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troop-scoop · 4 years

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Mistakes & Regrets XVIII

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (like, a really slow burn)

Warnings: Swearing probably, memory (In italics), a firearm.

• • •

“Dad, I’ve got it!” You told him, making him step back. For someone who was almost always dependent on your parents for everything, you could be stubborn and self assured.

Will only shook his head, the protective earphones over his head, while the instructor showed you how to hold the gun in your hands. “I still don’t like this.” He told Thomas when he walked into the next room where he and Daniel were sitting by the bulletproof glass to watch you.

Daniel hopped down from the chair he was standing on, going to the restroom while WIll took his spot in the wooden chair. “You want her to be scared of guns? This is a good way to be scared of them.”

Will scoffed a bit, taking off the earwear. “She’s never scared of anything. She can watch horror movies at night and not need all the lights on.”

“She didn’t get that from me.” Thomas jokingly defended.

“Yeah. . . me neither.”

When you’d been born, Will cried for an hour while you slept in his arms. Because while he knew he wanted kids, he didn’t know just how much until you held his finger in your hand. But at the same time, he’d never been more scared, even with what he’d been through as a kid.

“Will,”

“Tom?”

Will looked up at Thomas while he took his seat next to him, a hand on his shoulder. “Do you need to start talking to the therapist again?”

Will shook his head. “No, I’m fine.”

“This isn’t fine, Will. The plan wasn’t to have you working from home the rest of our lives because you’re worried.”

The moment you’d been handed to Will, as a crying, pale, and small little mess wrapped in a blanket, he’d had this feeling that he needed to protect you at all costs, like something terrible was going to happen if he didn’t. It was why he had rules for both you and your brother to follow.

A muffled shot went off from the other side of the wall, and it made Will jump a bit. Barely a second later you came out, brows furrowed and a crease in the bridge of your nose. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I don’t like it.” You said, walking over and sitting by Will's legs.

“Was it scary?”

“No. I just didn’t like it.”

• • •

You sat across from Steve, looking down at the gun you’d brought. The chrome reflecting your appearance, even though it was dark and shaped oddly because of the different indents in the metal, as well as the finger prints you’d left on it.

“Why are you even here if you don’t believe us?” Dustin demanded in a harsh tone, directing it to Max.

Or Maxine. Which is the name you grew up calling her. And if you were being completely honest, knowing that these people, who had been family and who had big roles in your childhood, went through things like this. And that maybe, the entire time, you’d been there, freaked you out.

So then the question arose of, who taught who?

Daniel talked about a time paradox theory once, didn’t he? About if you traveled back in time with a lightbulb, and gave it to Thomas Edison, who really invented it? You, who brought it to the past? Or Thomas Edison? Would it be a forever long loop?

Were you always supposed to end up here? Feeling like all you had was your grandmother, uncle and Steve? All of the phrases and lessons your uncles and aunts taught you that you’d then said back to them now, is this year away from home, part of some big, fucked up loop? God you hoped not. But then maybe you could stop blaming yourself.

“Just go home.” Dustin added.

“Dustin,” You said softly, not liking how he was being rude. Max had every reason to question them about what was happening. Nothing about it was believable.

Max blinked at him for a second before pushing off of the seat she was in “Geesh. Someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?” She climbed up the ladder disappearing on top of the bus.

“That’s good. Just show her you don’t-”

“Steve.” You interrupted, catching his attention and shaking your head. “Care.” He finished, playing with his lighter and looking at the younger boy.

“I don’t.” Dustin stated. “Why are you winking, Steve? Stop.”

You grinned a little, making eye contact as Steve looked at you with a bit of a smile on his face as well. “Don’t be weird, Harrington.” You told him softly, only getting a nod from him.

You were never one for big groups of friends, but you knew that your parents would be worried if you told them you only had one, who was graduating soon and would probably be off doing his own thing come August, too busy to hang out with a sixteen year old.

Steve wanted to go to college, but whenever he spoke about it, it always sounded like he wanted to go not because he genuinely wanted to, but out of obligation. Because someone was expecting him to. He applied to a college back in September, with an essay you helped him on.

“You hear back from the college in Chicago?”

Looking up to you again, Steve shook his head, a bit of hair falling in his face as he continued to play with his lighter.

Sighing, you placed the gun down next to you before reaching your hands out to him, he gave you a look of confusion, before smiling and grabbing your hands, pulling you closer to him. You ended up with your hip against Steve’s thigh, while you rested an arm on his knee that was bent and pointed to the ceiling.

“What about the one in California?”

Steve sighed a bit. “I should know by Christmas.”

“Ya know, if it helps, even just a little, California’s expensive. You’ll have to pay to do your laundry, rent is really expensive, and college is already expensive enough, I don't think you’d need all of that piled on top.”

“Laundry costs money?”

You didn’t mean to, but you laughed, nodding a bit. “Yeah.” You told him. “You would be able to just drive down to mommy and daddy’s to do your laundry if you went to the one in Indianapolis.”

Steve smiled at you, handing you his lighter for a moment, and your first realization was that it was much heavier than the Bic lighters you used to be able to get at the liquor store down the street from the condo you and your family once lived in.

“Or I could do it at your place.” He pointed out, and it made a genuine and lazy smile come to your face.

“Or you could come to my place.” You agreed, and even though it was stupid, it made your heart almost flutter. The idea that Steve would go to your place to do laundry rather than his house seemed silly, but you were for sure more fun than his almost 65 year old father and mother in her early 40’s.

You shared a small smile with him, before looking away and down at the lighter he’d handed you, flicking it open and making an ‘o’ sound when the small flame ignited. “Let there be light.” You joked, looking back at Steve.

But he was already looking at you instead of the small flame you held, an absent-minded smile on his face, almost a goofy looking one.

“What?”

“You don’t have issues.” He observed. “Family issues, anyway. You talk about them like you still love them, and that they loved you. And I mean. . . Carol’s mom never even let her leave the house unless she knew that I’d be the one driving. So from what I know, parents who love you, and care, wouldn’t ever let you move to a completely different town in the middle of nowhere at the age of fifteen, and never even call at the very least. So what happened?”

You could tell he’d thought about it before. Much like how you’d thought about his own familial life. And while you were sure his was complicated, you were sure your own was even more so.

Shrugging you looked at your knee, holding the lighter still, letting the small flame illuminate what little it could. Before you could say anything he put his hand on your knee, mimicking you. “Back when all of this was starting, back when I had that stupid party? We had beer, and cigarettes there, and when I told the cops the truth, my dad wasn’t upset that I was getting drunk or smoking, but because I was ruining the ‘family name’” He used his fingers as air quotes. “

He was trying to make you feel comfortable enough to tell him even the smallest amount about what happened to you and your family, and it worked, because looking at the lighter again, you began to speak. “It was the week after freshman year started. . . They decided to pack up and go on a road trip. Like an impulse that my dad had, he’d never been impulsive before. But we went. And Pa- someone got mad at me, so I ran off.” Looking back at Steve you saw the soft gaze he gave you. “I basically ran away because my family was mad at me. And I haven’t gone back. And I can’t.”

A growl echoes from outside, and within a heartbeat, you, Steve and Dustin were at the little opening between metal scrap to look out the window. The fog covered most of the ground outside, making it near impossible to see ‘Dart’ as Dustin called it if it was out there. All you could see was the pile of raw meat and beat down cars.

Holding onto the sleeve of Steve’s jacket, your eyes darted around, looking for the thing that, more likely than not, was from the place you hated.

“You see him?” Dustin asked, the bill of his hat brushing against your forehead due to the tight space.

You shook your head, but Steve answered verbally “No.”

“Lucas! What’s going on?” Dustin asked, looking to the roof of the bus while you could feel Steve move his arm in your grasp before he took your hand in his.

“Hold on!” Lucas shouted back. “I’ve got eyes! Ten o’clock! Ten o’clock!” Lucas’ voice stuttered halfway through, either from being unsure, or scared.

You pointed to the window, seeing the dark figure that was about the size of a medium sized dog lurking by the edge of the junkyard. “There.”

“What's he doing?”

“I don’t know.”

Instead of going after the raw meat, the thing just stood there, and you could hear the low chittering, it sent goosebumps up your spine, having your grip on Steve’s hand tighten. For a moment all you could remember or even think about, was when you hid in a treehouse, occasionally looking through a crack between two slats of wood to look down below to see one of those.

“He’s not taking the bait.” Steve stated the obvious. “Why is he not taking the bait?”

“Maybe he’s not hungry?” Dustin suggested.

“Maybe he’s sick of cow.” Steve suggested right after, but it came off as more of a statement than a question like Dustin’s. He stepped back from the window, his hand still in yours as he continued to stare at the window for one last moment in thought.

Steve looked to you, his expression unreadable as you gave his hand a light squeeze. “What are you thinking?” You inquired, voice low.

He looked down to where you’d previously been sitting, grabbing the gun and handing it to you, grip first.

Letting go of your hand he stepped towards the door without saying anything. You reached out to grab him, demand what he was going to do, and probably tell him it was a stupid idea, that he’d get himself killed. But that was just Steve, right? Doing things that seemed stupid at first, until it actually worked out in his favor.

Usually, you chalked it up to luck, dumb luck, but still luck nonetheless. But if it was just that, that simple four letter word that was always brought up on Saint Patrick’s Day, then it was going to run out eventually.

But you trusted him, so like an idiot, you didn’t grab him.

“Steve? Steve, what are you doing?” Dustin demanded, worry clear in his voice. “Steve?” You reached out for Dustin’s shoulder, watching as Steve grabbed the bat.

Turning back to look at you guys, he said “Just get ready.” He turned back around and went to the door.

You could feel your heart rate speed up, the blood in your veins go ice cold for a few seconds out of fear, and your hands were unsteady as you held the metal lighter in hand, having snapped it closed when you heard Dart outside.

The loud creaking of aluminum was heard as he opened the door, and for a moment, you found yourself asking any god there was to make sure Steve didn’t get hurt. You were raised by two men who were told all their lives that anyone who was attracted to someone of the same sex would burn in hell, or that they were a sinner. It was no surprise that you weren’t raised with religion. Who would want to raise their child in a religion that condemned something they couldn’t control.

The doors creaked again as Dustin closed them. Looking down at your gun, you could hear your dad’s voice asking you if it was scary, and while as a child, it wasn’t, it was now. All these years older and you’d grown afraid.

“What’s he doing?” Maxine demanded as she got to the bottom of the latter, going to the window where Dustin was watching.

“Expanding the menu.” He answered.

Turning the safety off of the pistol, you walked towards the door, stopping at the first seat and watching carefully from the small opening there.

Through the fog you could see him swing the bat, getting himself ready as he planted his feet. “Steve, watch out!” Lucas yelled from the top of the bus.

“A little busy here!” Steve shouted back, not turning around, Dart and him would be having a staring contest if the thing had eyes.

“Three o’clock!”

You turned to look at Dustin and Max who were already staring at you, seemingly waiting for your next move. But there wasn’t much of one you could make. Knowing Steve, and the manner that he left the bus in, He’d be furious that you left the bus. And while you were never one to listen to a boy not much older than you, or even middle aged teachers, you didn’t know what you’d do if you left the bus and one of them got hurt.

“Shit.” You mumbled seeing more in the direction Lucas was yelling about. You move the two feet to the door, Dustin following your lead as you pulled open the rusting doors.

“Steve!” You shouted to get his attention as Dustin did the same.

“Steve! Abort! Abort!”

You held up the pistol, your index finger finding the trigger and firing as one of the creatures began to sprint in Steve’s direction The bullet barely grazed it.

Steve rolled over the hood of a car as Lucas and Max joined in on yelling at Steve to get him back inside the bus.

You didn’t have much time to think, one second being on your feet, and the next flat on your ass, back against Dustin’s leg as Steve landed against you. Feet pushing the door closed.

One of their arms burst through, and the kids ran to the back of the bus while Steve got back up and began to hit the thing’s limb with the bat.

Pushing yourself up off the ground when you heard Dustin on his walkie and them all scream and get up from the ground you made your way over, as a loud thudding came from on top of the roof.

Max looked at you, before back up at the emergency exit above her. THe fear was evident on her face before she even let out the scream which had you and Steve both running over, with you grabbing Max and Steve pushing the four of you behind him.

“Out of the way! Out of the way!” He yelled, before directing his attention to the dog like creature that was looking down at the four of five of you. “You want some? Come get this!”

Mid growl, the creature looked up, chittering at nothing before he turned and hopped off of the bus, shaking the broken down vehicle in the process.

You were stunned into silence, but you quietly turned the safety of the pistol back on and tucked it away.

Looking at the floor beneath you, you felt someone grab your hand. Looking up you saw Steve looking at you, quietly mouthing the words ‘you okay?’ to you. Nodding you gave his hand a half-hearted squeeze before he began to lead you to the front of the bus, letting go of your hand to open the door and quietly step out.

“What happened?” Lucas questioned, as if any of you would know the answer to his question.

“I don’t know.” Max responded

“Steve scared ‘em off?” Dustin suggested in a more inquiring tone while you stepped off the bus, looking at Steve while he looked off in the direction ‘Dart’ and his friends ran in.

“No. No way.” Steve answered, turning to look at the middle schoolers. “They’re going somewhere.”

• • •

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soaimagines · 7 years

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All Night Long

Request: Imagine meeting Juice in a carpark at 3am and he’s worried about your safety and it makes you cry a bit because you feel like you have no one to call a friend anymore and Juice stays with you all day.

Hmm.

It wasn’t unusual for your best friend to turn up at your house unannounced. But usually you were home when she did. You parked your car in the driveway and hopped out, slinging your bag over your shoulder and bumping the door shut with your hip. Knowing her, she’d probably forgot to pay her power bill or buy groceries and was taking full advantage of your open door policy. You didn’t mind, because when your cupboards weren’t stocked, or your water was running cold you knew you could turn to her. You only hoped that she hadn’t woken up George. Your fiancé had had a late night at work on the night shift and you had slipped out as silently as you could when you left for work this morning. But the office had been quiet and your boss had decided to let you all go home early. You walked quickly to the front door, humming to yourself as you went and you swung the door shut behind you before dropping your bag to the floor. “You better not be eating my oreos!” You kicked off your shoes and walked into the lounge. Huh. No one was in there. You headed for the kitchen and when you saw that it was empty too you frowned and put your hands on your hips. And that was when you heard it. A moan. Coming from down the hall. You gulped and almost instantly felt sick to your stomach. With careful footsteps you crept down the hallway. “Mmmm!” You took another step. Another moan. Two more steps. “Fuck! Yes!” One more step. “George!” You stopped outside your bedroom door. With a shaking hand you turned the door knob slowly, careful not to make any noise. Another moan. You took a deep breath and threw the door open. It was almost comical, the way they jumped, their eyes open wide like a deer caught in headlights. Scrambling to grab at the sheets and cover their naked bodies. Their mouths bobbing open like fucking goldfish. Your fiancé, in bed with your best friend. Your best friend, in bed with your fiancé. Your fiancé. Your best friend. You want to deny the nightmare before you; it just had to be a nightmare, right? Not him. Not her. You had always thought you’d known what you would do in a situation like this. You thought you’d fly into a rage, pummel his chest with your fists, drag her out of your bed by her hair, scream until your throat was raw. But you didn’t do any of those things. You stood, frozen with shock, only able to stare. In the faint distance you hear George, stuttering his explanation. The cliche ‘its not what it looks like’ as he stands, clutching the pillow to his crotch as if you’d never seen his dick before. Now she was scrambling, wrapping the sheet around her naked body as she slid off the bed. You saw her lips, mouthing ‘it just sort of happened’ and ‘it doesn’t mean anything’ but you didn’t hear her. You didn’t hear him pleading with you. Your mind was racing but you still stood, unmoving. “We didn’t mean for this to happen!” We. We. We. Something snapped inside you and you slid the ring off your finger, throwing it in his face before clenching your fist and swinging it into his jaw. “Fuck you!” You screamed. “Fuck both of you!”

“Come on, (y/n). Cheer up.” “Cheer up?! Are you fucking kidding me Chelsea?” Your sister rolled her eyes and slammed another shot before forcing a glass into your hand. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just ya know, maybe its time to move on.” “Jesus christ.” You took the shot and gestured to the bartender for another round. “You do realise I was engaged, right? To be married?” “Look, I get its a shitty situation. He’s a scumbag and she’s a hoe. I get it. But you cant dwell on it forever.” “Its been a week.” “Thats six days too long, babe.” You both took a shot. “Plus, I never liked him anyway.” She shrugged. “You didn’t? “He wasn’t right for you. He wears crocs, (y/n). In public.” You laughed and took another shot before spinning on your stool and looking around the bar. “What am i gonna do?” “Get drunk. Fuck a stranger.” Chelsea shrugged. “Great advice, sis.” You rolled your eyes. “Really though, where do I go from here?” Your sister sighed and turned in her seat too and she leant back against the abr. “Honestly? I don’t know what you’re gonna do. But I know who Im gonna do.” She winked at you and slinked off her chair, walking confidently to the table at the back of the room, where three guys sat. You sighed and ordered another shot. For now, you were allowed to feel sorry for yourself.

“Your call has been redirected to a prerecorded voice messaging system. Please-“ You hit end and sighed. Why was it that no one ever answered the phone when you needed them too. It was the third number you’d tried. First, you’d tried Sarah, your friend. And then another friend, but she had sent you to voicemal. And then you’d tried Susan from work. God you didn’t even fucking like Susan, but you just needed someone to talk to. As much as you loved your sister, and her coping methods, you just needed to voice your thoughts. Nothing was making any sense anymore and no matter how much you drank you couldn’t wipe the memory of that day from replaying in your mind. You didn’t know which betrayal was worse. Absentmindedly you rubbed the spot on your finger where your ring used to sit. At least you hadn’t married him yet. Thats gotta be a positive, right? Silver lining or some shit. “Hurry up!” You looked up from your spot on the bathroom counter and sighed. You couldn’t hide in the bathroom of a bar forever. “Just a sec!” You splashed some water on your face and dabbed it dry wiht a paper towel before you headed back to the table. “(Y/n)! Where’d you go?!” You slid back into the booth next to your drunk sister, who threw her arms around you. The guys from earlier had been shouting drinks all night, and all though you didn’t mind their company, all you wanted was to hang out with your sister. Alone. “So, (y/n), tell me about yourself.” The guy in front of you smiled. TIm, you think his name was. “Id rather not.” You sighed. Chelsea nudged your arm and you rolled your eyes. “(Y/n) here just got out of a shitty relationship.” You frowned and the guys looked at you curiously. “He cheated on her.” Chelsea whispered, loudly. Vodka always did go straight to her head. “With her best friend!” You lifted the glass in front of you and downed it before slamming it down on the table. “Well you know what they say,” Tim said, a smirk on his face. You looked at him with raised eye brows, an unamused look on your face. “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” You grimaced. “Im going home.” Chelsea grabbed your arm and tugged you back into your seat but you shook her off. “Are you coming?” Chelsea looked between you and the guys who were watching her expectantly. “Im gonna stay, sis. You should too!” “Suit yourself.” You turned your back and headed out of the club, trying- but failing to ignore the laughter coming from the table and tears stung at your eyes. For a moment you considered ordering another round of drinks and getting black out wasted. But everything in this bar was becoming too much; the Bon Jovi blasting through the speakers, the clinking of glasses, the raised voices battling to be heard over each other. You decided against it and headed for the door. The night air hit you and you tugged your jacket tighter around yourself. You walked to the carpark and sat down on the curb, pulling out your phone and dialled for a taxi. The operator told you there’d be an hour wait, and after trying the only other cab company in the area and being told the same thing, you sighed and booked it anyway. Why had your sister dragged you to the bar furthest from your motel?! It was too far to walk, and you didn’t really have the energy. Looks like you’d just have to wait.

“Shit.” You tried the lighter again, hoping desperately to see a flame but just like last time the lighter sparked before dying out. “Need a light?” You jumped and turned to look behind you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just um.. I have a lighter,” The guy said, holding out an old zippo lighter and a warm smile on his face. “Thanks.” You flashed him a smile and took the lighter. Your hand met his and you couldn’t help but notice how warm they were. You lit your cigarette. It was your fifth smoke since you’d come outside but you always smoked like a prostitute when you were angry. or nervous. Or drunk, for that matter. “Are you waiting for someone?” He asked. You passed the lighter back to him and he shoved it deep into the pocket of his hoodie. “Cab.” You answered and took a long drive. “They said it’d be an hour. But that was well over an hour ago.” “Huh.” He sat down next to you. You turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t be out here by yourself, I’ll wait with you.” “Its okay. I’ll be fine, really.” “I dont mind.” His smile was warm and he seemed genuine. You shrugged and he pulled his own pack of cigarettes out of his pockets. You looked at him and this time you really took him in. His mohawk, his tribal tattoos on either side, the plain black hoodie he wore. His warm brown eyes. You both sat in silence as you smoked, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. “Im (y/n).” He smiled warmly at you. “Juan Carlos.” You smiled back at him. “You really don’t need to wait with me, Im sure they wont be long.” “Its fine, really. Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be on these streets alone.” You blushed and looked away. The streetlights shone down on you, illuminating your features and Juice studied you the best he could without staring. Why did he even care? He didn’t know you. Why did some stranger seem to care more about you then your own friends and family. The emotions you’d been fighting to hold in all week suddenly washed over you and you turned away as a tear rolled down your cheek. Juice took once last drag of his cigarette before flicking the butt into the gutter. He heard a sniffle and noticed your shoulders slowly shaking. For a second he was alarmed. What had he done?! He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable but he couldn’t just ignore you crying. Fuck it, he thought. He didn’t speak. He just wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly. Which only seemed to make you cry harder and he rocked you slowly. “Fuck.” You laughed humourlessly and wiped your tears away. “Im sorry.” “Dont apologise.” You turned to him. His brown eyes were filled with worry and a sad smile was on his lips. He looked into your eyes. God, there was something so beautiful about eyes that have just cried. Glistening with unshed tears and wet lashes, like an open window into your soul. He was overwhelmed by the emotion you held in your eyes. Your face was almost blank, but when he looked into your eyes he felt every emotion that had washed over you. Your eyes betrayed you, letting him see all the pain you’d been fighting so hard to hold in. He rubbed your back gently before pulling away and rummaged through his pockets. You looked away, cursing yourself for breaking down in front of the cute Puerto Rican boy. When you looked back he had a joint in his hands and he gave you a sheepish grin. You laughed and he lit it, taking a long drag before offering it to you. “You smoke?” “Yeah,” You shrugged and took it between your fingers. “I mean, I haven’t in years. My fiancé hates it.” “Your engaged?” You blew out a long cloud before shaking your head. “Not any more.” He nodded slowly and silence fell between you once more, as you passed the joint back and forth. “Everythings so fucked up.” Juice stood, tossing the burnt out roach into the street. He held out his hand and you looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “Come on,” He smiled. “You can tell me everything over pancakes.” You smiled and bit your lip, checking the street to make sure your cab hadn’t finally arrived. It hadn’t, and you were strangely relieved. “Its 3am. Is anything even open?” He nodded. “Theres an all-night diner in the next street. They do this thing called the Juan Carlos special. Some genius invented it, its world famous. You really should try it.” You grinned and took hold of his warm hand and he pulled you up, that goddamned smile all over his face.

“Jesus.” You whispered under your breath as the waitress placed the food on your table. Two plates each loaded with a four inch stack of pancakes, two waffles, a jug of maple syrup, banana, whipped cream, and a shit ton of bacon. The ‘Juan Carlos Special’. Juice grinned and tucked in, stabbing into the pile of bacon with his fork. “You not hungry?” He asked with a mouthful of pancake. You laughed and shook your head. “I don’t know where to start.” “Bacon. Always start with bacon.” You picked up your fork and stabbed a piece of bacon, moaning when the flavour hit your tongue. Juice grinned across the table. “So, tell me everything.” “You really wanna know?” You sighed. He shrugged and lifted the jug or maple syrup and poured the whole thing onto his plate. “Only if you want to.” He waved a forkful of pancake in the air. “Look, I’m shit at giving advice. But sometimes it helps, ya know. Talking to a stranger. Outside perspective and all that.” “He fucked my best friend.” You blurted out. He paused, forkful of pancake hallway to his mouth. “Seriously?” You nodded. “Asshole.” And just like that you opened up. You told him everything. You told him about your best friend and how you’d met in kindergarten. You told him about your teenage years where you and her would get up to all kinds of mischeif. You told him about the first time you met your fiancé, about your relationship, about the proposal and moving in together. Everything. Right down to when you opened that door and saw her riding his dick. And he listened. Like, really listened. He hung off every word, asked you questions, interrupted you with mutters of ‘douchbag’ and ‘asshole’. “So my sister dragged me out tonight to try cheer me up but she ditched me for some random guys. And no one else answered their phones.” You sighed. “I just feel like I have no one.. ya know? Like Ive lost everything.” “Gimme your phone.” Juice said and pushed away his now empty plate. You raised an eyebrow. “You buy me pancakes and then rob me?” He chuckled and held out his hand. With a roll of your eyes you handed him your cell phone. His fingers went to work and you watched him. You didn’t even know this kid. And yet he was here for you; more than any of your friends had been. He had listened more than your own sister. He made you feel so.. comfortable. You looked away from him and eyed the diner. Its checkered floors, shiny red booths, CocaCola posters from the fifties framed on the walls. Neon lights hung in the window and near the back was an old jukebox playing some Meatloaf balled. He handed you back your phone and you glanced at the screen. New Contact. Juice. “Juice?” “My friends call me Juice.” He explained. You hit edit on the screen. “I prefer Juan, if you don’t mind?” His whole face lit up and he was thankful you were too busy looking at your screen to notice the blush creeping up his neck. “Whenever you need anything. Talk, or pancakes. Call me.” “Thank you, Juan. Really.” You smiled. “Anytime. So tell me, how do you feel about revenge?”

“Are you seriously breaking in?” You hissed. He shushed you and you glanced around nervously while he hovered over the lock. “Juan, seriously. Im not really keen on getting arrested.” He sniggered and pushed the door open before reaching inside and flicking the light switch. “Calm down, (y/n). You aint a crim just yet.” He pulled you inside and shut the door behind you. Your eyes widened as you took in the room; the pristine white walls, bob marley posters. Shelves stacked with different jars and bongs. And of course, that undeniable smell. “So you work here or something?” He shook his head and headed behind the counter. “Nah, I own it.” “Seriously? You own Clear Passages?” “Sorta.” He shurgged. “Twenty percent anyway.” You nodded and paced the store,your arms swinging by your sides as eyed the different strands on the shelves. Juice rummaged under the counter. “You sure you wanna do this?” He asked as he pulled out the container he had been searching for. You bit your lip and nodded. Juice searched your face for any uncertainty before nodding and sliding the container into his pocket. He turned and grabbed a sachet of the shelf behind him before heading out from behind the counter. “C’mon.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the exit, flicking off the light as he went. You entered the street and he locked the door behind the two of you. “Its too far to walk, and I don’t have my car. The cabs-“ “I’ll take us.” Juice interrupted. “Okay.” You walked in silence, Juice leading the way. The streets were becoming quiet as the early hours of the morning rolled in and you shoved your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. You neared a gas station and Juice pointed into the car park next door. “My rides the one in the corner, you can wait there if ya want?” He headed inside and you nodded, stopping at a vending machine and pressing the button for a can of coke. The can dropped and you reached inside and lifted it out. You cracked the lid open as you walked and took a sip. The car park was nearly empty and Juice had pointed to the corner. You lit a cigarette before perching on the hood of the sedan and leant back, studying the stars shining in the night sky. A few minutes later Juice left the store, plastic bag in his hand and you propped yourself up on your elbows as he neared. He sat on the hood next to you and took a sip of the coke you offered him. “Get everything?” He nodded. “His house or hers first?” “His. He works nights so he wont be home.” Juice nodded and leant back against the car and you both looked up at the stars. “Whose car is this?” You turned to him, your brows furrowed together. “You pointed to it.” He shook his head, an amused look in his eyes. “I pointed to that.” You looked where he pointed to the carpark next to you. The carpark occupied with a Harley Davidson Dyna. You slid off the car and glanced between the bike and Juice, who was now smirking at you. You walked around the bike and immediately noticed the fuel tank. More accurately, you noticed the M16 with the Grim Reaper scythe on a pole, and the words that made you freeze. ‘Sons Of Anarchy’. You turned back to him, eyes slightly wide. “Your in a gang?! Jesus, you don’t look like a biker.” “Firstly, we’re a club, not a gang. And what does a biker look like, exactly?” You shrugged. “I dunno. Your not even wearing any leather? And you don’t have a beard. Or a potbelly.” He chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint. I can grow a pretty great moustache, though.” You scrunched up your face and he laughed again before handing you his helmet. “This really not a problem?” He asked you as he swung his leg over. “Nope.” You answered as you bucked the strap beneath your chin. “Have you ever been on a bike before?” “Nope.” He grinned. “Hold on tight. And lean with me.” You took a deep breath and nodded before holding onto his shoulder and swinging your leg over the bike. You held onto his sides and he rolled his eyes before pulling your hands tighter around him. He kicked up his kickstand and started the bike. The engine rumbled beneath you and you squeezed him tightly. He turned and met your eye. “You okay?” You nodded. Slowly the bike began to move, and once he entered the street he turned the throttle, gaining speed. You gulped as he turned a corner but you leant with him like he had told you, despite wanting to lean in the opposite direction and he sped up, making your hair blow out beneath the helmet. Gradually you relaxed, your grip around his waist becoming looser and you sat up straight. The scenery rushed past you in a blur and a grin spread over your face. You had never felt more alive.

“Motherfucker.” He stopped walking and stood next to you, glancing in the direction you were glaring. “Whats wrong?” “Thats her car.” He saw the pain in your eyes as you looked at your best friends car, parked where you used to park yours; in the drive way of the house you had shared with your fiance. He grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze. “Come on.” You nodded and moved forward, dropping his hand. Juice couldn’t help but smirk as he watched you creep across the street, your body hunched and your head glancing from side to side and he snorted as you army rolled behind a bush. He walked casually across the street and smirked as you hissed at him to hide. He knelt down next to you and you turned to him with wild eyes. “Do you want us to get caught?” You whispered angrily. “Jesus christ, we’re not breaking the law.” “Sorry, I forgot you were a gangster.” You rolled your eyes. “You probably don’t care if we go to jail.” He fought a laugh. “Its a club, not a gang. And its your house, (y/n). You have a key.” You nodded and pulled the hood of your jacket up and pulled it as low as it could go. “So whats the plan, Chief?” Juice whispered. “You start out here. I’ll head inside.” Juice nodded and watched as you crept to the front door, silently fumbling with the keys. Meanwhile he pulled the can of spray paint out of the bag and got to work. You pushed the door shut behind you, careful not to make any noise. You felt sick as you looked around the house. The moon was bright tonight and the room was dimly lit. After a while your eyes adjusted and you looked around the room. The photos of you and your fiancé were still littered over the mantel piece and everything looked just as you’d left it. Except the heels scattered next to the door, and the coat draped over the back of the sofa. You gulped and tip toed into the kitchen. Every Wednesday afternoon you had baked. Brownies, cakes, cookies. You had always liked baking and George had always loved tasting whatever you had cooked up. No matter what, there was always some fresh baking in your cupboards. Which was perfect, because you knew when George got home he would head to the cupboard and eat whatever baking he could find, without a second thought. You placed the container Juice had given you in the cupboard, smiling to yourself. George wouldn’t even notice that these brownies were.. special. Next you headed for the refrigerator. Your best friend staying here meant that you didn’t need to make two stops tonight. Every morning she had a big glass of orange juice. You pulled the carton out of the fridge and opened it carefully before dumping the powder in and shaking it gently, making sure it dissolved. It was only a laxative, completely natural, Juice had reassured you. You knew she had a big meeting tomorrow, and you smirked. Its a shame she would be glued to the toilet. You had just placed the carton back into the fridge when Juice entered the room. “You ready?” He whispered. “Almost.” You reached for the drawer and pulled out a large knife. You gave him a wink and grinned. His eyes went wide as he saw the wild look in your eyes and the smirk on your face and he grabbed your wrist. “Are you crazy?! Put it down.” “No.” “What are you gonna do?! Stab her?!” He hissed at you. You rolled your eyes and left the kitchen, Juice hot on your heels and you stopped when you reached the lounge. “Hold this.” You passed him the knife. “Why, you wanna get my prints on the murder weapon?!” You scoffed and tip toed over to the mantelpiece. Carefully you lifted the first frame. It was a photo of you and George on your first vacation together. You pulled the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and pressed your palm against the frame, silently shattering the glass. You placed the frame back on the mantel and repeated the process with the remaining frames. Juice watched you and when you were finished you walked back to him and grabbed the knife. He followed you through the front door and pulled it shut behind him. You locked the door and shoved the keys back in your pocket. “Whats the knife for?” He whispered. “This.” You walked across the driveway and stabbed the knife into the front tire of her car. The air hissed out and you pried the knife loose before stabbing each of the remaining three tires. Juice had crossed the street and you walked over and stood next to him. He draped an arm around your shoulder and you both looked at the house. Juice had done well with the spray paint and you smiled as you looked at the work he’d done. ‘Cheat’ was spray painted in large letters on the garage door. He’d written ‘homewrecker’ on the bonnet of your friends car and the walls of the house were littered with other profanities, and next to the front window of the house he had painted a large penis. “Nice touch, Picasso.” He bowed and you both laughed. “So what now?” “We wait a few hours and then I ring his work and make an anonymous tip about the staff using drugs. If he eats the brownies he’ll fail the drug test and lose his job.” You smirked. Sure, a part of you felt bad for what you’d done. But it was only a very small part of you, and you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind. Slowly Juice pulled you away and you walked together in silence back to his bike were you’d left it further down your street. He passed you the helmet and you both hopped onto the bike. You pressed your cheek to his back as he rode through the night, the crisp air brushing over you and you closed your eyes. He smelled good, his cologne mixing with the faint smell of weed and the scent filled your lungs. You clung to him tightly, his warm body pressed against yours. You felt light, like all your baggage had finally been left behind you. Who knew all it would take was one night with a Puerto Rican biker boy. The bike slowed and you finally took in your surroundings. He had brought you to the water tower on the outskirts of town. “Come on, we gotta hurry.” He dragged you to the ladder and you shook your head. “No way. I ain’t climbing up there!” You crossed your arms over your chest. Juice rolled his eyes and tugged your elbow gently. “Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” His eyes were full of promise and pleading and you sighed. “Fine. But if i fall to my death please make sure they dress me in something cute. I don’t wanna be buried in these jeans.” And you started to climb. He didn’t know why you disliked those jeans so much. From where he was looking, they looked great on you. Although he was climbing the ladder beneath you, and honestly it wouldnt matter what you were wearing, this view made your ass look great. It only took a few minutes to reach the top and you stood shakily on the platform. “Holy shit.” You whispered. You could see everything from up here. The shining lights of all the houses in Charming and even Lodi. Everything was so small. Juice sat down, swinging his legs off the edge and resting his arms against the lower railing. You copied him and he pulled out another joint and lit it before offering it to you. Together you shared the joint and together you watched as the large glowing sphere of the sun rose slowly into the dull morning sky. It cast sunbeams in every direction as it illuminated the small town, like an arsonist setting the sky on fire. Below you in the trees birds began to chirp a background melody as the pure scattered light lit up every inch of the land below you. Your breath paused in your lungs and you wished time would stop. In this moment everything was forgotten. You forgot the heartbreak you’d endured, the betrayal. You forgot the boring motel room that was now your temporary home. You forgot that no one had been there for you when you needed them most. But the one thing you didn’t forget was Him. The first night you spent with Juan Carlos was a memory that would live on inside you forever.

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@i-want-to-be-watered-by-roger @danleto97

If you want to be added to the tag list for any, or all the Sons please let me know x

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ellawritesficssometimes · 7 years

Text

Brighter Daze – Day 7 Spamano One-Shot

@weekofhetalia

Demons and Angels prompt!

Summary: Lovino loses his family in a devastating car accident. He becomes homeless and loses hope until a voice guides him on the right path again. It just so happens that Lovino has an uncanny habit of attracting trouble. (angel Spain! x human Romano!)

When life gets you down, an optimist would tell you to get right back up again and to keep on fighting. But, how could one fight when there was nothing to fight for? – the pessimist in myself asked. And for the longest time, I let that negativity win.

Life is a bitch to me, it always has been. The last straw was five years ago; I had been driving home with my Nonno and little brother, Feliciano. We were enjoying ourselves. Well, at least they were enjoying themselves, as we had just come back from one of Feliciano's art exhibits. God, he was only sixteen. He was just so full of life and potential. Of course, fate just had to fuck everything up by ruining it all.

At 9:30 PM, on February 12th, 2012, we were struck by a drunk driver.

At 9:31 PM, I had lost everything I've ever cared for.

Feliciano and Nonno died on impact – so did the driver who had killed them.

At seventeen, I became an orphan. The foster system wanted nothing to do with me since I turned 18 a month later. I had no money, no home, and nothing to call my own. I lived on the streets, pickpocketing what I could to survive.

I was miserable. I felt useless. I had never been wanted. Feliciano had always been the brighter, livelier, and kinder sibling. I was used to being overlooked by everyone. And could I blame them? I was a sorry excuse for a person; lazy, short-tempered, and entitled. I let my family do everything for me. Whether it was chores or cooking meals, I never helped out with anything – I had taken it all for granted.

Being alone and having no one made me realize just how dependent and pathetic I was. I kept telling myself that I would have never amounted to anything anyway, car accident or not. This rationalization was the only thing that kept me going.

And then, out of nowhere, a voice spoke to me. I don't know what it was, or where it came from, but somehow, I knew it was a part of me and that it was there to help. It told me that my family would have never wanted me to feel sorry for myself, and that I shouldn't feel guilty for surviving either.

Instead, it told me to aim higher, to better myself and to reach my full potential. A spark ignited in me, and somehow, I managed to get a job as a waiter. Then I got another job. Then I found an apartment. Then I got a laptop.

Everything just seemed to fit together. For once, I wasn't falling apart. That voice resonated with me, urging me to put myself together and to make the most out of my life. It believed in me, and after a while, I began to believe in it.

I applied for university, and at nineteen years old, I got into the program of my dreams on a full-scholarship. I've never tried in school, always being paralyzed by the fear of being outshined by others.

That voice, which had now become my gut instinct, told me to put my everything into my studies. Three years later, and here I am, in my third year of my Political Science degree, on the motherfucking Dean's list of all things. I had big dreams now. I refused to let my anxiety prevent me from achieving what I wanted. I was tired of doubt; I just wanted to be happy.

I deserved to be happy.

Too bad the universe didn't think I deserved it.

…

The crisp October night was freezing to the bone, casting an early darkness over the campus. I despised winter's saving time like you wouldn't believe. It just made everything more depressing when you came home from a five PM lecture; it felt more like it was midnight.

Leaves rustled on the cobblestone pathways, and dim lampposts lit up the bus station I was heading to. I had just come back from writing a mid-term, so my only plan was to go home and sleep to make up for the how many hours I had lost cramming last-minute information into my caffeine-logged mind.

Shivering, I wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck, clenching my gloved fists to spread the warmth to my fingers.

I had almost reached the bus station when something caused me to stop in my tracks. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, a wave of uncertainty clouding the air. Something wasn't right. I don't know what, but I've learned to trust my gut instinct. It was never wrong.

That voice, it always kept me out of trouble. It brought along a warmth similar to the sun's rays, brightening my day if I was feeling down. It was almost dopey, that's just how optimistic and silly it was. I've speculated the possibility of it being a separate personality, a coping mechanism to distract myself from the misfortune in my life. It just felt so real for it not to be.

But now, the voice wasn't encouraging or nurturing me; it was telling me to run, to call the cops, and to get the hell out of here.

A sharp clap to the left prompted me to turn my head. I was looking into an alleyway at the side of the main Arts building. It was a place where professors and students came out to smoke, a perfect spot to lurk in the shadows and keep out of view from other people.

Without realizing it, my feet led me towards the alleyway, ignoring the voice in my head that was begging for me to turn away.

When I heard a girl let out a blood-curdling scream, that's when I started running.

Nonno raised me better than this. I was taught to be kind and respectful to women, to help them out, and to defend them with my life if needed – perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the point.

Call the police! Don't endanger yourself! They can handle this!

It was too late to call the police. Whatever the altercation was now, the police wouldn't get here in time. My shoes slapped against the ground in uneven stumbles and steps as I sprinted forward, my bloodstream surging with adrenaline.

I entered the alleyway, screaming at the top of my lungs when I saw a masked figure pinning a girl against a brick wall. Both figures were struggling, but the masked one was the larger of the two by a wide margin, easily triumphing over her in strength, weight, and height.

"HEY!" I bellowed, only to be ignored.

The girl moved into view, green eyes widening in the dim light. I immediately recognized her from my Theories class – Bella Maes.

"Lovino!" Bella shrieked, her short blonde hair flailing as she punched her assailant in the face. "Get out of here! Go! Get help!"

"Like hell I'm going to do that!" I growled, balling my fists. "I'm not leaving you here with this psycho. Hey, you disgusting pig! Over here! The fuck do you think you're doing! Why don't you pick on someone who can actually fight back?!"

The masked figure wasn't paying attention to me, probably because he was holding his assaulted nose with one hand.

"Lovino, you don't understand!" Bella wailed. "This doesn't concern you. Please, don't get involved. I don't want you to get hurt!"

Bella's words didn't register with me; I wasn't leaving this alleyway without her safe and unharmed.

"You dirty fucking bitch!"

Bella screamed again when her assailant slapped her, hard, an ear-deafening sound I absolutely refused to hear again.

I was only a few paces away from them now, infuriated when the man pressed his face close to Bella's, one hand now wrapped around her throat.

"Where's the money, sweetheart? Your brother hid it with you, didn't he? He should have never gotten involved with this business knowing that you could be used as collateral!" the assailant snarled, voice deep and raspy from many years of smoking.

"You're a pretty little thing, I'll give ya that. It's such a shame this might be your last night alive. I'll repeat myself again, nice and slow because English isn't your first language: where are you keeping the fucking money?"

"I don't have it!" Bella choked, gasping for breath. "I already told you! I keep out of what he does. I don't know anything."

"You're lying. Don't play with me, doll. I'll get you to talk, even if it takes me all night."

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't know! You're wasting your time!" Bella snarled, revealing a fury I hadn't ever thought possible from such a normally sweet person.

"I SAID GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER, YOU JACKASS!" I shouted, planting my feet firmly on the ground, panting from exertion.

Get out of here! Go! What are you doing?!

The assailant finally turned around to glare at me through the holes of his ski-mask. "Who the fuck is this bozo? Your boyfriend? Or does he deal for your brother? Better get talking, bitch, because I'm already running very low on patience. You don't want to test me, the last person who did that ended up six-feet under. But as for you? I think I'll have my fun, take my time, ya know? That is, before I leave you to rot in a dumpster, along with the rest of the whores who poke their pretty noses where they don't belong."

"Don't talk to her like that!" I exploded. If I screamed loud enough, maybe Bella's attacker would get the message and run. Campus security should have already heard this scuffle; what was taking them so long?!

"Lovino…" Bella pleaded, eyes widening as the hand around her throat tightened.

"I'm not leaving you, Bella. Just shut up!" I panicked. Crap, how was I supposed to fight this guy?! He was fucking colossal. Still, I refused to leave.

"Well, doll? Who is this asshole to you?"

Bella paled. "He's not my boyfriend…o-or friend! Don't hurt him, please! He's not a part of this!"

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want if it gets you to talk." My heart stopped when the assailant reached into his tan trench coat, pulling out a gun with his dominant free hand. He aimed it at my head. "Are you one of Lars's boys?"

I froze like a deer in the headlights.

"ANSWER ME!"

"N-no," I stammered. "I don't even know a Lars. I just know her, she's in one of my classes."

What the fuck did I just get myself into?

"He's telling the truth!" Bella wheezed. "Please, just let him go!"

The assailant laughed, it sent shivers up my spine. "Well, brat, you've seen a lot of what you shouldn't have. I'll give you one last chance to walk away, squeaky clean. Don't try to get all heroic on me. This cunt deserves whatever I do to her. Let's not be stupid, yeah? Walk away. And you best believe that if I even hear one word of you talking to the police, I'll put a bullet straight through your fat head. I'd rather not have to deal with you, so be grateful and take what I'm offering here."

"I'm not leaving," I said through clenched teeth. "The police will be here any minute," I lied. "I've already called them."

That's what you should have done! Why didn't you?!

"You little shit," the assailant growled. "Didn't they teach you in pre-school to mind your own business? Well, lemme teach you a new lesson. Open your fat fucking mouth and you pay the price. There's nothing those useless pricks can do if they're not here…"

Click!

Bella shrieked.

The next moment went by in a blur. The assailant let go of Bella out of shock; her voice was penetrating, echoing off the cement walls in painful vibrations.

Bella surged forward, shoving the man in the chest. She took full advantage of his stunned state, easily toppling him over.

The gun went off as Bella proceeded to tackle the assailant, knocking him unconscious as he had smacked his head hard against the concrete ground.

Meanwhile, my vision began to fade.

I went numb, reaching up to touch my right ear. Something warm and sticky began to coat my hand, then my wrist, and then my whole arm.

I don't know how or when, but I fell to the ground. Next thing I knew, warm droplets fell on my face.

"L-L-Lovino! Oh g-god, no!" Bella sobbed, placing pressure against the side of my head. "Hold on, damn it! Hold on! Help is on its way. Oh god! I'm so sorry! This is my fault! No! This is Lars's fault… Why didn't you r-run?! Please, please, be okay!"

Hardly able to speak, I smiled weakly. I choked up blood and spoke in a raspy whisper. "You know I couldn't just leave you like t-that. Smile, Bella. At least you're safe. I don't want the last thing I see to be…"

My vision blacked out.

Sirens wailed in the background.

The cold was no longer numbing.

I had lost the feeling of warmth the voice gave me the moment I stepped into the alleyway.

My body went slack.

So this was it, huh?

I can't say I regretted what I did.

Perhaps Nonno and Feliciano would finally be proud of me.

I was proud of you regardless! How could you just throw away your life like that, like it didn't matter at all?! You were loved right where you were! I- I…lo-! I failed you…

…

I woke up with a start, immediately gasping in pain. The ground beneath my feet was hot, consisting of coal stones with several cracks in them. It was almost as if I was in a volcano, except the space felt endless. The air was muggy, grey, like a smog cloud full of carbon dioxide. I could hardly breathe.

I sat up, noticing that I wasn't wearing any clothes but boxers. The skin on my back and thighs felt raw to the touch; it didn't help that the soles of my feet burned as I walked forward a few steps, occasionally hearing a sizzle and hiss of fire go off in the distance.

I was in a daze, everything was too bright for my vision to settle.

"Am I…in hell?" I wondered out loud.

If so, I wouldn't be surprised. I had done a lot of regretful things after the accident, all of which I wasn't proud of.

I suddenly felt claustrophobic. It didn't help that I was having trouble getting air into my lungs. What made me feel most nervous was the fact that I had no gut instinct about this place. I didn't know what to do, where to go, or what to think and feel.

I was lost.

"Not yet, you're not," a smooth voice spoke amongst the spoke, emitting a chuckle that reminded me of the sound of glass cracking. It had a very thick French accent. "This isn't hell, we still have to judge your soul. Although, seeing how your purgatory manifested, it is very likely that you will end up in hell, you naughty, boy, you," it teased.

"Who are you?!" I shouted. "Show yourself."

"But of course." A man wearing denim jeans and no shirt popped into view. He had shoulder length blond curls, sapphire eyes that sometimes flickered red depending on the angle you were looking at him from, and a thin, pale, and muscularly sculpted body. A red pointed tail poked out of his – or should I say its? – pants, curling so that it didn't touch the molten ground.

"Bonjour, mon petit, don't you look delectable?" the demon mused. "Lovino Vargas, you've been quite the brat, haven't you? Handsome, non. More like a vixen; a forbidden fruit tainted with self-doubt and insecurity. I can't wait to have my chance to devour you, to cherish every inch of your pathetically hopeless soul."

I backed away in fright, stumbling over my feet. "S-stay the fuck away from me!"

The demon only proceeded to walk closer to me, smirking as if he sensed my fear, feeding from it and licking his thin lips. He grew larger, or perhaps that was just my imagination.

"Hmmm, let's go over your life, shall we? You were a lazy good for nothing child. Ungrateful!"

"NO!" I screamed.

"Oh yes! You were, weren't you?! You expected everything to be handed to you! You don't know what hard work is!"

"That's not true!"

"You pick-pocketed! You stole from the innocent! You got into relationships, breaking hearts as you dragged and led them on because you were selfish! Greedy! Adulterous! You cheated! You lied your way to the top like a miserable slug! You're a disgrace! You belong with me! You belong in hell!"

"NO! SHUT UP! I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE!" I wailed, covering a hand over my ears.

I screamed in agony, feeling the demon pry into my mind, pulling out anything he could use against me.

And then, I felt the warmth return to me.

"He belongs in no such place!" a familiar voice yelled.

The smoke cleared, making it easier for me to breathe. Stunned, I removed my hands from my head, straightening my posture as I turned to look at the person standing beside me.

They were taller by a few inches with tanned skin, a messy mop of brown curls, green eyes, and an equally-matched physique to the demon leering before us.

The angel, I presumed judging by his white shirt and pants, refused to look me in the eye, glaring at the demon instead.

"Be gone, demon," the angel warned. "Lovino does not belong with you nor does he belong with me. He is his own person. He belongs in heaven, in God's arms with his family at his side. He has done many bad things in the past, yes, but he has a heart of gold that is worth more than you beings without remorse can ever comprehend. A person who betters himself is a person who deserves forgiveness."

The angel turned to look at me, but not in the eyes, placing a warm tanned hand on my shoulder. He looked…sheepish. I was too petrified to question his odd expression. "Lovino, listen to me. You must think of yourself as worthy to enter heaven. Your soul is both good and bad, but if you let the negativity consume you, there is nothing I can do to save you.

"Remember who you are, the boy who volunteers at soup kitchens now, the boy who makes a strong effort to give money to the homeless because he was one, even if he can't afford it… The boy who works day and night to make something out of himself. The boy who tutors for free in his spare time. The boy who forgives too easily and never wants to hurt others because he knows how it feels to be left behind. The boy who-!"

"My my, I've never seen an angel so invested in a human before," the demon drawly remarked. "Am I sensing some sexual tension in the air? How lovely, you two have history. Too bad he's mine for the taking."

"THE FUCK I AM!" I protested, responding to only what I understood.

The demon curled his lip at me, sharp canines bared. "You will learn who your master is soon enough. A sharp-tongue will only attract sharp objects in a place like this."

The angel placed an arm in front of me as the demon continued to advance.

I panicked when the smoke materialized again, choking for breath. Geysers of fire erupted in the distance.

"Lovino!" the angel commanded. "Do not let your fear paralyze you! That is what the demon wants! I…I must show you then, it's the only way."

The angel placed a hand on my forehead. My eyes closed. When I opened them, memories flashed before my mind. I saw myself from an outsider's perspective, handing food to the homeless, tutoring struggling students, and lastly a memory of where I had helped bandage a six-year-old Feliciano's knee after he had tripped and fallen on the pavement.

Feliciano. I'm sorry…

NO! DO NOT THINK SO NEGATIVELY! NOT THAT! ANYTHING BUT THAT!

This time, I was in control of my body as I experienced the memory firsthand; it was a memory I had long tried to repress and forget.

I was sitting in the back seat of the car. Blood poured out from my forehead. It was dark, my vision was blurry; the only thing lighting up the area were the street lights at the intersection. We had a green light, but the person hadn't stopped.

He had crashed right into the side of the driver's door.

The airbag was out; two bodies were lying in the front seats, lifeless.

I screamed, struggling to get out of the car. I choked from the scent of blood. I couldn't hear anything; my ears were still ringing.

I nearly tripped, placing both palms against the other driver's car. I looked through the smashed front window to spot a familiar mop of brown hair lying against the driving wheel, green eyes blank, staring into nothing.

I turned to throw up onto the pavement, collapsing at some point.

You, it was you.

Yes, it was me. I'm so sorry.

Why.

The voice, the warmth, it disappeared again, leaving an unthinkable amount of guilt behind.

I knew now. I knew who he was, and how much he had regretted what he had done. How he had labored about it this whole time, looking after me to make up for his grave mistake. He was the one who had pushed me off the streets. He was the voice in my ear when I had needed him most.

His name was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. He was 21 years old when he had gone out with his friends on the night of his birthday. He hadn't planned to drink so much, nor had he planned to kill two innocent people and ruin the life of the remaining survivor.

He became my angel when he saw how much I had suffered, still suffered, because of him.

His love, affection, and encouragement was what had ultimately pushed me forward.

And now he had left, too afraid to show himself once he knew that I had found out who he was.

I hated him, and yet… I didn't.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was back in the endless molten pit, staring right into the smug sapphire eyes of the demon.

"You're back already?" he leered. "You must have missed me dearly. Come, lapin, it is now obvious where you belong. Let that hatred fuel your revenge. You will have the opportunity to spite those who live the good life, the life you were never given."

The demon reached out a clawed hand for me to grab, its tail twitching in anticipation.

I bit my lip. "No."

"Excuse moi?"

"You heard me, no. My Nonno didn't raise me to hate others just because they were better than me. He taught me to aspire after them, to look up to them as a role model in order to better myself. I don't belong with scum like you, those who are run by envy and vanity. I will never join you so long as I have a choice."

The demon took a step back, only to yelp when the rocks beneath his feet splashed into a flowing current of lava. "N-non," he muttered to himself. "I don't understand! It can't be! His family's murderer is right before his very eyes… How can he forgive something like that? C'est impossible!"

"Get out, you're the one who doesn't belong here," I snarled, feeling a surge of strength envelop in my chest.

The demon shrieked, pinned by an invisible force, claws desperately trying to latch onto the ground that only continued to crumble at the touch.

I clapped both hands over my ears again, refusing to listen to its desperate pleas as it burned into ashes, likely being dragged down to hell, where it damn well belonged.

Suddenly, the air became cooler; warm, but pleasant. The ground tickled my feet. I heard birds chirping.

Disoriented, I looked up into a pure blue sky, quickly glancing down to find myself standing in a field of knee-high green-as-green grass. There was a creek in front of me with one oak tree resting at the edge of the current.

I was wearing clothes again, the same white pants and shirt the angel had on.

Speaking of whom.

I immediately recognized the figure sitting under the shade of the tree, posture slumped as his head rested in the arms that hugged his legs close to his chest.

My gut instinct was back: my purgatory reflected the goodness I saw in my heart now. I was one step closer to heaven.

But first, I had to make amends with the person who had wronged me; the person who had taken away everything I've ever cared about.

Silently, I sat next to the angel on the grass, inhaling the rich scent of soil in the air. Everything was so clear, so pure. I was a city boy. I wasn't used to seeing nature at its very finest.

Still, it felt like I was breathing for the first time, devoid of worries, regret, and most important of all, bitterness.

I was free.

Well, almost.

I sighed. "Antonio, can you at least look at me? I think you owe me that."

Surprised, Antonio glanced up, meeting my eyes for the first time.

My first thought was that he was gorgeous. His eyes were a rare green, bright and lively despite the burden of guilt they carried in them. His cheekbones were sharp and chiseled. There were laugh lines from when he had still lived. I could tell that he had been a happy, cheerful person.

Brown curls swept in front of his eyes as he sniffled. There were wet tracks on his cheeks, tears still occasionally splatting down against the grass-bed beneath us.

"Why?" Antonio asked with a croak. "How can you sit here and look me in the eye after I killed your entire family? You should be yelling at me. I don't deserve your kindness."

"I've done enough yelling and screaming, don't you think?" I countered softly. "It got me nowhere in life, and I don't think it will now."

Antonio didn't respond.

"I forgive you," I blurted out.

Antonio's eyes widened.

"I know you didn't mean it. I still hate what you did, don't get me wrong, but now that I know there's an afterlife, there's no point in me hating you."

I'll get to see them soon, finally, after five miserable years.

"L-Lovino!" Antonio choked. "I'm so sorry!"

"Shhhh," I cooed, bringing him into a hug. I was no longer bound by social formalities anymore. I could do what I wanted without having to fear being judged; it was the most wonderful feeling.

"It's okay," I said, rubbing circles into Antonio's back. "It's done and over with. There's nothing we can do but move forward."

My face warmed due to our close proximity.

"You shouldn't be comforting me," Antonio said. "You just died. I had one job. I was supposed to take care of you, and I couldn't even do that!"

I rolled my eyes, beginning to become impatient. "We all make mistakes. You said you're from heaven, right? Well, fucking act like it. Forgiveness is what you angels all preach, isn't it? I'm throwing it right in front of your face, moron. You should probably take it."

I pulled away from the hug, giving the angel his space.

Antonio smiled faintly, rubbing at his eyes. "You were always such a funny kid to look after, making snide jokes and being sarcastic to mask how you truly felt. You've made me laugh a lot over the years. You're still living up to that image now, even in death," he faltered, sadly trailing off.

Silence.

"Antonio, can I ask you something?"

"Yes, anything."

"Why look after me? You weren't forced to, were you?"

Antonio shook his head. "No, I wasn't forced to do anything. I wanted to. God was too kind to me. I thought for sure I would end up in hell for what I did… I killed two good people, and then you in the aftermath by ruining your life. It killed me all over again to watch you live on the streets, barely surviving but always fighting. You're stronger than I could ever be in that regard. Despite your mood, you never give up. I used to be stubborn like that until I became your age. I guess I mellowed out…"

"Huh," I hummed. "Mellowing out is boring if you ask me. I like being spunky; it must be the Italian in me."

Antonio chuckled, sniffing and hiccupping as his sobs subsided.

"Can I ask you another thing?" I whispered.

Antonio nodded.

"Why stick around? Once you knew that I was better, you still stayed. Why is that?"

"I felt responsible for you. I…" Antonio tanned cheeks became a bright pink. "I grew to love you."

"Oh," I stammered. "Oh, fuck."

Real eloquent, Lovino. Christ.

"You shouldn't swear, Lovino," Antonio warned. "Especially with where we're going."

"You can't just say something like that and not expect me to freak out, you dumb angelic fuck! But… you are attractive, I'll give you that."

Now that I was dead, there was no point in beating around the bush.

"Fusososo! You're lucky we're in purgatory! If another angel heard you say that, you'd have chores for an entire week, maybe even a month depending on who heard you," Antonio doubled over, giggling uncontrollably.

The sight of it made me grin, but I had to repress it with a cough.

"Not happening," I snorted. "I'm doing no such thing just because some melodramatic holier than thou asshole decides they can boss me around! I'm my own boss now! I don't have to worry about school, or taxes, or grades, or hell, anything! God damn, this feels good!"

"Ay dios mio. I'm almost regretting claiming responsibility for you. You're going to make me look bad in front of my superiors."

"You deserve it."

"Ay, I do."

"You know, you're taking your death surprisingly well," the angel remarked.

I shrugged. "I've had brighter days. Heck, I've had way darker ones. But here, this is where I finally feel like I can relax and be true to my self. It feels like…home, strange as that might sound. I'm not scared all the time like I used to be."

"It's not strange at all. We all feel this when we pass on. It's completely normal; heaven and any place under its influence is supposed to provide you with comforting emotions." Antonio grabbed my hand, pulling me to my feet.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Heaven," Antonio replied. "There are people waiting for you, in your new home, that is."

My heart skipped a beat. "Y-you mean…?"

Antonio nodded, already knowing who I was referring to. "They're very proud of what you did. I can't say the same, because I was supposed to make sure you stayed alive… But you know, all is well if it ends well. I can mope about being a failure once I get you back to them…"

There was something about the angel that looked off, like he knew something I didn't.

Antonio covered a hand over my eyes. "Don't look, it's too bright for newcomers to withstand. It takes some time to get used to."

I followed Antonio's advice, waiting for him to tell me to open my eyes. There was a whoosh of wind in my ears.

I felt something soft beneath my bare feet.

We were standing before a tall golden gate surrounded by clouds. This was heaven. I had actually fucking made it.

"It's so…" I couldn't even finish the sentence.

"Beautiful?" Antonio proposed, grinning widely.

"Yes, that," I stuttered, brilliant as always.

I absently walked forward, not listening to Antonio as he gave me more instructions. I was too busy ogling at the even bluer sky before me.

"What?" Antonio whispered to himself behind me. "There's still a chance? What do I do? Okay, okay. Yes, I can do that. It's for the best, even if… even if he'll hate me for it. A-are you sure you guys want this for him?... All right."

"Hey, Lovino?" Antonio called out.

I turned around. "Yeah?"

"Come here, I want to show you something."

I walked over to Antonio, blushing deeply as he grabbed my right hand. He brought it up to his lips for a quick kiss before leading me towards the edge of the clouds.

I looked down into the Earth below, seeing the world's landmasses without any borders or divisions.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"Because you don't belong here. You can still live on, Lovino. God has granted you with a miracle. We must act quickly, before it's too late."

Reality came crashing down. I was no longer in a dream-like stance as I realized what the angel intended to do.

"A-Antonio! Wait! No! I don't want to leave! Don't send me back, please, I'm begging you! I need to see my family! Let me see my family! I don't…I don't want to be alone again!"

Antonio let go of my hand.

I froze as he bent down to peck my forehead; it didn't provide the same warmth as it had before. It burned to the touch, sending sharp daggers of hurt across my entire nervous system.

I couldn't believe what was happening.

"Live well, Lovino. Your heart will always lead you in the right place, trust your instincts. I'll always be there to watch over you."

I gasped as Antonio pushed me forward, falling through the air and down to the Earth below.

I screamed, furious at this betrayal as I continued to fall through one cloud mass after the next until Antonio was nothing more than a black speck looming above, out of sight…

But not out of mind.

…

One week later

…

I opened my eyes, finding myself in a hospital room. The whole right side of my face was covered with bandages, making it impossible to move.

Terrified, I tried to move my limbs, grateful when I realized I was able to. Nothing felt wrong other than the sharp pain in my head, where I had been shot.

Still in a daze from the bright lights surrounding me, I began to breathe in sharply, panicking when the rate on my heart monitor picked up speed.

"Lovino, look at me."

I stopped moving the lower half of my body, raking my eyes to the right-side of the bed. Antonio was sitting there in a chair, eyes downcast.

I wanted to speak, but couldn't because my mouth was wired shut.

Antonio voiced my concerns.

"You do not have to worry, querido, you will survive this injury. The bullet went clean through your cheek, not damaging any important arteries or organs. You will have some scarring, though, and I'm truly very sorry for that. You must know that I pushed you only because I saw the small chance of you having a future. Your family wanted you to live if possible. I was only respecting their wishes."

Tears streaked down my face. That fucking bastard. Didn't I get a say in this?

Antonio sighed, finally looking me in the eyes. "I can tell you wanted to stay with them… But, now there is nothing either you or I can do about it. All I can say is live your life to the fullest, Lovino. Please, for you and for your family. I'm afraid I must go now. There's a girl out there, waiting for you; praying for you; crying for you.

"You must help her when you can; she lives in a toxic environment, just like you did on the streets before. She's a good person who has had many bad things happen to her. You don't need me anymore, but I want you to become her guardian. Look after her when you heal and hold her close, as a friend or as a…lover be it may. Use the light in your heart to help guide her away from the darkness that fast approaches in her life. More than that, let love fill your own life again."

I whimpered, prompting Antonio to turn around and give me a sad look.

Please, don't leave! – my mind pleaded. I forgive you! Stay!

"I know you do, and can't thank you enough for how kind and selfless you are," Antonio chided. "It's also why I have to leave. I don't belong here on Earth anymore. I haven't for a long time now. I wish I could stay, I really do. I suppose this is all I can offer you, q-querido."

Antonio bent over, pushing away the bangs from my pallid face. He brushed his lips against my forehead, cupping my cheek with one soft hand as he pulled away, a great amount of reluctance resting on his facial expression.

"Goodbye, Lovi. God speed."

And then he was gone.

I stared at the ceiling, unable to stop the tears from pouring down my face, wetting my collarbone and the front of my nightgown.

My quiet sobs must have alerted Bella, because next thing I knew she was hovering over my bed, crying out in relief.

Her eyes had dark bags under them, but the sight of me waking up from my coma must have allowed some hope to shine through. She both smiled and sobbed as she gripped onto the railing of my bed, apologizing for something that wasn't her fault.

At least I had brightened her day.

That was a start.

-The end

#hetalia #aph #aph Spain #aph Romano #Spamano #fanfiction #romance #tf blood #tf death #Lovino Vargas #antonio fernandez carriedo #weekofhetalia #hetaliaextravaganza2k17 #one-shot #day 7 #this was a great event #you're all wonderful #I'm so grateful I was able to participate in it :D

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theboykingofhell · 7 years

Note

what drugs have you tried and what were they like? have you ever tried ketamine?

i have tried coke, mdma, shrooms, lsa/morning glory and adderall!! i haven’t tried ketamine and don’t rly plan to cuz it doesn’t seem like my type of drug but who knows, man…

oh let me preface by saying everything besides the lsa i took while either drunk or stoned (or both…almost always both)… i RLY like mixing drugs but if you dont know about the multiplier effect, different drugs getting taken at once will have a different(and usually stronger) reaction than taking it by itself, so my experiences with everything might be WAY different than the norm, who knows

coke i didnt particularly like and i MIIIIGHT try it one more time like if it just happens to be in the area i wouldnt turn it down probably but i thought it was EH. (i was also drunk, stoned, and had mdma in my system, so).. it def gave me more energy, it made my tongue and hands numb, there was a slight like jittery feeling behind my eyes, like my vision itself was buzzing a lil which made looking at things fun… honestly tho? it just made me feel manic. i’m manic all the time, bruh, dont need a drug to help me with that… 2/10 not in a rush to try again

mdma i LOOOOOVED…. it and shrooms are tied for my favorite drugs holy FUCK. again, i think its a drug that most people use to elevate mood because, again, it booted me towards feeling manic, but i feel like it was a little calmer with mdma than with coke (aka no jitters, no bursts of energy rly, it felt more subtle). everything got nice and loose which was nice. when you’re moving it’s GREAT, it just fades into the background and just makes everything feel more intense and makes you feel more present in it. every time i was still, tho, i NOTICED it, because it would all whoosh into my head (i get like that when i’m stoned too so that could’ve been cuz of the pot). MDMA MAKES SEX S O GOOD I CAME FAR TOO MUCH AND IT ALMOST KILLED ME LMFAO. it just makes skin feel.. REALLY GOOD…. NICE GOOD FEELS… like i’m constantly just almost JUST able to float out of my skin and HAVING skin is the only thing keeping me from levitating up into the sky, it’s wonderful. usually you get a crash after taking it where you get depressed apparently but i didn’t ever get like that the times i did it. also, mdma would make me hallucinate a little… don’t know why! they were mostly all visual and almost always the same one, i would start seeing little kalaidescopes everywhere and the colors were always green to purple to red and all these made-up colors in between…. and this would happen if i tried to focus on one thing for more than 5 seconds… for a while afterwards those little hallucinations would come back, at first with the same like NICE GOOD FEELS and later it’d just be the hallucinations themselves… usually triggered by coming cuz both times i tried mdma i ended up having sex on it SO YEAH… DEF RECOMMEND, DRINK LOTS OF WATER

shrooms.. are… i have a tag dedicated to the experience lmfao. i’ve had it 3 times, and it was always after eating an edible at some point beforehand. i have a friend who had a rly bad trip once and another who, after doing acid (and having a fine trip), ended up getting triggered into a psychotic break, so i was worried about freaking out and i found that just getting a little stoned beforehand keeps me relaxed the whole time but also made the high stronger… it’s just amazing. incredibly spiritual, a LOT more physical than i thought it would be. it’s… all-encompassing. my friend and i, after we did it together, explained it like…you TRY and explain it but it’s something you only rly have words for it while you’re on it, and you just lose the ability to fully, accurately comprehend it when you return. like, at times i felt like i WAS god, at time i felt like i was being hurtled through universes, at times i felt the LITERAL FABRIC OF REALITIES like i could SEE THEM and i could dip my fingers through them and i could see the strings of time and fucking touch them and it’s so powerful and visceral and REAL… it’s honestly insane. i described it AS going insane, like at points i just… would see the state in my mind labeled ‘sanity’ and i phased through it and went beyond. you become so… wise???? you suddenly have access to languages and colors and senses that never and always existed??? but i also can’t stress just how STUPID you get. conversations would go from describing the secrets of life and death and the universe to thinking you turned into a chipmunk.. my friend nearly fucked his guitar and, tbh, i almost did to,,,. sometimes i couldn’t stop moving and other times i would just be laying on the floor completely stil before SUDDENLY JOLTING UP AND SCREAMING cuz my soul had floated out of my body, danced through a star and suddenly CRASHED back into my flesh vessel. the longest trip was 4 hours… all my hallucinations that i had were visual or tactile, the visual ones were very innocent and subtle… like, one trip, everything would get fuzzy in a way where it looks like someone had painted the world with smears of watercolors.. but my friend, who took WAY stronger shrooms (THE strongest, while i took the weakest) would literally SEE ducks and cubes and shit morphing in front of him… EVERYTHING is weird, like all your senses switch places with each other and suddenly you can touch with your eyes and taste sounds and music got RLY scary and i wish i got to see what sex on shrooms is like but.. alas…

LSA is something a lot of ppl have never heard of, so let me explain it!! morning glory is a type of flower… the seeds contain something called LSA which is PRETTY MUCH a natural form of acid… so, if you eat enough of the seeds it will make you trip!!! it was the first drug i ever took (even before drinking and smoking)… it lasted a long LONG time, like 16 hours straight. i would see rainbows like emenating from every tree and also i rolled pantless on my carpet for like half of those hours cuz the sense of touch was so NIIICE it just made everything feel so nice and warm, i would get a lot of ripples of sensation and i was HYPERaware of my insides which felt gross and made eating impossible but it was a great experience, especially if it’s your first time trying drugs +o+ warning it does make a lot of people nauseous tho, i was fine but if anyone tries it, make sure to wash it RLY well because these are quite literally flower seeds so they are covered in pesticides..

adderall i’m putting here cuz it’s something i use recreationally, i’ve never had it prescribed but i love it SO much. mostly i just use it to keep me grounded… sometimes pot makes me rly paranoid and anxious (and i don’t even have an anxiety disorder so i have absolutely NO basis or idea how to cope with it so i freak out twice as much) and i’m just very uncomfortable with being… ‘chill’? it makes me feel nonfunctional haha so i usually take adderall with it to be able to function again. when i take a shitload it can make me very jittery tho, like… cranked up with caffiene jitters… the FIRST TIME i tried adderall was the best time because, god, the FOCUS of adderall combined with the impulsiveness of being drunk holy FUCK. SO fun. it’s just a nice thing to keep you composed when you’re doing a lot of party drugs, especially once you get used to it and know how to monitor it well. it’ll keep you tethered to a certain level while also making that level stronger… LOTS of bad effects with it though so this rly is one to be careful of but it’s so useful goddamn

AND YEAH THAT’S IT SO FAR…. like literally so many of my friends are into trying shit (actors, man..) so who knows what i’ll have to add to this list by next year jnlggs

#Anonymous #ask tag #SENDS YOU OFF WITH KISSES.... i wrote this instead of paying attention in physics lmfao #drunkbloggin #drugs tw

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burntflorets · 7 years

Text

21 april 2017

3:17am you called me. you said wanted to see me. then you said u had ot, you didn’t even end much later. then you didn’t want to meet me.

i’m confused.

initially you got so angry i tried to communicate with you. saying i wasn’t honoring you and your time out, being disrespectful and all. hell you got fucking angry with me.

i hate it when you get angry with me. i get terrified when you get angry. i get scared when you raise your voice at me. especially when you’re way much bigger than i am. God knows what you can do to me if you’re angry. not saying that you abused me but yknow. fuck, it was bad. i was fucking shitty then, and all you did was get angry with me when i tried to reach out to you. you got angry when i told you i still loved you.

then you told me that you were a new you. you wanted to do shit, you couldn’t be with me, or anyone.

you know how hurtful that is to hear that?

i fucked myself up for half a month trying to figure out what i did wrong, trying to grasp at anything, trying to keep myself going, trying to get through you, trying to force myself to cope and learn how to stop myself from slowly learning to live w/o you. i lived everyday in a blur, i can’t even remember what i did the previous day anymore. i don’t even know what i ate or did or if i even went to work.

then you dropped the fucking truth bomb on me at last, telling me you were a new you, the fuckboy you. the selfish you. that you that can’t be with anyone.

how am i supposed to feel. i don’t even know you anymore. the person i thought i knew inside out, i realized i didn’t even know a single bit about.

honestly when you told me about the new you, part of me died and left. i’m not going to lie. before you told me that, i was still sure about you, about us. and i still stuck to my decision. then you told me. i got numb. i still am. i’m surprised that that was the one that actually stopped me from crying.

you changed. you’re so different now. i don’t know if i know you anymore. i’m confused.

now you’re changing your tune, you say you miss me. ok idk if you miss me but you suddenly said you love me.

you change your mind fucking fast.

you’re fucking bipolar. it’s confusing me. you became so fickle. i’m fucking confused.

are you ok? were you drinking that’s why? yknow when i woke up and saw your text i got really confused.

the first thing that got into my mind was “are you drunk???” and the next thing i wanted to say to you was “yeah right but you didn’t love me enough that’s why you were so unsure and caught between staying and committing to me or your new life motto”

i wanted to be sarcastic. fuck i was angry. i was angry with you, i was angry with myself. i was angry with the world.

fuck i wanted to be with you. i didn’t want anything else. i didn’t want you to leave. i loved you with everything i had. i loved you with every inch of my being. i loved you so much that it compensated the 0 love i had for myself.

and then you told me why you were so unsure about us.

zach HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL.

it’s finally sinking in. i’ve been numb too long. it hurts now. and i’m angry.

i was disappointed earlier when i heard it. now fucking angry and hurt.

you said you feel played. what is this now. you’re playing me. AND MY FUCKING FEELINGS.

stop it. you fucking pushed me away when i needed you the most. now when you tell me all those hurtful stuff, you change your mind then tell me you love me and it was great hearing my voice.

fuck you zach what are you doing to me??

my emotions are back. i’m sad. i’m hurting. i’m angry. I don’t know what to feel anymore.

don’t come running back bc you pity me. don’t come back if you’re undecided.

you know you can’t have both. it’s either me or your new life. i feel you’re holding on to me bc you want both, you’re greedy and selfish. you say you want me and at the same time you’re trying to fit your new life into this too.

no. don’t. you’re going to hurt me even more.

like i said previously, don’t stay bc u pity me.  stay only bc u love me and see a future with me. stay only if you’re willing to commit to me. stay only if you are going to be loyal to me. stay only if you are going to be transparent with me. stay only if you wont do shit behind my back. stay only if you appreciate and treasure me. stay only if you’re mentally and physically here with me. if not, leave. as much as i hate to say it, leave. leave and never look back

i want to trust you, i wanted to desperately trust you that you were using this time out to think about us. for us to be better in future.

then i found you on tinder, then i see you went back to porn. then you told me the truth bomb.

you were doing shit behind my back.

if you were me, how fucked up do you think that would be.

i honestly don’t know if i can ever see you in the same way as before anymore.

do you know how crushed i was??

i was shit at the start, i was barely coping, i was just scraping through. then all these happened.

maybe i’m still numb. i don’t know what to feel now. i don’t feel anything towards you. and it scares me. idk what i feel for you anymore.

notice how i stopped putting “things i want to say to you if we were still talking?” after that day? after you told me the new you?

all these aren’t what i want to say to you anymore. all these is just me and my thoughts now. i’m not telling this to you anymore. it’s just all my raw unfiltered thoughts now. i just had to write them down somewhere. i need to get this off my chest.

i’ve been trying to clear my headspace and think things through. no one can help me now. i was so confident about us, about my answer to you then. i still was, till you told me the new you.

i felt like i don’t know you anymore. it felt like i was talking to a stranger. someone that i would hate to be friends with. someone i would hate.

everything just felt so wrong. i wanted to be in denial. i wanted it to be a bad dream. i wanted to wake up from the bad dream.

i’ve been drinking from the bottle, i’ve been smoking a lot to feel alive. all these has made me feel dead inside. and after that day, i felt even more dead inside than ever.

i had to check if i was still alive by trying to burn myself with the fire. i had to check if i was still alive by punching holes in the wall again.

it felt like the start of the time out again.

don’t push me away and get angry with me when i try to reach out to you, only to turn around and say you love me and all when i’m trying to come to terms with the new you.

it’s like you have alr been fucking around doing the shit that you want, then now coming back and telling me you love me when you had enough fun. it’s like hanging me on a rack, then when you’re cold, you use me again to keep you warm.

don’t come back if you still do shit behind my back.

stop fucking with me and my feelings zach. they are feelings ffs. i can’t just turn them off and on as and when i like it.

you put me through hell zach. i was going to kill myself. you don’t know how much it took for me to not kill myself. i tried killing myself everyday. i did try to kill myself yesterday too.

i ran in front of cars otw to work, i stood under the sun for 7 hours refusing to drink any water or eat anything ever since u told me the new you. i was googling death by heatstroke i only fainted for a while. it wasn’t long enough for anyone to notice. it wasn’t long enough for me to be sent home. it wasn’t long enough for me to be admitted to the hospital.

i thought that if i died, it’ll be a win win situation for us. i would be happy, you wouldn’t have to regret me and you could go live your new life.

when i woke up, i saw you texted me. to clarify. i was conflicted and angry. i didn’t know how to feel anymore. i felt played. i felt like the biggest fucking idiot in the whole world.

i’m not trying to say that i only suffered. maybe you did too, maybe you didn’t. i don’t know. i’m not you. but i know myself. and what i’ve been through.

God knows what you have done, the fun you have had, the shit that you did, the girls you flirted and made out with and did, the parties you have gone and once u had your fun, now you’re telling me you love me and you miss me.

i desperately want to trust you, but i don’t know if i can.

you’ve turned bad. you changed. i don’t know anything anymore. i still want to fight for you, but i don’t know if it’s the right thing to do anymore.

it’s 5am. i’m running out of alcohol and cigarettes. it’s hard to think. i’ve got so much to say but my mind’s a mess. i can’t put them out into words properly.

i’m not drunk i’m not high. my mind’s just in a mess. i don’t know anything anymore.

12:04pm i’m mentally and physically drained. idk what to think anymore. my head needs to stop pounding and my stomach needs to stop rejecting stuff. there’s nothing for me to puke why am i still puking?? i’m puking bile blood wtv it’s horrible. i want to go home. i want to die

1:20pm these days have been very draining. this whole month is wearing me out. all i want rn is to be back in your arms like before. but i know that’s not possible anymore. i’m just tired. i want all these to end. i don’t even know what i want anymore. fuck this

you said your fantasy was just in the moment. you didn’t know what came over you. but it’s clear as day.

you said you always wanted to do it since young. your fantasy was well thought out, you knew exactly what you wanted, previously when you decided things on impulse you couldn’t give a convincing explanation. this, this explanation of your fantasy, you looked like you really spent half your life thinking of it, and that you were going to do it soon. it was that convincing.

as much as i want to believe you’re the same person as before, but your fantasy shit, it kills me to know that deep down this is what you really want and that you have been hiding that part of you from me. and i can understand why you hid it.

the fact that it was so detailed like you knew everything and you could say things like “i will and i can even if it’s for life” when i told you you can’t possibly be living that way for your whole life. you were so adamant and so sure of yourself.

and i’m scared bc what if we get back together and i disregard what you said about your fantasy, but then at the back of your mind this is what you’re thinking all the time. what if you get unsure of us again? then we have to go through this all over again.

i can see i’m not important enough for you. i’m not a priority in your life that’s why you are so torn between me or that fantasy life. if i was your everything you wouldn’t even go through this thought process. it wouldn’t even have crossed your mind.

honestly when i asked you that if you have this mindset now what makes me think you wouldn’t have these thoughts again in future what makes you so sure you wouldn’t have these thoughts again? you just went quiet.

when i told you that if we were to get back together, we need to start from scratch again. we can’t just pick up from where we left off. it’s not going to work out. we’ll just be the same all over again. you just ignored that portion and replied to the other qn i had.

when i said that we always keep running into the same problems that we both did come to a conclusion once. and i said that demoralizing that we ‘claimed’ to have solved a problem before, in fact, we actually didn’t at all. you just kept quiet again.

you can’t promise me anything. to think that you say you aren’t breaking up with me now, but you can’t promise that you’ll change and you know that deep down the fantasy thing wasn’t a one time thing that’s why you couldn’t give an answer.

come clean. stop lying to yourself. it’s plain as day. it’s not a one time thing. you’ve always wanted this your whole life. i can see it too. it’s even clearer now. it actually explains your actions in the past.

i know my sentences aren’t coherent, my head fucking hurts. i’m mentally and physically exhausted. this whole month has been shit. i can’t wait for all these to end. but u need to come clean.

3:42pm my headache and nausea and dizziness are even more strong than usual today. and i left my painkillers at home. i can’t even stand. i can’t even sit straight without swaying. i feel like i'm losing consciousness. i feel like i'm losing control of my body. fuck this. today is shit. i just want to go home. i wished all these never happened. i wished we were still happy. then i could go to you. i just want to be in your arms like before when i had a migraine attack. i just want to hear u say everything will be alright.

i wish too much don’t i.

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