* wasted youth !

i’ll try and sort through my drafts later today and possibly drop some of them if they’re outdated. i’ll also go through my muses and put a couple of them on hiatus. i want to get back to writing, but i don’t want to feel overwhelmed.

i’m currently doing an inpatient treatment at a hospital i’ve been admitted to a couple of times in the past. i’m doing well and am on a good way to recovery, but i’m going to need a little longer until i can come back.

as you probably noticed, i haven’t been around here at all, mostly because my focus at this time needs to be on my own mental health. i’m sorry to anyone who felt abandoned by me. 

i can’t wait to write with all of you again once i’m better. ♥

LOW ACTIVITY NOTICE

for the time being. i have to focus on my life at the moment, to fix things i have messed up in the past. i’m currently barely in the headspace to write or even focus on things longer than a few minutes, so it’s exhausting to even think up sentences.

Rules: Answer the questions in a new post and tag 20 blogs you would like to get to know better. Repost, don’t reblog.

Tagged by: stolen from @rosetozier Tagging: you reading this!

“ you’re observant. “   she laughed, hands dropping back to her side, her smile bright as she moves from her position leaning against the wall.   “ i’m sure i’ll navigate the maze soon enough. can’t blame me for taking my time - it’s such a large school. “   she laughs, following him into the classroom to look around. 

she sets her camera down on a desk, quick to turn back to the friendly colleague to take his hand.   “ heather duke. “   she chirps in response, smile bright.   “ hopefully we’ll be on a first name basis then? you can only be called  ‘ms. duke, ma’am’  so many times a day before you start to feel ANCIENT. “   she turns away, eager to explore, quick to find pictures that she assumes were from the students. somehow it’s reassuring that he isn’t a teacher, that he isn’t some high-ranking elitist department head. funny how anyone with even the slightest bit of superior rank could feel PROUD of themselves.    “ so is it a NEW club? relatively, at least? “ 

“ it’s certainly larger than one would think for a small town like this. they shut down the high school in bangor a few years ago, so we got all the students from there, too. ”  he’s maybe been a little too interested in the history of the town and the school as a kid - the last fragments of his quite lonely life as the class nerd being useless facts like this one. he returns her firm handshake, smile lingering.  “ first name is fine by me. the kids actually call me jules too - for that exact reason. and since i’m not really a part of the faculty there’s not much anyone could do about that. ” 

he quietly watches her scope out the room for a while, arms folded in front of his chest almost defensively. he loves this room fiercely, he realizes, and it’s weird. who had feelings about a room? it’s probably childhood memories of endless afternoons spent in here that still linger in the back of his mind, forming a more meaningful relationship to this place than he’d like to admit. ( i spent some of the happiest days of my childhood here. and today? i’m still a weirdo, still a nerd. people don’t change at all, do they? ) 

❛❛ My breakfast of choice would be PANCAKES with chocolate chips. Of course, you’d understand I can’t eat that every day. ❜❜ Shaun laughed a little at that. IMAGINE! His blood sugar would be insanely unhealthy. ❛❛ Some people think that I should be healthy just because I’m a doctor. I don’t think that’s TRUE! I know plenty of doctors with UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOUR!  ❜❜           /  @wickedpaths ; starter call. 

all she wanted was to get a damn infusion so her fucking head would stop pounding, but the annoyingly cheerful doctor seemed to want no part in that. he kept yapping on and on about breakfast --- the thought of eating anything while her head was swimming with the worst hangover of the century... she briefly considered puking on his shoes just to make a point, but instead settled on an unmistakably hostile look in his direction.

@wickedpaths liked this. 

         “ —– i don’t KNOW who you are, ” his tone is COLD and calculating —- uncertainty weighs at the edge of his mind ; a whisper ; a cry. “ and even if i did, which I DO NOT, i hardly doubt it would mean anything to me. ” okay, sure, he’s HEARD about the demon before —- briefly, and only in passing, but it really didn’t MATTER to august. arioch was nothing to him, just like aamon. demons were useless to him ; they could never compare to the power the antichrist held in his hands. 

“oh------- feisty one, aren’t cha!” he eyes the nephilim curiously -- usually they were submissive, sad little beings, obsessed with doing good and ‘living up to their legacy’, something arioch didn’t quite understand. why would anyone want to use such great power to do something as boring and unsatisfying as helping people? at least without a personal gain? but this one seems different - the hostile energy he radiates is almost palpable. which is partly the reason he had sought him out.

BACK THERE. Back in the void, in the darkness. he remembers that head turning over, seeing bloated skin of barely recognizable children. IT ate them. Had it done it to Victor and Belch too? He’d RUN.

He’s LISTENING even though he’s not looking directly at the boy. thin straw taping at the table in front of them.  Blood running so icy cold through his veins. no. no, not a crybaby. Henry responds with a shake of his head. was i there? in your dream? PLEASE, don’t let me be.

he jams the straw into the hole of the juice box with accuracy. he brings the juice box to his lips, suddenly parched. Hard swallow. “    i dream about that place too. all the time.” they beat me when I scream, eddie. “i   i dream about Vic and Belch     and    “ how i left them. “    doesn’t leave my head. IT won’t.” that thing is down there with all those teeth and     waiting.  

it’s strangely reassuring when he sees the shake of henry’s head through his armor of defensiveness. the burn of tears in his eyes is still overwhelming, but he doesn’t feel as childish anymore. ( what you’ve been through - the horrors you’ve seen? it’s okay to be afraid of that, maybe. if even henry is... ) 

hands keep fidgeting, kneading, anything to keep them from visibly shaking. he’s upset, of course, the nightmare now clearer than before, thanks to the recollection. maybe he should have never mentioned it. but then again: henry starts talking, opening up. it’s the first time they’re actually speaking about what had happened.

“do you think it’s ever going to get better?”