#You guys ever clean out your old shit and see something and go 'I guess I can change this idea up and do it for something else'?

[the-insanity-of-mojiru]

What do you mean this audio is 6 years old, I just heard it yesterday--

[sweethearts4you]

sick cuddles | l. Williamson x teen!reader

(just pretend youre the dog haha)

summary: you go to training sick, leah takes care of you

(i'm not that good at summaries)

a/n: hi guys!! this is my very first time writing any form of story outside of school, so some feedback and constructive criticism is appreciated! also keep in mind that i don't know anything about pro footballers schedules, so i'm just guessing. english isn't my first language so please keep that in mind <3

1064 words

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After snoozing your alarm for the seventh time you finally decided to wake up. It felt like you had woken up from the dead, you had the most dreadful headache ever and your throat was so sore, it felt like there was a literal porcupine inside your throat. You tiredly reached for your phone to check the time, and it read 09.52 “OH SHIT, I'M LATE, LEAH’S GOING TO KILL ME!” you exclaimed, which you quickly regretted once you burst out into a coughing fit.

-

When you first joined Arsenal at 16 years old, it was Leah who first took you under her wing. She let you live with her until you found an apartment you could move into, despite her protests of you being too young to live alone you decided to move. The first four months of you living there Leah always came over to check on you, she would have kept doing it if you hadn't complained about it all the time. She agreed to stop coming over, only if you would call her immediately if something happened.

-

You quickly dressed yourself and made some toast, and ran out the door. It was 10.14 when you finally got to the arsenal training centre. Luckily for you the girls didn't notice you coming in, since they were busy cleaning up breakfast. “Hey y/n! Where have you been? I didn’t see you coming in earlier” Beth asked you once she saw you. “Oh, i was just… sitting over there” you say awkwardly as you waved your hand to a random area. “Weird, anyways..” she said as she started rambling on about Myle and how cute she is. You were honestly not paying attention and just throwing in a random mhm and awe once in a while. You felt someone looking at you, so you looked around a bit, until you saw Leah looking intensely at you as if she was trying to figure something out. 

Leah felt like something was a little off with you, your voice was a little hoarse and you looked a little pale. She made a mental note to keep an eye on you throughout training. Beth was still rambling on about Myle and showing you pictures of her, until Leah came and interrupted “Y/N come on you’re going to be late”,  “Okayy” you sighed. 

You were walking to the pitch with Leah until you abruptly stopped as a wave of dizziness came over you, “Hey, are you alright? What happened? She asked as she put her arm around to steady you. “Yeah, I just suddenly got a little dizzy, but it's alright” you responded. Leah brushed it off, knowing you wouldn't tell her anyways.

-

You were trying to dribble the ball past Katie, until Katie went in for a tackle, which was 100% clean, but since you were sick and a little unstable you fell over onto the grass, face down. “Ey, mate you good?” Katie asked you, “Yea.. just give me second” you groaned. “Hey! What's going on?” You heard Leah yell. “I don’t know!” Katie said defensively. You heard Leah running over, and when she got to you, you felt her bend over and put a hand on your back, “Hey kid, what's wrong? Where does it hurt?” she asked softly, “My head” you whispered in a barely audible voice. “Okay” she said worriedly, she put her hand on your head, “Jesus christ, you're burning up!” she said, sounding quite distressed. She lifted you up from the ground, “Alright good girl, let’s get you inside. Okay?” Leah said softly, as she was basically carrying you, as you were barely able to stand on your own. “Okay” you mumbled, not really paying attention to what she was saying because of how much your head was pounding.

-

“She has a high fever, and is quite dehydrated. She can't train for the rest of the week and she needs lots of rest and make sure she drinks enough water..” the doctor said. “Alright, you hear that bub. Lots of rest and water” she said, while rubbing your back.

By the time you were done at the doctor, training was over. “Y/n/n training is over so i'm going to drive us to mine, okay?” Leah said. “Yeah, okay..” you said tiredly. You were in the backseat while Leah was driving. Every once in a while Leah glanced back to see how you were doing, when she looked back at you she smiled fondly at the sight of you sound asleep leaning against the window. When you made it home you were still asleep so Leah carried you inside deciding that you needed the rest. When you made it inside Leah put you softly down onto the couch, so she could keep an eye on you while she made food.

“Hey sweets wake up, I made your favourite pasta.” she whispered softly, while rubbing your back. “Mmm okay” you mumbled half asleep. After you and Leah finished eating, she took the plates and started washing them. “Thanks for the Le, it actually tasted good” you joked in your hoarse voice, “Ha ha” she said sarcastically, just as you were about to laugh you burst out into a coughing fit. Leah turned around alarmed, “Hey, hey, it's okay” she said comfortingly while she rubbed your back. Once you had settled down, she went to get something. When she came back you saw her carrying a cup of tea, “Here, it's tea for your throat”, “Thanks Leah” you mumbled.

Once you had finished your tea, you yawned and rubbed your eyes, “Let's get you to bed, alright?” Leah said, in which you just hummed in reply. You walked into the bedroom and changed into the clothes Leah lent to you, which was an old Arsenal hoodie and a pair of pyjama shorts. “Le, snuggles please?” you asked shyly when you were done changing, “Alright bub, i'm just going to change then i'll be back” she said chuckling. When she was done changing you both laid down in bed, with you laying against Leah with your head in her crook of her shoulder, and Leah hugging you while tracing aimlessly around your back. Just like you guys used to do after you had a nightmare and came into her room, when you lived together. 

Shortly after you were sound asleep in her arms.

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hope you guys enjoyed! a comment or some feedback would be greatly appreciated <3

[lunememes]

🌙 * ― 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐓 ( a collection of sentence starters from season one of amazon's fallout show. feel free to adjust the wording and pronouns as needed! do not add to the list. )

❛  and in that respect, he could be a cannibal or just like, crammed full of tumours. ❜ ❛  flesh is weak but steel endures. ❜ ❛  unless you know what to find and preserve, you're more useful as a corpse. ❜ ❛  how do we know they're not feral? ❜ ❛  well what makes you think i give a good goddamn about that? ❜ ❛  well what the fuck would you know 'bout where i'm from? ❜ ❛  but for me, well, i do this shit for the love of the game. ❜ ❛  you come from a place of rules, of laws. this place is indifferent to all of that. ❜ ❛  question is, will you still want the same things when you have become a different animal altogether? ❜ ❛  you earn the suit through acts of bravery. this is an act of bravery. ❜ ❛  and i'm telling you you're gonna go through a whole lot worse if you stay 'round here. trust me. ❜ ❛  clean hair. nice teeth. and all ten fingers. must be nice. ❜ ❛  the vaults were nothing more than a hole in the ground for rich folks to hide in while the rest of the world burned. ❜ ❛  you know your kind ain't welcome here. ❜ ❛  you gotta be fucking kidding me. ❜ ❛  you'll be lucky if you can make it to fucking breakfast. ❜ ❛  i'm sorry for yellin', been shot in the leg. ❜ ❛  do you have anyone else you can trust in this town? ❜ ❛  do i really have to kill him? ❜ ❛  well, if you like the taste of lavender, why not just drink a bottle of perfume? ❜ ❛  that's the worst thing i've ever put in my mouth. that's horrible. ❜ ❛  do unto others as you would have done unto you. ❜ ❛  thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time. ❜ ❛  water water everywhere, and not a drop to drink. ❜ ❛  where do you think you're going? you ain't going nowhere. ❜ ❛  there you are, you little killer. ❜ ❛  no! what a disgusting idea. i'm simply going to harvest your organs. ❜ ❛  i may end up looking like you, but i'll never be like you. ❜ ❛  i really wanna believe you but practically every person i've met up here has tried to kill me. ❜ ❛  listen, hey. you don't get this medicine, you're gonna pass out, okay? and if you lose consciousness, we're both gonna die. ❜ ❛  i've seen these in old engineering manuals but never in real life. ❜ ❛  now, seeing as everyone on earth seems to be after that thing, i'm guessing that's what you're looking for too? ❜ ❛  and you could've killed me when i collapsed back there and you didn't. ❜ ❛  i get that trust doesn't come easily up here. but you can trust me. ❜ ❛  i hate it up here. ❜ ❛  the things i'm willing to do for you never cease to amaze me. ❜ ❛  hey, hey, hey. come here. i'm sorry. i know you always try to do the right thing. that's what i love about you. ❜ ❛  trust doesn't come easily to those of us with a guilty conscience. ❜ ❛  in my experience, the apple tends not to fall too far from the tree. is that true in your case? ❜ ❛  these people are hiding something from us, and i'm gonna prove it to you, okay? ❜ ❛  there's always some new little faction, ain't there? brand new team of believers with their own dumbass ideas about how they gonna save the world. ❜ ❛  so what d'you think [name]? am i really walking out of here today, or are you gonna try and draw on me for what i did? ❜ ❛  a good bad guy doesn't see themselves as the bad guy. ❜ ❛  and yet power is taken, not given. a lesson you seem to have learned. ❜ ❛  war never changes. ❜ ❛  you look out at this wasteland, looks like chaos. but there's always somebody behind the wheel. and that's who i wanna talk to. ❜ ❛  maybe you can stop them. maybe you can't. maybe all you can do is try. ❜

[3minsover]

AUgust Day 30:

steve tries to employ his ‘act like you don’t care’ method when he realizes he has a crush on eddie.

it’s about a month or so after vecna, and the party are more inseparable than they’ve ever been, older teens included, and eddie’s settled in like he’s been one of the gang since day one.

the moment steve realizes that old familiar fluttering in his stomach, the telltale thrum of blood rushing to his cheeks as eddie plucks out nameless tunes on his acoustic or asks steve if he wants to come over to get high or watch a movie, steve knows exactly what’s happening. it doesn’t scare him as much as he thought it would, falling for one of his best friends, especially not one who’s a guy. he doesn’t really know the protocol for a situation such as this, but some habits die hard, and something in steve’s brain is still hardwired to receive that hit of endorphins and return to the routines of old.

thing is, steve’s never put on this show when there’s another guy involved. with girls, he can be cool and suave and just the right side of dismissive until he has them begging to be even offered a palm to eat out of.

but eddie’s different. both in that he’s a guy, and steve’s pretty sure this same move isn’t going to work on him, but also, eddie’s different. eddie’s something special. something that feels like the first splash of rainfall after a drought. eddie has him yearning in a way he’d never thought himself even capable. and as fiercely as he longs to just grab eddie by the face and kiss the mischievous grin from his lips in the hopes it makes his insides smile too, steve brushes eddie off just as much. he waves quick, flippant ‘hey’s (but he longs to furl eddie up in a hug, bury his face in the collar of his leather jacket), he blinks away eddie’s jokes with just the practiced hint of a smirk (though he wishes he’d just let himself laugh), he offers backhanded compliments (when he’s desperate to tell eddie he has the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen, and that he wants them to be the first thing he sees in the morning until the day he dies).

eddie shrugs it all off for a couple weeks with only a twitching narrow of his eyes, a deliberate, searching stare.

steve thinks maybe, just maybe, this has worked.

until eddie confronts him about it.

“hey, did i do something?”

“what?”

“did i- you’ve been- you got a problem with me?”

“why would you- what? no!” steve tries to protest, but eddie barrels on, sounds just so demoralised it’s hard to listen to.

“look, if you don’t like me being around or whatever, just say it, man. i can’t take all this cold shoulder shit anymore.”

steve blinks hard, dumbfounded, with the sinking realization that his trademark move hadn’t worked - if anything, it’d done the exact opposite of what he hoped. steve had felt that electricity with every glance at eddie, but he now fears he’s crossed some wires somewhere, and it was the spark of faulty cables, rather than the fizz of something mutual. and if steve’s plan has backfired, the only thing left for him to do is come clean.

“i don’t have a problem with you. i mean, i guess i kinda do have a problem with you, but- but!” steve preempts eddie’s inevitable crestfallen sigh with the raise of his pointer fingers, both staying and apologetic all at once. “but it’s not a problem you caused. it kinda is but it’s also not. shit i used to be so good at this. i have a problem with you because i don’t know what to do with you. i don’t know how to be around you without- without- you’re always so- so alive and fun and sweet and just looking at you makes me want to scream into my pillow, but in like, a good way? and my heart gets all- and your eyes are just- so. i guess i got a problem with you, because i… want you to be my problem. i want you- uh. yeah.”

eddie is silent for a long moment, and steve can almost see each of his words slotting into place behind eddie’s eyes. “steve. i… i’m not gonna do us both the disservice of pretending i understood all of what you just said, but i think i got the highlights?”

steve rakes a minutely trembling hand through his hair, finding anything to break up the sudden stillness.

“you did? cause even i feel like I’ve talked myself round in circles here.”

“i think so. let me get this straight. you… think i’m fun?”

“yup.”

“looking at me makes you want to-”

“scream into my pillow, yeah.”

“oh- oh okay. noted. and um, you,” eddie starts slowly, seems to be feeding the words out carefully like it’ll spook steve to hear them from another mouth but his own. “you want me to be your problem.” steve swallows, inhales deep, and nods.

“yeah. cause, i guess to me it wouldn’t really be a problem. it would- that would be something i wanted. you’re- something i wanted- want. god, this is harder than i thought.” steve chuckles nervously and eddie just stares, mouth hanging just a little open.

“but you…” eddie starts, brows knitting in confusion, “you don’t like me. you barely talk to me even though i wanna talk to you whenever you’re around, even when i’m trying to make you laugh you hardly even smile, and i try to make you laugh like, all the time- oh.” something flashes in eddie’s eyes as he stops himself dead in the middle of his sentence. “oh my god. you- you were- shit, dustin talked my ear off about this; act like, uh, like you don’t care, huh?”

steve’s already burning cheeks threaten to start giving off smoke, and he’s about ready to hotfoot it out the door and disappear forever, but then eddie smiles, and it’s one of those devilish, smirky, sparkling smiles that steve loves.

“you got me, harrington,” eddie admits on an exhale. “you got me good with that. got me hooked.”

steve winces a little, tries to smile back.

“i did?”

“shit, yeah. you’re better than i thought.” eddie chuckles giddily; it makes steve smile for real.

“so, i can admit that i actually do like you now? that i’ve been crushing on you for like, months?”

taking a step closer and placing his palms flat against steve’s chest, eddie drops his voice low, “yeah, yeah you can. because then i can say i like you back.”

turns out steve’s plan had worked, just not in the way he expected. but nothing with eddie ends up how steve expected, and that’s just one addition to the list of things he loves about him. that list will grow longer as the years pass, a never-ending record of things to love.

steve’ll apologize for the whole mind game thing later, but for now, he simply rests his hands over eddie’s, and tips his head forward until their foreheads touch. he whispers, “hey, eddie. i really like you. let me take you on a date sometime?”

and eddie whispers back, “hey, stevie. i like you a hell of a lot too. and yeah, obviously - thanks for finally asking.”

[ghostselena]

Locked in for Love

Pairing: Jj Maybank x Reader

Summary: Getting locked inside the chateau by the other pogues to make you both confess your feelings to one another.

Warnings: it's cheesy fluff, slight mention of sex towards the end! 18+

1.2k words

please do not post this anywhere without permission, thank you!

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As the day wears on, you notice that your friends seem to be acting a bit strange. They keep giving you and JJ known looks, whispering to each other, and giggling behind their hands.

"What's going on?" you ask, feeling a bit confused.

"We're all just hanging out, having fun," John B says with a sly grin, beer in hand as the group relaxes back onto the small swing you all struggled to install earlier.

But you know there's something more to it than that. You can feel it in the air like there's a secret that everyone is in on except for you and JJ.

Eventually, the sun begins to set, and you start to pack up your things to head home. Your parents would kill you if you got came home late one more time, and you swore it would never happen again. But, before you can leave, the Pogues lock you and JJ inside his spare room.

With a quick turn you walk to the door and grip the handle, "Uhh guys, what's going on?" you demand, rattling the door handle.

"We're not letting you out until you both confess your feelings to each other," Sarah yells from the other side of the door, grinning from ear to ear.

You feel your face flush with embarrassment, and you glance over at JJ, who looks just as shocked as you. He was just trying to help you pack your things faster.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you stammer, letting go of the door and giving up, knowing it was no use.

But the Pogues aren't buying it. They start to chant "confess, confess, confess," and you can feel your heart racing in your chest.

fucking shit.

Your eyes locked with Jj's and he returns a small smile before talking.

“They locked us in here pretty good, huh?” He smiled over at you, walking over to you and leaning back against the wall next to you, arms crossed.

You let out a laugh, stretching your arms forward nervously, “I guess so” You grin, playing with your fingers nervously, avoiding his eyes with tinted cheeks.

You both start to laugh nervously, and you realize that maybe the Pogues have a point. Maybe there is something between you and JJ, something that you've both been too afraid to acknowledge.

His eyes met yours again and he smiled, "I guess I'll come clean then," he starts, slowly grabbing your hands in his, "I've had a crush on you for the longest time, shit, ever since you splashed your drink on me," he laughs, remembering the night so vividly.

You blushed in embarrassment and looked away, "it was an accident!" you quickly remind him, biting your lip as you prayed the floor would just open a hole and swallow you whole.

It was the night of the Midsummer's party, and JJ was looking his best in his tuxedo. He arrived, ready to get his friends to leave the party but they were a bit too tipsy to pay him any attention.

As he was making his way across the crowded dance floor, he suddenly felt something cold splash onto his jacket. He turned to see a beautiful girl with a sheepish look on her face. She apologized profusely, but JJ just laughed it off and told her it was no big deal.

You had just been introduced to the group by Sarah, and it was your first time meeting them all there, except from a now-soaked JJ who surely had met you in the worse circumstances. And as ashamed as you were for spilling your drink on him, you were slightly drunk. Without knowing, you had caught the attention of the boy, and yeah, he tried to play it cool, talking to other people and having a good time, but he found himself constantly glancing over at you throughout the night.

You both ended up bumping into each other several times, each time exchanging a few words and a smile.

"Still haven't washed that old ass tuxedo, I stole it from the thrift store," he whispers at the last part, winking down at you as he tried to lighten up the mood, "And I know we're friends and all, but I just had to tell you."

Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest, the words leaving his lips sounded like a dream," I've chickened out too many times, but I'll come clean and confess that I've had the biggest crush on you for the longest," you quickly let out, feeling his arms wrap themselves around your waist.

He couldn't resist teasing you a little more. "So, are you finally going to admit that I'm the coolest guy you know?" he looks back down at you, your face now close to his as you looked up at him, "I mean, I guess..." you tease back at him, feeling his body vibrate as he chuckled," fair enough."

You were both quiet for a moment, just taking it all in. A huge weight has been lifted off of both of your shoulders. His hand had slid its way up to your chin, holding it softly, "Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyes sparkled with anticipation. "Please."

JJ leaned in slowly, savoring the moment. He placed his hands against your hair, pulling you closer. Your lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss that quickly turned into something more. He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue against your bottom lip as he hoped you'd let him in. With a smile, you pressed yourself closer and let him explore your mouth with his tongue. He felt like he was floating, nothing else mattered to him at that moment. This was where he was meant to be, with the girl he's been crushing on.

He lost himself in the sensation of your lips on his. He tasted the sweetness of your mouth and felt your soft body against his. He could feel the heat building between the two of you, and he wanted more, had there not been others on the other side of that door.

With a soft whine, he pressed a shorter kiss against your lips, cupping your cheeks in his hand as he pulled away from you, forehead pressing against yours, "You're fucking amazing."

Before you could even speak, the door broke open and the sound of cheers ran into the room, "Fucking finally!" Kie yelled, tackling you into her arms as she pulled you from the grasp of the blonde boy, who quickly pulled you back towards him," Seriously guys?"

"You guys had us stressed the fuck out, it had to be done," John B laughs, pointing at the two of you with his hands, "Clearly, it worked."

Jj's eyes met yours once again, a wink following right after before he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, pushing out his friends with one hand

"Gross." was the last mumble you heard before he locked the door back up and pressed your back against it, ready to ruin your makeup and show you what you've been missing.

--

Taglist: (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed, or if you changed your username!)

@maybankslover @phildunphyisadilf @ailee-celeste @onmykneesforrafe @rafesrings @unbelievablystillafangirl @fashphotolife @rootbeerfaygo @ishipit1420 @babeyglo@georgiaxxxx @stevesmixtape @cityofidek @tenaciousperfectionunknown

[stardustprompts]

house of ashes  -  the dark pictures anthology  sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying     tw ;  language ,  war ,  death ,  drug mention ,  religion mention 

‘I don’t know where i’d be without you.’ 

‘don’t you think it’s about time you came clean?’ 

‘all’s fair in love and war.’ 

‘I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.’ 

‘with all due respect, I think that’s the wrong call.’ 

‘quit being a bitch!’

‘I’ve got a real bad feeling about this.’

‘I wish you’d reconsider.’ 

‘it’s been a long time since we last saw each other.’ 

‘not a day went by when you weren’t on my mind.’ 

‘I’ve missed you so much, (name).’

‘how we left it ... things weren’t so great between us.’

‘we’ve been through worse. a lot worse.’ 

‘I wish I shared your optimism.’ 

‘you wanna ask me something. I can tell by the look on your face.’

‘you’re fucking with me.’

‘you got any other surprises you wanna drop on me?’

‘that’s gotta be about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.’

‘I don’t know about you guys but something doesn’t feel right about this place.’

‘so is that this women’s intuition I keep hearing about?’

‘I don’t believe in curses, the tooth fairy, or santa clause.’

‘fuck. we’re so fucked.’ 

‘I won’t do it. this is not right.’

‘stay the hell away from me.’

‘you better not miss.’

‘you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.’ 

‘I fucking knew it. I knew you weren’t ready for this.’ 

‘you didn’t see shit!’ 

‘I flunked history at school.’ 

‘tell me you don’t feel something...’

‘I don’t feel shit.’

‘we need to get out of here right now!’

‘you want the good version or the bad version?’

‘what the hell are you? what do you want from me?’

‘are you okay? are you hurt?’

‘I’m pretty good at looking after myself.’

‘I guess we could classify this as ‘quality time’.’

‘doesn’t this remind you of old times, (name)?’

‘maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.’ 

‘after you left, I learned to deal with pressure.’ 

‘do you not watch horror movies?’

‘you didn’t hear that?’

‘I didn’t hear anything.’ 

‘you can’t blame yourself.’

‘we’ve both made mistakes.’

‘I didn’t make it easy on you, (name). I know that.’ 

‘I don’t think either of us expected to be out of each other’s lives for so long.’

‘I’ve missed you, like you wouldn’t believe.’   

‘maybe there’s hope for us after all.’ 

‘there you go, reading my mind again.’ 

‘you always were a good guy. maybe too good for me.’ 

‘I want you back, (name).’ 

‘we were pretty damn good together.’ 

‘I know you better than you think, (name).’

‘admit it, there’s someone else, isn’t there?’

‘give ‘em hell, buddy.’

‘you gotta stop struggling!’

‘do you believe in god?’

‘you wouldn’t believe me even if I tried. hell, I don’t believe and I was there.’ 

‘come on, you’re jumping at shadows!’ 

‘whatever you think you’ve seen, it’s bullshit.’ 

‘take a mental picture and snap the fuck out of it!’

‘you got us into this mess, you better get us out.’

‘you wanna repeat that? that’s what I thought.’ 

‘I’m not sure of anything anymore.’

‘in battle, these things are often difficult to judge.’ 

‘are you on fucking drugs?!’

‘we’ve lost enough today.’ 

‘we can get through this, but only together.’

‘I’ve seen their weakness. they burn in sunlight.’ 

‘like any living being, they can be killed. a stake through the heart.’ 

‘we do this together, okay?’

‘what the fuck are we up against?’

‘never before have I ever seen anything so vicious.’

‘do you believe in demons?’ 

‘if you had asked me that before, I’d have laughed in your face.’

‘like you, I also never believed. but look around you.’ 

‘I don’t want to hurt you!’

‘there’s no point in fighting. not anymore.’ 

‘after all we’ve been through? thanks a lot!’

‘we fought it together and we won.’ 

‘I hope you’re a believer. when those things come back, you’re going to need a higher power to pray to.’ 

‘if I gotta fight these things, there’s no one else I would want by my side.’ 

‘cut the bullshit, (name). I know you and I know you care.’ 

‘trust me, you wanna get that shit out in the open.’

‘why is it that no one ever tells it straight? everyone just makes up bullshit to get by.’ 

‘if we die down here? maybe that’s what we deserve.’ 

‘‘fuck’ doesn’t even start to cover it.’

‘there’s no such thing as luck.’

‘do you mind?’

‘I’m glad you’re here.’

‘how did I know you were going to say that?’ 

‘gee, thanks, (name). you ever think about going into motivational speaking?’ 

‘that’s gotta be about the dumbest question I have ever been asked.’ 

‘I guess I just wanted to let go. you know, be someone new.’

‘you think it bothers me what they call me? i wear that shit like a fucking badge of honor.’ 

‘you and I... we’re not so different.’ 

‘please. please don’t leave me down here alone.’ 

‘don’t quit on me now!’ 

‘truth is so overrated.’ 

‘if you turn, it won’t be you I’m killing.’ 

‘I know you can do it, (name). you just have to have hope!’

‘you’re screwed enough as it is! if you stay with me, there’s no hope for you at all.’

‘(name) could lose his own ass if it wasn’t pinned on him.’

‘embrace the suck.’ 

‘you follow me, or you stay here and rot.’ 

‘it’s good to see you, (name). I thought we lost you.’ 

‘that’s not (name) anymore.’ 

‘you worthless pile of shit!’

‘the enemy of the enemy is our friend!’ 

‘well this looks like the worst place in the goddamn world.’ 

‘I don’t mean you any harm. I swear.’ 

‘honestly? I’m just glad to see a human face.’

‘my father once told me that if something looks like shit, and it smells like shit, you don’t have to taste it to know that it’s shit!’ 

‘I think you need to give your mouth a rest.’ 

‘every time you say something smart, you follow it with something dumb.’ 

‘hope is all we got left.’

‘funny how you can know someone for years and never really know them.’ 

‘a time will come when you will deeply regret this manner.’

‘I don’t carry regrets.’ 

‘it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.’ 

‘not exactly honeymoon material, is it?’

‘my sole objective, (name), is to make you happy. doesn’t matter where we are or what we’re going through, I’ll always put a smile on your face.’

‘I thought I lost you!’

‘thanks for looking out for me.’ 

‘I can’t pretend like this didn’t happen.’ 

‘I still love you, (name).’

‘I knew you would always be there for me.’ 

‘I wanna try us again.’

‘I can’t turn my back on my past.’ 

‘if I didn’t give you a chance, I’d always regret it.’

‘you fucking deserve each other.’

‘I can’t end up like this.’ 

‘we are being judged. god is punishing us all for the mistakes we’ve made.’

‘we all have our reasons, they don’t have to be profound.’ 

‘I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing here.’ 

‘I can hear you thinking.’ 

‘start believing, (name). we’re gonna get out of here and see the sun again.’ 

‘we’ll stand together. it’s the only way.’ 

‘in this place, everything’s possible.’

‘I thought you were dead.’

‘keep your head clear of everything but the task ahead. it’s the only way we’ll live.’ 

‘secrets keep you sick.’ 

‘if you need me, I’m here for you.’ 

‘I’ll always love you.’ 

‘you’ve come to join the fun.’

‘we’re not out of the woods yet. but what I see in front of me, you’re the best. fuck that, the best of the best.’

‘there’s too many of them!’

‘it’s been interesting knowing you.’

‘you’re late and you look like shit.’

‘I’m going to make sure those things stay buried in that hellhole where they belong!’

‘I’ll have to live with that.’ 

‘I learned not to rely on anyone but myself. I was stronger than all of them.’ 

‘I’ll never get used to this job.’ 

[stitchdfox]

Cross posting from my Twitter fan account!

Eddie’s on Tour pt 1

Eddie can’t remember the last time he tapped out first from a night of celebrating with the band post show. Sure, they were only on the third show of the tour they, by some miracle, booked to open for A Day To Remember. It felt like a fever dream.

His head was swimming with excitement from the exposure of playing with a legit band. They had only ever played at local bars like the Hide Out and that one time they played Battle of the Bands in Indy. It’s crazy the last show of tour will be at the House of Blues in Chicago.

Eddie had to figure out a way to make it through the tour without vibrating out of his skin.

So, here he was, half drunk and spiraling in the van. Thanks to his favorite crop top his back stuck to the vinyl of the middle bench he deemed the best place to suffer.

“Goddamnit,“ he sighs as he shoves his hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He opens his contacts and selects /Uncle/ and clicks the speaker icon before dropping the phone on his chest.

As it rings Eddie realizes how late it must be in Indiana and thinks about just ending the call when—

“Hellooo?” The voice says on the other end.

“You’re not Wayne” he sputters out.

“You’re right.” The voice is deep but sweet somehow.

“Why are you on my uncle’s phone?” Eddie is so confused.

“I’m not, actually.”

“Shit.”

Wayne had a new number from when he moved out of the old trailer.

“I’m an idiot,” Eddie whispers. The new number was under /Wayne/. He’d have to write the old man, like he promised, and tell him about the mix up. He’ll find it funny—

“You okay over there, stranger?” The voice asked.

Eddie had gone silent, lost in his thoughts.

“That’s a loaded question, sweetheart.” Eddie drummed his fingers on his bare midriff.

“That’s fair. Why don’t you start with why you were calling Wayne?” The man on the other end of the phone urged him on.

“Why the hell not?” Eddie hums. “I guess, I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“Hmm.” There’s a sudden clatter of dishes. “Shit.”

“You okay over there?” Eddie holds in a laugh.

“Fine. It’s fine.”

“Are you doing dishes? Oh my god. I’ve called a complete stranger and I’ve interrupted his chores. You were probably busy cleaning up after you made dinner for you and your lady friend. She’s patiently waiting for you to join her for the movie you settled on but you’re that weirdo that insists on doing the dishes right away.” Eddie rubs his hands down his face.

A sharp laugh comes through the phone. “You think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?”

“Hardly.” Eddie sighs. “Look man, I’m sorry I interrupted. I’ll let you go.”

“Wait.” The response was quick and Eddie could swear there was a pinch of desperation. The man continues. “I mean… uh. I don’t mind. See I just… um. I wouldn’t mind the company is all I’m saying.”

Eddie couldn’t help the stupid grin on his face anymore than the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

“Well then… Hi.”

“Hi.” The man chuckles on the other end. “Wanna tell me why you’re overwhelmed then?”

“It’s kind of a long story.” Eddie isn’t sure he’s ready to dive into this deep rooted fear of failure with a complete stranger. Nice enough as he seems, it would be weird, right?

“I’ve got the time.”

There’s silence from both of them for a three count.

“Fine. I’m in a band.” Eddie pauses.

The man on the other end hums.

“We have only really played dive bars and Battle of the Bands type shit before, right? And I’m convinced one of the other guys made a deal with the devil to get us here, touring as the openers for one of our favorite bands. We’re three days into this tour and I can’t even enjoy it because I’m waiting for the fallout or to wake up from this dream and I can’t stop wondering when they’re gonna pull the rug out from under us. You know?”

“Sounds like you don’t see how amazing you really are then.” The man’s voice is so soothing, motherly almost. “Clearly this favorite band of yours saw something in you. They probably started out just the way you did. Give yourself some credit here, man.”

Eddie swallows back tears. “You don’t even know me though. I’m the freak, the fuck up. I…” he sighs. “Why do they think I can do this?”

“I dunno. It’s not just you though. You’ve got your bandmates with you. Don’t you believe in them?”

“Of course!”

“Don’t you trust them?” The man asks.

“With my life.”

“Then reel it in a bit. I’m sure they need you as much as you need them right now.” The man’s tone goes low. “Trust it.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Oh, I know I’m right.” There’s a smile in the man’s voice.

“Cocky, cocky. Wish I had your confidence.” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Shit. I’ve got call.

“I can let you go, man.” Eddie couldn’t mask his disappointment in letting the stranger off the line.

“No! No. Sorry. It’ll be a quick call. I’ll be back.” There’s a lull. “I promise.”

The phone beeps and Eddie is left with a faint static sound and his buzzing thoughts. This is absolutely not where he thought he’d be after the show tonight. There’s something about being on stage and the confidence he has in himself when he’s performing, but the second the lights go down and their gear is packed up, he feels like an imposter. Maybe the stranger was right, maybe he just can’t see what everyone else does. Maybe–

“You still there?” The man comes back on the line.

“Yeah. I– Still here.” Eddie covers his face, embarrassed.

“My friend needs a ride and I’m the designated driver it seems. I gotta go, but I…” there’s a soft huff, Eddie can almost feel the warmth of the breath, “I’d like to chat again. I mean, uh, if you’d like to. I figure the tour could get lonely? But now that I say that I realize you have so much happening and so many people there and fans to meet and this is probably dumb and–”

“Hey now. I’m the one that’s supposed to be spiraling tonight. You can spiral the next time, okay?” Eddie chuckles.

“Next time?” The hopeful sound of the man’s voice was all Eddie needed.

“Yes, sweetheart.” Eddie coos. “Next time.”

“I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Eddie.”

“Can’t wait. I’ll talk to you soon, Eddie.”

The line dies before Eddie can make a bigger fool of himself.

There’s a ruckus outside and he jumps as the rest of the band topple into the van.

“Are we sleeping in the parking lot tonight, fellas?” Eddie asks.

They all grumble. —

Part 2 on the way. You can catch up on Twitter if you’re impatient enough. Ha!

[cadencejames87]

Facials and First Impressions

Pairing: Sebastian x reader

Word Count: 693

Warnings: Talk of Facials, honestly I don’t know what this is, it has been sitting in my drafts for some time now and I just did a quick edit.

*Not beta’d, thus any and all mistakes are my own*

Sebastian casts his party playlist onto the television and pockets his cell phone as he turns to wash the dishes you both made while cooking dinner and putting together appetizers.

Toby grazes happily with a drink in hand. "You ever have one of those?"

"You know there is no scientific evidence that proves it's good for your skin, right?" You continue to put the finishing touches on a charcuterie board that Toby insists on consuming.

"No way, they totally do that shit at spas," he argues, tossing a grape into his mouth. Sebastian shakes his head and laughs as he dries his hands, leaning back against the counter. Toby gives his longtime friend a shrug. "I mean, I’m asking for her honest opinion on the matter."

"Who would pay for that?" Seb asks him.

"That’s what I’m saying," he extends the last word as if to add emphasis. "I give my girl one for free every night," Toby burst into hysterics.

"Every night?" You question with doubt.

"The only thing Toby gives his girl every night is a migraine." Penn jests as he returns from the fire escape after a business call pulled him away.

"Hardy har, buddy." Penn pats Toby on the shoulder and holds up his glass. The two men tap their glasses together and make up.

You clean up a few items from the kitchen island and place them into the fridge. "You seriously want your girl to walk around the house with your product on her face?"

"I’m no expert on how it’s done. And it's not like she needs to tell me. I heard some women even refrigerate it."

You glance over at Sebastian, now pouring wine into a pair of matching glasses. "No expert, huh, says the guy who apparently does it every night." You look back at Toby. "Like you are really going to finish and go about your day or get ready for bed or whatever the hell it is you do at whatever time of day this happens while your girlfriend lets it dry? She’ll be pouring you a cup of coffee, and your immediate reaction to seeing her with a mask made from your special serum would be to tell her to wash that shit off as it flakes and falls into your mug a la Mrs. Doubtfire."

Sebastian and Penn laugh at your point. "I guess when you put it that way, it does sound disgusting."

"Which part? Your girl caking on the jizz as a part of her skincare routine or drinking your own semen?" Penn asks and has everyone turn to Toby for the answer.

"All right, well, skin care facials are out. But, are you telling me you would never let Sebastian give you a good old-fashioned facial?"

Sebastian glares at Toby in a warning. His friend is walking a thin line with his girl. "Hey--" He shakes his head, brows furrowed.

"Way to not answer the question, Tobes. I’m just saying, if my man wants to give me a facial, I’m not gonna be one of those girls who rubs it into their face like moisturizer and walk around like an idiot when he does." Sebastian hands you a glass of wine, and you take a sip. "I tell you one thing, I would much rather swallow than waste a drop." You smirk at Sebastian as he nearly chokes on his wine and turns a bright shade of red. "However, if it is something he really wants to try," you shrug as you turn back to Penn and Toby. "I’ll close my eyes and pray for the best."

Sebastian wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck. "Bad girl," he whispers for only you to hear.

Toby raises his drink as Sebastian looks up. "She’s a keeper," he winks.

"I guess that means I passed the best friend test." You giggle, taking another sip of your wine.

Sebastian trails kisses from your neck to your shoulder and raises his glass to salute his friend as you turn your head. He kisses your lips, and the glasses ring out. "You pass all the tests, Draga. Toby, on the other hand, needs a lesson in first impressions.

[currentlyfckingurmom]

Her Song part 8

"Don't be, Momma. I was just about to tell Scarlett and Florence how you're a stripper!" Oh god.

Scarlett and Florence abruptly look at me wide-eyed, and I laugh nervously. "I'm not- she doesn't even know what a stripper is."

"Yes I do. A stripper is a person who acts or dances in a seductive manner and gradually removes their clothing piece by piece, especially to the accompaniment of music. I looked it up," Syd states with a shrug.

"Oh god," I mumble to myself. "I'm not a stripper. I just, um..." I look to Ash for help, but she looks like she's about to piss herself laughing.

"Syd just means that...yeah, I got nothing. Sorry boss," Ash fails to give an excuse.

Sighing, I say "I was a stripper. I am not anymore." They nod, and Florence briefly rakes her eyes down my body, raising an eyebrow and smirking slightly. What the fuck. "Not that there's any shame in being a stripper," I quickly add. Maybe a little too quickly.

It gets uncomfortably quiet very fast, but luckily Ash 'saves' it. "Yeah, it just means that Y/N is very good with a pole. And lap dances." I slap my hand against my face and pray for someone to please make it stop. "Actually, I'm sure she'd be willing to show you guys," Ash adds.

"No, no I wouldn't. I mean I wouldn't be opposed to it, but I- no I'm not going to show you," I ramble, making it so much worse.

"What a shame, I'm sure Flo would love a demonstration," Scarlett says, smirking.

Florence blushes vibrantly and stumbles over her words, quickly averting her eyes from mine.

"Momma, are you sure they aren't your girlfriends?"

"Sydney, I swear to god I am going to sell you if you don't stop," I warn her, feeling like I am going to cry from embarrassment.

"Aw, don't sell her. She brings in nice tips," Ash says.

"Yeah, Mom. I bring in nice tips," the demon child sasses, blowing a raspberry at me.

"As...interesting as this has been, we should really get going," Scarlett says, trying not to laugh.

"Yes, but I'll see you tomorrow," Florence adds, looking directly at me. I smile lightly and nod, waving goodbye as they get up and leave.

Once they're gone, I groan loudly and drop my head against the counter. Syd scooches across the counter and lays her head on top of mine, mumbling "Sorry, Momma. Didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't upset me, baby. I'm just...some parts of my past are better kept private, okay?"

"Okay."

"That was funny as shit though," Ash snorts, bursting out in laughter.

"Ash said shit!" Syd yells.

"So did you!" I yell back.

Chaos. My life is chaos.

Later that night, around eight o'clock, Ash is long gone and Syd is asleep in front of the TV while I clean up. I don't expect to get anymore customers tonight, but the bell above the door rings. I look up, and Florence is walking in, briefly looking over to Syd before shooting me a crooked smile and asking "Can we talk?"

"Yeah, of course," I say with furrowed eyebrows, motioning for her to sit next to me at the counter. She sits down and I ask "What's up?"

"Um, I just wanna apologize for earlier. I know that it was none of our business, and you probably didn't want us to know all that-"

"Flo," I cut her off, laughing. "It doesn't bother me, really. Sometimes kids just talk a lot. It's no big deal. I mean, my past employment is not exactly something I advertise, but I'm not really ashamed of it, either. I did what I had to do to support my kid. And it got me here, so..."

"Do you mind me asking why, uh, why you-"

"Why I danced for horny men?" I finish for her. "Syd is...I love her with all my heart and she's the best thing that's ever happened to me, but I didn't- I didn't exactly conceive her willingly. Then I was on my own at sixteen years old, so I moved here and worked at a small diner until she was about two months old. I just didn't have enough money, so I walked into a club and they hired me at seventeen. I did dance most of my childhood, so I guess it was just a good fit. I got better at it, and two years later I had enough money to quit and open this place up," I explain, gesturing to the shop around us.

"That's..." Florence swallows thickly and looks down at the counter. "I'm really sorry you had to deal with all that on your own."

"I'm not," I say with a smile, looking over at Syd. "I do the best I can, and I may not be the best mother, but I've done everything I can for that girl. I just want her to be happy, and I've gotten us to a good place."

"That's amazing, Y/N. Truly." I smile and blink away the tears that had misted over my eyes, holding eye contact with Florence. She looks down at my lips, her breath catching in her throat before she turns away from me.

"So you've made up with your dad since then?" she asks. I send her a questioning look and she says, "You were talking to him on the phone earlier."

"Oh...yeah, I guess," I answer shortly. As much as I like Florence, I don't know her well enough to get into all of that.

"Right, well, I should head home. It's getting late."

"Hey, wait, are you walking home?" I ask.

"Yes, why?"

"Let me give you a ride. It's not safe to walk alone at night."

"I can just call an Uber."

"Don't be ridiculous. We won't get any more customers tonight, anyway," I state, standing up to get Syd. She's sound asleep, and her face is scrunched up the way it does when she has a headache, so I just pick her up instead of waking her.

I carry her to the doors and gesture with my head for Florence to follow, turning out the lights and locking the doors. "It's the blue Subaru," I tell Florence, pointing to the 2018 WRX parked on the street. I buckle Syd up and hop in the front. Florence gives me directions as I drive, and we quickly arrive at her apartment complex.

"Thank you for driving me, Y/N. You're very sweet."

"Anytime, Florence."

She leans over, kissing my cheek before getting out of the car and walking inside the building. I can feel myself blushing and internally scold myself. Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend. She. Has. A. Boyfriend.

"Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls comes on the radio and I scoff, glaring at the stereo system. "Don't mock me."

~

"And I'd give up forever to touch you 'cause I know that you'd feel me somehow. You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be and I don't wanna go home right now."

[watermeloncholycucumbersome]

Day 108 of Writing Something Everyday

(365 Day Challenge)

I feel like I'm doing way too much today yet there's still a part of me thinking I'm the laziest pos on the face of the planet.

I hope I can get out of this funk..

Church lady is denying another girl access to me so she can get items I offered to her to send away to her family in the Philippines.

Apparently that's unacceptable and I can't help or talk to ANYONE unless it's through her. Gross, disturbed behaviour for a 70 something year old woman.

Shame on her..

I just added a bunch of stuff on facebook marketplace to sell today, I'm sick of waiting for help.

I'm never going to get it at this rate. I'm dragging these big pieces of furniture around by myself, trying to sell everything I own. I'm made feel like mine and my mom's personal items are worthless because I can't barely get anyone to come get anything or inquire even. Some of her stuff was lots of money and me asking 10 for a 20 dollar item and so on should be great, but it's not.

It's so hard to clean all this up by myself and store things for people who may or may not come when they say they will or ever.

But you have no choice, you need the money. So you live on a whim of hopefully they respond or show up.

I'm in this get rid of everything mentality and I think it's a good thing. I feel like shits going to hit the fan at some point here and I might be forced to leave my apartment. Last thing I want is a bunch of bags/boxes of garbage to drag around with me, you know?

Less is better in the long run. Only keep what's important, the rest is unimportant.

If I don't hurry up I overthink too much and it gets overwhelming, so throwing stuff out on these days is great because you finally get it done. It just sucks that I finally get the energy to get up and accomplish something. Especially going through my mom's dresser as I just about lost my mind the last few times I went near it. I finally did it and this woman won't drive this young girl a few minutes to pick up a small bag from me because I told her I didn't want her signing me up for programmes at church that I wasn't even aware of I was being signed up for?

How is that fair?

What did the young girl do?

How is this a Christian woman??

Making a young girl suffer because she wants to punish me?

Wretched horrible woman..

Sad part is this will hurt me more because these are people who have been kind to me and she's hurting them now to get back at me because she's a baby and has unresolved issues that she needs to stop putting on others.

Grow up and take responsibility..

Why does a 31 year old woman have to teach her elders common sense and decency?

I guess these bags just sit here tonight then, but I guess I cleared out mine and my mom's dressers today so that's good - still sucks though.

What is wrong with this world, ugh...

I have to clean this apartment up and get this room set up so I can advertise I need a roommate. I have nobody helping with this, everyone talks a big talk until something really has to be done and you see their true colours. I've asked everyone church wise and even at my apartment building - guys want sexual favours and the women are either older or crippled. I literally contacted a random dude on Facebook for help and

Every

Single

One

Of

Them

Agree

Then

Make

An

Excuse

Last

Minute

Nobody follows through so I guess it's just me literally on my own now, so much for if you need me call me. Nobody responds to me any way.

Kinda scary thinking about a stranger living in your house with you to be honest, but I have no choice.

All of this will be done because I figure it out and do it though, I don't have any hope help is coming in the form of people any longer.

~Jenni

[fizzseed]

hey fizz !!! for the ficlet prompts : do i wanna know and byler (literally Look At My Blog Title lmfao did u expect anything less?)

have you ever thought of callin’, darlin’? / the nights were mainly made for sayin’ things that you can’t say tomorrow day.

do i wanna know? — arctic monkeys for @willelfanpage

Mike still keeps his walkie on his side table. He didn’t take it with him to California, but it was right there when he returned, even though his mom went through his room to clean it up, even though the earth cracked open under everyone’s feet. 

He keeps the antenna extended permanently these days, just in case of a code red. There’s a pack of batteries in his bedside drawer, too, ever since Dustin gave them to him after the whole Starcourt fiasco. 

Never again, Dustin had said solemnly.

Mike wishes they’d had the same foresight about tapes and Walkmans during their Upside Down mission. 

Since the disaster, things have settled into an odd kind of normalcy. He and El broke up, Max is still in the Hospital, Lucas still sits by her side most of the time, Dustin spends his days in Hawkins High’s gymnasium trying to distract himself from Eddie’s death. 

Mike tries very hard not to think about any of it. 

It doesn’t really work.

He picks up the Walkie, dials in the frequency out of sheer habit, away from the Party’s decided wavelength for some privacy. 

“Hey, Will,” he sighs into the static of the receiver. “I know you’re out of range, so, whatever, but…”

He scoffs at himself. This habit he’s formed, of talking to Will without actually talking to him, probably isn’t healthy. But he never went to see Ms. Kelley, so— jury’s still out.

“There’s so much going on. And I feel like,” Mike hesitates. “Whatever, it doesn’t really matter what I feel, but— I can’t keep up. It’s like… for the first time in my life I don’t have a plan. I don’t know how to fix this. Max is… not waking up, and El thinks it’s her fault and I was fucking lying to her, but she knows. She knows. She’s known for longer than I have.”

He laughs, the sound absent of the joy it should contain.

“Whatever. She’s a better person than I’ll ever be, so she let me off the hook.”

He pauses, stares down at his wrinkled bedsheets, notices a stain on his tank top that he picks at. The white noise of the walkie is comforting, a reminder of simpler times even as red clouds glow in the distance of the 2AM sky. 

“And… I miss you,” he confesses quietly. “I know I messed up last summer. I promise I didn’t mean to, I was just… messing around, I guess. And I know it was a dick move, now. And I never apologized, not to your face. Because by the time we found you, the Mind Flayer was active again, and then shit went down and then…”

Mike sighs.

“Then I was too much of a coward to say anything. For three months. And then… then you fucking moved to California and shit got even weirder. And now— now it’s the fucking apocalypse. And I miss you. I kinda wish you never moved.”

Mike drags his thumb over the stain. It won’t come out. Now, he’s just pressing old chocolate syrup or ketchup or whatever it is into the fabric. 

“You know, the week before I walked around hoping that Lenora would, like, explode or something.” He laughs again. “Just so you’d have to stay. And I know that’s selfish, because Lenora was good for you guys, what without all the Upside Down shit.

“But Hawkins isn’t the same without you. I’m not the same without you. You’re— you’re still the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

“Do you remember that? When we were trying to get the Mind Flayer — Vecna now, I guess — out of you? When you tapped the morse code into the chair?”

Mike smiles at the memory. “I told you asking you to be my friend was the best thing I’ve ever done. And you broke out of his hold, and I was so proud of you.”

He drops the walkie into his lap, letting go of the button. 

“Over and out,” he mumbles to himself. 

Back when he could still do something. Other than be a shitty boyfriend and a bad friend, that is. 

The walkie crackles to life in his lap, and he startles wildly, dislodging it enough to send it clattering to the floor. For a while, there’s just silence on the line, and Mike picks it up warily, halfway through a million disaster plans of what to do if he’s getting a call from the Upside Down. 

The line crackles again, and then:

“I remember.”

Mike chokes on his own spit, trying desperately to keep his coughs quiet enough that he can still hear what Will is saying. 

“Everything else is kinda blurry,” Will says, “but you, talking about the swingset? I remember all of it. Saying ‘yes’ was the best thing I ever did.”

Mike presses on the talk-button. “Will?”

“Yeah, Mike?”

He doesn’t need to ask if he’s real. Mike knows. “Why… why were you tuned to this frequency?”

A beat of silence. “I guess it was the last one I was on.”

He doesn’t say anything else. Mike feels the blood rushing in his veins. So Will heard everything he said. He tries to figure out a way to recover from this embarrassment, to make Will forget he ever said anything. He could just ask. Hey, Will, can you forget that I was spilling my absolute guts on our separate frequency and talking to you even though I thought you couldn’t hear me? 

“You played Should I Stay or Should I Go, right?” Will asks suddenly. 

Mike laughs to himself, presses to talk. “Yeah, yeah we did. It was Jonathan’s idea.”

He catches the tail end of Will’s laugh over the line. “Of course it was.”

Mike smiles. They sit quietly for a bit, long enough that Mike thinks Will has gone to sleep. It’s the reasonable thing to do in the middle of the night, way more sane than dumping your emotions into a walkie-talkie. 

“Mike, are you still there? Over.”

“M’still here,” Mike says quietly.

“You don’t have to fix this alone, you know?” Mike frowns. “It’s— it’s like you said. We’re better as a team. We can fix it together.”

Mike doesn’t really know what to say to that, but he promised Will that they’d do just that, that they’d be best friends again. He wants it so bad. More than he’s wanted anything ever, probably. To go back to normalcy, with Will at his side. So he says:

“Yeah, okay.” He lets himself fall back onto the bed and a shiver runs down his spine as his cold mattress makes contact with his spine. “I’m— gonna go to bed, now.”

“Okay,” Will says, voice small. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Mike answers. “Over and out.”

He lets the antenna stay extended as he places the walkie back on his side table and wraps himself in his comforter.

“Over and out,” Will’s voice washes over him, and then the static over the line breaks. 

[meadowmines]

OC-Tober Day 3: Control

[In which Aoyagi's boss catches him Dealing With Shit in a way that is... not the unhealthiest, but still concerning enough to rate a talking-to.]

"Whatcha doin'?"

It's the same tone of voice you'd use when your four-year-old has been quiet for way too long and you find them fingerpainting the dog. Best not to ask how Aoyagi knows that.

"Scrubbin' the floor," he says, without looking up, like it's obvious. Like it's not three in the morning and the floor he's scrubbing isn't in the Majima Family office bathroom. Like this is a normal thing normal people do at three in the morning. No, Aoyagi might not be an official family man but he's a close enough "friend of the family" that him hanging out here isn't weird. Even if it's three in the morning and the "hanging out" he's doing is aggressively deep cleaning the place.

"Ain't ya got a floor at home?"

"Already scrubbed it."

"Ain't ya got a floor at the cafe?"

"The boys scrubbed it at closing time."

"Huh."

Aoyagi thinks, for a hot second, that's the end of the interrogation. He should know better. He does know better. He doesn't look up. He doesn't have to look up to know what's coming. Those shiny steel-toed shoes, heels clicking across the parts of the floor Aoyagi hasn't scrubbed yet. The creak of leather as Majima-san hunkers down just outside the boundary of his personal space.

"Ya don't drink. Ya don't smoke. Ya don't gamble, other than yer shogi hustlin' shit ya probably think I ain't heard about." Goddammit, nothing gets past him, does it? "And personally, I don't count it as gamblin' if ya know yer gonna win, so there. Ya don't piss all yer money away on fancy shit ya don't need. Ya don't stay out all night manwhorin' it up. The only white powder ya ever get into is flour." Snakeskin and black leather sneak into Aoyagi's carefully cultivated tunnel vision and the scrub brush is ever so gently removed from his hand. "Guess there's worse shit to end up hooked on than scrubbin' the floor at fuckall o'clock in the mornin'. Or do ya think I ain't noticed how much cleaner this place is lately?"

Shit.

"Hey. Get up off the floor n' leave some shit for my boys to scrub in the mornin', huh?"

It's not an order. Again, "friend of the family," Majima-san is only Aoyagi's boss in the sense that he owns the cafe (for now at least, but never mind that). But as far as Aoyagi is concerned, any request that comes from him may as well be a command from the gods themselves. As much as he hates to leave a job half-finished, Aoyagi huffs out a sigh and stands up.

---

"I get it, y'know."

They're sitting out in the main room. Zombie movie on the TV. Beer on a coaster in front of Majima-san. Canned coffee on a coaster in front of Aoyagi.

"Ya go that long not havin' a damn bit of say in anything that's happenin' to ya... course the second it sinks in yer free, yer gonna latch onto the first thing ya see that gives ya some control back." There's the scratch-click of a lighter. The smell of cigarette smoke. "And bein' clean's about the easiest one there is, ain't it? Little soap n' water's all it takes to make dirt yer bitch."

Aoyagi splutters out a helpless laugh. Fucking hell, what he wouldn't give to have half the way with words this guy does.

"Ya think I wear these 'cause they look cool?" Majima-san holds up a hand and wiggles his leather-gloved fingers. "I mean. They do look cool as shit, right?"

"They look cool as shit," Aoyagi confirms, and he tries to keep the smile from creeping in there but it's late and he's tired and he doesn't have the energy to try too hard.

"Hell yeah they do." He's quiet for a while. "Cheaper than the hand soap bill I was rackin' up, too."

Aoyagi tries to imagine the unstoppable force of nature that is Goro Goddamn Majima scrubbing his hands raw every time he even thinks he's touched something dirty or every time his brain is making too awful a racket to let him sleep, in the same way he himself wakes up in a cold sweat with the worst months of his life freshly dredged up to the surface and feels that deep visceral need to spit-polish his surroundings spotless. It's not easy to imagine, but it's easier than he thinks it should be and it makes his blood run cold.

"Like I said. I'd rather see ya up here scrubbin' the shitters at three in the mornin' than out on the street puttin' God knows what up yer nose or in yer veins or whatever. Just make sure it's what you wanna do n' not what some punkass shoulder devil's whisperin' in yer ear."

"How do I tell the difference?" Aoyagi asks.

"Dunno," Majima-san says with a shrug. "I'll let ya know when I figure it out."

[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter Five, Part 7

"Yeah, I guess it's not really my thing. But, hey, neither are clubs and here I am," I shrugged it off like it was no big deal.

"I'm still a little surprised by it."

"I guess I know I'm not actually going to a club. I'm going to a safe place with my friends. I really don't have friends here. I mean, people know me enough to nod their heads or say hello, but I can't say that any of those people are my friends."

"Chad said you were pretty loyal to your friends," she said, almost off-hand.

"Wait, what?"

"I admit. I talked to Chad about you. After I found out you were friends with him, and he told me how close you guys really are. Don't worry. Chad is an excellent hype man for you, "she giggled. Now my curiosity was peaking. What did Chad tell her? What does she know about me that I don't know she knows" Does she know both the good and the bad?

"Why?" It was all I could think to say.

"You intrigue me. I can't deny that."

"Well, what did he tell you?"

"I'm sorry, I can't answer that. Friendship clause, you know."

"Friendship clause?" I was starting to feel like a little kid with way too many questions I won't get any answers for.

"Yep. Using a friendship for information. Whatever they say is confidential. They can tell me about you, but I can't share that information. It's all confidential."

"Damn."

"I can tell you that Chad didn't have one bad thing to say about you," she softly smiled. The smile that warmed every part of me.

"I'm betting there's a clause somewhere there. Maybe something about how best friends don't talk shit to romantic interests. Or something like that."

"Romantic interests?" Addison said laughing.

"I'm no lawyer. I don't know how to sound professional."

"You're a dork," she smirked as we pulled into the parking lot, parking right next to Conner's car.

"Yeah, I know," I shrugged at her.

We all hopped out of respective seats, Addison once again taking my hand. And Kayla gave a peck on Conner's cheek. A really loving type of thing. It was good to see them lasting. They were good for each other. They kept each other off drugs. Conner was an opiate abuser, and Kayla once was a major fan of methamphetamine. She'd been clean for at least two years or so. They acted like an old couple. It was kind of cute.

Club Specter wasn't all that impressive on the outside, other than its neon back lit pink shape of a ghost. It was unassuming and if you had no idea what it was and drove past it one night, nothing would give away its secrets. Like any other club in the earlier 2010's, they did theme nights pretty often, one of which being Goth Night. And that seemed to be the only time I'd ever been inside of this place.

I won't deny that it did seem to be a good time every time we went. And being the plus that the placed was filled with goth and punk subcultures, it was easy to slide around in the crowd. Socialization without the actual need to socialize. The perfect type of socialization. The club would play a lot of old 80's goth music, even throwing in some modern darkwave. Besides the normal bar, they also opened an absinthe bar. The place was dressed in red lights, giving it the perfect ambiance.

We all made our way inside and headed straight for the bar. Addison sat next to me, and Kayla sat on the other hand of her. Conner stood behind us all. In all the times I went out with him, it was rare to see him actually sit at a bar. I guess he just preferred to stand.

[basic204]

You should never have touched the strange glowing spear.

"You should never have touched the strange glowing spear." I repeated to myself for the hundredth... yeah, it had to be at least that many as I raised my slim, perfect arm, and deflected the tank's sabot round with my palm. I mean sure, it’s amazing being nigh invulnerable to harm, but was being pulled to every area of conflict on Earth 24/7 worth it? I mean the soldiers can't even actually see me as I stalk the battlefield, watching, encouraging, leaning down to whisper "If you run to that boulder, you can throw the grenade into the hatch of that damned tank." Running my hands through the hair a young soldier about to break and run saying "Courage, I promise you will survive this" Touching a general on the shoulder as he pours over his maps and making him see the best way to smash the enemy's flank without losing too many of his men. As amazing as it all is being in this beautiful, perfect form, I'd give it all up if I could just go back to standing while I damned well pee again.

I guess I should explain how this started a little better. After I got out of the Army, I moved back into my parents’ old house. Ms. Stratos been part of the neighborhood as long as I can remember. She was the crotchety old biddy that every neighborhood hates. Weeds in your yard because you've been working doubles for a month, she'd call the HOA. Get together at your house with your friends ran one minute past 10pm, the cops would be on your doorstep because "She called about a wild party". When we were kids, and cut through her yard she would go full scorched earth, shaking her cane, screaming, HOA, cops. I don't think there was a soul on this Earth that she liked.

Not long after I came home, I was pressure washing my driveway, when she walked over and asked if I could do her walkway when I was done. Her voice, which I had only ever heard as a shrill shriek my whole life, was full, rich, and commanding, and did not belong on a wisp of a crone like this, it was more like the voice I'd heard from every colonel, and general I'd ever served with, that is the kind you don't say no to. After I finished her walk, I cleaned her driveway as well since it looked like shit, and frankly, part of me was afraid of half-assing it.

As I was wrapping up, her garage door opened and there was a pair of lawn chairs, and a cooler. Were sitting just inside. She motioned me to sit, fished out a beer, and handed it to me before she sat down. She didn't say a word, and just looked over the driveway with a slight nod of approval. We never spoke a word, just sat drinking our beer, watching the neighbors walk by, giving her glances that ranged from fear to contempt. When the beer was done, I gathered my things, and crossed the street to my house.

Thus it went for a few years. I'd be doing something outside, look up, and she would be there asking me to help her with something. Repairing windows, changing the float in the toilet, replacing a ceiling fan. Her house was a monument to clutter. Souvenirs from all over the world, pictures showing a younger, much hotter version of Ms. Stratos. Each task I completed was followed by a trip to the garage for beer, and laughing at the neighbors.

One day, after I replaced her garbage disposal, she pointed at the scars on my arms and asked. "Those still hurt?" I shook my head "Nah, these I don't even notice, its the plates, and screws holding my legs together that hurt like hell." I shrugged "IED, Kandahar. Could have been worse, if I hadn't listened to that little voice in my head to stop, I'd have driven right over it. It was the difference between living and dying." She nodded with a sad smile and laid her hand on my cheek. "Its a good thing you listened to that voice then, most don't." She looked me right in the eyes. "Part of you misses it, I can tell." I nodded. "I miss teaching the young guys so they didn't get themselves killed doing something stupid. Mostly, I just wanted to walk into the HQ, and tell those idiots with the stars on their shoulders, everything that they are doing wrong, and how to fix it." I swear, it was like her eyes lit with fire for a moment and she said coldly. "Is that what you really want? To help the soldiers, and fix things?" I laughed to break the tension and said "Yeah, wouldn't that be fucking great?" I quickly left, as things were getting a bit intense for me.

The siren from the ambulance woke me at midnight, and I went outside in time to see them loading Ms. Stratos into the back. Fighting the paramedics, she clawed the oxygen mask from her face, and pointed at me. Her voice rang clear as a bell. "I'm leaving it in your hands, you can take up the spear now." I watched the lights until they were lost around the corner. I found out that she died on the way to the hospital. A lawyer named Nina Themis contacted me a little while later, informing me that I was the sole beneficiary of the estate of one Athena Stratos, and, with the exception of a few items she had donated to various museums, was entitled to her house, and everything contained within it.

It was a few weeks before I could bring myself to go over there, and start cleaning out the place. When I entered, the place simply felt dead, and hollow without her personality filling it. I spent an hour checking out things that I had always wondered about. A few statues in marble, a stabbing spear I swear must have been a prop from the movie Zulu, a huge painting of the Parthenon, mostly hidden behind a pair of cabinets holding Hummel figurines. I was at a loss where to start when I saw a curious light coming from under a side room. I had to put my shoulder to the door to get it open, but there are advantages to being 6' 3", and 220 pounds of muscle. Moving through stacks of boxes, filled with what appeared to be Jane's Defence Weekly, and Soldier of Fortune magazines, I saw it.

It sat on the armor tree, the metal looking like liquid gold. Burnished bronze was my guess. Breastplate, helmet, greaves over a pristine white tunic, all in the most classical Greek style, right out of the museums, and leaning on it was a spear that, I shit you not, was glowing like a fucking light saber. As freaked out as that was, I just couldn't help myself. If you tell me you wouldn't have done the same, I'd call you a liar to your face. There was no heat, as I grasped it, but the glow enveloped my whole body instantly. I felt a burning sensation as my clothes disintegrated. I felt agony as I looked down to see the hair fall from my rapidly slimming legs, and a wet clank, as the plates, and screws that had been my tormentors for years, hit the floor. My arms slimmed, becoming the color of marble, and my pecs started doing things that I didn't want to think about.. There was an uncomfortable feeling in my groin, and I gave out a scream as, with a pop, everything inverted. The armor on the stand flowed onto my body, and took its proper place. With a final flare, the glow snapped off, and I could feel the knowledge of centuries of combat, and battles flowed into my brain, and I almost crashed to my knees.

I ran into the bathroom, stupid damned spear still in my hand, and flicked on the light. My heart sank as the face of a 6 foot tall goddess of a woman staring back at me. I looked down at my arms, and didn't see a scar, or even blemish on them. I leaned the spear on the hamper, and used both hands to lift the hem of the tunic up, as I watched in the mirror. Bracing, I saw exactly what I was expecting, an innie, where is should be an outie. I looked at myself in the mirror and could only say one thing. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!"

[mybrainlol]

I just did a shortish workout, listening to Pantera. Lifted the kettle bell, did some leg stretches. Decided to exercise and let out my anger frustration, rather than let it get to me and brood. It's absurd that Johnny would just block me, and make a post about how he thought I was calling out Sam on social media. Does the fool not realize that he was doing the same thing? Obviously not. That's how oblivious he is. I cried some tears earlier, because I was worried that Johnny would essentially slander my name, and maybe prevent the rest of the guys from ever wanting to talk to me. Then I realized, any actual adult would not give a fuck. Like Phil Anselmo said, "A punk like that is just piss in the wind". Nothing. Fucking nothing.

Honestly, thinking about it all now, it's pretty cringe for Johnny to come to the defense of Sam, when he doesn't even know the whole story. To even imply that I am ungrateful, and demanding is stupid. What's wrong with telling my side of the story? What's wrong with voicing how I feel? The moment that I point out someone is fallible, that makes me the bad guy? No. He's wrong. And stupid. So fucking stupid. How much of a fan boy can you be? I guess his wife really was right in that the guys are only nice to him because he tags them all the time online, and buys all their stuff. What a moron. There's people online that are so quick to call anything parasocial. Everything is a parasocial relationship now-a-days since people on reddit learned what that term was. But what John has in his mind, really is a parasocial relationship with the band. It's absurd! They're regular people, like you and me!

It's so stupid to me. Like, do I have to point out every single thing I do, to prove that I give a fuck about them? Do I have to make a social media post every damn day licking their ass and making sure their gooch is clean? mmm, salty. lol

How many people meet a band once and then claim that they're friends? How many times does a person like John or Gen have to go to one of these shows, buy all these peoples' stuff, in order to gain their "friendship"? Shit, that's parasocial in itself, despite being real life! You don't have to be on the internet to have a parasocial thing, it can be physical too. Face to face in real life. I remember at the last show, seeing Gen ask all the members for their autograph on the poster she bought. I thought to myself, "If these people are your friends, why would you have them sign your stuff?" That was one of the reasons I didn't buy anything, lol. Granted, at the end of the first show, I didn't bring my purse with me in time to the merch table before it was all packed up lol. Still, why would I ask my friend for their autograph, if I wasn't going to sell it on ebay or something like that? It's stupid to me.

I'm over it now. I'm glad that I blogged and exercised. I took a couple anxiety meds to calm down too. I had this anxiousness that could have escalated into a panic attack. I don't want something as lame as this to get to me mentally, you know? John is old, fat, and stupid. I'll outlive him, naturally. So there's nothing to even care about. I'm going to keep doing my own thing, and he can shit and fart about all the dumb shit that he can. It makes no difference to me.

I just hope, my only serious thing, that it doesn't prevent any possibility of giving my number to LB. Before all this, I had the idea to message a friend, to give it to him. Now, I don't know. If I do, I'm going to have to wait some more. Give it some more time. Unless, hopefully, there is going to be another show soon where I can just go do that there. That probably sounds parasocial of me! I swear it's not...my god there was a girl talking to Coleman and I saw that she gave him her number. I wanted to do the same thing for LB! But shy shell me just couldn't do that. Maybe for now, it's for the best.

I've been hoping that maybe, just maybe, he'll reach out to me, and maybe ask for my number. If I end up doing so, I figure that I'll just use the book I gave as an excuse. Like, "Hey, yeah, here's my number. Let me know what you think of the book!" Though my reptile brain tells me he probably wouldn't do that. No guy I've ever given my number to ever does that. Ah!

I hate giving in to internet drama. Yet, at the same time, I don't want to any perceptions, as blatantly erroneous as they may be, to cloud my chances of...anything. So I'm going to leave my post up for a while, then maybe post some things about my channel later. I'm going to cut out the personal stuff. I don't want to put that out anymore. God forbid this happens again, and someone decides to say that all the bad things that happened to me last year were my own fault; or that I deserved it. That's the thing that gave me the most anxiety earlier. I was afraid that John was going to say that in the comments of his post... that perhaps all the things I was sad about were partially my own doing. So far...no. At least, on the website where I can look at the post without logging in...no, he doesn't seem to say that. Though, should I really care? These people don't really know me. If he did, then he wouldn't have gotten offended by what I said.

All I said in my private story was that I have no idea why Sam hadn't talked to me. Not my problem anymore though. I saw some things he did that made me question his character though. But it wasn't my problem. And that's it. I'm keeping it vague because I don't want one of them to find this blog. Though, I doubt they will.

Anyway, if they somehow see this, why would it matter what I think? A real adult would be able to see my thoughts, then move on with their life. What's the point in getting frustrated over what I said? What's the most absurd part to me, is how he didn't even bother to talk to me about it? What's the point of that? You see my post then immediately block me...and then make a call out post of your own talking about how calling out people is wrong. Where is the logic in that?

[youcantdateosmosisjones]

You’re five years old, and you’re living in the most backwashed piece of shit town in your state- according to the papers- but it’s all you’ve ever known. It’s not perfect, sure, but it’s enough. 

Why don’t they understand that?

Your brother is only a few years older than you. Nobody would guess that you’re related just by looking at you, but there’s only so many people that look like you guys here. You don’t really understand it then, but you see the way his friends look at your family at times. They’re nice, you say. They’ve been kind to you, it’s probably nothing. they haven’t wronged you.

You’re 12 years old, and your mom just came back from the hospital with something so new and ugly looking- but it’s still family, she reminds you. But you know how much your father hates it here. It grows every day. You can see the fear in his eyes when he sees you with your siblings, laughing and playing without a care in the world. You didn’t know it then, but people didn’t like him. Too temperamental, they said... but so were the fathers of your brothers friends. They worked in offices, behind desks in a musky building with a half-working fan in the corner. They worked at the supermarket ringing you up when you walked there barefoot at 10pm because you’re dad was too tired to go buy cigarettes himself. But at least he let you buy some soda to share with your brother. They are able to be whatever they want to be here. Your father works at the scrapyard. The one that your brother’s friends go to and throw homemade explosives at the piles of junk- the ones he has to clean up after. The one that the other dads, your friends parents, think he’s a lowlife for. Neither of you mention that fact to your father.

You know he hates it here. You know he doesn’t hate you, but something inside you hopes that you’re enough to keep him here. You share a face, a life, a family... why wouldn’t that be enough?

He stopped coming home for dinner weeks ago.

In the morning you wake to the sound of muffled crying- and not from the baby- and the rumbling of an engine. The engine of the one car that you owned. Your fathers. Your mom is in her bed with her back turned to you, curled up facing the wall. It’s dark, and she won’t say anything. Your brother’s still asleep, and you’re still in your pajamas. Barefoot, cold, with wild unkempt hair coated in grease and drool. In your mother’s room again, the drawers have been pulled out, scavenged and emptied. You almost wish you hadn’t spent all this time trying to figure out what was happening instead of taking action, but how could you have known?

...only you did. You just didn’t want to believe it until after the fact.

As it turns out, even chasing at screaming after a moving vehicle proved useless at that point. He just drove faster. At the final turn, you stop, unblinking, watching a hunk of metal he promised to teach you how to drive just- disappear. Not even an hour later did anything you had of him leave your life forever.

You’re 15 years old, and you’ve been swiping cigarettes from your brother for what has to be- what, 3 weeks now? It’s a new habit of his. At a Christmas diner some years ago he showed up with a girl from his class, one who seemed nice enough, but the dinner was silent in their presence. I had never really thought my own brother was out there living his own life outside of our family before then, but now here he was, heavily pregnant teenage fling in tow, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

I saw it then, a look that I had almost drove myself insane over trying to forget it. He was scared, and he hated it here.

I never met that girl again after that, but the baby looks almost exactly as I remembered her. I like to think that birds of a feather flock together, because she was just like my father- and my brother, as I would soon find out. She was gone, with no binds to our family or her responsibilities, and I know now that my brother wished he had that privilege. I don’t think he wanted her necessarily, he just wanted to be rid of us.

You’re 15, it’s the month after your birthday, and since he hasn’t come home you’re stuck with his daughter for the night. It’s become more common lately, so you don’t bother to be annoyed with him anymore. He’s a good guy, you know that, and he hasn’t wronged you. It wouldn’t be fair to blame it on him, even after everything.

You could very well go to sleep right now and save you energy for the morning, but it’s a Saturday night, your mom’s been taking overnight shifts at the hospital, and the late night program is on TV. Why not be lazy for once? You deserve a little break from everything.

It’s 3 in the morning, and she didn’t expect you to be up still. She’s sobbing again. It’s the first time you’ve seen her do that in years. You have a vague memory of lights in the background coming in through the blinds, some shade of red, and hushed conversations just outside the door. She’s still sobbing, and she’s hugging you now. You don’t understand a word that’s coming out of her mouth.

He died. At first you didn’t know how or why, only that he was gone. One moment, you think of him like he’s just out there... somewhere else. But now you have to remind yourself that he’s inside the box in front of you. 

Nobody who knew him could look at his face, not even your mother or his closest friends.

Weeks later, you’d find out that he had killed himself under a bridge. A bridge of all places- one that you were vaguely aware of the existence of, but one has to wonder if he planned to do it there, or if it was just convenient that night. People shouldn’t think this way of their dead relatives, but fuck that.

Did he even plan on telling anyone? Did he try to? Were you just not listening? Is it reasonable to hate him right now- is that allowed? How many times has he tried before? Why didn’t he tell us? He couldn’t have left a fucking note? Was something else going on?

I want to hate him. I really do. It isn’t even justified, he didn’t even do anything wrong that I can think of. He was young, and he made mistakes, but he was a good person while it lasted. He was a good dad. I don’t even have the strength to lie about that.

He reminds me a lot of dad. I was always more like him that he was, but he was always his son. Our sister doesn’t even remember him. And maybe that's for the best... Maybe neither of them wanted to fuck up what they made, so they left. Taking away everything that I loved about them with them in a matter of minutes, and only leaving behind their mess.

Is this how my mom felt?

I hate this feeling.

I hate them for leaving.

I hate them for leaving me.

I hate them for leaving this shitty town.

I hate living in this shitty town.

I hate pretending like this is enough.

I hate living off of scraps.

I hate my mom for working for the bare minimum.

I hate her for knowing exactly what I know.

I hate my sister and my niece for not knowing this.

I hate those two for not knowing the pain.

I hate them for being cowards.

I hate them for having the balls to do what I wish I could.

I hate being stuck with their messes and responsibilities and attachments and sentiments- the shit they didn’t want anymore. I never wanted these. My dad didn’t want this, my niece's mother didn’t want this, my brother didn’t want this, and so by some twisted turn of fate I’m the one who gets stuck with it.

I hate living with the idea that the people around me, although they've watched and witnessed, and fought with the same exact thing as me, they can still keep on living without them like they didn’t just take all the parts that made them human, and left the shit. If I wasn’t here right now, having to push pennies together to care for what little family I have left, I probably would’ve done the same thing. I fucking hate that fact.

I think it’s a genetic trait. I hope so. Maybe then it wouldn’t be my fault for wanting to do the same shit they did.