#one of the worst feelings is feeling lonely 😔

[hyunpic]

hyunie 😔😣😣💔

[ohbabydollie]

I feel there’s a total lack of long distance relationship content for schlatt, so I was wondering if I could get a long distance relationship between schlatt and reader where Schlatt lives in Austin Texas while reader still lives near or in New York and can’t move because they’re going to college in the city.

he is so upset by this but understands that school is your priority

he hates the feeling of loneliness and being without you

it hurts him so bad but he can get by on video calls, texts, etc.

loves the holiday season bc it gives him an excuse to go visit

loves when you get breaks bc that means you can visit him

he also plays for your flights

picks you up from the airport with a sign like “back from rehab! 30 days clean from meth!!” and the worst photo of you he can find

tends to send you/door dash you things

like if you tell him you’ve been craving a certain snack or food, he has it sent to you

he sends you flowers, snacks, etc. through doordash from time to time if you ever seem like you need it

even if you don’t ask for it

“date nights” consist of you two finding shitty movies and watching it on discord together

he actively tells you to go ahead and go out but you’d much rather stay in your dorm on call with him

discord e sex 😔/j

no but fr, facetime sex for him only, he hates that he has to get by on it but is willing to take it

(this was sent in before schlatt announced he was moving back btw) once his lease is up, he finds nice apartments near your college and doesn’t tell you he’s going back until he’s moved in

he just comes to your dorm one day with flowers and tells you he’s back and has you move in with him once the school year is over

celebratory sex when he’s back!

first dinner together moved in sex, first time back in the same bed in forever sex, first time sleeping together in the same bed again sex, any sort of sex he can think of

can’t blame him, mans was getting lonely

—

he slowly kissed you, gently groping at your ass as you straddled him, occasionally pulling you tighter against him.

“god i missed ya so fuckin’ much” he softly murmurs

“missed you too” you say softly, arms wrapped around his neck

“fuck” he says kissing you again, this time deeper and more intimate, “im gonna fuck ya on every fuckin surface of this damn apartment”

[cutieeva]

Oh shit ! I truly thought that (Y/N) has gone mad but it wasn't that way when I read the second episode !! 😔😔 I am sad for girly yet excited to read the next that's why please please please update fast 😘😘 (Also I love your writing, officially in love with you)

Bullied

Female Reader

Warnings : Bullying. Violence.

⌜ Thank you dearie for loving my art of writing, it never fails to makes me happy and here an belated update. ⌟

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

Loving someone itself is an act of selfish so why is leaving the relationship seen so heinous ? Sometimes one's own sake of happiness is needed more than another's if fallen out of love. The sooner (Y/N) understand the better.

"What is going on in that table ?"

"Is the girl okay ?"

"Why is she making a big deal about all ?"

"He is such a lovely boy yet she is so nasty accusing him for cheating ?"

"If I had a boyfriend like that I would die from happiness".

"He should break up with her".

"She seem toxic".

"(Y/N) ! Stop it and get up". Sophia's irritated voice reach her ears and (Y/N) couldn't help but feel all is jumbled. All is unclear. All is numb because does her suffering doesn't matter ? Yes, perhaps she is overreacting yet is it her fault when he was the one to lie about everything ?

Slowly her (E/C) eyes met Sophia's and other accountances she calls friends and her heart dropped.

Her pale face in snarl.

Other's cheeks red from thoroughly shame.

Another can't even share a glance at her.

The beautiful woman standing in awkward.

The guests are whispering, increasingly harsh, scary and the workers worried.

And lastly Cameron, stood looking hurt. In pain than she was and all her beliefs, reality begin distorting.

Is she a nuisance ?

Is she really overreacting over everything like others ?

Is she the one in wrong for not trusting him ?

Is being dated on bet and built an relationship on lies is alright as long as the faulty party apologize ?

If once the trust she believes was broken in the worst way, then is she the one to create drama ?

Are lies not serious ?

Do lies have little meaning ? Is playing with someone else's feeling is a small price for a relationship she didn't even realize ?

Is she overreacting ? "Am I overreacting ?" Despite people surround her, her own few people even the boyfriend she loved once yet why she suddenly feels so alone ? Lonely ? And hopeless ?

Daze with piling doubts and thousand pairs of eyes watching her, her hand yanked by Cameron. "I am sorry, I apologize for the scene". Smiling like a good man he hold her shoulder and walk her limp body to his car he drove.

In the entirety none dare break the ice in air while Cameron was in disappointment, (Y/N) in utter confusion. All she discover is that she has fall out of love, maybe from the moment he said 'I am now' in front of the men along losing herself. For the fear to let go she latched onto him, gifting him the second chance only to realize her suspicious, love turn into anger and anger form an hatred. An hatred she didn't knew. An hatred so deep she was unable to see his goodness anymore only searching faults.

Her entire being of happy, blunt, forgiving shaped into such a stranger her own eyes have harder to see from the clear fog. She shaped into a vicious, incredulous person. A person she never even dreamed to become.

"Get off". Cameron's that soft, smooth voice rip her from the creeping shadows of words inside her mind and her haze gaze glance to find herself house. His home they decide to turn into their love nest.

Sliding down from the car, she walked towards the lift without waiting for him to follow and press the cold metal button. Her eyes dried from the tears that caught her reflection in the shining metal and she couldn't help find the dark circles weight heavy under her eyes, rim edges red and hair— a mess with barely appropriate clothes on. She looks nothing alike the neat, fresh (Y/N).

She looks wasted, used and worn off self— the door of the lifts snap her out again, she blink twice before stepping in properly. Their floor came faster than she expect and the moment the doorknob twist open. She close her eyes ready to be face with angry lashing, words like knives twisting her guts yet none came.

Rather he remove his coat, wash his hands and smile. "What shall we eat then ?"

She merely stare at him.

He continue to smile. The smile she doesn't find warming, sweet.

"Maybe something different. Like Pollo al Ajillo, in English known as Garlic Chicken ? Hmm ?" A single word didn't slip her lips, standing at her roots.

And without her reply he decided. She watched him not moving her an inch cooking, smiling like a normal couple. Minutes bled into hours and little to no care he serve the food, finally ripping her from her roots and sat her beside him.

Stomach churn in no hunger and eyes burden to open, she look at him. "Let's take a break". The metal spoon his fingers held pause, his smile creased.

"I-I need spac—".

"You don't". He cut off smoothly. His smile wider to it's length than before and the spoon between his fingers lay on the wooden table. "I know what happen today was a little overboard but do not worry. It was my fault after all and it's alright. I forgive you". Soft his eyes he push the plate of food to her, an gesture to eat.

However she couldn't. Her eyes couldn't rip from the oblivious face, acting all normal, when nothing is. Nothing is normal. Their relationship is falling apart, their love draft from one another and trust long out of the picture.

He so easily utter his denial. She doesn't need space, perhaps she doesn't but wouldn't he at least ask the reason behind ? Even if it's known still ask and not play the game of pretend. It's exhausting because they are a real couple not actors in a play.

"Would you not ask me why ?" Her voice in end crack.

"Would it make a difference ?"

"Yes, a lot". Honestly she shares, it will help her a lot to understand the real Cameron, the one who she fell for or the one she saw when the illusion shatter.

He turn his head to her. "We are doing alright. It will be fine. Look am I not improving myself ?" No, she only sees him now complying to her wishes easily.

"I need space". She look away, his face reminding her of those cherish days. "We both need space". She finished, adamant on seperating even if it's for a moment she wants to breath, the tightness on her chest is too much and the alarming mistrust.

Once a pot is broken, even with the finest potter's hands can't fix the remained lines of past.

"Okay". To her surprise he agreed "I see, you need time to cool your head". With that he stood up and went to their shared bedroom leaving her and the cold food behind.

Her finger hold the spoon to take a bite of the dish however few inches from her lips she pause. Staring at the food and can't help but cry of unable to eat at the end. Merely thinking how without waiting for her choice, he cooked the food, only giving an illusion of choices.

☾

When one announce their break up. People's first reaction is : 

"Did he cheat ?"

"Did you cheat ?"

"Is he abusive ?"

"Manipulative ?"

"Controlling ?"

"A bet". (Y/N) would say. "I was a bet he was dared to date and in process he fell for me but he always treated not less than a princess and after I found out he begged, confessed his love. From then he always is perfect. Even ignoring my overreaction". All the voices stopped altogether. The harsh, doubtful all pause because in this picture nothing is wrong apart from the fact he was a liar, who lied and fixed himself for better. He really did but can it patch the wounds of her shattered faith in him ?

People always say second chance can change lives, do wonders and in her she saw. She can see why they give second chances yet she can't bring herself to love anymore. She is angry, stuck on the phrase where all laughed at her like a clown, whispering, betting for how long would she last.

Was she a human or a puppet ? He never defended her, he never share his thoughts with her. She doesn't even know him anymore. She really really is lost.

Even walking towards the metal gates of university seem heavy, scary. Her mind already twisted her vision of people laughing, hating her. Being the center of attention she so wants to be away from. Her (E/C) eyes glance around walking to her class recalling not to stumble upon them or him. She is enough exhausted. She doesn't need more.

BANG! She flinched, her nerves jolting.

BANG! Her eyelids snapped shut, shielding herself from the brutality.

BANG! The sound of flesh colliding with metal reverberated through her ears, leaving a buzzing ache. A human body, crumpling like a rag doll.

"Poor him. He should quit or complain". Not so subtle whispers like flicker of fire circle around, reaching her ears.

"Shouldn't he die at this rate ?" Cruel.

"What a bore. Really ? Everyday ? Isn't it such a nuisance—". Cruel. So, so cruel. Just because a person can't help himself doesn't give these people the chance to pity him. To paint him— the victim the cause of his own suffering. His silence was twisted into consent, his helplessness fuel for their merciless ridicule.

Cruel. Cruel. Cruel. Cruel. Laughter like devilish cackles echoed, faces feigning sympathy, eyes gleaming with fox-like innocence. Cowardly souls, masking their true nature.

She, too, wore a mask, hypocrisy veiling her own darkness.

That's why in a blink of an eye. Her once neat clean palm painted in crimson, stretch of iron reeking the air, painful grunts and horried screams and distorted yells is making no sense to her. She can't understand the aching in her palm, the cries of the familiar boy's underneath her, chanting of word fight and her own tears rolling down.

"Fight. Fight. Fright. Fright". The crowd roar fueling her more and more and more. Why are they encouraging ? Yet why does it feel like she is revelling in it ?

"(Y/N) ! Stop beating Adrian". Oh. Her palms ache because she is punching his face, painted in crimson because it's his blood, cries belong to Adrian who lay beneath her helpless like that boy he was seconds ago using as a ragdoll.

How wonderful.

She can't stop. She punch and punch and punch and punch uttering only three words. "I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry". Not to the bully— no never to Adrian. Never to the boy who is violent to innocent. It's to the victim, to the unknown jester of everyone's joke. For Everyone's play. For the system that enable Adrian's cruelty into fun.

She is sorry for blind. She is sorry for foolish. She is sorry for being coward. She is sorry for ignoring him. She is sorry for wearing mask of pretense herself. She is sorry for falling into the lies of Cameron. She is sorry for saying yes to his proposal. She is sorry for overreacting. She is sorry for suspecting. She is sorry for losing trust. She is sorry for not being happy with a perfect boyfriend.

She is sorry for fell in love.

She is sorry for.....everything.

To herself.

To everything.

☾

Dry tears stain her (S/C) cheeks as in empty space she stare, leaning on the chair in front of director's office. The woman's words faded into background noise, inaudible over the cacophony of her thoughts.

Her mind replayed the chaos: the frantic struggle, the flash of anger, the blur of fists. She couldn't recall who intervened, pulling her back from the brink of destruction. By then, he had already crumpled, unconscious. Her tangled hair bore witness to the scuffle, matted from the grasping hands of his minions, few blood dotted her blue jeans, a crimson constellation from her own nose. Her torn t-shirt hung askew, shoulder exposed while he— lay worse. Broken. Lifeless almost.

Yet no remorse stirred in her stomach, surprisingly. Instead, a lingering sense of justification lingered, eclipsed only by the anguish she felt for the victim. The one she had been compelled to defend, driven by a primal urge to protect she only dreamed.

"(Y/N), can you hear me?" The director's voice cut through the tension. "Do you comprehend the gravity of your situation? You're at risk of expelled !" An humorless laugh almost slip from (Y/N).

Expelled for what ? Punching a deserving scum to death while he punch an innocent boy to death when his skin wasn't even healed from the stitches of wounds Adrian left on him ?

(E/C) eyes stare at the female director who's blue glossy eyes stare at (Y/N) like she was a demon of chao when in her view, the real corrupt could be the adult, this lady who blind these physical, emotion abuse. Pain so small like (Y/N)'s bet and huge imprinting like that boy's scars for eternal to remember. Become something that etched in their memories, their experiences, though grave and painful, would be reduced to cautionary stories, diluted by time and retelling. The true weight of their suffering would remain unspoken, lost amidst the faint whispers of a forgotten past.

The tense standoff ended when the director's blue eyes darted past (Y/N), as if catching something She sighed audibly, her expression softening. "Get out. Reflect on your actions and the reasons for your two-week suspension. Expulsion is off the table." She mused confusing (Y/N)'s daze self a little and when she stood up, walking out of the room.

She understand meeting his concern eyes. Her boyfriend must have used his power.

Cameron swallowed under her intense gaze, part his lips to say when she continue to walk, aware of the pain in her body suddenly.

Alone in the empty hallway, she felt a fleeting sense of peace, liberated from the weight of others' judgments. Her footsteps echoed off the walls as she moved, ghost-like. Her eyes drifted to the scattered belongings on the floor, remnants of the chaos. She bent to gather them, her movements slow and deliberate.

A sudden twinge of pain shot through her knee as she crouched. (Y/N) winced, noticing the cut, a crimson gash on her pale skin. She gingerly touched the wound, her fingers tracing the tender edge. This time she felt like crying with clarity, like she knew what she was crying for along a need. Tears swell within her (E/C) eyes waiting to fall.

"It will hurt more if you cry". Calmly she gaze beside her. To the lockers where the boy slumped, his face still smeared with blood. The indifference surrounding him was palpable, as if no one cared about his suffering. (Y/N) press her lips, pulling a white handkerchief to hand him.

He accepted the handkerchief, his fingers brushing against hers. With gentle movements, he wiped the blood from his face, revealing a canvas of bruises and wounds beneath. For the first time, (Y/N) saw his true complexion – pale, with a hint of rosy undertones. The vibrant hues of his injuries – purple, blue, and crimson – stood in stark contrast to his delicate skin.

As the blood was wiped away, his features emerged, and (Y/N) noticed the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the gentle curve of his nose, and the softness of his lips.

"I am sorry". It fell out before she could revise or add.

"Don't be". He shake his head. "Everyone's coward. Even me". (Y/N) desire to protest of his own situation.

"I am talking about you". She blink. "You are Cameron's girlfriend". He utter like a fact. "All business major knew about a bet on a girl. They just didn't knew who until one of Cameron's friend told about your relationship making everyone realize who she is but wasn't sure". Her breath hitched. So they did. All did.

"I too, because I am from business major. Yet I was a coward to not say the truth or at least..." He tailed off. "Warn you". He finished heavy silence weight the air. (Y/N) inhale, not finding words to explain the mess of feelings she is having. Indeed both were jester of everyone's joke.

As she scoffed, her gaze trailed his movements, expecting him to walk away. But instead, he swooped down, his lithe frame folding into a crouch beside her. His amber eyes locked onto her knee, the cut a tiny, crimson gash.

Without a word, he reached out, his fingertips grazing her skin as he applied a band-aid. A shiver danced up her spine at the gentle touch.

"You know you're also being bullied?" His voice was low, concerned. Her eyes lift to his focused ones on her cut, whispering a "No".

"Bullying is not only physical you know. It can be emotional too. And what is happening to you is bullying too. An emotional one where he took advantage of your trust, then play with your feelings, manipulate you into staying in the relationship when you clearly in daze of the complexity and not in right state. If he truly cared about you, wouldn't he have asked how you felt or given you the space to think? Wouldn't he have prioritized your well-being over his own desires? But instead, he rushed you into this relationship, disregarding your boundaries and emotions". His words felt like sting of bees she couldn't process as the image of Cameron's pained face when she accused of him cheating in front of others.

His pure happiness when he pull the chair for her in front of her parents.

His patience when she was crying so suddenly and at the restaurant.

Her colleagues Sofia and others disturbed faces and harsh whispers.

"No. No. He is not perfect, yes. He is not good entirely. He is a liar but he improved. It is I who has problem. I fall out of love, mistrust him and..." Her throat felt dry to speak and she swallowed having difficulty seeing. The problem lies in her. She is the odd, fallen one.

The boy finally gaze his amber eyes and said. "If Cameron really is a good person. Not perfect, good. Then why in the first place are you lashing out and angrily pushing your anger on Adrian ? And in a mess mindset ?" It left (Y/N) shunned. Because truly did she blames Cameron for her misery. Hates him for his mockery of perfection. However never did she blame him for his entanglement to this relationship based on lies for her was truth.

"Let's assume Cameron is a good person who genuinely cares for you and loves you deeply, but isn't able to let you go. However, if being with him no longer brings you happiness— not because of his flaws, but because your feelings have changed and you're staying solely out of guilt or obligation, don't you think it's time to reevaluate? For your own sake, shouldn't you prioritize your happiness even if it's selfishness ?"

As he stood, dusting off his pants, (Y/N) lifted her gaze to meet his. His eyes held a gentle intensity. "After all, loving someone is, in itself, a selfish act," he added, his voice low and thoughtful.

"I am saying this because you came out of your cowardness for me and I for you". the boy said, wincing as he gingerly touched his jaw. "I should get to the nurse," he added, his voice laced with discomfort.

She swiftly stood up, her hand brushing against his arm with an awkward yet tender touch. "Let me help."

"No, it's okay..." He trailed off, his mind reeling as a wave of dizziness washed over him. His legs weakened, and he swayed precariously, almost toppling over.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened in alarm as she swiftly grasped his arms, her grip tight.

𝑻𝒐 𝑩𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒅

☾ ────────

[slu7formen]

HEY HEHEGE IK I JUST SENT IN A REQUEST but can i pretty please have another slytherin reader x ced sickfic😭😭😭😔😔😔 this cold is kicking my ass rn i need ced to take care of me��� how bout if the reader is like stubborn denying she’s sick but ced is a casual dom taking care of her and reader just complies when he gives her the stern look😫😫 and he’s worried sick not letting her out of bed n stuff omg i want someone to scold me for being sick ffs im lonely as hell. also thank you sm for the last request i made you r a godsend🥰🥰

also can i know what to call you pls i feel rather awkward calling you, well, you. love you tho 💋💋 i’m confident im ur biggest fan if there’s no appreciater of ur work then im probably dead in a ditch somewhere

you’re always requesting and I think that’s just so sweet 🥹 thank u ! also, had so much fun writing this.

Cedric taking care of you when you’re sick <3

slu7formen’s masterlist | cedric diggory masterlist

Sometimes Cedric hated how stubborn you were. Like, really, he truly felt that you behaved like a child that tried to get everything their own way and everything else was just wrong.

He noticed. It was not fucking hard to notice that you were about to catch the worst flu of your life; you looked so sick you could easily be mistaken for someone who was dragon pox. Your sore throat, the pain in your chest, the phlegm in your chest when you coughed, and the sneezing. And still, you were bold enough to lie to his face.

“I’m fine” you affirmed, followed by a small sneeze. Cedric raised his eyebrows at you, you rolled your eyes. “Seriously, it’s nothing”

“It’s nothing?” Cedric raised his voice, looking at you in disbelief. “Honey, you can’t even talk without choking in your own phlegm”

“Don’t overreact” you bit back. “I said I’m fine”

He didn’t want to fight. Whenever you did, it was because most of the time, you behaved like the most stubborn person ever… but he just relaxed. Maybe you could get better, maybe you were right this time.

Of course you weren’t right. Do you really believe that you’re ever gonna prove Cedric wrong?

The next morning your body was hurting, swollen and sore everywhere and constantly groaning as you sat down in chairs during classes. Cedric noticed every single time.

“Can you please let me take you to the Emergency Wing?” he had whispered to you once Snape had walked past you two.

“No” you argued.

“You’re not even writing there” he pointed to your hand, where the ink had dropped a few drops since you just lifted your wrist in the air, without writing anything.

“Cedric” you called. You rarely called him by his name, it was always ‘Ced’ to him, unless you were mad. “I’m fine. Stop it”

He let it pass just one more day, but when you didn’t even show up to your first class the next morning, he truly started to get mad.

You woke up with him sitting at the edge of your bed. You gasped as you sat on the bed, desperate and confused. “What time is it?” you asked, already trying to get out of bed.

“Don’t worry, you’ve missed classes already” he interrupted. You sat on the bed, angry.

“I what!?” you yelled, as painful as it was for you to do so.

“You’re staying in bed” he demanded, big arms crossed over his chest as he stood up, standing in front of your weak body like a giant statue, demanding you to stay where you are.

But of course, you had to complain.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” you stood up and pushed his shoulder, walking past him. “I’m f-…” before you could reach the door, an invisible force bounced you back into your place. You scoffed in disbelief, and Cedric grinned, satisfied. You tried to walk again, but the same bouncy feeling hit your body, much harder this time.

“Imperturbable Charm” he explained. “You’re not getting out of this room”

“Imperturbable-, where’s my wand?” you walked towards him, almost hitting your chest to his, even though the scene was not threatening at all. To Cedric’s eyes, it looked quite funny. You, all red nose and sore throat, smaller than him, trying to act angry at him. Yeah, as if he would let you win this time.

“I’m not giving you your wand. You’re staying inside this room, so do as I say, and go to bed”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “No”

“Oh?” he dared, raising both eyebrows and lowering his head. He studied your facial expressions for a moment before speaking again. “Baby, that wasn’t a question. Let me take care of you, and go to bed”

You bit the inside of your cheek. His grey eyes were working their way inside your brain; you fucking hated it and loved it at the same time. You groaned when you slowly saw his satisfied smirk grow on his face, he knew he already won.

Once you got yourself covered in bed again, he walked to the nightstand next to your bed. On top of it, there was a small ceramic bowl with a brown liquid inside, it smelled good. He grabbed it carefully and handed it to you. “It’s chicken and pumpkin soup” he explained. He slowly placed it over your lap, instantly feeling the heat grow over your thighs, it was still hot.

He then squat down and took his leather bag, the one you gifted him just a few months ago. He opened it, and took one small glass bottle, placing it at your small nightstand bed. “And this,” he pointed to the horrible red liquid “is Pepperup Potion. You have to drink it. Madame Pomfrey said it’s just a common cold that you have, but since you’ve been like this for days, if you’re not better by tomorrow morning, you’ll have to stay at the Emergency Wing”

You gulped, looked down at the hot soup, and then back at him. “Okay” you said in a small voice. Cedric sighed heavily before taking a spoon and sitting in front of you at the bed, next to your thighs. You tried to take it, but he quickly backed it up. He served some soup on the spoon, making sure that a small piece of chicken stayed there, he knew how much you loved to have in the first bite… or drink.

“Open” he demanded. You did so, and the warm and salty taste of the soup felt good against your tongue, already satisfied with your food for the first time in three days. You didn’t say anything, just letting your boyfriend put food into your mouth as he placed his free hand over your thigh, squeezing and soothing up and down.

“Thank you” you said after taking one particular big spoon of soup. “And, I’m sorry for being stubborn… and for not letting you take care of me”

He snorted. “It’s okay, angel” he replied. He knew how much you loved it when he called you that. “I know how hard that skull of yours can be sometimes”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up” you laughed. He forced you into taking more of your food before it gets cold. “You shouldn’t be doing this. I can take care of myself”

“No one takes cares of you better than I do” he took the bowl out of your legs and placed it over the table.

“It’s not like I have a choice. You locked me up here”

He moved closer to you. “And don’t you like it?” he asked. “You and me, locked inside your dorm-…”

“Ced!” you gasped in disbelief before he bursted out laughing. “You’re supposed to be taking care of me, remember?”

“Excuse me, am I not doing it?”

You placed a hand at the back of his neck, slightly running your fingers through his scalp. “No. I would say you’re more of a distraction”

His face got closer to yours. “Am I?” he leaned in, but you backed up, surprise.

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get sick too?”

“I really don’t care” he said before softly placing your lips over yours. Kissing Cedric always felt like kissing the smoothest and plushiest cloud. His lips were warm, and the way he captured your lips between yours was always the hardest thing to separate from whenever you broke the kiss. If you could, you’d kiss him forever.

He leaned back and placed his forehead on yours. “Want me to give you a massage?” he asked.

“Yes, please” you groaned. He laughed.

“Okay, okay” he stood up “But before that… your medicine” he took the glass bottle and shook it in his hand.

“Nooo” you whined, hiding under the covers.

“You have to drink it, honey” he tried to uncover you, which was already hard enough since your hands gripped onto the sheets with amazing strength.

“No!”

“You won’t get better unless you drink it”

“I already feel better” you lied.

Cedric found your head hidden under the blanket and gave it a light smack. “Liar” he panted.

After fighting for some time, Cedric promised you a chocolate frog after the medicine. He stayed with you for the rest of the day, only going to his own room when your roommates came back to your dorm to sleep, not leaving without kissing you first, and getting rid of the charm he had put around your bed.

It still felt weird when Cedric took care of you like this. You knew he was someone that cared for the people he loved, but you never thought it would go as far as staying with you in bed for a whole day, missing classes and risking himself on getting sick too.

But the truth was, Cedric loved you more than anything in this world. Taking care of you was the least thing he could do after you agreed in giving your heart and soul to him.

Is it a bad time for me to ask you to go check on my new ethan landry one shot ? 🥹

[lakesparkles]

(I was originally gonna post this in the replies of the last ask but I got shy ;-;)

YES. YESSSSS oh my god. you and I. we're like the same. ramona's guilt was what drew me to her in the first place. it's so rare to find a character that truly struggles with feeling like a bad person, and bryan wrote it so perfectly. it's such a shame that this part of ramona never made it into any of the adaptations. he represented how domestic abuse affects victims so well, SO WELL. anyone who argues that being interested in gideon/ramona is bad has never experienced d/a. long-term abuse destroys you. it rewires your brain. it makes you obsessive and vulnerable and lonely but afraid of people. I was attached to my ex for years after we broke up. years after we stopped talking I still fantasized about earning his approval and love and affection. I think it's quite natural to obsess over similar situations, in a way. healthier than thinking about your own lol

bryan wrote gideon and ramona. so. well. I do wish he would have explained more about them, but what we did get (in the comics) was really personal and important to me. ramona's self-hatred, her misplaced guilt, her feelings of being an evil person who can't be saved... yeah. any time someone says "ramona was the real villain!" I do the biggest eye-roll ever. no, she's not. being a victim makes you do some terrible, terrible things to yourself and others but I don't think even that makes her evil. she's just a person

and yes. I love villains, and gideon is nowhere near the worst. the way that he's presented, especially with the tone of scott pilgrim, is very comedic. he's hardly evil in the anime/movie at all

I love. characters who struggle with morality and feeling evil so much. if I had replied on the last post from my main you could've seen my fave for the past year😭😭

-🦊

(oh don't worry at all, I know how it feels 😔)

You understand me so much, reading your asks even comfort me in a way, thank you for this <3 EXACTLY!! And when I find a character who feels this way... They're usually written in a way that I can't relate to. But Ramona is very different, it was like she was translating my own feelings into words and I could finally understand what I felt, in the first place.

And you're surely not wrong or alone for being this way, with me it was basically the same. I don't see my ex for seven years (?) and I still think about her all the time. I wonder how different things could've been. I wonder if I was the one who acted wrong (not surprises, this is what happens after you have a relationship with someone who manipulates you to believe it).

This is exactly the reason Ramona is so important to me and why Gideon and her are the best representation of an abusive relationship. Many people are afraid to show that, when you're a victim of it, you don't feel good about yourself. In fact, it's like you feel guilty and ashamed for the longest time. And, even worse, that this kind of relationship has good moments too and this is the hardest part. When my ex was nice, she was VERY nice.

I love villains, however, Ramona is NOT EVEN CLOSE to being one. I haaate when people say this about her... But let's be real, a big part of the Scott Pilgrim fandom hates women :( and yeees, Gideon is just "normal villain" level to me. He's bad, he's showed as bad but many of his scenes are funny. Bryan himself doesn't take his seriously and, most of all, he's a loser. I love him for this.

Now I'm so curious about your fave haha but like I said, don't worry at all!! You're always free to reply with your main or DM me, but only if you feel comfortable doing so ^^

[paikothecateater]

could we get a fic about what happened before Iceland made his way into Sweden's room and found norway?

we wanna know what kind of nightmare norway was having to the point of him going to Sweden😔

Oh hell yeah!

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

Norway was way too familiar with this dream. He couldn't figure out how to categorise it. It wasn't a good dream, that's for sure, but it also wasn't entirely a nightmare.

He made another lazy, futile attempt to reach over and grasp it.

To grasp him...

He vaguely recognised the figure. He knew this person, he was sure of it, but he couldn't put a name to him.

He wasn't the only one. There were three others, this one just so happened to be the clearest.

He had a hard time convincing himself that they were people. They didn't seem real.

They were blurry and let off a soft glow. The glow became brighter whenever they spoke. He couldn't understand a word, but he loved their voices.

He didn't think they knew he existed. They didn't seem to be able to see him.

They had so many conversations. Even though Norway didn't understand a word, it warmed him from the inside. He never managed to get close enough to touch one, but he did know that on top of their soft light, they gave off this gentle heat.

Two of them were always at a distance from him. He wasn't bothered. They always seemed happy to him that way.

The other two always stayed close. One of them stayed extremely close at all times. He tried and tried, but could never touch it. He was afraid to. He once almost grazed it, but it's glow dimmed dangerously low when he did. He was scared of somehow hurting it.

This one was, by far, his favourite. It was smaller than the others. He felt this strong connection to it. This strong urge to protect it. He didn't recognise him, but he knew he loved him.

Another one occasionally joined it. This one was much bigger and it's light was much more stable, much brighter. It's warmth was also more intense. He had the sneaking suspicion this one at least knew of his existence.

He felt safe in its presence.

He liked getting to see them, but it was also very isolating.

These embers had their own world. He wasn't a part of it, and no matter how hard he tried, they always ended up fading.

Just as soon as he finally remembered them.

He felt horribly cold without them. Their heat was so pleasant and comforting...

It was dark, cold and lonely.

Norway's worst fear wasn't an easy one to overcome... Norway feared being alone most out of everything.

Norway woke up in a pool of his own sweat.

He immediately throws the covers off of himself and rushes out of his room.

He walks into Iceland's room.

He couldn't bring himself to wake him up...

Iceland looked quite troubled himself. It would be cruel to add more stress to him when his mind seemed so heavy.

Norway leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his little brother's cheek.

Iceland's expression softened and he let out a quiet sigh.

"I won't let you carry my burdens this time. You're just a child. It's my job to make you feel better. You have nothing to worry about, Min lille prins." He whispered before leaving the room.

Norway wandered around aimlessly. He didn't want to wake anyone else up.

Especially not Denmark or Finland. He recognised them as the distant blurry figures from his dream.

Part of him was hurt that they weren't as close as Iceland or Sweden, but he couldn't blame them for his own mind's cruelty. They didn't deserve that.

Sweden was an option, but walking into someone's room to tell them you had a nightmare as an adult man might be the worst thing Norway can think of.

So he paced.

And paced.

And paced...

And paced.....

Until he couldn't bring himself to stand anymore.

He walked over to Sweden's door, sat down by it and let his tears fall pathetically.

He didn't know why he was so miserable. It wasn't a bad dream. It was supposedly happy, but Norway felt so alone. So abandoned...

Sweden's door opened and Norway was met with a very confused yet concerned look.

Not even bothering to stand, Norway wordlessly clung to Sweden's legs.

"Norway...? What happened?" Sweden mumbled sleepily.

"söta bror... Don't leave me..." begged Norway even more pitifully.

Sweden pulled him up and gave him a concerned look.

"what happened?" he asked gently.

Now feeling a little more embarrassed, Norway nervously looked around.

"I just... It's just a bad dream..." he said vaguely.

Sweden gently guided Norway into his room and had him sit down on his bed.

"wait here..." he said.

Sweden left the room for a bit, then returned with a glass of water.

"drink..." he said, handing him the glass.

Norway did just that.

"are you sure you're okay? You look sick." Sweden remarked.

"not really... I'm a little... Shaken up." admitted Norway.

"you can talk about it if it'll help." suggested Sweden.

Norway nodded and began retelling the whole dream the best he could describe it.

Sweden listened as Norway described his dreams. How he was afraid that it meant something deeper that he just couldn't understand.

It was strange to him that no matter how many times Norway had this dream, he never seemed to remember who the figures were until they faded.

Sweden listened and nodded and waited for Norway to finish explaining.

"when I got too close to it, it almost went out..." he explained.

"the Iceland one?" asked Sweden.

"yeah... Do you think it means I'm hurting him by being near him?" asked Norway.

"what?"

"I feel so selfish for going to him for help so often... What if it's hurting him more than I thought?"

"Norway... Don't be ridiculous... Nothing in this world would hurt him more than being separated from you. If you're suggesting that you should keep your distance from him, you're actively trying to hurt him." said Sweden blatantly.

"so, what should I do?"

"you should start fixing your sleep schedule."

Norway sighs.

"I'm definitely not sleeping again after that."

"yes, you are."

"I don't want to go through that again."

"you won't. If you do, I'll be here, but you need sleep. It can't be helped."

"..."

"come on... You can sleep here. I'll be up for another three hours I expect."

"why?"

"to make sure you're alright."

"you don't have to do that."

"yes, I do. You're to me what Iceland is to you, if you need me, I'll be here."

Norway says nothing else. He leans against Sweden who begins rhythmically patting his back.

Norway's exhaustion creeps back in and he starts dozing instantly. He felt a lot better about this time. He knew he had someone to rely on if things went south.

In his sleep, Norway saw the same figures, only this time, the bigger of the two closest ones had finally seen him and he finally got to know what it felt like to touch these figures. He didn't recognise it, but he knew he loved it, and he knew that it loved him too.

A few hours later, the little one also saw him and it too wrapped him up in a warm embrace. Instead of dimming from his touch, it burned brighter.

The other two remained at their distance, but he still felt their love radiating off of them.

For the first time in a long time, Norway enjoyed a good night's rest, enveloped in the warmth of his two favourite people in the world who would ensure that he was never alone.

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

Is it way too sappy? Yes. Did I cry while writing it? Yes. Will it satisfy the ask? Probably not, but well, that's what happened.

I do feel the need to clarify even though it's probably obvious, but Iceland also noticing Norway refers to when he also joined him and Sweden.

The talk between Norway and Sweden is... A little dry, but that's because both of them suck at speech. Norway is horrible at explaining what he feels and Sweden is very matter-of-fact about these things.

Just in case the whole vibe of Norway's dream isn't clear, he feels like he's way too different and isolated from the others. It's not a rational fear, but to Norway it's very real. He's not necessarily terrified of being alone, it's being alone even when they're around is what he fears.

Finland and Denmark being at a constant distance in Norway's dream doesn't refer to them having a distant relationship. It's that Norway is generally closer to Iceland and Sweden and he feels more comfortable being himself around them.

Just like Sweden said, Norway is to him what Iceland is to Norway and by extention Iceland is to Sweden what Norway is to Sweden. They kind of have this little sub-family thing going on. It's not that he doesn't care about Denmark and Finland just as much.

This is actually related to a pretty old headcanon, so I'll restate it here. Norway has a horrible time with sleep and he usually goes to Iceland for these problems, but if he wakes him up too many nights in a row, he starts feeling guilty for disrupting his sleep so often.

The 'figures' having this sort of glowing factor represents the joy they bring into Norway's life. The reason the Iceland figure dims when he almost touches it the first time isn't a reflection of him being a negative influence on Iceland's life, it's just a reflection of his own fear of hurting him.

Yep, I think that's all that needs clarification. Thank you so much for the ask and I hope this mini fic was worth it.

[rotten-flesh-n-bones]

"which was one of the worst, loneliest, most miserable years of my life" Sending love. Would bake you a cake if I lived in Poland. Merry Christmas and happy holidays. Still here for you if you need anything, ever (and there it is — proof of my soul). - R

Awwe, thank you, I really appreciate it 🥺💝 Happy holidays to you, too, Rodka!! I wish you all the best, and may your Chornobyl research always be fruitful, scientifically correct, and historically accurate! And I hope your language studies are going well, too! I also really appreciate the cake offer - I'm sure it'd be absolutely amazing... and no dishes, unlike when I bake stuff myself haha

I'm going to be very honest and candid here. I usually try not to bring my grievances to this blog because I know everyone's here for my art and not me and my phenomenal personality of a stray dog with severe anxiety, but I'm also preeeetty sure everyone's noticing the gradual decline of the quality of my art as my mental health is on a downwards spiral... I like being fun and cringe in the most genuine me-way possible and not the pitiful husk of a person I feel like I am now.

It's been so very tough to deal with everything all by myself this year. It feels like it's just me against the whole world - not in a cool, cinematic way, but in a "I don't know if I'll make it to the other side" kind of way. If it wasn't for my one and only friend, I would have gone off the deep end by now, probably. It was supposed to be my year. Another year, another birthday I didn't celebrate. Everything was supposed to be getting better, and instead, everything got much, much worse. I'm disappointed in everything but primarily in myself because it's all my fault. It's weird because, on the other hand, I'm the most mentally stable I've ever been, but everything is just so bad.

An unfortunate discovery I made this year is that, apparently, the Christmas season makes me incredibly sad (I'm sure it's not hard to guess why by now). I wish I could at least indulge in basic consumerism to numb myself a bit, but, alas, I didn't get anything for Christmas from myself nor anyone else, so I can't really do that LMAO Can't even make hot chocolate because I ran out of chocolate bars and everything's closed 😔 Tis the end of the world, truly. The winter season is actually trying to kill me. It's always dark grey outside (at best), and I'm just soooo tired and sleepy all the time...

TL;DR: I'm really lonely and haven't been feeling well. I'm really sorry for the rant/vent/whatever you want to call it, especially TODAY, out of all the days. I honestly just really needed to get it out, one way or the other.

[masonsbfgaming]

HEY MON!!!!! I always want 2 know more about Val so here's a couple of questions!

Tell me one fact about him that you've never said but have always been dying to tell!

What's his relationship with Tina and Verda like? Did he tell either of them about the supernatural or not?

What's his relationship with Bobby and Douglas? Which path did he take with them?

omg hello hi 🫶 glad to see u here i always appreciate it when i can spew bs abt my ocs i hope this doesnt get long (update: it did)

1; val fact i wanted to tell 🤔 is probably that in my hc he spent some of his high school years in russia with his grandparents. (bc i think maybe rebecca got too busy, got too scared out of nowhere, or rooks side of the family insisted he learn more of his other side, who knows, i dont have a solid reason)

val already spoke fluent russian by then bc maybe rooks parents were a bit pushy and wanted to have a significant part in his upbringing so he visited them for extended vacation, but he had a brief time he lived there too, in my mind 😔 they lived in a much less fancy area than he does in the uk (wayhaven is there to me) so he was integrated into the world of slavic traditions over time (dont be mad at him if he reflexively smells your water bottle looking things) with the help of grampy and grammy 👍 also he does speak brazilian protugese due to rebecca. those and english he's fluent in but he knows a good chunk of things in spanish (i hc he learned it to impress bobby's family in uni years perhaps) as well as japanese for some reason (probably mandatory class for said uni?) (he originally took chinese mandarin but he cried his eyes out over how hard it was on week two and switched immediately)

2 ; vals relationship w tina and verda is. i'd say like alvin and the chipmunks. they r all soooo annoying together (yes even verda gets there) and even with bravo being vals found family, he's still very close to them. real friends who stick by you like that are rare and he knows it. so far i do Not have a canon in my mind for who'd he telly if he told either of them at all 😭 i feel like him keeping it hidden would be just hypocrisy because he was mad at rebecca for hiding it from him in the first place, but then again. it was a major thing he would've needed to know to protect himself in his own life, considering his blood made him a target. tina doesn't seem to have anything life altering unknowing entanglements with the supernatural world (as far as i'm aware??) like verda. val would probably want to help eric with that, because that kind of "lying" (it's not exactly lying as much as it's just. Not Telling?) takes a toll on someone, especially if it's someone they love dearly. from vals point of view, he'd want to help right that, but he's also not the type of person to meddle in people's business. so the canon wouldn't apply to him i think, he'd just. help eric behind the scenes or something. (though. ig him taking the metaphorical bullet for eric would make sense because what he IS is a 'die for you' type 😔 let's say he tells verda in canon)

3; this one is interesting bc i've been playing bobby route since the beginning of time, like. his and bobby's story is so elaborate and they have this complex relationship of "i hate you you're the worst thing that happened to me but i'll never let anything happen to you and i'll never let you go lonely" idk what caused that for them. i know on bobby's side is bc he fumbled the baddest bitch and he regrets it for the rest of his life, but val?? i guess it's just. "can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em"? anyway i have a whole dramatic playlist for them and it's led by rescue me by onerepublic & also my favorite line from that collection is "had the world in the palm of your hand/but you fucking choked" . it's actually crazy, i think it would make sooo much more sense for val to be on douglas route, bc one of his life's dreams was to Be a father and that could kinda manifest there i mean. having to keep doug safe and providing him a place of comfort, the ordeal with him turning supernatural and then val leading him into that life, guiding him through it like he wishes his mother had.... it would be nearly perfect ?? idk what got into me. chalk that up for bobby pretty privilege 🥲 also maybe the fact that i'm obsessed with exes to lovers for some reason (although val would defnitiely not touch that man w a ten foot pole, but. the Vibe, yknow.)

that's mostly it i always appreciate seeing u🫵 around im passing out

[annie05thehistorylover]

The worst feeling is when you feel lonely in a crowd of people. You feel empty inside😭. You just want to cry .You don’t feel comfortable to even talk to the ones closest to you 😔

[urbandeity]

hi Urban (´◡`)

hope you're doing well! omg the latest chapter of daddy's gone !!! (//ω//)

if you still answer to those, #21 #22 and #45 for the nosy asks

thank you (*^‿^*)

asjfhlasjfljasf thank you!! I'm so giddy and smiley and happy ehehbhebhe

21. Describe your best friend.

Only the most remarkable person?? Ever??? My god I'm obsessed with them. They're so incredible at making you feel validated and safe. They live their life to the fullest and encourage me to do the same, I swear I'd be so much more cynical and lonely without them. I have the fattest platonic crush on them fr

22. Tag someone you think is hot.

Wait but then I'd end up tagging all my mutuals 😭

45. What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?

Ooo I'm not sure! Maybe I'm just bitter but I was never fond of the first date I went on in one of my first real relationships, it wasn't much more than walking around the same lake everybody in my town goes to and getting some snacks, capped by a really unpleasant first kiss in his car. Ugh I know we're all teenagers and figuring ourselves out back then, but I wish younger Urban could've gotten a better introduction to romance than that one 😔

Thank you for the ask! I hope your week goes well ><

[jadenightthewriter]

In their defence they may be stupid but marcellus is a) traumatised and b) a child. Idk what marcias excuse is tho 😔 in the esmerelda version she is also so so traumatised and has barely had time to recover from althers death before ending up with a baby for a second time except this time she can't dump it on someone else 😔😔😔 (the bit where she goes to the heaps in that version is So funny,, she shows up like um. Haha hi uhhh help. And she has a teenage boy with her and also a baby (identical to baby #1 silas got handed) and silas is like marcia wtf. Marcia why is there a baby who looks exactly the same as the one u gave me before. Marcia where r these babies coming from)

Honestly I think real au esmerelda probably had it better than canon esmerelda?? Like in canon everyone had caught on that etheldredda was killing her kids and tried to protect her, in this au etheldredda isn't even killing just the princesses she also killed her son who wasn't a threat at all and everyone is so on guard abt it. Esmerelda is never ever left alone w etheldredda not even once and all the palace staff r so careful abt it

YEAH <3333 septimus and marcellus get along So well here,,, septimus is having some kind of panic attack at one point and marcellus is like look i get it- and seps like LITERALLY NO U DON'T. And marcellus goes haha. Lmao. And then there r explanations (once sep is not actively crying on the floor) and septimus latches onto marcellus as his new favourite person (equal to marcia) and also septimus gets twice the amount of hugs and its all very sweet and nice <3 also I'm assigning marcias rooms another bedroom so marcellus can also stay there 😌 they may already have one?? I think it's mentioned in thm somewhere??? But. I'm putting it properly in the story this time <3 marcellus is staying in the tower while all his alchemy stuff is under construction and marcia HATES it bc he can spot when she's not sleeping and literally pick her up and put her into the bed and it's the WORST and sometimes he makes food and then she has to actually stop what she's doing to eat it and it's awful 😔😔 (<-she's doing better physically and mentally than canon marcia tho so). He's also very much a shoulder to cry on abt dn1 related stuff so literally this marcia is like canon marcia but 100% less. Lonely and sad.

Anyway I got off track,, yeah septimus and marcellus bond over being two guys with the same variety of trauma and both marcia and marcellus r able to help him more in this au than in canon bc they have. Experience. Does it help septimus that much?? Short term kind of long term definitely. Marcellus to septimus is like a kind of cool uncle/sort of dad figure,, they hang out when neither of them have smth else to be doing (sometimes when they do) and marcellus teaches him abt alchemy and marcias like wow marcellus :/ I can't believe you'd steal my apprentice :// that's so rude and mean 😔😔 and he's like lmao <3 and keeps teaching septimus stuff. Also marcellus does eventually tell more ppl abt his Actual backstory and jennas like WAIT WE'RE RELATED????? and decides he's cool actually now that she can bully sep abt how that's her great uncle 🥺 how could he steal him from her like this 🥺🥺🥺

This ask is so long abdhdbdjd rip and uhh. Well i have Plans for a fic but I think we all know what happens when I have a plan for a fic (<-it never ever gets written) so PLEASE write smth if u want to i will love it forever and ever and ever <3333

Consider: I would call them stupid even without the trauma, hence they have exactly 0 excuses sorry babies I love you but no

I bet Silas thinks Marcia did something stupid and kidnapped them all which is,,, aha not exactly wrong?? But it's not like she's going to admit that. (side note i feel like marcellus and silas probably get along shockingly well and marcia is Upset about this she's been betrayed how could you marcellus)

hmm.... that's a good point about esmerelda. I think mentally it might be harder for her though, because there might be lots of people who love her but i feel like there wouldn't be many who would try to get super close, because she's still royalty. i think septimus should accidentally trip and fall through one of marcellus's silly experiments and meet esmerelda and maybe be her friend for a bit.

ngl marcia sounds like a cat here i love this. do you think sep and marcellus (help i need to shorten his name i can't keep typing it T^T) scheme to like,, trick her into doing things they want. i bet they do like pspsps marcia look here. (i bet marcia and marcellus fight over how much alchemy and magyk stuff they're allowed to leave lying around. their rooms look pretty much exactly the same because they both hoard so many things except marcia's has like 2% more purple. relatedly i bet their horrible sense of fashion has infected the other.)

marcia and marcellus working together is probably the best possible thing to happen for sep it's like,,, someone understands almost all of what happened to him, there's always someone to talk to, there's someone to be responsible and someone to be irresponsible, he gets all the good things he deserves <3333

i think the jenna sep marcellus dynamic would be so funny idk how much an age difference they have (depending on AU version i would guess 10-15?) but they probably have the same sort of influence from marcia and all love to make fun of each other. they probably wear purple a lot and don't notice until silas points it out lmao and then make a point to see who can wear the most outlandish purple thing until marcia yells at them.

bestie same 😭😭 i can't promise anything (fuck you, school) but i have so many ideas i'm serious when i tell you this au is one of the best things i've learned of in months

[greencruz]

Dedicate (pros quatro 😔🙏🏻)

SEND ME “DEDICATE” FOR A SONG DEDICATED TO YOUR MUSE FROM MINE : ACCEPTING !

nesse aqui eu fiz o seguinte, coloquei a dedicação deles e as minhas.

KANG & AHRA.

interlude: i am not angry anymore - paramore. (a dele)

i'm not angry anymore well, sometimes i am i don't think badly of you well, sometimes i do. i'm not bitter anymore i'm syrupy sweet i'll rot your teeth down to their core if i'm really happy. well i'm not angry i'm not totally angry.

@ my worst - blackbear (a minha).

maybe i'm the best mistake you ever made it sounds so fuckin' beautiful when you say my name i'm praying to a god, a god i don't believe the more i hide my scars, the easier i bleed. but maybe i'm the worst, the worst you ever had tell you you're beautiful, then stab you in the back. you're prayin' i'm the one, but maybe i'm a curse the more you try to fix me, the more you make it worse. could you love me at my worst? could you love me even though that, that it hurts?

ED & HAERI.

nonsense - sabrina carpenter. (a minha)

think i only want one number in my phone i might change your contact to "don't leave me alone" you said you like my eyes and you like to make 'em roll treat me like a queen, now you got me feelin' thrown, oh but i can't help myself when you get close to me baby, my tongue goes numb sounds like bleh, blah, blee i don't want no one else [...] cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in and when you got your arms around me ooh, it feels so good i had to jump the octave.

just like heaven - the cure (a dele)

"show me, show me, show me how you do that trick the one that makes me scream", she said. "the one that makes me laugh", she said and threw her arms around my neck. show me how you do it and i promise you, i promise that i'll run away with you. you soft and only you lost and lonely you strange as angels dancing in the deepest oceans twisting in the water you're just like a dream.

JIMMY & JAY.

tear in my heart - twenty one pilots (a minha)

sometimes you gotta bleed to know that you’re alive and have a soul but it takes someone to come around to show you how she’s the tear in my heart i’m alive she’s the tear in my heart i’m on fire she’s the tear in my heart take me higher than I’ve ever been. the songs on the radio are okay but my taste in music is your face.

bad for business - sabrina carpenter (a dela)

he's good for my heart, but he's bad for business tears me apart when he grants my wishes. all of my friends think I've gone crazy but they don't know me like my baby. we look good in photographs, i like the way you like to laugh at dirty jokes, i know they'll always land. used to get to work on time, now you're taking up my nights never been so glad to be so tired. if i'm just writing happy songs, would anybody sing along? you had to go and break into my head and i would try to fight these feelings i can't find a single reason i'd make all the same mistakes again.

SUZY & YUNA.

queen bee - lauren sanderson (a minha)

queen bee i think i'd like it if you sting me and now we're crawling to my backseat you taste like honey when you kiss me queen bee. i don't know what i'm doin lately i been feelin clueless maybe fate just introduced us i can't lie you're like the coolest. hot mess hot sex what if we rolled around all day in my bed? do you love me? love me yet? am i makin' this up? is this all in my head?

bad idea - girl in red (a dela)

it was a bad idea calling you up was such a bad idea 'cause now i'm even more lost it was a bad idea to think you were the one was such a bad idea 'cause now everything's wrong. you put your hands under my shirt undid my bra and said these words darling, you're so pretty, it hurts you pushed me up against my wall threw my clothes down on the floor darling, are you ready for more? it was a bad idea calling you up was such a bad idea, i'm totally fucked it was a bad idea to think i could stop was such a bad idea, i can't get enough.

[page-matcha]

Hey hey!!

Replying back to my last ask. Sorry it’s so late 😩

Don’t get me started on being sick…I feel like since the start of the year until now I get sick for a few weeks and I feel better then I get sick again. NOOO not on Valentine’s Day… did you have anything special planned?

I ended up babysitting/house sitting for my aunt 🙄

Everytime i say I Will be back life throws another curve ball at me. Give me a break PLEASEE I wanna come and Interact with everyone 🥺💕

Hi Angie!!!!

Omg no I'M sorry for answering so late 😭😭😭😭

No, I didn't have anything planned for Valentine's day unfortunately 😔 it was just kind of a bummer that I ended up being sick too 😭 but my friend dragged me out of my house and hang out with them so I we both wouldn't be sad single lonely and depressed so if that counts 🤷🏻‍♀️

Wait did you babysit on Valentine's day? I mean not the worst way to spend it because you get to spend time with family kind of but at the same time that really sucks I'm sorry 😭

Omg im writing too much I'm just gonna say like one more thing

Take as much time as you need Angie <333 I've been off of Tumblr so I don't know if you're back now or not, but I'll be here supporting you ^^ 💜

[cozyboiii]

Truly one of the worst combinations of feelings are lonely and horny 😔

[hanafubukki]

Prince and the physician my beloved. I love this Au but ahhhhh Why must they be doomed brothers 💔💔😫😫 i just want to kidnap them and take them and let them live happily. Forget the kingdom let it burn to pieces for all I care 😤🔥🔥

���The worst part of reincarnation, Silver thinks, is the constant cycle of relearning everything all over again.”

Honestly? Yeah. Imagine having to relearn everything your prior self learned and knowing your death is eminent. Everyone always having these expectations of you.

“He has lived far too many lifetimes as Silver — the crown prince of his kingdom, the only living heir of their royal family. He has lived far too many lifetimes as a Silver — distinctly different with each rebirth, living a short number of years until the day he inevitably dies.

Silver is immortal, and yet he is not. He lives on as the royal, the prince, a beacon of hope—

But Silver the person changes, with each new looping cycle.”

Ohhhh oh the identity issues?? The exhaustion he must feel?? The pain? Always a prince for others, always a hope, but never himself. 😔😫 (ahahahaha doesn’t that sound familiar let me curl up in a corner)

The freedom he wants as he watches out the window. The connection and the feel of a sword 😭😭 and it’s Malleus he smiles at!! MALLEUS ABSKSKSK

“from the words penned by the others who came before him, that they wish for nothing more than to rid the world of the last of the wicked — not, and never, fair — fae.”

OH LET ME AT THEM LET ME AT THEM 🔥🔥🔥

BUT FOR SILVER MALLEUS WAS ONE THING. Malleus WAS A FRIEND ahhhhhhh

And OH THE CHANGE IN SILVER BEFORE AND AFTWR MALLEUS ABDKSJSJJDSN

The lack of hope, the despair, *loneliness*

And the. When malleus comes to his life. The protectiveness he feels. The emotions. And knowing that malleus felt the same from his pov too when this prince held his hand out. The only reason he stopped fighting against his chains. The only one to treat him with such kindness.

“There is a page filled with endless delight upon learning the fae’s name, ink smudged together where the page reads Malleus. Their activities did not end at the crude essentials; there are sweeping recounts of games played together, of crayon drawings and delicious platters of sweet treats — and Silver aches when he reads every word of it, possessed by a longing to return to those simpler times, when Malleus was not his physician, and was merely his friend.”

“I wish this could last forever, these sweet days of playing together. For much of my life, I have been haunted by a bleak loneliness, isolated by my circumstances, and haunted by the weight of all our pasts. I have never had any companions my age, and I know from my readings that all of my predecessors shared the same lonely fate. To indulge in such fleeting luxuries, to have someone to speak to as though we were on the same level, intimately so— it is a happiness unlike anything I have ever felt before.

Blotchy circles stain the pages, the ink smeared in places.

Things may be different from now on. I understand that the council wishes for him to begin his work when the next cycle begins. And it is with that knowledge that I must remind the next Silver: Malleus may be our physician, and he may be tasked with breaking our curse—

But before that, before any of that, he is our friend.

Never forget that, for as long as we may live.”

Do you hear that?? That is the breaking of my soul.

My heart is shattering. They are each other’s salvation and comfort and yet, what have life given them?? And to know that malleus is the key to breaking this curse that silver wants broken but malleus will loose him??

God, my tears are endles 😔😔

And silver tries so so hard to break formalities with malleus but that is also a barrier. How hard and tiring it must be?? He wants the connection the previous silvers had but also it’s a form of protection for Malleus too. And there’s also those jackals that make him as well 😭😫

To be so understanding and yet?? It’s exhausting 😭😭

“Their relationship is a strange, tenuous thing. There is undoubtedly a bond there, from the way that Silver always feels so safe and secure in Malleus’ presence, and the gentle way that Malleus treats him, always appearing whenever Silver calls for him. There are even some rare occasions where the facade of dutiful physician slips, a careful veneer crafted for the sake of survival in the court, and Silver relishes those times, watching as Malleus’ expression sours, the stinging barbs that spit from his mouth more endearing than his usual regal elegance.”

It is a good day for the two of them, Silver reflects. They drink their cups of tea and drain the pot of its excess drink, and the tray of delicacies are filled with nothing but crumbs by the time they’re done.

Even the cake, a dessert regarded with conflicting feelings by Malleus, is finished by the end of it. For once, Malleus eats his slices with a small smile, both their forks scraping the bottom of the plate as they help themselves to their fill.

I should stop reading here. I know I should! But SAIISJDJSJDJD OKAY HERE WERE go

“In that vein, what does it matter if Silver chooses to speed up the process?”

NO NO YOU DIDNT ELL ELLL TELL ME YOU DIDNT ELL

I mean I saw that ART BUT TELL ME YOU DIDNT

A memory flashes to mind, unbidden — of twisting, dark horns and raven-spun hair, and slitted green eyes that crinkle at the corners as he smiles at him.

(His hands tremble.)

Malleus.

The name fills him with an ache. If there is anything Silver can take comfort in as he straddles the line between life and death, it is simply that Malleus will always be there. Malleus is a constant throughline throughout Silver’s life, and while Silver may ebb and flow, weaving in and out of the many, many years of a fae’s long lifespan, Malleus will always be there.

The humans may come and go, live and die, but Malleus will always remain.

AHHHHHH YOU DID YOU DID AHHHHHHHHH NOOOOOO

I get why silver did it I do. I get it. Those lifetimes. Those expectations. Any other person would go insane and just give up. But silver omg

The line of holding onto malleus and being his constant and knowing he will see him again. So that not only makes him hesitate but also gives him the courage to go through. Because he knows malleus will be there anyways so it doesn’t matter, if he didn’t know that, I bet he would have stayed his hand.

But as much as he hesitated, he knows, malleus will be with him so it’s okay to go through it.

And what of malleus? Hearing that news? His prince and friend dying earlier. Was he not enough? Did he miss something? How did he not see it coming?? Does this make him more shielded? Was he the cause? Was it because he didn’t break the curse? Does he close his heart that much more? And does the new silver hate this precious one for it??

AHHHHH ELLLLL ELLLL WHYYYY ABSJSJJSJDDJD

Beautiful as always. Now I’m going to jail my plushies.

the once (and many) prince(s) Twisted Wonderland | 3.3k Summary: Silver is, has always been, and will always be, the crown prince of his kingdom. AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54424864 Collaboration with @ohsleepie | Potential spoilers for elements of Chapter 7

Hi everyone! @ohsleepie and I are back at it again with another collaboration based on his wonderful "The Prince and his Physician" AU! This fic is meant to act as a companion story of sorts to the Malleus-focused "the prince's physician," this time focusing on Silver within the AU! Once again, this fic features incredibly beautiful and amazing art drawn by Sleepie; please check him out and follow him, if you haven't already!

I hope you all enjoy!

The worst part of reincarnation, Silver thinks, is the constant cycle of relearning everything all over again.

Okay, perhaps it would be a bit of a stretch to call it the worst part. There are many negatives, many downsides, far too many to count, to being stuck in a loop of constantly dying and reincarnating. But this particular aspect is, in Silver’s honest opinion, one of the worst out of them all.

There is a bookshelf carved from expensive ebony that sits in his chambers, nestled against one side of the wall. There are several bookshelves in his room, but this is the only one that Silver ever uses, filled from top to bottom with centuries worth of journals — leather-bound books gilded with gold and silver, every detail immaculately painted and carved, the cover opening to expensive parchment made from calves. He tends to absentmindedly run a hand along the spines, eyes glazing over the muted leather colours, before plucking out a book, and reading it through.

Silver only lives a good seventeen years at best, always dying before crossing the pinnacle into adulthood. How much of those seventeen years consist of just… reading? There are, of course, his early years, where he is much too infantile to read and write. But he barely has a few years of reading simple children’s stories before the latest journal is pressed into his hands, and he is briefly explained about the details of his curse.

He pores over the words of those who came before him — the Silvers who came before him, his previous iterations, all dying to form the next one. Their handwriting ghost his own, not just similar but straight up identical, and if he stresses his brain hard enough, he can almost conjure up wispy, fading memories of putting a quill to paper, ink curling across the page in the same, sweeping cursive.

And yet, it is a necessity to read all of it, all over again. Because Silver remembers — but not enough.

His memories are shattered, like an ancient mirror that has been cracked right through the middle, fractured into thousands of tiny, individual pieces. It is akin to a kaleidoscope of lifetimes; when he gazes into this metaphorical mirror, a thousand Silvers stare back, each one reflecting his exact appearance, yet distinct and different in their own ways. And yet each piece is but a shard; Silver remembers only the smallest bits of each past life, the pieces coming together to form a jumbled jigsaw of sharp-edged recollections.

He has lived far too many lifetimes as Silver — the crown prince of his kingdom, the only living heir of their royal family. He has lived far too many lifetimes as a Silver — distinctly different with each rebirth, living a short number of years until the day he inevitably dies.

Silver is immortal, and yet he is not. He lives on as the royal, the prince, a beacon of hope—

But Silver the person changes, with each new looping cycle.

(And so he reads through their journals, no matter how much it exhausts him.)

Many a time, his gaze wanders to his bedroom window.

As the sole heir to the royal family, Silver resides in the largest chambers of the castle, a sprawling set of multiple rooms, from a drawing room to receive guests, to his private bedroom where he slumbers at night. What this also means is that he is privy to the best views of everything within his kingdom, from the area stretching across the castle grounds, to the rest of the kingdom beyond tall and guarded stone walls.

There are many things for him to peer at, but today, he is gazing at the soldiers’ barracks again. They have their own section of the castle, tucked out of the way, but Silver can view them from the sanctity of his study, a room where he pens his thoughts in his journal and reads through old ones.

The emotion that dwells within him is nigh imperceptible, difficult to describe. It feels as though someone has tied a rope around his ribcage, double-knotting it and pulling it tight before tugging at it, and pulling him forward. There are twinges and pangs that cross his heart, a hollow cavern yawning as his soul collapses into itself.

He feels this as he stares out the window at the soldiers training in their courtyard. His eyes fixate on the swords in their hands, at the way they slash and thwack their weapons against straw-stuffed training dummies. Occasionally, he will spot the soldiers gathering together, jumping and yelling as two of them spar with wooden swords, all of them oblivious to his peeping.

He wants this. He longs for this. He—

“Your majesty?”

Silver blinks. It takes him a split second, pulling himself out of his thoughts, shoving away the deep desires that permeate his heart, but he quickly turns around, eyes fixating on the familiar figure in the doorway.

“Malleus,” Silver greets, shoulders relaxing as a smile slips onto his face. Of course it is Malleus; there are few who have his explicit permission to enter without needing to knock, and his physician is one of them. He waves his hand, ushering him in. “How long have you been standing there? Come on in, take a seat wherever you’d like. And what have I said about the formalities?”

Malleus is here for another check-up, and Silver gladly acquiesces. He can think of no other person he trusts more with his very life and soul than Malleus himself. He allows the man to lead him through familiar routines, magic permeating his body as he searches for something Silver cannot see, before shifting to more physical methods of testing Silver’s health.

Still, as Malleus works in a near-silence, preferring to focus and get his duties done before they can relax and spend some time together, Silver cannot help his thoughts from wandering off again. His desires are not new; he has seen them expressed across multiple journals, scrawled in identical, curling scripts across expensive parchment. The desire to pick up a weapon, to learn to fight and defend, to learn how to wield a blade like a true prince — that is what he so desires.

But he is frail, and the council insists that he stays in, that he can learn to fight once they break the curse. So never, Silver thinks bitterly, eyelids slipping shut as he feels cold claws brush against his forehead. Never in this lifetime, and not while I’m alive.

Malleus is many things.

To the populace, he has many names, many signifiers, viewed in many different ways. He is a blessing and a curse, for his magic is by far the only thing that can cure their prince, but all of it comes at the cost of his very existence itself: A fae; a deplorable, wicked creature; a monster that is the very scum of the earth itself. The history of their kingdom is written in the blood of their ancestors, shed through grievous wounds inflicted by the sharp claws and gleaming maws of the fae that slaughtered them all.

To the nobles, the members of the council who govern over the kingdom in Silver’s stead, making decisions on his behest, Malleus is something they tolerate. They do not speak of what will happen after the curse is broken and Silver is cured, but Silver knows, from their whispers and sly glances, from the words penned by the others who came before him, that they wish for nothing more than to rid the world of the last of the wicked — not, and never, fair — fae.

Humans gaze upon Malleus with distrust, wariness, abject hatred.

But for Silver, Malleus is one simple thing alone.

To him, Malleus is his friend.

There are two distinct points in the history of Silver’s incarnations: Before Malleus, and After Malleus.

The difference is like night and day. The journals of before are dismal and depressing, imbued with a bone-deep loneliness that carried all the way through into the parchment pages, stained in the very ink used to scrawl thoughts across the pages. The Silvers of that time tried — truly, they did — to cling to hope, to believe in what their people believed: that one day, their prince would be freed from the shackles of his horrific curse.

But with the passing decades, the many years, the many Silvers that lived and died, they all seemed to suffer from the same truth: there was no cure in sight.

And then there was Malleus.

The guards found a young fae child today, lurking in the borders between what remains of the valley and the kingdom, his own handwriting reads, the parchment yellowed with age, the ink long-since dried. This, Silver knows, is the first point at which Malleus is mentioned, though not yet by name, tucked away in a notebook he recognises by the distinct fern-green colour of its cover. Even now, as I write this, I still cannot believe the abysmal state he was in upon meeting him. No child, whether human or otherwise, should have that many injuries on their body, and though I have had a stern word with those who found him, I fear for his safety.

He shall remain with me for the time being.

Though Silver does not have favourite journals — for such a concept is lost on him when all the journals are such a drag to read, recounting the day-to-day experiences of his past selves, a depressing fog seeming to permeate every page of words — this one is perhaps the closest one to such a concept. Because this journal is different — he clings to every word, phantom feelings of a fierce protectiveness flaring within him, as though this particular incarnation has stirred somewhere deep within him and seized his soul.

It is so painfully obvious how much his past self had cared for Malleus — taking care of him, granting him such patience and endless kindness, spending time with him teaching him the human tongue, of how to read and write. There is a page filled with endless delight upon learning the fae’s name, ink smudged together where the page reads Malleus. Their activities did not end at the crude essentials; there are sweeping recounts of games played together, of crayon drawings and delicious platters of sweet treats — and Silver aches when he reads every word of it, possessed by a longing to return to those simpler times, when Malleus was not his physician, and was merely his friend.

And this care is made so apparent by the last few pages, the cursive made shaky by the cold, approaching winds of Death. To the next Silver, it reads, take care of Malleus. If there is any hope of breaking this curse that ails me, it lies within the powers of the fair folk. And yet, the rest of the page is filled with sentiments, rather than explaining how Malleus is the key to breaking the curse:

I wish this could last forever, these sweet days of playing together. For much of my life, I have been haunted by a bleak loneliness, isolated by my circumstances, and haunted by the weight of all our pasts. I have never had any companions my age, and I know from my readings that all of my predecessors shared the same lonely fate. To indulge in such fleeting luxuries, to have someone to speak to as though we were on the same level, intimately so— it is a happiness unlike anything I have ever felt before.

Blotchy circles stain the pages, the ink smeared in places.

Things may be different from now on. I understand that the council wishes for him to begin his work when the next cycle begins. And it is with that knowledge that I must remind the next Silver: Malleus may be our physician, and he may be tasked with breaking our curse—

But before that, before any of that, he is our friend.

Never forget that, for as long as we may live.

“Thank you for joining me today.”

Wispy trails of steam rise from two cups of tea, sitting in elegant saucers. Before Silver, and in the middle of the round tea table, is a small spread of sweet delicacies: scones accompanied by small glass jars of jam; finger sandwiches, some filled with goat’s cheese and roasted pepper, others filled with cucumber and salmon; and a small, round cake, tiny enough that it’s perfect for just the two of them.

“Of course,” Malleus replies, his voice smooth as usual. He raises his head slightly, slitted-eyes roaming over the tea-time spread before them, before he dips his head. “I thank you for the invitation, your majesty.”

“We have been over this many times, Malleus,” Silver says, unable to hide the exhaustion that spills into his voice. “You need not refer to me by such formalities.”

He knows why Malleus does so, of course. The answer is written across several different journals — It is difficult for him to reacquaint himself with us in each new cycle, and I truly cannot blame him. How alienating must it be, to witness someone you grow close to, time and time again, look upon you with no familiarity in his eyes? There is another reason too, though one of mere speculation, for Malleus has never confessed the truth by his own tongue — Earlier today, I witnessed a council member chide Malleus for regarding me with such familiarity during our meeting. I do wonder if this may be another factor into those needless formalities.

Thankfully, Malleus always obliges whenever Silver asks this of him — though whether it is because Silver is his prince, or because Silver is his friend, he never knows. “Is there any occasion for this meeting, Prince Silver?” Malleus asks, as Silver beckons for him to help himself, unwilling to dig in first when the fae’s eyes are flickering over the food, glinting with hunger. I wonder if he has forgotten to eat again, Silver thinks. Malleus carries over a scone and a sandwich with his utensils, leaving the cake intact. “Not that I mind it, by any means; it is always a pleasure to spend time with you.”

“There is no special occasion,” Silver answers, finally reaching for the spread as Malleus cuts into his meal. “I… only wished to spend time with my friend.”

Their relationship is a strange, tenuous thing. There is undoubtedly a bond there, from the way that Silver always feels so safe and secure in Malleus’ presence, and the gentle way that Malleus treats him, always appearing whenever Silver calls for him. There are even some rare occasions where the facade of dutiful physician slips, a careful veneer crafted for the sake of survival in the court, and Silver relishes those times, watching as Malleus’ expression sours, the stinging barbs that spit from his mouth more endearing than his usual regal elegance.

But all the same, compared to the earlier journals after Malleus’ appearance, filled with much more warmth and life — even as he learnt his role, Malleus would still happily chat with those Silvers, accept his offers to play games, spend the night with him on many occasions — there is a gap between them now. Driven by age, driven by time, and driven by the eternal, scathing judgement of the many humans of this kingdom, who cycle in and out of life and death, but are all fuelled by the same spiteful hatred and prejudice, taking it out on the only fae they know.

Still, Silver tries his best. He knows Malleus does too.

He sees it in the way the fae’s shoulders relax, expression smoothing out at the edges. “In that case,” Malleus says, after a moment’s pause, “let us indulge. How have you been lately… Silver?”

It is a good day for the two of them, Silver reflects. They drink their cups of tea and drain the pot of its excess drink, and the tray of delicacies are filled with nothing but crumbs by the time they’re done.

Even the cake, a dessert regarded with conflicting feelings by Malleus, is finished by the end of it. For once, Malleus eats his slices with a small smile, both their forks scraping the bottom of the plate as they help themselves to their fill.

Death no longer scares him, unlike everyone else. Death, in its own way, is a comfort, an inevitability: Silver knows he will reach his demise at the same time, at the same age. Very few people can ever be privy to such knowledge, going through their lives not knowing if they will pass on at age fifteen or fifty.

In that vein, what does it matter if Silver chooses to speed up the process?

He is not allowed proper access to weaponry. The council states that it is because there is no need for him to pick up a blade when he has guardsmen patrolling the halls around his room at all times, but Silver knows better. This is not the first time he has longed to die earlier than he usually does; he can count the other occasions on two of his hands, based on cryptic journal endings dated months earlier than they usually do.

To an extent, a part of him wonders what the point of it is. He will die, inevitably; why inflict such pain and suffering if he knows he’s going to come back? What is the point of it all?

The point, Silver tells himself, is that there isn’t one. He’ll always come back. He’ll always return — and so why should he languish and rot in his bed as his body slowly gives out on him? Why waste those months feeling his muscles weaken and his grasp on reality slip?

Why not do everyone the honour of ending it early, ending it now?

(The silver blade of the dagger, requested from some rookie soldier who knows no better than to deny this particular request from the prince, is cold against the flesh covering his heart.)

Silver is so, so tired. His life is stagnant, unchanging; he lives and he dies the same person, the same name, the same cursed prince of the same bloody kingdom, every childhood filled with days of reading the same handwritten journals signed with the same, stupid name.

When will he be allowed to rest? The weight of a legacy, the weight of his people’s hopes and dreams, drag him down, like impossibly heavy weights that are shackled to his limbs, pulling and pulling until he’s flat against the ground. He never asked for this — and god, it’s so selfish to even think of that, but it’s true.

Nobody ever thinks about him, Silver the person. They are only ever concerned with Silver the prince, Silver their saviour.

Except—

A memory flashes to mind, unbidden — of twisting, dark horns and raven-spun hair, and slitted green eyes that crinkle at the corners as he smiles at him.

(His hands tremble.)

Malleus.

The name fills him with an ache. If there is anything Silver can take comfort in as he straddles the line between life and death, it is simply that Malleus will always be there. Malleus is a constant throughline throughout Silver’s life, and while Silver may ebb and flow, weaving in and out of the many, many years of a fae’s long lifespan, Malleus will always be there.

And though the thought of that face, rendered a child once more in its shock and sadness, causes his chest to knot itself with hesitance and reluctance, Silver steadies himself.

The humans may come and go, live and die, but Malleus will always remain.

(And the blade plunges down.)

[nengpanet]

10/23/2023

why do you keep doing this to yourself?

why do you ask when you already know the answer?

do you think the blow would make it easier? or do you expect to be lied to to make you feel better?

why do you turn your head to the other direction when your instincts are screaming for you to run?!

you are so darn pathetic, I can’t even look at you without cringing 🤦🏻‍♀️

why? are the screws really turning loose?

when do you realize that people don’t really care, they have their own lives and problems to attend to.

i am just so lonely these days 😔

I don’t know how to handle the hurricane of thoughts in my mind and the tsunami of feelings overwhelming me these days.

I don’t know how to feel anymore

I am so used to being irrelevant, that when I get attention I over think on it. I feel that everything i was is temporary which is true and although I tell myself that, my heart crumbles and bleeds. the worst is i have no one to tell. I know I have the Lord with me all the time, I just feel so tired. I want a hug 😞