#maybe I will delete this post I feel like I talked to much

[brinasheqrt]

Overthinking

pairings - sabrina carpenter x fem!reader

wc - 1.7k

warnings - mild angst, spiralling(?)

You tell yourself it’s fine. That people get busy. That performers on international tours probably don’t have the time to FaceTime their girlfriends every day. Or even every other day.

But when it becomes seven days—seven—with no call, not even a half-asleep voice note or a badly typed “love u,” something shifts. And your brain, ever the dramatic little gremlin that it is, decides to do what it does best:

Panic.

You’re not mad. That would be easier, cleaner, safer. You’re something worse. You’re convinced she’s slipping away.

It starts subtly, in the quiet moments.

You look at your phone a little too often. Open your messages just to stare at the last one she sent—a red heart, a week ago, after her Madrid show. You imagine her typing it fast, distracted. Maybe half-smiling. Maybe not.

Then you check her Instagram.

Bad move. Always a bad move.

She looks radiant, of course. She always does. New post from Berlin: her on stage, glitter under her eyes, hand reaching toward a sea of lights. Caption: “thank u for making my dreams real.”

Nothing about missing home. Nothing about missing you.

And that’s when your mind kicks into high gear.

Maybe she’s grown out of this. Maybe you were a good in-between. A soft place to land before the next chapter started. You, with your overthinking and your silent panics and your inability to just chill.

You hate how quickly you spiral, but there’s no stopping it now.

You sink into the couch and stare at the wall like it might blink first. It doesn’t. It’s blank. Still. Just like your phone.

You start replaying every conversation from the last few weeks. Was she distant last time you talked? Did she rush off the call? Did she sound bored? Did she stop saying “I love you” with that softness in her voice?

You remember the last call. She was in bed, face barely lit by her phone screen, eyes heavy. She smiled at you. Said she missed your voice. Said she wished you were next to her.

But maybe she didn’t mean it. Maybe she was just tired and saying what she thought you wanted to hear. Maybe the tour, the crowd, the adrenaline—it’s all more alive than you are to her now.

You’re not fun. You don’t dance like her backup singers or laugh at the right moments in interviews. You’re just here, in a quiet apartment, too many time zones away, loving her like it’s a full-time job.

Maybe that’s too much.

Maybe she needs something lighter.

You lie down sideways on the couch, blanket wrapped around you like armor. Your stomach hurts. Your chest is tight in that way it gets when your feelings outgrow your body and start pressing against your ribs, like they’re trying to break out.

You tell yourself you’re being dramatic. But that doesn’t help.

You wonder if she’s met someone new. Someone who understands the chaos of tour life. Someone beautiful and magnetic and not lying on a couch somewhere, crying into a hoodie that smells like her perfume.

You try to text her. Delete it. Try again.

You settle on: “Hey. Hope tour’s going okay.”

But you don’t send it.

It feels weak. Or maybe you do.

You end up typing and deleting so many times that your fingers go numb.

Eventually, you just stare at the wall again. White. Quiet. Unchanging.

It’s weird how loud a blank space can be.

You think about your life.

About how you used to be fine before her. Not happy, necessarily, but stable. Safe in your routines. And now? She’s rewired your entire nervous system and you don’t even know if she remembers to miss you anymore.

You think about all the people who say, “If they love you, you’ll know.”

You did know. At first. Every call, every kiss, every sleepy “baby, I don’t wanna hang up yet.” It was so clear. You never had to ask. Never had to wonder.

But now?

Now you feel like a question she hasn’t answered in days.

The wall still doesn’t move.

Neither do you.

You fall asleep at some point—restless, dreamless, curled in on yourself like a bruise.

And then your phone buzzes.

It’s 2:17 a.m.

Unknown number.

Your heart stops. Then jumps.

Voicemail.

Sabrina.

Your fingers shake as you hit play.

“Hey. Hi. Um… okay. I suck.”

She laughs, breathless and soft. The kind of laugh that only comes after running or crying or both.

“I’ve been trying to call all day and it just… didn’t happen. We had back-to-back shows and the WiFi’s garbage and my voice is gone and I miss you so much I almost cried during soundcheck.”

A pause. A long, shaky inhale.

“I know what your brain’s probably doing right now. You’re spiraling, aren’t you?”

You exhale sharply. God. She knows you.

“I hate that I let it get to this point. I hate that I disappeared. I didn’t mean to. I just—I didn’t want to call you when I only had five minutes. I wanted to really talk. But five minutes became a day, and then the days stacked up, and now it’s been a week and you probably think I don’t care.”

Another pause. Softer this time.

“I care. I love you. I love you so much it’s actually ridiculous. I’ve been falling asleep thinking about your voice, your face, the way you roll your eyes when I leave dishes in the sink.”

You smile, tears burning behind your eyes.

“I haven’t stopped loving you. Not even for a second. I just forgot how loud silence can sound when someone’s waiting on the other end.”

Her voice cracks a little.

“Please don’t let your mind tell you you’re too much. You’re perfectly much. You’re my favorite overthinker. My favorite everything.”

She exhales. “Okay, I have to go. But I’m gonna call again tomorrow. For real. We’ll talk as long as you want. Or say nothing. Whatever you need. I just… I love you. So much.”

The message ends.

And you just sit there. Staring at your phone.

The wall’s still there. Still blank. But somehow, it feels less cruel now.

You wrap the blanket tighter, curl up on the couch again, and let yourself cry.

Not because you’re broken. Not because you’re panicking.

But because someone who loves you knows what your brain does, and calls anyway.

⸻

[ask-icedouma]

lil update + irl stuffs ヽ(´□｀。)ﾉ

Sorry that mod hasn't been active as of late, I have been kinda in a slum lately. I have no guarantee when I'll answer questions consistently but mod really appreciates that you guys still enjoy this blog.

I haven't been doing well irl as of late because of my long time depression (ongoing for +15ish years wild) and because of this I've been failing my studies a lot. As of late I'm finally getting a little help as of going to my very first official therapy session.

I said official because most of the time I've only gone to temples. My family has been believing that I've been possessed by evil spirits my whole life and its pretty annoying. Tho I'm also sure that this is something common with our religious believes so I don't fully blame them. I've been trying and begging them to bring me to one for the longest time and it's finally happening! I don't know if it will help this time but it's some progress I'm willing to take.

Also! I feel sorry somehow for not interacting much. I've been wishing to talk to some of you/mutuals to get stuff of my mind or just talk about silly stuff but because most of you are writers I'm too intimidated sadgfhj if only I was literate *fist clenching and sulking*

Lastly here's some pictures of derpy Douma for reaching the end of this post.

[nabaath-areng]

I feel like a terrified animal on Bluesky and I just found out you can't make your profile private so WELP

[willczek-art]

D&D LMoP doodles! 👀✨

[pcktknife]

going on instagram fr makes me feel like I'm haunted by ghosts

[midnightwind]

I want to go back to the time where I thought each faction got a little quest line just for them based on which you started as

[non-un-topo]

Just got a wave of affection for my horse OCs... as in, the random horses that appear in my fics

[deerest-deer]

thinking really hard about logging into my old tumblr acc after being gone for like a year and a half cause i stumbled upon a post that led me to my old mutuals and i teared up a lil </3 but also i feel so ashamed i left without saying a word to anyone aaaa

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

does anyone have happy positive recommendations for things i can watch/listen to/put on in the backgrounddd

[lucifer-kane]

i'm in my head about things that happened in fuckin. 2020. again. and i think that if you say 'we've had problems with this person before' but you never talk to that person about said 'problems' then i really don't know how to feel. i admit i can get a bit Much and i knoooow i'm the autistic that is crossing the line of unfavorable in certain aspects. but the fact i was never talked to about things baffled me. it would have been nice to have one of the people in charge actually contact me and say something.

[velvetjune]

incredible to think that Alan Wake 2’s existence itself implies that maybe it’ll be about Alan finally leaving the dark place, directly solving the cliffhanger of Alan Wake 1, but instead now Saga, Casey, Rose, Tim, Alice, and (still) Alan are in the Dark Place. Genius subversion of expectations

[nobodybetterlookatme]

I've been working more events lately and I keep getting paired with one specific medic and some of my other coworkers told me that it's bc he's an asshole and everyone else hates working with him and apparently all his attempts at being a jerk to me have flown right over my head and I've therefore had no complaints so that's why my supervisor keeps partnering us up 😂😭

[shdwtouch]

my mood / energy kinda tanked. just feeling meh :/ it's either adrenaline crash or overstimulation, idk. so imma take my meds and try to sleep. nini all ♡

[jorvikzelda]

it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts

[elisedonut]

sudden itch to write a rare pair fic thats not Percy related

but like

the last time I did that it ended up becoming my top fic and lead to me deciding that you know... actually I hate that ship just out of spite so i'm not sure how good of an idea it is

maybe if i try like femslash or something super super rare with side characters or something

[tokyoteddywolf]

22 isn't very much at all, I think.