#...........i just realised just how fucking miserable most of the songs on here are IM SORRY

[abiiors]

im dyingggg to see a matty sickfic from u

Hey hey, thank you for the ask <3 and your wish has been granted ✨

Warnings - being sick? but nothing else apart from that, I don't think.

If you want a swapped version of this, go here!

Mother Hen

‘Open your mouth for me, baby,’ he coaxes

Normally this would have been met with a stupid sex joke but today your entire body feels like it’s been run over by an 18-wheeler. Twice.

‘Come on,’ he nudges your mouth with the cold tip of the thermometer and you finally obey. It feels like an anvil against your skull once it beeps.

‘Hmm, 100.4,’ he frowns, ‘not good.’

‘Absolutely miserable,’ you echo and his frown deepens. 

You haven’t stopped feeling like you’re on the verge of death for twenty-four hours now. Twenty-four hours of miserable headaches, chills and a churning stomach. But somehow, today is worse than yesterday.

‘Hey,’ he taps your cheek lightly to get you to stay awake, ‘how about we try some toast, yeah?’

‘No. No food, please,’ you practically beg. The churning of your stomach has not exactly put you in the mood to eat and he knows it. Unfortunately, he can’t just let you go for more than a day without eating solids. 

‘Some banana, then…please.’ He’s been trying everything for the past twenty minutes. From bribery to flattery to sternness, yet nothing will budge you. ‘I’ll get you some peppermint tea once you eat a bit.’ 

The thought of peppermint tea piques your interest a bit. It had managed to calm your stomach down for an hour or two yesterday so you finally give in and agree to the banana. The fever has well and truly fucked with your tastebuds. The banana tastes like mush and you have to fight to keep each bite down. The tea is fortunately a better experience. 

When he goes to run the pots back to the kitchen, you decide to get some medicine from the bathroom cabinet.

Matty walks back into the bedroom to already find you out of bed. Just as he’s about to protest this decision. you realise that standing up was—most definitely—a mistake. The room spins violently and the banana and the tea threaten to make a reappearance right on your bedroom floor. And you aren’t even sure if you’re going to make it to the bathroom in time. 

‘Matty…’ you whimper and his eyes widen as he understands what’s about to happen. 

He rubs his hands up and down your back as he ushers you to the bathroom. As soon as your knees hit the floor, your body expels everything you’ve consumed in the last twenty-four hours. 

Matty is a constant presence. He gathers your hair in one hand and strokes your back with the other. Mumbles encouraging words and tells you to take deep breaths through each wave of nausea.

When it’s finally over, you slump back against his chest and close your eyes. 

‘Do you feel any better?’ he asks once you’ve caught your breath a little. 

‘A smidge,’ you whisper. It makes you realise that your throat feels incredibly raw from all the bile and stomach acid. 

He brushes aside a few strands of hair that are stuck to your sweaty forehead. ‘Should we clean up then?’ When you nod a yes, he hooks an arm around your waist and helps you stand up. 

When he still doesn’t let go of your waist as you finish brushing your teeth, you meet his eyes in the mirror, ‘you’re fussing.’

‘Let me,’ he says without missing a beat, ‘I’m worried about you.’

You turn around to look at him and place your hands on his chest. ‘It’s only a stomach bug, love. I already feel better than before.’

‘So do you not want the princess treatment?’ he raises an eyebrow. 

‘I didn’t say that!’

‘Well then let me be the mother hen,’ he places a small kiss on your forehead.

The rest of the afternoon he spends playing with your hair and massaging your stomach to ease the cramps. It’s when he starts humming your favourite songs that your eyelids start to feel heavy. You don’t exactly know when you fall asleep but you definitely feel his fingers trace “I love you” on your shoulder. 

[karatekid1]

hi guys it been a while. Well, everything right now feels like its going up and down all the time, like on monday, three days ago, my life felt so good, i was so happy, then everything went downhill again on tuesday. today is thursday and idek how im feeling, i dont got any apeitie, and my life just feel so depressing. i realized yesterday that heartstopper is like a core memory to me, like i havent watched it since season 2 came out bc people started calling it cringe and i actually started to think it were. i was just a kid back then it feels like, because every day i get older and i feel embarressed for my younger self, in like a few months i think that this me whos writing this is gonna be so cringe, why are we like that? or maybe thats just me. but what i mean is that yesterday i listened to some of the soundtrack songs, i just felt warm and happy inside, and it kept doing everytime i listeend to the songs, i stayed up til 3 am last night just rewatching the first season and it made me cry actually idk why but it just brings me so much comfort. anyway, uni going fine ig, some subjects are really terrible, but im surviving. me and benjamin (the nick to my charlie) are still together and idk tbh how hes feeling ab me atp, like im so fucking stupid and annoying i think hes getting tired of it. i feels like im slowly loosing my mind again bc of everything. i hate myself for the way i act towards people. most people i know would call me nice, they do, but then i literally argue with everyone over stupid shit just bc i am sensetive. and i dont know how to deal with myself, i just get so easily mad and jealous of everyone and its starting to spread out more over the people i love which is not meant to happen but i cant control it. how much i try to be nick, will continue to always be charlie. what was i made for? i dont even know myself anymore. people say they're proud of me but i will literally treat them like shit without even realizing it myself. all i really want is to be seen and heard, but i end up embarresing myself, overshare or just make people upset. im just a failure, im not supposed to be here, i dont fit in. i dont know whats right or wrong anymore i just want to live my life, but im literally just miserable. i try so hard everyday, to get people to like me, to make me like myself a little bit more and not hating myself, but when ive done something wrong i cant even realise my mistake until so long after ive done it, and i feel so stupid. i dont deserve to live the life that i do. i dont deserve any of this. i try to be like everyone else, i try to be interesting but if you try too hard no one is gonna like you. and if youre not interesting people wont wanna hang out with you bc youre boring. you should be funny but not mean, you should be perfect but not fake, you shoulld be thin but not starve, you should be smart not a tryhard, you should be yourself but not different, you should be happy but not annoying, you should be kind but not too kind because then people will use you for their own good. i hate humans, i hate what we've made this world into. sorry this became a whole vent post but im just so tired of living without having anything to live FOR.

[georgiaswarr]

lister bird - part 2 (part 1)

beautiful faces - declan mckenna

i’m very much many thoughts head full can’t put it into concise words when it comes to beautiful faces as an iwbft song but suffice it to say, this song looks at celebrity, influencer and consumerism culture through a certain lens of doom, which hits close to home for lister. it also addresses excessive partying and drinking, for example in the “lift your hands up and lead us back home” lyric

beige - yoke lore

“i don't wanna see you smile / i want you in the morning / before you go performing” *whispers* bicci song

9 to 5 - smallpools

lister grew up poor and we mustn’t forget that part 3. also themes of losing innocence and doing what you must to survive in this cruel world.

when the party’s over - billie eilish

more themes of loneliness, self-hate and partying ! yay ! /s

hallucinogenics - matt maeson

i mean.... “pushing past the limit, trippin' on hallucinogenics / my cigarette burnt my finger 'cause i forgot i lit it / rippin' with my sinners 'cause fuck it, man, i ain't no beginner / and then i crawled back to the life that i said i wouldn't live in // cause i just couldn't open up, i'm always shiftin' / go find yourself a man who's strong and tall and christian” NEED I SAY MORE, THIS IS THE MOST LISTER SONG IN EXISTENCE

okay okay - alessia cara

a song about trying to fake self-confidence until you “make it” even though you don’t believe that you’re - to quote - a “million trick pony” yourself which is very true for lister john self-deprecation bird

nights - neon trees

here we have lister at least thinking that his crush on jimmy is unrequited, plus themes of insomnia

be an astronaut - declan mckenna

this raises the question of how much agency lister has and how much he’s just pushed around by his circumstances and by society, even though he might dream, or has dreamt of being bigger than that

clouds - børns

this song makes me think of Yearning(TM) while being high - yknow, something that lister does

liability - lorde

“the truth is i am a toy that people enjoy / till all of the tricks don't work anymore / and then they are bored of me” - growing up in the world of fame, constantly being sexualised, nobody knowing how you truly feel, all while feeling distant from your two closest friends has taken a huge toll on lister’s self worth

icarus - bastille

“out on the front doorstep, drinking from a paper cup / you won't remember this / living beyond your years, acting out all their fears / you feel it in your chest” lister “grew up too fast and has been on the verge of death multiple times” bird

hurricane - lord huron

something something lister getting a certain thrill out of living on the edge something something

i swear - exes

more themes of falling apart and getting drunk :(

white wine - walwin

kinda vibes but also comparing somebody you’re attracted to to alcohol....... i mean it’s not the most healthy thing to do especially for lister but he’s trying

saint - vérité

this is about how lister appears to the outside world and how that doesn’t reflect who he is inside - everyone sees him as a cheeky golden boys, as a “saint”, even though he has many issues and hates who he actually is

preacher man - the driver era

shoutout to @listerswift for reccing this song to me. remember when lister said that maybe he should try becoming religious too in the wednesday chapters??? in iana, when he’s gonna try to get better and find something other than alcohol to turn to i feel like there will be a phase where he feels lost and might even entertain the thought of religion. either way, he’s looking for something or someone who will help him “get away from this life of sin”

everything i wanted - gengahr version

(yes this is a cover of the billie eilish song I JUST LOVE THIS VERSION A LOT OKAY) anyway, lister feeling like what he wanted isn’t actually what he needs? feeling alone, like nobody cares about him or is listening to him? feeling the pressures of fame and everyone wanting something from him? themes of insomnia? but still eventually (hopefully) finding comfort in his friends? this song’s got you covered

half the night - couchsleepers

y’know, the fact that jimmy and lister are gonna sleep in the same bed long before they start hooking up to help each other

bravado - yoke lore

bicci song - “little bits of my own little mistakes” (they’ve both fucked up in the past) and “you put songs inside my cells” (because they’re musicians) and also “are there really angels in southern california” (southern california standing for the world of fame, could there be good things there?)

la la - kids in america

“don’t need this attention not another mention / just wanna stay high” a song about just wanting to let go of the world and all its problems

85 - andy grammer

here we explore lister’s relationship with money and wealth - while he grew up poor, after getting money he started splashing out on expensive cars and the like. however, there’s plenty of evidence that points towards the fact that he’ll go back to appreciating the little things in iana and rethink his priorities, which this song expresses

like i love you - lost frequencies

lister wants to know if jimmy loves him the way he loves jimmy

holy ghost - børns

a sexy song with religious symbolism??? that’s very bicci of you børns

run away with me - carly rae jepsen

“do you ever imagine what would happen if we just... ran away?” let the ark run away in iana challenge

bad habits - delaney jane

i do think it’s a sign of progress and improvement when the “bad habit” in question is a passionate but confusing friends-with-benefits affair with your fellow band mate instead of like.... alcohol and smoking and shit

pink lemonade - james bay

i mean my personal theory is that jimmy and lister won’t want to talk about what hooking up means for their relationship/properly define their relationship for quite a while, due to personal issues and also what it means for the band. this song embodies that.

could you love me - kygo

we all know lister’s got some self-esteem and mental health issues, and even though he’s trying to change, he’s unsure if rowan and jimmy could still love him

killer whales - smallpools

a song about a relationship where both parties have difficulties opening up and being completely vulnerable, but eventually being able to get through to each other. it also expresses a great admiration for the person that is sung about which i think is beautiful

pink in the night - mitski

aaaaand one more bicci song for good measure - “and i know i've kissed you before, but / i didn't do it right // can i try again, try again, try again / try again, and again, and again / and again, and again, and again?” - to quote alice, there will be MANY bicci kisses in iana and i, for one, can’t wait

i wanna get better - bleachers

“and i've trained myself to give up on the past 'cause / i froze in time between hearses and caskets / lost control when i panicked at the acid test / i wanna get better” it’s hard to put into words quite the amount of catharsis and a defiant push for self-improvement that is in this song but i like to think lister very much wants that

glitter & gloss - skott

i could honestly analyse each line and how it relates to lister here but here’s a collection of themes: fame, dressing yourself up and almost getting lost in so-called “glitter & gloss” for the public, but still, at your core, finding your true self and knowing that only very few people can truly know you and understand you. i think this is perfect for the end of this playlist because it seems hopeful to me, like lister’s gonna realise that even though most people will never see his true face, that doesn’t matter because he and his loved ones do.

[firstknightss]

GWAINCELOT ESSAY THREE???

[commentary voice] ah yes and this gwaincelot essay.... which turned into a fic was inspired by @nextstopparis and @little-ligi

GWAINE TEACHING LANCELOT HOW TO READ. and thats how they actually CONFESS.

imagine gwaine seeing lancelot trip up reading leon’s plan for the day, seeing him trying to understand it. and gwaines, hes a little in love. Hes. Hes a little hit with feelings for this Noble (tm) knight. So OF COURSE he CANT EMOTION and he tries to show his affection for lancelot without yknow being in ‘loVE’

he comes over with his swishy hair and bantery tone like “oooOhHh LANCELOT! Lancey! Hey! Hello! Can’t read leon’s goddamn awful handwriting huh?”

And Lancelots embarrassed and flushes red and gwaine thinks hes Fucked Up (and he really doesn’t want to fuck this up, this is the first time he’s actually felt emotions this deep for someone) and tries to fix it panickedly, like the Anxiety Clown He Is.

He keeps on saying sorry and apologising, and Lancelot, the EVER CALM KNIGHT GUY, goes “it’s fine, it’s okay. It’s nothing to do with you...” and then he hesitates. He HESITATES. “....it’s just that...” and then he BITES HIS LIP and gwaine thinks he might just faint there and then, “...i cant read.”

and now it hits him, gwaine, gwaine, who thought literacy was something trash and something he didn’t really need, realises how important it is. and so, yknow because hes kind of wrapped in those Emotions (tm), he pulls lancelot’s sleeve after practice, when they’re alone in the changing room. (and if lancelot wasn’t so tired and miserable, he would have easily seen gwaine BLUSH)

And he, shyly asks if lancelot wouldnt mind being tutored by him.

Now Lancelot is OVERJOYED, and he’s borderline CRYING because lancelot, poor old village boy lancelot who’d been kicked out of the knights of camelot, and had to become a MERCENARY and fight for masters who didn’t care for him, has NEVER HAD someone literally CARE about him so much. (Apart from Merlin. He loves merlin <3)

so now imagine lancelot waking up an hour early the next morning, and showing up into gwaine’s room. He knows gwaine literally doesnt sleep with a lock, so he just barges in, and starts shaking gwaine.

Now GWAINE sleeps like a Log (had so much shit going on irl, time to sleep it away) and when he opens his bleary eyes, seeing lancelot in one of his stupid v neck shirts over him, hes like “....h...helo??”

and lancelot’s all like. “We- werent YOU gonna give me reading lessons.” And gwaine nods, yawning (and in that moment lancelot thinks gwaine looks unimaginably cute, so cute that he wants to literally ruffle gwaine’s hair and run his hands through how silky and brown it is.)

THEN gwaine pulls on the dont care-ish mask, and makes his arms into a pillow under his head, as he leans against the wall behind his bed, in some kind of somewhat???flirty??? manner??? [i dont...i dont know what hes trying to do. On the other hand! Not does Lancelot :) ]

Lancelot, does not realise this is gwaine’s poor attempt at flirting - since he’s seen gwaine ACTUALLY flirting and this is like. Nothing. And its also poorly executed. Which is NOTHING like gwaine.

So he pulls gwaine’s arm, and half hauls him out of bed.

As gwaine’s head crashes into lancelot’s stomach, he can smell lancelot’s clothes. They smell of flowers, and cotton and everything so natural and gwaine, who literally smells of wine, and wood and Tavern. (And aftershave, or the 500AD equivalent)

[see here, see im trying to bring themes of dionysis okay. OkayyyyyyyyY. yours truly likes looking at greek mythology. And both these two complete dionysis]

Gwaine, in his sleepy stupor, nestles his head on Lancelot’s hip, who gives a sigh and stands there. One hand clutching gwaine’s, leaving the other free.....

....to rake through his soft, flowy brown hair. And twirl his fingers through its waves, and Gwaine cuddles in further.

And since Lancelot left the door open, Leon (the other bitch who wakes up at 4am to do idk nothing) sees them two...like that, illuminated by the SUNLIGHT behind them, and smiles a little.

And then he trips over the stairs, the moment is lost.

Gwaine and Lancelot pull away at the same time, and gwaine’s face turns back to “ha ha im a Jerk (tm)” and if he wasnt too busy trying to hide how flustered he was, he’d see Lancelot looking at him the way he used to look at GWEN.

They both blink and look at each other, understandingly, neither of them to speak of this again.

And then Gwaine drags himself out of bed, and Lancelot raises his eyebrows as he watches him (totally not checking him out) haul out a book from his cupboard.

Gwaine’s too sleepy for this, he keeps yawning and rubbing his eyes (looking like a cat, Lancelot notes) and Lancelot takes a deep breath, his eyes understanding.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Lancelot, I love..” he bites his tongue, cursing his half asleep mind “..doing this, and love hanging out with you...I just cant stay up this early.”

Reading lessons, from now on, are at 1:30am-whenever Gwaine and Lancelot stop rambling about Odysseus and Circe and Telemachus

[i dont know any other ancient books apart from like. Ancient greek/Roman ones. So i guess. Its not historically accurate,,,,BUUIT this is a fanfic for a pair who had like no scenes together SO i think i can take some ✨creative liberties✨]

Lancelot has heard of the journey of Aneas from travelling bards, singing songs in his native old english. Gwaine’s eyes are quick at latin, and he learnt the flaws of Romulus and Remus in his pure latin. Gwaine’s a good teacher, and lancelot is a quick study, and it’s not long before they’re arguing over which Goddess caused the most harm in the Illiad.

Gwaine’s never met someone who he could reveal that he loved reading to, he loved doing.

Lancelot’s never met someone who he could tell he couldn’t read, and ask if they could teach him, love learning.

They make it work.

The other knights notice, of course they notice. Percival notices how Lancelot stumbles into the Gwaine’s room at night, bright eyed. Elyan notices Lancelot and Gwaine’s voices from Gwaine’s room opposite him; sometimes slow, Gwaine speaking slowly and Lancelot following; sometimes heated and passionate.

(They’re arguing. They’re arguing about how to pronounce Minerva)

Merlin finds the two, in the early hours of the morning - when the birds are figuring what song they sing today - on Gwaine’s bed.

Gwaine leaned against the bedframe, his trousered legs splayed over the sheets. Loosely braided, long brown hair fell over his closed eyelids, his mouth in a small smile.

And Merlin follows his arm draped over Lancelot, snuggled beside him, his head on his broad shoulder, every breath of wind pushing against curly black hair, making it almost /bounce/. His eyes are covered by the other man’s hair, and he looks...content. More content than Merlin has ever seen him.

He slips out as quietly as he came in, and smirks, hes gotta tell arthur they finally got their shit together oh GOD

Its no surprise to anyone but them, when Arthur pulls Lancelot out of training, and into his chambers.

“I’m glad you’ve found someone Lancelot.” He starts, his face geniune, his voice giving away hints of relief. (He thought he was never going to see his knight smile again after all the ordeals that had happened to him)

“Oh...” Lancelot’s heart sinks, “...how did you find out, Sire?”

Arthur blinks, taking in the change of mood in Lancelot, maybe it wasn’t anything important, maybe they were trying to keep it casual, hell they didnt want the king knowing.

“I- uh, I just noticed...” Goddamnit Merlin, and Goddamn his need to tell him everything he saw. (Merlin had advised him not to do this, as they sat on his bed after a long night. This was really his fault.)

Lancelot pales, and he places his hands down on the table beside him, palms slapping stone as he did so.

“Well, I guess I should tell you the whole truth then,” his voice is quiet, and Arthur steps closer, “Sire I am not of Noble birth, and was born in a village - as you know.”

Arthur nods, his arms crossed, but his Kingly Bravado fell away at the sight of his knight, and one of his closest friends, being this vulnerable.

“Yes I know, but what does this ha-“

“And we children in the village we-“ he falters, “-we were never taught to read.”

“Yes, no I understand, I-“ he pauses, Lancelot’s words hitting him a bit too late, this was about literacy?

This, this whole conversation was about literacy?

Not being gay?

Merlin was going to have a field day

“Sire?”

“I understand Lancelot, and is this why you feel a little out of place with the other knights?” He carries it on, with a smile, he has a few questions to ask merlin.

“Yes, and that’s why I asked Gwaine to tutor me from time to time, although, the sessions carry through late into the night, which may have been affecting my performance at practice. I’ll have you know that this is a temporary th-“

“It’s fine Lancelot,” Arthur places a hand on his shoulder, “You are still exceptional at practice,”

“Thank you Sire,” Lancelot twinkles.

✨

“Theyre, theyre not together?” Merlin cant stop laughing, tears streaming down his face, “theyre not TOGETHER?? oh my God arthur what did you DO”

They sit together on Arthur’s bed, drinking wine from stemless cups together, with Arthur recounting the events of the day; red faced.

“I mean, it was your idea Merlin.”

“I just saw them, and I assumed...I didnt...I didnt think youd ASK them.”

“What do you think I’d do then?? Let them be on their merry way.”

“Yes!”

✨

“Do you like me?” Gwaine asks, unexpectedly, one night, the moon vibrant against the loud sea.

“You’re...tolerable...” Lancelot says, a smile tugging at his lips, as the silver moonlight falls against his hair, a halo around him.

✨

The knights give them the look every morning, as the two of them stumbled out of the same room, more frequently than ever.

Sometimes Lancelot would throw on Gwaine’s shirt, when he’d crumpled his own beyond repair. Sometimes Gwaine would put some of Lancelot’s hair oil on, when his hair was frizzy.

They gave each other knowing looks when Gwaine and Lancelot started whispering and giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls.

✨

And then Stupid gwaine had to go get fucking stabbed, and their delicate dance was like trying to waltz through a minefield.

Lancelot clutches onto Gwaine’s arm as Merlin feels his forehead with shaking hands.

“He’s burning up.”

“Infection...?” Lancelot sounds broken, and nods, fumbling with his pack to find some bandages.

It was just a simple quest; a save the day, get the girl, do various harmless shenanigans type of quest.

He’d half expected Gwaine to get the girl, and he cant help but give out a half choked laugh. Gwaine had no idea what hit him when she turned out to be the evil one all along.

He tries to forget that Gwaine showed no interest in her, he tries to forget that Gwaine’s been less frequent at the Tavern, he tries to forget that he hasn’t seen Gwaine with anyone since months now.

Gwaine, his beautiful Gwaine was lying on his lap, hot red blood rushing from his side, staining his polished chainmail with dark, sticky blood.

He’s been out for nearly an hour now, and Lancelot remembers carrying him, through the entire forest, forgetting his sword and his helmet and just grabbing Gwaine and getting the shit out of there.

Gwaine’s lack of self preservation was really rubbing off on Lancelot nowadays.

Merlin watches as Lancelot holds back tears, his own eyes stinging. Gwaine can’t die like this, he can’t die like this....

“hælan beorn adl”

Merlin’s eyes flashed gold, and Lancelot could feel warmth coming back into the fingers he was grabbing.

He was coming back.

And then the weight of everything hits him.

He was in Fucking Love.

✨

“Hey.” Gwaine’s voice is rough from disuse, but Lancelot nearly sobs when he hears the voice.

“Don’t fucking do that to me again, amor meus.” He puts his head down on Gwaine’s chest; finding the hammering of his heart calming.

He shimmies onto Merlin’s bed, which Gwaine had been lying in for the past few days.

“Did you mean, ami meus?” Gwaine sounds tired, too tired to be awake.

“Huh? Did i say something else?” Lancelot decides to play dumb, a sparkle in his eyes,

“I thought I heard amor meus,” Gwaine pushes his nose into Lancelot’s hair, taking in the wonderful smell of coconut.

“Well then, at least your hearing’s okay, amor meus.”

Gwaine gulped, and was sure Lancelot could hear his loud swallow.

“Lancelot, I hope this isnt a big joke with me teachin you latin and all,” Gwaine’s voice is a little wobbly from the slee deprivation and the magic and the pain numbers, “because I’ll have you know that I really love you, and I cant go on like this any longer,”

“Its okay Gwaine, I learnt latin from the man I love, of course it’s not a joke.”

“The man you love? Who’s tha-“

Realisation hits him like a brick.

Oh.

Oh.

“Me?” His voice cracks, and Lancelot looks up, a smirk on his face.

“Of course dumbass.”

“Like I’m meant to know that,” Gwaine tries to keep his dont care-ish aura, but they both know he’s too exhausted to keep that up.

“mmm?”

Gwaine kisses him on the nose, and he wraps himself around him.

And thats how Merlin finds them later that day, eyes blinking as he stood there.

✨

“I’m glad you’ve found someone, Lancelot.” Arthur coughs.

“Is that what that whole talk was about???”

“Answer the question.” His words sound harsh, but he’s barely hiding a smile.

“I’m glad too, I’m Glad I found Gwaine too.” Lancelot blushes, turning to gwaine.

“Why are you asking anyway, Princess?”

“Oh just, making sure this time.”

[fairielust]

yesterday !

ok ok i’m finally gonna sit down n write this shit out before it leaves me shjbgk

ok so as we know yesterday was my japanese excursion (last one evER) n for some god forsaken reason my parents thought it’d be a good idea to see the annual light festival, vivid, on the same day Sooo your girl had to get off an earlier stop @ the end which sucked but i’ll get into detail later lol

so i got up nice n early for a saturday to have a shower n do my makeup n i realised i looked extra asf for an excursion but wisteria knew i had vivid afterwards so i had an excuse lol

our lil class got to the station an hour early to buy drinks n snacks n @ 11 we were all waiting for wisteria who, like a goddamn angel, had come up the stairs n saw us sitting @ a bench n my heart stopped bc i forgot it was a saturday n i was in casual clothes n makeup n seeing wisteria outside of school was incredible wtf

also i was drinking hot chocolate n of course my lipstick was all over the cup n i got heaps shy n quickly drank it all lmao i hate myself

anyway so we’re waiting for the train to come n we’re all chatting in japanese n english about random shit like this movie i watched the night before n how we all did not want to do this speaking thing n how dinner was gonna be the best,,, eventually the train came n we boarded n i got super jealous bc wisteria called one of my friends over to talk about her major work n of course they were talking for the entire time n i was lowkey jealous bc i wanted to sit beside her lmao. we also had to change trains n for some reason it dropped to like -10 degrees ?? n we were all huddled together in a cute asf circle shivering while i constantly asked if i could (jokingly) jump off the platform bc i hATE SPEAKING n i hatE WHEN IM COLD 

all was good n we walked to the fancy asf school where the speaking thing was held n wisteria had to leave us bc she was going to be one of the teacher’s who asked questions 2 the students but like,,, we’re not allowed to go to her n i wanted to die even more bc there was a shit ton of native speakers n a few white teachers n i knew no one but wisteria n i hated it so much omg,,,

i find it ironic how i can speak japanese quite well when i’m not pressured hmmm

so yeah that was a miserable experience n now i’m so scared 4 the real thing help

wisteria had to stay till 4 (we were there since 1) so she let us walk off to the plaza that was nearby n we chilled there until it was close to 4 before we returned. while waiting for her outside the building we all decided to remix a song that we constantly sing in class that’s one of wisteria’s favourite japanese songs (by remix it was like an acapella edm remix where i dabbed bc lit) n when she came out of the building we hurried her over to where we were sitting n started n she was laughing @ our stupidity wow i love an iconic class

next we started walking to the restaurant where we’d be having dinner n it took absolutely forever,,, when we got there there was a small queue n suddenly wisteria got really excited bc she realised that this particular restaurant was the one she wanted to try for a while now n it was so cute tbh (i wasn’t gonna admit that in person tho hell to the no)

we got a table n again i wasn’t sitting beside her :(( but it’s ok bc she teased me either way. my brother had texted me asking if i was gonna get the kid’s ramen n i told that to wisteria n she laughed so loudly lmao

let me tell you. torikaraage, or fried chicken, is legit the best thing in the world. it’s not like kfc. it’s japanese fried chicken. it’s incredible. that’s my obsession, alongside ramen. wisteria on the other hand,,, her favourite drink is oolong tea n when she had it she was squealing like a little girl agAIN so not only is she obsessed with walls n green tea but she also loves oolong tea n i’m just sobbing she’s so precious :’)

we got a group selfie together which was cute <3  

after dinner we started to walk to the train station but we got lost a bit n had to catch a bus but it’s ok we eventually made it lol. 

tho,, along the way,,, wisteria (for the millionth time) had stopped and squealed n it scared me a lil ngl so i turned around n she was already running off w some of us,,, i followed n honestly my breath caught in my throat.

there like this opening which had a view of the city from afar with all the lights on the buildings from the light festival i’m supposed to be seeing afterwards. n while it was afar it was magical ?? like one of those surreal anime moments. just the five of us w their japanese teacher standing in the darkness, watching the city n the lights w the wind in our hair. 

(n i was standing right beside wisteria)

i was actually ready to cry both emotionally n bc i was so tired

we made it to the station n caught the next train n i realised that it was only two stops after that i’d have to get off which SUCKED my gosh. BUT i was sitting beside wisteria n when it got close to my stop i started to hug all my friends goodbye. n then,,, i made a risky move (in my mind, at least) n turned to hug wisteria n she returned the hug n honestly it was one of those(TM) hugs,,, yknow those rare ones that for a moment you actually believe things will be okay n she was so warm n soft n i’m tearing up thinking about it (you best believe my arms did not leave my body the rest of the night) <3

n she jokingly said��‘nice knowing you’ when i said i might get kidnapped n i rolled my eyes n laughed smh !!!

n here’s another thing: i was wearing my scarf the entire day n i had worn it today, n while i was doing something i randomly put my face in it to keep me warm n there was a perfume scent that was most definitely not mine,,, my perfume is sweet n stuff but there was a v new scent that isn’t mine, or my mums, or anyone except wisteria. bc i knew i could smell her perfume when we hugged. oh my fucking god i aint washing my scarf now.

someone (wisteria) pls hold me i’m so emotional n i’m planning on talking to her tomorrow after class to ask if it was possible to have some sort of weekly speaking practice from now to the final speaking exam bc again, i’m an anxious unprepared shit n i need actual help @ this point,,,

okAy that was a wild ride !!! if you made it to the end thank you for reading my emotional ramble !!! i love one teacher n her name is wisteria !!! <3

(also happy pride month fellow tc-er’s if you celebrate it <3)

[botanistlester]

Sweet Pea (7/?)

Summary: A nickname that goes bitter in your mouth. Cries for help that no one listens to. Gentle hands that make you quake on the ground you’re standing on. When Phil first met Nico, he thought he was a gift from the heavens. But behind the mask lies something daunting, something unnerving, that Phil never foresaw. Through his journey, he finds solace in Dan, the regular at his workplace, who seems to be the only one who sees through Nico’s mask to the darkness underneath. Warnings: Abusive relationship, violence A/N: Amidst the horror of this story, here's something cute and sweet! The lyrics at the beginning are from a song called All Our Bruised Bodies And The Whole Heart Shrinks by La Dispute! Thank you (as always) to @littlelionsloves and @snowbunnylester for being my lovely betas! I couldn't do this without you two! I’ve also started making audiofics, where you can find on my youtube, skeletonflowers! Previous | Masterlist

Read it on AO3 Read it on Wattpad

-

Chapter Seven

Tell me what your worst fears are. I bet they look a lot like mine. Tell me what you think about when you can’t fall asleep at night.

-

It had been a few weeks since Phil had started talking to Dan, and today was the day where he was going over to Dan’s place. He was practically vibrating with both nerves and excitement. While he could hardly wait to finally get to know Dan in person just as well as he knew him through text, he was also anxious about how it was going to go in the first place.

Dan was everything Phil had ever wanted in a friend. He was witty, funny, and sarcastic at all the right times, but he also knew how to console Phil whenever he needed it. It was just strange for Phil to think that he had befriended his most valued customer, someone who he’d known for a year, but who he’d never really, well, known.

So now that Phil was finally going to his apartment? He didn’t know what to expect. He was walking into a mystery head first. What kind of flat would someone who wore grandma sweaters and who liked memes more than themselves have? Would he have framed photos of Doge hanging up on the wall? Would he have a list of his favourite memes on the fridge?

As Phil soon found out, only the latter was true.

Dan had just greeted him at the door with an overly excited hug and an exclamation of, “Phil!” that sounded just a bit more like ‘Phiw’ than anything else. He had then blabbered on for two minutes about how he was nervous to finally be showing Phil around, and Phil had only been able to quiet him with a large smile and an agreement that he was also very nervous. That seemed to be enough to compel Dan to give him a flat tour, waving his hands excitedly as he gestured to his favourite belongings.

It wasn’t what Phil had expected, really. Dan was such a colourful person, in both language and wear, that it took him completely off guard when he came to the realisation that Dan’s flat was decorated with monochrome colours, whites and blacks and grays. Phil pointed this out to Dan, who shook his head.

“Now that’s not true!” he exclaimed, grabbing Phil by the elbow and dragging him towards the kitchen. Phil didn’t know what he was supposed to be looking at until Dan pointed at the refrigerator, which was decorated with a million post-it notes and a few pokemon magnets. He had trouble keeping his snort in. “A source of colour amidst the dreary scenery, your majesty. You’re welcome.”

This time, Phil did snort, shaking his head and smiling widely at Dan. “You’re such a nerd,” he told him, and Dan just shrugged as if he’d already known that. Phil turned back to the fridge, looking over all of the notes, wondering what Dan could possibly need that many reminders for. And right there, smack dab in the middle of the fridge on an orange note, read ‘FAVOURITE MEMES’ in large block letters. Phil groaned. “Of course you’d have a list of memes on your fridge. You’re my least favourite person.”

Dan made a face and grabbed a pen and a stack of bright pink sticky notes from the counter. “If I’m your least favourite because I’m fun then I’d hate to see the dull fuck who has garnered all of your attention.” Phil watched with mild curiosity as he scribbled something unknown on the note before tearing it off and sticking it right to Phil’s forehead. “There. I think that accurately portrays you as a person.”

Unable to stop himself, Phil reached up and took it off, reading over the note. He almost couldn’t read it honestly, because Dan’s scrawl was like hieroglyphics, but after probably a hundred years had passed, he finally figured out what it said.

“Boring old man?” Phil read in a flat tone. He glanced up and met Dan’s gaze with his own unimpressed expression. “And here I thought it was you who was the old person. Considering you have your very own grandma sweatshirt.”

“Hey, I wore that to be ironic!”

“Right. Which is why you’re wearing a shirt right now that says World’s Best Daddy.”

Dan gasped, covering the words on his shirt like he was trying to shield himself. “I am a man who appreciates good humour, thank you very much.” He put his nose in the air, looking down at Phil in an attempt to make it seem like he had a mightier-than-thou attitude. “Not like someone such as yourself would understand something as complex and three-dimensional as humour. You disgust me.”

With a mock-offended scoff, Phil snatched the stack of post-its and the pen from Dan’s hands. In his haste, he almost dropped them, but luckily his butterfingers didn’t betray him for once. He hid the note from Dan as he wrote his payback on it before tearing it off and sticking it to Dan’s arm.

“There,” he said simply. “Now we’re even.”

Phil could tell that Dan tried to hide his smile, but it failed miserably when he read the note. The corners of his lips turned up and his eyes considerably brightened. “Meme-loving fuck,” he read, shaking his head and meeting Phil’s eyes. His face turned serious. “Is this supposed to be an insult? Feels a bit more like a medal of honour.”

With a snort, Phil shook his head and took the note away from Dan. He stuck both his and Dan’s on the fridge, near the center because they were obviously more important than anything else. “There. Now you’ll never forget about the boring old man who called you a meme-loving fuck.”

“You say that as if I could forget about you,” Dan murmured softly, and he shot Phil a smile that was somewhat sheepish. In all honesty, Phil found it endearing. He couldn’t believe how lucky he had been to call Dan his friend. All of his earlier worries seemed to have just flown out of the window as soon as he walked through the threshold. “Now enough of this sappy shit. I’m going to beat your ass at Mario Kart.”

“You’re on.”

Playing games with Dan was fun, but that wasn’t at all surprising to Phil. He’d long since realised that he enjoyed Dan’s company, so teasing and yelling at each other as they tried to destroy each other in Mario Kart was easy. Through this, he ended up getting to know more about Dan as well.

He found out that Dan liked to yell. A lot. If there was any chance that his victory would be jeopardised, then his voice would get so high pitched that it nearly shattered Phil’s eardrums. He cussed more than usual, the F-bomb dropping every two seconds as he slammed his shoulder into Phil’s. He was competitive, which could turn anybody away from wanting to play with him, but Phil couldn’t help but laugh at how upset he got every time it didn’t go his way. It was just endearing, and Phil found himself having the time of his life.

After they got bored of Mario Kart, Dan switched to Crash Bandicoot. Even though it was only a one person game, they made it into something they could both have fun with by passing the controller to the other person whenever they died.

Dan was the one playing when Phil got a text message, and he looked down at his phone to see that Nico had texted him. A grimace played on his lips, not because he wasn’t happy to hear from him, but because he hadn’t exactly told him that he was going over to Dan’s today.

Nico x - 8:46pm

Hey sweet pea xx

Nico x - 8:47pm

What r u up to?

Phil Lester - 8:50pm

not much. Chilling at home.

The lie came out before Phil could even think about what he was typing. He bit his lip so harshly that his lip tore slightly, blood pooling onto his tongue. He glanced over at Dan, who was sitting beside him playing Crash Bandicoot and swearing loudly at the television.

Why had he lied? There was literally no reason to. It’s not like there was anything going between Phil and Dan in the slightest. They were just hanging out. Phil had no reason to lie.

Except he couldn't stop thinking about how Nico would probably be mad if he was hanging out with Dan. It’s not like Dan and Nico had gotten along very well at the party, even though Nico had been drunk. Phil feared that Nico wouldn’t approve of his sudden friendship with the guy who pretty much told Nico he was a bad boyfriend.

His phone chimed again, breaking his fretful thoughts.

Nico x - 8:56pm

Can i come keep you company?

Panic filled Phil for a split second before he took a few deep breaths. That’s fine. He could just… lie again. No biggie.

Phil Lester - 8:57pm

Im actually trying to get some hw done tonight. Hang tomorrow? xx

Nico x - 8:57pm

Cant i just come hang out while youre working on it? I miss you :-(

Phil cursed under his breath, causing Dan to pause the game and look over at him with a concerned expression.

“You okay?” Dan asked carefully, seeming slightly uncertain like he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries. It was nice of him, in Phil’s opinion, because they didn’t really know each other well quite yet and yet he still cared enough to notice that something was wrong.

“I’m fine,” he promised, and gave Dan a tight-lipped smile. He met his eyes for good measure, holding his gaze for a few seconds until Dan sighed and accepted his reassurance.

“Alright,” Dan said, smiling back at him, his eyes crinkling. He turned back to his game, picking up the controller. “But let me know if I can do anything for you.”

Phil didn’t nod, just picked up his phone and sent a text to Nico, spewing yet another lie. He didn’t know what was wrong with him or how he could possibly treat his own boyfriend like this. In all of his relationships, he was always really cautious to be honest with them no matter what. But suddenly, all of his values were crashing down around him.

He didn’t deserve Nico.

Phil Lester - 9:01pm

I miss you too :( but I really need to get this paper finished. Ive been procrastinating. See you tomorrow?

It was disgusting. He was disgusting. Phil would make this up to Nico, even though he didn’t know anything about what was going on at the moment.

Nico x - 9:01pm

Alright sweet pea. See you tomorrow, I love you.

Phil texted him that he loved him too before Dan was shoving the controller in his face.

“I died already. I call hacks,” Dan muttered, but he was smiling despite his frustration, his face so warm that Phil couldn’t help but relax slightly, the tension in his shoulder dispelling into the couch.

“Get ready, ‘cause you’re about to see the wrath of the Philinator,” Phil proclaimed loudly, taking the remote. At least he could try to hide his guilt by beating Dan at everything he did.

“The Philinator? Really?”

Needless to say, Phil didn’t end up beating Dan. But that didn’t matter because his cheeks hurt from laughing so hard and his chest felt so light it was as if he was flying. It was strange, how being with Dan could make him feel as if he had known the guy for ten years, almost like they were platonic soulmates. Even Chandler, who Phil proudly claimed as his best friend for years, didn’t have the same chemistry with him as he had with Dan.

It was nice and Phil didn’t even think about checking his phone until he left a few hours later. But even then, the fifteen concerned text messages didn’t dare destroy his high.

-

Phil Lester - 3:38pm

Saw an old lady get bitten on her butt by a corgi just now. Made me think of you

Dan Howell - 3:45pm

Was it her thicc ass that made you think of me? ;)

Phil Lester - 3:47pm

You wish. It was actually her impressive amount of wrinkles that made me text you.

Dan Howell 3:48pm

Ha. ur soooo funny. U should be a comedian

Phil Lester - 3:48pm

That’s the plan!

Dan Howell - 3:51pm

I’ll be the first to throw the tomatoes

Phil Lester - 3:52pm

That’s fine, I’ll just catch them in my mouth! See you at the show :*

-

Since they had hung out together, Dan and Phil continued to become closer with each passing day. The only person Phil used to really text was Nico, but now he found his eyes glued to the phone every minute of the day, awaiting the next text message from both of his favourite people. Now what he really wanted was for Nico, Dan, and Phil all to hang out together, and then his life would be complete.

That wouldn’t be so difficult if, one, Nico didn’t hate Dan, two, Dan didn’t hate Nico, and three, Phil had told Nico that he was friends with Dan.

Yep. He was in deep shit, that was for sure.

And Phil… Phil was the worst boyfriend in the history of boyfriends. On top of keeping the information of his newfound friendship with Dan to himself, he also found himself lying all the time when it came to he and Dan hanging out. He came up with all sorts of excuses when he planned a day with Dan.

Sorry, I have to work on homework.

I can’t hang out today, I told Chandler I’d study with her.

I have work.

So when Dan had asked Phil if he wanted to spend the weekend at his house just for the heck of it because ‘they are actually teenage girls who need to have a sleepover ASAP’, Phil had a moment of panic. How was he going to explain to Nico that he was going to be away for the whole weekend because he wanted to spend his weekend with another guy? Especially a guy that Nico didn’t like?

His perfect excuse came in the form of a well thought-out lie.

“I’m going to my parents’ house,” he said before he could blurt out anything stupid and give Nico any wrong ideas. He wasn’t spending the night with Dan because he liked him romantically. He was doing it because he wanted to, because Dan was a close friend now, because the only person Phil had bothered to hang out with lately was Nico himself.

He needed other friends, damn it.

Nico didn’t even bat an eyelash and just shrugged, giving Phil a sweet kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be here awaiting your return,” he promised, making guilt flood through Phil’s body, the knowledge that he was horrible stabbing through his brain.

He was off the hook for now, able to spend the weekend with Dan, playing dumb video games and finally being able to learn more about each other. Phil was excited, ecstatic even. Finally, finally he had a friend who he could play dumb games with and joke around with like there wasn’t a care in the world. It was refreshing, to say the least.

Most of the times they hung out, it was just that - playing video games and watching movies. Phil found out quickly what types of movies Dan liked, ranging from Baby Driver to Deathgasm. He was one of the most complicated people Phil had ever met, his personality and hobbies all over the place with no set pattern. One day, he’d show up to class in stupid ironic daddy shirts and the next, he’d be wearing the most fashionable sense of style Phil had ever laid his eyes on. He had designer clothing, which Dan blamed on his Theatre classmates.

“I’ve never bought a single piece of designer clothing in my life,” Dan told him after Phil teased him about the godawful potato sack jumper which had apparently been made by Kanye himself.

Phil didn’t really believe him, but he let the matter go. Who was he to tell Dan not to be himself? Besides, Dan rocked his style and he knew it.

Now, they were laying in Dan’s room in the dark. They were both on the floor because Phil felt weird about sleeping in Dan’s bed. and Dan felt weird about letting Phil sleep on the floor. So they compromised and were both sleeping on the floor. There was a bowl of half-eaten popcorn between them and Phil’s face was lit up by his phone screen because Nico was texting him and asking how his mum was doing. Phil told him she was doing okay and it wasn’t exactly a lie because Dan was wearing a shirt that said ‘Sewing Mum’ which made him just as good as Phil’s mother.

“This is the part of the sleepover where we talk about our deepest darkest secrets with each other,” Dan whispered after about twenty minutes of silence. He set his phone down, locking the screen, and turned over so he was facing Phil. The room was dark so Phil couldn’t see his face, but he was sure Dan was looking straight at him. “Tell me your secrets, Phil.”

Phil snorted and sent his good night message to Nico, putting his phone on do not disturb. “What exactly am I supposed to tell you? Who my first kiss was? If I’ve ever gone past third base?”

“I mean, those are great places to start. I’d like to hear about little awkward Philly fumbling through his first times. Sounds mortifying.”

Phil hummed and turned on his back, settling his hands on his belly. He closed his eyes, finding it much easier to remember when he didn’t have to worry about looking at another person. “My first kiss was Miranda Carsen. I was fourteen and we were at a birthday party. We played spin the bottle and she pretty much shoved her tongue down my throat.” Phil chuckled at the memory, smiling. “For a while, I thought I didn’t like kissing before I realised she was just a bad kisser.”

“Just as horrifying as I imagined,” Dan sighed dreamily. “I dig it.”

“Well what about you then? When was your first kiss?”

Dan grew quiet for a second, and then he let out the loudest groan he could muster. Phil raised his eyebrows but stayed quiet so he could explain. “Bryce Harper when I was sixteen.” Phil’s mouth immediately dropped open and he emitted a noise of surprise. Dan was gay? Or bi? Since when? And why the Hell had Phil never known this? “Bryce was my bully for a few years and would always tease me for being a faggot, even though I was positive I wasn’t gay back then. Once, he said some really hurtful things and I got really upset and started crying and ran away. He chased me down and, long story short, he ended up kissing me. I kind of liked it, which is how I found out I liked boys much more than I liked girls. But I was freaked out because my bully was kissing me, and I pushed him away. He never bothered me again after that, and that was that.”

Phil couldn’t speak for a moment. There was a lot of information that Dan had entrusted in Phil in only a short monologue. First of all, the knowledge that Dan was LGBT+ was making his head spin. Suddenly, he remembered all of those moments where Phil hadn’t been quite sure if he was flirting or not. Now, it made him wonder if Dan had been flirting. But knowing his personality, that could also be the way Dan just was. Secondly, Dan was bullied. Bullying was something Phil had sadly dealt with all throughout high school as well, so this was something that made them alike as well. And lastly, Dan’s bully had actually kissed him. And Dan had liked it.

That knowledge was almost too much for Phil to handle, so he ended up letting out a breathy laugh instead.

“That must have been so confusing for you,” Phil told him, turning on his side to face Dan. He tried to squint his eyes to see what Dan’s expression was, but he couldn’t make it out. “One moment, this guy is chronically bullying you and calling you names, and the next he’s trying to kiss you and be nice to you. I can’t imagine how confusing that’d be.”

Dan hummed. “Pretty confusing,” he said softly, in a voice that made Phil want to reach out and grab his hand. Not because he wanted to do anything weird, but because he wanted to offer his support. He didn’t though, because he had a boyfriend and holding other men’s hands was disrespectful. “That was a pretty rough time in my life,” Dan admitted after a moment of thought. “I had been in denial over my sexuality because I was being bullied about it, only to have everything come crashing down over me when I realised I liked it when my own bully kissed me. I thought I was sick, a masochist. Who the fuck likes it when the person who’s been torturing them for years suddenly shows some affection?”

Phil stayed silent during Dan’s rant, but he spoke up when Dan’s breathing turned heavy and he stopped talking. “You’re not sick, Dan,” he promised him. “You were just confused. That had to have been a hard thing to go through, and it’s not your fault.”

“I know that now,” Dan replied, and then there was a hand on Phil’s, one that was so gentle that Phil barely felt it at first. He was sure he should pull away, but Dan didn’t entwine their fingers, didn’t show that he was trying to come onto Phil in the slightest. He was just holding onto his hand as if he were seeking comfort, and Phil decided he could make an exception just this once. “I had some friends to help me through it and my mum was wonderful. I think the experience helped me be the person that I am today, so I don’t regret it anymore.”

The admittance made Phil’s heart constrict. He couldn’t imagine how strong Dan must have to be to get through something like that, to be able to look at himself in the past and be proud of what he’d accomplished instead of wallowing in shame. Phil squeezed his hand lightly. “I like who you are today,” Phil told him earnestly.

Even though it was dark, Phil could tell Dan was grinning when he said, “I do too.” And then a smaller, more quiet, “I like you too.”

They fell asleep a few hours later, after Phil’s throat had gone sore from laughing so hard. He hadn’t had a friend like this in a very long time, where they complimented each other so well to the point where they were giggling about absolutely nothing for thirty minutes straight. They could go from serious discussion one moment, to completely joking the next, and yet it flowed together easily.

Phil knew that he was the luckiest person in the world to have Dan as a friend.

Chapter Eight

[your-brother-crutchie]

That Time Race was Drunk

Spot and Race go out with Davey and Jack for Jack’s birthday and Race gets a little too drunk

Inspired by this video.

Spot and Race never go drinking. They drink. Boy, do they drink. They just never go drinking.

Race doesn’t hate the idea but Spot really doesn’t enjoy clubs or bars. They scare him because the loud, drunk people remind him of his father. Not that he would ever admit that. Not only that but he certainly doesn’t enjoy how reckless Race can get.

It was that time of year again and Jack’s birthday was just around the corner. Spot knew it was coming, especially when Jack set up a Facebook group chat with himself, Spot, Race and Davey. Either this was some surprise for Crutchie or, more likely, Jack wanted people to go drinking with him at the weekend.

Although Spot completely understood why Crutchie never felt safe in clubs, with his deteriorating leg, it didn’t stop him from wondering why Jack couldn’t just find one of the other newsies to go with him. They hadn’t even met, let alone been ‘friends,’ until the boy had walked in on Spot and Race in a somewhat compromising position. He had to admit though, if Race was going to go, Spot preferred to be going.

Jack had tried going drinking with just Race once and it had ended in table tennis and tears.

Jack Kelly: so about friday night …

Spot Conlon: I swear to god, Jack

Jack Kelly: you don’t even know what i was going to say!

David Jacobs: Come on, Jack, even you can see the pattern here.

Jack changed David’s nickname to ‘snake’

snake: Rude.

Race Track: im down

Spot Conlon: I swear to god, Tonio

Race changed Spot’s nickname to ‘killjoy’

Jack Kelly: race gets it

Jack changed Race’s nickname to ‘jace 4eva’

killjoy: You two sicken me

Jack Kelly: so we on?

killjoy: Oh my god, fine, someone tell Race to stop sitting on me

killjoy: I’ve accepted!

Jack Kelly: you can stop now race

Jack changed Spot’s nickname to 'king of brooklyn’

jace 4eva: kk :)

king of brooklyn: Okay, no

Spot changed Race’s nickname to 'Spot’s’

Jack Kelly: you two sicken me

Spot changed Jack’s nickname to 'Cockblocker’

Cockblocker: too many times

Cockblocker: you two seriously need to be more careful

Cockblocker: or just stop doing it in public

Cockblocker: i mean

king of brooklyn: Oh my god, Kelly, stop

Spot changed Jack’s nickname to 'Fucking the crip’

Fucking the crip: don’t you know it ;)

snake: Guys, stop, what the hell?

Fucking the crip: strong language there dave

David changed Jack’s nickname to 'Santa Fe’

Santa Fe: it was one time!

snake: You never live down random Rent outbreaks.

Spot’s: so, friday?

king of brooklyn: Oh my god, fine

Santa Fe: yes!

Santa Fe: just remember dave no random hook-ups

snake: What even?

king of brooklyn: I don’t get you, Kelly

king of brooklyn has left the conversation

Spot’s: c u guys friday!

Spot’s has left the conversation

snake: Bye, Jack

snake has left the conversation

Santa Fe: Teasing the resident asexual is fun

Santa Fe has left the conversation

Spot had known that the night was going to be stressful from the first moment that he’d let Race run to the bar and get his own drink. He’d been perfectly happy to accept what Spot offered him for a little but, eventually, Race had started to want something a little stronger. Spot knew why Race drank so much all of the time but that didn’t mean that he liked it.

Parents never having been at all accepting, Race had learned to hate himself when he was fourteen, just a few weeks after he’d started to have feelings for his best friend. Spot knew that Race hated to admit it, and he hated to think about it, but Race had had a time before Spot.

Spot knew that Race always tried to block it out because it was painful to think about; that was fair enough, it was just the ways that Race liked to go about doing it. He enjoyed getting so drunk that he couldn’t walk and made sure that he had a hangover for days. Most people wouldn’t want a hangover but at least when Race was throwing up into the toilet or grumbling into Spot’s shoulder, he wasn’t able to stop and think about he boy he’d let control him for years.

It had taken an intervention from Spot, four months after having met Race crying in the toilet of a dark and dingy bar, to finally make the Italian boy see sense.

Eventually, Spot decided that enough was enough and that Crutchie would be waiting up for them at the apartment that he shared with Jack. He tapped a somewhat sober Davey on the shoulder and gestured for him to collect a drunk Jack from the mob of girls that were sat around watching him draw them on a napkin.

Sighing, Spot turned to find Race, scanning the crowd before eventually allowing them to settle on Race dancing solo in the middle of the floor. He couldn’t help but smile; Race was a terrible dancer.

Although the moment was sweet, Spot couldn’t believe he’d turned into the kind of guy who’d marvel at his boyfriend dancing terribly without him, it had to be cut short as soon as Spot’s vision honed in on the guys eyeing Race. He grumbled to himself as he stalked across the dance floor, taking Race’s hand and pulling him tightly in to his body just once to put his back between the guys watching and his boyfriend.

Spot managed to eventually coax Race away from the dance floor and helped him stumble out of the loud gay bar to find Davey and Jack giggling on the wall outside. Unable to hide his irritation as he saw that Davey was less sober than he’d thought, Spot sighed and slung Race’s limp arm over his shoulder to help him hobble along.

The two dark-haired boys stood from the wall, patting Spot on the shoulder once before beginning the long walk back to Jack and Crutchie’s apartment, leaving Spot to carry Race alone.

Propping Race upright proved to be more difficult than anticipated as each step sent the pair lurching in another direction. Jack and Davey weren’t much help as they were walking a few feet ahead, whispering about things. Probably when Jack was going to confront Crutchie about his leg.

“Scottyyyyyyyy,” Race was slurring his words as he paused, stopping his feet and allowing Spot to almost overbalance them as he didn’t realise and tried to keep walking, “Can we get pizza?”

As Spot tried not to get angry at Race for allowing himself to get this far gone, he blew air out through his mouth before pulling Race into his side once more and trying to get him to step forwards, “No, Tonio, we’re going home to see Crutchie now. I’ll get you pizza tomorrow if you’re feeling up to it.”

Spot had a feeling that he wouldn’t be.

Spot couldn’t help but grumble as Race pulled away from him once more, eventually managing to stumble away and drop into the nearest doorway, “But I want pizza now.” He stretched his legs out until they sat straight in front of him and flipped his SnapBack around until it sat crooked and backwards on his sandy curls.

The best Spot could think to do was to keep talking as if his rational brain might come back for a second. He refused to attempt to lift Race with physical force. After growing up with his family, he’d promised himself that he’d never lay an aggressive hand on his partner and this was coming just a little too close to the forceful side for his liking. Not only that but he knew it would probably make Race panic and think about his time before Spot and his father, making the situation infinitely worse.

“Tonio, please.” He stood a couple of metres away, looking down at his boyfriend as he leaned back against the door and blinked his blue eyes back at him, “Antonio, get up. No- what are you doing?”

As Spot watched, Race had started singing. He stared Spot dead in the eye with his head lying against the wooden door behind him, singing 'Seventeen,’ from the Heathers musical that he was obsessed with, “Can’t we be seventeen?”

“Antonio, we’re twenty-one, what the fuck are you doing?” He had to admit, Race had a really pretty singing voice. Spot knew that the boy could sing, hell, he never got away from it, but for some reason, in that moment, this shocked him. He could barely move as Race stared him down.

When Race raised his arms and made hands that seemed to ask Spot to help him up, the darker-haired boy tried to haul the boy to his feet. Race, however, had other plans. He tugged on Spot’s arm until the boy had fallen down beside him, snuggling in as quickly as possible.

As it got to JD’s part, Spot sighed deeply when Race nudged him and begrudgingly joined in. Spot’s singing voice was certainly more reserved, Race was just belting the chorus whilst Spot was trying to keep his voice down for whoever’s doorstep they were sat on.

Jack and Davey had doubled back and dropped down next to the boys when it became obvious that Race wasn’t just going to stand up and move off until he was ready. They were giggling, trying to sing a Capella and failing miserably, bursting into laughter every time.

“What the fuck is happening here?” Although Spot still questioned what was going on in every break of lyrics, he grumpily sang the rest of the song with his boyfriend, kind of hating himself for knowing all of the words and kind of hating himself every time someone walked passed them on the street. Race did not have a care in the world but Spot was tragically inhibited.

As Race’s little song finished, Spot was failing at hiding the smile from his face as his boyfriend had near enough fallen asleep in his arms in the doorway, still hitting the high note perfectly. He wouldn’t normally be so affectionate in public but Spot wasn’t able to stop himself from pressing a soft kiss to Race’s forehead.

There was silence for a moment until Spot glanced up to see Jack and Davey staring at him, “You’re fucking good, man.”

The expletive shocked him, not that expletives normally shocked him, especially not from Jack but, he just hadn’t really expected anything like that, “Excuse me?” He knew they were still staring at him but Race had stirred slightly and Race was far more important so he turned his attention to the golden boy in his arms with the smallest of smiles. Spot would always deny it but when Race didn’t know he was watching, he could have the goofiest grin plastered across his face.

“We thought Race and Crutchie were fucking good but you’re also fucking good.” Once again, it was Jack doing the swearing as Spot vaguely ignored him. He didn’t really care, especially now that he knew what he was talking about.

Race and Crutchie both loved musical theatre, they couldn’t get enough of it, and were both ridiculously talented in the vocal department. One of Spot’s favourite things to do was listen at the door when Race was in the shower, not that he had to wait until he was in the shower, or wait at the door for that matter, Race sang around the house all the time. Crutchie was just as wonderful as Race, only he was a lot shyer about it. Jack always talked about having to beg Crutchie to sing for him when he wanted to hear it.

“Oh my god! Now there’s three of them, they could do Candy Store!”

Spot wasn’t really listening, he was focussing on Race and brushing the pad of his thumb carefully over his closed eyelids.

“Oh my gosh, yes!”

Spot couldn’t believe it had happened but Race really had softened him. He was officially the kind of person to watch his boyfriend sleep as he struggled to keep the smitten smile from his features. He was in public, after all.

He had a reputation to uphold.

[nihilcr]

I just want to say a big thank you to the people who messaged me about the passing of Jahseh. Those people will know how much I loved him and know what im going through now. I cant really say much other then Rest in Peace Jahseh Dwayne Onfroy you and your music kept me going through everything and anything and I greatly appreciate it. I made this collage to pay respect for everything you achieved and gave to everyone at such a young age. I love you. I woke up late this morning feeling like there was a dark cloud over me and there definitely is. Thank you to everyone who messaged me today it really means a lot. Ill leave you all with my level 3 English Speech on X and how he inspired me and also my auto biography in which I intertwined his lyrics from the song 'Lets pretend were numb'. There is alot to read. I dont expect you to read it all but if you are feeling the way im feeling it may help. If any of you are ever down about anything and struggling mentally please message me. I will try and help. I love you all. SPEECH: Intro: Why is some of my music depressing? Because when the lights are off, all the moneys gone,and the club scene is no more, I want you to be able to find comfort in me behind closed doors, when it all matters the most. - X Jahseh Dwayne Onfroy or as some of you may know him XXXTENTACION (pronounced X-X-X-tent-asi-ohn) or simply as X, was born on 23 January 1998. X grew up in Pompano Beach Florida but was thrown around the area because of his behaviour issues. At age 6, he plunged a glass shard into a man whom he believed was threatening his mother. He also got expelled in middle school for punting the mouth of a kid who had made fun of his mother. According to his own description, he was living the life of a "young savage" -- correctional houses, grandma's house, robbing houses. He built up a formidable list of offenses including : armed robbery, armed burglary, possession of a firearm, resisting arrest, three charges of grand theft and oxycodone possession. He was thrown in prison on October the 8th 2016 for supposedly beating his girlfriend at the time. During his imprisonment his music career popped off without any new releases or music videos. People started stumbling along his music on Soundcloud and supporting him, he was released from jail on March the 26th 2017. X, over the past couple years as gain some meaningful tattoos scattered across his body including Cleopatra along his chest which is his mother's name. The word “alone” tattooed above his left eyebrow. The word “numb” tattooed under his right eye. “Bad Vibes” tattooed on either eyelid. A broken heart under his left eye. An elephant on the front of his neck/throat area representing the whole idea of “an elephant in the room”, which is a metaphorical idiom for an obvious problem or risk no one wants to discuss. All these tattoos mean something close and personal to not only him but myself, but one sticks out in particular. Under the word numb is a tattoo of three dots in a line. These three dots or ellipsis represent life. X says that each dot stands for 1 - Born 2 - Peak 3 - Death. I tend to relate to this tattoo more and feel as if the other tattoos all come under this belief that you are born, you have a peak in your life and then you die. “When you have that genuine love for someone and they are your source of happiness. They become your drug” Born. X was born caring. Despite his size being 168cm tall and weighing around 60kg X does not shy away from violence. But I believe that his acts of violence are acts of caring. Stabbing his mother's partner because he felt he was abusing her is an act of caring. Kicking another student at school was because of the mentioning of his mother in a negative way. X defends himself and his family until he stops breathing. X cares for himself, his fans and his family not only physically but mentally. While in prison he was interviewed over the phone and was asked “What are you trying to do when you get out?”. He said he wants to invest in a teenage therapy where every teenager that is happy talks to another teenager that is struggling and depressed. This is because he believes it's really hard for most kids to be motivated to talk to a therapist because they can't relate to them as much. He also wants to donate PS4’s and TV’s to foster homes in his area and gather up as much money as he can to give back to the community in which he was raised. He even started filling the fridges of the less fortunate in Florida but sadly stopped the ordeal about a week into it as a group of people robbed him of his items and said he was doing it for attention and that he didn't care for the community. X cares for the kids and feels that's why many of them gravitate to his music. He has talked to certain fans that were depressed and looking for answers. He has also responded to some direct messages from kids on the borderline of suicide and has talked them out of it. X understands how it feels to be mentally alone and quotes “You can be in a room with a million people and still be alone”. He realises that some kids have families that just dont understand theres something going on in their head bigger than everything that's around them, he understand that feeling and how that feeling can drive you to the edge. X quotes “Even if my material is vulgar or i'm seen as a bad person, as long as these kids are happy and i'm giving them something to rage to instead of being depressed, that's all that matters to me”. The impact of X being caring relates to me a lot. When in primary school I knocked a kid out with a stick after he said something about my mother, and we were regarded as friends. As i've got older i've been told by counsellors I have anger issues and my anger does release sometimes but I have controlled it. I care for my family and friends over anything. Not only do I care for friends and family physically but I am told by my peers I am a caring person mentally and verbally. I enjoy making people happy, making people laugh and enjoy helping people out when they are down. I've had a lot of people come running to me for advice the past few years and some people keep coming back for guidance and for a certain comfort that other people can't give them. I am yet to truly discover why. Why do people come to me? I am definitely not the happiest chap in the world and I struggle with mental issues that circle my life on a daily basis. If my friends and family are happy then i'm happy and i've realised their happiness fuels me to keep going. X has made me realise that to be caring is a gift and you should cherish your friends and family. He also has made me realise I do need to take time out for myself and care for myself and my own issues. I feel he has realised this aswell because he is suffering from depression to this day but is still willing to help people through their own issues and not as much his own. “Be a blessing and then disappear, so you don't have to watch it all crumble in front of you” Peak. X being in prison was a peak in his life, it may not be a positive peak but the realisation he got from being imprisoned has made X look at life differently. He was asked “While you've been locked up recently, what have you been thinking about?”. X quoted “I found the answer to life”. He believes life is but a perception. He thinks the way you perceive things is very important, life is but brainpower, life revolves around your brain, life is purely the brain and your thought process. Your conscious and subconscious mind rule the world X has made me learn that nothing else matters. Nothing else matters except what you desire and what your dreams are. X believes the whole purpose of humanity is to create and the problem is that everybody reaches a certain point of enlightenment or succession and it upsets the balance, the balance being the people around that individual. You can have a squad of friends and a certain character can become overly successful introducing jealousy between friends. If you have a friend that treats you differently and more harsh because of your succession and your hard work they aren't your friend, they aren't the people you want to be around, they will do anything to bring you down. I respect my friends decisions and their beliefs even if I don't agree with it, I still support them and help in any way I can. Some of my friends have made stupid decisions and i've cleaned their mess up hoping that they'd do the same for me. X said being in prison has made him want to become a better person and that prison changed his world. X wants to give all of his fans and this generation information they’re not supposed to receive or opinions that some people don't want to hear because they don't agree with it. He quotes “I dont mean to disrespect anybody, but religion is for the small-minded.” I again don't mean to disrespect anybody but I agree with this statement. All religions believe in higher powers. Both X and myself believe if you're going to be a good person, be a good person. If you're going to be a bad person, be a bad person. It doesn't matter. Nobody's opinion should matter. Nothing matters. Anything you put on this plant will stay here. If life is infinite and there's the slightest possibility that you have to come back to this miserable fucking planet, Id stop putting all this horrible fucking shit out here and make sure you live your life happy. X and I believe that happiness is all that matters. If it makes you happy, it's all that matters, and you will struggle and struggle and struggle but happiness will flower in the end. X quotes “I will help everyone find happiness or I will at least help everyone find an answer and a purpose”. X’s beliefs have impacted me greatly, i'm not religious and feel religion is something I could never see myself falling to. I respect peoples beliefs, some of my closest friends are religious but in my opinion I don't feel as if I will ever sought out guidance from someone that isn't proven to be real. I seek guidance through my friends and family, through music, through art, through happiness. I believe whatever makes you a happier person is all you need to worry about and all you need to focus on. Whether it's video games, sport, music, anything. I believe people need to stop judging, stop throwing comments at others because I feel they won't ever recycle. Judgement is just a part of this harsh reality we live in today. But it's up to us to look at life in a way that makes us happy, in a way that no matter how much you get judged for it you can carry on and be proud of yourself. Anything that takes me away from joy and happiness, I hate. Anything or anyone that makes me feel worthless, makes me look endlessly into the mirror at myself and contemplate killing myself, I have no respect or love for. They are to me simply a piece of dirt sitting on my shoulders waiting to be wiped away so I can play on. “When I turned 13, I blew out my candles, my wish was to be dead at the age of 18” Death. Nowadays depression has become a characteristic of many people on this earth. X has been depressed and packed with anger since he was a child but is still plagued with both to this day. X said he was a weird kid and was alone a lot of the time even when he was at home. He was asked “You’ve dealt with a lot of anger and depression in your life. Where do you feel like that stuff comes from?”. X answered “Being alone”. X’s mother went through a lot while raising him. She did everything she could do and as he has grown he has looked back on everything he's said and feels she deserved a lot more credit. X didn't have his dad around, it was just his mother. His father was in prison at the time and I assume he still is, X has nothing to do with his father and doesn't mention him at all. Because of his behaviour issues he was thrown around the Florida area. He lived not only with his mother for a time but stayed at his grandmothers, aunties and even his mother's friends houses. He felt alone. Being placed away from people he had any attachment to is what made him the way he is now. X believes being alone breeds a different kind of madness and a different kind of pain. He believes not receiving a certain amount of love can also break a person, especially a child growing up without love and support. But because of his beliefs he has realised and looked in on depression and used it to his advantage. His lyrics are based off his depression and anger, if any of you have actually listened to a range of his music you can tell a difference between a depressing song and a song based on anger. He puts all his pain, insanity and dark thoughts into his music because he feels its therapeutic. He felt as if sharing his thoughts was bad but good at the same time because it made him feel better and happier. He realised people fed on his music so was motivated to keep making music not only for himself but his fans as he saw it was giving people energy and healing them and he cherished it. His tattoos have a lot to do with his depression, the broken heart and the words “numb” and “alone” all represent emotion and feelings he is stuck with to this day and what he is basing his lyrics off. Making music helps him release his feelings, it makes not only him happier but his fans and this is proven by a post I found on his tumblr. A fan said “This isn't actually a question but I wanted to thank you for your music, it saved my life, thank you.” X replied “and I wanna thank you for listening, you give me a reason to stay alive, if it wasn't for you guys I would've killed myself a long time ago.” His reply hits me quite hard as I can relate to it because there are people in this room right now that don't realise they are the ones that are keeping me going. There are some friends that stand out from others. There are some friends that don't realise how much I actually appreciate their company, their voice, their laugh the list goes on. There are some friends that aren't actually friends. There are some friends that are more than friends they are family. Nowadays i'm learning to identify my true friends and getting rid of the people who linger around me for my possessions. I fill my mind everyday with a quote from Trent Shelton “If all you had to offer was friendship who would you still be able to call your friend?” I started offering people nothing but my company and have quickly realised how many people were using me, those people have turned into a piece of dirt just like the judgemental people have. Alongside his reply helping me discover my true friends, his music has impacted my life quite strongly. His lyrics and beliefs inspire me to write for example my autobiography had his lyrics throughout it. My photography writing and the photos themselves now speak to me because of his lyrics. The mood of my writing is strongly based on his songs and his feelings. His music inspires me to care even more, they inspire me to believe and perceive life differently. His music although it's depressing takes my mind into a deep dark space, it makes me truly think about if I were to kill myself, how would the people around me feel. It makes me realise how I felt when my brother killed himself, it makes me realise how my friends felt when Harman killed himself. It makes me realise how serious suicide and depression is. Conclusion: X has made me realise that what is real will prosper. His music has taken me into pools of darkness on a daily basis and no matter how badly I want to kill myself, his music stops me in my tracks. His perception on life creeps into my mind and I realise killing myself wouldn't be an act of caring, it wouldn't make my friends happy. It would slowly burrow into their hearts and fill their souls with corruption. My friends will end up the way X feels. The way I feel. Numb. Alone. Broken. They'll forever be the elephant in the room. Anima vestra - free your soul- AUTOBIOGRAPHY: Numb I advise you to not hide your feelings. Don’t pretend to be okay when you’re not okay. Don’t pretend to be happy when you’re sad. It’ll only lead to your misery. I dream so much and i just can't seem to find an answer for what i'm living for in general. Everyday I seem to wake up on the wrong side of the bed. Everyday I stumble down the hallway to locate the shower. Everyday I sit - trapped, dazed, lost - in migraine, drowning myself in hot water that hits my pasty skin as if it were acid rain. Everyday I curl up in a glass box and contemplate crying, contradicting what people have told me “It will get better just give it time”. “You’ll be fine, you’ll push through”. “Someone out there loves you for who you are” I can't keep living like this, it's breaking my heart day by day. Everyday I lather myself in clothing representing a place I hate, and i say to myself, “How is this going to get better.” Four years. Four counsellors. Four lives lost. “I don’t want to talk to you, you can’t help me, i'm not algood.” Everyday I think, why am I like this? Why am I so depressed? Why am I so angry? Why am I so negative, so overwhelmed with a cloud that is slowly hovering over my life, slowly killing off positivity as if it were a pest. Why I ask? Well all I can nail it down to is 17213. But is it truly the answer? I mean who's to say you find an answer when there isn’t? 17213 are probably just numbers to you; the 17th of the 2nd 2013 aren't just any numbers to me, they are the numbers symbolising the day my brother decided to end it all. Chase Robson - loving, honourable, committed - was a father, a son, a grandson, a brother, a soul that was forever changing for the best, changing for his son, changing for his family, changing for himself. I was unsuspecting of the literally breaking news that was to be heard. What if you just die? Wondering why I was slouched in a hunk of metal on wheels, dad sat uncomfortably as if something was stuck to the end of his tongue. Regretfully, my father voiced a collection of words. I didn't know they would deprive me of positivity and create a continuous loop of death and darkness. “Chase has committed suicide.” I, awakened by the news, had then truly discovered what suicide was - dark, destructive, unexpecting - what it can be and what it can do. Destroy. What if life as we know it is all a dream? The car's window that day seemed to be the cleanest it had ever been. I was able to pierce right through it, through the calm gathered clouds resting in the sky. I was able to envision hope in the sky, a sense of life after death, something I never believed or contemplated until then. What if we live for no reason? My mind - deserted, abandoned, lost - searched for answers. It searched amongst the sky and its infinite crowd of clouds to discover nothing but the vision of the sky’s hue, that darkened, caved in as the sun hid behind the pimples of our earth. It threw a ribbon of fire that seemed to slash my eyes causing them to close forcing me to see and feel the internal darkness that had been brought upon me. What if we just disappear when we die? I had felt like my life was not special anymore, like it wasn't worth living. I discovered that one type of drug can kill you. One type of firearm. One type of knot. One type of idea can end it all. I was filled with the idea “If he did it, so can I”. Should I cling to life? Or should I just kill myself? I now feel - four years on - lost and numb. I have accepted the harshness of reality and let it take over my life. I have become the kid who doesn't care anymore. The kid who takes the piss out of himself so no one else bothers to. The kid who is positive and social. The kid who has a lot of potential but doesn't realise it. The kid who drinks - nearly every day - to forget, but always remembers. So many contradictions, contemplation. I don't care about myself. I care too much for others, for the people around me. I enjoy helping people. Doing things for people. Buying things for people. The problem is that it fills my mind with the idea that people use me. I shove people aside and hate them for using me and despise them for not giving anything back. I throw them away and realise that they are what I need because seeing them smile is what keeps me going, it makes me feel worthy. And now here I am trying to save the world, when I can't even save myself. It's getting harder and harder to mask my pain. I come to discover that I have lost. Lost hope. Lost positivity. I have lost the race that everyone is competing in. Constant laps of death. Everyday i'm alive adds to my slow unpreventable death. I can't decide whether I want to keep running or just fall. I have enough money to be happy, but having all the money in the world doesn't make you happy. You can't buy true friends, true love or true life. The world will know money can't stop a suicidal weakness. I feel i'll forever be the elephant in the room. I can't tell if I wanna live or if I wanna die. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed isn't the problem. It isn't the reason for the way I am. It is because everyday I seem to wake up. Please save me.

[viralhottopics]

Nashville lies at the heart of a divided country: Trump got bubbas to the polls

As the president staged a rally attended largely by out-of-towners, Democratic-leaning denizens of Tennessees Brooklyn pondered an urban-rural rift

Men in stetsons, check shirts and jeans swing their partners around to the thrum of drums, fiddle, keyboard and steel guitar of Mike Oldham & The Tone Rangers. The walls at Roberts Western World in Nashville, Tennessee, are coated with beer logos spelled out in neon or on lampshades or mirrors, old concert posters, photos of country music greats and three rows of cowboy boots for sale. The tiled floor is barely visible under the heaving crowd.

At this and other honky tonk bars on Broadway, Nashvilles main tourist drag, the music is old country: songs about drink, divorce, hardscrabble heartbreak, the miserable struggle to make ends meet. It is a playlist that has taken on new resonance in the era of Donald Trump, like a requiem for white working class voters in small towns who, feeling left behind with nothing to lose, propelled him to the White House.

But Nashville is a booming city where southern civility, religion and conservatism collide with a young, creative and liberal population. Paradoxically, the heart of country music is increasingly at odds in class, culture and politics with the heartland that surrounds it. In this it mirrors the dislocation of other burgeoning American cities that are islands of Democratic blue in deep red Republican states.

There is a vast gulf in ideology and approach to the world, said Bruce Dobie, a Nashville-based media entrepreneur. Its just crazy right now. My street and city are overwhelmingly Democratic. Were astonished by everything we see at the moment.

Dobie estimated that when the US president rolled into Nashville on Wednesday for a campaign-style rally, around 80% of the crowd was from out of town. Trumps warm-up acts were country singers the Gatlin Brothers and Lee Greenwood, whose rendition of God bless the USA earned a cheer with the words to the hills of Tennessee. Trump joined him on stage, grinned, shook his hand and raised two thumbs up as the crowd chanted USA! USA!, some with fists raised, in a near-religious frenzy.

So Im thrilled to be here in Nashville, Tennessee, the home of country music, southern hospitality and the great president Andrew Jackson, Trump said, referring to the 19th-century populist described by the state museum as champion of the common man and notorious for forcing Native Americans off their land.

The crowd waved signs including Promises made, promises kept, Lefty media lies and Women for Trump. Carma Williams, 63, a retired office manager who had travelled from 70 miles away, said: I love him because hes honest. Hes doing everything he said he would do during the campaign. I think hes the first president whos done that.

Inside Roberts Western World after Trumps rally in Nashville, Tennessee. Photograph: Jon Morgan for the Guardian

Outside the Nashville Municipal Auditorium there was a modest gathering of protesters. One stood out. James Walker was wearing a red Make America great again baseball cap, sunglasses, a beard, a black North Face jacket and khaki trousers. He held aloft a sign that said: Ive made a huge mistake.

The 31-year-old explained: I voted for Trump. I thought it would be a positive change, a change that Obama didnt come through on, and it would shake things up. It has shaken things up but in a bad way. I realise now that some of the things that were just campaign promises seemed to carry on beyond the election and become a reality.

Walker, who grew up in California and spent two years in the military, said he ordered the trademark Make America great again hat many weeks ago but it had only just arrived. So that was the spark: I know what Im going to do with this.

He expressed a desire for atonement. I dont know what thats going to be but this is the first step: showing up and being honest.

Walker now works as a wine broker and lives across the Cumberland river in east Nashville, dubbed the citys own Brooklyn with its embrace of beards, tattoos and artisanal foods, along with Jack Whites record label and an explosion of diverse guitar bands and songwriters. Walker added: Its mostly Democratic, blue territory. Only a few of my friends admitted to voting for Trump and did so in confidence. Today is the first day Ive gone public.

Beside him at Wednesdays demonstration was Lisa Kaas Boyle, an environmental attorney holding a bag that posed the question: What would Dolly do? a reference to country music hall-of-famer Dolly Parton, who supports gay rights but said of Trump and rival Hillary Clinton: I think theyre both nuts. Surveying the queue of thousands of Trump supporters that snaked up and around and down a grassy hill, she said: Im shocked by this huge turnout. It really feels like a gut punch for me. Im sure they came from far and wide. Its shocking to me that people have no regard for their fellow Americans.

Boyle has just returned to Nashville after 30 years, partly to be close to family and partly in response to Hillbilly Elegy, author JD Vances personal insight into problems of the white working class including alcoholism, divorce, domestic violence, drugs and hopelessness. As the Washington Post put it, elites in both parties are studying the book as a sort of Rosetta Stone to understand the conditions that enabled the rise of Trump.

The 52-year-old, said: After reading Hillbilly Elegy, I feel progressives have to be involved. I cant just hang out in California with my like-minded friends. I have to make a difference here.

In last years election, Trump trounced Hillary Clinton by 26% in Tennessee, a Bible belt state that was the birthplace of the Ku Klux Klan and was last won by a Democrat when Bill Clinton, a southerner, carried it in 1996. Among the few counties he did not win were those containing Memphis and Nashville.

There are a lot of liberal artists

Now, Nashville is thriving with an influx of young professionals priced out of other cities. A record 13.9 million people visited the area in 2016, up 45% over the past decade. The music industry is worth $10bn to the region, according to a 2013 report commissioned by the Music City Music Council, and includes Americana, jazz and other genres as well as country.

It has come a long way since the Grand Ole Opry barn dance became a radio hit in the 1940s, leading to a recording industry and stars from Hank Williams then to Taylor Swift today. It has long been seen as music of the conservative heartland when Elton John denied a rumour that he would perform Trumps inauguration, he suggested, Why not ask … one of those fucking country stars? Theyd do it for you but its relationship with politics has always been more complex than often assumed.

Downtown Nashville. Visitors to the area, drawn by its famous music scene, are up 45% over the past decade. Photograph: Jon Morgan for the Guardian

Bob Dylan, the troubadour responsible for some of the 60s defining protest songs, spent the end of the decade in Nashville and collaborated with Johnny Cash, the man in black who performed for presidents and prisoners. Merle Haggards 1969 Okie from Muskogee was regarded as a conservative anthem but he later defended the Dixie Chicks after they condemned George W Bushs invasion of Iraq and recorded a song in support of Hillary Clinton.

During last years presidential election an informal survey conducted by the trade publication Country Aircheck found that 46% of industry professionals supported Trump while 41% favoured Clinton. But unlike Hollywood, most prefer to remain silent, perhaps fearing that any declaration of allegiance risks losing half their audience.

Earlier this month an analysis by BuzzFeed found that of the 87 artists currently on either Billboards Top Country Albums or Hot Country Songs charts, only five Sturgill Simpson, Justin Moore, Chris Janson, Maren Morris and the Brothers Osborne have gone on the record with clear pro or anti-Trump views.

Sitting at the bar at the Red Door Saloon in east Nashville, Clay Johnson, 29, a composer, said: Trump probably got a lot more support from country music artists than hip-hop artists. But there are a lot of liberal artists. It would be wrong to paint them all as conservatives.

Musing on the urban-rural divide, he added: In rural Tennessee youll see people whove lived there and grown up there. In Nashville people tend to come and go like in any city. Its population versus space. Its shitty how one side can dictate how the other side lives because they live different lives. Its the same anywhere. When you live in the city, its different from living on a farm.

At another table as the clock ticked past 1am was Zie Campbell, 25, a freelance illustrator and teacher. Tennessee is a red state, Nashville is not, she said. Its a melting pot, as much of a New York as its going to get down here. This has been very hard for our specific community because we are surrounded by ignorance and bigotry.

In the rural areas theres not a desire to experience anything else. My dad smokes Marlboro Reds, Ill smoke Marlboro Reds. My dad listens to Johnny Cash, Ill listen to Johnny Cash. In the city you dont have that option any more: whether or not you are seeking it, youre forced to see others.

Zie Campbell, an illustrator and teacher in Nashville: This has been very hard for our specific community. We are surrounded by ignorance. Photograph: Jon Morgan for the Guardian

Campbells parents live 220 miles away in Knoxville. Her father voted for Trump but she found Clintons defeat devastating. She continued: I am an example of the exact opposite of my dads opinions. When the sexual harassment allegations against Trump came out, my dad and I had a long conversation. I cried. We decided were not talking politics after that.

If the other side is willing to bomb Dresden, how do you fight that?

How can the rift between urban and rural, between blue and red, be healed? I dont know if there is something to be done, Campbell said. I dont think anyone is trying to sway anyone else. I dont think theres a whole lot of grey area.

Dobie, the media entrepreneur, said: Thats the $64m question. If youre a modern Democrat youre not in the mood to pussyfoot any more, having been subjected to what amounted to the bombing of Dresden in the last election. Trump committed Dresden. No one is in the mood be accommodating or easy.

Were now in a moment when I dont see much room for sitting around the campfire and holding hands. If the other side is willing to bomb Dresden, how do you fight that? You really have to take it to the streets.

Both parties are likely to compete fiercely for what might be described as the country music constituency. Dobie said: Struggling to meet bills, shooting a deer, breaking up with your girlfriend the lyrics of the country song speak the needs, desires and concerns of the conservative folk and thats why its been successful.

Thats the crowd were all talking about. Thats the demographic thats up for grabs in America and Clinton couldnt harness. Trump got the bubbas to the polls; Clinton did not. The bubbas are listening to country music.

Clay Johnson, a composer in Nashville: Its shitty how one side can dictate how the other side lives. Photograph: Jon Morgan for the Guardian

The divisions here are reflected across America, after an election that exposed brutal faultines and the education split among whites was said to be the critical factor.

Nadine Hubbs, a professor of music at the University of Michigan and author of Rednecks, Queers, and Country Music, said: In the US, our cities are places where many of us go to prosper while small towns or exurbs or suburbs are often places where people are left behind.

Nashville and Austin [in Texas] are really good examples of this phenomenon. To bridge the gap there are economic inequalities we need to pay attention to. Often the most unbridgeable gaps are the ones created by contempt for another group: lack of respect and stripping of dignity.

The way people who are prospering look down on folks who are in rural spaces, often associated with country music, creates the kind of divisions that are really hard to bridge.

The elites talk about the need for education of people in rural spaces; well, we know almost nothing about them. The economic and social segregation of the classes is worse maybe than its ever been in our history.

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from Nashville lies at the heart of a divided country: Trump got bubbas to the polls