she wasn’t threatening , in fact the bright nature of her outfit followed with the aura that clung to her , she could be quite the opposite ! which was perfect for a situation like this . angie had noticed the other all alone , looking pretty down , or maybe she was just reading into it too much , she had a tendency to do that !
walking over with a drink in each hand , she places a cup soundlessly soft on the table near the other . ❛ you looked like you needed a small pick me up . ❜ the white lid decorated with a doodle of a flower && a cartoonish smiley face . she did it herself , always carrying a sharpie in that mess of a purse she has all the time .
if u thought u were gonna get away without a long sappy bday post from this bitch, u guessed WRONG !!
thank u for coming into my life at the absolute perfect time 💞 it was truly just some good ass fate that we ended up in each other’s IMs, and now here we are. i really can’t explain how much i needed (and still need) your presence, but thank u for being my rock and my biggest supporter in absolutely everything. (even the small things, like encouraging me to get those mcdonalds fries when i 100% dont need them but want them). you have the biggest heart and the ability to make me laugh even when i feel absolutely freaking terrible. as much as i wish i could be there with you, i think god knows if he put us in the same city on this earth, we’d both be dead within a week, most likely underneath a pile of half eaten chicken nuggets.
a special shoutout to our cancerian cry baby asses !! but at least i have you to validate me for all my emotional bs. nothing makes me happier than being able to talk to & spend time with you, and i can’t wait to see you so soon baby!!!!! have the BEST BEST BESTEST birthday ever, you deserve every single minute of sunshine and happiness that comes your way.
“i didn’t mean to push you away.” (abel to pascal)
ok bye
“ i don’t know what i’m doing. ” it’s mumbled, low enough that pascal’s clearly talking to himself though not low enough that abel can’t hear. pascal’s distracted anyways, head turning over the idea that he did this and now he’s going to have to live with it. he hates every bit of it: the way he should’ve known things would go this way, how he had it in him to do it at all but mostly he hates the fact that he’d fucking do it again. how ridiculous.
“ pascal, just.. ” there’s a twisted little frown – abel’s never been good at watching pascal crumble. “ i’m sorry. i didn’t mean for –– ”
that’s what gets him. an apology, like the entire thing wasn’t set up from the start. like abel didn’t come back when pascal was happy and settled and over it. as over it as he’d ever be, until now. he stops fiddling and stiffens at that, sticking out a hand because no part of him wants to hear it. it’ll only blur the lines further, if that’s even possible, and pascal needs to realize that none of this is real. they can laugh and kiss and fuck all they want, but the fact of the matter is abel’s done nothing but pluck whatever dreams pascal had right out of the sky and set them on fire in favour of himself.
“ just don’t –– please don’t. i don’t want to hear it. ” if he’s shaking, he’s too distracted to register it. he’s felt a lot of things towards abel and given their history it hasn’t always been pleasant. but angry? no, never like this. it must click then because abel goes quiet even if the frown doesn’t dissolve. pascal doesn’t move, just stands there in fear of any broken pieces tumbling out of he takes a step.
“ we can figure this out. ” it’s soft, but something has to be said.
“ figure out what? you left me. ” there’s a crack to his voice at the end of that, his throat tight with emotion. to say it out loud, have it hang in the air and know it’s true just hurts. it hurts too much.
“ i didn’t mean to push you away. ” in another situation, pascal would be forgiving. understanding. because that’s the role he’s played this entire fucking time. stretching himself out for abel because he loves him and he’d do anything to make him happy. when is he going to get the same courtesy?
“ but you did! ” it’s louder than either of them are used to. pascal isn’t a yeller by any means and has never raised his voice like this, but it’s all rolling downhill and there’s no way to throw things into reverse and fix it. he’s a cheater and it’s because he’s weak and abel decided this was better than pascal being happy, being married and satisfied and genuinely okay. “ you pushed me away. i did everything i could and i get it, okay? i get everything was fucked up, but i don’t – “ it’s the realization, then, that maybe it’s always been this way. maybe he’s always loved abel more, because pascal would never do this to him. wouldn’t even think of it. he feels the burn of tears springing to his eyes and he’d stop if he could, but he’s too angry and too hurt and he doesn’t have the patience or the mind to hide it anymore. so he cries, even though he hates himself for it. “ – i don’t deserve this, abel. i felt so unwanted for so long after you left me even more so when i realized you weren’t coming back and you know, i start to get over it. finally, after all of that i’m finally happy and you can’t stand it, can you? that i’m happy without you? ” he reaches up to press his palms to his face and it’s wet because he can’t stop crying and he sounds downright hysterical but he doesn’t care. he’s happy without abel, surely, but it’s not the same and the reality of that is too much. it’s raw, chopped up with sobs and years of sadness flooding out at a rate beyond his control. “ d-don’t tell me you love me. it was supposed to be me and you –– we were supposed to be together. but then you ruined us and then you ruined me, so just d-don’t, okay? please. i am begging you. i-i c-can’t l-listen to it anymore. ”
with a sharp inhale, pascal grabs his wallet and keys off the counter and heads towards the door. there’s damage control to be done and all he can think about is how sad he is that this is how it turned out. this is how they turned out.
if abel says anything after that pascal doesn’t hear it –– he’s already on his way.
it’s been years since they’ve worked and he’s not sure they ever will, so he resolves to fix things and get back to his real life. one where abel is just an ex-boyfriend, one where he doesn’t have to hurt so much. when he steps out into the hall and heads towards the stairs, he tells himself this firmly: this is the last time.
send me a 🌌 for random positivity about someone’s blog!
tbh i spend too much time gushin over the same people that KNOW i love their asses so i’m gonna come at this and tag some people that have followed me recently ooor that i’ve spoken to recently how bout dat ok !!
@sunkisseds –– soo we just started to finally get started plotting which is super fun tbh and i’m rly excited about what we’ve talked about !! from what you’ve told me about your muses so far they all seem super lovely tbh, and you’ve always been so friendly and willing to chat / plot which is always so nice when you’re just starting to chat w someone for the first time !! not to mention your blog is very Aesthetique™ and i luv the colours and your muse page !!
@moonlitely –– wassup !! we have never spoken tbh and i think just recently became mutuals but i’ve deffo creeped your blog and read your writing and it’s so lovely ?? fuck me up ?? anyways HM yes you’re definitely someone i’m creepin’ from afar be sure of That One !
@kyukcn –– tbh im a fake bc i said i wasn’t gonna talk about the same people but.. i haven’t bragged about u in a while and i don’t like that so. idc what you say about ur blog and ur muses i LOVE THEM and i love our ships so much?? they are our actual children?? and what would i do without all the liam icons u make?? tbh nobody feels my appreciation for liam like u do and i adore you tbh thank you for being the mOST bomb friend
Sometimes, Willow still got flashbacks of the ocean ringing in her ears. The War had finished, and shortly after, her current partner decided to propose to her. Just an English fella, an upper-class boy that her parents met in their artistry coctels. He was... Nice. He paid attention to her, was nice to the eye, was funny. But... Willow was missing something. It was an odd sensation that followed her after the tragedy.
Now, she is walking down the streets of New York, discussing with her mom and sister. They needed to form alliance, to get money and pay for Skylar’s illness. It wasn’t love what mattered. Willow would have to let go of her dreams of a career, of studying and becoming someone on her own. She would be the picture-perfect wife of a rich man. Zero adventure.
Laurelia was Maya’s favorite flower shop in NYC. She has been requesting it since the proposal. Obeying her mother’s orders, she enters the place with Skylar, a bell jinglling atop of the door. The place was packed with people, and a small smile touched Willow’s pink lips. She was supposed to have an appointment with the owner, and she hoped he wasn’t too busy. Stakes were high for this wedding.
In the meantime, Sky and Willow are strolling around the store. Waiting for a sign, laughing, trying to find something fitting for the big night.
the letter is left alone upon the kitchen island after her father and brother take up their mail. the envelope immediately catches the girl’s eye. while the address handwritten on the front was hers, the recipient was not. her immediate instinct is to take the letter to the post office, surely someone there would be able to ensure that the recipient retrieved their intended mail. but, as it sat lonely upon the slab of marble, juliet just couldn’t help herself. how often did people handwrite letters? tearing into the envelope and reading what was inside fills her with the urge to reply. this person, dominic, deserved that much.
dear dominic,
i hope this letter finds you in good health, and i hope all is well. perhaps, i
should start this letter off by apologizing. i’m not your old pen-pal, it’s an
honest mistake, really. my family and i only moved into this house a few
years ago, my father wanted a fresh start after my mother passed away.
my father figured all of the old mail stopped coming a while ago but, i
guess it didn’t. i can’t really answer all of your questions since, again,
i’m not your old pen pal but, i hope you’re settling into your new place
and i’m sure you’ll make friends in no time. i sincerely hope you don’t find
me rude for opening your letter and responding. you see, i don’t have many
friends here, either and reading your letter made me think that perhaps we
could be friends? i can always find out where your actual pen pal is and make
sure they get your original letter, if that’s what you prefer. take care.
sincerely,
juliet derosiers
the process of writing this letter takes about four hours; starting and stopping, hating the way she coming across, wondering if she should even be responding in the first place and crumpling attempt after attempt until the wastebasket beside her desk was overflowing. once she is somewhat content with what she has written, the letter is folded into an envelope, stamped and sent off. ( with little hope for a reply, truthfully. )
@spillseas — working in the emergency department was unlike any job caelan had experienced before. it was always such high intensity in trauma; often times at work he would be so busy with cases that he would forget to take his lunch break. granted, lunch breaks are at midnight and that’s usually when the most interested cases came through; it was only a thirty minute break regardless. however, this would often lead to caelan feel starved when he got off shift. he was supposed to get off at three in the morning, but a four car pile-up caused him to not leave until past four. it wasn’t long before he was parking at the apartment complex and in dire need of making himself something to eat before he could sleep.
he was going up the stairs to get in a bit more exercise before he heard the groaning from someone on the floor below his. his eyebrows furrowed as he followed the sound; still far too in work-mindset. however, when his eyes finally connected to the cause of the sounds, he quickly made his way over to quincy. they definitely didn’t have the best track-record; he had offered many times for the other to come by for dinner for company and has been denied each offer. he would check up on quincy; despite how much the other hated it and he only recently learned his name. he knew the silence after a break-up far too well and he wanted to make sure the other male was okay. he knealed down beside quincy as he reached out to touch his shoulder cautious. “quincy? are you alright? why are you laying in the hall?”, he questioned as he tried to see if the other was responsive or not.
