#I like the idea of my ghost self floating around on stage and doing cool tricks while playing ^^
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Rock band self insert ghost guitarist board for myself ^^ 💙👻🎸
👻 A Little Piece Of Heaven - Avenged Sevenfold [Guitar Cover] - Bailey Leer Music
👻 I Kissed A Girl - Katy Perry [Metal Guitar Cover] - Toto Plays Guitar
[All images and music belong to their creators]
#I like the idea of my ghost self floating around on stage and doing cool tricks while playing ^^#Maybe she's in a band that consists of monsters#ghost aesthetic#ghost self insert#self insert aesthetic#guitarist aesthetic#band member aesthetic#rock music aesthetic#self insert#minors please dni#music
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skinship - kisses
in a relationship where your boyfriend finds physical affection rather awkward, you’d best believe it would’ve taken some time for him to warm up to the idea of skinship- skin to skin, a hand on his, cheeks crashing together as close as possible. but the patience comes at a good cost- mark has several ways to close the distance between you.
previous (lightswitch)
summary: it shouldn't be this hard to go about kissing mark.
-
something you never expected at the start of your relationship was mark’s initial hesitance to kiss you.
of course, naturally, it takes some time for two people to cross their own boundaries of comfort, to enter, invade, and conquer another’s territory of personal space. some people forego this careful caution in a budding relationship, and dive right into one another. neither you or mark are some people.
and it’s not that you think mark is particularly bold: you know he isn’t very upfront and confident in expressing his feelings for you. you’ve known this from the very start, when his friends had to literally push him to ask you out, and the very awkward first conversation you had. you know he can get a bit shy, but part of you always thought, that every now and then, he’d have bursts of the courage that he has when he’s on stage. mark can definitely be suave, and cool, and charming, but mostly when he’s in his element and knows exactly what he’s doing.
right now, in this moment, he has no idea what he’s doing.
the credits of the Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle are starting to roll, and you’re stuck frozen in the burrow you’ve made in the fold of the sofa, head resting on his shoulder as his arm is wrapped loosely around your side. it’s been holding you like this since the halfway point of the movie- you didn’t notice, but he let out a sigh of relief and satisfaction when he succeeded in placing it there. he stretched, arms going as high as they possibly could, before his limb wandered and found its way pulling you closer to him. cliche, he knows, but a win for him nonetheless. he had to hold back his grin when you leaned into his body.
at first, you could feel his fingers ghosting the frayed threads of your jean shorts, like his wrist was stiff and his hand was afraid to open up so his palm would make full contact with the skin of your thigh. but as the movie progressed, and he constantly broke into his cute, little, hearty giggle that somehow sent his entire body into motion, his hand started to ease, fingers drumming on your supple skin, drawing circles on it, accidentally hitting it when he laughs a bit too hard.
he gulps, and breathes, “wow, that movie was not as bad as i thought it was.”
“yeah, it was pretty good.” neither of you make an effort to move out of the position. a slight shift could mean this rare moment of comforting proximity that you waited so long for would vanish in an instant, like a bubble popping after floating around in glee. so you force your head to continue facing the screen, eyes boring into the tiny, white words that are scrolling away.
before you know it, even the credits have finally come to a close, and your eyes are fixated on the next netflix recommendation, Jumanji: The Next Level that’s about to play in 5, 4, 3, 2,
your head snaps up to turn, still balanced on the ball of his shoulder. when you face him, you’re staring right at him. he does that stupidly attractive thing where he turns his head towards you before his eyes land on yours, and your eyes are now locked on his. you bite your lip to ease just a little bit of your restlessness, and this movement causes his eyes to dart to your lips for just a split second.
he gulps again.
screw it, you’re gonna have to say something.
“are you gonna kiss me?” oh my god. not that. stupid, stupid, self-sabotage.
his hand flies away from your leg, retreating back to him so he can make huge, sporadic gestures that speak for his panic and awkwardness.
“uhhh, i-” his hand is rubbing at his nose, and though it’s dark and his head is turned away from you once again, the light from the television lets you see the pink tint that begins to dust his cheeks. “i mean, if you, if you, um, want me to,”
you don’t know why you find this so cute- you literally felt just as awkward as he does a second ago, but seeing him freak out somehow fortifies you to prod at him a little more. besides, you realise that if you don’t make a move now, after at least a month and a half of going out with him, mark’s probably never going to.
your face scrunches up into a chuckle and you don’t take your eyes off him- “well, do you want to?”
“i mean, i-i totally do want to,” his hand is on his chest, and it comes down as he points at you with his thumb, “i’m just really scared that you- don’t? i don’t know,” mark leans forward from the couch to run his fingers through his hair, and you tug at his shirt sleeve multiple times to pull him back.
“i do, mark, i really do.”
“um, okay! great. cool,” he squeaks out, and his movements to almost close the gap between your faces are so mechanic, and panic settles onto his mind and his features, “oh, but i, uh, sorry if i’m a bad kisser or anything, i don’t really get much uh, practice in this, haha.”
you have to turn your face away to hold back a giggle at this cute, shy mess of a boy, before you finally compose yourself, and let one hand gently cup the side of his jaw, and reassuring, “it’s fine. sorry if i’m no good either.”
you smile, and plant the briefest kiss on the corner of his mouth. then you let go.
“now, how was that?”
“t-that wasn’t even a kiss!”
“really?” you laugh, bringing your legs up onto the couch to kneel and face him completely. this time, you hold both of his cheeks in both of your hands before closing your eyes and pressing your lips on his, for a while longer now, and you’re just about to pull away when you feel fingertips ghosting up your jaw, and feel him tilt his head so that his mouth fits perfectly in the crevices of yours.
“what about now?”
“better.”
he shifts his body to fully face you too, and your mouths meld together just a few more times, and the feeling of his fingers gripping at you, lips chasing after yours, drowns out the background noise of kevin hart bickering with dwayne johnson. you’re melted into this moment, and you don’t want it to end.
-
another thing you never really expected from mark was- well, his fear of sudden pecks, those that catch him off-guard, those that come when he least expects them to. they don’t give him any time to react, or prepare, or take a breath so he doesn’t combust when your lips touch his skin.
you’ve made out a few times with him so far in the couple of times you’ve seen him since that very night, and so you thought that he’d appreciate the quick, little kisses, but you probably shouldn’t have assumed.
he’s getting ready to leave your apartment after another movie night, and just before he walks out the door, he hugs you goodbye, and before he can pull back, you sneak a kiss on the tiny corner of his mouth that’s turned up into a smile. or at least, you try to.
he flings himself out of your grasp, head jerking back so fast and hard that you almost tumble into him from the momentum, and both of you stare in complete shock at one another.
“oh, ummm, sorrysorrysorry, haha, awwwkwaaaard!” your hands fly to the air in surrender as if you’ve been caught red-handed, and your feet take slow, tiny steps away from him.
“that’s my bad, oh my god i’m sorry,” your words are drowned out by his, and every cell in you is cringing from embarrassment and from worry and fear that you’ve done something wrong, something you shouldn't have done, did you go too far? are you stupid for thinking that would be okay?
“sorry, i, uh, i think it’s like, muscle memory to move away because haechan and the guys, well, mostly haechan, always tries to do that kinda thing. i-it’s not you! i swear! you’re great! haechan, not so, you know what i mean? like i wanna kiss you too but in that moment my body prepared for fight or flight, you know? oh my god i’m so sorry.” he’s doing that thing with his gestures again, frantically waving his hands to ensure you visually comprehend that it’s not your fault.
this revelation comes like a knife slicing through the tension that once was, and you hide your face behind your hands in relief, giggling at the stark weirdness of it all, but you also can’t shake off the tinge of sadness from the rejection. it wasn’t directed towards you, you know, but you just can’t help but feel a little taken aback by what happened.
he grabs your wrists, pulling you towards him, and encouraging you to try again.
“okay, go on. i’m ready now. sorry. just not used to this.” his cheeks are a deep shade of red, and his eyebrows furrowed in concern.
you’re smiling throughout the entire, brief, kiss goodbye.
nearly six months have passed, and you try to give him a peck every now and then, just to see if he still retracts in fear, and you can see him tense up every time you try.
so you stop.
the last time you’d tried was right before he left for tour, and in your endless contemplation of your relationship (you had way too much time on your hands not to fall down the rabbit hole of thinking), you come to the conclusion that maybe it’s just something you don’t have to do to mark. with mark, for mark. besides, there are other ways to express your love for him anyways- he doesn’t cringe when you run your fingers through his hair, or when you wrap your arms around him in a bear hug from behind. probably because he doesn’t mind when his friends do it too. and it’s not like you can’t kiss him entirely, you just have to make sure he’s fully aware of the sparks that are about to fly when your lips touch, instead of the little zaps of static that come when he least expects them to, the ones that he shies away from.
-
it’s been a week since he’s returned. a week since your suffering has finally come to an end, a week since the longing that filled your entire being to the brim finally drained out when your body collided into his when you embraced after what felt like an eternity. it took everything in you not to jump at him when you saw him at your door, so instead of fighting against your growing excitement, you run straight into his arms, hopping as his hands link together to prop you up.
it’s hard not to tear up- the sight of mark in the flesh is overwhelming and sensational and you’re burying your face into his neck, hands playing with the hair at his nape. what used to be short, clipped ends that pricked at your fingers have now grown into something like a mullet- you remember when you saw photos of him online the other day and started crying because it was a reminder of just how much time was passing without him around. you’re crying, now, too, and mark starts to giggle you can hear just how tired he is from the grogginess of his voice- “aw, babe, are you crying?”
“no.” he tries to nudge at you so you can pull your head back, but you stick to him like a koala wrapped around a tree until he lets go of your legs and tries to tickle you.
“awwwww, nooo! you’re making me want to cry too!” he whines, and you wipe your tears away on the sleeve of your sweater before finally looking up at his face through your glossy eyes. his face has changed, too. his eyebags are puffy, his cheeks are sunken in the slightest bit, and his jawline is more prominent than you remember it to be. his face feels just a little smaller in your hands when you hold him, and you’re staring, wondering if it’s been so long that you’ve simply forgotten the tactile sense of touching him, feeling him.
before this can spur any more tears from escaping, you’re sent into overdrive, since he crashes his lips into yours. the initial shock flickers out and you take in the jolts of electricity coming at you, the storm of repressed zeal and yearning unleashing between the two of you. it’s been so long and yet you can still remember how mark kisses- when he turns his head to nip at more of you, his arms link around your shoulders, and then the next time one hand cups your face, his thumb trailing up and down your jaw, and eventually his mouth strays away from yours, and he plants kisses all over your face, trailing down to your neck, and then… he doesn’t have to tell you he missed you for you to know.
you’ve seen him almost everyday since he’s come back- he likes to come over just to catch up on sleep in your room as you study. just so you can spend a little more time in your day with one another. there have been more cuddles, more back massages (you even gave him one this time), more sitting in his lap, and he even tries to pick up the skill of braiding your hair. so far, you’ve stuck to your resolution of not stealing pecks out of the blue- so the only thing there isn’t more of is kisses. it’s good, you think- you let him initiate and then you return, so you’re sure you don’t have to take him by surprise.
tonight, you’re in the middle of submitting an assignment, when you hear your phone ping from across the room. then it pings, again and again, in succession, and you’re about to go over and read the messages before it blows up into a full phone-call, the marimba ringtone blaring through the speakers.
it’s johnny, and in the split second before you answer the phone, you can only assume the worst has happened- you know mark’s with him, they had a company dinner to celebrate the end of their tour- what, did he get into an accident? did he pass out? did he-
“hello? y/n?” there’s a sense of urgency in his voice, and the curiosity is really starting to eat you alive.
“hey, john, what’s up? is everything okay?” you hear a groan in the background, and it turns into a long, howl-like wail that subsides into sob.
“yeah, uh, not really. you heard that? that’s uh, it’s mark. i think he’s had too much to drink, and it’s not like he’s never gotten drunk before, he’s definitely had more before, but i’ve never seen him this, uh-”
“is that y/n?!” you can hear mark hiccup, “y/n! baaaaaaby babe y/n!” he’s still crying, and you’re so worried. mark hasn’t really expressed much sadness ever since he returned, and most of the time he’s very frank with his emotions- so if he was ever sad about anything, you’d think you would’ve heard about it by now.
you can hear someone else shushing him, and johnny continues- “i think he really wants to see you right now, so can we just drop him off at yours? you can just text me your address, i don’t think he’s in a state of mind to give directions right now.” the sobbing is still ongoing, albeit a tiny bit more muted than it was before.
“um, yeah. of course. i’ll send it to you. is.. is he alright? what happened?”
“well, i’m not very sure, actually. he was fine at the start, and then started to get all giggly like he normally does when he’s had a few glasses, and then he had a tiny bit more, and got all sappy. and now we’re uh, we’re here. he does keep mentioning that he misses you, though. which i don’t get- since i’m pretty sure he spent the entire week with you, so….”
“right….okay. thanks johnny. has he like, thrown up or anything?”
“uhh, nope. don’t think so. hopefully he doesn’t. or hopefully he does. he’ll probably feel better after.”
“yeah. you can call me when you get here, i’ll buzz you in. see you!”
you hang up, and are left alone only with the many questions you have, and wow, you’ve never felt more nervous in your entire life. not when you did that interview for a scholarship, or when you had your finals, or when you drove for the first time. this imminent fear is much more terrifying- especially because you were under the presumption that you knew exactly what was happening. in everything else you feared the unknown, the uncertainty of it all, but this, you feel like you were supposed to know- you thought there was nothing between you and mark, thought he was just as transparent as you had been with him.
this week had been complete bliss for you, having him in close proximity again. you’re treasuring every moment with him much more now, holding everything right to your heart, actively storing every scene of him in your hippocampus for later viewing. what could’ve gone wrong? was that not enough? what’s changed? you can only wander around your apartment as your mind runs wild. is he stressed? is this some cathartic release? does he suddenly hate what he’s doing?
the wait is painfully long- almost making the four months without mark cease to nothing, and you try everything not to think about him. you submit the assignment, you try to beat your record on minesweeper, you watch a couple of youtube videos but lose interest, and text a close friend for emotional support. before the soul-crushing impatience can actually kill you, you hear the ringing on your intercom, and you’ve never pressed the accept button so fast.
you don’t even wait for them to ring your doorbell. that would just cause more delay. you open the door right away, and peek outside, and the lift doors burst open and mark’s whines reverberates along the tight corridor. johnny’s carrying him piggyback, and the sight of him like this makes you so, incredibly sad- it pulls at your heartstrings and you feel suffocated by the tightening hold that it has on you. if he wasn’t so upset, maybe you would’ve laughed at how cute and snug he looks stuck onto johnny’s back.
mark’s face morphs into a giddy smile when he sees you, letting out a garbled call for you, and you greet johnny as he slips his shoes off to carry him into the living room and plop him onto the couch. you begin to untie his shoe-laces so you can get his shoes off, and you sigh, “thanks so much for your help johnny. do you need anything? need a glass of water… or?”
“no, i’m good. taeil’s waiting downstairs, anyway.”
you walk him to the door with mark’s shoes, placing them right at the entrance. “right. well, um, thanks again! hope you guys get back safe. i’ll see you around.”
“yup, see you. hope he’ll be okay.”
the door is shut, and you can finally focus all your attention on the boy that’s caused you so much concern in the past thirty minutes. you sit right by his head on the couch, and when you try to get rid of the denim jacket he’s wearing, he stirs.
“baaabe?”
“hey, markie. what’s got you all upset?” you kneel on the floor so you can slip the jacket right off of him, and his swollen, tear-filled eyes are following you as you move. when you get close enough, you’re taken aback because he smooches you, missing your lips completely, and the sweet, gentle kiss lands on your chin.
it’s the first time he’s ever done that- first time he’s ever gone in for a kiss without you looking- and you have to sit and blink to try and figure out if you’re imagining things.
his hand reaches out for you, lips still puckered as he tries again and again to kiss you anywhere on your face, and as intriguing as it is, it’s more concerning since it’s mark. your mark- the one that didn’t really seem to like it when you did this, the one who pretty much repelled away from any of the sudden pecks you gave him.
you sweep his hair to the side, and before you can even try asking again, his hand falls limp, and he drawls, “you don’t wanna ki-kiss me anymore.” tears are starting to well in his eyes again, and you have to force yourself not to give up on how confusing this entire situation is.
“what? babe, who told you that?” you’re chuckling, but trying not to, because he’s literally about to cry ohmygodwhat.
“yoooooou,” he whines, “you haven’t kissed me since i, i got back!”
you brush a tiny droplet from his eye with the pad of your thumb, and then go back to stroking his hair. you try not to show your incredulity, but it’s a little hard when you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. “but i have! we even kissed yesterday, mark! remember?”
“yeaaah we kissed! but i kissed you.” he’s so funny- even as his eyes are closed and he faces the ceiling, he still has to point at himself and then at you when he says this, and then he pauses and continues, “you haven’t tried to kiss me since i left. like, reeeaaally tried. and i can’t figure out whhhhhy.”
oh. what?
“well, markie, right now i don’t really wanna kiss you since you’re kinda stinky,” you try to joke, but his eyes shut even tighter and he’s about to burst into tears again, “noooooo! i’ll go brush my teeth-”
“but didn’t you say you’re not used to it? i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable. you didn’t seem to like it very much.”
“but i diiiiiid! i missed you so much when i was away,” a hiccup. “and then i felt so sad,” another hiccup. “because i remembered how sad you got the first time,” and another hiccup. “and then when i got back i was soooo excited for you to do it, so i could do it back to you, and you never did.” his mouth turns into a pout, and his nose sniffles.
this is what he was upset about? no way. there is no way he got so sad because you decided not to kiss him out of the blue anymore. it makes your heart swell in confusion- because, what the hell, mark is just, for the lack of a better word, so darn cute. you can’t believe that this, out of everything you could’ve had a miscommunication about, is what he was hiding from you.
“awwww, i’m sorry babe. i really thought you didn’t want me to.” you coo, and lean in closer to press your lips to his forehead. “look! i’ll give you sooo many right now!” you kiss him all over his face, and the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile, and he starts to giggle, complaining that it tickles.
“but why didn’t you tell me? i would’ve done it if you’d asked.” you begin to trace your finger all over his features, stopping at his nose to boop at it.
he heaves out a sigh, and you can tell he is a mere minute away from dozing off to sleep with how slowly he speaks, “i dunno, it just seemed silly to tell you. but this, it’s probably even sillier.”
you pinch at his nose. “yeah, i’m glad you know, mark.”
you know you once said that a small peck on the lips didn’t mean much to you, but right now, it’s your favourite way of showing him you care. just the thought of both of you unknowingly reciprocating the exact same yearning for each other is so amusing, and it gives you butterflies to know just how similar you are to one another. it’s more than simple skin on skin- it’s when two lines, so parallel and alike, tend towards one another and meet in an oblique. and though these lines have to part afterwards, they curve, bend, and loop to find their way back. you’ve never believed in infinity- it’s stupid to think that anyone or anything is completely limitless- but in this moment you can only wish for your lines to join and travel endlessly.
when you return with a face towel to wipe his dried tears and snot away, you give him your sweetest, last kiss goodnight.
-
a/n: ahhhhh lol sorry for taking a while for this update (if anyone's been waiting hahahah) i was busy with exams and decided to finally take a break to finish writing this! i've started to realise that every time i start writing i feel so accomplished, and then by the time i get to the end i just feel like the end product is disappointing aaghdaghag lol
#mark fluff#mark au#mark oneshot#mark blurb#mark imagine#mark fanfic#mark lee#mark lee au#mark lee fluff#nct 127#nct dream#nct au#nct fluff#nct blurb#nct oneshot#mark angst#nct angst#mark imagines#haechan#i mean#he's kinda mentioned#idk#nct#nct fanfic
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Cardigan - Rafe Cameron
Request: heyy for the ts anthology, can u do one for cardigan with rafe? love ur writing🤍
TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist
_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._
The summer you turned thirteen was the same summer your dad showed up again. Driving the same lemon of a car that he’d pulled out of the driveway in when you were six, he looked like he hadn’t aged. Or maybe you just didn’t remember him all that well because his face felt the same but you were different. When you missed your best friend’s birthday, a trip to the gymnastics gym on the mainland and a towering cake with fondant replicas of all her favorite things, she was rightly pissed.
Thirteen felt monumental, like the movie the two of you had snuck onto your mom’s Verizon bill, and you had both made a pact that you would be there for each other no matter what. That promise included birthdays and, more seriously, dads who showed up after seven years of radio silence because they didn’t want to “miss anything else”. But you didn’t mention your dad because hers was so great and you felt a little like you were floating on an island and no one could understand you enough to reach it. But then you missed her birthday and she swore not to speak to you and that felt more crushing than the dad thing until her brother stepped in. Always the one playing referee in when you fought, Rafe was a few years older and, in your mind, a lot smarter.
It felt pretty important that an older boy would make the time to talk to you, especially when he had to know that his sister was avoiding you at all costs. He’d just gotten his permit and, like any good brother, showed up in the car he wasn’t supposed to drive with a minor in the passenger seat, to take you around the island for the afternoon.
“My mom said she thinks we’re gonna move.” You mentioned, less casually than you would’ve hoped. The windows in the truck were rolled down and you had your legs up, feet placed precariously on the window ledge. There was a particularly nasty bruise on your knee from falling off your skateboard three days ago and a few short hairs you’d missed shaving. You were relatively new to both shaving and skateboarding so there were bound to be mistakes, you just wished they were less visible.
“Off the island?” Rafe asked, concern etched into his tone. You assumed the concern was for his sister, what would Sarah do if you moved? Who would put up with all her antics?
You shook your head, “to the cut.”
“Why?”
“She can’t afford the house on her own anymore and my dad has been lousy with child support.” You repeated back all the things she had said to you. Why she didn’t take him to court like the other kid in your grade with divorced parents was beyond you. Rose told her that it was the only way to ensure he paid what he was supposed to but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to hold him accountable.
Can’t believe you’re gonna be a pogue.” He said it like it meant something worse than you moving to the mainland.
“It’s not forever. My grandma’s house is there, we’re gonna stay with her until we can get back up on our feet.” You shrugged, “at least my dad’ll stay away then.”
But you dad wasn’t the only one who kept their distance. It felt like the distinction over your mother’s life choices held a greater impact on your friends than they had let on. A year into pogue life and Rafe seemed to disappear almost completely. It had always been an odd kind of friendship in the first place but you’d thought that it could’ve withstood a change in address.
Sarah kept in touch, unbothered by labels or mailing addresses. She’d been to your grandma’s a hundred times before you moved and she continued to go there to see you after. The two of you played in the backyard, doing tricks on the trampoline until gossiping about kids at school became more important than cartwheels. You’d lay there whispering as if someone might overhear, telling each other stories from the week that you were separated. Rafe always came to pick her up, staying in the car and honking the horn for her but never coming over to see you.
It felt a little lonely even though you technically retained most of your friends.
-
In tenth grade you got the role of Eponine in the teen camp production of Les Miserables that the local theatre was putting on. You were technically sharing the role with another girl your age but you couldn’t help being excited nonetheless. The boy playing Marius was in two of your classes, a senior who had lofty city dreams and a nice smile. He flirted almost constantly with you, brushing your hair back, telling you how pretty you were, inviting you out after practice. You told Sarah you were “pretty sure” you were on your way to having your first real boyfriend.
But maybe the ominous casting of Eponine over your life should’ve been hint enough that things weren’t destined to work out that way. The boy who played Marius had an actual girlfriend, home from vacationing with her family in time to watch her boyfriend on stage, and you were supposed to accept that he was just “connecting to the character” when he was with you. Either way, your On My Own struck a different chord in you and after the show was over you didn’t join the other cast members in the lobby to greet people.
“So when you get to New York...do I get to leak all those videos of you and Sarah doing your Genie in a Bottle routine?” Rafe asked, pulling a chair next to you at the makeup table. Yours was halfway off but you’d stopped scrubbing at your face to stare at yourself in the mirror. Self-pity was a powerful procrastinator.
“You’re supposed to be in the lobby.” You pointed out, ignoring his comment, “I look like a ghost raccoon that just climbed out of a dumpster.
“Now there’s an analogy.” He laughed and picked up the cotton pads you had sitting on the counter, soaking one in micellar water and turning your head to face him.
You bit your bottom lip as you tried to keep your composure. It’d been a while since you and Rafe had been alone and last time he was just your best friend’s cute older brother. Too old for you and way out of your league but you were fifteen now and seventeen didn’t feel so far away.
But Sarah was your best friend and she would be mortified if she found out that you had even entertained the idea of her brother, let alone had serious thoughts about it.
“I’m sorry,” you said as he swiped the cotton pad over your cheek.
“What for?”
“I know we’re all supposed to go out tonight for dinner but I kinda just wanna go home.” You replied.
“Sarah might’ve let it slip about-”
You groaned, “don’t even say his name.” You weren’t sure if it was embarrassment at having let yourself totally believe he liked you but hearing Rafe bring it up made you feel even worse.
“Hey, you’re so much better than that loser,” He insisted, “I’ll beat the crap outta him though, just say the word.”
-
It was that same year, just as school was ending, that you turned sixteen. A short stay in the cut at your grandma’s house had helped your mom get back on her feet. A new job, better than the one that let her go, afforded a moderately sized house back on Figure Eight and a birthday with all the friends that had left the two of you behind.
Sixteen felt a little more important than thirteen had, especially because, for two whole weeks, time suspended and you were technically only a year younger than Rafe. You still hadn’t told Sarah that you liked her brother, though she did seem a little suspicious when the crush on your co-star dissipated almost overnight. The boys of the past had no hold over your growing infatuation with Rafe. Maybe it was foolish but you couldn’t help thinking that maybe it wasn’t.
Especially not when he showed up at your house the same way he had when you were thirteen, though this time he had his actual license and not just a permit. He told you it was birthday drive around the island, that he was in charge of stalling you while Sarah set up a surprise party at your house.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to tell me that it’s a surprise.” You teased, sipping at the iced coffee that Rafe had brought you when he picked you up. You swished the ice around once before sipping again.
“It’s a party either way.” Rafe replied, shrugging his shoulder.
“So, we’re just driving around until she texts you?” You asked. Rafe turned into the Island Club, circling the parking lot once and then turning back around.
“I’m yours until Sarah says otherwise.” He said, the words erupting butterflies in your stomach. You could practically feel yourself heat up thinking about what those words could mean if he wasn’t just your best friend’s brother.
“Well...then do you wanna go to the beach?” You suggested, “Jaxon showed me this really cool spot on the south side that’s practically hidden.”
“Jaxon?” Rafe sounded judgmental when he said the other boy’s name, whether he meant to or not.
“Yea, we’ve been on a couple dates. You know him, he took me to prom,” you supplied, thinking of the way Rafe had sulked on the staircase while you and Sarah had gotten your pictures taken on the front lawn of Tanney Hill. The last picture in the bunch, despite his sulkiness, was of you and Rafe. You’d asked and he had obliged, coming down onto the porch to take a picture with you before everyone left for the dance.
It was your favorite picture, even more than the countless ones of you and Sarah or the few of you and Jaxon. He was just a place holder anyway, someone to take your mind off the thing you couldn’t have. Not that it was working, especially when you were driving around with Rafe at the moment.
“I remember him.” Rafe replied, “so this special part of the beach?”
“It’s so pretty.” You confirmed, “Sarah and I went there a couple weeks ago but she only ever wants to sunbathe.”
“Don’t say it like you’re surprised.” He said, pulling his car off to the side of the road when you told him to.
You were out of the car first, letting the door fall shut behind you as you headed up the wooden ramp to the beach. The drop off at the top was a little steeper here than anywhere else, the beach mostly desolate. You stopped at the top of the walkway, turning back to wait for Rafe. He was standing at the bottom of the ramp staring up at you.
“Are you coming up or what?” You called.
“Yeah,” he nodded, walking up the path to you.
“I know Sarah’s planning a big birthday for me, but I’d much rather have this...” you admitted, “just like, coming out to the beach with you...”
“Oh yeah?” He asked, grinning down at you.
“Don’t tell Sarah,” you joked, “she’ll be mad-”
“Why, cause I’m your favorite Cameron?”
Maybe it was being sixteen or maybe it was that you were feeling particularly bold, out here on the beach with just Rafe, no threat of prying eyes to interrupt you. Either way, you had been thinking about telling him for a while now and it felt like the time...even if getting rejected ran the risk of ruining your birthday.
“I know I’m just Sarah’s best friend but...I really like you Rafe.” You said, “and I know it’s like a million to one that you like me back but I just felt like I would explode if I didn’t tell you.” You waited a beat for him to say something and when he didn’t you kept talking, “Sorry, I know this is so weird-”
“It’s not weird.” Rafe cut you off, “I’m just shocked that you seriously think I only see you as Sarah’s best friend.” His tone was teasing as he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek. “You’re so much more than that.”
-
It was Sarah who told you, days before your eighteenth birthday. She’d seen Rafe with someone else when her family took a weekend trip out to Chapel Hill to see a game. There was a girl there, hanging all over her brother. He swore she was just a friend, told Sarah not to tell you, but Sarah wasn’t dumb and she wouldn’t help her brother cover up an indiscretion. So she told you flat out that her brother was cheating on you.
When Sarah first found out that you and Rafe were dating, she had been as mad as her thirteenth birthday. How could you go behind her back and date her brother? The anger dissipated slowly, over the course of the summer it became clear that were not going to leave her in the dust for Rafe. She wasn’t wholly supportive of the relationship but she was supportive of you and if Rafe was who you wanted to be with than she’d be happy for you.
But if she had to choose, it would always be you over Rafe.
“I didn’t want to tell you, I really thought about not saying anything but...you deserve to know.” It was the justification she used as your face fell, all the giddiness from planning your eighteenth birthday fading in the blink of an eye.
“He cheated?” And it felt like a punch to the gut. “Are you sure?”
“He said she was just a friend but...I don’t hang on my friends like that.” Sarah remarked.
You fiddled with the phone in your lap, Sarah’s comments turning over in your head. You could refute them, tell her that you’d just talked to him the night before and he told you how excited he was to see you, how much he loved you. He’d used the word love...that had to mean something right? You could call him, ask him straight away if he was actually cheating, but you suspected that he would only lie to you. And if he wasn’t cheating, if he did tell the truth, would you believe him? Sarah was your best friend and once she had planted the seeds of doubt in you, they seemed to flourish there.
You didn’t say anything else about it to Sarah that night and when Rafe called to talk, like he always did, you pretended that everything was fine. But that could only last for so long. A week before your party, on the same special part of the beach that Rafe had first kissed you, things ended. Rafe had sworn to Sarah that the girl at school was just a friend but he couldn’t lie to you, and he didn’t try to either.
“It was a mistake,” he insisted, as if it was the type of thing you could brush off.
“But you still made it.” You replied.
“I didn’t mean to.” Rafe didn’t have any good reasons for why he had cheated on, only that he had and that, since you now knew, he was apologetic. “I don’t even talk to that girl anymore. She meant nothing to me.”
“Obviously she meant more than we did.”
Rafe had been it for you for a long time. He seemed so out of your league and you had thought a million times that you would’ve done anything for him. He was the ideal for everything that you wanted and for a while, when you had it, had him, it had felt like a dream. But now you were waking up to reality and it wasn’t a sunset on the beach.
“I love you.” He said it like it was something you were neglecting to remember.
“Not enough.”
#rafe fic#rafe imagine#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks imagine#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks fanfic#outer banks fic#obx fic#obx fanfic#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#ts anthology series#collecting stories
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HS Epi: Meat p22 reaction
So, John was doing something vaguely relevant to the plot.
Does that mean that whatever that was in the wallet for him to find, wasn't relevant? Or did Dirk really skip to a point in the future in his narration? I'd think that if a living person was captchalogued in the wallet, that'd be plot relevant.
If so, I wonder if it's more than one. But we're not likely to catch up with both Aradia and Terezi in one go. Also, I doubt Vriska somehow captchalogued herself in this wallet to escape the clutches of gravity. Well, except maybe if after reverse engineering the code for the wallet, she also alchemized a regular wallet besides the 8-ball/wallet combo.
But that makes me think of something else. I wonder what the max storage space of the wallet is... If it's functionally infinite, they have a functionally infinite singularity of questionable intent that might be in need of cleaning up at one point. :P Though it's doubtful.
---
"You’ve been drifting so long that you’ve lost the ability to objectively judge time or depth or distance. It’s getting hard to think about yourself as an objectively limited being. The boundaries of your skin begins to thin and disappear." Oooh, is it the lack of milestones in that plane, maybe, that's causing this introspection? Or is it just part of his ascension to his ultimate self?
"If your perception expands beyond the meat sack of your body, then are you really an individual anymore? Why shouldn’t we become gods? Why shouldn’t we become one God." Sounds like something Dirk might say - I know, funny because Dirk IS saying this, in John's stead. Alternatively, if Alternate Calliope is really malevolent, this might be her motivation to devouring everything ever. She wants to become UNIVAC.
"You scrunch up your nerdy face and furrow an eyebrow. It seems you aren’t enjoying this train of thought." John's intrusive thoughts are next level.
"Sorry, dude. That’s what’s on my mind right now. I’m having a phenomenological debate in my third ear that’s way more popping than your little hero’s journey into the belly of a quarter-life crisis." For a minute I thought he meant he was debating this with Kanaya, but he put her on hold so I was like: :? Then I realized he said "third ear", I guess that's something akin to the mind's eye, in that he's currently using the narration for his internal monologue.
"It turns out you don’t have time to worry about the voice inside your head, because you hear one outside of it." Ooh! Someone living, one we expect to be out here? And there Dirk goes, burying John's emerging awareness again, for a moment.
"At first you don’t think it’s real." ... Please don't be Alternate Calliope.
"MEENAH: yo blue guy MEENAH: get the shell down here"OOOOOH! She's alive!! ... Well, no, she's still dead, but you know. She survived Lord English, and the Black Hole. Girl's really got spunk. So, that brings her back in the running for candidates for John to give the ring to. ... Speaking of. Did John just, like, shrugged off Lord English's tooth, or is the poison still in his body?
I'm glad we saw her, it means that more people could have survived that were around before the battle (alive or dead), as well as the B2 kids that died during the battle! But uh... What even is still sustaining their existence? I mean, the dreambubbles were created to house them, only Sollux was able to leave through mumbo jumbo class/aspect magic.
"Your whirl around, upside down. You look up, then down. There she is." Hah, yeah, no point of reference, no gravity, so indeed, she could have been every where, relevant to him, that's also why she shouted "down here"!
"She’s clinging to a random server beacon, looking a little the worse for wear but still grinning. You float on down to greet her." Tsssh, she located the server running the LE code??? What could they even do with that, anymore. (How did it even survive.)
At least, I'm guessing it's that server, not the server hosting Rose's walkthrough. :P
So yeah, uh, that server was connected to Doc Scratch's study. In the Green Sun. ... Has it become a non-letal shortcut to Alternate Calliope now?
"JOHN: thank god. i was beginning to think that no one else was alive. MEENAH: im not alive" Hah! Ba-dum tssh.
"JOHN: oh right. sorry. JOHN: i’m glad to see you, is what i meant to say. MEENAH: same MEENAH: i fuckin guess" Yeah, not many of her friends will be left, probably. If any.
"She narrows her blank eyes. Her mouth twists into a frown. Not quite a concerned one, but close enough. You’ll take it." Is she noticing John has become an adult? ... Or yeah it might just be general concern, the situation is alarming enough. I wonder if she knows about Vriska? And what that exactly means to her, 16-year-old Vriska probably being dead for good.
Oh boy, but this is so cool, she's got potential for just as much as the Condesce, who had ties to Lord English. I wonder if she'll be instrumental in the final stages of the epilogues, if Alternate Calliope ends up being the/a end boss.
Can't shake the idea I'd like her to end up on Earth C, but then she'd not have a good role to play in a utopia, I think. But then what is her role in the story from here on out, exactly.
"MEENAH: damn buoy ya look like S)-(IT JOHN: yeah, i know. JOHN: i suffered a mortal wound, and then i threw up on myself." He didn't get better so much as that he walked it off.
"MEENAH: waterboat lord english MEENAH: he bite the bullet or what JOHN: yeah he’s... JOHN: he’s pretty fucking dead. MEENAH: whale MEENAH: theres that at least
There is definitely that, at least." Must feel like an anticlimax to Meenah too, probably. She wasn't around to see the guy bite it that was responsible for their own universe being forced to be scratched.
"You were kind of hoping you’d discover a survivor you could have an actual conversation with. Not that you aren’t glad to see Meenah, but you don’t /know/ her, and she’s not who you were really looking for." Funny how Meenah grew on John so much, what with how she ran him through on at least two occasions. I was thinking at first John was looking for Vriska, but that's just an automatism, a left over from when John still felt something for her. Of course, I forgot about Jade.
"That reminds you. JOHN: hey, uh... JOHN: mee... JOHN: fish? JOHN: (christ.)" Is that supposed to be a fish pun in her name, him using one cause he knows she likes them? Or is it that Dirk may remember Meenah's name (hearsay, in his case, since he's post-retcon - then again, ultimate self), but not John. :P
"JOHN: have you by any chance seen jade around? MEENAH: who da fuck is jade"PFffff, hah! Now she gets a chance as well to broadcast her ignorance in the names of the people in the other parties. 'THEY'RE ALL NAMED CARLOS AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED.'
"JOHN: i mean, REALLY? JOHN: you don’t know jade?" The time she spent a lot of time dreaming in the dreambubbles was before the A1 trolls ever became relevant. On the three year trip, the indication seemed to be they just met a lot of A2 ghosts from alternate timelines in their dreams.
"JOHN: jade’s like, a big deal? JOHN: i thought you were kind of important too?" Well, different circles. Top of class vs. top dog on the play yard.
"MEENAH: you didnt even know my name dog" He knew you were an alternate to Betty Crocker, though. :P
"You’ve never been accused of having stellar people-reading skills. But even you can tell the look on her face says it all right now." Well, just be glad he isn't Jake, or even a death glare wouldn't suffice.
"JOHN: wait a minute. JOHN: do you even know MY name? MEENAH: uhhh" Pfffff, hah! Actually, valid question. What with how she referred to even her friends by last name (okay, that's because they weren't revealed yet), and had all those nicknames for them (and Karkat and Aradia)... Maybe she's just really bad with names.
"MEENAH: like MEENAH: joke? MEENAH: joke somefin" Wrong bespectacled nerd, but I can see why she'd mix them up. :P Close enough, though!
"JOHN: joke is my biological father. JOHN: i mean JAKE! JOHN: jake is his name." No, I think jokes might actually have fathered you. :P What with how he's a trickster and all.
"Halfway through this exchange, Meenah pulls out a small, clamshell-shaped accessory kit, and begins to file her nails." This is starting to turn into an awkward schoolyard conversation between classmates that don't really know each other.
"She almost dislocates her jaw by yawning the moment you mention Jake." Which is funny because Jake could've dislocated her jaw when he pounced on her when he thought she was past Condesce. :P
"You decide to do her, as well as yourself, the favor of completely ruling out the possibility of eliciting any valuable information from this person." No, Dirk, I do think she still has an ace up her sleeve, even if she doesn't even know it yet. But at least maybe now they'll acknowledge the server?
"MEENAH: i aint moved from this floatin hunger trunk lookin piece of shit since i got my bass kicked" Hah, yeah, it does look like a fridge, in Andrew's art style. :P
"JOHN: well, you’re the first i’ve seen too. MEENAH: oh" I wonder who she might have wanted to find, besides Vriska.
"JOHN: so what’s your plan now?" Don't think she has any left, now. You'll have to lead, Johnnyboy.
"JOHN: you just gonna hang around here, in the middle of nowhere, doing nothing forever? MEENAH: thats what ghosts is most good at aint they" It wasn't what she set out to do, initially, though! She hates inertia.
"JOHN: you don’t have to stay here. JOHN: i can take you back with me, to my planet." Aha! It would have all sorts of implications, of course, since she didn't "win" by any measure. So the victory state would not account for her presence. It won't happen just yet, of course.
"Meenah stares at you for an uncomfortably long time. She looks you up and down, like she’s making certain calculations. On the one hand, spending infinity clinging to a fridge-like space computer circling a black hole sounds like a drag. On the other hand, will her coolness and street cred be able to survive any prolonged association with this dumb blue nerd? That’s what she could be thinking, you think. You hope not though, because if true, it would hurt your self-esteem." I give Meenah more credit than that - her attitude is part of a facade - but she could indeed be thinking exactly that. On the other hand, she might actually genuinely not know if he's "fo' real", one, and two, what she'd even do on his planet. ... Also, is John really asking a girl over to his place? He truly IS an adult. :P
"She finally appears to make up her mind. MEENAH: naaah" Hah, as if it's a drag for her. And what's her motivation then?
"MEENAH: ok for one thing genius MEENAH: im dead" Well, that's not a problem, though she wouldn't know. John still has the Ring of Life with him. But I wonder what the other reason is.
Hah, Blaperile points out that Meenah at one point told John specifically not to give her the ring, cause she didn't like how she turned out as Condesce. Right, she might think living is no longer her thing. Which is hilarious for a Life player. Still think John might make the proposition.
Also, she thinks she might not fit in with the others, but she doesn't have to worry. They're all disasters, one and all.
"MEENAH: i wont even last on your planet ill just like MEENAH: fade away or some shit MEENAH: i dont know what happens to ghosts in real places actually but ima guess it goes somefin like that" See also: what ever happened to Aranea after Game Over. :P
"MEENAH: anyway while you was floatin there i came up with my own plan" ? There's not a lot of options here, really. The Black Hole... Mugging John... Lazying about...
"JOHN: what is it? MEENAH: cmere MEENAH: gonna whisper it to you" Option A) she screams. Option B) she mugs him for the ring. Option C) she'll stab him again, assuming he's another hologram self.
"You lean in rather credulously, and bring your ear toward her cupped hand. MEENAH: (nerd)
You pull back, unamused by the prank. What is this, you think. Fucking amateur hour?" Hah, chances are high she just swiped the ring. Or the wallet. Once a Thief... But heheh, still funny how Meenah likes to prank. Seems like Condesce and Sassacre really found one another. :P
"MEENAH: reel cute you wanna be my savior blue boy MEENAH: but the fact is you already helped me out MEENAH: got everyfin i need from you MEENAH: sea ya round sucker! 38)" She putting the ring on now? But uh, she'd spawn on Earth C, right? Or right there?
"She’s laughing her ass off. Before you can react, she jams the button down on the beacon and opens the server. She jumps into the hatch and the door snaps closed behind her." ... What! WHAT??? ... She's not in cahoots with Alternate Calliope, is she? She might just be trying to defeat the end boss herself. At least, if the server still leads to where the Green Sun used to be.
"Oh shit." ... It doesn't lead to Dirk now, does it?
"I think I know what just happened. You might want to check your pockets." So, if she took the wallet and not the ring, that means what's inside the wallet is relevant to the plot!
"Sure enough, it’s missing. The Ring of Life you stole back from Aranea has been re-stolen. Bitch just picked your pocket. You got played, man." Wow. So she's actually decided to go through with getting resurrected. ... Although it could actually be for Alternate Calliope, but then what would even the implications of her resurrection be?? It would be a parallel to how Condy worked for LE. But if there's two alive Calliopes that ended up on Earth C, I suspect there might be an impersonation at one point.
Yeah, so if both wear a Ring of Life/Void... Maybe that'd have funky repercussions as well. Not to mention they're both versions of the same "ultimate self" - although 'our' Calliope's not a god tier, there might be a bleedover again, like with Jade. But Alternate Calliope might want to dispose of Calliope, if she wants to become the only version of them. Then again, she did specifically tell her other to go and enjoy life.
---
I wonder if it'll become relevant at any point that having everyone in the dreambubbles follow you would supposedly grant you the boon of resurrection. Since there's so few people left out here, it seems like it could have become a feasible thing to do. In fact, it might be that this is represented by Alternate Calliope's resurrection, if events really play out like that: Meenah might be the only other ghost left. Unless there are still the other A2 ghosts we're missing, from the character list.
#homestuck#upd8#reaction#spoiler alert#homestuck epilogues#homestuck liveblog#john egbert#meenah peixes#alternate calliope
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Vacillation
This is a follow-up to the previous post. You ever have some magnificently romantic idea that you think is just outstanding and nothing could ever keep that person from you after you've done it? And then something goes completely wrong, either in delivery or message itself... My life in a nutshell.
My first infatuation was in seventh grade. I started writing poetry to this girl I liked under (what I assumed was secret) an abstract email account name. She loved it, and we began talking quite a bit. [Background: I was a SUPER NERD, 120 pounds (soaking wet, on a good day), very little muscle tone or athletic ability, dorky glasses, red hair, and even terrible Wal-mart clothing; the whole spiel] Well she began asking who I was, and of course she was optimistic at first, listing a bunch of the jocks and other popular guys, not that I would tell her anyways. I felt like she really liked me, but wasn't sure if she would like my appearance as much as my personality, so I didn't tell her who I was. The defining moment was walking from break/recess to class and hearing her and my friend talk behind me,
"Hey somebody keeps sending me this poetry and I can't figure out who it is." She said.
"Oh hey let me take a look at that... [email protected]? [quaint email address right? Told you I was a miscreant] Oh that's [insert my name here]’s."
I froze. It's like that feeling when you know you're getting pulled over after speeding or doing something illegal. "Fuck," I thought. But nothing happened. Not until the next recess period... she took all the poems I had written her, threw them down on the ground and slapped me. She slapped me because I wasn't who she wanted to write them for her. (naturally, this was unspoken, but I knew. I knew it was because I wasn't popular or cool or athletic, that I wasn't good enough for her--at least, in her eyes.) Now when there's about 75-100 people in your class, it's kinda hard to live something like that down.
My second infatuation was my friend's girlfriend's little sister. I discovered how to properly hold hands with her, after being berated for doing it wrong by her psychotic older sister. She then went somewhere south for spring break, while I stayed and worked, and was sick the whole time. The entire week I couldn't wait for her to get back and then when she did, I got a call from one of my friends telling me he thought she was going to break up with me. She later did. The reasoning? One of my friends wanted to date her and she liked him more than me; or perhaps it was because instead of giving/receiving my first kiss the day before she left, I gave her a big bear hug. Nice right?
My first love portrayed herself as a naive girl, but in reality she was quite devious. She would date me for a week then sneak out and hang out with my partner from weightlifting class. Then when she was dating him (consequently broke it off with me), she was sneaking out with me! At one point she called and asked me for a ride from the middle of nowhere... she said she'd been drinking heavily with this guy and things started getting heated. A little frustrating, considering [at least I thought] we were dating at the time. I remember sneaking off from a event my senior year to go take vague pictures of the place we used hang out from an extremely far distance--so far they barely turned out. I wasn't hanging on to the person she was at that time, I was hanging on to those little moments of bliss where it was just her and I and a flip-down screen in the back of my white Chevy Blazer. Our only worry was getting her home before her dad woke up (she snuck out). I remember the mornings/days after I would drop her off at 4:30 am and float home in my '97 Firebird, hitting record speeds on county roads and just feeling very content in my sleep-deprived bliss. It wasn't even from sex, at that point we weren't having it, it was just happiness that someone so beautiful would take a chance on me. She's married with kids now, I know because it's all over my news feed.
One time I shoveled seven inches of snow (multiplied by the area of a parking spot) next to my parking spot with the hopes a particular girl would come over. She did. Things got hot and heavy, then I probably said something stupid over the phone later in the week and she said she wanted to be just friends. I got to watch her flirt with (and take home) several guys from the bar that weekend. Good times.
Once I had my landlord's daughter grab me and make-out with me like she was suffocating and needed every little bit of oxygen out of my lungs. Little did I know, her friend liked me and had informed her of this, so when she walked in on us and freaked out I was so incredibly confused why I was even chasing her down, because I didn't know why she was mad! (why was I the one chasing her again? This I cannot say, I feel as if her friend probably should've done that). I had to borrow contact cases and her room absolutely reeked like cat litter. She said she needed somebody to sleep (actually sleep) with. So... while she slept I stayed awake for the most part and rolled around, again, overwhelmed by the smell, lack of cleanliness and lack of respect (the longer I thought the more I disliked it) for her friend's feelings. My roommate told me this girls parents were fine with her doing whatever in her personal life, so I stayed the night. I felt overwhelmed with strong emotions from them in the kitchen that morning, so I left quickly. We went on one date.
One time I met a girl, did the typical day-by-day relationship. She was very open sexually and told me she didn’t want a relationship and it was okay for both of us to hook up with other people as long as we did it with consideration to the other’s feelings-- don’t make it sloppy or obviously. I looked over the bar fifteen minutes later and she was sloppily obviously sticking her tongue down some guy’s throat and her hands down his pants. I was a little frustrated with this and informed her. So she decided to have sex with one of my friends. Seems logical. Then broke his heart a few weeks later by doing basically the same thing.
One time I met a girl, spent the night with her (not overtly sexual, calm down) and then went to visit her several hours away the next weekend. A little background here: We were kicked out of the Jehovah's Witnesses when I was 9, at which an abrupt stage of the utmost debauchery occurred, which left me with somewhat of a skewed perspective on religion. Anyways, almost went to church with her but ran out of time. Yes, I was willing to step outside the box and revisit the ideals I previously abandoned. The next weekend she came back and I asked if she just wanted to stay with me (I really liked her and wanted to date her). No response. No response til I got to see her later wearing something super scandalous, being very flirtatious with all the guys and then having a rough, frank conversation about what I was in relation to her. She's married now, happily; I know because we're friends on facebook :|. Oh and I might've punched a table at some point and began bleeding all over. That was the last time I put myself through physical pain to try and rid myself of the pain inside (other than tattoos, but lets be honest that's more just artistic therapy).
One time I spent a lot of time with this girl, she was a friend, but I always wanted something more with her. She would joke and flirt and casually tease when we would go out together. One time we went to Denver together for New Years with a few other friends. Turns out she really liked the guy I came with, and when he decided to hook up with this other girl she got really depressed and started crying. Then somehow I began to tear up because here was this girl I'd hung out with for quite a while, who I always got along with really well (and we gave each other a bunch of good-natured shit), crying because she can't be with the guy she wants to be and I was just sitting there... like chopped liver. She later ended up breaking up a marriage by hooking up with this lady's husband while on her period (his wife found the evidence). One night sticks in my memory though... I walked her home like a gentleman, she had been kinda flirting with me all night and we were sitting there watching TV. If you've ever gone in to kiss someone and have them completely pull their lips inside their mouth to avoid it, you've felt my pain. She is now married with a kid, and her husband looks... almost exactly like me. Even her best friend was shocked.
One time I met a girl and passed her a note on a fateful March day just before Spring break. She was amazing, and we hung out quite a bit. She had a boyfriend, but ended up breaking up with him. Naturally she told me she didn’t want another relationship right away so I backed off. Then she was trying to rekindle things with him and sent me a text saying, essentially, that we could never speak again. We continued to see each other, rendezvous in the bedroom were a fairly common occurrence. Then she started giving me rainchecks on hanging out, and ghosting me more and more. I casually started seeing someone but was reluctant to dive in because I already had a preexisting relationship going and i didn’t want to ruin it. We spent a night together and then she left to go hang out with another guy she’d been seeing. I received a text that next day about how they were now dating, he was her “main” and if we wanted to continue seeing each other I would have to meet him and have our love triangle be open. All of the sudden she went from not wanting to date anyone to being in a relationship; this felt all too familiar and it didn’t take much self-deprecation to realize that she just didn’t want to date me. Our relationship died down, but we would still leave little notes around for each other complaining about our significant others. Eventually she broke it off with him, and coincidentally I broke it off with my girlfriend at about the same time. We hooked up, but it wasn’t the same. It was good for her but in the back of my mind I felt reluctant... she had shattered my heart twice before this... should I even entertain the idea of going back? We hooked up several times but I my heart wasn’t in it, and red flags were flying up like gravel on a dirt road so I retreated. Now we hardly talk anymore... and I feel nothing.
My girlfriend during that time was pretty amazing, but from the start she stated that it wasn’t a lasting relationship, and that we weren’t meant to be. I did things she didn’t agree with and that was a huge part of our incompatibility and several fights. Also, her manager who liked her for a long time kissed her several times at a party when we first got together, and she did nothing to stop it--- the source of alot of my distrust in her throughout the relationship. She also lied about planning to hang out with one of her ex’s and her roommate caught her up in that lie in front of me--a further setback in the trust tree. I could see in her eyes that she didn’t want anything serious from me. But I liked her companionship; she always wanted to do things with me and usually went out of her way to hang out with me. We had amazing sex, before and after the breakup because I felt comfortable with her. I felt like she was actually there with me, present in the moment, and she wanted to be there. I fell in love with her, and she said she loved me too. After a while, she stopped saying it. After a while, it became clear that I was the only one in love, and it was one-sided. She didn’t want to be in a relationship for her final semester of college and, since all i wanted was her happiness, in the middle of a deluge of tears i broke it off with her. I didn’t want her to feel trapped and I didn’t want her to despise me because I kept her in a relationship. When i finally broke it off I was miserable. I spent nights and mornings in tears and then one day I told her it felt like I was taking it harder than her. She agreed. She said she needed some space. All I wanted during our relationship is her happiness, and if being with me was causing her to be unhappy, all she had to do was voice her opinion. But she didn’t. She remained by my side, unhappy. But at least she stayed. Eventually the sex died down, and it drove me a little crazy; after you’ve had something so good it’s hard to limit yourself-that’s why we have addicts. We were down to negotiating for sex every week. I essentially had to beg for it, and I didn’t want to live my life that way. I distanced myself further, and about a month later she contacted me basically because she wanted to fuck and that’s it. Oh the irony... and i felt so used. I brought it up, started a big fight and we distanced ourselves again. Lately I’ve been so depressed I keep thinking about all the good times we had, despite the bad times that were the cause of the breakup. The other night I went over there and we hooked up. She was reluctant, but I suddenly felt as if it wasn’t because she was worried about me getting attached, it was something else. Then she left all weekend to go to her hometown and tells me she had a “late night and early morning,” “not with her parents,” and “at a drive-in.” So naturally I assumed its with a guy she’s interested in and... for some reason that cuts through me like a hot knife through butter. I guess I always liked that adage of “if you love someone set them free, if they return they were always yours; if not, they never were,” and its starting to feel like she never was, like none of them ever were. In fact, that adage is being falsified more and more by the day. She said she didn’t make out or anything (and I believe her) but the fact of the matter is making out and sex would be the least of my worries. Let me put it this way: If you were married (not like we’re even in a relationship but stick with me here), would you be more perturbed to know your significant other had meaningless sex with someone or stayed up all night talking and cuddling with them? Well either way my prying nature and soft-accusations pushed her to the point of not talking to me again. We were supposed to hang out today (sunday) but she decided to take another trip to her hometown at the last minute, which further attributes to my paranoid delusion that she’s seeing someone. And I really have no right to be angry or paranoid; god knows I’ve hooked up with way more girls since we broke up than she has guys (at least I think so... I have no clue anymore).
Okay I have to skip a few until I have more time, so I'll tell you about the most recent.
One time I was falling for this girl. She had everything I dreamed about in a girl, but she was reluctant because we were at different places in our life. Instead of just chilling out, taking it one day at a time like I've done with the majority of my relationships, I decide I want more. Naturally, the cyclical motion of my thought is enough to drive anyone insane, myself included, so at the end of the night she turned her back and walked away from me. I knew in that moment it would never be the same. I was having trouble because when I want to be with someone, I don't want to be single. If I know what i want then why would I want any other options available? I'm not going to lie, I talk to(and hang out with) some pretty good looking girls. But that's not what it's about, I rarely even ask for a girls name after we dance because I don't come there to pick up girls. I come there to have fun. I didn't intend on realizing how amazing she was after we started to hang out. Anyways we basically stopped talking all week, but I get this crazy idea to get a potted plant, get a stake with her initials (made from reflective mailbox letters that I drilled holes into, put all this work and planning and effort into making her morning special... and she didn't even see it. I thought she was just playing dumb, but when I tipped the dj to play the song I had included on a note (with a link to a youtube video) and her eye's didn't light up I kinda figured something was up. And now she's pulled back to just friends. But I feel this incredible pull to be in a relationship right now... with somebody. I just don't want to be alone anymore. I've been alone in relationships before (no, not self-love, just the only person in it), and I just want something [somewhat] normal for once. Being able to hold a girl's hand and kiss her in public, or tell my friends "this is my girlfriend ....," not "This is ..., she's my kinda sorta... pseudo... friend with benefits but without benefits." But now I feel myself at a crossroads: go on as friends, get to know her better even though our schedules are both crazy, and that will limit my time to date or see other people. Again, not that I would want to or actually find someone I want to be with, but if I have someone that is really interested, and they want to hang out quite a bit and do crazy things and go visit my mom and sister.... I feel as if our friendship would slip through the cracks. She says if she tries to actively pursue a friendship and they blow her off she has no problem walking away. Well what happens if I find somebody? What then? She just walks away, wondering if it was the right decision, as I go on doing the same thing? It's not fair.
We've both been in really shitty relationships and now that we have a chance to be in one we are limited by a fucking number. I always knew it would come back to math. Or maybe its just that I... need to accept my fate as a lone wolf and give up on all these romantic shenanigans. But there's a part of me that loves it... loves it so much that I can't give it up. But there aren't many people out there that complain about getting spoiled with surprises on a regular basis....
There are quite a few more instances, and I'll keep adding when I remember. If you really want to get to know me, read what I write. Somewhere in the ramblings you may find some sort of cogency, but if not I'll give you a tiny tidbit today: I'm the guy who knows when another guy is interested in a girl that is showing interest in me (this other guy could hardly even be considered a friend to me, it doesn't matter) and so I'll (typically) back off and give them a chance. One would think, that with the amount of time I spend thinking about being considerate to others I would have a lot of really loyal friends. In reality, I have a lot of acquaintances, but very few friends.
Sweet dreams, it's officially 4:11 am.
I can't. I can't fucking do it. Blame my prescription, it's not. It's my smile, it's stopped.
I can't fucking sleep and I can't fucking see,
Eyes red and they pulse with my heart beat.
Stop it, it's not me, put that plastic smile on and just agree,
be heard and not seen
or seen and not heard
fuck that's what I mean.
All I've ever wanted for any girl I'm with is to give them the world with a smile. The thing about that is people get paranoid about free shit, and salesmen always smile right until the don't ask for consent to pile-drive you. I guess they don't get it. I don't want to fight, I just want somebody to give the world to... I don't want anything else. I guess I'm one of the few individuals anymore that has spent the majority of his life wanting to have a family some day. I want to be the dad that my father never was. It's not glamorous, I know what parenting is all about I watched my sister raise my nephew for many years. Glamour is not being covered with a mixture of vomit and snot at 4 am when you have work at six. But consider the alternative: Is loneliness happiness? Sure I am free to stay out as late as I want, take bong hits of crack bowls or worship satan in my little basement apartment (not that I do either of those things, and you probably shouldn't either, let's be real homie. Can I call you homie?) but at the end of the day you have kids that will hate you most of the time, but if you do a good job, will love you forever. My mom is my best friend because she knows how to listen to my circular logic. And although she is compelled to listen because we are related by blood and she is a virtuous mother, she's always been there, she never left, at least, not recently. Same with my sister. She's my other best friend. We joke about being... whew... we joke about being together forever because we both tend to have relationship problems. Together forever, with our cats and our plants, just two crazy old siblings. We both give give give give give and are too timid to even ask to take. So when someone comes along and actually gives we are so incredibly amazed that we jump on it. What happens when a cat pounces on a mouse? A morbid analogy occurs, but more importantly the mouse typically runs. Instinct is fight or flight when you're being chased and backed into corners. I don't blame them at all, but the real key to emotional survival is self-deprecation. If you don't think you deserve to have it, it opens up even more of a possibility for a big payout, and much less of a chance of... well... the tears welling like they are now.
So many songs come to mind when you fall in and out of love. Any other time... they are just notes. When you're in love, songs interpolate you. They're written for you. Or at least parts of them.
okay.. 445. I've officially been up for 24.25 hours now. To think 24 hours ago I was leaving a flower that wouldn't have any effect-we'll call it a placebo effect-it works if I believe it works.
I keep losing a bit of trust in people. I guess that's why people are so bitter when they're super old... they've seen the evil in humanity grow for years and years. Can you imagine? When the worst thing you have to worry about is greasers with funny hairdos and switchblades to now, people carrying a fucking shotgun and handguns into a movie theater and shooting the fuck out of innocent people. Seriously bro? And I love guns, don't get me wrong. Guns don't kill people, people kill people. Go ahead, put a gun on your couch. Anything happening yet? Is it plotting an assassination? No you moron its a fucking conglomeration of metal and a mixture of modern and ancient chemistry. People are fucked up what do you want me to say? It's not like a bunch of guns are hanging out in the middle east shooting people. There are fingers pulling those triggers with minds behind them. They may be really clean minds (brainwashed, get it? :)), but they are controlling the appendages that control the chemical reaction that fires the bullet towards the person. You don't blame the acid for melting somebody's face, you blame the fucking person that threw the acid! People are ridiculous. What was I ranting about again?
Right right... anyways... its almost 5. Roommate isn't home but it doesn't matter...
Alright if I have any hope of passing this semester I'd better get some sleep.
Sweet dreams... whoever you are.
Axel
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“Updated Losses.”
I left another flower with a link to a video (which I thought) was centered more on a casual relationship and just hoping she’s happy. This time I realized that if anything, I hoped to at least hold on to the friendship between this girl and I. I don’t think she wants anything to do with me anymore and it kills me. It kills me because I can’t even talk to her anymore, I can’t even be her friend or invite her to breakfast without her thinking I have some ulterior motive, or worrying that I will get attached when she doesn’t want that kind of thing with me. I can’t goof around and send her a stupid joke or be a sarcastic asshole (in a funny way, not typically mean) because she won’t even respond and that will likely push her further. That Zac Brown song, “As she’s walking away” keeps ringing through my head. All the things I wish I could’ve done, all the feelings I wish I could’ve held back... so many regrets. But the worst of all is I don’t even get to be around her. I’m not privileged enough to see her smile because I had to be greedy and go for all or nothing. Right now I would prefer anything... it is really hard to walk away from someone I feel/felt so strongly for. But with a heavy heart and an occasional tear, I have to back off and (potentially) say goodbye forever.
The older I get the more I realize how much I overthink things. But the older I get the more I realize that I need to overthink them more before I open my mouth to change them. I’m stuck between wanting to scream out my feelings and knowing that if I do so, everything will dissolve, even further than it’s already gone. Because once you contaminate a petri dish, there’s no going back to sterile agar.
The most excruciating torture is not in crimes of war, but crimes of love. The pain of having a million things to tell someone and knowing they won’t even listen to one often feels worse than being drawn-and-quartered by a billion snails, pulling you apart from every angle.
I’ve made my bed and now I must sleep in it.
Casa Nova may have guests, but ultimately he sleeps alone.
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