☀┆αbrαsıve

GUIDELINES. DOSSIER. VERSES.

[abrasife]

mobile links.

❪ rules ❫ ┄ ❪ dossier ❫ ┄ ❪ mobile dossier ❫ ┄ ❪ verses ❫ ┄ ❪ meme tag ❫

active blogs.

❪ aeipathcy ; oc multi ❫ ┄  ❪ aeviterncl ; oc multi ❫

writer.

severa . she / her . 18+

** I am using the BETA EDITOR, so please use it when writing with me

[abrasife]

On new design note—

I like the visual change of Keith's hair becoming more layered and soft in comparison to his teen years because his efforts to treat himself better and eat properly are actually reflecting in his physical health. His hair used to be pretty thin and brittle, but now, it's smooth and nice.

[sevxra-arts]

no idea if I'll ever go back and shade the rest of it, but here's a redesign of Keith's older self. Not sure if I'll 100% stick with this hairstyle, but this is the one I like the best so far.

[abrasife]

the comparison of Keith's designs. (<- initial concept featuring his teen years || design meant to convey him in his 20s ->)

I didn't want the change to be so drastic with his hairstyle, but I also didn't want it to be too similar. I think this is a good balance of similar but different? Not too sure if I'll stick with this current iteration of his older self's hairstyle though.

[shadyinfo]

@abrasife take this awkward starter!

It felt like the end of the world asking Keith if he wanted to go outside with her for a bit, just to sit in the sun. She had braced for a quiet rejection of sorts, readied to retreat and hurdle herself into the furthest gym from this neighborhood. Ophelia had thought about every other possible outcome that did not involve him ever saying yes, and so when he agrees to walk with her, the world had come to a complete still. Suddenly, she is eight years old again wondering what to do on a day where her mother was not out drinking or kissing another man.

The children's playground was convenient. Ophelia had never been the calculating type, but it seemed that head injuries had truly changed her in ways more than one. It was empty at his hour, and it gave her the excuse to do physical conditioning with the play structure if Keith brought something to occupy himself with. And yet, even as the option presented itself in this silence, Ophelia merely stared at him while her heart pounded in her ears. It makes her wonder when her feelings transformed from something innocent to something much more complicated. A painful sort of longing that she did not want to name, could not afford to think on when her objective then was to heal him. "You are thinking again," Ophelia's voice rumbled through the sound of leaves rustling from the trees around them. "You got that look on your face when you're lost in thought." That face hasn't changed at all, but the comment was trapped behind her throat. Her fingers flexed as the muscles on her forearms tensed from habit, fist clenched behind her back where Keith would not see.

"Are you thinking about what to cook again?" That much more dimwitted part of her blurted out, and the embarrassment had been contained to her ears. Ophelia could have asked literally anything else then, but this attempt for normalcy had already been made.

[abrasife]

The walk to the park was quiet. Keith hardly had anything to say at the moment—or rather, he was at a loss as to what to say. His eyes were fixed towards the ground, but he'd glance at his girlfriend's hand here and there as they made their way along their usual route. While Ophelia had been adhering to the schedule she had given him months back, his nerves still wouldn't relax and let him go back to being happy without worry with Ophelia. It was almost like he was stuck with this perpetual fear of her deciding to leave him at the drop of a hat. He didn't want to worry about that. He wanted to trust her. He knew he could trust her, yet his heart wouldn't let go of the pain.

Keith was getting annoyed with himself. He couldn't just wait for time to heal this wound that refused to scar over. He had to start taking active steps to make the joyful things outweigh the hurtful ones—he couldn't repeat the same time-wasting 'coping' he had done back when his mother passed. Even though Ophelia had left, she had come back—and she was still coming back to see him. She was keeping her promises. She was here next to him, talking to him, choosing to be with him. She was here to make amends and move forward. He had to do the same; he had to move forward too.

He jolted at her comment.

Oh, his downcast gaze had given him away, or indicated he was far too lost in his own thoughts to have realized they had already made it to the park. It was the same park as always, the one where he would sit and paint, the one where Shane and Rachael would sometimes chat on the swings, the one where kids came to play, and dog owners would come by to walk their dogs. But at this niche hour, nobody was here except the two of them.

He lifted his chin to finally look up, to look at his girlfriend. Her ears were tinted red, and it was clear she hadn't meant to let her question slip out. Her embarrassed side was simply too adorable to not find a bit of joy in. It was always a surprise how he felt so at ease with her breaking the tension with a random question like she typically did. He was never good at breaking his own tension, but Ophelia always had the magic spell to chase it away, no matter how much she thought her various methods might be stupid.

Unable to suppress a smile seeing her expression, Keith reached out to brush his fingers against hers, a silent ask to consider intertwining their fingers together, ❝ I was thinking... of how to savor this moment, to make it feel more real. ❞

But he supposed he could also humor Ophelia's question too to help her feel not so flustered over asking. And maybe humoring that would make him feel less self-conscious about maybe wanting to hold her hands right now.

His fingers lingering against hers, he met Ophelia's eyes with a soft gaze, ❝ I could use some ideas for dinner too. What are you craving tonight? I'll see if we can make it. ❞

[mcflymemes]

DRAMATIC & PROTECTIVE RELATIONSHIP PROMPTS *  for the ones who want to keep you safe from harm

get behind me.

go inside and lock the door and don't come out until i say so.

are you all right? where are you hurt?

over my dead body.

i promised them i'd keep you safe.

i sleep better when you're next to me.

are you serious? i'm not letting you risk your life.

don't go. it's safer here.

i should have been here. this is my fault.

here. take this gun. don't pull the trigger unless it's absolutely necessary.

they told me to watch you.

i won't let anyone lay a hand on you.

stay close to me.

i'm not worth saving. please.

can you stay? just for a little while? it would help.

it's too dangerous out there.

i thought i'd lost you.

can you hear me? hello? where are you?

they're all afraid of me.

they told me you'd be trouble. clearly that was an understatement.

one of us has to make it out of here.

is that a bruise?

get back. get back right now.

did they touch you?

i already lost you once. i'm not going to lose you again.

a few more steps. we're nearly there. i've got you.

where does it hurt? let me see.

oh my god, you're covered in blood.

i love you, but you have to go.

climb on my back. i'll carry you.

i wish you'd stay.

i slept here all night. i couldn't leave you.

stay with me. i can keep you safe.

no. i've made my decision. you're staying here.

holy shit. are you okay? what the hell happened?

we have to get inside right now.

quick! hide! in here!

if they know you're with me, they'll leave you alone.

if they attack again, we'll be ready.

this never should have happened.

i want you to run, okay? run and don't look back.

you're all right. you're safe. it's over.

i'll feel better once you're out of this.

i don't have nightmares when you're here.

where have you been? i've been calling you all night.

your phone went straight to voicemail. what's going on?

i don't want anything to happen to you.

i can't stand the thought of losing you.

i won't let them touch you.

when we met, i promised myself i'd keep you safe.

where'd they go? i'll give them a piece of my mind.

here. squeeze my hand if it hurts.

i'll lay beside you.

no. it's non-negotiable. you're staying here.

i don't want you to die, okay?

listen to me! i know what i'm doing!

i can't lose you again!

do you hear me? i love you! i've always loved you.

i've got you. i'm right here.

can i stay? i'll take the couch.

tell them you're with me.

you can make it. i believe in you.

are you kidding me? who decided this?

here, i'll pick you up.

get back in the car. i'll handle this.

if anyone can do it, it's you.

let me carry you to safety.

i don't do well when you're away.

[mcflymemes]

"I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!" PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue for both sides of the argument, adjust as necessary.

for the "i don't need your help" one

you can get lost.

i thought i told you i had this under control.

you never listen to me.

i was taking care of it.

leave me alone.

are you happy now?

you just stepped in and ruined it for me.

that was completely unnecessary and you know it.

i had it under control.

you didn't need to show up.

can't you let me handle my own shit?

i would have appreciated it if you asked first.

i had it handled!

you didn't need to do all that!

what part of "i don't need help" do you not understand?

they were about to give it to me before you showed up!

i had something going and you ruined it!

what, you mean you don't trust me to handle it myself?

you trained me better than this.

you can't just show up every time and save me.

what's the point in putting me out here if you're not going to let me do it on my own?

i thought you trusted me to take care of this by myself.

you taught me this.

i'm never going to forgive you for this.

that was uncalled for.

what happens when you're not here one day and i have to take care of things on my own?

how am i ever going to learn if you keep stepping in?

i'm not you.

for the "i'm just trying to help you" one

i heard you struggling.

i was just trying to help you.

and this is the thanks i get for trying to help?

things were getting out of hand. i had to step in.

you never would have done that by yourself.

it's okay to ask for help.

it's not that i don't trust you. i don't trust [them].

a minute longer and you'd be dead in there.

i had to make sure you were okay.

of course i trust you. this was never about trust.

i'm not going to risk your life like that!

i should have been there sooner.

if i'd only reached you faster.

a simple "thank you" would suffice.

you could thank me for saving your ass back there.

sure didn't seem like you had it under control.

things were getting out of hand, and i stepped in.

i'm in charge here, not you.

i'm not going to put your life at risk like that again.

we're done here.

i'm not arguing with you.

i saved your life, and this is how you repay me?

i just wanted to make sure you were okay.

maybe i crossed a line back there, sure, but i did it for you.

it's because i care about you.

of course you're capable. that was never up for debate.

you're not ready.

next time, let me handle it.

clearly you need more time before i let you do that alone.

we'll try again tomorrow.

[strongwilledsoul]

He's made an improvised bow. A paperclip bent just so, a rubber band wound tight. He tweaked the tension a bit more, and gave the band a little test twang.

In his hand, his projectile. A literal nail.

"I bet you this'll draw blood."

[abrasife]

Keith could only fix his gaze on the makeshift craft that resembled a bow and arrow at the sound of that dialogue—or rather a slingshot that might as well replicate that kind of weaponry depending on how someone looked at it. If he angled his point of view a certain way, the bow could absolutely resemble a slingshot more. Still, that was beside the point. The more concerning thing was that nail. Since when were nails that sharp?

Actually, now that he processed the direction that nail was pointed...

Subtly stepping out of line of direct fire of that contraption, Keith glanced back towards Max, half turning his body towards him.

❝ ... Don't tell me you were gonna fire that at me. ❞

[abrasife]

KEITH AND REANNE, MY BELOVEDS! I LOVE THEMMMMMMMMM!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

art by ariasama

[abrasife]

Keith may have days where he doesn't feel like trying so hard to put his earrings on. Putting them on takes more effort than he likes to admit, so I can see him forgoing it from time to time if he is running behind. Also, if he can't put them in, he really wouldn't want to ask for help because needing help to put on earrings is lame.

[abrasife]

OOC. I miss the old shenanigans I used to have here.

[abrasife]

This art of Keith is so perfect! It captures his charm and character vibe perfectly!

art by misokatsuhaumai

[abrasife]

It would have been odd to spend a holiday with the Jardine household this year, given the tension broiling from each corner of the vicinity. Visiting a day earlier was the motive, but it seemed that family had come early anyways. A cynical and colder part of Ophelia would have preferred to push through an extroverted exterior to interact with them, but that would have only resulted in more complications. Not to mention the weight of shame that had long since latched onto her like a sadistic abscess. That confidence was lost on her.

Keith was busy in the kitchen or perhaps getting himself ready with his family, leaving Ophelia in the living room with little Alice. At least, until everyone settled back, then she would take her leave. She had grown so much bigger now, and reasonably quieter with her now compared to before. It had been some time since they had last seen each other before, and the older girl wouldn’t be so surprised if the child had picked up on the shift of relationships.

She reminds herself to take a breath as her calloused hand steadily places a block on top of another. They had been quietly playing on the floor, shortly after Ophelia asked to join the girl. Her own presence felt so out of place, but the least she could do was watch the young girl while everyone seemed to be occupied.

“I wasn’t being a good friend for a long time,” Ophelia admits quietly once the younger had questioned why her uncle had been so solemn. She couldn’t bring herself to lie to that girl. Her eyes are cast down on the colorful blocks arranged into a haphazard foundation of a building.

“There were plenty of things that I did that I ain’t proud of. Most of all, I wasn’t around when Keith needed me.” Surely, a child would understand the hurt that came from an absent friend. It wasn’t uncommon for such things to happen. But Ophelia wouldn’t say too much, cautious and too-aware on a how a child could interpret the words.

The last thing she wanted was for that kid to be entangled into this too.

Ophelia slides a block into an empty space, holding her breath as it wobbles so slightly. Thankfully, it hadn’t fallen into Alice’s little buildings (again). Her eyes flutter shut in thought, words scrambled and pieced together slowly. “It’s always good to say sorry, but it’s even better when you try to make up for it. You have to help fix the building you knocked down,” She is uncertain if she is saying it as a life lesson, or merely reminding herself that being around would be better than calling quits entirely.

A wry smile surfaces on Ophelia’s face when she finds the will to meet Alice in the eyes. It is an echo of what Ophelia used to be; gentle. “—but you already knew all that, didn’t you? You’re a sweet kid, after all.” The foundation stabilizes, a humble tower stands.

UNPROMPTED ┊always accepting.

The holiday season was honestly one of the worst times of the year for Keith. Well, at least Christmas season was. It was always cold, there were tons of people trying to shop, prices were outrageous, the shelves were bare when trying to pick up anything remotely necessary for a Christmas meal—it was to the point that this year, the Jardine family had decided to hold a family gathering on the most convenient day within the holiday season. This somehow meant that they were having a big Christmas meal a good three days after the big day itself—a Sunday evening where everyone could meet up without worrying about other Christmas obligations.

And as per a tradition for these events, the redhead had invited Ophelia over. For once, he had actually zero hope that she would show up, but his girlfriend had proven him wrong and punctually showed up at Melissa's house like he had informed her of. Keith still felt awkward around her, almost like the days before he really realized he liked her as more than just a friend. Words still hesitated to form, but thankfully, she got the hint and spent most of her time with Alice while he helped Melissa get the table ready. His thoughts churned through his brain as he laid out the place mats, the plates themselves, the bowls, the cutlery, and began laying out the main course dishes in the middle of the table.

It was funny how he still made a mango cheesecake this year because Ophelia liked the last time he made it (she had been missing the past few times he made it—and yet it had become a family favorite anyway). It was funny how he still had a gift set aside (alongside the ones from the previous years she missed) for her. It was funny how the one year he hadn't expected anything would end up being the year he made sure to bring out everything in case she, in fact, followed through with the schedule she had given him. Even if a portion of him doubted that scrap of paper, Ophelia had been truly following the schedule she had laid out. Maybe with a little more time, the hurt would become so minuscule that he could finally be normal with her. This time... they could fix things.

After Melissa dismissed him to gather everyone at the table, he went around the other rooms calling for Rachael and Shane first, and then Ryan. After that, he went to the living room to call for Alice and Ophelia.

He was about to call both the girls over to sit at the table when he found himself about to interrupt a conversation they were having. Quickly, he stopped his voice before he could ruin it and instead began to eavesdrop off to the side. Obviously, it was rude to do that, but he couldn't bring himself to interrupt what seemed to be a serious talk. Keeping himself quiet as he leaned against the wall of the living room area to find the moment to alert them of his presence, he simply listened.

It’s always good to say sorry, but it’s even better when you try to make up for it. You have to help fix the building you knocked down.

His eyes drifted to the scene of colorful building blocks on the ground spread out around the girls, his attention on the conversation drifting away. In between them was a foundation of a tower being built, and Ophelia was helping Alice put some more blocks on top of each other. He used to build a lot of towers with Alice. Their towers never managed to make it that high, but it seemed Ophelia had a better knack for it, as the tower reached heights he had never managed to get to. It was also pretty sturdy from the looks of it too. The towers he built typically had a shaky foundation.

Would it be weird to see this sturdy tower as some sort of sign that things would take a turn for the better? That even though their relationship had almost hit rock bottom, there was still the foundation they could build upon again?

Clearing his throat when he realized they were done talking, Keith finally made his presence known. He looked at Ophelia for a moment before shifting his gaze to Alice, ❝ D-Dinner's ready, ❞ he awkwardly announced, just barely coming back to the present moment and away from his thoughts. With that, Alice pulled herself off the floor and practically ran towards the table, leaving just him and Ophelia in the living room. Maybe she knew he wanted to have a moment alone with Ophelia right now—regardless, he was thankful for it.

As Ophelia stood up herself, Keith stepped over to stop her for a short chat. While he didn't really know what he wanted to say, he could at least say one thing, ❝ Ophelia, ❞ he started to say, placing a hand on the back of his neck just to do something to alleviate how much he was struggling to find the words, ❝ thank you... for coming. And thank you for being more present these days. ❞ It meant a lot. It made him feel like he could trust that she would choose to be around him a little more. He didn't have to keep holding his breath and thinking she'd disappear in the blink of an eye because her schedule told him when he would next see her. When he made that connection, Keith felt himself immediately relax, his shoulders loosening up and his palms reducing in their clamminess.

❝ I actually have some gifts for you, ❞ he said, his voice coming out smoother than before, ❝ they're from the previous years we missed, but I can give you the one meant for this year now. ❞

Lowering his arm to reach into his pocket, he pulled out a small gift box wrapped in festive wrapping paper. Inside was a set of six differently sized, handmade hair clips each adorned with its own theme and colors. Each theme consisted of two hair pins: one large size meant to hold a larger amount of hair and then a smaller version of it to clip bangs or other small sections of hair back. One of the themes was centered on familiar looking white and red cat faces, the second on the image of small beach seashells and ocean waves, and the last was made to evoke the feel of a forest with green leaves and branch-like elements. The work was delicate and clearly took time to make.

While Ophelia did have her hair short right now, he still had taken the time to some that would suit longer hair in the event she wanted to grow out her hair again. Not to mention, he really wanted to gift her an upgrade to those really old hair scrunches and ribbons he made her years ago.

❝ I hope you find a use for these. ❞

[abrasife]

The pounding in her ears was so loud, yet the room is still so silent. It was the kind of anticipation she would expect when sizing down a fighter that was triple her size, whenever she would enter fights that she knew she would lose. Rather, the biggest challenge of her life was looking Keith in the eye when she had been absent for so long without so much of an explanation save for sparse texts and rare appearances when her face was clean from bruising, or when her mind was clearer than baseline. Hell, she could not even look Rachel in the eye earlier that day either.

For all the shame and self-loathing sitting at the back of her throat, her hands tremble as they present a neatly creased piece of paper. "Here," she swallowed, attempting to calm her pounding heart with a shallow breath. A sheet with printed blocks, presumably a calendar of the upcoming month. Haphazard yet legible scrawls are confined in the appropriate spaces; multiple doctor appointments every Friday, scheduled academy trainings on most weekdays, an hour at the gym multiple times a week, and possibly the most jarring one of all, a handful of time blocks with Keith's name on them on the afternoons, evenings, some mornings when she wouldn't have time later that day. A structure, comparable to her sparse appearances that came and went without warning. That schedule was insurance.

Stomaching the dread in her stomach, Ophelia finally turns away, attempting to fix her gaze upon a spot on the wall to lower that incessant heart rate. "A schedule won't fix anything if I don't follow it. I left you alone, twice." The last word tastes to bitter, so did the acknowledgement that Keith may never bring himself to say. At least, she had to look him in the eye as she apologizes. It was the least he deserved from her now. "I'm sorry, Keith. For everything, but especially for ghosting without even a word. For hurting you." Her voice goes quieter, afraid that someone else would hear that vulnerability in her tone, or notice just how much more difficult it was for her to find the proper words.

That urge to run grows stronger by each passing second. That window was the perfect escape, so was the door. However, if she left now, that would be the end of it. No more visits, no more lingering, no more haunting that poor boy. And so she clenches her fist, holding herself together with such composure that it hides the fear that this fragile line between her and him will collapse. Every word is swirling in her head, coming to a bottleneck before her tongue. I'm sorry for leaving you again. I care about you so much. I thought about you when I was not fighting. I don't want to miss you. I don't want you clinging to the shell I left behind. I'll visit more. I won't leave. I'll be better. All remains tightly lodged behind teeth, and all she could make out is a hoarse whisper. "I want to stay— I will stay. I will stay." Ophelia wondered in the back of her head if she was saying those words to him, or herself at the same time. For both of them, she had to stay. She wouldn't forgive herself if she couldn't hold it.

UNPROMPTED ┊always accepting.

Each time Keith saw Ophelia these days, it felt like a figment of his imagination. Her appearances were always so abrupt, out of the blue, something he struggled to process until she had up and left again. He couldn't bring himself to trust their encounters had really happened. He kept wondering if he had been hallucinating them, that he was probably somehow desperate for her presence so much so that he was absolutely capable of imagining her so vividly. While he knew that they had happened due to his sister's commentary, his heart refused to accept it as true reality. After all, where was the reason to do that if she would be gone again for months? Acknowledging her visits more than a vague thing would only make his daily functioning haze worse.

Even now, as he silently let her inside to escape the cold upon her abrupt visit, Keith struggled to find words to even tell her. What could he say? He already had told her his feelings, asked her to not leave, and yet... she left anyway. He could only stand there at the doorway, his body blocking Ophelia from entering further into his home as he kept his discolored hand on the door knob. Was he wrong to give his heart to her? Rachael and Reanne were making him think that lately—they were kind enough to be angry on his behalf about this pattern of being 'ghosted' (as they put it)—but to give up on her? That felt like too much.

How did he used to talk to her? He couldn't remember. He used to see her and feel everything turn warm and bright, like everything was right in the world. Maybe that was why he used to be able to smile so much back then when she was there. Now though, he struggled to hold himself back from desperately clinging to her like a child who didn't want his most important person to leave him. No, he struggled to actually want to be close as much as he wanted to hold her.

He was stuck on how to approach Ophelia at all. He didn't know what to do. The short distance between them felt suffocating. He was practically hovered over her, and while their height difference wasn't much, it felt like he was towering over her like those imposing and terrifying people with how they both seemed to shrink away from each other. He didn't like that feeling. His arm blocked the path further into the house. He knew he didn't want to let her in. That feeling scared him.

Had he... already accepted she would never be there by his side anymore?

Whatever turmoil he was feeling didn't seem to matter as Ophelia locked eyes with him. Maybe she could see all the swirling emotions of his through them. She turned her gaze away, and the accompanied sound of paper gave Keith the excuse to flee her gaze on his end too. Shifting his gaze down toward the page, he started reading over the words and blocks of time. A schedule.

Then she spoke up, and unfortunately, her words trapped him under her gaze again. He wouldn't be able to hide the hurt he had been feeling.

I left you alone, twice.

Those words stung. The reminder of the choice she made to leave hurt all the same as when initially happened. And to remember she did it twice hurt even more. It summoned all those memories of longing and the days spent looking over at her window in hopes of seeing any sign of her being home. Turning his head away, Keith attempted to hide the way he knew his eyes were threatening to water. His hand attempted to squeeze the doorknob out of some physiological instinct for stability, but of course with a Raynaud's attack ongoing, it couldn't do more than ghost the form of a natural grip around it.

I'm sorry, Keith. For everything, but especially for ghosting without even a word. For hurting you.

The mood was clearly heavy for both of them. The seconds and minutes standing there by the door felt like hours. Even if Ophelia didn't say it, Keith could tell she wanted to run. Was that his fault for caging her in this small space? Ha, what kind of guy would do that to his girlfriend, make her feel like that? Yet his half numb, half shaky hand refused to budge from where it was to even allow her the chance to leave through the door (as much as Keith would let her if she wanted to).

I want to stay— I will stay. I will stay.

Could he believe that? His heart pounded in his chest as her declaration of sorts echoed in his head. He couldn't. Not when he truly felt Ophelia had chosen to leave him both times. Gulping hard to somehow compose himself, Keith didn't dare look Ophelia in the eye. He was too scared to, too scared of the words that'd tumble out of his mouth because he knew he couldn't say any of it kindly.

❝ ... I don't think I can trust you when you say that. All of that, ❞ he muttered softly, blue eyes glistening with held back tears. All this time, he felt that she had chosen a life without him in it. Although she had accepted his love confession, nothing she did after that made him feel like she meant it. Her absence hurt so much more when he no longer thought of her as just a friend he might have fallen out with—she was his partner now, and that change amplified every emotion he felt. Even if said absence was because of issues related to her debt, he would've hoped she at least communicated something.

His hand finally returning to its natural hue, it slipped away from the doorknob as if finally allowing Ophelia the chance to run away from the next hurtful string of words he'd pull on her. Though his hand reached for the schedule she offered to him, the one with written promises that highlighted her intention to truly attempt to be with him more often. Despite seeing the numerous slots of time per week meant for him, his heart still felt heavy—ah, he really couldn't believe this, could he?

Fighting back the tears that threatened to spill, his head hung low with the intention of looking over that schedule and committing it to memory, like he still wanted to give her another chance. Yet he still spoke to question the credibility of her words with a shaky voice, ❝ After all, what kind of girlfriend chooses to leave twice? ❞

And if she left a third time, he'd probably break into pieces.

[abrasife]

@shadyinfo POST CONFESSION ART SAYS HI

art by lazzledazzler

[recordmemes]

༘⋆｡  platonic bonds & dynamics starters.

best  friends.

you  said  you'd  always  be  there.  i'm  holding  you  to  that.

i'm  not  leaving  you  alone  with  your  thoughts!

nobody  gets  to  call  you  that  but  me.

do  i  need  to  fight  someone  for  you?

we're  not  just  friends.  you're  my  family.

i'm  already  on  my  way.

if  i  die,  promise  you'll  erase  my  search  history.

we  should  not  be  allowed  unsupervised  in  public.

combined,  we're  one  whole  functioning  adult!

i've  helped  you  lie  to  your  parents,  friends,  &  your  boss...  what's  one  more?

ex-friends.

i  wanted  to  call  you.  every  time  something  happened.

how  did  you  just  stop  caring?

you  can't  pretend  we  weren't  close.

i  miss  you.  i'm  not  sorry.

i  don't  think  i  can  forgive  you.

i  miss  hating  the  same  people  together.

do  your  new  friends  know  the  version  of  you  i  knew?

you  ghosted  me.  but  sure!  let's  pretend  it  was  mutual!

i  still  know  your  favorite  song.

i  didn't  just  lose  my  friend,  i  lost  an  entire  chapter  of  my  life.

rivals.

this  isn't  personal.  you're  just  in  my  way.

why  are  you  so  obsessed  with  beating  me?

you  think  you're  better  than  me?  prove  it.

you  talk  a  lot  for  someone  who's  always  second  place.

did  you  rehearse  that  comeback  in  the  mirror?

do  you  ever  stop  talking?

one  day,  i'm  going  to  beat  you.

i  don't  like  you.  that  doesn't  mean  i  don't  respect  you.

i  didn't  come  to  play  fair,  i  came  to  win.

you  think  i'm  threatened  by  you?  no,  you  just  motivate  me  to  be  better.

roommates.

i  swear  i  didn't  eat  your  leftovers!  well,  not  ALL  of  them.

i  heard  everything.  these  walls  are  thin.

can  you  PLEASE  clean  up  after  yourself?

wanna  watch  a  movie?  i'm  making  popcorn!

you  know  we're  not  friends,  right?  we  just  live  together.

i  think  i  know  your  schedule  better  than  mine  at  this  point.

you  talk  in  your  sleep.

you  can't  just  adopt  a  pet  without  talking  to  me  first!

i'm  going  to  start  charging  your  dates  rent.

if  we  can  survive  living  together,  we  can  survive  anything.

if  your  [  family member  ]  drops  by  unannounced  one  more  time...

academic  partners.

you  forgot  the  project  deadline.  again.

this  was  supposed  to  be  a  group  effort!

i  think  we  would've  crashed  and  burned  without  you.

you  brought  snacks  to  study  group?  okay,  i  think  i  like  you.

we're  not  friends.  stop  telling  me  about  your  personal  life.

you're  actually  kind  of  smart,  you  know?

i'll  be  the  brains,  you  do  the  presentation.

we  agreed  no  emotional  breakdowns  during  mid-terms!

i  cannot  believe  i'm  depending  on  you  to  pass  this  class.

i  need  a  break  so  i  can  scream  into  my  textbook...

do  you  try  to  make  friends  with  EVERY  person  in  group  projects?

siblings.

you're  not  my  [ mom / dad / parent ]!  don't  tell  me  how  to  live.

i'm  allowed  to  make  fun  of  you.  nobody  else  is.

i  know  you  better  than  anyone  else  ever  will.

stop  trying  to  fix  me!

something  bad  happened.  can  i  come  home?

you're  still  the  favorite, even now.

still  trying  to  live  in  my  shadow,  huh?

i'm  not  jealous  of  you!

we  survived  that  house,  that's gotta count  for  something.

remember  how  we  used  to  talk  about  running  away?

[brckenprcmises]

"It's okay to cry. I won't tell anyone." [for Maudie; delete if she isn't available to write with/you don't have muse]

@abrasife / prompted.

She swore she'd made sure she was tucked far enough back on the alley that no one would see her, just wanting to have her breakdown in peace as she took a few minutes standing behind the bar to gather herself. Ugh, she was so sick of being hit on! And this guy's audacity, to literally reach out and touch her ass. The tears rolling down her cheeks pissed her off even more as she kicked the dumpster next to her.

"It's okay to cry. I won't tell anyone."

Turning around at Keith's voice, her eyes widened in shock. Of course. She'd hidden herself away far enough if she hadn't just kicked the dumpster. She was sure that was what caught his attention. She let out a frustrated noise, turning away from him as tears flowed down her face freely even faster now. Not only was she still frustrated, but here she was crying in front of Keith again. Could she have an interaction with him where she wasn't a complete basket case?

"Ugh, sorry." She quickly wiped her face, not being able to entirely calm down in the short amount of time she'd allowed herself, but forcing the tears to stop and pinching her nose. She turned back to Keith with the best smile she could muster and dropped her hand from her nose. "I'm having a really crappy day at work, but no biggie. Thanks for checking on me again. You're a good friend."

She wanted to ask him how he'd been, but she had a feeling he'd turn the conversation back on him and she didn't want to seem like her interest in his life was being used to get out of talking about why she was upset if he decided to enquire on it farther. Shaking hands clasped behind her back, trying to keep her face from falling too much. God, she was exhausted.