#omg big polarization about therapy

[s-4pphics]

scent of the pine. 1 (e.w.)

omg i finally wrote something who woulda thought gosh golly damn hey yall whos gay around here

wc;cw: 9.6k mmmm, sistersbestfriend!ellie, guitarist/producer!ellie, violinist!oc, so many time skips and theyre not even done yet omg, queer duh, all ocs r black coded<3, mentions of underage smoking/drinking(nics n weed obv), partying, making out, blood(it’s fake but still), all tlou kids appear including *gasp* cat, lots of ocs theyre gonna thrive in later chaps, depression, anxiety, disassociation, crack(it’s not all bad yall laugh a little!!), mentions of therapy, uh yeah just alot of sad and drama, smut in later chaps🤭🤭

You have always been surrounded by music. 

When you were born, your mother quieted your screams with song, holding you close to her chest and gently whispering words of affection and love into your ears while your three-year-old sister jumped in celebration for new life. 

When you were two, your mother gave you your first ever violin toy. Your sister had taken a large interest in the flute at age four, saying that the whistling noises sounded like birdies! and she wanted to give you the same exposure. It could have been sheer luck or her maternal instincts, but you quickly became attached to it. It was small and inexpensive and hardly sounded like a violin, but its bright lights and animated face near the scratched, poorly painted F-holes entranced you like no other. You couldn’t stop fiddling with the red, blue, and green buttons across the body, and every time it played the same robotic instrumental, you waved your arms around with the biggest smile on your face, like you could fly away from elation. Your sister would sometimes jump in and blow into her months old pink recorder while the instrumental played from your toy, imagining you were a part of a world-renowned orchestra: the musical harmony between the two of you brought your mother joy. 

When you turned three, your mom and sister invited over some of her friends to help make cupcakes topped with musical notes for your special day. You sat on the couch with your favorite toy in hand as the instrumental played, jumping up and down on the cushion from pure excitement. Your sister’s friends kept you entertained while your mother prepared dinner, banging together pots and pans with wooden spoons and dancing, imagining them as drums. All four of them made you laugh with jokes, sang to you—one of them even played a song on one of her miniature, bright green guitars— and allowed you to experience some of the joys of life through symphonic expression.

When you were four, your mother noticed differences in your behavior. She noted that you and your sister were polar opposites: she was outspoken, unapologetic, and animated, while you were shy, polite, and timid. You hardly ever spoke unless spoken to, and though no one around you judged you for it, your mother often wondered what went on in your head. Despite your lack of communication, she never doubted the fire inside you: she saw it in your eyes whenever you watched footage of some of the most famous names in the classical world play their hearts out. When you were five, she signed you up for violin lessons.

When your big sister turned eight, she and her friends' released screams of excitement when she revealed her very first flute. She jumped in excitement, —mostly out of relief that she wouldn't have to berate you and your mom with the shrilling bleats of her old, pink recorder— shrieking about how she and her friends should start a band as soon as possible.“How the hell would a trumpet player fit in a rock band, you idiot?” You remembered your sister's best friend, Ellie, saying quietly so your mother wouldn’t hear from the kitchen, earning a playful shove from Jesse, your next-door neighbor. The dark-haired girl, Dina—who lived two houses down and had a large obsession with slapping her mother’s keyboard in the middle of the night—bursted into a fit of giggles while pointing at the young boy, making him blush. 

You were always very observant of your sister's friends. You didn’t have many opportunities to make some of your own due to your incessant need to isolate, so you managed with what you had. They intrigued you: they were loud, lively, and exuberant. They never shied away from demonstrating their talents to you or your mom, especially the green-eyed, auburn-haired girl that almost always had her father’s black acoustic guitar strapped around her small frame on the three-block walk to your house. You remembered when she brought the guitar to school to play for the other students during lunch time, which landed her in after-school detention after she scolded one of her teachers for confiscating it, claiming that they were “limiting creative expression” and telling them to “screw themselves”. 

When Ellie’s father, Joel, came to pick up your sister's friends from her party, Ellie jokingly pinched your side and threw you a quick see ya, squirt! while her and her two friends laughed and waved their way out of your front door. Your face ran hot as you watched them—her—leave. You didn’t get to reply before they ran down your porch in a heap of giggles. Watch the road, nuggets! I don’t have life insurance! You remembered Joel calling out to them as they sprinted across the street. 

When you turned eight years old, your mother gave you your very first authentic violin and bow, the black case wrapped in glittery, floral paper. As usual, your sister and her friends grabbed and shook your shoulders out of excitement and anticipation of seeing you play since they never have, which you politely declined. You have always shied away from revealing your natural talent due to your scalding fear of embarrassment, resulting in only your mother and violin teacher knowing your abilities. You blushed as your sister, Jesse, and Dina pressed on, pleading that you play at least a couple of chords for them, causing Ellie to playfully come to your defense with a high-spirited squeal of she’s shy, you heathens! leave her be before I kick all your asses! 

From that moment on, you always looked up to Ellie and her comfortability with herself. You never thought that you would meet someone more confident than your sister, but Ellie had her beat for miles. Regardless of where she was or what she did, she moved with a confidence that you only dreamt of having at that age. You wanted so desperately to mimic her, but that annoying voice of doubt never failed to remind you of your place. You made sure your light was dimmed, always. 

When your sister was twelve, she began to take music very seriously. She went from two flute sessions a week to five, only to return home and play some more. She’d even performed in some of her school's recitals (she vomited across the stage during her first performance, but a victory is a victory). You watched your mother scold her about not completing her homework as she stood practicing in the living room while you silently ate your dinner, which led to her half-heartedly completing her assignments with a frown on her face. Over the next year and a half, your sister's scolding started to get more intense as her grades dropped. She was never much of a scholar, but she never let her grades slip under as much as they had then. Although her music teacher was sending her home with nothing but praises after every lesson, your mom often received letters in the mail from your sister's school saying that her performance was concerning. You’d heard your mother reprimand her countless times, saying you’re not going to survive high school like this! look at what you’re doing! while your sister claimed I know exactly what I’m doing, I want to be better! I’m following my dreams! why aren’t you proud of me? They had exchanged more harsh words until you heard your sister's door slam shut and your mothers silently resigned to her room in defeat. 

You heard your sister’s cries through your shared wall for a while, until a gentle voice—Ellie’s, you recognized—consoled her and told her to calm down until her whimpers silenced. You knew she had a habit of secretly climbing up into your sister's window to hang out when your mom didn’t allow company over, but you didn’t know that she also always showed up when your sister needed another source of comfort. You slowly got up and left your room, silently walking down the hall until you reached your sister's door. You wanted to knock and see if she was okay, but before you could do so, the door opened and out walked Ellie, clad in her usual dark jeans and T-shirt, bracelets covering her wrists in mass, and dirty, scuffed chucks and socks in hand. She jumped slightly when she witnessed someone waiting behind the door, but instantly relaxed when she realized it was you. 

“Hey, squirt. Why are you creepin’ behind the door like that?” She whispered with a small chuckle, gently shutting your sister’s door. 

“Sorry.” You whispered back. “I heard her crying and I wanted to check on her. How is she?” 

“She’ll be fine. She got a headache and fell asleep. I was just tucking her in, don’t worry.” She gently said, looking down at you. “I was just about to head out. Mind lockin’ the front door for me?” 

“Why don’t you just leave out the window again?” 

She snorted before she asked, “Dude, do you know how hard it is to climb down that rickety ass ladder you guys have outside? I almost broke my neck climbing down that thing in that storm last month.” 

You quietly laughed alongside her while she bent down to put her socks back on. “What are you doing up anyway? It’s late and you have class tomorrow.” 

“So do you.” You said, raising an accusatory brow at her. “Plus, I'm not tired, I’m bored.” 

“I’m not tired”, she said mockingly. “What do you wanna do right now?” 

“Don’t you have to be home soon?” 

She waited a second before a mischievous smirk creeped on her face, “Yeah, but who cares. C’mon.” 

She grabbed your wrist before quickly pulling you back into your room and gently shutting the door behind you. She took note of your room: pink and purple everything. Your walls were drenched in white and pink stripes with giant, iridescent, butterfly stickers, your bedspread had small specks of glitter sprinkled across it, which shimmered from your pink and green fairy lamp. You had a small tv propped up on your dresser, which was covered in fairy and Disney princess stickers, at the front of your room. She couldn’t help but snicker at the mountain of plushies that crowded your bed and nightstand. However, she halted when she noticed a small glass case that held two violins with their bows. She recognized the first one: a gift from your mother on your eighth birthday that had lost some shine, and another, much glossier and more tuned than the latter. It looked barely used. A small burst of joy exploded in her chest at the thought of you playing even though she had never seen it. She was happy to know that your love for music still lived. 

“Your room’s cute, dude, it’s making my skin crawl like crazy, holy fuck,” she said with a soft laugh, leaning back against your door. 

“Don’t make fun of me, you freakin' metalhead! It’s pretty in here and I like it,” you said begrudgingly, “Your room's scary!” 

She let out a loud laugh before she acknowledged your glass-guarded instruments, “You still play?” 

She nodded towards your protected instruments. You nodded from your bed and excitedly said, “Yeah, come sit! I never had a slumber party before!” 

You spent the night quietly watching Peter Pan, gossiping about how in love you were with him and how you wished you could fly. Ellie silently watched you talk with curious, wide eyes as you went on tangent after tangent. You talked about movies you loved and boys you liked (which she playfully gagged at), and music you liked to listen to when you were sad, and she internalized all of it. She had never seen this side of you before, but she was so intrigued that she didn’t notice her own intensity in her own eyes. You just kept going and going before you abruptly stopped, the brightness in your eyes dimming slightly as you looked at her. 

“Sorry for talking a lot,” you said, embarrassed. “Am I annoying?” 

“‘Course not, squirt,” she said confused, but immediately. “Why the hell would you think that?” 

You didn’t say anything, but her affirmation reignited the fire in your eyes as your rambles started up again. She let you talk until you sloppily fell asleep across your pillows and plushies, tv still quietly playing in the background. She gently got up from her position, careful not to wake you, pulled your blankets over your frame, and stealthily left through your sister’s window. She made her way back home, envisioning you playing your violin for her one day. 

Ellie became the person that you turned to whenever you needed reassurance. She’d never failed at making you feel acknowledged and seen and heard. 

Age thirteen was the first time you anticipated the summer. Middle school had been a very disconnected period for you, and though many of your peers had experienced a sense of helplessness through these trine times of adolescence, yours was slowly overtaking your ability to feel excitement for anything. You had become so detached to the world around you and that annoying, discouraging voice had only spurred on your distance. This dark state that you entered caused you to separate from everyone, including your own family. Your last day of eighth grade was the giddiest you had felt in a long time, and you couldn’t wait to get back to your place of solitude—home. 

Your sister entered her element in high school. Much to your mother’s delight, she was able to find a balance between fulfilling her dreams as a musical prodigy while staying afloat academically. 

You had been attending your violin lessons for eight years, and though you were blessed with your musical perception, —according to your teacher—you never played in front of an audience. Though your teacher was eager to put you in the children’s orchestra that he trained, your mother did not want to push you into something you weren’t ready for, so she'd always decline politely. 

In July, Dina invited you and your sister over to a pool party. Her parents were going to be out for the weekend, and she thought that it’d be the perfect time to be reckless. When you and your sister walked in with your towels and snacks in hand, she greeted you both with an excited squeal, beckoning you both to the backyard. Ellie, Dina’s older sister, Talia, and a few older girls that you didn’t recognize, were already in the water, splashing and laughing. 

“Look who just arrived, cunts! My babies, my angels, the lights of my life— “

“Ay, shut the fuck up!” the blonde-haired girl yelled with a grin, causing Dina to flip her off and the others to laugh. 

You modestly held your folded towel in your hand, smiling at their interaction. Your sister had already discarded her towel, shorts, and flip flops on a random beach chair before she cannonballed into the pool, causing everyone to swear and splash her. Dina then jumped in right behind her with a shout. They all blended so well, and you curled into yourself. Maybe you should go—

“Get over here, squirt! It’s hot as fuck out here,” Ellie shouted out with a smile, before a girl in a black bikini playfully jumped on her back, planting a light kiss on her shoulder. Something unfamiliar panged in your chest, but you nodded and slipped off your flip flops before making your way over to the pool stairs, slowly submerging yourself into the water. 

“You’re still calling her squirt like she’s four, cut it out already,” Dina called out with a snort before she addressed you.

“I’m not sure if your sister ever mentioned anything about these losers but they’re some friends from school, that’s Cat, Abby, and Riley,” she said and pointed them out, “and they’re really fucking annoying—

“Shut the hell up before I drown you,” said Abby with a straight face.

“Yeah, keep talking to me like that— “ 

“ANYWAYS,” Ellie interrupted, “We missed you kid, where ya been?” 

“Just at home, nothing crazy. I’m glad to finally be out, though.” I think I’m depressed, please don’t notice. 

“She’s lying, I nearly had to drag her ass outta bed by her feet to detangle her hair this morning,” your sister corrected with an over dramatic eye roll. 

“I’m just tired,” you said meekly. “School was hard these past two weeks.” 

“I bet it was! Literally no one ever talks about how crazy middle school is! I damn near backflipped off the stage at our promotion,” Riley commented with a head shake, making Abby aggressively nod her head in agreement. 

As the side conversations continued, your attention was overtaken by Ellie, who had moved to the opposite side of the pool to whisper something into the short-haired girl’s—Cat, who hasn’t acknowledged you yet—ear, which made her giggle and half-heartedly push Ellie away. The green-eyed girl didn’t budge, wrapping her arms around the girl's waist, pulling her closer and, much to your surprise, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. Cat had a tight grip on Ellie’s olive-green rash guard as she held her and shared soft whispers that you wished you heard. Was that her girlfriend? you thought. You knew Ellie liked girls due to her almost two-year long crush on Riley, which she confided in you and your sister about when she was fourteen. She had wildly knocked on your sister’s window in the middle of the night with a tear-stained face, frantically pacing and claiming that something was wrong with her. 

Why the fuck do I want to kiss her and hold her hand whenever I see her?

This is bad, this is really really bad, guys, something’s wrong! 

What do I do, how do I stop this! 

You had never seen her so defeated, and her wet cheeks and scared eyes made your chest hurt with a sharp stab. Your sister had pulled her into a tight hug and quietly hummed a tune in her ear to soothe her sobs, while you gently rubbed her back and told her that she was going to be okay. She ended up staying the night, dozing off while holding one of your sister’s stuffed animals close to her chest while the two of you held her from both sides. You and your sister hadn’t slept in the same bed since she was six. 

As the party slowly died down and Talia, who snuck away to her room much earlier, beckoned everyone inside with a get outta the pool you freaks! you’re gonna prune! from the back door, you all resigned inside to rinse off and change clothes before heading to the living room to watch a scary movie. You silently smacked on your sour gummy worms on the lone lounge chair as you watched Abby, Riley, and your sister cower behind pillows to block the screen while Dina snored loudly, while Cat and Ellie snuggled on a lounge chair. She had her chin propped up on the dark-haired girl’s head to see the screen while she rubbed her back. 

As the film progressed, you saw the couple making small movements out of the corner of your eye. Cat began to subtly plant soft kisses on her cheek, neck, and shoulder, causing the auburn-haired girl to smirk, moving her head to the side to give her more access. You saw Ellie pull her girlfriend’s shirt up slightly, rubbing the exposed skin on her hip. You seemed to be the only one who noticed as the girls on the other couch squealed at another jump scare. Ellie and her girlfriend shared a more intense kiss, and you saw a glistening tongue poke out. That made you avert your gaze and you blushed, embarrassed that you were catching such an intimate moment. You quickly got up with a quick excuse of I gotta pee, making your way to the bathroom down the hall. Your face was boiling, and your heart pounded in your chest as you soaked your hands with icy water before wiping them down your face, that voice in the back of your head asking what the fuck your problem was. 

You slowly looked up at your reflection in the mirror to center yourself, but your vision started to blur, and hands began to shake. You tried to take deep breaths; you tried you tried you tried but the air left your lungs as quickly as it entered. 

Breathe, breathe breathebreathebreathe—

You jumped at the soft knock on the bathroom door, and you ripped it open without hesitation, revealing a concerned Ellie, Dina, and sibling, reaching out and asking if you were okay. How long were you there? You couldn’t speak or breathe or see so you swiftly shook your head no nonono—

Ellie and your sister guided you back to the living room and onto the couch. Ellie squatted down to your eye level, grabbing your face in her warm hands while your sister rubbed your back and Dina held your hand. The other girls’ expressions had been pulled down in concern as they watched your smaller frame tremble. 

“Hey squirt, can you do me a favor? Can you breathe with me?” 

“Cmon, deep breath in and hold it with me, follow me okay?” Ellie instructed. Your mimicked breaths were choked and broken, but she nodded her head at you in encouragement anyway, gently whispering a that’s it every time you shakily exhaled. 

All the girls remained silent but attentive, allowing Ellie to control the situation. Riley had even gone to the kitchen to snag you a glass of water that she set on the coffee table. You tried to match Ellie’s breaths with yours, holding, in and out, holding, in and out, and you eventually calmed down. There was silence for a few minutes before Dina spoke. 

“How do you feel, hun? You okay to talk now?” she asked softly while gently caressing your hand. You didn’t know how to answer, so you meekly nodded your head yes. 

“Tell us what’s been going on with you. You’ve been so… MIA lately,” your friend noted, cringing slightly at her choice of words. 

“I… I don’t know what’s wrong, I don’t know what… what’s happening to me—

“Shh, it’s alright, we’re gonna handle it, just try to relax for now. We’re leaving in a little, anyway,” your sister comforted. You felt Ellie’s calloused fingers gently rub your knee soothingly. You just wanted to lay down. 

After some more hugs and forehead smooches from Dina, you and your sister packed up your things and headed home. You weren’t aware, but Ellie met your sister’s eyes with an intense gaze, quietly instructing her before you both left, (“You need to watch her tonight, do you understand? You watch her until tomorrow and you tell your mom what happened the second you get a chance”) which she immediately agreed to. 

Your sister had held your hand tightly as you both made your way to your front porch. Your sister pulled out her semiquaver keychain, unlocking the door and quietly trudged inside. Your home was dark, meaning that your mother had already been in bed. Your sister hadn’t released the tight grip of your hand the entire trek upstairs. She opened her bedroom door, silently pulling you inside and made her way over to her dresser. She gave you a giant T-shirt to change into as she put her bonnet on. You both brushed your teeth and washed your face before heading over to her bed. You laid down facing each other, tucked under the blankets. You both looked at each other in silence, but she broke it. 

“I want you to tell me why that happened, no bullshit.” 

You didn’t reply. You were tired. 

“Please tell me what’s wrong.” She pressed on. You noted the desperation in her eyes. Your heart was hurting. 

Silence.

Her eyes shut in defeat before she turned her back to you. Your eyes burned into the worn shirt she wore. Just say it, the voice in your head screamed at you, tell her how worthless you are! 

Silence. 

Silence.

Silence.

And then an exhale. 

“I think I need to talk to someone.” 

You did not expect the rest of your summer to be filled with therapy sessions and journal entries. When your sister told your mother about the events of that night, much to your dismay, she immediately made some phone calls and scheduled sessions twice a week. You had to pause your violin sessions for a few weeks, and you missed it, but you knew this was more important. Your mother expressed her remorse for not paying closer attention to your behavior. Your distance, your lack of energy, your reluctance to speak, your silence—God, your silence. You were screaming without a word. She felt that she’d failed you, and she wanted to do as much as she could to reignite that light in your eyes. 

You hadn’t looked forward to these meetings in the beginning, but you soon grew to like your therapist. Even though your feelings were confusing and unfamiliar to you, she was in no rush to get answers out of you. She allowed you to speak at your own pace and listened to every minor detail. She concluded that your self-doubt has bubbled over into anxiety: she recommended you journaling. She wanted you to document one thing that you loved about yourself everyday (“It can be anything: appearance, personality, talents. Whatever you wish. Just make sure you mean it”). 

And so, you did. 

The next month flew by, the last bits of summer slowly easing into fall, and you were going to start your first year of high school. Your mother and sister had noticed a slight change in your behavior during your break: you started eating dinner with them instead of in your room, asked how their day went, what their week looked like. Your sister would ramble about how stressed she was for her last year but also how excited she was to perform with the school’s orchestra at the December recital and, for the first time in what felt like forever, you rambled back. Your mother had listened from the kitchen as you two gossiped, argued, and even planned to play music together in the future. Her heart swelled. You also started hanging out with Dina, Ellie, Jesse, and your sister a lot more: one night, you followed them back to Joel and Ellie’s garage to watch them freestyle on some of his used instruments. Jesse, who babbled to you about his new love for drumming, demonstrated some techniques he had adapted from Joel on his old drum set while your sister nodded her head along to the beats he made. Dina was already improvising on their brand new sixty-one key keyboard, headphones on to tune out the noise the four of you were making. Ellie, who had stepped away to answer her girlfriend’s call, had her father’s bright green, electric bullet mustang strapped around her chest. She noticed you staring and sent you a thumbs up, you giving one back. She sent you a wink and a smile before turning away to continue her conversation. Your heartbeat increased. 

Ellie had become much more attentive after that night at the party. She had always been protective of you, but her desire to talk to you increased tenfold. She would text you fried memes in the middle of the night or leave voice memos about how her dad was helping her customize his old electric guitar. She chattered about wanting to record the entire process for all of you to see. 

i feel like if i help my dad with anything he’ll wring my neck :| he’s so particular abt instruments it’s annoying 

that sucks :( but at least he cares!! he’s just passionate and wants u to play the best. 

he gave it to ME tho. the guitar is mine now!! i should have some input on how it looks be on my side!!! >:/

i am!! just be patient with him. ur gonna be shredding w it soon enough :D

And she also never failed to check in on you for more serious matters, either. She never pressed for information, not wanting to overstep, but she always ensured that you had a safe space to discuss anything you wanted with her. After some of your meetings, you would already have a text from her asking how your session went and what you learned. You would send her voice memos about some of your therapist’s pointers about communication and how you were trying to improve that skill for your family, especially your mom. She also provided some advice about what helped her regain her footing in conversation, joking that no one could ever get me to shut the hell up at the end of the day! that’s for damn sure. 

Ellie wasn’t aware, but you started writing about her in your journal, as well. Small, little excerpts of what you liked about her and how she made you feel. How caring she was. How she made your heart beat fast whenever she was around. How strong she felt when she pulled you in for a tight hug while whispering about how she missed you—

Oh. 

Oh.

You were helpless… and gay. 

It was late into November. You were fourteen and elated. 

Not only had you slowly eased back into music, but you had friends. That you made on your own. You knew that your sister and her friends didn’t want to drag you along everywhere they went, both on and off campus, so you began to explore other paths by yourself. Swiftly after the school year started, you joined the campus orchestra, and while you were terrified, you were excited. Impassioned. Hopeful. 

There were all types of groups that passed through the practice room. Students of all grades hung out, ate, and studied there: you were shocked at the number of students that lounged in the designated nerd hotspot during their free time. This is nothing like the movies, you had thought. You noted that the room was not as busy on Thursdays during lunch, and you thought it would be a good time to tune out the outside world and throw yourself into music again. One Thursday, you walked in on a group of juniors whispering and giggling about something you couldn’t hear. You looked around and noticed one of the girls from your biology class—Arya, you remembered—pushed off into a corner by herself, on her knees and hurriedly shoving her things into her backpack. She looked upset. 

She looked sad. 

The juniors had been talking about her.

You had your violin case and lunch in hand as you slowly made your way past the juniors and in front of her. You noticed her tear-stained cheeks shining under the white light of the room as you got closer. You softly greeted her, making her jump and eyes harden. 

“Hey, Arya, you alright?” You whispered, squatting down to her level. 

“What do you think,” She whispered back harshly, continuing to shove her books into her pack. “Does it look like I’m alright? If you’re here to laugh you can honestly fuck off.” 

You’d flinched at her tone but pressed on. “I didn’t walk all the way here to laugh at you. Let's go somewhere else, we can eat together, if you want!” 

You could tell she had questioned your enthusiasm. She looked at you skeptically before looking behind you, at the juniors, and then back at you. You didn’t budge. She slowly rose to her feet, swung her backpack over her shoulder, grabbed her instrument case from the floor—hm, clarinet— and softly nodded. You both leaving caused the juniors to laugh harder. 

You didn’t care. 

You and Arya have done everything together since that day. She was eager to introduce you to her two friends, Starr and Kris, who you clicked with immediately. The second they sat you down, they raged about how much they hated the writers of Vampire Diaries due to how they treated Kat Graham, how they joked about hating talented people like you and Arya, what they wanted their future weddings to look like (Kris and her Pinterest boards), and you laughed. 

You were calm.

You were happy. 

Your first year of high school flew by. 

Your sister earned her flute solo at the December recital, earning a standing ovation from the audience of students and parents. You and your mother screamed the loudest for her. 

At Dina’s eighteenth birthday party, you, Ellie, and your sister walked in on her and Jesse tonguing each other down in the kitchen. Ellie let out a hardy laugh of are you fuckers serious! right in front of my salad? while your sister fell to the floor in hysterics. You had shielded your eyes. 

April came around and so did prom season. Your sister said that she had been anticipating the event since seventh grade and you, your mom, and Dina were dragged along to her fitting. She had texted Ellie to come, but she swiftly declined, claiming that she couldn’t hide my fat dick in a dress! love you tho! buy me an elf bar? :3

You missed her so much. 

On the evening of prom, your sister, Dina, Jesse, and Ellie all pitched in to rent a limo. Your sister, gorgeous as always, was draped in a strapless, floral gown that cinched her waist and bloomed at her hips and her twists were pinned up to show her neckline and back. Dina wore a flowy, black dress with a leg slit. Ellie and Jesse were dressed to a T in classic black suits, him in loafers and her in beat up Vans with her usual messy, low bun. 

Your parents had all met at Joel’s house for pictures and semi-alcoholic drinks. You were touching up your sister’s makeup at Ellie’s desk in her room when you felt too familiar hands pinch your sides with a soft, hey squirt. You jumped, almost mussing up your sister’s liner, causing her to kick the hell out of Ellie’s calf. She feigned an ache before hitting her mint elf bar, blowing it away from both of your faces. 

“Don’t fucking play with me right now bitch, I mean it, this is serious business,” your sister had said to her. 

“Oh shut the hell up, it’s three hours of musty people dancing, it’s not that serious,” Ellie said before turning to you, “Check your sister, dude.” 

“El, please shut up,” you said to her. “Just hold still, I'm almost done, god you’re both annoying!” 

You worked as quickly as you could, slightly smudging the liner on her waterline until you were satisfied, “…aaaand done. Tell me how it looks right quick.” 

She inspected her appearance, pressing on her baby hairs before turning and giving you a fat smooch, “Thank you baby! It’s perfect, now move, I gotta piss before we go.” 

Your sister jumped up from Ellie’s chair, holding her dress up while flipping her off and lightly sprinting down the hall to the bathroom, which left you both giggling.

A bored Ellie had made her way over to her bed while you worked, laid out across it, silently puffing on her nic before saying, “I don’t know how you deal with her sometimes.” 

“Me neither, honestly,” you replied, smiling. “Where’s Cat?” 

“Somewhere being annoying. We had an argument last night.” 

“Yikes, sorry I asked.” 

She sat up before shrugging, beckoning you to sit next to her in the bed, “You’re good. She felt a way about my promposal. She went off about me not putting that much effort into the sign I made and waiting until the last minute to ask. It was petty.” 

You snorted with a head shake as you watched her breathe menthol out her nose. 

“Don’t laugh at my shortcomings! Wait ‘til you get a boyfriend, he’s gonna forget about prom too! It’s dumb.” 

You froze. Boyfriend. Boyfriend? You laughed sheepishly with another shake of your head. She noticed your reaction before you could even reply. She smirked in acknowledgement. 

“… or partner. Your partner might forget.” She quietly corrected with a sly grin. 

“If you say anything I’ll strangle you and burn your corpse.” 

“Oh my fucking god, did you forget that I lived in the closet for almost five years straight?! You’re fine.” 

She took another puff before asking, “Anybody steal your heart yet?” 

“Please be serious, I haven’t even had my first kiss yet. How do you even talk to girls without dying?” You said with a pout. 

She almost fell over as she giggled. “You talk to girls like you talk to everyone else, you’re gonna charm them regardless. Trust me.” 

You felt your face heat up at the subtle compliment, but you gave her an eye roll and light shove before your sister came trucking down the hallway with her heels in hand. She shrieked out a limo’s here! before flying down the stairs. Ellie took one more long puff of her pale green vape before tucking it into her jacket pocket, wrapping her arms around your smaller frame as she guided you downstairs. 

She smelled like mint menthol and pine trees. You loved how she smelled. 

Summer came, and you’d fully accepted your big, fat crush on Ellie. 

Your journal had been riddled with doodles of her name surrounded by hearts and sparkles, written words of affection through poetry, more hearts and sparkles. You couldn’t stop thinking about her: everything that she said, everything she did, did something to you. But you didn’t know that the fluttering in your chest whenever she was around would be short lived. 

Your sister had spent her eighteenth birthday at Cat’s family lake house. As much as you wanted to be a fly on the wall and watch your sister go crazy, you had to settle with viewing her private story from your warm bed on Friday night. It was a mess: she had posted multiple snaps of Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and herself taking shot after shot, chug after chug, until she posted a photo of Jesse’s head hanging out of a second story window with Dina’s hand on his back and Ellie cheesing wide with her two thumbs up, nic in hand. Her next snap, however, made your smile drop from your face. 

The footage was a close—too close—up shot of Ellie and Cat making out against the wall. Ellie had her girlfriend trapped between her and the wood, both hands cradling her face as she dominated the kiss. She was grinding her hips up to meet the dark-haired girl’s, pressing her body further into the wall. Ellie then dropped her hands to her girlfriend’s hips, grabbing her short dress in her larger hands to pull her even closer. You barely noticed due to the shakiness of the camera, but you saw the pink glisten of your good friend's tongue swiping up into her girl's mouth before the snap ended. 

You'd nearly dropped your phone on your face. 

The clip had been hilarious out of context: the loud booming of clap clap clap that ass bitch, shake that cameltoe, lemme see them pussy lips! with your sister screaming and shaking like crazy in the background, Jesse behind the couple hurling his guts out of a window, and his concerned girlfriend pouting with a turquoise bong and lighter in her hand. Anyone would’ve found it comedic gold, but you? 

Your stomach had twisted uncomfortably, not only from jealousy, but from a burning, swirling heat. 

You dropped your phone on your bed and sat up as angry tears blurred your vision. You knew her and her girlfriend had been on and off for a while now, so why did it affect you so deeply to see them together? How stupid could you be? you thought she wanted you after all this time? a voice that you hadn’t heard in a while said to you. You’d recognized that tremor in your hands and pick-up of your heart, and you knew that you couldn’t be alone tonight. You sent a quick SOS text to your friends in the group chat, desperately seeking comfort. Arya, ever the angel, was the first to respond with a quick and simple omw rn, stealing her brother’s car keys to pick up Kris and Starr and flew straight to your house. 

The girls held you while you sobbed, gently shushing you and encouraging you to take deep breaths. 

Breathe with me, squirt, there ya go. 

You wished that voice didn’t sound so much like hers. 

Your sister and her friends had returned home Sunday night, hungover and exhausted like hell. You hadn’t moved from your bed all weekend, and you hadn’t wanted to get up to help her drag her bags in. You immediately recognized the laughter that came from downstairs, and your heart shook painfully in your chest. Their voices were muffled due to your door being shut, but you heard a cheerful I’ll go get her leave your sister’s mouth before the sound of her rushed footsteps flooded the quiet hallway. 

You quickly flipped over so your back faced the door, your blanket thrown over your body as you pretended to sleep. 

You heard your door open, some shuffling, before it was gently shut again. You listened to your sister shuffle back downstairs and you heard a faint she’s slumped…. tomorrow or something… 

Their chatter and laughter continued into the night while you moped in your room. Your phone had pinged around eleven, a pop-up of sleep well, squirt:3 on your home screen. 

You turned your phone off and threw it on your nightstand, shutting your eyes, praying for sleep to come. 

You dreamt of green and pine trees. 

You had begun your sophomore year, and your friends had been a good distraction from the inner turmoil of your heart. During the last bits of your vacation, Ellie had been texting you non-stop, eager to play you the completed version of a song she’d been working on for the past five months. She’d even finished customizing her father’s passed down electric guitar: you only knew because you frequently checked her Instagram, despite the ache you felt in your chest when you saw the posts of her and her girlfriend doing cute couple shit. Her guitar had been airbrushed raven black with silver strings, and a detailed white and green skull that she painted on the body. She’d sent you and your sister the entire video of her creation as promised, but you'd only replied with a dry thumbs up emoji. Her suspicions were correct: something serious was going on with you. 

After your sister’s birthday weekend in July, Ellie texted you multiple times to come help her and Dina mix a song and watch movies, but you politely declined saying that you were busy and maybe another time :)! It technically wasn’t a lie: your sister came to your defense when she asked where you were, saying that your trigonometry grade had dropped significantly after your first test, and you were desperate to get it up before your mother noticed. She had accepted that excuse for the first two weeks, but after your sixth reply of busy :( rain check? she got agitated. 

She started pressing your sister about your attitude after the first month without your knowledge, but she swiftly got brushed off with a dude, she's studying at her friend's house, can you relax and pack this bowl for me please? 

Ellie laid in her bed after her hotbox with her friends, confused as to why you were acting so stiff with her so suddenly. Whenever she came over to your house, you locked yourself in your room and didn’t come out to greet her for whatever reason. She had been this close to marching to your house and kicking your bedroom door down herself before she received a notification that you had updated your private story. She clicked it, and played a video of one of your friends with a flyswatter in hand yelling about how she was a world-renowned mosquito killer until the bug started flying around the unfamiliar room. Multiple shrieks, including yours, were heard before the video abruptly ended. 

Ellie swiped up on your story with a quick LOOOOOOL, but she wasn’t laughing. I guess she really was busy doing something, she thought. She felt bad for assuming that you had been purposefully avoiding her, but she was not used to you being unavailable. She was a clingy high, sue her. 

She clicked her phone off and hoped she would see you soon. 

Ellie’s eighteenth birthday had been two weeks away.

Her birthday never felt like her own; Her dad had always made a big deal about the celebration. He spent hours blowing up balloons for her eleventh, baking cupcakes(even though he nearly burned their entire house down) for her fourteenth, and bragged to the cashier at the vinyl shop about how much of an old soul his baby girl was(“Oh this isn’t for me, my daughter is obsessed with the oldies, I really rubbed off on her, she’s turning sixteen tomorrow and I wanna surprise her!”). She’d never complained, though. She’d never say, but she loved seeing him happy more than anything in the world.

However, her attitude towards her eighteenth birthday had been different. She was eager to celebrate her transition into adulthood with the people she loved the most. She knew that she wanted a slasher themed party with blood and gore everywhere. Her inner horror movie fan had been gasping for water for years, and she was finally going to quench her thirst. 

Call her Jason. 

You and your sister were arguing about who would dress up as Scream. 

Ellie had given your sister an invitation to her big eighteenth, and although you were reluctant about going, your guilt had slowly been gnawing at you. The last message that Ellie sent you was almost three weeks ago: a simple miss u, which you left unread. You thought it was strange how no one acknowledged the tension between the two of you, but you hardly understood it yourself, and you began to feel remorseful. 

You owed her an apology, and you planned to do it tonight. 

“You’re not dressing up as Scream, bitch, I’m sorry! I got you this Jack the Ripper cape, try it on.” she said as she threw the cape and top hat on your bed.  

“Jack the Ripper was racist, fact— “

“Most serial killers are! It’s for aesthetic purposes only! There’s no such thing as a moral compass on Halloween.” 

You stared at her with a blank expression, before she resigned, retrieving the fit, “Ugh, fine, go as one of the most iconic slashers in film history, see if I give a damn.” 

“Waaaaaa, you mad.” You said with a laugh. 

She yelled back a DUH! as she marched down the hall and into the bathroom to change. Your mom wasn’t supportive of the slasher costume party, but she stood no chance against your sister’s persuasive pout and googly eyes. 

An hour later, you both were dressed with your gifts in hand as your mother locked the door behind you. You couldn’t begin to imagine the reaction of your neighbors if they peeped out of their windows since Halloween wasn’t for another two weeks. They better not call the fucking cops, that's all I know! your sister shouted out into the quiet neighborhood before you shushed her. 

Despite the anxiety in the pit of your stomach, you were eager to see Ellie. You and your sister had pitched in to get custom-made, embroidered guitar pics as her gift: you were hoping that she liked them. 

It wasn’t long before you made it onto the Miller residence. Your sister scaled the stairs of their front porch like it was a mountain before banging on the door. It shot open seconds later and revealed Dina, dressed as Freddy Krueger, and Jesse as… Saw. 

That mask always made an uncomfortable shiver go down your spine. 

They both pulled you and your sister into tight hugs before pulling you further inside to shut the door. The entire downstairs area was lit with red LED lights with faux cobwebs spread across the kitchen and living room walls. You and your sister almost slipped on the fake blood that was splattered all over the wooden floor. There was a giant bowl of tooth-rotting chocolate and a bag of sour gummies on the counter, right next to the multitude of Jason figurines. There was also eerie music playing from Ellie’s speaker near the TV. 

You couldn’t believe you had a crush on this loser. 

“OH MY FUCKING GOD IM SO FUCKING EXCITED THIS IS GOING TO BE SO MUCH FUN HOLY SHIT— “ 

Your sister, then Dina, had already been trucking back up the stairs, as they released excited squeals, which only ignited more excited squeals from other voices you barely recognized. 

Jesse threw his arms around you as he pulled you inside. 

“Bro, where the fuck have you been, I haven’t seen you in ages!” He said, voice muffled under his mask and over the bass from the speakers.

“I know, I’m sorry, school is crazy right now, but I’m here now,” you said with a smile and just as muffled, walking over to the counter to rip open the sour gummy bag. “Are we supposed to be upstairs or something?” 

“Nah, Cat and Riley, you remember Riley, are finishing up their costumes. They really went all out with the decor though, I was impressed.” 

Your smile fell at the mention of her girlfriend, and you immediately knew that you weren’t going to have fun. You lifted your mask up to shove candied worms into your mouth in attempts to center yourself. 

After ten minutes of ravishing the tart candies on the kitchen barstool, you heard quick, heavy footsteps descend the stairs. 

You turned to see Ellie, Abby, Dina, Riley, Cat, and your sister descend the stairs, jumping excitedly at your get-up, laughing at your mask. You barely had the chance to stand from your seat and greet everyone before Ellie pushed past them to pull you into a rib-cracking hug. You could hardly move to return the gesture.

“I missed you so much, squirt, holy shit,” she whispered into your ear. You would’ve dropped to your knees if it wasn’t for her grip. “Where have you been, are you doing okay?” 

She pulled back slightly to look at your face while both your masks were atop your heads, and you got a good look at her freckled appearance. Her hair was styled in a half bun with multicolored bobby pins holding her bangs back. She was wearing light makeup: her nose and cheeks were gently highlighted, her under eyes had a dark red tinted liner that was smudged with purpose, and she shaved a slit into her eyebrow. She had on a black T-shirt that had been cut and ripped in some parts, black, ripped jeans, and an oversized, dark olive-green flannel. The sleeves were rolled up and you damn near fainted at the subtle lines of an unfinished tattoo peeking out. She also had a plastic version of Jason’s large, bloody machete secured through the belt loop of her jeans. 

Holy shit. 

Your face was burning hot from how close her face was to yours. “Hi El, I’m fine, happy birthday,” you said quietly, half chewing the worms in your mouth. 

You turned to grab her small, wrapped gift box off the counter, softly shoving it into her chest in attempts to distract her from pressing about your whereabouts, and though you noticed her eyebrows pull down in concern, she grabbed the box from your hands before replying a gentle thank you. 

Your sister slapped Ellie on the back, breaking up the moment, begging to change the music genre before dragging her to the living room to unlock her phone. 

I can’t shake ass to this shit, bitch! Change it now!

I NEED A ONE DANCE, GOT A HENNESSY IN MY HAND—

It was almost eleven. Everyone had migrated to the living room after Ellie finally turned off her summoning demons :0 playlist and allowed your sister to shuffle Spotify’s Top 40 from 2016. After Riley skipped every non-Rihanna song for the first thirty minutes, Abby snatched the phone from her hands and put Drake on. They both were on top of the couch, screaming into wooden spoons like they were microphones while Jesse, Dina, and your sister jokingly popped their backs. 

You had fallen back onto a lounge chair to catch your breath from the rigorous jumping you were doing, watching them all sing their lungs out. 

You had the opportunity to briefly speak to Abby, who dressed up as a bloody Esther, during Riley’s incessant song-skipping since you never had the chance to genuinely talk to her. She excitedly told you about how she and Riley had been best friends since fifth grade and they both met Ellie in middle school. She cringed when she reminisced on the memory of Ellie giving Riley a glitter-riddled macaroni card for Valentine’s Day in seventh grade. Abby and Riley both graduated a year before your sister and friends did and were sophomores at Boston University, her pursuing her hockey career and Riley studying neuroscience. 

The shrilling screams of Dina, Abby, and your sister when Single Ladies blasted through the speakers made you jump in your seat before you got up and made your way into the kitchen for water (and more gummies). Babe you’re not single! you heard Jesse yell to Dina. 

You stood at the counter chomping on the sweets, contemplating when would be the best time to speak to Ellie one-on-one. You'd seen her escape onto the back patio, probably to smoke, you thought. You had never been confrontational, and you didn’t want to say something you regretted like hi ellie i’ve been in love with you for years i’m so sorry for ignoring you and iloveyouiloveyou—

Yeah, you’d probably leave with a black eye from her girlfriend if you did that. Just say you're sorry, don’t be selfish, don’t ruin her birthday, don’t ruin her relationship, you thought. now or never. 

After your mental pep talk, you took a sip from your glass and shoved a handful of the candies in your mouth as a center. You made your way to the back door and onto the patio. Hot ass mask, you thought before ripping it off your head and tossing it onto the glass patio table. 

What you weren’t expecting to see was Cat and Ellie already outside having a conversation, and from where you were standing, it looked intense. 

“Why the fuck are you mad about me hugging her when I haven’t seen her in ages?” 

And you froze. 

“Ellie, if you can’t see that she has the biggest crush on you then you're actually delusional,” Cat spat back at her. “And that wasn’t just a regular hug either! You should’ve seen her face when you grabbed her, it looked like she was about to drop to her knees and propose!” 

They couldn’t see you from where you stood and it would’ve been in your best interest to flee before you passed out from embarrassment and loathing, but your feet had been glued to the ground and you were forced to listen to their harsh exchange. 

“First off, watch your mouth, I’m not fucking delusional,” the birthday girl heatedly said back. “And no she didn’t! And even if she did it doesn’t fucking matter. She's a fucking kid!” 

And you’d felt your heart plummet to your feet. 

The remainder of the candies in your mouth felt like sandpaper and you couldn’t swallow. You felt the all too familiar tremors of your hands start to pick up. 

“Listen,” you heard her tone soften. “I’m in love with you, okay? I love you, and I don’t want to be with anyone else. I don’t think about being with anyone else.” 

The sharp gasp you sucked in made both heads turn towards you in shock, and your teary eyes locked with wide, green ones. 

You wanted to fall through the floor and die. 

Cat scoffed and shook her head as if to say see what I mean before she puffed on her—Ellie’s—vape. 

Ellie’s call of your name snapped you out of your stupor, your feet moving before your brain could tell them to, clumsily shuffling your way back into your heartbreaker’s home, sliding the door shut with a loud slam. 

Everyone who’d been dancing jumped at the sound, turning to take in your ruffled state as their energetic smiles slowly dropped in concern. 

“What’s the matter, honey?” Dina said gently over the still loud music. 

Your sister called your name out with worry in her voice. You looked into her eyes with a head shake before you choked out a reply. 

“Can we… I wanna leave, please, now.” 

a/n: heyyyy lol so yeah thats that ig. if anyone even reads or sees this fic plss be nice to me ive never written anything like this b4. idk how long this will be but its def gonna be long,,, lots of ground 2 cover w this universe this game is everything 2 me and so is ellie so ye bye lolz

read pt 2 here :D

[phoebe-delia]

please give me a rant on Cats ily btw

Hi nonnie! Omg ily too, thank you! And thank you for this ask, because ooohh boy do I have feelings about this adaptation.

First of all, I have a few disclaimers to make:

1. I love the actual musical. Yes, I know the show is very controversial--either you love it or you hate it--but I grew up on "Cats." I loved it, and the book of poems it's based on. So for those looking for a rant about the lack of plot or criticizing the show itself, this post isn't for you.

2. I'm not even going to address the CGI other than to say....that was a choice. I think the critics and social media have done plenty to criticize it, and I won't say more about that fever dream on 'shrooms.

3. There were two aspects of the movie I enjoyed: Jennifer Hudson singing "Memory" and Taylor Swift's appearance; though even the presence of my favorite artist of all time was not enough to redeem this movie.

And for you, nonnie, I rewatched both the trailer and The Rum Tum Tugger song. I will be sending you the bill for my therapy <3 ;)

Now, onto the good stuff.

I'll start with the casting. Something that a ton of movie musical adaptations do is stunt-cast big names to draw audiences because they're afraid that people won't want to see a movie musical. This happened in the "Les Miserables" movie, and while big-name choices like Anne Hathaway, Helena Bonham Carter, Sacha Baron-Cohen, and even Hugh Jackman had varying degrees of success, Russell Crowe as Javert was an obvious flop.

People like Jackman, Meryl Streep, and more recently James Corden have been cast in all these movie musicals because they're famous enough to get the average person into the theater. But, God, at what cost? I mean honestly, the only instance in which I think stunt casting truly worked was in the "Chicago" movie, which I firmly believe is the best movie musical adaptation ever made. (But that's another post.)

But please for the love of God can we start casting people with singing talent in musicals? Please? I'm begging.

Anyway, I digress. My point is: casting big names--even distinguished, incredible actors like Sir Ian McKellen and Idris Elba and Dame Judi Dench--will not save a movie musical from being shitty.

But here's probably my biggest problem: the acting itself.

Almost every single character was just the actor's personality projected into it. With the exception of the two previously unknown actors, it just felt like the characters were simply the actors dressed in costume and being a weird, exaggerated version of themselves. Little attention seemed to be paid to the actual characterization of the cats.

I think what hurt the most for me, personally, was Jason Derulo as Rum Tum Tugger. Oh, ouch, this one was painful because growing up I was a huge fan of the character. To be fair to Derulo, it is nearly impossible to follow in the footsteps of Terrence Mann. I mean, he played both Tugger and Javert in the original Broadway casts of Cats and Les Mis respectively--he's a musical theater giant.

But with Derulo, Tugger became...weaker and kinda one-dimensional. Rum Tum Tugger is flamboyant and funny, sort of like Elvis or Mick Jagger. He's larger than life, and Derulo just made him kinda sleazy without the high energy. I will say--his take on the iconic ending riff was good; he hit the right notes while still making it his own. Derulo is clearly talented, but I don't think he was well cast in this role.

Honestly, I think "Cats" should never have been adapted. Even if it pleased every die-hard fan of the show and did everything perfectly, it's so controversial and polarizing among theater fans that there's little chance that a non-theater fan is going to even see it--let alone enjoy it. The musical itself is kind of insane; it's an acquired taste, and it's not for everyone.

The moral of the story is, in my humble opinion, if you can't use the film genre and tools to enhance the story (or at least match the quality) then do a professional shot of it on stage, and either way, hire talented, diverse, unknown theater actors who can sing.

*sigh.* Alright, end of rant. Honestly, thank you nonnie this was cathartic. I think we can call it even on the therapy bill ;)

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

[rowanfoster]

{ odeya rush ♔ twenty-three ♔ she/her } well, well, well if it isn’t rowan foster running around peach hollow. legend has it, she comes from tangerine towers and has lived here her entire life. if you’re wondering what she’s been up to, i hear she’s a make up artist / freelance musician for a living. she has been known to be impulsive yet insightful. a word of advice to her, always look over your shoulder. you never know who is watching.

why yes, it is i, admin kim, with another character that should’ve been kept in the drafts of my mind. if you’ve not met daysia or serenity, here’s a lil low down on me. i’m 26, i use she/her pronouns, and live on the east coast. i thrive on writing angst and my animal crossing villagers being happy. also caffeine. i luv chris klemens. most likely to have a mental breakdown on twitter. meet rowan! trigger warnings for mental illness, bipolar disorder specifically, and inpatient treatment

have a playlist and a pinterest board dedicated to her

rowan celeste foster was born may 27th, 1996. she’s the oldest of two, a baby sister coming to the scene in 1999.

her family is extremely close. they’ve been in peach hollow their whole lives. she grew up in a crowded house on blueberry boulevard, crammed in with her mother, father, sister, maternal grandmother and maternal grandfather. rowan never knew peace or privacy growing up – it just wasn’t possible with that many people which has really contributed to her somewhat isolated adulthood

her mother is a charge nurse at peach hollow general, working on the emergency room floor. her father is a retired car salesman. her grandparents moved into the house when her sister was born in order to help take care of the girls while their parents worked full time. rowan is especially grateful for their care, because she feels like she’d be a little more sour had she been raised by absent parents.

growing up, she shared a room with her younger sister. they told each other everything because they had no choice not to. they both developed an interest in make up and music at very young ages, but rowan particularly took to those things while maci took more interest in sports. when rowan was gifted her first ukulele at age 6, maci got her first basketball. they are polar opposites, but maci was the only person rowan really confided in as a child and an adolescent.

she’d always been rather moody. tantrums and fits were nearly unavoidable. her self esteem lacked before she even had a chance to develop any confidence. she was always the try hard, the girl who stood out because she was just a little different, the emotional one, the one the other kids didn’t want to mess with, not because she’d fight back, but because she would absolutely lose it. there were countless times where rowan ended up in the guidance counselor’s office, waiting on her grandmother to show up and bring her home. that was the beginning of their problems.

her mental health really started to decline in her mid teenage years. she spent hours upon hours in her room, writing songs, playing guitar, practicing make up looks – she’d go days without sleeping and snap at anyone who crossed her path. she got into screaming matches with everyone in the house, only to find herself crying in her bed for the next few days. she started missing days at a time from school, while her artistry thrive, the rest of her crumbled. her grades, all of it.

eventually, this resulted in her parents yanking her out of peach hollow high and putting her in counseling, which lead her to a psychiatrist and a diagnosis of bipolar disorder at the age of 17. while it made sense, she dreaded taking the medications. they numbed everything. her writing suffered, and while her moods weren’t swinging from the trees anymore, she feared that this empty feeling was worse.

she finished her high school diploma in homeschooling with her grandmother while maci went on to thrive in school. the attention shifted to her, and rowan couldn’t really blame them. she turned 18 and started performing in clubs, bars, and anywhere she could get in. ps her voice is a mix of bishop briggs & mary lambert. the thrill of performing to small crowds sucked her in. she began to gain an even smaller following on social media, mainly the locals following her. every once in a while she’ll book a show in atlanta and she’ll make the long drive just to sing in front of a bit of a larger crowd. she’ll gain a few followers from those shows, but this still isn’t her main source of income.

most of her money comes from the make up artistry she does through pop of peach. she doesn’t go in every day, but when someone has an event scheduled or needs their make up done for a dance or something, she’s there. she tries to spread things out bc she’s always late lmao and finds it hard to stick to a schedule

she was doing so well for a few years, even moved out of her parents’ house and into an apartment at the towers. that’s where she really found herself, made some real friends and built relationships that were good for her. however, she missed a few doctor’s appointments and was discharged from her psychiatrist’s office. she went off meds, and for a few weeks it was fine. when she ran out of meds, the next few weeks were okay as well. it was when every single drop of medication had drained from her body that things got bad.

rowan was missing appointments she scheduled at pop of peach. she was spending far too much time out at nights, giving in to alcohol for the most part. she tried not to touch any drugs, but drinking became a nightly thing. she’d perform, then spend the rest of the night partying with whoever she could find at the venue.

one night in atlanta after a particularly shaky performance, rowan found herself in a dark place and simply went into the women’s bathroom to calm down, but police say they found her laying flat on the ground, refusing to respond to anyone. she vaguely remembers the end of the manic episode, but it did land her in the emergency room for a change in mental status.

much to her chagrin, they admitted her overnight before transporting her to skyland trail, a mental health facility in atlanta. she spend about two and a half months there getting medications regulated and learning new coping mechanisms. she was discharged about two weeks ago and finally made it back to peach hollow and her apartment.

she’d lead everyone other than her family and maybe one or two other people that she was away on a musician’s retreat, but really, was in inpatient treatment.

she’s currently working full time as a make up artist at pop of peach and performing when she can, but doesn’t really go outside of peach hollow

fun facts & personality

rowan despises small talk. conversations about the weather or political climate don’t stimulate her and she gets snarky pretty easily. it isn’t that she wants to come off rude or unapproachable, but nine times out of ten, small talk is fake and she feels as though she doesn’t have the time or energy to indulge in it. ask her about the sky or some shit. she won’t shut up

she has a tendency to overshare,  aside from what’s been going on in the past few months. her lips are sealed tight about that. however, she’s open to talking about her mental health and is a big advocate for erasing the stigma. this makes rowan a very good listener and a huge supportive presence for anyone struggling. she’s the mom friend, and no matter what time of day or night, if someone says they need an ear, she’ll go to them. she knows what it’s like to be alone.

despite her past and her demons, rowan finds a way to put on a smile. it might often be snarky or sarcastic, but rarely is it insincere. she’s an empath and feels everything so very deeply, but can easily put it away when necessarily.

her apartment is her safe haven. she rarely has company. it isn’t really her thing. she prefers to go to other people’s places. she has her record collection proudly displayed on her living room wall, all the plants you can imagine, incense burning whenever she’s home, and a scottish fold munchkin cat named loonette after her favorite childhood tv show, the big comfy couch. she has hopes to get another cat named molly to match. you know, because we’re all clowns !

she takes great pride in her instagram. it sounds superficial, but often times, rowan will post a good picture and then link to her next show in hopes that somebody will come based on that. while she does have a passion for make up and a second instagram for it, ultimately, she’d like for there to come a time where she can live solely on the money she makes through music

catch her driving her old ass ford focus blaring 00s alternative, mainly fuckin paramore bc she’s heart eyes for hayley williams

wanted connections if ya made it this far!!!!

childhood friends – those who she’s known since elementary school. they’ve most likely watched her go through her many trials and tribulations in class. these could be acquaintances, close friends, or even a ride or die or two.

bullies – people who fucked with her through school. it’s essential that they’re on bad terms currently, but perhaps an enemy turned friend or romantic could be fun??

group therapy pal – this would be super fun and might entail the person finding out about her secret…. msg me for deets

exes – there will be a couple of these, gender does not matter. i’d like to find one that she was dating when she went into treatment and maybe hasn’t seen/spoken to them since they’ve been back, first love, high school sweetheart?? omg possibilities are endless

flirtationship – self explanatory, gender doesn’t matter she’s pan

any other ideas literally lmk!! thanks for reading ♥

[rebelwheelsnycshow]

Hozier, Music & A Crash Course In Mostly Bed Bound Activism

I was reflecting on my recent crash course in mostly bed bound activism, when I wrote this on the internet. “For months, there's been a question hanging over my head. Will Cuomo force disabled people like me into institutions? I'm mostly bed bound. How can I contribute? What do I do with the fear & anger (self care)? One way was to play Nina Cried Power , groove, cry & then fight.“ You see in 2019, New York State Governor Andrew Cuomo was hell bent on destroying a home care program with massive cuts, and that in the end, would force disabled people like myself, out of our homes, out of our communities and into institutions against our will. It was a strong collective effort and eventually a number of disability groups (as well as home care agencies) took Cuomo & The Department of Health to court and after much back and forth - we won! And that’s when I wrote that post, because while I was a part of the collective effort, I was also getting a real time crash course in being an activist as someone who is now mostly bed bound. One song that I kind of adopted during this time as my ‘rise up, let’s do this’ sort of anthem was Hozier’s song Nina Cried Power.

[image description: graphic has a black background. the top and bottom are frost & icicles. to the left is a photo of new york state governor andrew cuomo in a suit, in mid speech. to the right is the following text “Is Cuomo The New Polar Vortex? ‘Cus the way he’s treating disabled people is cold. Next to the word cold is the blue & white wheelchair symbol. On the bottom reads "Don’t disabled new yorkers deserve justice too?] Sometimes every morning for months, I would dance a little (when possible) as part of my physical therapy, break down and cry because besides it being a very very moving song, I am literally fighting to not be forced out of my apartment and into an institution against my will. This that should not be a legal option, IS a legal option for politicians. And while it did get some local coverage, for the most part, there was no public outrage beyond our disability community. This is something that fucks with you, weighs on you. But then after doing some self care (which involved many things, but often involved music), I would feel a little bit more ready to take this on.

[image description: a graphic where cuomo is talking to elon musk in a parking lot.  "Here you go, Elon. 750 million to create 750 jobs." he says handing him bags of money. Elon responds "Uh...you just ran over disabled people with your justice agenda." A red bus marked "Cuomo" has run over disabled people. wheelchairs in the air with the words POW. We see legs under the bus, with the speech bubble "Ow."] It was a bit unnerving because while the situation felt urgent (this was my first time dealing with this level of direct systemic oppression or ableism), I really had no idea how to be a powerful and effective mostly bed bound activist. I was used to physically attending protests and now that was not an option... how do I activist? How do I contribute to the resistance? To be clear, it wasn’t like I felt it was either in the streets or bust, and that the in person protest was the only “real” tactic, I just didn’t know of other tactics, let alone tactics that I physically could take on.

[image description: Graphic with pink background, has an 80’s vibe. To the right is a woman making a gasping / oh my god expression. The text reads “OMG! Governor Cuomo gave Elon Musk 750 million to create 750 jobs, but wants to cut 75 million from CDPA (a medicaid program that serves poor, elderly & disabled new yorkers) & creates over 100,000 jobs for the state.” In the upper right hand corner “that is not justice”] But in time, I found that I had plenty to contribute. I wrote articles that presented the issue within the context of a bigger picture. I shared my story and tried to humanize a struggle that was sometimes presented via statistics and budgets - things that just aren’t very interesting to most people.

RELATED: Why Is Governor Cuomo Attacking Disabled New Yorkers Like Me? (And What You Can Do About It)

RELATED: 10 Reasons Why Cuomo’s Attacks On Marginalized New Yorkers Must Be Opposed

RELATED: What’s The Tea with Anita Mya Rhites (#1) : Cuomo’s Shade

RELATED: Truth Revealed: Media Uncovers Cuomo’s Plans To Ship Over 70,000 Disabled and Senior New Yorkers Into Institutions.

[Illustration of a drag queen in an elaborate wig (pink, orange, and yellows) and outfit (yellow and orange). She is sitting at a table (seen from the chest up) that has a blue tea cup that reads “What’s The Tea?” on it. Next to and slightly underneath the cup is a white napkin with black print that reads “with Anita Mya Rhites . The text around her reads “I am living for this new wig. What I am not living for is Cuomo’s attacks on disabled people!”] I made media that pointed out the absurdity and hypocrisy of a governor who has been going on and on about his justice agenda, and meanwhile was throwing disabled people (and senior citizens) under the bus.

[Image description: Pink background with three rows of decorative plates (6 in each row) On top, in bold yellow font with a minor black shadow reads: Inanimate objects vs disabled people: a psa ] And while I was unable to physically attend the protests outside of Cuomo’s office, I was able to signal boost the social media posts, sometimes adding a bit of perspective, and how this issue, is a matter of freedom and civil rights. And because I’ve spent time in a nursing home, I was able to use that experience to talk about how in these places, care is this dehumanizing assembly line and a place where my health only got worse. I was able to take that crappy experience, and use that to my advantage. The truth is it wasn’t till I got home and received home care services in my apartment did I start to get better. It wasn’t till I lived in my home, was it even an option for me to do some very light grooving / physical therapy to music, let alone activism.

[image description: punk rock styled graphic with a pink graphic and yellow text that reads "Cuomo! Hands off our jobs! Workers Of The CDPA" @ rebel wheels nyc. In the center is a black and white artsy print style image of a woman sitting criss-cross, while raising a fist. She is looking out toward the right, with a proud look on her face. ] And so when I heard the news that our community won the court case, I was thrilled! But I also felt overwhelmed and cried, as ableism and direct oppression from the system is exhausting.  And that’s when I started to reflect on the past 6+ months, and I wrote: “For months, there's been a question hanging over my head. Will Cuomo force disabled people like me into institutions? I'm mostly bed bound. How can I contribute? What do I do with the fear & anger (self care)? One way was to play Nina Cried Power by Hozier, groove, cry & then fight.”

[image description: graphic with blue background. black text reads for a guy who talks so much about justice agendas, cuomo sure is hung up on forcing over 70k disabled & senior new yorkers into institutions #Justice For All  , # Save CDPA] I definitely stumbled along in the way. Trying out different tactics that didn’t always work, like trying to explain why people should care about this via cats. Adorable but not as effective as I thought it would be. I also didn’t really explain enough on the graphic. I also had to recognize the difference between what felt good, cathartic, and comforting to me as an activist, and what was going to reach people, as the two were not always the same. Sometimes you learn along the way.

[photograph of an adorably white fluffy cat, sitting on a table next to a vase filled with various pink flowers. the text reads “ # Save CDPA”] There were also times when I just did not have the energy to take action like I wanted to. Times where I just had to lay there and watch it all happen - which felt horrible. Vulnerable. It was then that I learned that sometimes you need to dig deep and temporarily surrender to the moment. You don’t have to like it, but you have to accept it. The more I try to control a moment that I can not control, the more horrible it will feel. Mindfulness. And learned how to feed my soul within the context of this situation. Make note of what filled my heart with joy, find things that make me laugh and overall make time for a much deeper level of self care. To make a conscious effort to not internalize the oppression. To know that my disabled body is not the problem. Ableism and the system is. RELATED: Ableism? What’s ableism? For me, music played a big role in that. I made many a playlist during that time and eventually adopted other anthems like “Big God” by Florence + The Machine, “Rebel Girl” by Bikini Kill, and the ever classic “Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole” by Martha Wainwright (and more.)

In the end, everyone has something to contribute. It’s just a matter of finding your thing, finding your groove, and then (spoons willing), doing the hell out it.

[image description: graphic. white background. dark blue text "Cuomo. Totally cool with destroying over 100,000 jobs for the workers, while forcing disabled and senior new yorkers into institutions against their will! But good news! He found 49 million dollars to fund vanity license plates." Bottom image of vanity license plate that reads "# save CDPA". Above the plate is a woman looking shocked] On that note, here is Nina Cried Power by Hozier (Lyrics)

[mss4msu]

A Trip to the Zoo

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1165

Warnings: If you don’t like fluff, don’t read this bc it’ll make you feel like you’re living on a cloud.

A/N: This one’s for you @221bshrlocked.  (I don’t know what I’m doing with replies and fics and that’s on me). Love you, Mags <3

“You ready, (Y/N)?” you heard his voice accompanying a knock on your door, making your heart flutter.

“One second, Buck!” you yelled back, putting one more layer of mascara on before grabbing your bag and running to the door. You swung it open, standing on your tiptoes to peck him on the cheek.

“You look cute!” Bucky told you, bringing you in for a hug.

“Why thank you, sir,” you replied with a wink. “So, where are we off to today?” You both hadn’t had a day off in weeks, what with the need to eliminate the Hydra threat and Steve always stealing Bucky away from you for physical therapy on his new arm.

“Well….I know how much you love museum dates and ice cream, but I couldn’t find any museums that serve it, so we’re going to the zoo!”

“You did some googling!” you beamed at him. Trying to teach Bucky to use the internet was like teaching Thor to stop smashing his coffee cups; it took a lot of time and patience. He pridefully puffed out his chest, grabbed your hand, and led you out to his motorcycle. You hopped on and squeezed him tight the whole way there.

“Alright, (Y/N), where do we start?” he asked you, helping you off the motorcycle.

“Hmmm….let’s start with the otters!!” you replied, taking his hand in yours and skipping to the otter enclosure.

“EEEEEEEE!! THEY’RE SO CUTE!!” You squealed.

“Yeah they are,” he laughed, pulling you in to kiss the top of your head.

You both stood and watched the otters for awhile, you tightening your grip on his hand every time they swam past you.

“THEY’RE HOLDING HANDS!!!! AHHH JAMES DO YOU SEE???” You practically screamed at him in your excitement. “THAT’S SO CUTE!”

“Alright, let’s move on to the next animal, (Y/N),” Bucky said, practically dragging you away from the otters.

“Did you know that otters hold hands so that they don’t lose each other?” you asked him.

“Well so do we,” he replied, lovingly squeezing your hand.

“THE LIONS!!” you yelled as you got closer to the King of the Jungle.

“I like lions,” Bucky told you.

“Oh yeah? Why?”

“Because, they remind me of you,” he said, gently moving your mane of thick, curly hair to one shoulder so he could get a better look at you.

You giggled and reached up to kiss him again.

You continued around the zoo, seeing the other big cats, although Bucky was wary of going near the panthers, as well as the giraffes and water-buffalo.

“Dang, they even have camels here!” you exclaimed. “I’d like to ride a camel one day,” you told Bucky.

“You’re such a dork,” he replied, kissing your cheek.

“Can we do the penguins next?”

“Of course, want to stop for ice cream first, since we’re going to Antarctica we might as well eat frozen food!”

“I’m the dork?” you rolled your eyes at him.

You got to the ice cream booth and studied all the flavors.

“(Y/N), why do you even bother looking at the flavors when we both know you order the same thing every time?” Bucky asked you.

“Oh you’re so smart,” you sarcastically replied, playfully punching him on the arm. Your playful punch hit his metal arm a bit harder than you anticipated. “OWWWW!”

“You did that to yourself,” he told you, grabbing your hand and gently kissing it. He then stepped up to the register to order, “Hi, we’ll have a scoop of strawberry in a waffle cone and two scoops, one of coffee and one of vanilla in a sugar cone.”

“I don’t know why you never get two scoops, Buck,” you told him, tasting your ice cream, “one is just not enough.”

“We both know that, if you could, you would have an ice cream buffet for every meal. I prefer more salt.”

“Makes sense since you’re so salty,” you stuck your tongue out at him.

“I know one thing about me that’s extra salty,” he whispered in your ear.

“Ewww!”

“Oh, you like it.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you replied, lightly tapping his butt.

“Alright, penguins?” he asked you smiling.

“Penguins!” you replied happily.

You watched the penguins until you finished your ice cream and then went to see the polar bear.

“What’s next, (Y/N)?”

“All that’s left that I haven’t seen yet are the ostriches,”

“Ah yes, your favorites! I should have known we’d need to see those!”

You walked to see the ostriches and squealed any time they slightly moved. One started walking towards you, much to your excitement.

“AHHH! JAMES!!! HE’S COMING TO SAY HELLO TO MEE!!!!” you tapped him eagerly on the shoulder as the ostrich came up to the gate and looked you in the eye. “THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY WHOLE LIFE!!!!” You turned to Bucky with tears in your eyes.

“I love you,” he laughed, kissing you.

After you had calmed down by walking to see the flamingos, you asked, “Buck, are there any animals that you wanted to see? I feel like this whole day has been about me!”

“Well...I did see that they have wolves here, and I wouldn’t mind seeing them…” he answered sheepishly.

“To the wolves!” you pointed off into the direction you had seen on one of the many signs in the zoo.

“Huzzah!” Bucky replied. Both of you giggling your whole way to the wolves.

“Wow, Buck! Do you see that one??” you asked him, pointing to a wolf that had come out from behind the trees.

“A white wolf…” his jaw dropped open.

“And he has a friend!” you exclaimed, seeing another wolf come to join him. “I told you wolves are pack animals, you dofus.”

“But everyone always says ‘the lone wolf’,” he replied.

“That’s a bunch of bull, no one wants to be alone, not really,” you pulled him down to kiss you.

“Well, I think we have seen everything in the zoo that we wanted,” he told you, walking past a kiosk full of souvenigers.

“OMG JAMES THEY HAVE A WHITE WOLF STUFFED ANIMAL!!!” you screamed in excitement.

“So they do! He’s pretty cute too,” he picked one up from the shelf.

“Yeah he is,” you replied, squeezing Bucky’s butt.

“Tell you what, I’m going to get this little guy for you, but you have to promise me you’ll take good care of him and any time you and I are apart, this guy goes with you so you know I’m still thinking of you.”

“DEAL!” you said excitedly, taking the stuffed animal in your arms and hugging him.

Bucky paid for your new companion and you walked hand-in-hand back to the motorcycle.

“Thank you for such a great day, James,” you told him, kissing him on the cheek.

“Anytime,” he replied, helping you on the motorcycle and then kissing you before getting on himself.

You rode home squeezing tight to both of your white wolves.

[yeonjuins]

AAAHHH YOUR HEADER IS SO CUTEEEEE <33

yaaay !! :) i had some new tea today but i wasn't the biggest fan tbh !! it was jasmine green tea. i'm not really a big fan of green tea HOWEVER i do like apple & pear green tea, that's very nice <3 very refreshing :) i'm so happy it helped !! that's amazing <3

nah i will never drink it, don't like it at all :) that and cappuccinos, they're also gross !!

same... honestly. i don't have anything bad to say about my work, they're really, really good <3 if something happens like on a day where you're supposed to work a full shift, they give you the time off that you need (whether it's medical or something else happens.) i got therapy through my job as well, this was back in 2019 when we were in the office, they had a nurse who worked onsite and she referred me to a therapist who specialised in CBT. it helped a ton <3

"stop being sad" ah yes, thank u very much for that, my mental health is so much better now ty :/. i hate that so much !!!! >:( my anxiety will never go away, and i live with it. i used to always get "stop being so anxious" ALL. THE. TIME. 😠😠😠 still infuriates me !!!

i promise i will be safe 💎 yeah, no, daily walks are definitely going to be a thing even more so as the warmer weather comes in. i have 9 days off in march as annual leave so i'm going to do some walks with my mum <3 we went on walks last year when it was warm and we were doing up to 20k steps. <3 excited for the upcoming 9 days off because i have some nice plans :) i regularly donate blood so it will be my 4th time donating blood on monday 14th !! still get nervous doing it but i want to keep donating :)

that's amazing oh my god 💚 it's always good when you work with people like that <3 it's the same here for poc and lgbt <3 i came out in my previous work and was made to feel like i should have stayed in the closet, i kept getting comments from people about my sexuality (i'm bi) saying the stereotypical "you're greedy" "pick a side" "you're just confused," and it made me feel really sad :( but in my current work, i've had nothing but support 100%. my work are really big on being yourself. <3

aw that's so sweet !!! mistakes can happen !! we're only human. we tend to make mistakes too, like if someone's parcel doesn't get delivered, 99% of customers will be like "it's okay, things happen," and we always replace their goods for them and get those delivered asap <3

my day was great !! i did absolutely nothing :))) although i did some giffing, watched some treasure map videos (i love them sm rn omg) and i also slept until 2pm) i hope work was okay !!! i hope your day was great 🌸💎

(lengthy response!)

AAA I'M GLAD U THINK MY HEADER IS CUTE ;; genuinely so happy wiht how it turned out and i wasn't expecting to get so much love on my revamp as much as i did ;;

oh my god jasmine green tea.... we sold that all the time at the boba place i worked... i can see how it wouldn't be your cup of tea (; (pun intended) i think green tea is fine !! i sort of grew up drinking it at asian restaurants and it was always soothing... for some reason green tea at asian restaurants always hit different than having tea brewed by yourself imo (": i never new apple & pear green tea existed wtf ;0 that sounds so good...

i'm sososoo glad u managed to get therapy through your job... i think talking to an actual professional can help for sure and i rlly hope said professional is the right fit for you (": having a good outlet is so important and i honestly wish it was more accessible to the younger generation despite how much others would advocate there to be ;;

oh my anxiety... ): before i had dropped one of my math courses recently, my friend was helping me study for the test... he sort of pointed out how i was having really polarizing thoughts and catastrophizing everything in which led me to realize... a lot of my anxiety stems from these polarizing thoughts !! PAHAHHA i ended up dropping the course in the end because of the sheer amount of stress it was giving me + i didn't even need it to graduate !!

9 days off in march !!! MARCH BREAK YAYAYA honestly it's the best (also because my birthday always lands the day before march break hehe <3) i'm actually like . not active whatsoever it's embarassing ;; but i do walk a lot since i commute taking the bus + my job requires me to be on my feet a lot !! so i indirectly count that as me getting my steps in (":

that is so lovely that your workplace supports you and your bisexuality ): i wish i prided myself more in my sexuality a little bit more but it's not rlly smth i wanna just spew out to the world right off the bat... that's just me personally though ! regardless, i have supportive people around me that know and i'm glad your workplace is supportive of it as well (":

work went super quick !! i always think my sunday shifts feel shorter than my saturday shifts (although they're literally the same length) but my store has been doing well and we've been making our sales for the last couple weeks so that's rlly good to hear (:< i have today off as well so i'm very happy i get to just have a full day to myself before i get thrown back into the swing of things (aka school <3) PAHHAHA

[rowanfoster]

{ haley lu richardson ♔ twenty-three ♔ she/her } well, well, well if it isn’t rowan foster running around peach hollow. legend has it, she comes from tangerine towers and has lived here her entire life. if you’re wondering what she’s been up to, i hear she’s a make up artist / freelance musician for a living. she has been known to be impulsive yet insightful. a word of advice to her, always look over your shoulder. you never know who is watching.

why yes, it is i, admin kim, with another character that should’ve been kept in the drafts of my mind. if you’ve not met daysia or serenity, here’s a lil low down on me. i’m 26, i use she/her pronouns, and live on the east coast. i thrive on writing angst and my animal crossing villagers being happy. also caffeine. i luv chris klemens. most likely to have a mental breakdown on twitter. meet rowan! trigger warnings for mental illness, bipolar disorder specifically, and inpatient treatment

have a playlist and a pinterest board dedicated to her

rowan celeste foster was born may 27th, 1996. she’s the oldest of two, a baby sister coming to the scene in 1999.

her family is extremely close. they’ve been in peach hollow their whole lives. she grew up in a crowded house on blueberry boulevard, crammed in with her mother, father, sister, maternal grandmother and maternal grandfather. rowan never knew peace or privacy growing up – it just wasn’t possible with that many people which has really contributed to her somewhat isolated adulthood

her mother is a charge nurse at peach hollow general, working on the emergency room floor. her father is a retired car salesman. her grandparents moved into the house when her sister was born in order to help take care of the girls while their parents worked full time. rowan is especially grateful for their care, because she feels like she’d be a little more sour had she been raised by absent parents.

growing up, she shared a room with her younger sister. they told each other everything because they had no choice not to. they both developed an interest in make up and music at very young ages, but rowan particularly took to those things while maci took more interest in sports. when rowan was gifted her first ukulele at age 6, maci got her first basketball. they are polar opposites, but maci was the only person rowan really confided in as a child and an adolescent.

she’d always been rather moody. tantrums and fits were nearly unavoidable. her self esteem lacked before she even had a chance to develop any confidence. she was always the try hard, the girl who stood out because she was just a little different, the emotional one, the one the other kids didn’t want to mess with, not because she’d fight back, but because she would absolutely lose it. there were countless times where rowan ended up in the guidance counselor’s office, waiting on her grandmother to show up and bring her home. that was the beginning of their problems.

her mental health really started to decline in her mid teenage years. she spent hours upon hours in her room, writing songs, playing guitar, practicing make up looks – she’d go days without sleeping and snap at anyone who crossed her path. she got into screaming matches with everyone in the house, only to find herself crying in her bed for the next few days. she started missing days at a time from school, while her artistry thrive, the rest of her crumbled. her grades, all of it.

eventually, this resulted in her parents yanking her out of peach hollow high and putting her in counseling, which lead her to a psychiatrist and a diagnosis of bipolar disorder at the age of 17. while it made sense, she dreaded taking the medications. they numbed everything. her writing suffered, and while her moods weren’t swinging from the trees anymore, she feared that this empty feeling was worse.

she finished her high school diploma in homeschooling with her grandmother while maci went on to thrive in school. the attention shifted to her, and rowan couldn’t really blame them. she turned 18 and started performing in clubs, bars, and anywhere she could get in. ps her voice is a mix of bishop briggs & mary lambert. the thrill of performing to small crowds sucked her in. she began to gain an even smaller following on social media, mainly the locals following her. every once in a while she’ll book a show in atlanta and she’ll make the long drive just to sing in front of a bit of a larger crowd. she’ll gain a few followers from those shows, but this still isn’t her main source of income.

most of her money comes from the make up artistry she does through pop of peach. she doesn’t go in every day, but when someone has an event scheduled or needs their make up done for a dance or something, she’s there. she tries to spread things out bc she’s always late lmao and finds it hard to stick to a schedule

she was doing so well for a few years, even moved out of her parents’ house and into an apartment at the towers. that’s where she really found herself, made some real friends and built relationships that were good for her. however, she missed a few doctor’s appointments and was discharged from her psychiatrist’s office. she went off meds, and for a few weeks it was fine. when she ran out of meds, the next few weeks were okay as well. it was when every single drop of medication had drained from her body that things got bad.

rowan was missing appointments she scheduled at pop of peach. she was spending far too much time out at nights, giving in to alcohol for the most part. she tried not to touch any drugs, but drinking became a nightly thing. she’d perform, then spend the rest of the night partying with whoever she could find at the venue.

one night in atlanta after a particularly shaky performance, rowan found herself in a dark place and simply went into the women’s bathroom to calm down, but police say they found her laying flat on the ground, refusing to respond to anyone. she vaguely remembers the end of the manic episode, but it did land her in the emergency room for a change in mental status.

much to her chagrin, they admitted her overnight before transporting her to skyland trail, a mental health facility in atlanta. she spend about two and a half months there getting medications regulated and learning new coping mechanisms. she was discharged about two weeks ago and finally made it back to peach hollow and her apartment.

she’d lead everyone other than her family and maybe one or two other people that she was away on a musician’s retreat, but really, was in inpatient treatment.

she’s currently working full time as a make up artist at pop of peach and performing when she can, but doesn’t really go outside of peach hollow

fun facts & personality

rowan despises small talk. conversations about the weather or political climate don’t stimulate her and she gets snarky pretty easily. it isn’t that she wants to come off rude or unapproachable, but nine times out of ten, small talk is fake and she feels as though she doesn’t have the time or energy to indulge in it. ask her about the sky or some shit. she won’t shut up

she has a tendency to overshare,  aside from what’s been going on in the past few months. her lips are sealed tight about that. however, she’s open to talking about her mental health and is a big advocate for erasing the stigma. this makes rowan a very good listener and a huge supportive presence for anyone struggling. she’s the mom friend, and no matter what time of day or night, if someone says they need an ear, she’ll go to them. she knows what it’s like to be alone.

despite her past and her demons, rowan finds a way to put on a smile. it might often be snarky or sarcastic, but rarely is it insincere. she’s an empath and feels everything so very deeply, but can easily put it away when necessarily.

her apartment is her safe haven. she rarely has company. it isn’t really her thing. she prefers to go to other people’s places. she has her record collection proudly displayed on her living room wall, all the plants you can imagine, incense burning whenever she’s home, and a scottish fold munchkin cat named loonette after her favorite childhood tv show, the big comfy couch. she has hopes to get another cat named molly to match. you know, because we’re all clowns !

she takes great pride in her instagram. it sounds superficial, but often times, rowan will post a good picture and then link to her next show in hopes that somebody will come based on that. while she does have a passion for make up and a second instagram for it, ultimately, she’d like for there to come a time where she can live solely on the money she makes through music

catch her driving her old ass ford focus blaring 00s alternative, mainly fuckin paramore bc she’s heart eyes for hayley williams

wanted connections if ya made it this far!!!!

childhood friends – those who she’s known since elementary school. they’ve most likely watched her go through her many trials and tribulations in class. these could be acquaintances, close friends, or even a ride or die or two.

bullies – people who fucked with her through school. it’s essential that they’re on bad terms currently, but perhaps an enemy turned friend or romantic could be fun??

group therapy pal – this would be super fun and might entail the person finding out about her secret…. msg me for deets

exes – there will be a couple of these, gender does not matter. i’d like to find one that she was dating when she went into treatment and maybe hasn’t seen/spoken to them since they’ve been back, first love, high school sweetheart?? omg possibilities are endless

flirtationship – self explanatory, gender doesn’t matter she’s pan

any other ideas literally lmk!! thanks for reading ♥