Fanfic writes just know that if I like a fic of yours and havenāt reblogged it yet itās because Iām saving it to read and havenāt had a chance to. 9 times out of 10 I will reblog after I read!
once i beat the depression and the burnout and the anxiety and the loneliness and the exhaustion and the guilt and the awkwardness and the apathy and the low income and the chronic illness and the impatience and the vulnerability and the creative block and the capitalism and the cruelty THEN you'll see
My name is Mahmoud, and I'm a 17-year-old from Gaza. The ongoing war has devastated my city, destroyed my school, and made daily life incredibly challenging.
Despite these hardships, I'm determined to continue my education and build a better future. I've been given a chance to study abroad, but I need help to cover the costs of leaving Gaza, as well as living expenses and other essentials abroad once the crossing opens.. š
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Summary: Eddie fucked up, and he thinks you wont love him anymore.
WC: 740ish
Read on Ao3!
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The silence in the trailer was thick, hanging heavy as a storm on the verge of breaking. You sat on the edge of Eddieās bed, your knees drawn up close to your chest, arms wrapped around them as you tried to ground yourself. Outside, the rain beat down on the thin walls of the trailer, each droplet drumming a nervous heartbeat in the background.
Eddie stood in front of you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting with the many rings on his fingers, his hair hanging like a dark curtain around his face. He kept his gaze down, almost as if he were afraid that if he looked you in the eye, heād lose his resolve. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising with it, but still, no words came.
Finally, he broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know I messed up."
You looked up, and the pain in his eyes mirrored your own. "Yeah, you did."
He winced, running a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends in that way he did when he was feeling desperate. "I donāt know whyā¦ why I always feel the need to push you away when things get too close. When things get good." His voice was raw, as if every syllable hurt. "I know it doesnāt make sense. None of this makes sense. I donāt know whatās wrong with me."
Eddieās eyes found yours, pleading, hoping for understanding that he didnāt deserve, for forgiveness that he hadnāt earned.
You wanted to say something sharp, to remind him that heād hurt you, that heād left you wondering if any of the moments youād shared meant anything to him at all. But there was an ache in your heart that softened your anger, that made your words come out gentle instead of harsh.
"You know, Eddieā¦" you started, your voice soft but steady. "I love you. Iāve loved you even when youāre a stubborn, difficult mess of a person. Even when you make me feel like this, like youāre holding me at armās length and breaking my heart all at once. But I canāt keep doing this. I canāt keep waiting for you to let me in, only for you to shut me out again."
He reached out then, his hands hovering near yours, uncertain, as if he thought he didnāt have the right to touch you anymore. "Iām so sorry. Iām an idiot, I know. But Iām trying, okay? Iā¦ I donāt know how to love someone like you. Someone who actuallyā¦ cares about me." His voice broke at the end, and for the first time, you saw the vulnerability in him, the fear that lay behind his walls.
Taking his hands in yours, you looked up at him. "I need you to mean it this time, Eddie. I need you to say it, and I need to believe it."
He took a shuddering breath, as if he were bracing himself for a leap off a cliff. "I love you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. But then, he said it again, stronger, as if he were willing the words to be true, to feel true, even if he didnāt think he deserved them. "I love you, alright? I love you more than I know how to say."
You closed your eyes, letting the words settle over you, feeling the warmth in his voice as he said them. There was still a part of you that wanted to guard your heart, to keep a piece of yourself protected in case he left again. But this was Eddie, and despite everything, you loved him enough to take that risk.
"Can I hear you tell me you love me again?" you whispered, your own voice trembling with the weight of the moment.
He let out a shaky laugh, pulling you closer, his forehead resting against yours. "Iāll say it as many times as you need," he murmured, his hands finally settling on your waist, holding you close as if he were afraid youād vanish. "I love you. Iām yours, okay? If youāll still have me."
You pressed a hand to his cheek, letting your fingers trace the line of his jaw. "Iāll always have you, Eddie. But donāt make me regret it."
And for the first time in a long time, as he wrapped his arms around you, you felt like you were where you belonged.
Project 2025 ain't gonna roll out all at once. So what we're gonna wanna do is make passing each individual part of it as difficult as possible, so there's less to undo once we finally get this country back on the rails.
Resist every step and do not get distracted by stupid bullshit. Distracting people with stupid bullshit is one of Trump's favorite political techniques. We saw it all over the place in the first term.
Trump will say something like "You know the Hispanics actually punch kittens, it's what they do."
And the news will be like "TRUMP SAID HISPANIC PEOPLE PUNCH KITTENS" for three weeks.
And while they're doing that the Republicans in Congress have quietly deleted healthcare.
Do not get distracted by stupid bullshit. Trump is a dancing monkey whose greatest asset is the ability to yank the spotlight off of everyone else. Keep your eyes on Congress.
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