?" Thomas asked. You laughed lightly and sipped the piping hot tea.

"Broke up with Luca about-" you checked a clock. "-30 minutes ago."

As horrible as it sounds, Thomas' face lit up. His facial features remained the same but his beautiful green eyes lit up like candles in a dark room. "Is that so?"

"He called me a condescending bitch."

"So he hasn't gotten a new script," Thomas smiled. You chuckled lightly and sniffed. Your nose was still clogged from all the crying. You just didn't feel like blowing your nose like an elephant in front of Thomas right now. "He'll never get the chance to get a new script for you now."

"Thank God above," you sighed out with a laugh to your words. Thomas smiled. "I'll miss his mum though. Wonderful lady."

Thomas sipped his own tea and you discretely moved closer to him. It wasn't as discrete as you'd thought because Thomas picked up and moved a bit closer to you with a stupid smile on his face. "So how'd it go down?"

Like friends do, you told him everything, down to the detail. All but Luca being right, with Thomas being the other man who'd stolen your heart. That wouldn't be a key detail here because the last thing you needed today was to dump your boyfriend then directly after scare your best friend away from you forever.

But he wasn't scared off by you telling him Luca though you were leaving him for Thomas. Thomas actually smirked at that part, like the thought amused him. You didn't think anything of it actually, except for how cute Thomas was when he was smirking.

Eventually, the conversation faded and you were hip to hip with Thomas. With a sigh, he rested your head in the crook of Thomas' neck. His feather soft hair tickled the side of your face but you wanted nothing else for the moment. The scent of Thomas' cologne was prominent when you were this close to him, but you weren't going to complain about that. His arm fell from the back of the couch to around your shoulders.

Feeling Thomas' head turn to you, you looked up at him. Thomas' hand lightly squeezed you arm. Your breath hitched in your throat as you thought you were imagining Thomas observing your face.

Those gorgeous green eyes that you could stare into all day were scanning your face gently. They landed on your lush lips, then back to your eyes. All it took was a small nod for Thomas to lean in.

It was slow. It was slow, but undeniably sweet. The passion was palpable the minute your lips met his, just as you had been dreaming of for months now. His pillow-like lips were perfectly moisturized, but not over-saturated. The lip balm he used was strawberry flavoured and you'd never admired strawberry flavoured lip balm as you were in this moment.

As suddenly as it began, it ended.

Thomas leaned back for a second, looking guilty. "You need time to get over Luca, this is wrong."

"I've been over Luca for months." You placed a kiss to his lips, which Thomas accepted for a second, then backed out of again. You groaned. "Thomas, Luca was right. I'm in love with you."

In a stunned silence, Thomas' cheeks turned bright red. A broad smile grew on his face and you felt confident in your confession. You meant it, surely, but now you were confident that you did the right thing in telling Thomas.

"I've been in love with you since we went to the Capitoline." Thomas' voice cracked as he made his confession. Your heart bustled with warmth. He'd been pining for you all this time just to watch you run with Luca.

You couldn't take your aching heart. Grabbing Thomas' face gently, you pressed your lips to his again. He gladly returned this kiss with fervour and renewed zeal. Nothing else mattered while your lips were joined with Thomas' lips. Nothing would ever be able to induce the utter happiness and peace you'd felt in this moment.

After the kiss lasting for a while, Thomas pulled you to sit on his lap. He cupped your sweet face gently and smiled into your brilliant eyes. He kissed your nose. "May I tell you something else, Y/n?"

"Anything."

"I don't think you're a condescending bitch."

#måneskin #maneskin #thomas raggi #thomas maneskin #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi fanfiction #manskin fanfiction #x reader

242 notes · View notes

miss-smutty · 3 years

Text

The Destructive Secret - Chapter 1

A/N- So first of all, extremely mature themes, strictly 18+ only This is my baby, I love it and I'm so excited for it but oh my lord! My poor heart writing this. This is going to be a super angsty series. Since I got the idea I've been desperate to get it written, even though it's going to break my heart. The dynamics of it have been driving me insane because I want the first chapter to have a air of mystery to it but then how do I tag it without giving it away? 😩 So I've purposefully left out names in this chapter so you don't know who's who and all will be revealed in good time. Can you work out what's happening? I'd love to hear your thoughts ❤️

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Summary- You've got a secret to hide and it's going to cause complete and utter destruction.

Word count- 2,197

Warnings- Mature themes, swearing, smut, angst, deceit, lies

18+ only!

Taglist-: @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke

Posted: 25th Feb 2021

"Babe, don't hate me... I have to go out of town for another conference this weekend" The deep confliction you feel everytime you do this to your boyfriend, never gets any easier.

"I don't hate you, we'll make up for it next week. How about a little romantic trip, just the two of us" he says sweetly, making your heart tug, you wish he was a bad guy it would make this a lot easier.

"That sounds like a great plan, I'll make it up to you tonight" you say, distracted by your thoughts.

"Well that sounds... Intriguing. I'll see you tonight babe" he hung up the phone but you kept it to your ear, still deep in thought before finally realising and putting the phone on the desk next to your computer.

You finished typing up the letter you were working on before the phone call, looking back and forth from your phone to the screen of your computer, still distracted by your thoughts. The butterflies in your stomach making you feel sick. You gave in and grabbed your phone, typing out a text quickly.

-I've told him. Pick me up from work at 5.30 Friday - you stop typing to think for a minute, before finishing the text with two kisses - xx

You try to get your head back into work, the neverending pile of deadlines building up on your desk next to you. When your phone vibrates the desk loudly, you look around to make sure no one's watching you before giving in to your curiosity and picking up your phone.

-Great, see you Friday. I can't wait to see you xxx

You try to feel excited but the overwhelming amount of guilt you feel always overrides that. You wish it could be different, that you could've met in a different way. That you could actually thoroughly enjoy the time you have together rather than feeling a deep shamefulness everytime you meet.

You've got yourself into something so deep that you can't think of a way out of it, either way it ends somebody is going to be hurt. In fact, one way or the other, you're all going to be hurt.

*******************

"Hey babe, did you have a good day?" Your boyfriend greets you as you walk into the kitchen, filled with the aromas of the food he was cooking for you.

"It was ok, busy. This smells amazing. What you making?" You ask, kissing him on the cheek as he stands over the stove, stirring a pot of delicious smelling liquid.

"I'm just making a sauce for the pasta" he says letting go of his wooden spoon and grabbing you by the hand to spin you around and face him.

"Did you bring dessert?" He says into your ear, moving your hair to the side and planting kisses down your neck.

"What no, was I supposed to?" You couldn't remember him saying anything about dessert, yet you'd been pretty distracted most of the day.

"I'm sure you said something about making it up to me tonight?" He smirks, pulling you in for a lingering open mouthed kiss.

"Oh, yeah. That kind of dessert" you say, pulling away slightly.

"Are you ok? You seem kinda ... Distracted" he asks, a look of concern on his face as you shuffle though the papers in your bag.

"No, sorry babe. It's just work, I've had a lot on my mind today" you lie, sort of. You had a lot on your mind it just wasn't work related, even though you wish it was.

As you put the papers back into your bag you can feel your phone vibrating. Fuck sake, not now. Becoming flustered you accidentally drop the bag onto the glass table, nearly jumping out of your skin from the loud noise your phone made as it hit the glass.

You notice your hands shaking as you hold your phone in front of you, cursing yourself under your breath for being so pathetic. Reading the text has your heart beating at an unbelievable pace, making you light headed and dizzy.

-Can you meet me tonight? I hate this, I hate not being able to see you whenever I like. Please Y/N xxx

You pull out a chair and sit down before you fall down, why do you have to be pulled about in so many different directions? It was so hard leading a double life and keeping your dirty little secret, it literally ate away at your soul. You were a shell of the person you used to be, completely consumed with lies and deceit.

Sleepless nights, tossing and turning caused by guilt and work schedules and then still having to sneak away whenever you could. You lost yourself, trying to keep two people happy while completely forgetting about yourself.

"Babe?"

"Huh?" You say looking up from your phone, you hadn't realised he'd been speaking to you.

"I said, red or white? He asks, furrowing his brow at you.

"Sorry, what?" You look confused, shaking your head as if to shake the thoughts right out of there. You have no idea what he's talking about.

"Wine? Foods ready. Do you want red or white... wine?" Looking more concerned.

"Oh, white please. Thank you, this looks amazing" you say, putting your phone into your shirt pocket and tucking your chair under the table, ready to get started. It really did look amazing, you don't deserve him.

You watched him sit down opposite you, his ridiculously blue eyes catching yours as his fork passes to his lips. He smiles that sweet smile at you, the one that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. The memories of the years flash in front of your eyes in an instant, the first time he told you he loved you, the first kiss, the first time you made love, beautiful, beautiful memories. You can feel a tear prickling at the corner of your eye, lowering your head, hoping he didn't see.

"Are you sure you're ok?" He asks, reaching across the table to hold your hand in his. The feel of his touch on your hand sends shivers down your spine and the tears spill from your eyes without warning. You hear his chair screech as he pushes it backwards and rushes to your side.

"Babe, please tell me what's wrong?" He kneels In front of you while you rest your head in your hands, completely overwhelmed with guilt. This poor man, my man, how could I do this to him?

"Don't be nice to me, I don't deserve it" you say, self-loathing.

"What are you talking about? Come here" he pulls you up and sits down with you on his lap, lifting your face to look at him which makes you cry even more.

"I've been so distant with you, so consumed in my damn work that I've been totally neglecting you - " you cry, looking up at him sincerely, tears streaming down your face messily " - I'm so sorry" if only he knew how sorry you actually were. You loved him, he was your first everything, which makes it even harder for you.

"Hey don't be so silly. I'm a big boy, I think I can handle you being a little distracted, it just means when we do get time together it's more special. You've put up with so much from me, with the tabloids and papparzzi. You took it all on when we were still so young and never complained once, this is nothing compared to that" he wipes the tears away from your cheeks. Oh baby, please don't blame yourself.

"I would do it all over again, you know? It was worth it, I'd never change it. You're my childhood sweetheart, we've grown up together and I... I" you're balling like a baby now.

"Shh, baby. Please don't worry about it. You need a break, you've been working way too hard" if only he knew.

He nudges the side of your face with his soft bearded cheek until you give in and look up at him. The tears are also starting to well in his eyes and he smiles at you, at how silly and emotional you're both being. You suck it up and wipe the tears away with your arm.

"Come on, I've got some making up to do" you say, leading him to the bedroom. Your phone begins to vibrate in your pocket - an incoming call. You reach in and hold down the off button, you'll deal with that later.

He stops you before you make it to the bedroom and pushes you hastily against the wall, unable to wait much longer. His hands feel their way down your body until he reaches the hem of your skirt and pushes it up to your stomach, revealing your lacey panties. Your breath hitches as he pushes himself against you, the feel of his hard cock against your exposed panties makes you forget everything else for a moment.

"I love you so fucking much" he says against your lips, biting gently on your bottom one while his hands run up and down your body. You reach down to unbutton his jeans, it's all very rushed and desperate, you need to feel each other, feel the love you have for each other. You need to show him, a painful desire that burns in your chest to show him that you love him.

So you push him backwards towards the bedroom door, your hands still working his jeans as your lips lock, never pulling apart.

Shoving him slightly too hard back onto your super-king bed in the middle of the room, you waste no time straddling him. He reaches up to unbutton your shirt, thrusting into you as he does so, the need so bad it hurt. You stopped his fingers fiddling with your button midway down your torso so you could pull off his jeans and boxers, while he props himself up on the bed with his elbows. Watching intently as you take control.

You kneel between his thighs, smoothing your hands down those thick muscles. Waiting for him to position himself at the end of the bed, making sure he has a good view before you run your pierced tongue up the shaft, all the way to the tip. Teasing him, knowing full well how it makes him feel. The ways his head falls back, his mouth hung open and the sounds falling from his lips, stir something deep inside you. It makes you feel hot to know you're turning him on this much.

Circling your pointy tongue around the tip, a sultry stare straight into his eyes makes him groan. You take his tip into your mouth, swallowing the drop of precum, licking your lips for him. Sucking on his cock, feeling it throbbing in your mouth, growing impossibly harder.

You can tell he can't handle it anymore when he pulls you onto him so you're sitting on his cock, your walls stretching around him making you both suck in air at the sensitivity. He leans back up to finish unbuttoning your shirt while thrusting his big cock, deep within you. Finally getting your shirt off, he grips his fingers into your ass cheeks, squeezing them as he sits up. Bouncing up and down on his dick, while you stare into each others eyes, the intimacy overwhelming you. Lost in the moment for a precious amount of time, feeling the sensation of your loves cock filling you up beyond limits.

You pull his shirt over his head, revealing his beautifully, tanned body. Holding on tightly to you while he pushes himself up the bed so he can lean his back against the headboard. Watching your tits move as you bounce on his cock, thrusting into you with his jaw clenched. You know that look, the way he's desperately trying not to come too quickly.

Both of your breathes are getting faster as you bounce harder, the gripping sensation rises through you.

"I love you" you say between breaths, leaning down to say it into his ear.

"Fuck - " he groans, pulling out of you quickly before he come, your rising orgasm fading away.

" - fuck Sorry, babe. That was too fucking much" He rolls you over underneath him and quickly positions himself back at your entrance, easing in painfully slowly.

Now thrusting into you at an unforgivable pace, making you gasp everytime he slammed into you. Pushing your knees back towards your face and settling himself between them, holding your head with both hands and gazing into your eyes. He's ready, you're ready, you can feel it rising as he rolls his hips into you. The look of love in his eyes making you feel emotional, he's panting and you're moaning as he lets go and pumps into you making you lose it and scream out as you gush everywhere. Holding onto the sheets, tightly, as you wait for your toes to uncurl, still inside of you he lays on your stomach trying to catch his breath. Your muscles cramp up and shake making you wince as you try to move out from underneath him

"Are you ok?" His head snaps up, concerned.

"Yeah, just cramp" you whine, stretching out your legs when he rolls to your side.

"I really do love you" you say moving into his arms.

"I know you do. I love you too" he says kissing the top of your head. You're brought back to reality when you hear your phone vibrating again on the floor, in the pocket of your shirt.

"You're popular tonight" he says noticing the sound of your phone as it vibrates the floorboards.

"It's just work, it can wait until tomorrow" you say, content being in his arms for a little longer and forgetting that anything or anyone else exists. Even if it is only for a moment.

#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you #smut #angst #chris hemsworth fanfic

92 notes · View notes

goldenmaybank · 4 years

Text

no strings ~ scout’s writing challenge

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: jj and y/n have had a no strings attached agreement for years, but that statement couldn’t be farther from the truth.

warnings: swearing, cheating, implied sex, and slight fluff

word count: 2.2k

this is my entry for @ptersparkers writing challenge! hope you all enjoy :)

no strings attached. that was the agreement we made back in freshman year. it's now junior year and that agreement still stands. no feelings involved, just pure fun, but how do you not fall for his big blue eyes and bright smile. it was only meant to be for one night, but one night soon turned into two then three and now i've lost count how many nights we've spent together. almost every night for this past year he’s slept in my bed under my silk sheets with our bodies intertwined with one another. i constantly convince myself it's nothing more than having fun but every time i hear his name i get butterflies and whenever he's near me my heart starts to beat a million times faster. i try to convince myself it's not love, but after being with someone in that way for three years it's impossible for it not to turn into that. but clearly it's possible for him at least. that's why i don't say anything and continue to hide my true feelings because i know he doesn't feel the same way as me and probably never will. i stay up every night with him on my mind and thoughts of what we could be consumes my every thought.

freshman year was the hardest of them all mainly because jj had a girlfriend at the time. i know what i did was wrong but the taste of his lips and the way he touched me that first night was so captivating. i knew from that moment i would never be able to let him go. i tried not to get sucked into him and his player ways, but soon the second night happened and from then it was history. we would meet every thursday night at my place at midnight. he was never late and it made me wonder if he craved my touch as bad as i craved his. we would walk past each other in the streets like we barely knew each other when in reality he knew every curve and mark on my body.

sophomore year was easier than the last since he no longer was with his girlfriend, but also harder because that's when i started catching feelings for him. now since he was single, we could actually be seen together, but still had to be cautious since i was a kook. i never understood the rivalry between the kooks and pogues, but i knew if any of the kooks found out i was with jj all hell would break loose. me and sarah were known as the kook princesses, and since she was dating topper, everyone expected me to date a kook too. before i met jj, i went on a few dates with rafe since thats who my parents wanted me to be with, but after realizing all kook guys are self absorbed assholes, i knew i could never be with any of them. the only kook i can tolerate is sarah, and at times she can even be blinded by the things topper tells her. a couple months into freshman year, i already started to get suffocated at the kook academy and went to the beach to escape, which is where i met kie. the moment i met her we instantly clicked and she invited me to the kegger that they were having that night. thats when i met the rest of the pogues, including jj. we spent the whole night attached at the hip drinking and laughing together. soon enough the guest room at the cheateu was filled with nothing but the sound of our moans. that was the first of many nights we spent there together.

almost every single day i would meet jj by the beach to spend time with him. whether we were surfing, hanging out on the hms pogue with the others, or eating at the wreck, i just loved being around him. although we weren't together people acted like we were. kie would always say we were unofficially official. soon enough our every thursday night meet-ups became every thursday and friday meet-ups and eventually every night meet-ups. we spent every night together at my place until my parents found out and we needed a new place, so we started hanging out at the chateau.

junior year has been the best one so far. jj and i hung out more in public not caring what anyone else would think and gone on what he calls "non-dates" even though it's exactly what dates are. he's met my younger sister and she absolutely adores him, which now makes me wish we never got our families involved in this since i know he doesn't reciprocate my feelings. i've spent so much time with him that i feel almost empty not being in his arms at night. he knows everything about me and i know everything about him. we've shared all of our secrets and deepest thoughts with each other. i've seen his vulnerable side so much that it's almost impossible for me not to fall in love with him. he's opened up to me and let me in more than anyone else in his life even his best friends. every night is something new with him and i never want it to stop even though i know inevitably it will.

"you remember the second night you stayed at my place and you got scared of my dog" i said laughing as we laid next to each other on my bed talking about our favorite memories together.

"look in my defense, your dog is huge and she woke me up out of my sleep." jj said chuckling slightly.

"she was just being friendly and you wouldn't stop screaming. almost woke up my damn parents."

"don't act like you haven't almost woken up john b before with your clumsy ass. you almost knocked over his whole desk trying to get into the room."

"i'm sorry i'm not an expert at climbing through windows like you."

"well when you've had a lot of practice you know how to." he said cockily.

"oh shut up." he laughed as i tiredly punched his arm, "you know damn well i was the first window you came through." i said sassily.

"you're right. you were."

"wait really? so jj maybank has never snuck into another girl's house before? i'm surprised."

"why?" he asked as he turns his body towards me and moves me so i face him.

"i don't know i guess with your reputation i thought you would've been with a bunch of girls before me."

"you wanna know the truth? you're the first girl i've ever slept with."

"wait what?" i sat up against the headboard looking at him confusingly, "what about your ex or all those tourons you would flirt with?"

"all we would do is flirt and make out a little, but it never went any further. either i was always drunk or they were and i never wanted that to be my first time, you know? and with my ex we were only fourteen and dated for a few months. i told you before i never really felt anything for her. it was all just so i could know what it felt like to be a boyfriend.”

“but we were only fourteen, when we..”

“i know, but it was different with you. you are different.”

"so, that means you were a virgin when we first-"

"yup." he said admittedly.

"wow. well i couldn't tell." i joked.

jj looked at me and chuckled slightly, but i could tell something was off with him. his eyes didn't have the same brightness as usual.

"what's wrong?"

"what do you mean? nothings wrong."

"jj, you can't lie to me. i've known you for way too long and i know when somethings wrong, so what's up."

"i don't know. i-" he sighs deeply as he looks at up at me, "it's just- is that what you think of me? that i'm just some player who fucks any girl that throws herself at me."

"what? no. of course not. i just assumed-"

"because that's not who i ever wanted to be." he said cutting me off, "i never wanted to be like- like my dad, you know?” he says as he looks down at his hands, fiddling with them, “as much as he claims he loved her, he treated my mom like shit. he would get drunk and mess around with a bunch of women because he could never commit. i never wanted to be like that. i never wanted to make a girl feel the way my mom felt. she was so heartbroken when he would come back home smelling of perfume and lie to her face. eventually, she had enough of it and just got up and left. kinda wish she took me with her. but i told myself i would never be like that and then i realized i was. back in freshman year when i cheated on my ex-"

"with me" i looked at him sympathetically understanding why what i said bothered him so much, "look, j you're nothing like your dad. i know i've never met him but from what you told me about him you two are completely different people. you’re nothing like that cheating, abusive asshole, okay? you're such a sweet, kindhearted person who always puts others before yourself, especially when it comes to your friends. i've never seen someone care so much about others than you. you have such a pure, kind soul and nothing will ever change that. i know you cheated on her with me and it probably wasn't the right choice, but it sure as hell wasn't a mistake and i won't call it that. being with you was never a mistake for me and i hope you feel the same about it but this" i say as i motion between us, "will never be something that i regret. i know i've said this before but i believe that this was meant to be and we were meant to find each other. the circumstance might not have been the best, but i found you and that's all that matters. you're nothing like him and never will be."

we both laid in silence looking up at the ceiling while raindrops hit the window softly. i started to wonder if maybe i said something wrong or said too much. i feel so deeply for him and whenever he tries to put himself down it breaks my heart. in my eyes he's the perfect guy despite all his faults. sometimes i think one day i'll tell him how i feel and scare him off which is the last thing i want to do. i want to be able to have these moments with him for as long as i can.

"you know, i want to get married before i have kids." jj said breaking the silence.

"that's random, but alright." i said giggling.

"i was just thinking about my parents and they had me before they even thought of marriage. i think that's where they could've went wrong. maybe if they would've taken the time to actually bound their love together before having a kid, they could've lasted longer. after they had me he could never commit fully because of all the responsibility, so maybe if they already took that step to "finalize" their love he would've stayed." he said shrugging.

"well i always wanted to have kids before i get married because i want my kids to be apart of my wedding."

"i guess we could just have two weddings then."

"huh?" i said confusingly finally looking at him.

he looks back at me and sighs, "yeah, i mean since you want one before and i want one after, we can just have two. we have the real one before and then we can renew our vows and have a second wedding with our kids so they can experience it with us."

"so, we're gonna get married and have kids?" i said smirking at him.

"i-i mean i guess. obviously only if you want to." jj said blushing as he started to look anywhere but at me.

i grab his face so he's looking at me, "i would love to, jj."

we both smile at each other as he pulls me closer to him connecting our lips. when we pull apart, i cuddle up into his chest as we continue to lie in silence. i feel my heart flutter as i feel his hands rub my back soothing me. being in his arms felt like home and i only hope he feels the same. as i start to think about how it would be if we were actually dating, the same words he would always say when we started this repeat in my mind "this is only for fun. no strings attached. no feelings. just pure fun." maybe that's all this will truly ever be, just fun, and that's the thought i have before falling asleep in his arms.

when i know she's asleep, i just stay awake and admire how she looks in the moment. even sleeping she has a slight smile on her face, which makes me wonder what she's dreaming about. sometimes i wish it was me she's dreaming about even though i know it's not. "just for fun" i remind myself of the words i said but that couldn't have been more of a lie, especially now more than ever. of course what we had was fun, but it was way more than that.

"i love you" i say as i kiss her forehead and wrap my arms tighter around her soon falling asleep as well.

259 notes · View notes

marieschlz · 3 years

Text

I told you, I'm not the good guy - A Dramione fanfiction

[ mention of violence ]

I was warned, at no time did he lie about his intentions.

He told me exactly what he would do and how he would do it.

And here was the proof.

Bodies... So many bloodied bodies with torn limbs side by side. The trail of tears on distorted faces. Soldiers, civilians, children, men and women, all the same, lying with opaque and lifeless eyes.

I can't help but think they're dead because of me.

I look at my bloodied hands, dirt and juice darken my nails. I tried to scream but my voice didn't come out, there were no more tears, I can't even remember how to cry properly.

Should I be feeling remorse? Fault?

It was so delicious.

I loved every second.

A weak giggle caught my attention, I slowly turn to face him. The crackling aura of ancient power swirled around him. He stood there, all the while, his eyes gleaming, enjoying himself as the blood of my people pooled on his feet. His blue eyes, so beautiful blue eyes, sparkled with sick desire.

Hungry.

For more deaths or my reaction, I couldn't know.

The wind that hit me hard was as cold as the blood rushing through my veins.

Malfoy was the man everyone warned me about. He was mad, his thirst for destruction known in every corner of the five kingdoms.

They thought I could cure him, help him somehow. There were spells, potions, I should have figured it out.

Apparently, the only sick person here is me.

— Pretty little thing— he called me. — I bet you're excited. That was fantastic.

He started to move toward me and I tried to process it all as my emotions fluttered between regret, orgasmic joy, guilt and remorse bubbling in my chest.

— I hate you.

— Such passion - He laughs again. He looks so calm, so genuinely satisfied. He looks at me with eyes softer than I ever expected them to be.

I look away.

— What are you going to blame me for? For getting rid of the cloud of lies you've been told? For waking you up and for showing you how wonderful the taste of human suffering is?

— How can I undo this? How can I save them, Draco?— I begged as he towered over me.

The laugh that followed seemed to echo for infinite minutes.

He bent down to look me in the eye. The glowing orbs that I thought long ago reflected the goodness he hid within him only reflected the latent hunger I saw in my own eyes.

As crazy as himself.

He looks a lot more beautiful to me now.

He looks pristine. Flawless, especially standing here amidst the dirt and destruction, surrounded by the saddest colours this landscape we've created has to offer. He is emerald and onyx and castles painted gold, his silhouette deceptively formed in the sunlight.

He could be glowing. That could be a halo around his head. This could be the world's way of setting an example based on irony. Because Draco Malfoy is beautiful in a way that no one else is.

Because Draco is not human.

Nothing about him is.

Not even me.

— Undo?! Ah, my dear Hermione. You can't get rid of who you are.

He soon lowered himself to my level before reaching out and touching my face, almost tenderly.

— I liked it, Draco. It felt so good— I mutter in agony.

He smiled at me happily. As if I had said something about piles of gold buried under our feet. His eyes are half-closed from the smile and his cheeks are pink from the cold.

He is a strange boy, strange and perverse.

Something inside my heart is ripping and it feels like fear, it hurts like genuine dread. I don't want to see him like this. I don't want to think of him as anything but a monster.

A monster like me.

— I am here. You don't have to fight yourself anymore — his voice is suddenly much closer than before.

I take a step back.

I feel his hands on my arms, I feel his skin against my skin, and I'm holding my breath. I don't dare move an inch. I don't say a word as his hands drop to my waist, to the thin, stained and torn dress. His fingers brush the soft skin of my lower back where the dress has been pulled and the seams have come loose.

I'm struggling to get oxygen to my lungs.

Then I feel his lips against my shoulder, delicate and flaming and tender, so gentle I could almost believe it's the wind and not this evil, broken creature.

Again.

Please, again, again and again.

Softer.

His chest heaving hard this time. His words were almost breathless this time.

— You destroy me.

I'm falling into pieces.

His lips are softer than anything I've ever known, soft as flesh, like sucking drop by drop of a little boy's blood, like melting and floating and weightless in water. It's evil, vile without making an effort.

And then it changes.

— O my God...

He kisses me again, harder, more desperate as if he needs to have me as if he's dying to memorise the touch of my lips against his. The taste drives me crazy; he's all heat and blood.

Mouths mingle and along with his taste also brings doom. It's like the plague. It kills, destroys, dries seas, murders firstborns and razes nations. He is breathing as if he has lost his mind and looking at me as if something is broken inside him, as if he has woken up and discovered that his nightmares were just nightmares, that they never existed, as if I can fix whatever is not working right inside us.

I'm crumbling and falling inside his heart and I'm destroying everything I find along the way.

— oh, my little witch. We will do fantastic things together.

#dramione #draco x hermione #harry potter #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #fanfic #fiction #oneshot #idk why #forgive me #my fic writing #hope you guys enjoy

12 notes · View notes

red-the-dragon-writes · 3 years

Text

Today's post is not on the usual "writer blog fare" side. Instead I am going to introduce you to several fun facts about various animals on our planet and then talk about worldbuilding.

1. Lampreys are a kind of "living fossil"- a not-really-so-scientific term for a creature that has lived unchanged for a very long time, so long that we have fossils of them looking the same way they do now. They don't have proper jaws, just a circular sucking mouth with teeth set into it and a tongue designed to strip flesh off of what it touches. They're finless fish, look quite a bit like eels, and have this really alien, uncanny vibe to them.

[id: a long, slender bluish-silver lamprey sitting among rocks. It has a long snout, an eye, and then six small perforations in its side arranged at an even interval sitting behind the eye. The environment it is sitting in is very yellow and green in comparison. end id]

[id: an image of a lamprey from below. The snout ends in a round, flat mouth which is studded with teeth in four concentric circles. The teeth are smallest near the outer edge and largest in the middle, and look like very sharp round points. In the center of this ring is another, smaller circle, where the pointed, tooth-like tongue can be seen, as well as a hole for the lamprey to actually ingest food with. Its eye is visible, as are some of the perforations on its side. This one is a more mottled gray than the first one was, and less shiny. end id]

Sea lampreys, which are the kind i've sort of not really kinda researched, are a major pest in the Great Lakes, where they regularly attack fish. They can get up to two feet in length. Despite this, they are not particularly dangerous towards humans.

2. Horseshoe crabs are also "living fossils." They've been around and virtually unchanged for millions of years. They're not true crabs, and are more closely related to chelicerata species, like spiders and scorpions (and many more). There are a lot of cool features of horseshoe crabs, but one of their most extremely cool, to me, is their blood.

I'm not going to post any images of what I consider to be animal cruelty, so you'll have to take me at my word here, but this is a bottle of horseshoe crab blood. If you're sensitive to images of animal cruelty, I don't recommend looking for proof, but if you aren't, there are plenty of images of the blood coming out of the creature for you to verify this with.

E[id: a bottle of slightly frothy, opaque blue liquid. It is sitting in a row with several other bottles of the same material. end id]

I am a sucker for blue blood, I just think it's neat, so that's all I'd need as an excuse to slam some horseshoe-crab-inspired nonsense in my exceptionally gory and fucked up wips, and if you've been reading along with WiB you may have noticed that blue blood does come into play at some point! But that's not all that's neat about horseshoe crab blood. Unfortunately for the horseshoe crabs, but fortunately for us, their blood is literally the only source of an important compound used for detecting the presence of dangerous bacteria in certain pharmaceutical drugs. (Fortunately, there are replacements that will hopefully become more popular in coming years.)

Now that we've gone over all that, onto the worldbuilding!

I worldbuild by Rule of Cool. Let's just get that out of the way. Every so often people will ask me how my worlds get so expansive (not WiB, WiB i made up on the fly by cribbing from fanfic and like... BBC Merlin. Assume very little of this holds true for WiB) and the answer is largely that I take every interest I have ever had in anything and smash it all together and throw it at my wip to see what sticks. and then I just... like... reasonably attempt to figure out what the natural conclusions will be.

So: we have lampreys. We have blue-blooded ancient sea creatures with spectacularly important and valueable blood. We are writing this into a story that takes place on land, somehow.

- The first option, and the one I'm going to talk about most because I did it, is just to rule-of-cool it into a character. (Or a place, or an item, or whatever, but largely I do rule-of-cool on living creatures and think harder about the world around them.) If you've been keeping up with WiB, you may have noticed that (spoilers) Zero Point is some kind of fucked up magician with a lamprey mouth in their hand who shapeshifts and bleeds blue. This is where I got those inspirations from (along with, like, some other stuff. I promise there are no lamprey assassins, but- continuing in the trend of stealing from sea creatures- the bobbin worm is a spectacularly beautiful, spectacularly deadly creature if you're within its weight range. which is like, goldfish size, but. And cuttlefish are known to disguise themselves as other animals, and can change sexes if the male:female ratio where they are isn't ideal.)

So you can take the elements you like, and just kind of slam them together haphazardly, which is what I did with Zero Point. The trick to this kind of worldbuilding is just to avoid looking too closely at it. The magical assassin has a fucked up mouth in their hand? Yeah, okay, that seems kind of fucked up and creepy. What do they do at all times? They hide it under a glove. So the protags Just Straight Up Never Ask. And voila; it never gets explained, and it never has to.

Same with the blue blood. It shows up, it functions as a plot device because only Zero Point has blue blood; it is never explained or even delved into with much detail. And if it were, it would fall apart instantly, because the justification is literally just "i thought it was neat. No, no one else is like that. I don't even know why they are. i just felt like it"

- The second option is to consider the effects of the things that you're working with, and then work off of that.

Let's take Zero Point again. Strip them of their context (weird assassin with magical powers) and just like, consider the fact that this is a creature with blood that regularly retails for over $10,000 USD, is intelligent as fuck, shapeshifts, has a mouth in their hand that may or may not be their actual mouth, and can exist on land so long as they have suitable access to water. What does that mean for our setting? Surely they're not the only person like that; so you have a whole species of people who are sort of but not really amphibious, shapeshift, and maybe have magical powers, who knows. They can't shapeshift their fucked up lamprey mouths, maybe. That seems like a reasonable limit. So their blood is highly valuable- what does that mean for their relations with other people, or their culture? What kind of foods do they eat? How do they create a sense of culture as shapeshifters; is there even a way that they represent themselves in art? How do they interact with the world? Do they have a "true form" or not? Every one of these questions will spawn new questions. If you answer all of them you'll lose your mind, but if you answer at least ten you'll spawn a much more background-heavy world that can help to shape your story much more effectively than trying to just craft a narrative will. Sometimes it works very well for a story. Sometimes it gets you lost in the weeds.

- The third option is to reference something else, and build off that. Again, let's use Zero Point as the example.

In the original story that the WiB ensemble is from, Closerverse, which may have some mentions on this blog but honestly I have no idea, there is a city that I've done quite a bit of worldbuilding on. This city is called Hudson, and one of the major important features of it is that it is partially underground. (This is a reference to the DFZ of Rachel Aaron's Heartstrikers series). Hudson is intentionally run to be the worst, most unpleasant city in the world, and one of its features are its wildly intelligent, dangerous forms of aquatic life. The lowest level of this city is partially submerged, and all of these creatures plague the people who live down there.

Closerverse was also set during a period of early industrialization, and Hudson heavily referenced US history, especially 1900s-1920s labor history. Tenements, pollution, zero protections for workers, et cetera. Hudson is a nasty, miserable place, and everyone who lives there can feel the jaws closing in on them.

Anyway, in Closerverse you got these fucked up massive eel-like creatures (lampreys, but with extra features) that due to some rather significant meddling wound up growing legs and then got really massive and started eating people. They have blue blood, glow in the dark, and make fairly decent eating as long as they aren't eating you. And they're intelligent. Given the whole "mutual eating each other" thing, the eels and the people of Hudson have some pretty major animosity going on.

Most of Zero Point's stuff is really just me referencing the Hudson Eels, because I fucking love those. They're some of my favorite worldbuilding elements ever. But given that no one else in WiB has ever seen a Hudson Eel, let alone seen their blood get dry on things, or whatever, everything about Zero Point is wildly out of context. And that almost makes it better, because the whole deal with them is that they're mysterious and weird, and having them be a mysterious and weird reference to something no one but I know about most likely is like, fun and neat.

There are, of course, other modes of worldbuilding as well, but I typically aim to stick to the first two as much as possible. The cooler you make something, the more possible questions it raises; the more questions something raises, the deeper your world gets.

Although, a word of advice: sometimes animals just do things. Sometimes bodies just have features. Who would invent fingernails? But having them is mighty convenient, isn't it? For that matter, who would come up with a deeply logical and reasoned explanation for eyebrows- but not having those would be very strange, to us. You can get away with doing a lot by just having that be how it is, and not having the characters comment on it.

Also, the more "shaped" a thing should be, the more you'll want to take the second approach. For house design, something intentionally built, you'll want to know why it was built, and what purpose is this and that room, and why is it painted such and such colors. But if you're talking about adding a second moon, like... fuck dude, who needs to know why there's a second moon? Maybe if you have sailors you have to know what it'll do to your oceans, but that's the kind of thing you can kind of just say exists and move on. You'll figure it out; it gets pretty intuitive.

Anyway, happy worldbuilding!

#writing advice #long post #worldbuilding

7 notes · View notes

shawnpetermuffins · 5 years

Text

She's gone. (Part 2 of Were You Going to Tell Me?)

A/n: here is part 2, it went in a slightly different direction than I originally intended, but I think I like it.

Summary: Shawn isn't coping well with y/n being gone. (Told in both POVs)

Word count: still a lot

Warning: angst with a fluff ending oops

***

She left and I'm well beyond sad. I feel empty. If there's a way to feel something worse than that, then that's what I feel. It's like my heart has been ripped from my chest and it's infinitely harder to breathe through that aching pain.

I stayed in bed, crying like a baby, clutching her pillow like it was her. Morning came and my throat was raw from screaming into the sheets while hiccupped sobs wracked my body. I didn't bother to answer my phone that hasn't stopped ringing since seven. I couldn't even get out of bed to brush my teeth. Amy little thing that I did felt impossible. How could I go on living without her? She made everything in my life worth living. It was fun and organized with her in it, and I took her for granted. I made her move across the continent just to be with me and I couldn't even spare her a passing glance, a quick kiss before leaving for the studio.

I'm the worst boyfriend ever. How she put up with me for seven years is beyond me. I would have dropped my ass the first time I forgot our anniversary. And her birthday! God I forgot her birthday! But she didn't break up with me and I did it again. I'm the worst. The absolute worst.

“Shawn, are you in here?”

I now regret giving Andrew a spare key to my place. I stifled my sobs into her pillow, it smelled like her, this was torture. He barged into our room - fuck, I didn't even know if it was still our room.

“Shawn, what the hell? You were supposed to be in the studio two hours - wait, what's going on? Why aren't you dressed?"

“She's gone, Andrew. I lost her.” I choked on the words and buried my head further into her side of the bed.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/n left.” The cried that escaped my throat were embarrassing and loud.

“Like she left? Why on earth would she leave?”

“Because I suck. I'm a horrible boyfriend. I was more focused on the album than I was spending time with her.” I sniffled, “I royally fucked up; I don't even know what to do. I can't go on without her.”

Andrew sighed, “Shawn, I know it feels like the end of the world right now, but-”

“I'm not going in, Andrew! I might have just lost my girlfriend of seven years, the love of my life, the reason for my existence! Fuck the studio! I don't have my girl here, so I can't make music!”

“You're being unreasonable.” He started typing on his phone. “Get up. Get dressed. You have to be there. People are waiting.”

“Well then tell them to stop waiting because I'm not going.”

“How long are you gonna do this?” He punched the bridge of his nose.

“Until she's back in my arms.”

☆

Ten minutes later, after Andrew had finally left and stopped yelling at me, my door opened again. I really need to stop giving my friends a key. “Shawny boy, are you here?”

I didn't answer. They'd find me eventually.

“What are doing here?” Brian came into the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

“She left.”

“Not for good. She couldn't.”

“She told me she wasn't happy anymore. That I wasn't making her happy.”

“You've been busy,” he sympathized, “she'll cool down.”

“She's in y/h/t, Brian. It's not like she's just roaming around the city and she'll come back when she gets bored.”

“Shawn, y/n loves you. The entire world knows that. Just like they know you love her. She'll come back.”

“And what if she doesn't?”

He didn't answer because he knew there was a chance she wouldn't.

“I've fucked everything up. I don't know what to do.”

“What's your heart telling you to do?”

I sighed and sat up, pulling my knees to my chest. “My heart is telling me that I should have proposed to her a long time ago.”

“What?”

I got out of bed and walked on foreign legs to our closet. I had hidden a velvet box in a pair of my shoes on the top shelf. Where I knew she couldn't reach. I tossed it at him and he fumbled to catch it. “I bought it for her right after she moved in. But I was scared that she'd think it was too much at one time if I asked her then. But then everything else started piling up and I couldn't find an opening, and then I guess I just forgot.”

“Does she know you were planning on proposing? Because if she did, I don't think she would have run away.”

“Well we've talked about it. But I guess within the past year, we haven't done much talking. It seems like we're always in a screaming match.”

“You need to do this,” he stood from the bed, closing the box in his hand before tossing it back to me. “Get on a plane and go find her.”

“She doesn't want to see me.”

“Shawn, I'm scared that if you don't go to her now she really isn't coming back. Because you're right, you've fucked up. A lot. I don't know how many times I've comforted her after you guys fight.”

“Wait, what?”

Brian sighed, “She's come to me a few times.”

“Why didn't I know that?”

“Because you haven't been paying attention. But you're paying attention now, so go. Get your girl back before it's too late.”

“I will, but we need to talk about the fact that you knew how she was feeling and you didn't tell me.”

“They weren't my feelings to share! She trusts me, and I can't break that trust. She's a hard person to get in good with and I don't want go be on her bad side. Because from what you look like right now, it's not looking too hot.”

I scoffed and started packing some clothes. I didn't know how long I would be gone, so I just threw some shit in a bag and booked my ticket. “She's my girlfriend, He is . And you're my best friend, don't you think you have some sort of obligation to tell me when my girlfriend things we don't work?"

“Don't you think you have an obligation as her boyfriend to make sure she's happy? Look, I love you to death, man, but you've been pulling away from her for so long I'm surprised she's stayed as long as she has.”

“You're a dick.”

“No, Shawn.” he shook his head. “I'm just telling you the truth. And I'm not the only one who's noticed. The guys see it too. The band. Everyone except you.”

“And no one's told me a goddamn thing,” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Because we knew you'd react this way. But let me tell you this: that girl has loved you despite all the hell you've put her through. She moved here away from all she's ever known for you, and you're rarely ever here. She put her dreams on hold so you could continue following yours. Do you think she likes what she does? No, but she does it because that's what keeps her close to you. You've taken her for granted and she doesn't deserve that.”

I sighed, “You're right,” I said defeated. “She doesn't, and I know that after everything I've done I don't deserve her. I know. But I love her more than anything.”

“Don't tell me that. Tell her.”

☆

My palms were sweaty as I stood in front of her childhood home. Her dad's truck was in the driveway, y/n's wasn't. I knocked on the door and waited. Her dad stood before me. “Can we talk?” I asked, my hands in my pockets.

He nodded and motioned for me to come inside. “Sit down,” he pointed to the couch nearest to the kitchen. He sat opposite of me.

I took in a deep breath and rubbed my palms on my jeans. “Has she said anything to you?”

He shook his head, “Not to me. Her sister, probably.”

I cleared my throat, “Well, I'm going to apologize anyway. Things haven't been going great for us for quite some time now and that's completely on me. I've taken her for granted and that was never my intention. I love her and I never meant to hurt her, you need to know that.”

“I do, Shawn.”

“I'm in love with her, sir. I have been for seven years, and I will be for the rest of my life. I hadn't known pure heartache until she left the other day. I couldn't even get out of bed, and none of this is your problem, but I just want you to know that I love her and I never want to see her hurt like this again. I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to her. So… May I have your blessing to ask her go marry me?”

He was silent for a while and then he chuckled. “I'll give you my blessing, Shawn. You've taken good care of her, whether you think you have or not. But ultimately the decision is hers.”

“Yes, sir.” I nodded. “Thank you,” I stood and shook his hand; he brought me into a hug.

“You take good care of her, okay?”

“Of course.”

The waiting was torture. I stood in the middle of her old bedroom with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and the ring in the other, behind my back. She stopped short when she saw me. “Glad you're back,” I said.

“Shawn. What are you - What are you doing here?”

“I came to apologize. And to completely beg you to come home with me.”

***

I thought I was imagining things when I saw that beautiful head of hair. But then he spoke in the voice of my dreams and I startled slightly. I rubbed my forehead, “I said I needed time.”

“I know, pumpkin, I know. But if you could just hear me out.” He set the flowers he was holding on my old desk. “No yelling, I promise.” He reached his hands out for me. “Do you trust me?”

I sighed. Of course I did. So I placed my hands in his and he led me outside. We stood in the middle of the circle drive. “Seven years ago,” he started, “I was standing right here when you came running up to me and you wrapped your entire body around me. You were wearing mg pink Lost in Japan hoodie, with yoga shorts, no makeup, and your hair in a messy bun. I swore to myself that day that I had never seen anyone or anything look as beautiful as you did in that moment.”

“Shawn,” I tried to pull my hands back, but he brought them to his chest, near his heart.

“I'm not done,” he sighed. “I’d been in love with you for months already, by that point, but that day did it for me. That's when I really knew that you were the girl I was gonna spend my life with. I've never not believed that.” He let go of my hands and reached into his back pocket, then he took my left hand again.

Oh no.

“Y/n, my beautiful cherry blossom, my pumpkin, my love. I am so tremendously sorry. I know I've fucked up immensely these last few years, and if I could go back in time, I would. I would love you harder. I would kiss you more. I would take you on more dates because I love you. I have since the day I met you and I will until the day I die.” He got down on one knee and the tears blurred my vision.

“Shawn, no. No, no, no. Get up, bubba.” my hand flew to my mouth, this isn't how I thought it would go down. After a big fight.

“I can't take back what I've done, but I can try to make it up to you every day for the rest of my life if you'll let me.” He took in a deep breath, “Y/f/n, will you let me spend the rest of my life loving you unconditionally? Will you marry me?” He popped open the velvet box and even through my clouded eyes, I could see how big the ring was. But that's not what this was about. This was about the man in front of me, who I've spent nearly a decade of my life with. He was here in my hometown, begging for forgiveness, asking me to marry him. And it killed me that even though he'd been the worst the last two years, I still wanted him.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice shaking. “Will you marry me?” He asked again.

I took in a deep breath. He needed an answer. I closed my eyes tight and let the last few years fall before I said, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

I nodded and laughed through the tears that were now resurfacing. “You said yes. Oh my god!” He picked me up and twirled me around again and again. Once back on the ground, he put the ring on my finger with his shaking hand. “I was scared you'd say no because I messed up too much.”

I pulled him down and rested my forehead against his. “You have the rest of your life to make it up to me.” I played with the tufts of hair on the back of his neck. “I love you.”

He smiled and then he kissed me. And this kiss, it was enough to keep me grounded forever. I knew in this second that I would never regret my choice to marry him.

***

That's it, guys! I hope you enjoyed it!

@ashwarren32 @youcanttakemyyouth

@darkwolfpeanutskeleton

#shawn peter raul #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes one shot

356 notes · View notes

pinkpaganofficial-blog · 6 years

Text

Content and trigger warnings for:

- eating disorder[s] (eds), i.e anorexia, bulimia

- me talking about my suicidal thoughts and venting (I'm ok i just need to like... "word vomit" i guess)

- abandonment by friends

- feeling repression

~~~\\

So i doubt most people on here who follow me know that I suffer from mental illness but I do and have for a very long time. All of the symptoms and effects really came out after my grandfather/best friend passed away when I was 11, 12 years ago. I fell into a hole of depression, anxiety, and disordered eating. From the time I was 11 until I was around 14 I had a very hard time with food. I was suffering from bulimia and I would do the routine binges and purges I had set for myself through the day. I'm surprised my teeth survived all of the stomich acid assaults on them honestly.

I was lonely. I felt so fucking alone in the world. I didn't have many friends. The friends I had were pretty fairweather at the time, as we were kids. They'd hop to the coolest person in their opinions on sight and leave me in the dust, and then come back when they were done, or something happened, whatever. It wasn't stable, and I was always afraid of just being deserted again. My friend who stuck with me, my grandfather, was gone. My grandmother was so in shambles that she doesnt even remember the year after he died at all. My mother is chronically ill, and even though she is and will always be there for me as long as is possible I just couldn't tell her how bad I was feeling. Maybe it was guilt because she has problems that I felt far outweighed mine (haha oh god there's the tears that actually stings).

And my dad is... well.. a dad. Sometimes dads just don't understand things like mental illness, or being an unwell person. My dad loves me. I know that, and I love him a lot too. But he can't understand how these things affect me as he's basically neurotypical in every way. He tries. But I can't find empathy there, and a lot of the time there's misunderstanding when we talk about mental illness. So I didn't tell him anything then either.

I would stay in my room a lot, or be out in the woods a lot. I would scratch up my arms with my nails until they would bleed and I would cry. I felt like I didn't care if I died at that time. My parents raised me religiously in the church and I tried very hard to have a relationship with their concept of a god. But I couldn't because to me in was just emptiness. For me, in that sense, there is nothing there. So my loneliness was running even deeper than just the physical. It was spiritual as well. And idk if anyone reading this has experienced spiritual emptiness, or even is a spiritual person, but please believe me when I say it's Hell.

When I was 14 I rode my bicycle out to a bridge near my home out in the back woods type country. The old train bridge kind with the big cement blocks at the bottom of the pillars holding them up. I remember sitting on the very edge of it just looking down at the cement. I really wanted to jump. Honestly the only reason I didn't was because of my mom. She's the reason I stepped back, got on my bicycle and rode home. Albeit I was crying the whole way home, stayed out in the garden to finish crying, washed my face in the creek and went inside and straight upstairs to my bed and I slept until the next day.

When I was around the end of being 14 I tried repression. I started trying eating normally (which has wrecked me internally, I have major digestive problems as I've always refused to go to a rehab centre, which in itself is not good for me). I started pretending to have a relationship with "God". I tried the whole "cool hip Christian kid" spin from when I was that age until 17 or so. I pushed back my depression, my fears and anxieties and eds to see if I could be happy. And I pretended to be happy for a while. And I fooled a lot of people.

Things weren't by any means okay though. My school work was suffering as it always had, but since the work was harder it was also suffering harder. I picked up smoking cigarettes. I also picked up alcohol more and more. I dated a 21 year old and lost my virginity to him at 16, after much coaxing from him. That was an extremely bad 8 months.

My saving grace and my recharge at the time was a Bible camp I'd attend in the summers. I went for 12 years. Now that I think about it.. that camp was my only constant thing for a very long time. It was always there. And even when it wasn't camp time, the place was so close I could just go talk to the live in managers when I had questions. While my relationship with a god I don't believe in was strained and a facade, the people I met are amazing and have helped me a lot.

In fact, at that camp I spilled a lot of my struggles to my group of close friends. We were just a few girls, only 17 or so. But they had all been through things just as bad as me. Some so close it scared me. I felt accepted by those girls who are now beautiful strong women. So I opened the flood gates of what I had been through. All of my dark times and feelings, thoughts of dying and plans to do it, the bulimia and how it hurt my body, my 21 year old ex and what had happened to me, my struggles in school, my guilt towards my mother as her pregnancy with me put her in her wheelchair, my panic attacks and the anxiety that I'd felt for so long, my loneliness and my desperate want to not be alive. Basically just like, ALL of it. I don't really think that was a gate I could've closed even if I tried at that point. It was just a lot.

It took a while to talk about everything, and by the time I'd covered everything even more young folks like us had come over to sit. I was sobbing. My friends weren't very far behind either. Someone was rubbing my back and another person brought me tissues. I finished and everyone was kinda quiet and sad. One of my friends said "Hey can we all just kinda sit together and pray?" and I said that I thought that was a good idea. So we sat. And we just prayed. Even if they were words floating up to an empty space where I see no god, the solidarity that I felt with my friends and those around showing that they cared about me was overwhelming. I wasn't alone. I had friends. REAL friends who weren't looking for the next best thing. And I didn't feel as empty anymore. Knowing that I had people who genuinely cared for me and everything I'd been through and everything I was made me feel so much more worthy of living, it showed me I wasn't nothing.

A lot has happened since those dark times. I've had other dark times. Anorexia claimed me at 18 as a sufferer, and I still struggle with it to this day. I had a physically and emotionally abusive sociopathic partner in the Autumn of my 21st year. I had a whole 2 year ordeal with someone that I'm not even going to talk about, as this person and I have BOTH put it behind us and forgiven each other and are now friends. I alsp dropped out of high school in grade 11.

But I've had a LOT of light times. I started actively loving my body at 21, which was the first new constant in my life. I took action and got a breast reduction from G to C cup for my health at 18. I left the church and started understanding science better. The spiritualist in me called for more, so I delved into research on Paganism and Wicca. What I found was what I needed. It was the second new constant I needed. So now instead of 1, I had 2.

I live with my fiance now. He's someone who I was schoolmates with in highschool. After a few years of not keeping in touch, we hung out. We got close again. And after a few years we started dating. We've had bumpy patches. 1 break up due to his mental illness (again, it rears its ugly head). But that was short lived. And we are actively improving ourselves while being there for one another. Last March I asked him to marry me to which he said "Well, I was gonna ask you when we got our own place, so obviously yes." (I've dated a lot of people, so I am so happy that it was him I'm going to be with, no offense to any of the guys, girls and other folks I've been with and am friends with). He's my third constant.

I have so much more now than I ever dreamed I could in those dark times, friends.

Moral of the story is:

Friends come and go. But you'll find someone, or multiple people who will care about you enough to stick with you as much as you wanna stick with them.

Don't give up on yourself. You're gonna have a lot of bad times. Life happens and we can't do shit about it. But life also has a lot of really good times worth looking forward to and holding close to heart. You can love yourself no matter who you are or what you look like because you're more than a name or a number on a scale. You're a complex person with real feelings who is worthy of self love. And love from others too.

Pain sucks. Life can suck a whole fucking lot. So much you want it to end. But through all the struggle, the hurt and the mental illness, you still very much deserve a good life. If not more, because you're actively trying to enjoy being alive in a very hard time.

So yeah. Thanks for reading this. I just needed to talk. I felt like I was going to explode and my Instagram isn't really the place to put this.

Take care of yourselfs. Cherish yourself and your time here. Make the best of your situations as much as you can. Hold your loved ones close in mind and heart. And don't be afraid to talk.

#anorexia recovery #bulimia recovery #self love #feels #rant #feelings #depression #anorexia #my past #struggle #victory #pinky

11 notes · View notes

lightsorigins · 3 years

Text

An inefficient world

03 Marckabeth 2010

3:42 pm, Mysticiën,

Lausya, Estery High School

Squeezed into an uncomfortable wooden chair, Sarasvatî had her arms folded. She had been staring at Madame Bigot, her biology teacher, for a few minutes. After having finished her tirade on a part of the course, this last one also observed Sara during a few seconds. The setting sun was illuminating her short jet hair and her strong gaze. She was imperturbable, yet everything about her indicated a latent irritation.

- Sarasvatî, do you have something to add?

She sighed at length before answering.

- You send me sorry, but you can't understand anything in a class where you get lost in so many details.

- These details are in Sara's program. If you work harder, you'll understand more.

At the agreement of his words, his gaze caught fire.

- That I work more? Me? In this room, I'm sure that no one understood a word of what you've just explained. You start to talk to us about how Anima and Menha work, and then you digress about your theories about the most powerful elements to bring down the Anima of our opponents, even though we are not even atmologists. It had nothing to do with the beginning of the session, and we haven't even been given a lecture on the primary elements yet!

- Sara...

- Don't expect me to believe that your assumptions about how things work are part of the program. Everyone here knows that you were not a high school teacher last year.

Madame Bigot was a red-headed meïlith with very light blue skin. Her big green eyes opened more and more to Sara's insolence. Discreet and kind, she had indeed shown for some sessions difficulties in giving her course in a sufficiently clear manner. Suddenly, she gave a big blow on her desk with the flat of her hand.

- Enough! You will bring me your notebook at the bell. I cannot accept such behavior in this room. Class representative or good student, I don't care!

- Instead, say that you are unable to accept reality and the criticisms that go against your ineffective methods," Sara replied before taking out her notebook and putting it at the end of the table.

- Pardon? exclaimed the professor.

- Nothing. Nothing that you wouldn't be able to hear.

She was dying to make him swallow her tongue with an atmos. Something that would have made her feel like making a fool of herself in front of all those students, but Laura Bigot would be in big trouble with the Grand Council of Atmology if she did so. However, she could already see herself joining hands, forming a skillful circle and whispering "Totopo lu hodo". A wooden cocoon would then have formed around Sarasvatî, who would have had no choice but to keep quiet. The pupils would then have said to each other "It is not necessary to joke with Mrs. Bigot! ». She would have earned the respect she had hoped for, continued her course and shared her intelligent theories on the functioning of the elements. Yet, instead...

- What's up? Are you going to take this notebook, yes or no? Instead of standing stupidly in front of me staring at me.

- Leave this room immediately Sara. You will have a report that you will remember for a long time. I would have liked to talk with you calmly, but it is obviously not possible.

- Anyway, it's going to ring. I would have liked to avoid this with you, but it seems to me that we have already talked about this problem. I won't be able to get a higher education with your damn theories. You simply have no right to do that. I'll talk to the director about it tomorrow. I'll see you soon.

Madame Bigot kept talking, but Sara had already moved on. Then the bell rang. It was an unpleasant, strident, repetitive sound that she had never enjoyed hearing. She grabbed her black leather jacket and put it over her long sky-blue dress. Grabbing her bag, she walked towards the exit, expressionless. Her step was heavy, fast and sure. She didn't greet anyone and stopped at the door. Once in the hallway, Sara stretched out her arm and let her diamond shûmberr skin handbag dangle nimbly from her fingertips. Staring down at the large alley, a long sigh of impatience escaped from between her lips. Suddenly, a young sygreliad with long blond hair rushed towards her and grabbed her bag.

- Sorry Sara, I hadn't finished writing everything down. Damn, your bag is heavy today, what did you put in it?

- It's the weight of Madame Bigot's bullshit, did you see how it weighs?

Annabelle smiled an embarrassed smile at him. Sara mimicked her expression by mimicking a despicable nonsense before continuing.

- Where's Marvin? Is he going to suck up to miss bullshit, or is he going to show up?

A large wazardin with a tousled coat ran out of the room, jostling Sara and Annabelle as they passed by. He stumbled a few seconds later, knocking over all of his comrade's things in the hallway. His ruby eyes were lost in Sara's, who stared at him without blinking.

- Ah shit, I thought you two had left," he said, laughing and nervously scratching his head.

- Marvin, I think I'm going to destroy you and your whole family," Sara said dryly.

- But you still intend to continue to help me with the merçembuth history presentation?

- Maybe, if you pick up everything you just spilled in less than thirty seconds. After that time, I might purposely insert errors in your homework and insult the teachers to get you kicked out of school.

Marvin swallowed his saliva and picked it all up, helped by Annabelle, who then picked up Sara's purse. They continued on their way out of the school. Snow was falling in large flakes on Lausya. It was a venckelbuth of the month of jalestar. This year's system was particularly cold. Every day, Sarasvatî, Annabelle and Marvin came home from school together because their homes were on the same road. Since middle school, the three teenagers had spent a lot of time together working on subjects in which they were struggling. Despite her bullying attitude, Sara knew she needed Annabelle's help in math. In return, she would help them out when they had arguments with other students, but also in other subjects where Annabelle and Marvin were not performing as well as she did.

- It took exactly twenty-four seconds to pick up everything," says Annabelle. That's it, you're saved for your homework Marvin!

- No, because you helped him so it doesn't count. So I'm not going to help you, too," Sara replied.

Annabelle's face decomposed. The young sygreliad gradually slowed down her walk, when Sara suddenly ripped her purse from her hands.

- Oh, but we can't even laugh anymore? It's not possible that! I'll help you anyway, I'm not a monster ! We've known each other for a long time, seriously. You're the only two people I accept to talk to, stop being afraid like that for a little bit, otherwise I won't hang out with you anymore.

- You'll have to excuse me Sara, but considering how mad you were at Madame Bigot earlier, it doesn't make you want to be more upset than that.

- You have nothing to do with it, I wouldn't be stupid enough to make you pay for miss bigou's incompetence. And what do you think of what I said to her? Did you understand what she was talking about?

- I don't know," Annabelle hesitated. I was interested in her ideas, but she did talk fast. Anyway, it wasn't going to last long. Do you really think that letting her talk a little bit about it from time to time is so bad?

- The problem is there, and you both need to think about it too. Like me, you would like to become good atmologists later on, wouldn't you? Imagine letting all of our teachers knock us out with their unproven hypotheses for five to ten minutes per hour-long class. Imagine, in total, how much time we will have wasted! That would mean that...

Marvin grabs her by the arm and pulls her onto the road. Sara was so carried away by his explanation that she hadn't seen that it was time to cross.

- That would mean a lot of time would be lost," he added calmly. I know, it's okay. But only Madame Bigot does that. She is new, you said it yourself, and despite that she is still a good teacher!

Sara stared at him before raising her eyes to the sky.

- How much did you get at his last checkup, Marvin? Honestly?

- I got 8 out of 20, and you know very well that I usually get half in organic classes!

- Marvin, you got 8 and I got 10, whereas in bio I normally go out with at least 16. She's not a good teacher. And I need a record that is relevant to my entry into the top universities in Mysticiën. I have tried to be patient, I have already talked to her about the situation but the very next day she does the same thing to me. I wish she had at least been honest and told me clearly that she would continue to do as she pleased.

- And if she had said that, are you sure you wouldn't have done something, like spilling all her stuff on the floor or yelling at her that she's just incompetent?

Sara slowed down her walk slightly and began to contemplate the sky for a few seconds as a sign of reflection. Suddenly, her gaze returned to Annabelle.

- Yeah, you have a point. Are we still on for math tomorrow at 4:00?

- Yes, I have notified my parents. I leave you here, see you tomorrow!

She walked away discreetly. Sara and Marvin watched the silhouette in the small white coat disappear in the distance towards the east of the city, rubbing her arms against herself to warm up before she could go home. Marvin patted Sara on the back before bursting into laughter.

- Hey, Marvin. Really, I'm going to end up killing you if you touch me a third time.

- You're not cool to make Annabelle carry your bag like that! Look how tiny and cute she is in her coat, she still looks like a little girl.

They went the other way before Sara continued.

- I took advantage of this before she became a school principal. She will eat us all if we don't dominate her first. Look at her, with her little feet and her nice attitudes. She's hiding an evil genius, that's for sure.

- Aren't you projecting your own attitudes onto her?

- No. And you want to carry my bag instead maybe?

- I can't promise I'll never drop it if you let me do it, but we can always try, I guess.

At the agreement of her words, she jumped up and down to try to slap him on the back of the head. Marvin ducked, and the two teenagers began to chase each other around town. The discussion turned into a brief snowball fight, won by Sarasvatî. In their bickering, they had reached Marvin's family home, which was still lying on the ground. Before he got up, Sara approached him with a huge amount of snow in her arms.

- What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Notorious Criminal? she asked comically.

Marvin concentrated with all his strength and a pink glow covered him. Sara frowned, wondering what idiocy he was up to. A few seconds later, he had taken on the appearance of Sara herself.

- Nothing. Nothing that you wouldn't be able to hear. "He replied seriously and solemnly, to imitate Sara's phrase when she had argued with their teacher.

When she understood, she covered her face with snow and started kicking him. Marvin laughed and laughed for a good five minutes before getting up and returning to his original shape.

- Wazardins, you are really dangerous people. I hope you don't take my appearance to do anything in front of others.

- Given the sanctions that await me if I do that, it's better that I avoid. Well, I'm out of here. Get home safe, and don't kill your brother if he's done something stupid, okay?

- Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow.

Sara's home was a few dozen meters from here. All she had to do was cross a few roads, turn a couple of blocks, and she would find the park and then the building where she lived with her brother and mother. As she continued on her way silently, Sara got lost in her thoughts. She was still organizing her future, already imagining herself in a prestigious university, studying atmology as a Creator. The Creators combine the energies of Fire and Plants to fight and explore the world. What seduced Sara in this atmological discipline was the possibility of giving life to living creatures to fight at her side. Federating a team that she would have made entirely with her own hands... nothing could make her dream stronger.

Suddenly, as she was walking at a brisk pace, her foot stumbled on a thick piece of carjaline, in the middle of a park that she travels home through every day. Intrigued, she stopped to observe it more closely. The thick black debris reflected an intense glow. She recognized the fragments of black tourmaline, through which the last rays of the sun were seeping, then she sighed at length. It was a mechanical arm, and Sara knew exactly where it came from.

- I guess it's not ironic to have one intervention a year since high school by the Guild of Renovators, while the mayor himself leaves his pieces of inventions lying around anywhere...

She gave a huge kick to the robot arm. The noise resonated through the entire alloy. Sara looked a little further and recognized a hand also made of carjaline. Ecology was a cause that was close to her heart, also because she had become aware early on of the harmful effects that occur when no one pays attention to it. As she walked along the road again, she plunged into her memories. Many alloys and castings like these were not so easily recycled, and ended up impacting not only the fauna and flora, but also the people of Lausanne. As

far back as she can remember, Oscar Fanghël, the mayor of Lausya, has always considered the town as an experimental field of choice to test his prototypes. No one ever really knew what he was creating so many of them for. No one ever knew why he did not stop despite the numerous requests of the people of Lausya, and even worse: no one ever knew why the GCA (Great Council of Atmosphology), or even the GCM (Great Council of Martial Arts), had never acted in the face of this problem. Still, some members of the Guilde des Rénovateurs came to the aid of the lausois, but with great discretion.

Sara suspected well-disguised political shenanigans. She and other lausois knew that the ancestry of the Fanghël family was highly respected, had a long arm and could quickly come to grips with any opponent. This disturbing prospect probably kept many people silent. She swore to herself, however, that when she became powerful enough, Sara would make Oscar eat all his prototypes one after the other. She hoped that Annabelle, Marvin and her other friends would join her cause and that one day this city, and others suffering similar injustices, would become more effectively managed.

She finally reached the square in her neighbourhood: a poorly maintained place, decorated with a few benches and children's games, half of which had been seriously damaged. Buildings rose up around her, as if they were contemplating her with all the coldness of the system. A cold draught suddenly woke her up, awakening a wave of shivers that ran down her spine. She clenched her teeth, cursed and started looking for her keys in her bag before reaching the entrance hall. Then a strange smell tickled her nostrils. She knew that smell well.

- Nanthilia? Seriously, some guys start smoking this early in the day?

The fragrance was far too close for Sara to resist knowing who, in this neighborhood she knew on the tip of her fingers, was having fun rolling nanthilia joints. The local youth - and the youth from elsewhere - loved it for the fun and soothing psychic effects it provides. Sara then discreetly walked around the large building to the right, surreptitiously walked along the wall and bent down to see if there were people further away. She heard laughter, including one she could recognize from among a thousand. A group of four young boys sat on a bench at the back of the building and laughed loudly. She approached them discreetly. From then on, only a few centimeters separated her from the boys.

One of them turned around and fell face to face with Sara. With a hiccup of surprise, he jumped up and tripped his butt first on the field of grass. She still had her arms folded and that imperturbable expression that described her so well.

- Oh damn it! cried the young man who had just fallen. Why didn't you say you were there, Sara?

She didn't answer, then looked at another boy in the group. He was shorter than the others, had a black hair in a battle, big black eyes, and wore a red flannel shirt with white checks. He was the one with the nanthilia joint in his hands. His eyes were red with fatigue. When Sara saw the joint between her fingers, she raised her eyebrows without taking her eyes off it. The young man did not blink.

- Name of a kannidus, Sara. Do you want to become a cop for the GCs now or what's it like? You can shove your witchy eyes up your ass.

- Are you kidding me, Kieran? she replied.

Sara moved towards him to rip the joint out of his hands, but in response, he backed away. She grabbed him by the arm and eventually ripped it off, threw it to the ground, and crushed it vigorously with the tip of her foot.

- We had an agreement between the two of us. You had to behave better and make an effort because I warned you about the consequences of this thing, and I find you three days later smoking with three idiots from the neighbourhood?

- Oh eh, that's good," replied one of them, ready to defend his cause.

Feeling the anger rising, Sara turned to them as if to forbid them to dare to speak again. The boys preferred to stay there and walk away, stunned by the effects of the nanthilia. Sara began to feel tired and disappointed. She didn't take her eyes off Kieran, who, on the other hand, was very angry.

- You're really annoying when you get into it. I've already told you that this situation is my business! Why don't you want to get off my back, don't you have classes to study or whatever else you need to do in your corner with your nerdy friends?

For the umpteenth time today, she sighed.

- We're talking about your future Kieran, I'm not doing this just to annoy you. I'm your sister, it's my job to warn you about the effects of these things! Do you realize that mercenaries and explorers use this to cause psychic disturbances on their opponents? Do you think it's normal to blow your head off with it?

- Yes! because it's my skull and I do what I want with it! I don't want to do mega-studies like you, me.

She remained silent as Kieran assailed her with all her favorite phrases to express her desire for independence and freedom. Her tirades continued for minutes on end. In the hall, in the elevator, and until they entered the apartment. He slammed the front door with all his might.

- If you're going to sneak up on me like that all the time, I'm just going to end up breaking into someone else's house without telling anyone! I'm tired of having you on my ass, you understand that? You're pissing me off!

- You're not doing what you want here Kieran," she shouted back. You're fourteen years old, you're a minor, you don't have to make these kinds of decisions, let alone talk to me like that! And if you want to run away, I'm going to find you whether you like it or not!

This time it was the door to Kieran's room that slammed. A few seconds later, he launched a hard rock song at maximum volume. Sara was about to tell him to turn it down, but when she put her hand on the latch, she heard him turn the key in the lock. She put her hands to her hair and growled in irritation before going into the kitchen. The room was dirty, dimly lit with a light that Sara often described as "too white. Tired from work, her mother Naska didn't always have time to clean the apartment. Kieran would never get down to it, and Sara was far too busy working on her lessons.Putting her purse on the floor, she abruptly pulled out one of the chairs and dropped herself on it, taking her head in her hands and closing her eyes. A warm smell of boiled yone permeated the room. Naska, was cooking. Sara hated boiled food. It was the worst day she could have hoped for.

- Then my dear, why did your brother go to his room? Why are you still arguing? she asked softly.

- I've already come out of a class given by a poor incompetent and when I get downstairs, I find him smoking nanthilia with a bunch of jerks from the neighborhood. I had spoken with him not even a week ago, he told me that he understood and that he was going to make an effort, and look what he's doing!

- Don't be hard on your brother, honey.

- But how can I not be hard on him when he literally doesn't care about the world?

- You know that the situation is not easy for Kié. He needs time to act, and he's a young boy. Give him some time.

- If I'm the only one trying to be a little firmer with him, frankly, it's not going to help him. At some point you're going to have to do something serious. Let me remind you that I'm the one who pays for the private lessons that Amaëlle gives him! I work two days a week to help with homework for those in difficulty, but also to pay for her lessons! It's not by getting high on nanthilia every night that he's likely to learn things and use his memory well. I don't want to do that for nothing, it also impacts me, you understand?

Naska marked a time of silence. Busy with her dish, she grabbed a bowl of spices and poured a tiny part of it into the broth she was preparing. She then drained the fragrant rice before continuing.

- You should relax a little bit Sara. I know you do a lot, but you could ask Amaelle for an advance for the classes.

- No. I'm not going to do that. I just want Kieran to get to work.

- Be patient, there is no reason to get into all these states. You must not push him to leave the house. I will be sad if something happens to him.

- I am already patient. All the time. And so am I...

Sara felt that no matter what she might say, her mother would remain relaxed, or at least pretend to. Between the loud music played in her brother's room, the smell of boiled yone that was going to make her nauseous, and that incarnation with Madame Bigot earlier, she began to think that spending the evening here would be a bad idea. So she went to her room and made a call to Marvin.

- Hello Mrs. Solenelle?" he answered.

- Marvin, can I come to your house tonight?

- It depends on what for. Like, if it's for the presentation, I'm okay with it.

- Do you have fresh choums? Do you still have your two controllers to play with? Do you have an interesting topic of discussion in mind?

- Wow, we have a real program here, don't we?

- Yes or no?

- Yeah, yeah, it's quiet. Are you sure you're okay, Sara?

- I'll be there in five minutes. I'm sleeping at your place.

- Well, okay. I'll see you in a minute.

0 notes

withered-rose-unbreakable-lotus · 3 years

Note

Gonna talk about personal here regarding having sex. And etc.

I never had any romantic relationship, but had one experience (like sexting?) when I was teen to someone two years older (we've been pals for years and never do it physically). It was a thrill and I don't think I want to do it IRL, because part of me assumed it as traumatic experience, and I always afraid to look for romantic partner / starting a family of my own.

Aside sexual thing, like basically everything could ruin your marriage. I don't want it. But I'm touchstarving fellow who's weakness is keeping good relation to anyone.

I'm super envy when people goes saying how they love their partner. I want to be / have one, but I'm a coward and couldn't praise anything.

I want to take care of people, but to imagine people does it to me? Give me a break.

First off, I’d like to say I was going to answer privately to that, based on the subject, but, since it’s on anon, I am really sorry I have to post the reply like that. This is something I consider personal, therefore easier for both the person sending and myself to be open to such a conversation without fear who’s watching, judging etc. To your message, now, I too have never been into a romantic relationship before due to various reasons, some of which are based on a couple of same fears you’re describing here so, I totally understand what you mean and it’s super valid to feel that way. People keep mentioning only people who feel better not being in a relationship, or being in one and not having sex, when it comes to that subject, but not much for people like you or me, who do want the relationship part but can’t imagine themselves succeeding in keeping it strong, loving, passionate, or sth else, or even all of the above. People who’ve suffered abuse are also mentioned in such conversations, people who’ve been traumatized to try and then wish for their partners to have patience with them, as not everyone who’s been through sth like that can just “get over it“ or heal by themselves before trying a relationship with someone who shows them they deserve to be loved, or to not be afraid of abuse cause not everyone is abusive, or anything else their trauma has created in their mind and body to feel that fear. The thing is, whether it’s talked about or not, there are various reasons for people not to "feel ”able to get into a relationships or sexual contact with someone, and I use the word “feel“ loosely, because I personally think everyone is able to get into a relationship if they really want it, but fear or trauma or sth else holds them back. I am not talking about those who really don’t want it, here. Relationships are not something everyone wants and that’s okay, so anyone not into relationships here please don’t bite, that’s not what I meant.

I generalize a lot, though. To be more specific: In my opinion (which could be super wrong so please don’t take this as a fact or judgement) if part of you thinks that was a traumatizing experience for you, it is. I have experienced this myself and known people who’ve been through this before. I mean having been through something many people have and find normal, yet when you went through it, it felt scarring or even traumatic. When you go through such a feeling for something considered “normal“ you often end up thinking that maybe you are exaggerating, or that you are being oversensitive, but let me tell you what, not all people have the same limits and sensitivities. If some people are fine doing sth like that, good for them, but it’s not the same for everyone so, if you feel that hurt you, it probably did, so I think you should start from there when you think “when did i start feeling scared of getting into a relationship.“. Like you said though, there is more to that than that experience and like I said, several of these things I have felt too for my own reasons. I suck at keeping friends for a long time so i also understand your feeling unable to keep good relationships with anyone. I’ve only now started to get some balance, the last two-three years and honestly I don’t trust myself that I will manage to keep doing that. I think about it at least once a week. When I am down, it gets worse, I often find myself thinking who I should speak to and how that would affect my relationship with them because I am tired of losing friends. As for partners I have never tried but I’ve also come across people who never managed to keep friends, but have found excellent partners, so I no longer think that your ability to keep your friendships going has anything to do with your ability to keep a romantic partner or have a family. Just bringing that last one up as an example and personal observation.

I feel touchstarved a lot too, sometimes, but due to the fact I’ve also grown to dislike being touched without permission, it doesn’t bother me as much as not having someone to hold, myself. It’s like you want to give a hug but not receive it? xD Sth like that. I want to give a lot, but not necessarily receive as I too can’t imagine someone taking care of me, both due to seeing the kind of love most people enjoy (which is unfortunately not my type, but luckily that equals to me not being jealous of anyone unless I see the kind of love I am looking for, which is rare) and also because I don’t feel I deserve it. So envy is super rare for me but I do get that with all of the social media image, most people like me or like you would feel that way. If it helps in any way, try to think that those posting their love life a lot might not be showing you the bad or even real moments of their relationship. I am not saying that everyone who posts about their love all the time are fake, some people can’t stop talking about their partner when in love (been there, just with my feelings not returned), but a big percentage of them are so tell yourself that when you are feeling jealous and specify the kind of love you want and if you’d really like to have that kind of love or just love in general. It won’t solve anything but it might make you feel better.

Anyway, I am sorry I shared some advice too, I am sure you only wished to share your feelings and you already know the things I said, I didn’t say anything revolutionary anyway but please don’t give up. If it makes you feel better, start with friendships. Find people you got as many things as possible in common and try to get involved. As for partners, I don’t know what to say because I gave up on the idea long ago, but I really believe you can find someone, if that is something you want. Will it heal your fear your marriage could go to waste every single moment? No. I have the same fear, I don’t think it ever goes away. But you can always discuss it with your partner when it shows up. Now, if you are a person who dates men, it might get harder to discuss this frequently as I have noticed men find it a bit annoying when you constantly want to discuss your relationship, but if you’re into girls, I think it’s easier. Even if you don’t put yourself in a box and don’t mind such a thing, I consider women and nonbinary people more likely to discuss this often, than men, I don’t know. I guess I have lost faith in men way too much. ^^’> Again, if you wish to give up on the idea, do it, but envy is there for a reason, so I’d suggest you kept trying to find sb you like and if you do, try to be friends with them at first. You might get friendzoned yes, but in my opinion, the percentage of the possibility to be friendzoned is almost the same as that you’d get rejected at the first or one of the first dates with someone. Get to know the person you like, give yourself space to feel comfortable with them and if it is to happen it will happen. If it happens then instead of focusing on the ways everything can ruin it, focus on the ways you can save it. :) Think to yourself “what does my partner like“ and then which of those things are fine for you to do or try to show them your love. If they still leave despite your being giving, understanding etc, then they just weren’t for you. It’s not always your fault. People can be cruel. And those of them who are broken might give up on something they needed because they didn’t think they deserve it, which is why I said focus on the ways you could save it. You don’t have to force yourself though. That’s a big no. You can choose to heal inside a relationship or before getting into one. You could address to a psychologist to learn to control your fear, as well, I personally refuse to do that, but not everyone is me, so you can do as you please.

Either way, I really hope this eventually works out for you and you can always get into a relationship without expecting anything, that way you can get less hurt if it turns sours, but it can be so rewarding when you eventually realize someone is actually giving back. ^^ Give it a chance only when you are sure you can trust a person at least at 10%. Your fears won’t allow you trust them completely and your self-sabotage might get in the way so try that, if you really want to be with someone one day. Get to know them, try to see if you’d trust them and then try to make a move oooor discuss it with them, what kind of person you are looking for I mean. They might like you back if they realize what you are looking for is “similar“ to them. :3 Best of luck to you, dear. As hard as life may be and as hard as it might have hit you, don’t let it win. It’s your life, goddammit, if you want sth go after it even if you’re afraid. Courage has nth to do with being free of fear, it is being able to tell your fears you’re doing this even if you’re shaking. If it is what you want (getting in a romantic and loving relationship), then no one, not your fears, nor social media, nor society, not even God, themselves, if they exist, can tell you you cannot have it.

0 notes

slingsendarrows · 5 years

Text

My First Drake Album

Nicholas Rodney Drake was born June 19, 1948, and died 26 years later after ingesting approximately 30 amitriptyline pills. It was ruled a suicide. Nick Drake was an English singer-songwriter whose acoustic guitar songs navigated the tumultuous and oft-misunderstood travails of living with depression. His music was not popular while he lived but has since garnered worldwide recognition and critical acclaim in the years since.

I discovered Nick Drake and his music after a traumatic experience. Those around me, charged with my care, my built-in support system (or so I thought), did not see it that way, so I was forced to seek other ways to trek along this new, unfamiliar, and terrifying path.

Music allows me to understand complicated things, and in turn, I recognize myself. It has been that way for as long as I can remember. It was the same the instant I discovered Nick Drake, Cat Power, and the Elliot Smith types of the world, delving into and exploring the deep well of my sorrow. There is something incredibly self-indulgent about pain and suffering. It is fundamentally personal, subjective, and selfish, but surrounded by an entitled sense of affecting a world larger than ourselves; it embodies all our pain, even if that particular experience is uniquely our own. And so it is with Nick. He gave my experience words I could not articulate to myself, let alone others.

I was recently having coffee with a friend and at one point explained how living with depression has required I disengage with some people in my life. His first question, "What are you depressed about?" I hate this question. I hate it because it requires a definite answer as if I can carefully and comprehensively explain what it means to live with depression in a few short sentences encompassing the reality of it, all while holding my breath hoping what I say is clearly understood. I hate it because it is all too common. I know why it is common--because depression is difficult to explain; it is personal and universal. Personal because it happens to the individual; universal in that it happens to many individuals, more than 300 million of us according to the World Health Organization. So, is it naive to desire a succinct, identifiable, and generalizable reason? Maybe not. But I don't have one.

All I can do is borrow the words of a poet whose art helps me understand my depression, at least in part.

Nick Drake was signed to a record deal at 20 and released three albums, Five Leaves Left (1969), Byter Layter and Pink Moon (1972), and the posthumous box-set Fruit Tree (1979). While living, Nick did not promote his music and was reluctant to give interviews. Neither of his albums sold more than 5,000 copies upon initial release, and all we have of the artist are his music and still photographs. These sparse facts make me both sad and content. Part of me feels he never wanted to give us more than his music, and for me, it's enough. It has to be enough. It is more than enough.

So much can be said about the artist and his art. Five Leaves Later is a deeply personal and raw poetic exercise of a man wrestling with his creation and what it means to hold oneself sacred when the world requires you expose more than you're willing for global recognition of said art.

Beginning with "Time Has Told Me," he laments, Time has told me/ You're a rare, rare find/ A troubled cure/ For a troubled mind/ And time has told me/ Not to ask for more/ Someday our ocean will find its shore. Drake is deeply self-aware of the struggles within his mind. He succumbs to the reality that while his troubled mind is a gift, it is a "troubled cure." It allows him to see clearly with no indication as to how it can be any different. Depression feels much the same. In the darkest moments, you achieve hopeless clarity. You know what is happening to you. You're viscerally aware of how your mind is attacking the rest of your being and understand the physiological effects manifesting, but you don't stop it, you can't, your mind won't let you. A "troubled cure" indeed!

Without a definitive answer to proffer, Drake merely suggests we learn to cope in this new reality instead: So leave the ways that are making you be/ What you don't want to be/ Leave the ways that are making you love/ What you really don't want to love. It is unfair to ask more of yourself than that, especially in the midst of a depressive episode (a singular beast unto itself). Talking it out with someone helps, but therapy is a privilege not all of us can afford. The best you can do is decipher how depression ails you in real tangible ways and work towards subverting actions that turn the picnic into a never-ending feast of abundance.

My depression revels and thrives in isolation and despair. I have lived with it long enough to identify the stages of my Dementor infestation. First I had to give it an identity that is not me. I had to separate Nyasha from what J.K. Rowling describes as "the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places. They glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope and happiness out of the air around them[...]Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself--soul-less and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life."

My descent begins with isolation. I cut myself off from everyone and anything capable of giving me hope. My perfectionist-in-recovery leanings make it challenging to let people close to me know I am struggling so I deflect, I lie, or just disappear. I genuflect to my tormentors, and with that surrender, they infiltrate with the intensity of quelling a resistance that simply doesn't exist. They are here for everything; they will take everything, whether you give in willingly or put up a fight. Before naming my tormentor, throwing in the towel was just part of the deal. Why bother, right Eeyore?

Next comes, avoidance. I call in sick to work more often than I should and with no strength to do anything about it, I let things fall apart. My apartment looks like a hoarders fantasy, dishes stacked in the sink become science experiments and I grow comfortable with the increasingly pungent reek of my body odour. I take Netflix bingeing to Olympic levels. I eat and eat and eat, to suppress the pain of my trauma, burying myself in pizza boxes, cinnamon rolls, potato chips and pot until all I can feel is my bloated and overly extended stomach. I berate myself for not having self-control, smoke more weed to induce indifference, wake up in regret, promise to do better, rinse and repeat.

Over time I realized this was a roommate I would have to drag along to all the parties in spite of her feelings. So I made a plan to help me "leave the ways that are making me be who I really don't want to be": a miserable, fat, unhappy, sad person trying and failing to reverse-engineer their past. I cut certain people out of my life, read several self-help and psychology books (with care), started treating my body as if I gave a shit, even when I didn't, stopped chain-smoking pot, and most importantly, discovered CrossFit and the power of endorphins. CrossFit saved my life. At first, it was to quell the hunger to be loved and accepted by a man who did not see past my fatness, but now it is to survive and live to fight another day, hoping "someday our ocean will find its shore." Expecto Patronum!!

Two songs from Five Leaves Later have been constant companions on this journey, "Saturday Sun" and "Fruit Tree.” The oddity of living with my Dementor is how surprised we both are when confronted with a genuinely beautiful day. I mean a gorgeous, sun's bright, trees rustling to the soft breeze, blue skies kind of day. Depending on how long we've been companioning in our misery, we are more likely to close the curtains even harder and shut out the realness of life outside our wretchedness. How dare it shine so unabashedly and affront us with its glory? Doesn't our pain matter? Of course not, you self-indulgent sad person. It's the sun. It rises and sets. Sometimes the days are cloudy, bitter cold with rain and snow, but the sun still rises, as it as done since the dawn of time. It doesn't consider my individual circumstances. For it will be what the sun has always been: burning and shining, bright and perpetual.

That is the sentiment of "Saturday Sun." Suddenly you're not feeling so bad. There is momentary reprieve; momentary because you've learned it is only a matter of time. You're confused when the Saturday sun [comes] early one morning/ In a sky so clear and blue/ Saturday sun came without warning/ So no-one knew what to do. After living in the depths of despair for so long, you forget what it feels like to feel good. You are anxious when suddenly your ever-present roommate takes a day, or week, or a month off. She didn't leave a note, but you know she'll be back. Maybe it's when the meds finally kick in and/or your lifestyle changes are starting to take effect, and you can cope with some semblance of normalcy.

In the light of day you remember the things you have neglected: the two Chopin concerts you paid for but didn't attend although you were dying to see Lang Lang, the numerous friend engagements you bailed on at the last minute, the phone calls that went unanswered, the dreams and goals deferred, and the countless failures to rally yourself. This sun has brought people and faces/ That didn't seem much in their day/ But when I remember those people and places/ They were really too good in their way/ In their way/ In their way/ Saturday won't come to see me today. You despair at all the time lost and wonder if you are meant to feel bad always, even on the seemingly good days when the rays of clarity reach your soul to remind you things are not all bad.

I often gaze at reality through a veneer of misery. Realizing how things weren't as bad as I thought makes me feel sorry for having considered them that bad, to begin with. Am I making up my depression? Am I decadent in my despair? Is this just an act? What is wrong with me? That is the consuming aspect of depression. Reprieve is more work. Trying to hold on to it, knowing its a losing battle, and wondering if your defeatist attitude is the reason it is a losing battle. Maybe you're not trying hard enough. You think about stories with reason and rhyme/ Circling through your brain/ And think about people in their season and time/ Returning again and again/ And again/ And again/ but Saturday sun has turned to Sunday's rain. It is fucking relentless.

"Fruit Tree" reads like a self-fulfilling prophecy. It is an artist's individual understanding of fame and legacy. It is incredibly forward-thinking because Nick Drake died, I believe, understanding the value of his art yet somewhat resigned to the world not catching on until long after he was gone. Fame is but a fruit tree/ So very unsound/ It can never flourish/ 'Till its stock is in the ground/ So men of fame/ Can never find a way/ 'Til time has flown far from their dying day/ Forgotten while you're here/ Remembered for a while/ A much-updated ruin/ From a much-outdated style. Whether we yearn for conventional fame or to simply make our mark upon this world, legacy is a unique desire of the mortal. It is our final stand against death and lets the world know we were here, we mattered, we connected. I once read that immortality is achieved in the memories of those who remember us after we're gone. We are not truly dead until the last person who carries our memory dies with it. There is something both comforting and terrifying about that. We are remembered by our loved ones and the lives we've affected, knowingly and otherwise. But memory is fragile, subjective, and prone to manipulation. So how well is our legacy maintained? Does the remembrance bear a resemblance to who we really were? How we lived, loved, failed, triumphed, survived, endured, or were defeated? How can we ask so much when we begin to understand that to “err is human,” and we are all selective in what we remember, let alone how we remember it.

"Fruit Tree" is a remarkably well-penned bookend to "Time Has Told Me." We shouldn't ask for more but live in gratitude of what has been given to us, and maybe that will lead us where all our struggling and fighting against the tide has been guiding us--to a place were" our ocean finds its shore." But still, we can't help but wonder what we leave behind, the parts of us that remain beyond the veil and our ability to curate and frame ourselves. When all that is left is what is remembered, how can we not worry about that too?

Drake's response exposes the futility of these obsessive musings: Life is but a memory/ Happened long ago/ Theatre full of sadness/ For a long forgotten show/ Seems so easy/ Just to let it go on by/ 'Till you stop and wonder/ Why you never wondered why. Will the rooms of despair carry the memory of your trauma the way your body has? Probably not. Another soul will take residence there to tell their own story, cement their own legacy. I'm reminded of Alfred, Lord Tennyson's "The Charge of the Light Brigade," Not though the soldier knew/ Someone had blundered/ Theirs not to make reply/ Theirs not to reason why/ Theirs but to do and die/ Into the valley of Death/ Rode the six hundred. Theirs but to do and die.

Worrying about legacy after death seems futile when all we can do is live out our days, and hopefully, past the reeds of selfish thoughts, needs, and desires, we do some good that is not "interred with our bones." Maybe in death, we find an understanding of ourselves, our place, and our experiences. But there is no knowing until we go through it: Safe in the womb of an everlasting night/ You find the darkness can give the brightest light/ Safe in your place deep in the earth/ That's when they'll know what you were really worth. Or not, but what does it matter? You've done your part. You lived. You experienced things that made you, and for better or worse, you were here.

Fruit tree, fruit tree/ No one knows you but the rain and the air/ Don't you worry/ They'll stand and stare when you're gone

Fruit tree, fruit tree/ Open your eyes to another year/ They'll all know/ That you were here when you're gone

I know you were here Nicholas Rodney Drake. Long before I was born, your ocean was making its way to my shore. I understand my depression better through your music and the intense vulnerability you bared. You bore fruit within my soul and allowed me to realize that while my struggles with mental health aren't unique, it does not make them irrelevant. I remember you. I see you, Fruit Tree. Keep blossoming!

#nick drake #music #mental health #legacy #depression

0 notes