#noah kahan - call your mom

[ltbelanna]

call your mom // noah kahan

[lelif]

on getting better

?// ?// call your mom, noah kahan// letters to friends, family and editors, franz kafka// call your mom, noah kahan// september affirmation (Don’t Be Afraid), Keaton St. James (@boykeats) // @smuktvejr // ?// ?// 'east boston, 1996; night walk' in god's silence, franz wright// ending, jonny bolduc// listen, tara bray// the haunting of hill house, shirley jackson// little red cap, carol ann duffy// @daisies-on-a-cup// evermore, taylor swift// @angelwarm// long story short, taylor swift

[thekingofspin]

this has been me for the past month and im ok with that

[ourstaturestouchtheskies]

Image from The Annual Report of the New York State College of Agriculture at Cornell University and the Agricultural Experiment Station // Call Your Mom – Noah Kahan

[mysunshinetemptress]

Call Your Mom

Leah Williamson x reader

Warnings: talks of suicide please please know you are never alone

Tears streamed down your face, blurring the already distorted image in the mirror. It had been years since the suffocating darkness of suicidal thoughts had threatened to consume her. Back then, Leah had been your anchor, your lighthouse guiding you back to the shore. But lately, with the weight of the loan to Manchester City pressing down on you, a familiar coldness had begun to seep back in. The vibrant colours of your recent success with Man City seemed to have drained away, replaced by a suffocating grey.

you had convinced yourself it was just the stress of the new environment, a temporary blip. But tonight, the blip had morphed into a monstrous wave threatening to pull you under. The once vibrant colours of your apartment seemed muted, the silence deafening. The thought of reaching out to Leah, of tarnishing the happiness you'd built together, felt unbearable.

But as the racing thoughts spiraled, each one darker than the last, the fear became a raw, primal instinct.  Tears pricked at your eyes, blurring the digital clock on the nightstand. 3:12 am. Shame burned in your gut. How could she be feeling this way again, after all, Leah had done to pull her back from the brink .

 Leah's voice, even thick with sleep, was a lifeline.

You fumbled for your phone, the familiar warmth of the screen offering a flicker of comfort. Leah's name on the contact list taunted you. Reaching out felt like a betrayal, a regression. Yet, the darkness whispered terrifying thoughts, a relentless chorus you couldn't seem to silence.

With a shaky hand, you hit call. One ring. Two. Three. Just as you considered hanging up, Leah's drowsy voice filled the silence, even thick with sleep,  it was a lifeline.

"Y/n? Everything alright?"

You sucked in a breath unable to answer.

"Baby? Hey, what's wrong?" Leah's concern, though muffled by distance, sliced through the fog of despair. Shame threatened to choke you, but the words tumbled out, ragged and desperate. Leah listened patiently, her voice a soothing balm even across the miles.

"Stay on the phone, babe. I'm on my way."

You choked out a protest. "No, Le, it's too late, you..."

"Don't argue," Leah interrupted gently. "Four hours. I'll be there."

There was a brief moment of silence on the other end of the phone that was deafening. You squeezed your eyes shut, tears leaking past your lashes. "Le? Are....Are you still there?" you croaked, your voice thick with despair.

"Always," came Leah's unwavering reply, even through the static of the phone call. "Don't you even think about hanging up."

You knew Leah could hear the tremor in your voice, the raw vulnerability that sliced through years of carefully constructed walls. The move to Manchester had felt like a fresh start, a chance to prove yourself on a bigger stage away from the stacked bench of Arsenal. But the pressure had become a suffocating weight, and the initial excitement had morphed into a suffocating loneliness.

"It's stupid," You mumbled beginning to pick at the skin around your fingernails, hating the pathetic sound of your own voice. "I thought I was past this. But it just…it hit me tonight."

The four-hour drive was an agonizing eternity for both of you. You paced the apartment restlessly, the phone pressed tight to your ear, the silence punctuated by Leah's gentle reassurances and the rhythmic hum of the engine in the background.

The guilt gnawed at You as you began to feel guilty for calling Leah so late. "Leah, you don't have to do this," you whispered, your voice hoarse. "It's just me being a mess.....I'll.....I'll get over it."

"No," Leah's voice came resolute through the speaker. "This isn't just you. You're not alone in this, i'm not letting you do this alone not tonight not ever."

The dam broke then. You confessed everything - the creeping despair, the fear of disappointing your Mom,  god your mom was the only one you had growing up and the only child to a single parent, she had sacrificed everything for you and now here you were wanting to end the life she had given you, the life she had sacrificed so so much for."Oh my god Le, My Mom I don't...I can't" Leah listened without judgment, her unwavering support a beacon in the storm.

"She'd be disappointed," You mumbled, "that I'm not... stronger."

You choked back a sob. the thought of dragging Leah into it was unbearable, of your Mom "I can't let Mom know," you whispered, your voice tight with fear. "She thinks I'm… I'm better now. She'd be so disappointed.....Le she...she gave up everything and I...oh god...I just want to through it all away." Leah didn't know what to do.

"Y/n," Leah said, her voice firm, "being strong doesn't mean bottling things up. It means reaching out for help when you need it. We'll face this together, okay?"

You shook your head unable to answer.

Leah sighed, the sound travelling through the phone line. "Your mom would want you to be happy and healthy, Y/n. She would understand you can't keep this bottled up it won't help. I'll call her, I'll explain everything and I already know she will be so proud you called me instead of struggling alone ok, so hold on and I'll call your mom ?"

The suggestion hung in the air. The thought of facing your mother's concern, of potentially shattering the fragile image of your recovery, terrified you. But the alternative - the terrifying chasm of despair that had threatened to engulf you - was even scarier.

Taking a shaky breath, You finally conceded. "Please," You whispered, the first flicker of hope igniting in your chest. "Please can you call her?"

Leah sighed in relief sipping in "Of course baby, as soon as I get to you I'll call her ok?" You let out a hum letting Leah know you heard her.

Through the night, Leah's voice became a lifeline. You talked for hours, about everything and nothing, about the weather in Manchester, Leah's upcoming game, and the silly things you both used to laugh about back in your younger days. With each passing minute, the frantic edge in your voice softened. The dawn broke just as you finished reminiscing about a particularly chaotic prank you'd pulled on a teammate in your youth.

Exhausted but with a fragile sense of calm settling over you, you looked at the phone screen. Leah's location showed she was somewhere near Birmingham now.

"Leah," You began, a nervous tremor in your voice, "you really don't have to come all this way."

"Nonsense," Leah interrupted, her voice full of determination. "I wouldn't be anywhere else. I told you we'll face this together, okay?"

By the time Leah arrived, the first rays of dawn were painting the sky a soft pink. Relief washed over you as you pulled Leah tightly into a hug, the familiar scent of your girlfriend a potent reminder of the love and support that still surrounded you.

"We'll get through this together," Leah whispered, her arms wrapped securely around You, slightly scared to let you go. "Come on let's get you to bed and then I'll call your mom," she added, her voice firm.

[fiveredlights]

It’s a fucking awful sunrise the next morning.

They couldn’t check the weather, Michelle had paid off Issac and Izzy to steal it from them the second they walked into the house, so they half heartedly argued for a bit what was considered sunrise time—5:45 am apparently—and that was that. The alarm clock woke them up, and left the house bundled in warm clothes for an uncharacteristically cold spring morning.

Grace had offered Matilda Bay as their spot. A stretch of grass that sits opposite the Perth skyline, the river in between. There are tall gumtrees littered along the shoreline, and Max steers them to one furthest away from the public eye.

It’s just them here. Bark, digging into the skin of his back. The damp dirt, where he sits. Daniel, the heavy, solid, unmoving weight in his hand.

“This is a really shit sunrise,” Daniel mumbles into his shoulder. He’s curled away, in between Max’s legs where they make a V-shape. Daniel’s knees dig into his right thigh, and has tucked his head into the crook between Max’s neck and shoulder.

He’s not even sure he could call it a sunrise. It’s overcast, the grey clouds are spread out as far as the eye can see. There is sun, but it shines from behind the clouds. The light from it slowly rises with time, but it’s barely noticeable.

Max hums quietly in response, tracing stars above his hip. “I think there’s going to be a couple of bad sunrises,” he says softly. “But there will be good ones again. Maybe not right now, or next week. But there will be good ones again.”

“We should come back here.” Daniel pushes himself up and shuffles until all Max is seeing is Daniel.

It’s always been Daniel, Daniel, Daniel.

“We should come back here,” he repeats, snaking his hand up to the base of Max’s neck, threading Max’s hair through his fingering ers. “When the sunrises are good again.”

Max leans forward and kisses his curls. Kisses his forehead. Kisses the corner of his eyes. Kisses the hook of his nose. Kisses his lips. Kisses everywhere he can, hopes that each one will resemble any semblance of peace Daniel so desperately deserves.

“It’ll be good,” Max whispers in between their lips as they pull back slowly. “It’ll be good again.”

[calamitoustide]

But Please Stay

Please Stay - Lucy Dacus/Calamitoustide/Call Your Mom - Noah Kahan/Unknown/Unknown/Please Stay - Lucy Dacus/Beautiful Boy (2018)/Please Stay - Lucy Dacus/Ketchum ID - Boygenius/Please Stay - Lucy Dacus/The Dead Poet's Society (1989)/Calamitoustide/unknown/unknown/Call Your Mom - Noah Kahan/Please Stay - Lucy Dacus/Forever Winter - Taylor Swift/The Dead Poet's Society (1989)/Calamitoustide/Please Stay - Lucy Dacus

[partiallypearl]

don't wanna drive another mile without knowin' you're breathin'. so won't you stay, won't you stay, won't you stay with me?

[jakeperalta]

when i listen to noah kahan it's like unlocking shrimp colours except emotions instead of colours

[heich0e]

GOJO FIC 👂🏻👂🏻👂🏻

(tw: mental health and suicide mention)

i'm not gonna write it, so i will tell u what the plot is, but basically it's reader and gojo in an in-patient mental health treatment facility. the two don't really get along, because gojo is just a bit too... blithe about the whole thing—too outspoken and upbeat considering the circumstances.

gojo is a long-term resident, having been there longer than most of the other patients, and this is elective treatment, meaning he (and reader) can leave at any time—but for whatever reason this guy is staying, and reader doesn't trust or like him upon first meeting because she can't figure him out. over time, reader realizes that his personality is largely a facade he puts up to keep people away—not that it's particularly hard. he only ever has one visitor, shoko, and even then she never stays for very long on her infrequent appearances at the facility (and satoru usually locks himself in his room for a full day after she comes to see him, only to reappear like nothing ever happened.) no family ever stops by. no other friends. it's just him, and those sunglasses, and that smile that always feels a little bit like it's about to break at the edges.

at the end of the fic it's revealed gojo checked himself into treatment because geto was a patient there, but suguru killed himself shortly after he got out. satoru has pretty much been there ever since, because in his grief he needed to see what the last months of suguru's life were like—and now he can't leave because if he does that means he has to face a world without him.

reader and gojo have a breakthrough moment where finally satoru admits to this. it starts as an argument but they both know that neither of them are really angry at the other. they're just... angry at their circumstances. or the fact that they're hurting. and eventually satoru admits that he's scared to leave because he doesn't know how to live without suguru. and reader just tells him that no one really knows how to live and they're just doing their best, maybe even jokes that maybe if he actually listened in any of their group therapy sessions he'd already know that. and then he cries. and so does reader.

the next day reader wakes up and finds out that he's checked himself out of treatment and left without a word. the end.

[person4924]

medicate

meditate

save your soul for jesus

throw a punch

fall in love

give yourself a reason

quit your job

cut your hair

get a dog

change your name

change your mind

change your ways

go back to school

go back to sleep

tell the secret you can’t keep

break a vow

make a new one [vow]

but please stay

[chryseiswriting-blog]

“Medicate, Meditate,

Swear your soul to Jesus.

Throw a punch,

Fall in Love,

Give yourself a reason.”

A cool evening breeze.

Rainbows.

Open Roads.

Friends

[heavybreathingswift]

Noah Kahan writes songs for the girls who allowed their passive anger to slowly fill up their entire existence until they went blind with it

[und-dann-war-es-fast-gut]

„Wofür wolltest du dann nach Köln… ihn die ganze Zeit angucken?“

…ist das etwa keine normale Aktivität?

[excuse-me-thanks]

this sucks i’m going to [remembers suicide jokes are not helpful] throw a punch, fall in love, give myself a reason

[gwendolynnderolo]

who else is up sobbing at stick season deluxe edition this lovely evening