Bistro Huddy Has Become My Life.

bistro huddy has become my life.

A few doodles

TAYLOR SWIFT Announcing her new album 'The Tortured Poets Deparment' at the 66th GRAMMYs (Feb 04, 2024)

You’re the poet in my heart

Misty Day x Reader

warnings- Suicide attempt ngl, kinda sad but then happy, copious amounts of yearning

Also guys sorry I’m not hyperfixated on the hunger games anymore so I’m having trouble finding the motivation to write for lucky 😭🙏

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You were young when you met her, you remember the days running barefoot through through the woods and the excitement feeling in the pit of your stomach associated with her smile, she was like a breath of fresh air after being stuck inside all day. The days spent in bed with her singing softly to you, occasionally pressing a kiss to your knuckles or stroking your hair. A delightful change as you had always considered yourself rather plain. The smell of her lingering in the air when she wasn’t around, consuming your days.

You had always known she was special, although it never occurred to you to mind. Misty on her own meant so much to you that it wouldn’t bother you. Until members of the local church you both attended picked up on these abilities.

They had dragged her in the middle of the night, kicking and screaming from her bed. You had followed along, shouting and pleading with them not to hurt her, nobody listened. that’s when it hit you. You knew you were going to lose her. And as they strung her up to the wooden podium you screamed. You screamed and cried until all the air was gone from your lungs, you screamed until you couldn’t anymore and someone had to pull you away.

After that you felt empty, you couldn’t eat or sleep for weeks, like a part of you was missing. You sat at your desk, scribbling down letters, despite knowing she’d never read them you continued writing anything you felt. Mountains of paragraphs describing the details of how you missed her. You felt totally hopeless and like there was nothing you could do to feel normal again, not without Misty. You needed to clear your mind.

So you stepped out into the crisp night, feeling the cool breeze dancing along your skin as you walked to the creek bed through the woods. You stood on the bank and looked over. Noticing the water had risen due to the spring showers plaguing your town. Then an idea walked into your head.

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You could jump.

So as you stripped off your cardigan, and peeled off your shoes and stepped off the bank, plunging into the cool heap beneath, the last thing running through your mind was Misty.

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However you awoke, smelling the Louisiana mud in the air, and feeling it deep through your fingers. You moved yourself, attempting to fill your lungs. Peering around, you had noticed you were in a garden of some sort. You didn’t recognize it but there was a tiny cabin near where you were. You attempted to get up however you stumbled a bit before eventually catching your balance. You made your way towards the cabin hearing the familiar sounds of Fleetwood Mac playing from the inside. You felt a sense of nostalgia connected to it, however in your state you found it unable to reach into the depths of your memory and pull out any memory you had associated with the music. You raised your hand and knocked at the door.

You were immediately greeted with a warm presence, wrapping you in her arms, and with the sight of her smile and the smell of her hair in the crook of your neck, the memories came flooding back to you.

Tears began to spill from your eyes onto her. She Leaned away from the embrace and began stroking your face with her cool, ringed fingers.

And you knew, that you had found what you had searched for.

cardigan - taylor swift

Stevie photographed by Chris Walter at her home - 1981.

I think about him everyday