@txkethefall sent: "You're bleeding." (For Athena)

WAYS TO RESPOND WHEN SOMEONE SAYS, "i'm okay."| Accepting

Athena looked over at the kid and down at her arm. A nod from her. "I am." She said. Her hand going over the wound. "But my concern isn't me, but you. We need to get you to safety."

@exquisitexagony sent: [ fears ] sender talks to receiver about their fears & [ blood ] sender notices that receiver is bleeding | arthur and leo.

The gentle waves lap at the shore, sand cold beneath her body as she stares at the stars. One hand is twined with Arthur’s, both engulfed in silence. The only light trickles down from the moon, reflecting hauntingly across the water. Behind them, the dune grasses dance in a soft breeze.

She had been to the beach plenty of times, both as a child and as an adult. Summers spent on yachts, trolling boardwalks, and getting kicked out of bars for being underage. A completely different life than the one she was living now. This life where she had somehow found peace even if on the surface it was more chaotic than the previous.

Her hand releases from theirs as she props herself up on her elbows. She looks at them once, then back out across the sea – back again, except,

They’ve become taller. Their curly hair replaced with a short, side-swept style – no longer Arthur at all, in fact. Eric rolls on his side, a wicked smile on his face. His hand closes around her neck so quick there’s little time to react. He drags her under him, choking, choking, choking –

Leo wakes up gasping for air and hideously clawing at invisible hands on her throat, catapulting herself backwards and off the bed. A few kicks have landed against Arthur’s skin – a terrified scream peels from her mouth as she hurriedly shoves herself into a corner. She flails against the wall, hitting a nail head that’s jutting out and ripping her skin. She doesn’t notice the blood – only thinks she sees Eric when her eyes pop open and Arthur is in front of her.

“No, no, no, NO!” She kicks at them, terrified – trapped in the throes of her nightmare. “Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me.” Eyes are wide and wild, feral almost. “Eric I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

"Spike, this is MY chair and this is MY house and I was here first! I'm not going to get up and turn off my hockey game so you can watch Passions."

From @angel-the-taciturn-shadowy-guy

@angel-the-taciturn-shadowy-guy

"Oh, come off it, you arrogant sod! Passions is a bloody sight better than that mindless racket you've got on the telly. Hang on - did that bloke just hit him with a stick?"

☢ What fads/trends are you so over?

❥ Has someone ever ruined an FC or character for you?

☀ What's your rp pet peeve?

☢ What fads/trends are you so over?

Gosh do I even know any trends, who is to say.

Colored text on dash. I know a lot of people are very taken with it, but differently colored dialogue between characters just reminds me of RPing on vBulletin forums in like 2007. I don't mind it on people's actual blogs, but something about it against the white space on the dashboard is just not aesthetically pleasing to me.

Group Promos/Those "RP Finder" blogs. Basically anything that clogs up the tumblr RP tags with people directing to discord groups or 1v1, for two reasons. One, I run a tight ship here and don't follow a bunch of people, so I use the tags to find new mutuals. Probably once or twice a month, minimum, I go trawling through various general and fandom rp tags to find partners, and those posts clutter up the search. Even worse, while you can block them so you don't see their posts, there's a problem with tumblr (functioning website that it is) where if a search returns too many blocked posts at the start, it'll just never load more, so I have to keep these blogs visible so I can get to the good stuff.

The other reason I dislike them is because they're just not a culture fit for what my idea of tumblr rp is. I don't like huge group RPs where there's an expectation on writing with people because you're in the same group, and I don't often like the RP culture of some other sites, or discord, where people often have existing plots they want you to write, or where OC/Canon "doubling" is expected. I don't like that being brought to tumblr, especially when it's taking up our tag functionality to funnel people off of the site anyway.

I don't know really what to call this one but I guess RP toxic positivity? I don't want to come down too hard on it, because I think everyone's hearts are in the right place, and I don't know if that's really the best term for it, but you know what I'm talking about if I describe it - those posts that are like "I don't care if you take a year to reply, real life is more important!" or "You don't owe anyone anything, your blog is your space!" or "RP is a hobby not a jobby, don't ever feel like you have to take is so seriously!" and things like that.

I think it's a good mindset to understand that writing on Tumblr is not the be-all, end-all of life, and to give yourself some grace about things, but I also think as a collaborative hobby, we do owe each other things. Investment, moderately quick replies when possible, putting in what we want to get out, etc. I think people should curate their space as they like, yes, but also be understanding of the fact that not everything works for everyone, and that's okay too, and people who want some amount of commitment or schedule aren't bad people, they just experience the hobby different.

❥ Has someone ever ruined an FC or character for you?

FCs, not really. Honestly, I don't use icons anymore most of the time, and I can never keep up with the rules around stuff, who "can" or "can't be" used, what's too popular, what's "stealing" someone else's FC. I do think it's funny when people make OCs that use like the most visible characters of the most visible series of the year or whatever, but honestly, I don't really mind either way.

Characters... not permanently, but maybe temporarily. If someone's portrayal really rubs me the wrong way - like, for example, a super comedic portrayal of a character that I connect with or relate to a lot and that I think has a lot of depth - I usually just don't engage with that portrayal long. What more sort of puts a character on ice for me, at least for some time, is when I've had a close interaction with someone, and for OOC reasons, there was a falling out.

In a couple of instances over my, like, 11? 12? years writing on this site, I've had a ship partner or someone who I was very close with, where we ended up falling out as friends for various reasons, and that does always put me in a complicated position. On the one hand, I love the characters they were writing for their existence in canon, but also a great deal of what those characters were to me was defined by the specific portrayals my friends were writing. It would feel weird to move on and pretend those portrayals hadn't meant something to me, even if the friendship was over, and I didn't feel good about finding a new person who wrote that character quickly. Even connecting with the character in the original media felt kind of tinted a certain way, so I put those characters on the shelf for a little while, until some feelings had faded and it felt good to go back to them, whether that was the original material or someone else's portrayal, instead of bittersweet and complicated.

☀ What's your rp pet peeve?

Already answered!

But I will give you a bonus one anyway that we're both very aware of hahaha. People who treat OCs/female muses/female OCs, and their writers, badly. There's a feeling that those characters need to prove that they're worthy of people caring about them, while whatever hot hunky anime guy is in the flavor of the month anime deserves attention just for existing (I am thinking of a Specific Anime Man but y'all will never guess who). Another frustrating wrinkle is that tons of people acknowledge this is a thing that exists, and will lament it as it affects their own characters, and then immediately ignore it when it comes to who they're interested in.

In my many travels, I've encountered people who will write female OCs and make long, sad posts about how no one gives female characters/OCs a chance, and then their own blog is entirely their character interacting with male canons, so in that sense, the little secondary pet peeve here is people who do not practice what they preach on this kinda thing. That will never be me I am an irl girlkisser and girlenjoyer, give me your girls, female muses to the front of the line my characters would like to be your characters' friends and/or rivals and/or deeply complicated emotional and romantic-coded friendship that ends in the most devastating friendship over breakup ever and then who knows

011. in the dining room building a home: a gingerbread home! decorate the home and make it one fit for a little gingerbread man. - lydia!

🌙 * ― 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒: 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ( a collection of various settings for drabbles or prompts, or both!) | @overnightheartbeats

011. in the dining room building a home: a gingerbread home! decorate the home and make it one fit for a little gingerbread man.

The first – and last – time Lydia attempted to build a gingerbread house, it had been a catastrophe. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong: the house itself crumbling, pieces not staying together, icing smudged the whole thing and the candy pieces of decoration fell off. Honestly? It had looked like the wolf from the Three Little Pigs story huffed and puffed and blew the silly, little gingerbread house down. It was all so completely unlike Lydia, someone notorious for her perfectionistic ways and meticulous precision. The hours she spent dedicated to it and nothing to show for it. A complete waste of time. And so, she vowed she would never ever waste her time trying to make one again. Never. Ever.

That was… until Aaron suggested trying to build one. Lydia’s face must have said it all, her nose scrunched up, eyebrows furrowed. “Why on earth would I want to waste time doing that when you can buy one that already looks nice enough from the store?” she questioned, a not-so-subtle ploy of trying to wriggle her way out of it. Aaron had gave her a look that said, really? She wondered what else was running through his mind. Maybe something along the lines of, since when does Lydia turn down a challenge? In that moment, she knew there was no way she was escaping it. Even a small smile threatened to worm its way on to her lips. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? He’d said. She looked at him blankly, eyes going distant as she spoke, deadpanned, “The worst thing that can happen?” A dramatic pause. “I’ll show you.” With that, she cleared her throat, picked up her phone and scrolled through until she found the photo from a good few years ago. Without saying anything else, she passed her phone to Aaron, feeling quite triumphant with herself about being determined, not going through that ordeal ever again. Her gaze fixated on him as she watched his reaction, watched as his expression swiftly changed from being puzzled, to curious and morphed into amusement. Brows arched, Lydia mirrored his face, her hands on her hips as she demanded, “What’s so funny?” Trying to conceal the laughter in her voice as she quickly cleared her throat. But she couldn’t keep a straight face for long. The sound of his laugh was contagious, his smile so wonderful and infectious. Even if she had a severe case of Resting Bitch Face, she couldn’t stop herself from cracking. So, now they were both just laughing. 

In the end, he managed to persuade her to take another shot at building a gingerbread house. “The way I see it…it can only go up from here.” Or something along those lines. Some variations of it can’t get any worse. Earning a playful roll of her eyes, but in the end, she conceded. She’d already lost some of her pride and dignity the moment she showed him her poor first attempt. But at least if this one sucked, then they would suck together. But weren’t two heads supposed to be better than one? If it had been with anyone else, she may have disagreed. Having someone under her feet whilst she was trying to concentrate on achieving perfection? Lydia would’ve ushered them away and not-so-politely told them to go away. But nope, he was persistent. They were definitely doing this.

A quick trip to the store to get everything they need, and more just because they may as well since they’re there… and there they were, diving straight into it. Lydia read out the instructions from the recipe she found on Pinterest after tons and tons of scrolling, and they took it in turns to do all that was needed to do. Getting the things out as and when they needed, she was surprised how comfortable and easy it was to adjust, shuffling around each other. It was amazing how he fit in perfectly with her. No awkwardness, no Lydia getting frustrated because something was out of place or not done to her standards - a shocker. It was all very new to her but it didn’t feel new. It was like they’d been doing this forever. Shuffling around, arms occasionally brushing against each other, smiles on their faces all around. Christmas songs faintly played from the stereo, humming along as they made the dough; humming turned into singing as they waited for the gingerbread to break, happily setting up the dining room ready for decorating. She playfully swatted Aaron’s hand when she realised he was slipping the candies meant for decorating their work-in-progress gingerbread house in for a little treat. “Enough of that, we won’t have any for the -” Until he was the one plopping a gumdrop into her mouth - she wasn’t complaining then. Another laugh tumbled from her lips as she chewed it, leaning in to kiss his cheek gently before the timer on her phone beeped. They were ready!

“Now… now is make or break,” Lydia declared when the gingerbread finally cooled. Everything already set out, ready for them to dive straight in. First, to assemble the house. Her mind cast back to her first attempt, how disastrous the whole thing went. It will be better this time. Had to be. The aroma of cinnamon and ginger filled the cosy, festive-filled atmosphere, every inhale made it all the more tempting to just give it all up and dive right in to gobbling it all up. It was like she was waiting with bated breath, any moment it could crumble and fall apart. But Aaron’s extra pair of hands made it all worthwhile. He would help her assemble the little house piece by piece, holding things in place as she brought the next part out. So far, so good. It was like they had all the time in the world, every piece fitting together felt like a gigantic milestone worth celebrating. And at some stage, Lydia definitely cracked out the bottle of wine as incentive to keep them going.

In the end, it was all worth it. She hated to admit defeat but Aaron was right; it did only go up from there. Though, the bar was pretty low to begin with. And sure, maybe it wasn’t her ideal version of perfection but the time spent with him absolutely was. Lydia placed the final piece, the marshmallow snowman outside the newly built gingerbread house before leaning back against him with a content sigh. “We did it. I can’t believe we actually did it.” A beaming smile on her face as she tilted her head to look at him adoringly, before looking right back at their little creation before them. The walls of the house were slightly uneven, a few cracks in the icing revealed glimpses of golden-brown gingerbread underneath, gumdrop windows a little askew, and licorice shingles overlapped on the roof. These imperfections which, any other time would have had Lydia fuming and threatening to smash the whole thing over the kitchen counter, were the magic and beauty of it. Perfectly imperfect. It was magical because it was theirs. It was something they built together, and it was what they had to show for it. A funky yet whimsical-looking gingerbread house. Feeling him nudge her with his elbow, a grin curved Aaron’s face as he passed her something, a brief flicker of confusion etched on to her face as she lowered her gaze to her hands, a laugh leaving her as her fingers traced the ridges of the gingerbread man - or should she say woman? - before her. “Is this supposed to be me? Wow. Impressive. And, that’s funny, actually, because…” Biting her lip to conceal a laugh or give away the reveal. She couldn’t get her head around the fact they had both been doing the same thing without the other knowing. Putting her gingerbread persona to the side, she picked up the version of Aaron she’d secretly made, laughter finally escaping as she passed it to him. “I swear I didn’t steal your idea! We just…clearly have great minds that think alike.” 

In that moment it was inevitable: this was going down as one of the best Christmases Lydia had in a long, long time.

i like waking up next to you. | noel/theresa :3

@gerrykecy

For a moment, Theresa isn't entirely sure she heard correctly. She is, after all, buried in a tangle of Noel's limbs: their arm wrapped almost entirely around her head, their legs gently pinning to her to the bed. She gives a quiet, "hm?" before her brain catches up.

Immediately embarrassed by her own non-response, she wiggles her face up and out from under their arm so she can, well, breathe and answer properly. Noel seems to notice this and sheepishly draws all of their limbs back into themself, which is the opposite of what Theresa wanted.

"No. Err, I mean, wait." She reaches out tentatively, arm resting on Noel's bicep as lightly as she can. That's probably silly--it's not like she can hurt them, and given that they did just wake up together, it isn't exactly a new boundary for them. But she's feeling a little shy, so she does touch lightly. "I--I like waking up next to you too. It feels..." She takes a moment to pretend to grasp for a word, knowing fully well that she already has the perfect one. "...safe."

"Safe while being smothered?" Noel quirks one of their perfect eyebrows.

Theresa bites down on her tongue, willing herself not to blush. "Well," she starts in what is hopefully a playful tone of voice and not at all childish. "No one else can get me if you've done it first."

Noel laughs, and she can feel the movement of their stomach against her side. She nestles closer, and they take the cue to wrap their arm back around her. "Good point," they sigh. She closes her eyes and feels them press their nose into her hair. "You sure you're good?"

"I'm good," she repeats, tentatively sliding her own arm under theirs and around their waist.

emerald<3!!!!!

X

It honestly feels so nice to have friendship confirmed 🥰

4! Kidding! 11 😘

The kissing booth | Seb/Sam

11. A french kiss/kiss with tongue

Sebastian had just given the other the brightest smile and straighted up form where he'd been leaning against that kissing booth when Sam had walked up the tiny stall. Even if he could feel Britt's eyes glancing his way from her own, tiny but brightly coloured and covered in hearts booth. "Well aren't I just down right lucky today." He teased as he pushed that donation jar before the blond. Even before the others money had hit the bottom of the jar, Sebastian hand reached out to curl against Sam's neck to bring his face close to his, and to let his lips find Sam's pouty, perfect ones as he drew him into a deep, hungry kiss. Like he wanted to drown the other in desire. He drew it out as he nipped playfully at Sam's lower lip before his tongue teased against the seam of Sam's lips before his tongue dived into the others mouth, teasing and tasting, dancing playfully against the other mans as his hand moved up to brush along the back of Sam's neck.

It was tempting to just keep going. To keep this going as long as the other wanted it. God forbid he got god damn hard behind this kissing booth, so soon enough Sebastian was pulling away, his lips giving Sam one last lingering kiss as his eyes met the blonds with a twinkle in his eyes before he dropped back behind the booth. A hand rasing to tease over his own lower lip as he stared Sam's way.

"Hm- thank you for your donation, Sammy." Sebastian replied as hs hand dropped down to the booth again, leaning forward with a smirk that could lauch a thousand ships, Helen of Troy style.

@samevans-wmu

@astormymind asked

“Do you realize what you could have done!?” (from Finn)

"Done what?" She asks as she looks at her nails, her tone careless before she stares at the original, "killed someone? It's hardly a big deal. There's nothing more human than dying, take it from someone who's died twice." She's not sure she would've said these things if she still had her humanity, but she doesn't now. She's mostly upset about the meal he interrupted, that craving for blood still strong.

"What are you doing in Mystic Falls though?" She asks as she walks towards him. Why he's there doesn't really matter, but he's a potential player in all the happenings in this town, and she wants to stay up on all the information, "I thought you'd left. Does you family even know that you're here?"

Let me assign you an aesthetic word

supernova

a supernova is a large explosion that takes place at the end of a star's life cycle. it's big, bright and beautiful, although quite sad. if you got this result, i wanna tell you that even if trauma still haunts you- even if you have scars, either on your skin or on your soul, you're still wonderful. you still shine, you're the most incredible work of art in the entire universe. give yourself more credit for all the stuff you've gone through, okay? i'm gonna speak for everyone and thank you for letting us be part of your life.

tagged by: @mehrere-musen (thanks!)

tagging: @lettherebemonsters (any muse), @feralhippie, @innocencel0st (any muse) and YOU!

☎️ + bradley

SEND ☎️ AND I WILL TELL YOU:

WHAT MY MUSE HAS FOR YOUR MUSE’S CONTACT INFO:

Bradley 🏨

WHAT THEIR RINGTONE IS:

🎧 Britney Spears / Work Bitch

THE LAST TEXT THEY SENT YOUR MUSE:

ANGEL 📲 I stopped by the animal shelter earlier ANGEL 📲 I need you to tell me that rescuing a third dog is insane with the hours that I work

WHAT IMAGE MY MUSE HAS FOR YOUR MUSE IN THEIR PHONE:

@bradley-banner

@heartsbreaking sent: "Why the fuck are you here?" (For Maeve from Cassie)

Fucking Furious| Accepting

Maeve looked over at her. "The tone is unnecessary." She said. "I'm here because you looked like you needed someone, but clearly since you want to be alone I'll leave you to it."

☎️ + maura

SEND ☎️ AND I WILL TELL YOU:

WHAT MY MUSE HAS FOR YOUR MUSE’S CONTACT INFO:

Moora 🐮

WHAT THEIR RINGTONE IS:

🎧 Renee Rapp ft Megan Thee Stallion / Not My Fault

THE LAST TEXT THEY SENT YOUR MUSE:

LORELAI 📲 I didn't cuss somebody out today LORELAI 📲 Wanted to LORELAI 📲 But I didn't LORELAI 📲 😊😊😊😊

WHAT IMAGE MY MUSE HAS FOR YOUR MUSE IN THEIR PHONE:

@maura-cortes

❝ What’d you expect fairies to do? ❞ (Jay @ Evie)

@ofblackskies

“Dress better, obviously. Have you seen the things Fairy Godmother wears? It looks like she got dressed in the dark, half the time. And don’t even get me started on the bows…”

☀ What's your rp pet peeve?

I have a few, so in no real particular order

Dropping threads/not replying to starters without saying anything. I try to be communicative about things when I can (although I'm sure I don't always succeed) and I'm happy to make changes, or move things in a particular direction, do a timeskip, location change, whatever if the need is there. What I can't do anything about, though, is when someone drops a thread with me or sees a starter I wrote for them and decides not to respond without saying anything to me.

It puts me in a state of like "are they gonna reply? should I send them a message or would that be bothering them? if I send in a meme or like their starter call, will they be annoyed because we already have something and they're just working on it? I understand that not every thread can continue for 40+ replies, and not every starter is a 10/10 out the gate, but I can't know what's up if people won't tell me.

Blatantly ignoring easily-available information (especially for ship purposes). This doesn't happen too much anymore, but it used to happen with some frequency, where people who I barely knew, or hadn't written with much, would pitch me on things that contradicted some of the most basic things on my muses' pages. There's a lot to read and everyone makes mistakes on things sometimes, that's not really an issue, but, for example, on some of my other blogs there was a small pattern of people trying to pitch m/f ships for my lesbian characters, when my character's sexuality was like the third line from the top on my page.

Way too much OOC content. People can run their blogs as they like, and it's not my right to tell people what they can and can't do, however, something that personally drives me a little crazy is when I see a new RP blog that will make upwards of like ten posts a day that are aesthetic posts, OOC life updates, shipping calls, memes, and other miscellaneous posts, while answering IC memes or writing threads maybe extremely infrequently. I remember on another blog following someone, and at the point where I softblocked them, they were making three or four posts a day, without fail, and yet I had to go back over two months to find IC content. It's just not really compatible with how I like to handle my experience.

Blog hopping. I understand that there are valid reasons to archive or delete a blog and remake it, but occasionally I have seen people go through like a blog every month or two, or go from having a single-muse blog, to putting their character on their multi, to making a new single-muse, to remaking the multi and putting them there again, to putting them on a single-muse again, etc. etc. The explanation that I often hear is that people want a clean slate, or things got too crazy, they want to get away from some problem, or something like that, but then they will keep the same URL, the same aesthetics, re-follow all the same partners, keep the same ships, etc.

The analogy that I use is like, if you have bedbugs, moving to a new apartment but bringing the old frame, mattress, and bedding is not going to help you. Sooner or later you're going to have the same problems again. For me, as well, it's a struggle to keep up with past threads or interactions, conversations that might have been had in IMs, etc. if they're spread out across lots of different blogs. It's just not really an impulse I understand, and I find it disruptive, especially when consistently paired with dropping all threads and wanting to start new threads with the same characters.

i just don't understand how you don't miss me. - for zoe (shh don't look that I sent two)

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT - THE ANTHOLOGY BY TAYLOR SWIFT PROMPT LIST | @overnightheartbeats

“You really don’t get it, do you?” A puff of breath slipped through her lips; a watery, broken laugh followed suit. If she so much as looked at him, Zoe knew her resolve would inevitably crumble. She looked everywhere but at him. The broken clock on the wall, out of time and ticking too fast - or was that just the beat of her heart? The piece of wallpaper in the corner opposite from them looked like it was about to fall off at any moment. Almost poetic and maybe even ironic, since it mirrored exactly how she felt in that moment. Her gaze averted to the floor, but not before she stole a glance at him on her way down. The heartbroken expression in his eyes, the love she could still see that lingered beyond them. How devastatingly beautiful he was, even when he looked gutted. The painstaking reminder: she did this to him, to them.

Did he not understand how much it was killing her to be apart from him? To purposely stay away from him when all she wanted to do was to pull him in closer, hold on tight to him with iron fists and never leave. But time and time again, she had hurt him with weaponised words of venom and spiteful declarations she could not retract so easily. Eric deserved more than that, deserved someone who could give him everything with no questions asked and not simply the crumbs she was willing to give depending on the day and the situation. She supposed it didn’t help how she kept coming to him for stupid things, and they ended up in circles and circles. One step forward, then two steps back. Then two steps forward and one step back. 

“I do miss you, Eric. I have missed you from the moment I left you. Even now, with you sitting here with me, I still miss you. That’s the problem.” And there it was. Raw, brutal honesty. “It’s a problem because I shouldn’t - I shouldn’t be missing you. Look at us. I did this to us.” Zoe knew she wasn’t making sense, that Eric wouldn’t understand - he never did. They had done this song and dance too many times before: all it would take is a moment, on the cusp of reigniting the flame once more but they fly too close to it. A fleeting moment of weakness for the two soon turns into a moment of regret for her, the guilt a permanent mark and it’s inevitable that she retreats, demanding and reinforcing boundaries whilst poor Eric attempted to fight for their relationship once again. If she couldn’t get past how badly she’d hurt him not once, but twice and probably more than that since she told him, ‘the more you love me, the more I hate myself’ and ‘I’m suffocating.’  Her own words haunted her, especially in the dark when she was alone again.

The way Zoe saw it, she didn’t deserve to miss him because she was the one who held the responsibility for destroying it. Trying to defend herself, she ended up attacking him and her default stance of losing her temper and saying everything in the worst way imaginable resulted in saying awful things she could not so easily take back. “I lost the right to sit around moping the moment I broke your heart.” She left out the part where she absolutely, one hundred percent did exactly that. Moping, having a rage and sobbing until she fell asleep. But that was then and this was now. It was now, she realised, that she should have merely played along with it. Act like she didn’t miss him instead of confessing. Maybe he could move on quicker that way. It would break her heart, but her heart was already far beyond broken anyway. 

Having everything slip through her fingers was a familiar tale and maybe that’s why she seemed so indifferent; she had grown accustomed to life’s relentless game of losses, where each disappointment forced her to return to the start, at square one once again. Whether it was her parents’ letdowns or being screwed over by others, setbacks were her constant companion. Time and time again, she would gather the broken pieces and keep on forward, never looking back. It was second nature, muscle memory. But Eric? He defied her closed-minded processes with an undying love too strong to walk away from. He was the first person who made her feel safe. His love for her was sincere and sacred, a rarity in her world. Something that deserved nurturing, something that was worth holding on to. Despite her best efforts (‘best’ was probably an exaggeration, come to think of it) to safeguard it, she found herself inadvertently destroying the only thing she cherished. She was a tornado, chaos with every hurricane she brought and Eric was always the one trapped in the eye of it, bearing the brunt of her wreckage. How was it possible to ruin the one good thing she ever had?

“I don’t know what you want me to do. I can’t just -” Sighing in frustration, she rubbed at her temples. How could she articulate it all when she didn’t fully understand herself? “If I act like I don’t miss you for long enough, maybe one day I will actually stop…” she trailed off, hesitating as she tentatively peered into his eyes once more. And there she was, falling for him all over again with just one look. “And if I can do that,” she said, her voice wavering as she held eye contact. That felt like worlds away right now. A pause, an intake of shaky breath. “Then maybe one day, you will stop missing me, too.” Perhaps confessing her plan wasn’t the brightest idea. But when she looked at him, she couldn’t lie to him. “I know you refuse to listen when I say you deserve better but it doesn’t make it any less true. I love you and I know you love me, but we’ve seen how this ends, we’ve been here twice before. I’ll be damned before I do it to you again for the third time.” But with the words she spoke, it became apparent to Zoe that maybe she had just done exactly that. “I’m sorry, Eric. I just - I don’t know. I can’t keep doing this - we can’t keep doing this.”