#but as dramatic as it sounds i honestly cant imagine loving my personal child any more than i love these kids. not that I wouldnt love them

[shewantsitall]

It's angst on a new level tbh

[eberles]

i hate u, i love u

Rafe Cameron

(gif by @toesure :)

Request: A Rafe fic based on the song “I hate u, I love you” by gnash (ft Olivia O’Brien) PLEASE MAJOR RAFE VIBES 🥺💖 @fav-imagines

A/N: I wanted to cry writing this lol idk why but it hit me right in the feels!! it’s kind of all over the place, if anyone is confused by, don’t worry bc i am too!!!! lol anyways enjoy!! (this is probably the first thing ive ever written that goes with rafe’s character) bold = lyrics, italics = flashbacks

Warnings: angst, mentions of drugs, cheating, lying, toxic relationship, swearing

feelin used, but im still missin you and i cant see the end of it just wanna feel your kiss against my lips and now all this time is passing by, but i still cant seem to tell you why it hurts me every time i see you, realize how much i need you

I’ve spent months sitting in my room staring at the ceiling, and at the walls. I did a full Bella Swan from New Moon and let 3 months go by without being present for any of them. I didn’t care honestly...Even after spending all that time alone, i’m not still not healed from the heartache that was caused by him. I still miss him, his scent, his kisses, his clothes, everything. Rafe.

I went out once and he was the last person I wanted or planned to see, but of course, he was the only person I actually saw. Sure, there were other people around, but none of them mattered. Everyone else felt greyed out except for him. He was the only light I could see in those short moments. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, my breath hitched in my throat and it felt like there was no air left to breathe.

After months it still hurts to see him again. It hurts because I realized I still need him even after everything. I hate him. So why do I love him? The feeling of him being the only one I want, the one nobody could ever replace...it’s overwhelming and I can’t seem to shake it. But me? He replaced. It looked like it was easy from my point of view. He needed her, wanted her, and i’m not her.

i miss you when i can’t sleep or right after coffee or right when i can’t eat, i miss you in my front seat, still got sand in my sweaters from nights we don’t remember. do you miss me like i miss you? fucked around and got attached to you.

My head was consumed on thoughts of you. It was constant. Like the leaky faucet in the bathroom or the loose floorboard. Always running, always broken. I miss you. Maybe you’ll come around, but for now...I wish you were here instead. When it’s late and I can’t sleep, I think about you. When it’s early and I can’t eat, I think about you.

“Where are we going?” you giggled excitedly, grabbing my hand from across the console in my truck.

“Shh, I told you it’s a surprise baby, we’re almost there anyways.” I laughed at her giggling like a kid, she had so much excitement in her eyes. She was always ready for anything, even if it was 2 in the morning and I love that about her. I love everything about her.

“Ugh fine!” she groaned dramatically and rolled her eyes in a full circle looking up at the ceiling. “Why are we at the beach?” you didn’t even give me enough time to answer before jumping out of the truck and running towards the sand laughing the entire way to the water. Once I caught up with you, I grabbed your hands and pulled you close into my chest, kissing your forehead. When we broke apart I laid down a few blankets on the sand, noticing you were cold, I also gave you my sweater.

We stared at the stars and talked about anything and everything for hours. It felt magical. We stayed until the sun came up, watching the sunset before driving back to my house for some much needed rest.

Walking over to my closet, curious to know if that same sweater ended up back in my closet after that night. I reached in, digging around not finding anything and decided to look in my dresser instead. Of course, it was folded neatly in the drawer you used to call yours. Grabbing and shaking it out I noticed the light pieces of sand that fell from it. I brought it in to my nose wondering if it still smelt like your perfume. It did. I’m always tired lately, but never of you. Do you miss me too?

if i pulled a you on you, you wouldn’t like that shit, i put this reel out, but you wouldn’t bite that shit. i type a text then i never mind that shit, i got these feelings, but you never mind that shit. you’re still in love with me but your friends don’t know.

To Y/N: i wanna talk, i think...maybe i miss y-

*delete*

To Rafe: I miss you so much, it hurt someti-

*delete*

“Y/N...what’s going on? You’re off in never never land! Do you still miss him?” Kiara asked, gently shaking my knee to gain my attention back to the group. I looked at her and around at the rest of the pogues and put a smile on my face, shaking my head.

“Of course not, it’s been months! I’m so over him, guys. Besides even if I did, it wouldn’t matter.” I tried so hard to sound confident. I hope they bought it. Of fucking course, I miss Rafe. I’m still in love with him for gods sake. I hate that I want him.

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Sure, i’ve moved on, but I think about y/n, just about everyday. I guess for me, moving on is finding someone new, but not actually wanting anyone new. I just couldn’t bare to be alone anymore with my thoughts. I deserve better than that, personally.

“Anyways Topper, if y/n wanted me still, she would say so right?” I looked at Topper, silently hoping he would lie to me, just tell me what I want to hear, man. “If I were her, I would’ve never let me go. She’s missing out.”

“Hell yea, dude! That’s the right attitude.” Topper said, jumping up to high five me. Of course, that was the statement he was on board with. I hate that I want you.

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I haven’t been to a party in months, Kiara and Sarah thought that this would be the most fitting post-break up activity for me. Maybe meet a new guy or something. I tuned out when they were telling me about it and just agreed. What I neglected to listen to, was that it was a kook party. So now, i’m at a party alone, since my friends ditched me to dance with each other. And on top of that, I watch him watch her, like she’s the only girl he’s ever seen.

It took less than an hour of being at this party for us to end up in a room alone together.

“You don’t care! You never did!” Rafe shouted, running his hands through his hair, clearly exasperated with this conversation. I don’t even know how it started. One minute I was watching him with another girl, and the next he was hauling me off, away from everyone.

“You don’t give a damn about me, Rafe! How is it you never notice that you’re slowly killing me?” you wanted to yell back at him, to scream at him for putting you through this again, but you couldn’t. He didn’t say anything in return so you continued, “I hate you, and I hate that I love you, Rafe.” I’ve tried to move on, but even the simple thought of dating anyone but him, makes me physically ill. Why does it have to be like this?

“I don’t mean no harm, I just miss you on my arm, babe. Do you ever wonder what we could’ve been y/n?” He’s taunting me by asking dumb questions, as if I wanted this to happen, as if i’m the cause of all of this. Rafe’s the one that was closed off, not me. Of course, he switches the stories and i’m sure everyone at this damn party thinks I left him heart broken.

“You have a girlfriend, why are you even asking me that?” I was starting to get angry, I felt like he was toying with me.

He’s laughing. Of fucking course, he’s laughing at me. This is all one big fucking joke to him. “Lie to me, lie with me, get your fucking fix. Isn’t that what you always told your friends Rafe?” I was furious, how could he act that way after everything? He’s still a child though, that will never change.

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You were right. I did lie to you, multiple times. About where I was, who I was with, what I was doing. I didn’t want you to know I was such a fuck up. You didn’t deserve the pain of finding out I was lying and cheating and drugging. You did anyways though. Now all my drinks and all my feelings are all fucking mixed.

“Rafe! Come dance with me!” I downed the rest of my drink before throwing the glass down and walking away from the new girl I was seeing. I didn’t care anymore.

I don’t want you, Y/N. I shouldn’t fucking miss you. I don’t deserve to! Seeing you again is such bullshit. If you wouldn’t have shown up here, I wouldn’t have said those things to you. Sometimes you gotta burn some bridges, just to create some distance. You didn’t deserve that, I knew it, but at least now you might learn your lesson and stay away. It’s for the best, right?

I hate that I love her, but I can’t put nobody else above her.

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I wasn’t sure if I had the closure I needed, but after that particular conversation with Rafe I felt a little better. I returned to the party with my head held high and danced with my friends. I hoped he was watching me too since i’m not sure what he was trying to do by joking around at my expense. But maybe if he thinks it didn’t bother me he will know how it fucking feels. 

I learned from my dad that it’s good to have feelings when love and trust is gone. I guess this is moving on. I hate you, I love you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[braindumpsterfires]

“Like cubic zirconia, I only look real. I'm an imposter. The fact is, I am not like other people.” ― Augusten Burroughs, Dry

     I got pretty good at faking it, I guess.  There was a time when “are you okay?” was a pretty often question I’d hear from the few people I had in my life.  I’d zoned off again, disassociating.  Maybe somebody glanced my way weird and it seemed they could be judging me.  There goes my mood.  The only thing I can do is look away and stay quiet, legs shaking, goosebumps all over... Nausea so bad I can’t help but gag from time to time... Sometimes I’d answer the question, often to be dismissed as “just being sensitive” or “nervous” and just to “forget about it” and “focus on something else.”  They didn’t get it.  Not to get into the gross details, but my bowels have been greatly effected by my illness, and I had thought it was “just nerves”.  It had happened as long as I can remember.  I was an “anti-social” kid.  When I was real young if you’d talk to me and you weren’t somebody I’d see on a regular basis, I’d lose my shit.  Not like literally... But, I couldn’t handle strangers.  I’d start to freak out and cry and shut down.  I wouldn’t communicate with them.  I didn’t know what anxiety was then.       

     Mentally ill meant crazy... I wasn’t crazy, and I knew that then. To me that’d mean I would hear distinct voices or do weird twitches or hoard or something like on TV.  Like One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest.   Because my thoughts didn’t match up with what I felt mental illness meant, I had accepted I was just “sensitive”, “shy”, “quiet”, “weird”, “moody”, “dramatic”, “obsessive”, “manic”, “hard to love”, “exhausting”, as I was told time and time again.  Left undiagnosed, it only got worse and worse.  Life didn’t know it had to be a little gentler with me.  That I was sick.  The adults in my life pushed me harder when they needed to sit me down and talk with me and just try to understand that my brain is different. They couldn’t see my brain was sick and needed help.

    I’d grab hold of anyone who would give me the time of day and wouldn’t let go unless they rejected me.  I thought love meant somebody who could tolerate being around me and say what I needed to hear at the time to soothe the fucking demon that is my illness.  I got into relationships with people I should’ve kept as friends.  I misinterpreted connections and charmed my way into the situations I thought I needed... to feel something.  Something to fill the void of emptiness I had felt for so long. If it meant me having to do all the work in the relationship, I did it.  That’s why my name is still on a house that I will receive no equity in when sold, despite the fact I paid the mortgage for a long time.  Hell, go back even further... I was married at 19.  I’ve often considered having a child with partners in the past with a direct goal in my head that that meant they wouldn’t leave me ever.  That’s an unhealthy way to think.  But it isn’t my fault...  All I can say is, I’m sure glad somehow nature was kind to my broken-brained self and kept me fairly safe.  I have credit card debt.  But I don’t have any STDs or diseases, I don’t have any kids... The divorce actually was finalized (forced by a partner at the time, but it was the push I needed to get it done, so whatever.)  

        It’s not easy to sit here today and accept the fact that all the people I’ve had hate in my heart for for so long just didn’t know how to deal with me.  I can’t blame them completely, though I’ve pushed a large portion of my insecurities on them and their actions in my life specifically.  They say a lot of recovery begins with forgiving people. Forgiveness is a concept I haven’t explored much, not when dismissing my feelings as not real is far less anxiety-inducing. I mean sure, some who have meandered in and out of my life deserve to stay gone, because their actions, while overlooked at the time, can now be looked back on as unforgivable.  In no way blaming myself, the thought does occur to me that perhaps my chemical imbalances are the spark of many of the traumas I’ve experienced.  I don’t give those people that much power, honestly.  It isn’t “all their fault.” What I am saying is if I caught this thing before it ran my life for this long, things would be way different. My life has been quite the cocktail of undiagnosed, ignored, dismissed mental illness and life events that would devastate a person who would be considered, generally, mentally healthy...  It’s no wonder everyone is in awe of how much shit I’ve experienced in 25 years.  I’ve lived through things many people probably never even will experience, and 90% of it was set into motion by my mental illness.  It strapped me to a bad situation and wouldn’t let me leave until I couldn’t handle it any longer.  Cutting the ties had to be very abrupt and as impersonal as possible, (cant handle somebody being mad at me...)  Getting out meant sending a text or even an email, then throwing my phone across the room, ignoring the world for as long as possible.  I know breaking up that way is the asshole way to do it. But I literally couldn’t handle that kind of pressure with another person.

Weed wasn’t a thing then, I was too afraid because I had been raised to associate weed with prescription pain pills... They were evil, and had made it so my childhood was never stable and I lived in a car for a minute and never had my own room and spent 7 years sleeping on an area rug on a living room floor.  And no one paid attention, so I stayed unhealthy mentally.  And it got worse.  And worse.

  As I think so deeply about it, things make more and more sense.  These deep inner thoughts about MYSELF seemed so foreign before.  Maybe I could imagine it for a flicker of a second, but then the lack of self worth would come into play and I’d obsess over how poorly I did something or how those in my life didn’t truly love me and that I felt so empty and bored and just wanted to feel...something.  Faking love is fucked up.  It’s fucked up to have done it a lot throughout your life.  I’m done with that shit...

   I believe the mental illness itself has been passed to me from my mother.  My dad was mentally healthy, aside from abusing alcohol for a time (which he sought AA for because of me and recovered from and remained sober from when I could walk, on.)  My mother abused sleeping pills at the end.  She killed herself accidentally... She just wanted peace from the disorder that she never was allowed to understand.  But I can see it now.  I won’t let myself not get help for this.  I want a life worth living, damnit.  For once in my life I fucking feel like I deserve that.  And that’s a really, really new and cool thing for me.

        I don’t feel empty today.  I’ve had fun and have been pinpointing things I enjoy that make me, well...me.  It started out with spending a good portion of my day with W, and that friendship is going along real well.  It’s cool being able to share my sudden self discovery with somebody like I was able to last night and today.  I’m totally ready to develop more healthy friendships.  For the first time I want to put myself into social situations on purpose.  I want to interact with likeminded people and have fun.  That sounds so obvious as I reread it to myself... But before this breakthrough I really couldn’t enjoy that (masks are great coping mechanisms, fooled ya.)

      And if love finds me eventually, that’s cool.  I do hope it does.  But for now, I’m just going to keep being me, especially now that I have stuff I genuinely want to experience and do now.  I see how I’ve forced things I didn’t even want in the past, just to have someone, and I won’t do that shit again.  I hope certain people stick around, but I’m not bending over backwards for people who don’t deserve it anymore.  

    I suddenly want to start creating things again... building models, reading, photography... I’ve wanted to look into going back to school, but always dismissed the thought because the impulsive decisions I’ve made in my life never allowed me to do things for me.  Or, rather, I could have... If I had the self confidence and love for myself to want things for myself enough to push on.  Instead I’d do what I needed to do to keep my partner and my routine, even if it meant exhausting myself and forgetting what “relaxing” even felt like.  I could lay around all I wanted, but my brain wasn’t like a dog.  It wouldn’t sit or stay or anything else.  It did what it always did... Negative thoughts, obsess...obsess...obsess....

     When I’ve slept for 13 hours straight or spent a day doing absolutely nothing, I’m not being lazy.  My body isn’t tired.  My soul is.  But my levels must be okay because I like doing things again today.  The depression is gone, (for now.  I don’t expect to be happy forever, that isn’t realistic, nor should it be.) It’s very brief departure made me go and get medicated that day in 2015 saved my life, I think.  For a moment I cared about myself and wanted to try.  Something then must’ve given me hope.  What I had accepted before as character flaws that I was stuck with were really mental issues that I now see and understand and accept, and, better yet, now can manage properly.  The next step is getting diagnosed by a specialist (a second opinion), and perhaps talk to a therapist, (at least until my thoughts are sorted.)  

    I guess I’ll allow myself to research this a bit more before I go do something else.  Or maybe sleep... It is 12:17 AM and, while without anxiety and actually happy, I’m exhausted from how much deep soul-searching I’ve done the last 24 hours.  For the first time in as long as I can remember, I’m excited about life.  The thought of “I don’t want to die, I just don’t want to exist anymore” seems kinda insane to me right now.  There’s so much out there I haven’t seen or experienced yet.  Like so fucking much.  And well, I’m kinda cool.  I’m starting to like myself today.  I won’t say love... We’re just seeing how things go.  Baby steps.  One day at a time...

-AEL

[scallywag-papa]

It’s all too much (3/3)

requsted: kinda

word count: 1,090 (this is the longest fic ive ever written) 

warnings: sad peter,  tony is kinda...idk OOC? i hope not. 

Peter was dropped off by the Iron Man suit on a balcony of the Avengers compound in upstate New York.  Peter walked into the building.  He was met by a very pissed looking Tony Stark.

“Sit.” Tony said pointing to a chair. It was only once Peter had sat down Tony began to speak. “Kid what the HELL were you thinking?” Tony asked, voice distressed, yet full of concern. “You could’ve killed yourself, the ONLY reason I knew to come and get you was because of the suit. What’d you call her? Karen?” Stark questioned.

“Mr. Stark, I-” peter began but was cut off. “Why didn’t you contact Happy if you had a problem?” Tony had sat down across from Peter at this point.

“Happy doesn't listen to me, Mr. Stark. I needed your help I figured the only to get your attention was to do something dumb. Peter rambled. Tony rolled his eyes in the way only he can.

 “However right that may be,  you can't go around trying to kill yourself to get my help, don't be so dramatic.”  Tony digressed. “You need to understand I can't always be there and you aren't invincible, you could have gotten really hurt, Peter.” Tony took a breath, about to continue his lecture when he stopped and looked to Peter.

Peter sat across from him, Tony noticed Peter looked far more worse for wear than he had originally thought- or taken the time to notice. Tony and Peter sat in silence; Tony observing the young, fidgeting boy. Tony took a deep breath and began. “Wait a minute, you said you needed my help? What with? Tell me whats up. We both don't want a rerun of what happened the last time there was miscommunication.” Peter sighed, no-so-fondly remembering a few months ago when he fought one aviary villain.

“Mr. Stark, I-I know now that it seems silly but I just lost the girl of my dreams because i've been working so hard to impress you but you haven't given me any missions so I thought I wasn't doing good enough at being the Spider-Man.” Peter inhaled, rambling on like that took a lot out of a person, and he wasn't even done yet.

“Anyways, due to the fact I thought I wasn't good enough I pushed everything I had into being the Spider-Man as best I could and I forgot so, so many important things to go to. And  (Y/N) sweet, beautiful (Y/N) was being very patient with me but then I was late for like the HUNDREDTH time and she dumped me. “ Peter was on the verge of tears breath shaking, he knew this probably sounded to Mr. Stark like a child's plea, so silly and insignificant.

“Anyways I needed some advice on how to get (Y/N) back.” Peter begged . Tony chuckled, “Kid, why did you think I know how to give relationship advice?” The younger of the two looked crestfallen for a moment. “You got Pepper, and she's amazing! You must have some idea how you did that!” a desperate Peter finished.

Tony grinned from ear to ear, watching as the elevator door slid open. The sound of the elevator doors opening was soon followed by the sound of heels, and Peter Parker turned around to be greeted by none other than Pepper Potts herself. “Speak of the devil and she comes!” Tony exclaimed.

Five awkward minutes later Peter was leaving the avengers compound. Tony might not have been able to help him, but Pepper Potts was an expert on dealing with having an unaccountable boyfriend and knew just what to tell Peter. Honestly Peter was disappointed in himself for not thinking of it first. He just had to apologize from the heart and fix his mistakes instead of repeating them.

You were in your room, scrolling through your social media when you heard a knock on your door. You sighed, “come in” the door opened and your mother stepped through. “Hey sweetie, Peter is here, he has some flowers and says he’d like to apologize. Should I shoo him off?” your mom  asked half joking half serious. You rolled over, not really wanting to talk to Peter right now. You felt so bad breaking up with him but you had to let him know that you knew your own value, and were worth more than missed phone calls and ruined dates. On the other hand, you didn't want to seem like a jerk and make him leave when he had come to your house to apologize. You took a breath and nodded to your mom, “Yeah,” you looked at her. “Yeah shoo him off or yeah let him in?” your mom harassed you, a twinkle shone in her eye when you laughed at that. It was the first time she’d seen you laugh since that night. “Yeah let him in.” you verified.

Moments later Peter walked in looking nervous and holding daisies. Of course this loveable idiot would bring daisies instead of roses, he’d mentioned once that he’d thought roses were too overused and there were plenty other of beautiful flowers in the world. Before you could say hello he began. “Im very sorry (Y/N) i've been busy with the Stark internship and school and basically everything and I thought I could handle not being with you and respect your wishes to break up because i'm such an idiot, but good lord I cant stand not being with you. I like you so much I think I love you.” he’d said it so fast you almost didn't process it, but by the time you had he had started rambling again. “Please give me a second chance (Y/N) i’ll work so much harder on us instead of the internship, because I cannot imagine my life without you and I want so badly for you to at least forgive me if you don't want to take me back.” Peter inhaled, and you were silent. You stood slowly and enveloped him in a hug, he quickly dropped the daisies to return it. “Peter I will give you another chance, because I know you, and I know you will do your best this time around. Because, I would not be able to forgive myself if I ever made the mistake of letting you go twice.” you breathed into his shoulder. You backed up and looked at Peter, knowing that whatever lied ahead for the two of you, you would be able to overcome.