#and u feel emotions uve never felt befor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crepuscollo · 2 years

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the post before this (or the one before the before this) rlly made me think about who i am able to take my mask off with and who i cant.

i obviously thoughtlessly drifted to how it would be like to take off my mask with ash. thats when i realised he may be one of the only people if not literally the only person ive ever been fully comfortable with.

sure there’s the whole smart ass know it all thing he has going and his whole i like feeling rich thing and the twisted perspectives on some things. but away from that ive never been more myself than i was with him. ive never shared so much of myself either. i shared everything. all the dark sex fantasies, my big childhood secret, i never opened up ab my mum but thats bec of other things. i just felt like i could talk to him ab anth and say anth and it would be okay. im not saying other ppl necessarily judge me or i dont trust them or anything i just didnt feel okay telling them.

so yeah. it was really hard to get rejected (or atlst thats how i would put it) by the one person uve ever FULLY let ur guard down for. the one person who you told ur deepest darkest secret. the one person u were the most yourself with, couldnt even fucking be with you. didnt like you enough. im not even saying i liked him that much because i didnt. it was a lot more about me than him. ig its the way he makes me feel. so its him as well. but im talking about the rejection, here. it was hard to take not because i couldnt live without him, but because im really desperate for him to like me. i still am. i think about it a lot. idk why i can be myself around him and not other people. but it rlly fucking hurts that he rejected me. and not just that but after it all i could feel was him drifting and separating from me snd purposefully putting distance between us which ofc only made me think that he never rlly liked me and he finds me annoying and a pain in the ass. so thats even worse.

when i was crying and all that i wont say my feelings for him weren’t strong but they weren’t that strong. i was dealing with a lot; belal and my sister, post-hurghada stress, maya vs my sis, socially drained, physically drained, not well rested, still having to see family and friends so no break, my period lol, im on accutane. the list goes on for the amount of shit that was happening and duding hurghada the only thing i could think ab was getting back and telling him all about it and our late night calls. but no. he wasnt there. he said hed be there and he wasnt. and he doesnt try to be. and he doesnt care that he isnt. he just isnt. he just isnt here anymore. he suddenly decided that he isnt hete anymore. these arent trust issues babe, i got abandonment issues.

ch4, black, ash, sp1.

sp2 was complicated. blue was me letting my demons out on him bec i couldnt handle it.

anyway, its kind of bugging me that he thinks i was so swooned by him bec im so sure it fed his ego which is natural i guess but its not honest. i didnt really truly figure out how i felt till now. i miss him. his friendship. our calls. talking to him. about everything. i miss him a lot and ill never not miss him and i don’t necessarily like him romantically- a lot of it if not most of it is platonic- but he just doesnt enjoy my company, i guess. and thats the thing that hurts to make peace with. its almost impossible. bec i feel very strongly about him.

oh and my attachment to him was very emotional which is another reason why the parting was so intense for me. he opened more doors to me than anyone ever has. he is so special. but he made me really insecure. i feel unlovable and hopeless. like im just a talking stage, never more than that. even if they loved me or really strongly liked me- its never enough for more than just that. thats why i cant do this anymore. talk to guys and open up and this shit and then get hurt and abandoned again… i just cant do it.

ash told me please dont let me be a bad example of a guy or someone who hurt u and this whole thing … i told him yeah. sure. i let him have it. but theres no way he could have done what he did without hurting me (nvm he could be my friend lol but let me continue either way) bec nthn will change the fact eno i opened up to him and he left me still. he told me at one point en hes doing this too late but atlst he is doing it still. yeah. he got one thing right. it was most definitely too late.

its really crazy to me that the whole parting thing happened july 31 and august 1 but im coming to terms with how i felt and why i felt it and my emotions and feelings are only making sense on this not-so-random tuesday: november 1. (its technically monday, october 31st, but its almost 5am on tuesdsy soo). exactly 2 months. ha. ridiculous. i wish i could tell him tho. i wish i could tell him that i wasnt so sad bec i wanted him so badly and loved him snd wanted a rsp. he was just a good friend for me, and thats what broke my heart. and thats why hes a bad person, he did abandon me. he abandoned our friendship. thats all i wanted: a friend. he can say were “friends” and hes here or wtv but thats not the way it feels. it doesnt feel like hes here. it doesnt feel like he cares. this is why i cant forgive him. i shouldnt have to. he made promises that a frjend makes; before and after the parting; and he didnt live up to any of it. i guess a promise doesnt mean anything. trust doesnt mean anything. and affection and soft spots and caring fade away in one night and all our golden conversations and incredible talks and memories fade away as easily as a melting snowflake. nothing matters. not to him anyway. not me to him.

there are a few thoughts that got lost in there that i probably didnt chase fast enough to get them down but thats enough for now. i cant process any more unfinished business tonight. its 4:49am and im dreading studying math tomorrow, as always.

fuck. every time i think of majors and uni i think of ash. every good song or every song that manifests a colour reminds me of him. hes all i can think about. he is forever. and he doesnt deserve that. he lives in my mind, undeserving, invasive, unwanted, unrelenting, yet comfortable and gnawing away at my sanity.

i hate him

i hate him so so much

god,

i hate him.

i cant say it enough

i cant fucking say it enough because i cant lose hope in the fact that if i say it enough, itll come true.

why cant he be easy to hate? like black.

fuck.

FUCK.

he doesnt deserve my feelings and emotions. why did he have to open that door?

it was so hard to shut. and i never wanted to shut it in the first place. he shouldve handled it with more delicacy. more care. but no, lol, abandoned. again. i could make a poem of all the “agains”.

i need to sleep

i need my mind to rest

omg onw more rhing the best door he opened is my ability to write again like when i reread the jo ss a few weeks ago it made me realize how i was bstter at communicating advice snd comfort and those sorts of things and connectingwith things and he helped me see that i aint what i used to be snd i dont have as many feelings or thoights or deepnesd or intensity as i used to be because i pushed it all away, deep down. but its back, as u can see. i cant stop writing. i cant stop feeling. i cant stop thinking about him.

i cant stop looking for his face in crowds.

god i wish i could … idk… do i regret him? he made me feel intense and good emotions and everyth and helped me reslize a lot of things and i cant deny en he was a beyond good part of my summer but now when i look back at hurghada im like did these pics and vids drive him away and all i canthink is oh yeah she had no idea whatll happen in teo days and yeah it went from 0 to 100 so quick so idk if i regret it or not idk if it was worth it

also horny is easy to feel bec it feels good yet intense snd secretive its not like happiness but its still a good feeling which is odd excitement is supposed to be good bit its stressfull as well and it gnaws at u. horny is good and essy snd quick and even if u get it wrong so what nthn is affected. it cant go badly (even excitement can be stress) so yeah. horny is essy snd not complicated and thats why i like feeling a lot of it it doesnt let me feel empty and it elevates my mood at the same time.

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punkcherries · 3 years

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ok wait i have thoughts on wat the tracks of the train to nowhere album drawing i did would be like lemme ramble hold on under da cut i ont wanna clog no ones dashes or watever lmfao

all aboard would probably be a short intro track that samples real old timey trains, bout a minute and a half long, before fading into the next track wormhole judgement line would be like a very futuristic dated-yet-timeless synth track introducing the concept of the album which is an alien train where whole worlds are held in the cars and anything can happen, again using real train samples ring for service would be a bit of a swerve as it introduces piano and is reminiscent of hotel lobby music, but with a somewhat cold and unnerving synth edge, to reflect the anxiety and confusion ryan and min felt waking up on an iceberg with a talking floating magic call bell lmfao outlaw would be even MORE of a swerve cus it would just BUST in, no real fade from the last track in, just BOOM cowboy music, which fits the whiplash between going from weird alien iceberg eon car to COWBOYS BABY. lyrically its about being a wanted outlaw in a place uve never been before man’s best friend (the cat) would transition from the last track into a jaunty piano tune like ud hear in a saloon, but with an odd french twist, probably with some accordion samples here and there. the music would also reflect the lyrics in giving off an air of mystique and poise and a tinge of potential danger execution could very easily be seen as just outlaw (reprise) but its musically much darker and more frantic, and also shorter, somewhere around a cool 2 minutes, and itd feature a light humming buzz in the background that develops into crackling and finally loud shocking noises accompanied by a pained scream before..,,, silence little piggy would be the strangest track by far, following the intensity of the last track with music box samples. itd start slow and melodic, but pick up speed and more instruments layered on top as it goes, and lyrically would have kind of a nursery rhyme vibe to it, very very unnerving and very very unlike anything else on the album saturnalia would be more like the typical synth rock ud expect from a duo like ryan and min, very musically up beat and great dance music with a KILLER bass line and fuzz guitar, but lyrically would be..... kinda depressing, about being alone at a party and ykno basically what happened in the astro party car, ur friend ditched u lol. the song would have a fade out to prep for the next track bathroom interlude would literally just be the song min and ryan played in the bathroom but like a minute long. no instruments other than guitar and mini synth crooked paintings would bring back the piano and maybe accordion from earlier, eerie and cold and dark, juxtaposing the relatively warm vibe of the interlude before it. lyrically, itd be about the art gallery car of course but mostly focusing on themes of being alone but feeling like ur not. spooky!!! phantom hands picks up the pace from the last song as the feeling of not being alone becomes fact, while crooked paintings toned back the guitar in favor of a dark brooding bass track, phantom hands would have more rough fuzzy guitar, almost drowning out other instruments, as kind of a highlight to the intensity and fear of what happened there is this your stop? almost halts phantom hands in its tracks, bringing back the future-y synths to the forefront as the lyrics contemplate escaping the panic, although the music of phantom hands starts building up again in the background, and ultimately melds with the synths before the track fades out, being a swift minute and a half or so long locked out while being a reference to ryan literally being locked out of the art gallery car would be more metaphorical lyrically, about the things both of them kept at arms distance from eachother, and have more acoustic instruments to it, which would transition quite smoothly into the next track mega maze also a literal reference, but lyrically metaphorical about their relationship and how confusing navigating emotions can be. more synth is added in at this point but really only serves to make the song feel even more cold and dazed manhunt picks the album’s plot back up and were back to literals here, as the electric guitar kicks in for a life-or-death chase track, its a race to the castle doors as suddenly musical themes from outlaw, little piggy, and ring for service come back into play, and by the end of this ~4 minute track comes in, organ samples are introduced adding a gothic tone which bleeds over into the next track 202 is where a lot of tension bubbles over, dark instrumentation and sharp lyrics about hope and despair and fear of being alone, very pre-emo emo if i do say so myself, using mostly electric guitar organ and bass. as the tension cools down, the synth starts to kick in, possibly sampling im gonna dress my dog in a toque, like a ray of sunshine coming in to warm up the track and fade into the next stuck with you would be a sort of synth ballad, about reassurance and dedication and building something together and Its Totally Not Gay What No Way Were Best Friends Haha I Promise Mom. the guitar really starts to kick in in the second half before the end which does not transition into the next song but does end on the same note the next song starts on train to nowhere would just be the song from the show but extended lol

overall the album would be a really kitschy concept album to the lay listener and a wild autobiography about being on the train to anyone In The Know and also very fucking gay i can imagine lgbt ppl in universe writing whole essays on the subtext and how Actually The Album Is An Allegory For Being Gay And Closeted And In Love In The 80s sjfhkdjg

#cherryz txt #infinity train #I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS.................OK................................jhgsfjkgfdjk

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gamespritearchive · 3 years

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yes i like fullmetal alchemist brotherhood a normal amount (<- lying) this post is going to be long so open the readmore at ur own risk

ok this is genuinely going to be a mess because im really terrible at summarizing things and organizing my thoughts so if ur actually gonna read through this then good luck!

here are just some short thoughts before the longer paragraphs

- i absolutely LOVE the note that plays right after the alchemists clap their hands together that indicates that theyre abt to use alchemy. the sound of the clap + the note that plays is incredibly satisfying

- the strong and well-written female characters in this show was a really good touch and i loved how they brought them (izumi and olivier) together at the end :') also their beefy husbands together was super nice too

- my favorite part of the story was actually the part where ed and al go to briggs because thats wher they introduced olivier. it was super nice to see her talk about how strong-willed she is and her army and all of that

- lan fan is another example of a strong female character but a little less favorable since she serves ling yao. that doesnt make her any less cool though she was super badass and i definitely cried over her more than once

- the details in this show was really nice. alphonse's body being malnourished was something that seemed really obvious, but the fact that when ed got his right arm back it was noticeably less muscular and had longer nails than his left was such a good detail

- in the last episode there was a scene where alphonse made a dumb face that was animated just like how ed's faces looked and that made me really happy that we finally get to see al emote just like his brother :')

- im pretty sure i cried through the entirety of the last episode because being able to see the characters laugh and smile without feeling burdoned by anything after youve seen them go through repeated heartache and physical pain for 63 episodes is a super nice feeling

- "i'm a terrible father but i want to make you two proud" .

- "i'll give you half of my life and you give me half of yours" UGH

- also right after this when ed was laughing at how flustered winry got because normally hes the one who gets flustered :') that was so sweet

- i literally guessed that it was morse code whenever they showed selim banging on al's head because its like why would they put so much emphasis on that and let it go on for like 10 seconds without any music over it. this happened like multiple times too and i guessed it before they made it incredibly obvious bye im the smartest guy alive

ok heres where i talk more besties lets go

fmab was absolutely worth watching 64 episodes. i was convinced that i probably wont finish it because i have trouble finishing 12 episodes but as it may be obvious i got super invested. fmab being this long allowed there to be enough time to explain aspects of the story separately and to watch them all come together at some point. it also allowed for a ton of details that even though they're small, they're still important to the story. they rehash a lot of points because it was a simple detail that could get lost through the story but when its rementioned and you recall the time, it's such a nice feeling to have that click in ur mind.

also the character development was really good and ill get more in-depth about characters later but the length of this anime also allowed for a ton of really good character development. it ties into the whole thing where you learn about a characters backstory and you don't understand why it's important to the show until later on and then you're like ohhhh holy shit that makes sense now! also all that time for character development also lets you get attached to more than just the main characters and makes you care more about the role they play in the story.

roy mustang. at first i liked him, but when he started to speak about how he wanted to become the fuhrer president before he knew the military was corrupt, i assumed that he would just become as corrupt as bradley was ("starting wars for no reason"). i was convinced for the longest time that he would eventually just turn out to be the second bad guy and that nearly came true whenever he was trying to kill envy but riza helped him :) i loved the entirety of their relationship they're so sweet and compliment eachother so well. the scene where roy demonstrates the sheer amount of trust he has in riza's abilities by blindly (heh. he was blind during this if u didnt know.) following her directions and hitting their target ... it was just so good. also even though i didnt trust roy i thought he was super badass the sound of him snapping was always super satisfying as well

i almost want to rewatch fmab because it would be really nice to pick up on things that were later referenced in the anime. because of how long it is, its super easy to forget about things that happened early on in the anime (especially for someone with memory issues lol) so being able to watch back with the second half of the show still fresh on my mind would be almost an entirely different experience. the first thing that comes to mind is whenever we were shown kimblee in prison super early on. i know he had dialogue but i remember nothing about it because i was focused on thinking "literally who the fuck is this guy lol" but now i know. wow.

edward elric. im aware that this is going to be incredibly biased but i literally do not care. anyways. character development is always important and needed within a story but i genuinely feel like ed's character development was interesting to watch. it was never super obvious and his core values never changed. he did somewhat have a change in attitude when he nearly died to kimblee, but thats like expected you know ... being that close to death and all. i think that event was essentially the beginning of the end of his naivety. he was always consistent with the people he cared about though :) he never stopped calling them stupid and weird and he never stopped threatening to punch hohenheim whenever he was frustrated even if they were like in the middle of like a life or death situation. i just think he's neat

when ed destroyed pride('s vessel) i felt my heart well up with. pride LOL. that was his very first explicit win against someone who has been against him this entire time, and seeing him defeat pride with his own two hands was such a nice feeling. it wasnt technically his own win since he was only able to get to that point because of his friends and family around him

episode 60 was suuper good it was the part where the father was gonna swallow god because of the solar eclipse. its super hard to explain if uve never seen it but basically the scene was super cool simply because of how well the animation showed the sheer scale of what was happening. like this guy was literally reaching to the moon. theres a lot of unnatural things that are shown in fmab and although this scene didnt introduce any new concepts, it was still incredibly captivating because of how well the animation was

aand thats it i think! i regret not writing down how i feel during the earlier episodes but i think watching it with little to no distractions was a better experience. if u actually read this im giving u a kiss on the cheek rn ilu

#i dont expect anyone to read this btw this is purely for myself #i hate proofreading shit so dont look at anything too closely

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Not A Ghost, You're In My Head (Your Move 3/3) (Branjie) - Ortega

a/n: this has had about fifty billion potential titles, but rest assured that finally this is Your Move 3, only a year and a bit late. i really hope u all enjoy the end of the saga, and sorry and thank u to those who have been so patient! i’ll shut up now bc quite frankly uv all waited long enough for this. (title’s from Forever by Charli XCX pls listen to it it’s such a Branjie song)

fic summary: “Everything was perfect. Until it wasn’t.”

***

The smell of coffee and the warmth of the cafe inside hits Brooke like a ton of bricks as she walks in, blinks a little, and scans the room to find a seat. Eventually her eyes settle on a small booth through the back, away from the clatter and hiss of the coffee machines and probably the closest thing to quiet that they’ll get in a public setting like this. Sliding into it, Brooke shrugs her jacket off, lifts up a menu, puts it down again, drums her nails against the tabletop and takes her phone out. She checks the time, then checks her reflection in her phone’s camera. Briefly she finds it crossing her mind that she’s probably put more effort into her outfit, hair and makeup today than she had for their first date. What had she worn for their first date again? She can’t remember. She supposes it doesn’t matter now.

Putting her phone down, Brooke digs her toes into the soles of her shoes and takes one deep breath that she intends to be calming. Instead it leaves her feeling as if she is trapped under a sheet of ice with a millimetre of air to work with before she sinks underwater. Part of her feels as if she is already sinking. The other part of her feels as if she sank a month-and-a-bit ago and here she is, sitting waiting in a cafe, a living shipwreck. Sometimes her ribs feel like huge, cracked planks of wood, an empty vessel where something once lived. Sometimes it feels as if her heart is a sail, a huge mast broken in two with two long, ragged dagger marks scarring the sheet and rendering it useless. Other times she feels like a huge, heavy propellor is cutting into her stomach and churning it up, though that’s mainly when she makes the mistake of scanning social media (and isn’t madness doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results?)

Today, Brooke just feels hollow.

Suddenly her phone buzzes harshly against the table and Brooke’s heart involuntarily leaps as she picks it up, an aftershock of the past seven months that will eventually dissipate with time. At least, she hopes so.

V: i can’t do this today

V: i’m sorry

Brooke feels as if an elastic band inside her has suddenly snapped. She doesn’t know if she feels relieved or if she wants to cry. Feeling a blush prickle against her cheeks and a lump form in her throat, her body seems to make the decision for her.

B: It’s okay don’t worry. Another time x

What does she expect? Brooke isn’t supposed to be the heartbroken one, Brooke isn’t meant to be the one that is sitting crying at a coffee shop table as if she’s the one that’s been broken up with. She wipes below her eyes and dabs lightly at her lashes with her fingers before pulling her jacket back on and walking quickly back through the door of the cafe she’d stepped through not even five minutes ago.

They’ll try again when she’s ready.

***

Brooke sinks on top of her bed, letting out a huge, deep breath of air until her stomach feels as if it is concave. It had been Vanessa that was the cautious one, it had always been Brooke making the big decisions about their relationship- a fact that, she cruelly reminds herself, remained true til its very end. She blinks very slowly. Her eyelids are so fucking heavy and tired. She took the morning off work to accommodate her plans and now she has nothing to do. Sitting and staring at the ceiling until her eyes burn is a nice impromptu plan.

Her phone suddenly hums in the silence of the room. As if she’s been shocked by jump leads, Brooke spins over on her bed and grabs her phone from her bedside table, her heart hammering at an unhealthy rate. She feels the disappointment sink through her whole body when she sees the name on the screen.

“Hey.”

“Hey, boo. Calling to see how you were, but your tone kind of says it all for me.”

Brooke rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. Vanessa never showed.”

“I know. She phoned me.”

The cardiac arrest is back, alive and unwell in Brooke’s ribcage. “What did she say?”

“That she felt like an ass. I asked her what donkeys had to do with anything.”

Brooke shakes her head and laughs in spite of herself. “You’re the fucking worst.”

“I know. How are you doing?”

Brooke frowns deeply. “What, that’s all you said? That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

A sigh comes from the end of the line. “Brooke, maybe you have to let her go.”

“No, come on, Yves, that’s not fair. Don’t talk to me like I’m obsessed and still clinging on because that’s not…it’s more complicated than that.”

“I mean. It was you that ended things.”

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me,” Brooke sighs, her heart feeling sick and empty.

“Look, just give her some time. You can’t just expect everything to go back to the way things were. Because…” her friend pauses on the end of the line, as if she’s about to deliver something Brooke won’t want to hear. “…well. Things might not.”

“I thought you were phoning to cheer me up,” Brooke says, deadpan. Yvie has the audacity to laugh.

“No, sorry, sorry. I just…you know. Best friends tell you shit you don’t want to hear sometimes. That’s part of the contract I signed back in high school,” Yvie’s affectionate warm laugh comes down the phone and Brooke finds herself smiling. It’s impossible to stay mad at Yvie; she may look fierce on the outside but Brooke knows she’s secretly a Care Bear brought to life via magic spell. Brooke is sincerely happy they’ve been friends for so long. They’ve helped each other and been there for each other through a lot, of course, through situations that are arguably worse than this, but Brooke is glad she has Yvie during this absolutely shit time. Vanessa had loved Yvie too when she’d met all of Brooke’s friends. Sure, she’d got along with Plastique and Nina and had eventually warmed to Bianca (although that had been a struggle after some of Bianca’s snide comments), but Yvie had welcomed her into Brooke’s life with open arms and had treated her as if they had been friends all their lives too. Brooke knows Yvie still speaks to Vanessa just to check in on her. She doesn’t mind.

“Do you wanna go for drinks tonight? Or food, if you feel like drinks will descend into stuff you’ll regret,” Yvie continues down the phone. Brooke exhales slowly.

“…Honestly Yves, it’s fine.”

“I’ll come to the apartment then. I just don’t want you wallowing. Wallowing’s for hippos. You’re not a hippo. You’re a…graceful crane.”

“You’re drunk already.”

“Maybe I am, and what the fuck of it? Right, I’m coming over tonight with lasagne in a tinfoil tray. Preheat your oven now. I’ll be round at 7. Love you, bye.”

“Bye. Love you too,” Brooke raises her eyebrows as she hangs up the phone. She remembers when she used to sign off like that all the time.

***

Brooke remembers those days of being in love with Vanessa, when the sex was passionate and gentle and full of fire and tenderness all at once. She remembers how it felt to look at her for as long as she wanted, taking in each glossy thread of hair, each small speckle of colour in her eyes, each individual and perfectly curled eyelash. Vanessa would always laugh at Brooke when she did that, telling her she was a creep, to stop staring at her. Now Brooke wishes she’d looked just a second longer, because she’s clearly not committed it all to memory.

She decides to go into the office. What else can she do? Yvie is annoying, but she’s right, Brooke can’t just sit and wallow. Or she could, but there’s case files that need updating and Brooke can either be sad at home lying in bed or sad at work doing something productive. Sad is the wrong emotion, she supposes. Empty is maybe more accurate. She is past the point of sad. Sad had happened when they’d had that argument and Brooke had played her trump card, best card in the pack at the time. Now she knows it had been a tarot card in disguise, the fool, and Brooke hadn’t at all known what her future would hold. She still doesn’t.

She walks into her office, past people that used to fear her, respect her. Perhaps they still do, but Brooke can still see the glint of sympathy in their eyes, hear the note of pity their voices hold. Brooke says good morning to Nicky, her new secretary. She hasn’t fired her yet, probably won’t ever fire a secretary again no matter how horrendous they are. Vanessa never came back after that day and Brooke doesn’t blame her, but she hopes she’s found another job. Nicky, she supposes, isn’t horrendous. She’s efficient and calm and obedient. Brooke knows she’s attractive too, and for a moment she allows herself to wonder if there is a parallel universe where she’s sought out a relationship with Nicky instead. Maybe a bit of random fucking with a pretty girl could take her mind off everything. Brooke laughs to herself in her office. She’s clearly losing it.

Detox comes in around half an hour later. Brooke’s done no work, simply staring at an excel spreadsheet and feeling her eyes glaze over but being unable to work up the motivation needed to blink. Detox puts a cup of coffee down on her desk and Brooke lets out a laugh.

“Jesus Christ, D. I’m not dying.”

“Could’ve fooled me. Seen happier faces at a fucking wake,” Detox jibes softly, pushes the cup closer to Brooke. “How are you today?”

Brooke leans back in her chair, swears she catches the scent of Vanessa’s perfume. It is gone almost as quickly as it had appeared and all Brooke is left with is approximately 45,000 memories, none of which she wants. “I’m shit. But I think that might be my new normal, I’ve felt like shit for so long. So I guess shit is the new fine. Therefore I’m fine.”

Detox exhales through her nose, the hint of a humoured smile playing on her lips. “The old you would be beating you up and taking your lunch money if she heard you talking like that.”

“Believe me, I’ve already beaten myself up enough.”

Detox gives a heavy sigh of frustration, shifts from one foot to the other. “You need to sort your shit out, Brooke.”

“What are you, my Mom?” Brooke snaps back, now as frustrated as her friend. She wants to be left alone to stew in her own lack of emotions. Detox doesn’t relent.

“Look, I’m gonna give you two choices. Number one, you accept that everything’s over with Vanessa, that you fucked it, that you’ve made your bed and now you need to lie in it. But from what I can see of how you’re acting just now, you don’t want to do that.”

“No, I’m not fucking doing that,” Brooke sighs, tearing her hands down her face and wishing Detox would leave.

“Second option is, you start a constant campaign of non-stop attempts to win V back. Flowers, texts, cards, we’re talking borderline Joe from You.”

“Of course you watch that trash.”

“But you get the point?” Detox persists, annoying incarnate. “Brooke, you can’t…you can’t go on living like this. It’s been over a month, it feels like I’ve lost this bitch that used to be my friend.”

Brooke supposes she has lost her sense of self. She goes through her days without showing a single emotion, instead preferring to let them all out in the courtroom, raining down upon witnesses relentlessly as if every case has been a personal experience. She’s won her past six in a row and she puts it down to the fact that she now focuses every single fibre of being that she possesses into her career and job and work and anything that doesn’t have to involve emotions whatsoever.

“Look, I’ll..I’ll think about it, alright?” Brooke waves her away, rubs her forehead long-sufferingly. The whole thing is annoying her, becoming less of a heartbreak and more of a headache.

Detox smiles and punches the air. “That’s my girl. Have a think. Right, I’ll leave you alone. See you later.”

Have a think. Brooke wants to laugh. She hasn’t been able to stop thinking since the day Vanessa left.

***

Brooke misses her.

She misses the way Vanessa just got her humour like no-one else did. When she’d have a client waiting for her and Vanessa would send her her first impression or opinion of them in advance, and then Brooke would have to hold in her laughter for the duration of her meeting because holy fuck yes, the woman’s hat did make her look like a bat and combined with her cloak it did make her look like the villain in a superhero movie.

She misses the way that Vanessa had sort-of-not-quite-not-officially moved in with her. Some of her clothes are still strewn around the apartment: a pair of black heels left by the door that she’d worn out to dinner with her, an emerald green lace underwear set that had fallen underneath the bed and Brooke had stuck in her washer-dryer, the cosy pyjamas that lived under one of Brooke’s pillows folded not-quite-neatly and covered in creases, and a white silk shirt that Vanessa had worn to work and Brooke had peeled off her when they’d arrived home, pressing kisses to her bare collarbones, chest and stomach. Vanessa used to crash her way through the apartment and often Brooke wondered if it was her mission to make as much noise as possible as she loaded the dishwasher, hoovered the living room, sang off-key in the shower. Brooke’s apartment has been so deathly quiet since she left, a funeral sort of quiet. Mournful and still and ghostly and cold.

Sometimes Brooke is sure she sees in black and white.

She remembers the day when they told each other they loved each other for the first time. There had been no ceremony, no grand gestures. In fact the pair of them were watching a film on Brooke’s couch- The Little Mermaid 2, Vanessa eager to force her love of Disney sequels onto her girlfriend. Brooke had looked away from the TV just for a moment, just to see Vanessa’s reaction to whatever was happening on screen, and when she lay her eyes on her she felt that familiar feeling of falling hit her like a wave all over again. It had happened quite a few times that fortnight or so, and the urge to tell her grew with every moment they shared together. Brooke watched her smile like a dork at the TV, the light in her eyes shining and the good in her heart visible just by looking at her. Brooke had laced their hands together, Vanessa taken by surprise and meeting her gaze with a funny sort of smile on her face. Her nose had crinkled up as she’d laughed at her.

“What?”

Brooke had pulled her close and kissed her without saying a word, trying to tell Vanessa without actually telling her anything. She was scared to say it first. She was scared to say it at all.

When Vanessa broke away, she gave Brooke a look that seemed to reach into her soul. Then she looked down at the blanket they’d thrown over them and gave a shy laugh.

“I wanna say something but I’m scared.”

Brooke still remembers the way her heart had beaten right out of her chest. If she tries she can still feel it.

“Say it. Say it, because I want to say it too.”

Vanessa had made eye contact again, her face nervous and hesitant, and Brooke wanted to kiss her fears away but that would have stopped her from saying what she wanted so desperately to hear.

“I love you. I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you.”

Almost as quickly as they’d said it they were pulling each other in, their lips meeting desperately as they melted into each other. And Brooke hadn’t taken her to bed and they hadn’t had passionate, lovestruck sex on the couch. They had sat and kissed on the sofa with the film playing in the background like teenagers, the feeling of being in love communicated without even having to say anything else.

Brooke had finally understood why people in musicals randomly burst into song.

She wishes she had known the last time she’d said it to her would be the final time. She wishes she could say it to Vanessa again. It’s still true. She’s still in love with her. She had fallen so hard.

The trouble with falling is that she had to hit the concrete eventually.

***

Another day goes by and a new one begins. Nicky comes in at half past nine with Brooke’s coffee. Vanessa always used to have it sitting out for her when Brooke arrived, a little heart drawn in the foam with caramel syrup making the coffee too sweet, just like her. Brooke can forgive Nicky, though. She suffered through another sleepless night and she needs the coffee more than she needs a lot of things. Doing her makeup this morning had been like painting a corpse, and Brooke tries not to feel embarrassed as she takes in Nicky’s perfectly painted face in contrast to her own. She thanks her, takes the cup and assumes Nicky will leave.

“Ms. Hytes,” Nicky says, surprising her. She stands in front of her desk, her brow furrowed in concern. “You’re hurting.”

Brooke almost drops her coffee cup in surprise. In days of old she would’ve fired a secretary on the spot for having the audacity to address her in such a way, make such an assumption, but Brooke is tired. She can’t be bothered to deny it, it would take more energy than to simply admit it. She deals in facts, and it is a fact after all. “Yes, Nicky, I am.”

Nicky pouts a little sympathetically. There is a pause in which Brooke assumes she’ll leave. She doesn’t. Instead she speaks again. “Who was the girl that broke your heart?”

Brooke can only blink back at her, her eyelids heavy from lack of sleep. She could tell Nicky to go back to her desk, she supposes, to get on with her work. But she’s in a rare mood to talk about things, so Brooke cracks a small, indulgent smile. “And how do you know it was a girl?”

“Men can’t break hearts like women can,” Nicky says softly, philosophically. Brooke isn’t sure she’s right but she supposes she’s never had any experience with men to disprove the theory. She sighs, nodding.

“Yeah, it was a girl. Her name was Vanessa,” Brooke says, the name feeling too clunky and odd in her mouth where once it had felt like a prayer. “I guess she didn’t break my heart. I broke hers and then by proxy I broke my own. It was a stupid mistake, we had a fight and…things were said that I regret but she still won’t talk to me. And fair enough, why the fuck would she?”

Nicky nods slowly, wraps her arms around herself to give herself a hug. “I have the same. Uh, I am escaping a girl who broke my heart. But even though she hurt me, I still love her. How does that work?”

“Because emotions are stupid and they don’t work in a logical way,” Brooke shrugs instantly. She’s had a lot of time to think about the subject. Looking at Nicky, she can see the pain behind her eyes, the hurt behind the calm facade of her perfect makeup. “Who was your girl?”

Nicky smiles sadly, nostalgia getting the better of her. “She was named Jaida. She was a model, like I used to be. I don’t wish to talk about her much. It’s still sore."

"Yeah. It’s still sore for me too.”

“You say you broke Vanessa’s heart?” Nicky asks shyly. The words are like a stab through Brooke’s chest, confirming the whole thing, validating it. Brooke nods wordlessly. Nicky gives a small laugh. “Then probably she still loves you too. Like me for Jaida.”

Brooke laughs, disbelieving even though she’d be lying if she said Nicky’s words don’t strike even the tiniest bit of hope into her heart. “No, I think that ship has sailed, Nicky.”

Nicky raises her eyebrows, shrugs. “You should call her.”

“Tried that.”

“Well, call her again,” Nicky persists, her voice calm and relaxed despite her insisting. “I wait for my call from Jaida every day."

Brooke feels sad for the young girl. She’s clearly lived so much of her life already at such a young age- she’s from France, but her CV stated that she moved to America to work in the modelling industry, which clearly didn’t work out if she’s making coffee for Brooke. "You should go back into modelling. You’re wasted here.”

Nicky frowns. “I am a waste…of space?”

Brooke laughs at the misunderstanding, waving her hands and shaking her head in protest. It’s the first genuine laugh she’s had in a long time. “No, no, no, no, God no! Wrong expression. Um…you’re too good at modelling to be working as a secretary. You have too nice a face.”

Nicky blushes, making Brooke’s face hot too. She hopes her compliment didn’t come out wrong. Nicky is smiling again, the regret plain on her face. “I would love to, but I would risk meeting her again and I am not ready for that.”

Brooke’s face contorted. “But you want her to call you?”

Nicky sighs, scuffs her foot. “It’s different when you have her in front of you and she’s beautiful."

Brooke shrugs in agreement. "That’s fair enough.”

Nicky lingers, tilts her head thoughtfully. “Can I do anything to help, Ms. Hytes?”

The Parisian lilt to Nicky’s voice makes everything sound like a proposition, even though Brooke doesn’t think she means it. She knows that she could probably have Nicky in her bed by the end of the day if she wanted to- they’re both hurting and broken hearted and yearning to be needed and wanted again, and Nicky is gorgeous but it’s not Nicky she wants. Her porcelain skin just reminds Brooke of Vanessa’s in contrast, her neat blonde hair brushed carefully into its bun reminds her of how wild and loose Vanessa’s used to be, her blue eyes remind her of Vanessa’s dark ones. Brooke shakes her head, gives a tight smile of gratitude. “No, Nicky. Thank you for this, but I think we’d both better get back to work.”

Nicky smiles in agreement, giving a little nod as she exits Brooke’s office and takes a seat back at her desk. Brooke looks at her phone in its place on her desk, reaches out to take it. She scrolls to Vanessa’s name in her contacts and hovers her finger over it, millimetres separating her from potentially hearing her voice again.

She discards her phone onto her desk and opens an email.

***

They had been the best months of Brooke’s life. She couldn’t stop telling Vanessa how much she loved her once she’d started and Vanessa couldn’t seem to either. They were the worst kind of honeymoon phase couple, or perhaps the best. Detox had cooed over them like a mother hen and Brooke had let her guard down a bit at work. Well, a lot. She’d loved being able to show Vanessa off as her girlfriend, she’d loved being able to kiss her throughout the day, squeeze her hand as she showed a new client into her office. They would exchange ridiculously soppy emails during meetings. Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

Brooke has spent so long blaming the business trip, blaming Priyanka, blaming Vanessa, blaming her work, blaming the distance. It was none of them. It was her fault. She did all of it.

Brooke had flown out to Florida for the weekend. There was a conference that her law firm had to attend there, Detox was speaking. Brooke had been looking forward to it as she knew one of her old friends from her Law degree would be there. She hadn’t seen Priyanka in ages; she was still based in Canada and practising there, but they still texted and when they’d found out they were both going Brooke had been excited. Priyanka is one of those rare exes that’s still a friend, their breakup back in their early twenties being a mutual decision, and Brooke knows there’s no attraction there anymore.

But of course, Vanessa didn’t.

Brooke should’ve done more to reassure her, she knows this. If she looks back she can see how agitated Vanessa had been during the leadup to the conference for a full week- biting her perfectly manicured nails, a small frown on her face without her knowing, moments where she’d stare off into space. Vanessa knew about Priyanka (they’d both talked about their exes) but Brooke had told her it had been amicable and mutual. Besides, she told Vanessa how much she loved her every single day. It wasn’t as if Brooke had hidden the fact that Priyanka was going to be there that weekend, or shielded her phone when they’d been texting each other. She’d had nothing to hide.

Brooke almost wishes she had been more secretive now. Maybe it would’ve changed things.

The conference had been fun, even though Brooke now holds it in the same regard as the beginning of a horror movie, the calm before the cyclone. She’d phoned Vanessa when she had arrived, eager to reassure her but she could still hear the worry in her tone, the anxiety. Still, it hadn’t stopped her meeting up for drinks with Priyanka that evening in the hotel bar, laughing and chatting like they’d always used to and doing silly Boomerangs with the cocktails they’d ordered. Brooke told her all about Vanessa and Priyanka was thrilled for her, saying how excited she was to one day meet her. Brooke had got her phone out to show her some photos when Priyanka had looked at her own and gave a little exclamation of surprise.

“Oh! Is her nickname Vanjie?”

Brooke had narrowed her eyes, watching as Priyanka scrolled. “Yeah, why?”

“She’s watched my Insta story already. Doesn’t follow me though. Probably just doesn’t want to be weird,” Priyanka had shrugged. Brooke had shrugged back, offhandedly agreeing but internally embarrassed. She’d known why Vanessa had watched her story- she’d been checking up on her. Brooke hadn’t liked that.

When she’d arrived home, everything gradually came crumbling down, the pair of them slowly removing the Jenga blocks of their relationship one at a time. Their hug had been off when they’d seen each other again, their conversation had been the small talk of strangers. And then it had happened. Vanessa had brought up Priyanka, Brooke had brought up the Instagram stalking. Vanessa had brought up how weird she found it that she still wanted to hang out with an ex, Brooke had defended herself and told her they were only friends. Vanessa had expressed how worried she’d been, Brooke had been hurt.

“When have I ever given you reason to be worried?”

“Well shit, when you met up with your ex for drinks?”

Brooke had hit out, called Vanessa out on her jealousy.

“Well maybe I do get jealous! But it’s only ‘cuz I don’t ever want to lose you, fuck, I just don’t want to think about you with anybody else, that’s all!”

“But you don’t have to! Priyanka is my friend, that’s it, that’s all there is to it!” Brooke remembers how irritated she’d been, how exasperated. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I trust you! Of course I trust you. I just don’t trust her,” Vanessa had sighed frustratedly, pulled another block out.

“Well I’m not going to just not see one of my friends for the rest of our relationship, V!”

“So you’re choosing her over me? That it?” Vanessa had questioned. Brooke still remembers the tears in her eyes. She’d known Vanessa hadn’t meant to say that, she knew Vanessa knew she was being unreasonable. But Brooke had reacted instantly, thinking in absolutes, or perhaps not thinking entirely.

“Fuck, Vanessa, well if it’s that black and fucking white to you then what the hell are we doing anyway?” she’d yelled, the finality still hurting her if she thinks about it. The raised tensions in the room had come to a boiling point. Vanessa had gone quiet.

“What are you saying?”

Brooke had committed and she was still angry, still frustrated. She’d doubled down. “Why the hell are we doing this if there’s no trust in our relationship?”

The realisation had dawned slowly and sickly like tar over Vanessa’s face. “You’re saying you want to break up?”

Brooke hadn’t replied, only stared at the floor. Vanessa had taken it as an answer.

She’d left.

Brooke had regretted it, but she’d known they would make amends. It had just been a silly argument, and things had been said that neither of them meant. She still loved her. They still loved each other. Brooke had given it an hour, waited for her to cool off before she called her to apologise.

Vanessa hadn’t picked up.

Brooke’s still waiting on her to call back.

***

Brooke is ten minutes away from a firm meeting when she gets the text.

V: i’ll be at Rialtos for the next hour

V: your move i guess

She doesn’t even think about the decision, simply acts. She asks Nicky to send her apologies, tell the director that she’s had to go home with stomach pains. If she gets a disciplinary it’ll be worth the risk. She crashes out of her office like a tsunami, her bag and her coat swinging wildly from the crook of her arm. Rialto’s is a five minute walk from her office but she makes it in three even in her stilettos. It’s only when she sees it on the corner on the sidewalk opposite that an overwhelming feeling of panic and sickness hits her like a gut punch. She’s been waiting for this moment for the past month-and-twelve-days (she’s counted), but now that it’s here she almost doesn’t know what to do. She’s never felt nerves like this- all of her nerve endings are buzzing like broken strobe lights and every time her heart beats her whole body feels it. It had been different the first time they were supposed to meet up and talk things out because Brooke had been there first, she could sit for a while and psych herself up. But this time Brooke knows that Vanessa is sitting at a table in the bar just across the street, and all that’s separating them is a busy road, a door and a few steps. Brooke steels herself, forces herself to take a few deep breaths as she checks her reflection in the shop window beside her. She looks a fright: no makeup, sleep-deprived bags under her eyes, the only thing remotely presentable about her is her hair which she threw into a low ponytail that morning. Then again, she supposes that Vanessa’s seen her without makeup before. Brooke thinks Vanessa’s seen every possible version of her, apart from of course this one. She takes another deep breath, turns around and stares the bar down as if she’s going to war.

It’s time.

Brooke dashes across the road and it crosses her mind that perhaps it would be better to just let fate take its course and get hit by a yellow taxi, but that’s the coward’s way out so she reaches the bar entranceway, pushes the door open with a huge, held-in breath. Rialto’s is dark inside with dim red lighting, and so even at four in the afternoon it seems as if it’s midnight. There’s red booths with black lacquered tables that shine under the crimson of the lamps positioned above them and the walls are covered in framed pictures, none of which Brooke takes in because she’s searching, slowly yet frantically as if she’s attempting to both prolong and speed up this whole situation. One booth near to her to her right holds a cheerful couple, another on her far left houses an old man drinking a cup of coffee.

And then she sees her.

She’s got her back to the door but Brooke recognises the wave of her blonde hair, the tie-dye of the oversized hoodie she’s wearing. She recognises the acrylic nails and the chunky rings that pattern the hand that’s curled around what looks like a French martini on the table. A searing, painful memory of their first date at Le Bernardin wrenches Brooke’s heart. She takes another deep breath and walks forward even though she feels like she’s going to be sick. She stops just at the table and the breath is knocked out of her lungs.

Vanessa looks up at her, her face impassive. Her makeup is perfect, but then Brooke wouldn’t have expected anything else. There’s dark roots at her side parting but Brooke thinks she somehow suits them. Apart from that she looks exactly the same, just how Brooke remembers her.

“Hi,” Brooke greets her feebly. Vanessa somehow communicates a shrug through a blink.

“Hey,” she says, taking her hand off her glass to gesture to the seat opposite her. “Sit.”

Brooke nods as she sits down in the red leather seat, and it’s only then that she notices there’s a second cocktail opposite Vanessa. It looks like a pornstar martini, it’s one of Brooke’s favourites.

“I ordered you one. Figured it might make this easier,” Vanessa explains. Her expression doesn’t break. Brooke is touched by the gesture.

“Thanks,” she says. Her hands shake as she reaches out to take the glass, sips at it and feels the sweetness of the vanilla vodka and the tang of the passionfruit coat her dry mouth. Her stomach’s still churning as Vanessa sits regarding her for a moment. Brooke wants to say something. She wants to immediately apologise for it all, even though she’s left twelve voicemails and twenty texts saying the same thing. She wants to ask how Vanessa is, even though that would be the most idiotic of things to say. Eventually she decides to lead with a compliment.

“You look great.”

Vanessa sniffs. “You don’t.”

Brooke takes the hit, supposes she deserves it. “I’ve not been sleeping great.”

“Yeah. Yvie’s mentioned,” Vanessa looks down at her lap, blinks. When she looks up again she’s clearly ready to speak, and Brooke’s heart is in her mouth. “So, we need to talk properly.”

“Yes.”

Vanessa looks down at the table, then into Brooke’s eyes. Brooke can tell she’s having a hard time doing so. “Uh, first off I wanna say sorry.”

The apology knocks Brooke for six. She feels herself frown involuntarily. “For what?”

“Well, it was wrong of me to try an’ make you choose between me and your friend. I knew it was wrong the moment I said it but I was jealous, an’ I was hurt. But that don’t excuse it, so I’m sorry.”

Brooke shakes her head. She’d been annoyed at Vanessa for that at the time, and she’d have maybe appreciated an apology a month ago, but just now it only seems trivial in the grand scheme of things. “Vanessa, you don’t…you don’t need to apologise for this situation.”

Vanessa narrows her eyes at her and there’s a warning look in her gaze, so Brooke drops her protests and shrugs a little. “But I accept your apology.”

Vanessa nods, clearly following some internal script. Brooke is happy to go along with it, to play her part and say her lines, whatever they’re meant to be. She’s so used to immediately taking control of every situation she finds herself in, and even though her stomach feels sick and she feels as if she’s in an interrogation room she doesn’t mind playing the role of the witness and letting Vanessa be the lawyer for a change. She supposes she is on trial in some way.

“Now…I know that you’re sorry, you’ve made that pretty clear, so I don’t want another apology from you,” Vanessa begins, and part of Brooke doesn’t like that because she does want to say sorry, but maybe that’s just for her own benefit and not Vanessa’s. Vanessa sighs as she continues, looks down at her drink and this time doesn’t break eye contact. “But I need you to know how much you hurt me.”

Brooke winces. She realises Vanessa’s waiting for confirmation. “Okay.”

Vanessa pauses, and the breath she takes is shaky before she speaks again. “I…loved you so much, Brooke Lynn.”

The past tense slices Brooke in half.

“I never loved anyone like that before in my life. An’ I always thought you were too good to be true, like somehow one day I’d wake up and our whole relationship would be a dream. I never stopped tellin’ you how lucky I was or how much I appreciated you or how much I loved you. An’ you never stopped tellin’ me either. You made me feel so loved, an’ so precious, an’ so…fuck, sorry.”

Vanessa’s tone grows frustrated, anger layering with the tears Brooke can see in her eyes as she tips her head up, swipes at them like a tiger to wipe them away. Brooke thinks her heart might be breaking again, halves into quarters.

“An’ so that day, when we had that fight,” Vanessa continues, staring steadfastly at Brooke. “All of that, everything we had…it was like it didn’t matter anymore? Like everything we’d shared an’ everything I’d told you an’ everything you’d told me…like, what, that was all for nothing?”

“It wa-”

“Just lemme get this out, please,” Vanessa puts a hand up, stops her. “It was like everything I knew about you was just…nothing. I didn’t know you anymore. An’ I know it was a stupid fight and we shoulda been able to work that shit out, but…I was hurt. I’m still hurting. You hurt me.”

Vanessa stops. She’s done. Brooke wants to cry. She swallows the feeling down before she speaks.

“I behaved like a dick. And I said stupid things, but by the time they were out I couldn’t take them back. I didn’t mean any of it, Vanessa, I just…opened my mouth and said whatever got there first. That’s my fault, I know that. And I know I’ve apologised before but I haven’t had the chance to do it in person, so I’m honestly so sorry for hurting you. For making it seem like our relationship meant nothing to me. Like you meant nothing to me. You mean the world to me, you still do,” Brooke sighs, trying to make the deep breath she takes to stave off her tears subtle. She can’t meet Vanessa’s eyes when there’s tears in her own so she fixes her gaze on the passionfruit half floating in her drink as she continues. “And you don’t have to accept it, just as long as you hear it.”

“I know,” Vanessa says instantly. She looks calmer now she’s said her piece and heard Brooke’s, and she takes a sip from the two little black straws sticking out of the martini glass. She suddenly rolls her eyes, a bitter smile spreading across her face. “Fuck you, Brooke Lynn.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I mean…fuck you for making me still love you. Fuck me for still loving you,” Vanessa sighs, resigned. The words make Brooke’s heart give a leap and she can’t help the smile she instantly tries to suppress and fails. Vanessa narrows her eyes at her, her expression turning serious. “But that don’t mean I forgive you.”

“I know. You don’t have to,” Brooke says guiltily. She thinks about saying it, wonders if it’ll guilt-trip Vanessa and she doesn’t want that, but indulgently and selfishly she says it anyway. “I still love you. I never stopped.”

Vanessa winces as if she’s been shot, her expression instantly turning into one of discomfort and her eyes squeezing shut. Brooke frowns. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologising, Christ. You’re so fuckin’ Canadian,” Vanessa sighs exasperatedly as she puts her head in her hands, and Brooke probably would’ve laughed if she hadn’t been trying to repair the most important relationship of her life so far. Brooke feels awkward and she’s in this conversation without a map, unsure which direction it’s going in.

“Where do we go from here?”

Vanessa drains her glass, foam and syrup all that’s left. She leans back in her chair and folds her arms over. There’s a tiny smile that’s back on her face, and it makes Brooke’s hopes start to climb.

“Well,” she shrugs a little, her guard still up but ever so slightly lowered. “You can start by buyin’ me another drink an’ we can take it from there.”

Brooke nods, grabs her purse and almost sprints to the bar. She orders another French martini and another pornstar- she thinks she’ll be needing it. As she waits for their drinks and the sound of ice in a cocktail shaker cuts through the air, Brooke sneaks a look at Vanessa in the booth. She’s so gorgeous. Brooke’s happy to see her again, despite the circumstances. Just as she makes to turn back around, Vanessa’s head snaps up from the phone in her hand and their eyes meet.

Vanessa’s gaze is soft and the small smile on her face is warm.

Maybe they’re going to be okay.

#rpdr fanfiction #ortega #not a ghost you're in my head #your move #branjie #angst #lesbian au #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #detox #nicky doll #yvie oddly #priyanka

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screechingtrashcalzonewombat · 4 years

Text

"Apopalictic Astral Asending" Reavaluate disassociate my self worth...

The galaxies have birthed an uncontrollable being ....

I've feel as tho Ive seen myself split in two ..

Witch side do u wanna see if ur lucky I'll let you choose .

Cause in the end I loose..

One of hate one of love could both be from up above..

Or down below ...

I've began to show signs of delusions as half my mind goes an tells me it's only mild confusion. As my body fights my brain an heart to escape theys terrible illusions.

Yet the other half tries to start a fusion of body an mind an all the suddently my thoughts are no longer mine..

But a evil so Divine that its wound it's way threw time itself I've fealt the damage the energy dealt. I've yelped in anquish an pain been stuck for 7 long years in the rain with nothing to gain .. I can barely fathom to explain im not fully on earth I'm on another astral plane but i fear i flew out of my lane I've gone insane never wanted fame Ever fealt like bat man I mean oops Bruce Wayne. Nah fuck hes spoiled a wet rat infact I'm more like hulk duck when I'm near i wearly see I'm drowning inside my mind but no one can hear my dear I fear I've lost control again but cant compute I've been booted out of the system I've clawed hit an kicked to try to get to the top but i outta of known I've been ripped an thrown from my throne ive been shown what this beast can do but who woulda thought a demon bought my soul ..a jackal a goul.....you'll see me shift into numbness I suposse it was my own dumbness for being to open now cause of me my body an mind are broken an stole. as I weep an shutter an i try to speak but only stutter I found myself weak in defeat ....as ik this demon reaching its peak will plunder an pillage the town I've found I'm bound to this beast nowhere to run not north south or east I can run it will feast on my soul until the end of time ..

For diamonds cannot compare to the rarity of a soul nor a bowl of Ruby's an jems rolled in gold .....

A bold statement you say........

.. theres no ray of light here they stole it away buried it in your mind but how can u define being locked trapped in yourself ...

You've dealt your own fate ...

Wanting ansers u dint deserve ..

Did you like your just dessert's...no?

Dose it hurt ..... After you itll kill children's childhood freinds like bernie & eart ....whent bizzirk an bashed there brains makeing bloody rains

curking on everyone with cutlery forks an knifes* slice *cook big bird with chives after I've shanked him 900 times... 100 more woulda been devine serve him drink to dry alone cooked an ripped him to the bone but not quite alone u may not be home inside but u can still watch...I thought I taught u better than to close ur eyes dont beg or look surprised look away an I'll adopt another stray to do the same a slow sweet death cure's my hunger anyway

.the wines innocents blood bitter sweet to the taste of the tounge

no one thought it capable I seemed...looked ...so young..

They dint know it had just begun it wasn't me but the evil half committing crime with glee an fleeing repetavidly revealingly images to my mind of times & crimes so sickening I thought I'd die forever scetched seered into my mind .binded with no power as one towers over you using your power you cowar for how dose one define the disasbalment of there an every defined mind while ur inner demon dines on flesh making a mess of your vessel you cant even wrestle your way to the light to stay only break down in defeat that your so far away you've became an internal mess cant even stand on ur feet the beast has u chained in defeat u cry an apologize looking for answers as of how to stop.....an then...you hear a voice .." you outta stayed silent instead of talk back. U shouldn't of complained do u still think ur life used to be pain...... . Ur a sack of shit ur wit is less than that of an ant not to rant but I'm not done yet I have ur soul now I'm never letting go no no no I have plenty more so much to show many souls to reap an emotions to subdue after all u said yes.....

...did you forget ur the one who started this.

mess ......you dressed your mind with fantasy an fiction word to the wise never mess with other worldly friction an your itching for a way out but I doubt ull get there before the end of time .after all you had a devil an an angel on ur shoulder an you chose wrong this time. Only took 666 times but I'm patient an always waiting for 6 years hating an burning flesh waiting for a prayer a call after all Lucifer was once an angel an the most beautiful you just dint get to see from what angle he had beauty wrath an determination but u humans resulted in his isolation incarsorason. So now we will end up being humanity's enialation when were done there entire selves with evaporate for the demons have released self hate to pro create creatures in confidence we annihilate the fate of the human race at least the trace slight like us able to bust threw dementions so weve mentioned a start to find the inordinary soul an heart ......humanity was doomed from the start.. you stole our purpose our reason to be......humans sit in sin an glee.

Your humanitys Pride is overbearing never genuinely caring ..

Greed is sweeping the nation its reached ever state an it's got a hot heaping plate of corruption for mankind's consumption greed is grotesque in its steps of the darkest quest to corupt ur mind an want. .want..want until that's all you are is wanting more

Lusting over losely draped garments you've tarnished ur soul .

Envy of what you do not posses but for all you know that information an life would make you a mess but ud still test ur envious tendencies.....

Glutton glutton what have you gained it's not knowledge no for it's to plain rather glutton uve found a urge that wont go away....

Wrath an vengeance blood draw too no one stops till some dies him or you....

Sloth last but not least cant forget you cause uuuh wait what that fuck do u do....you sleep an sulk sit slither out of simple tasks an that's why ur not 1st no ur last like humanity just ask ....

So soon the day will draw near the the number 4 is what you should fear our dear old freinds were sending up for a visit so they can reddit ur fate for each a horse an a trait the first out the door with bow in hand riding a white horse with bow in hand

Conquest the start of the final test leading the restthere dark version of light on a white stallion he leads the way an soon will follow hades anyway.

War was next on a red steed he rode prepared to purge an quench new blood for the wars an battels would just begin brother against brother an close of kin witch to win?

Famine foe of all on a black horse with the courses hair so fair merely bone but dont let his appearance fool you hes for he is full devouring your greed taking away everything you want or need an now ur rationed to nearly starvation stretching farther than destination world wide sensation...

Pleage reaper of souls slowly apears steadly trotting riding a very sickly steed looking pale an almost gruesome green with sores an sickness best keep a distance. For he shall be the bringer of death an reap you all one by one to the four you shall fall...

Will you be spared are you true....

Are you happy with your life what did you do...?

Rapture no you still must die.....

Say good by to this earthy chapter theres so much more that manifest after.

But only your earthly husk must rust an fall your all energy of grate mass....

It's time to take the task of self evolvment an enjoy an enlightened installment

this world was just step wrench ur third eye wide open an accept the token of eternal life.

Grinded it to atoms a flash of dust all together ur a self fulfilling must memory pass u in a rush.....

. sudently ur bodysuit is gone ....

But it dint felt like it quite belonged.

You were 7 grams of light matter to be exact an sudently you've cracked the atmosphere ..steering energetic waves my metal psyche caves to the new information flying threw stars consolations.

Suddently speeding at the sound of light the stratosphere seems to disapear ..

My fear is gonewithout a trace an freedom transferred in its place

but am waved in infatuation to find out about out true destination...

Restoration of the soul the goal of a higher self being achieved as I crash into the sun 1500°

I feel a warmth like no other each being hues of light I might of missed earth if not I heard a voice but a mental push no need for speech just thinking it shall be done said by the the brightest in the sun.

Rejoice at last but ur journeys yet to pass ..

This is merely were you start ....

Our flames grew high with frantic waves not wanting to give up the new life we were just gave

Suddenly our flames grew dim as we felt a swirling deep from withn sudently the surface of the sun turned to tin an bent in a cracked an caved with itself our time an space sending us ascending in alignment the same assignment.

Because the sun has begun to change ina twisted way a black hole some could say.

As all of our astral beings were ripped an tore apart at the seams we all merged an formed one all knowing creative being an sudently everything I've know has little matter I'm past a point of human chatter i understand infinity the holy trinity I down in the milky way an experienced every life I've relived it twice I've spliced my genetics into over 2000 million beings I've seen good an bad in between experienced every tragedy to build my strength an studyd every thesis an theory thread an chain nearly drove my vessel insane even took knifes threw my veins in anger yet it failed I was just a trailer.ive seen love hate an anger

Comprehension compasing many others I have love an understanding past many beings there anger seems to brush by me cause I'm with 2000 souls an minds that have formed one to reach a state I can medidate in the milky way an force your negative away .

Our astral self has accumulated complete power an understanding by costuming to our full potential our old body's merely a rental.

Gentle at first then bursted into power showered in knowledge I know now much that I wondered before but now I want more an I've thought till I an 2000 shared beings head hurt cause my girth of knowledge will now never be enough it's tough cause now I must find .... how to ascend again but for now i must defend my vast mind defind crime ...?

Keeping 2000 vast voices locked away so I can focus an try to learn anyway leaning in to vast places is I the 1st 2nd or 3rd or other many plains I cant quiet place I'm traveling threw them all searching for everything I couldn't before .

This life isent like the countless other this life I like it has interesting teathers

I've surpass Angel's an there feathers an vison of a hawk.

I've surpass demonds and there demonic temping talk ..

I've walked on water as I was ripped apart an I felt my self rebuilt every cell of my being got hit with rods of power lightning not even myself can fight me god like abilities the universe as built in me theres ben a spiritual shift a tilt in me somthing generations of DNA sprawled out in a numerical display my old life experiences is the price I pay so that I can be god even if only for a day

I think I'll sit an think somewere in the outter spink of the universe I've cursed myself with knowledge an now I'm aware step into my astral space....

If you dare...

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thedragonagelesbian · 5 years

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fellas is it gay to get into a fight with a stranger who had the nerve to tell u that drowning urself in negativity isnt the radical praxis u think it is, and realize that the anger you experienced in that moment was the first time you had felt something in years so you abandoned every part of ur old life just so u could go w him on his road trip to california bc he makes you Feel Things Again

#someone is thinking about their ocsssssssssss #its not quite enemies to lovers but its kind of close #just... hardness giving way to softness and sweet tender healthy love!!!

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meteora-writes · 7 years

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sry im anon but i came to req a trick fic heheheheheheehe (im dying of thirst there is not enough trick content in this world!!!!) anyway!!! can u do a fic where troy is really nervous about getting w nick and nick tries to guide him thru whatever’s troubling him? it can be smut or fluff or both or hell it can be angst idc!!! i just need nervous virgin troy who doesnt know how to deal w positive emotions in my life (rly love ur writing btw ive read like everything uve wrote for these boys)

I got you, sweetie! And I’m gonna go ahead and set this at the Bazaar because Troy was so cute while he was high and freaking out.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Nerves

Paring: Troy Otto x Nick Clark

Warnings: Recreational Drug Use, Angst, Anxiety, First Kisses

~~~~~~~~~~~

Troy felt like his heart was pounding out of his chest. Like he was dying but also more alive than he’d ever been in his entire life.

The herd of walkers had long since passed, but he was still standing in the middle of the abandoned street clinging to Nick for dear life. The other man had his face pressed into Troy’s shoulder now, his arms just as tight around Troy’s body as Troy’s were around his.

“Nick… Nick, we can’t stay here… We gotta go..” He finally managed to say, voice just above a whisper as he looked around wide eyed.

Nick just turned his face so he was speaking against Troy’s throat. “I can’t go back.. Please don’t make me.” He begged, lips brushing against the sensitive skin above Troy’s pulse point.

A shiver ran through Troy’s body at the feel of Nick’s lips. The drugs in his system made him feel everything more intensely, and that scared him almost as much as being high did. “We can’t stay out here, the dead…” He trailed off when Nick’s lips suddenly brushed his neck again, but this time in a line of sloppy kisses.

Suddenly Nick was holding his face between his hands and placing a kiss on Troy’s shock parted lips. When Troy didn’t react Nick pulled away, blinking in confusion. “I’m sorry, Troy… I thought.. Never mind, let’s just go..” He said, carefully starting to pull away from Troy.

Troy didn’t let Nick go, still holding onto him tightly. “You kissed me…” He said, voice awe struck as he stared at Nick like a deer caught in headlights. His head was spinning now. Nick had really kissed him.

“Yeah, I did. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.” Nick rambled, looking around a bit wildly before locking eyes with Troy again.

“I’ve never…” Troy mumbled, not sure what to do now but look down at Nick’s lips. He didn’t want Nick to feel sorry, and he didn’t want to forget it. If anything, he wanted more, and that thought scared the hell out of him.

“Never what?” Nick asked, blinking at Troy in confusion before looking at where Troy still had one arm around his shoulders and a hand on his neck. When he looked up again Troy was no longer looking down but looking into his eyes. “Was that your first kiss?”

Swallowing hard, Troy nodded. He grew up on a ranch with people that were either family, or close enough to be called family regardless of relations. There was literally no dating pool for him. So yeah, he’d never been kissed, or anything else for that matter.

Troy felt his heart rate skyrocket with the smile Nick gave him then. His stomach twisted into knots when Nick pulled him close so their bodies were flush against one another.

“You want me to show you how?” Nick asked, tone playful as he tilted his head to bring their lips about an inch apart.

Troy’s breath hitched in his throat at Nick’s words. Not trusting his voice to cooperate, he gave a small nod.

Nick just grinned and with that he was kissing Troy again.

Now that Troy had known it was coming, he hesitantly returned the kiss. He tried to mirror Nick’s movements, but his nerves were running so high he couldn’t quite focus.

Eventually Nick pulled away, blinking at Troy. “You really have never done this before, have you?”

“Never.” Troy managed to say after clearing his throat and licking his lips. “Sorry..”

“Hey, don’t be sorry. We can take this slow, okay? Maybe try again when we’re not out of our minds?” He suggested with another grin.

Troy found himself nodding, because hell yes he wanted that. “You seriously wanna do this with me?” He asked before he could think otherwise.

A chuckle escaped Nick’s lips and he started to pull Troy in the direction of the Bazaar. “Yes, seriously. Now come on, let’s sneak back into the Bazaar and find a place to crash. We’ll talk about this when you’re sober.”

Now Troy was laughing. “Yeah, and you’ll have changed your mind by then.” He said cynically.

Nick stopped and turned to face Troy. “You really think I’d do that to you, after everything we’ve been through?” He asked

“Maybe…” Troy said, nerves making him look anywhere but at Nick.

Nick huffed a breath before grabbing Troy’s face between his hands and kissing him again. When he pulled away he let his forehead rest against Troy’s as he spoke again. “Troy, I want to be with you. But not when we’re both high out of our minds and you’re too nervous to enjoy it. So, we’ll pick this up later, alright?”

Troy nodded, smiling before giving Nick a quick kiss on the lips. “Yeah, alright.” He said, nerves settling a little.

They made their way back to the bazaar, and even though he was scared out of his mind, he curled up on a pile of blankets with Nick as they both came down from their high. The two of them stayed like that until they fell asleep in the early morning light.

#troy otto #troy x nick #troy otto x nick clark #nick clark x troy otto #nick clark #nerves #my writing #recreational drug use #high troy otto #high nick clark #angst #fluff #drug abuse #fear the walking dead #first kiss

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nikie2571 · 5 years

Text

Prologue: Maradalel

Danda—el was concerned.

Well, rather, his wife was concerned. But Modara being concerned made him concerned, so Danda—el was concerned. She had been feeling off for a few days in a way she couldn’t explain and was worrying about the bright spark of life she carried inside her.

So, because there was really no other way to help, Danda—el sent for a healer to come to check on his wife. She was due to arrive soon, and Danda—el couldn’t help feeling nervous as he sat in the dining room. Orange and chartreuse splotches danced over his skin stiffly, openly displaying his anxiety.

A knock on the stone doorway interrupted his worrying. Slowly, Danda—el got up, still too nervous to really move fast, and walked over to the door. Pulling open the wooden boundary revealed the orange dotted face of the healer, who had a timid smile presented as her expression.

“Ah! Greetings, Danda—el. I hope I’m not late?” She asked.

“No, no, you’re right on time Doctor,” Danda—el replied, waving a hand to invite her inside.

Danda—el guided the healer through the house to the bedroom, where Modara was resting. She looked every bit the 6 months pregnant that she was, her currently blotchy orange skin stretched over her bare abdomen. The healer moved to sit on a stool on one side of the bed while Danda—el stood across from her.

The healer lifted her hands silently, not bothering with an explanation, and letting the glow of magic surround her hands. Gently, she then placed her hands upon Modara’s belly, letting the soft light grow to surround it. A moment later though, her skin which was previously pale white changed to an alarming mix of cyan and green, though she did not stop her magic.

“What is it? What’s wrong!?” Modara demanded, her skin completely orange and voice full of panic.

“Y-your child... No, your s-son…” The healer trailed off into a mumble. “He’s formed… wrong.”

Danda—el felt a small part of himself die.

The healer turned to face him, her skin swiftly changing to blue, displaying her pity openly.

“I’m so sorry, but, I’ve never seen something this disturbing,” she said, her eyes wet.

The healer dropped her magic, stood up, and walked out of the room. When she reached the boundary she turned back and said, “I won’t be requiring payment from you. And again, I’m so sorry.” She then left.

Danda—el didn’t know what to think. In an instant, his whole world had crumbled, leaving only loss and confusion behind.

“Modara… Kim stanav no—u halla?” He asked. What are we to do?

Modara didn’t answer. Tears flowed down her cheeks as her skin morphed to completely blue.

“Ta nesetat stana hidoma pan uv mienas,” she requested, her voice flat. I need to be alone for a while.

So, Danda—el left. Denying her would have done no help.

Danda—el thoughtlessly wandered into the dining room, sat upon a chair and where he sank in on himself, letting his sorrow run free through him.

He had been so excited for this child ever since the Guardian, Lady Atreva, had granted them a fortune, a line of foretelling. It had described their child as full of potential and wonderfully, endlessly alight. And now it would never be. So Danda—el mourned for the child, the son he had but likely would not ever see alive.

But then it occurred to him, the Guardian had told them a future that didn’t come true. The Guardian alone was responsible for his sorrow.

Slowly, Danda—el felt his spirit lift as an idea formed in his mind, a way for his son to be just as amazing as he originally thought.

----

Finding out which city the Guardian of travels currently residing in had been tough. Though her church in the city had an attendant at all times, it had taken a very long conversation to get the information out of him.

Danda—el didn’t like that the attendant had been male. Andatamel men were soldiers and builders, not church-folk. But, Danda—el had no place in questioning a Guardian’s choice.

The journey to the Human city where Atreva was residing hadn’t been long, but it had been drawn out by Modara’s condition, both physical and emotional. Still, eight days after leaving they both stood in front of a new church, one far more ornate than any they had seen back in their own city.

Danda—el turned to his wife. “Enkana la belanat halla meran?” He asked. You still want to do this?

Beneath her cloak, her skin was a mix of colours: orange, blue, red.

“On.” Yes.

Danda—el took her hand and walked into the church. There were no worshippers here, only attendants milling about the chamber as the giant serpent at the other end slept.

“Are you here for an audience with the Guardian of Travels?” One of them asked, a male human with bronze skin. His ears were pointed like an Andatamel, a result of where he had gotten his magic.

Danda—el nodded.

“Then come with me, I will wake the Lady,” he said.

The couple followed the attendant, stopping between the 2 stone altars meant for gifts. The attendant walked right up to the Guardian and laid a hand upon her massive body.

“My Lady, there are two Andatamelians here to see you,” he said with a gentle voice.

Slowly, the curves of the wrapped snake started to move, the constant gentle aura of a guardian beginning to glow as she rearranged her whole length to a new position. Watching it was like watching a wall move like water, rippling and shimmering and beautiful.

Finally, her head emerged from the depths of her coils, her bright cyan eyes staring straight into Danda—el.

“Who approaches me?” The Guardian said, her voice not coming from her mouth, but settling in Danda—el’s mind like a drop of water in a pond.

“We are Danda—el and Modara,” Danda—el began, “we come from the Andatamel city of Dammaga, where 3 months ago you granted me and my wife a fortune of foretelling, telling us that our children would be strong and gifted and oh so endlessly filled with light.”

Danda—el paused for a moment, letting his rage build as he prepared for his next words.

“You lied to us that day!” Danda—el exclaimed. “Our unborn son was seen to by a healer recently, and her very face told us that our son is not even healthy, let alone strong! So, we are here to demand you repay us for your lies!”

The serpent stared for a moment, her aura flowing like waves around her.

“I see,” she said, words cool and level. “Well then, Modara of Dammaga, come forth and let me see if your husband’s words ring true.”

Modara approached the Guardian slowly, orange dancing over her skin like living firelight. When she was close enough the guardian reached out with her tail and gently touched it to Modara’s belly, her whole being quickly being surrounded with the aura of detecting magic. Atreva’s head tilted slightly as she examined Modara, as if pleasantly surprised. She then dropped the magic and spoke with a tone that spoke with volumes of meaning.

“Your child is fixable.”

Danda—el’s heart soared and Modara began to cry.

“But first,” the Guardian stated, “I need to decide my half of the bargain.”

Slowly, the Guardian’s tail reached over to one of her attendants, grabbing a bundle from their arms.

“You will raise the child I give you, no matter their faults,” the Guardian said. “You came this far out of concern for your child, and I commend you for that, but you ask me to change something fundamental about him. So, you will do nothing if the child I give you is nothing like what you expect.”

“Of course,” Modara said.

Atreva stared at Modara for a moment, seemingly lost in thought.

“What would you have named your son?” She eventually said.

Cyan covered Modara’s skin. “I… Andale, if it was a boy,” she replied. Great light.

Atreva’s eyes closed and she nodded. “Very good,” she said.

Atreva then brought forth the bundle she held in her tail.

“This is Mara, she was abandoned here, as she made no sound upon her birth. I am going to heal her.”

The child was clearly not an Andatamel. Though she was not old enough to display any antlers, she lacked the requisite white hair.

Danda—el’s blood boiled and red streaked across his skin.

“What!” He yelled. “We came here for you to heal our child, not this human.”

The Guardian turned a judging glance to him, her cyan eyes probing deep into him.

“Soon, she will be your child,” she said.

Danda—el was too angry and too confused to understand, he could only fume.

Atreva reached her tail out to Modara once more, wrapping the human girl and Modara in her coils. Then, she began to glow with an intense bright golden light. Danda—el had to look away, waiting till it faded.

When the light faded, the human girl was gone, leaving only cloth and Modara, looking scared and lost.

“As my final order,” the Guardian said. “You will name your child Maradalel, joined lights.”

Danda—el felt his rage peak, angrier that he had ever been before.

“You’ve defiled my son, you snake!” He yelled, the insult falling from his mouth like a stone. “You have mixed him with a human. With a girl! You’ve made him into a freak.”

Atreva turned to Danda—el and looked at him with her cool and treacherous eyes.

“I have done no such thing Danda—el of Dammaga. So cool your anger, for without me, you would have lost him anyway.”

#Nikkie writes things

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