this is just a blog to like, document my life i guess? :P and my journey helping my friend andrew! ^_^
he's taking a break off of social media n stuff so i guess i could pass anything you guys wanna tell him to him. just don't expect it, i'm trying to make things as pleasant as possible for him
but like, you can ask me questions, and i'll probably answer them! i might also like, just randomly post my thoughts because i think a lot
ANYWAYS....... i look like this if ur curious!!!!!!! i rlly like the color blue. and tigers. but also penguins. i like a lot of things that are cold i guess!
[IMPORTANT INFORMATION BELOW READ MORE.]
This blog is an interactive story blog that takes place after the events of Bad Things. Isaac is the one who helped Andrew move out, and they currently live together.
Expect the same warnings that apply to Bad Things to apply here, alongside potential self harm and mutilation (these will always have warnings). The journey won't always be pleasant. Recovery (and lack thereof) is a rocky road.
You can influence how this ends (if it ever ends at all).
This blog is a standalone one, so Isaac can comment replies if you choose to use the comments (and, hypothetically, follow you).
Direct OOC (out of character) questions to either @bpdivan or @sawnday (answers will be reblogged to both blogs under the tag #reinstantiation, so you only need to follow one if you want to hear OOC answers and thoughts).
You wait until it is silent. The floor is cold. You’ve been cold for a long time. All you want is warmth, but you wonder if such a thing is possible for someone like you. You remember that you prefer the cold, and you wonder if it’s a lie. You continue onward. You must continue onward. The fate that awaits you will tear you apart if you do not continue.
A shadow lurks in the corner of my eyes. Every time I go to look, there's nothing there.
It thinks I can't see it. But I can. It thinks I don't know who it is. But I know who it is.
He likes corners, tempting me to put myself in the same exact place I used to be with him. I'm not easily tempted by him, not anymore.
Even if a part of me aches for what used to be, the hurt I feel is stronger.
The worst part of being haunted is not being able to talk about it–it's an open secret, but one we don't talk about.
He pretends it's not there.
He pretends he can't see it.
He pretends it's not following him, too.
But I know he does.
He knows something, but I can't ask.
He's sensitive, but I can tell it's in the way that a bomb is.
They're both alike in that way.
And believe me, I feel guilty for feeling this way. Thinking this way. And I tell myself that I should be thankful someone's picking up my broken pieces.
Andrew and Isaac didn’t always eat together, but on the rare occasions they did, it made Isaac’s heart swell. They sat across from each other, but never side by side. This was a fact that Isaac found unfortunate, because the gap across from them felt like a massive ravine that split the Earth, its only purpose to keep them apart. If he had it his way, he would sit next to Andrew, and their shoulders would touch, and, maybe, under the table their hands would find their way to one another. But Isaac didn’t have it his way, so he was resigned to the gap between them. One day, maybe.
Clinking of silverware against plates and muffled chewing were the only sounds that accompanied them. Usually, it wasn’t Andrew to break the silence. And, if Isaac spoke too late, Andrew would already be done eating and on his way out. Isaac reminded himself not to feel frustrated by the quirk, since he knew it was a habit developed over years that was only made worse by Ivan’s influence.
“Andrew,” Isaac began, setting his hands in his lap, “I wanted to ask you something.”
Andrew paused, lowering the sandwich he’d already eaten halfway through. He didn’t answer at first, simply looking at Isaac, searching for… something. He couldn’t find whatever it was he was looking for, though. So, he answered, “... Yeah? What did you wanna ask?”
“So, I’ve been thinking… for Valentine’s Day, we could go do something.” Isaac couldn’t find it in him to look Andrew in the eyes. “Like, maybe go on a picnic, or go out to eat, or…”
“... Are you asking me on a date?” Andrew looked at Isaac quizzically. “Isaac, I’m glad you’ve helped me, but I don’t–”
“O-Oh, no! No, no, no… sorry, I misspoke. I-I meant to say, um, Galentine’s.” When Andrew continued to look puzzled, Isaac continued explaining, motioning frantically with his hands, “I guess it’s a thing. For friends. Platonically. That you can do instead of Valentine’s Day. Which is romantic. Unlike Galentine’s.” Isaac smiled, hoping it was convincing enough to disguise the sting he felt.
“Oh,” was all Andrew said, and then he considered Isaac’s proposal. “Yeah, sure. I think we should go out to eat, because… uh… you’ve been making food so often. It’d... be a nice change.”
Isaac felt his smile grow genuine as it widened, “Y-Yeah! Yeah, okay! You can pick where we go–anywhere you want, we’ll go. I’ll pay for it, too. Oh, and I think I might get some decorations… for the house, I mean. Um, liven things up. And such.” He couldn’t help it when his legs began to kick back and forth under the table, narrowly avoiding contact with Andrew each time.
“... Yeah, sounds good. I’ll let you know if I think of anywhere to go.” Andrew responded as he focused his attention back on his sandwich. He could feel eyes on him as he continued eating. They never left him.
