Sad Stories - Tumblr Posts
" 'cause everytime i get to cloose, i just go mess it up " 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ - MIU
In the beginning, everything with him seemed simple. There were laughs, silent gestures that spoke louder than words, an understanding that needed no explanations. Every day spent together felt like a small miracle, yet inside me, something began to crack. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t our story. It was that voice in my head, the one that never stopped. It whispered that I wasn’t enough, that sooner or later, I would ruin everything. And every time I tried to push it away, it returned stronger, more insistent.
He looked at me with eyes full of love, and I wanted to believe it, truly. But every kind word felt like a promise too big, too fragile. As if a breath could shatter it. So instead of letting myself go, I started to build walls around my heart. It was to protect myself, or maybe to protect him from me. The closer I got, the more I felt the fear grow—the feeling of inadequacy, of never being enough for everything he seemed to give me without asking for anything in return.
In the end, I was the one to destroy it all. I thought leaving him would be the right thing, that by doing so, I would put an end to my uncertainty and constant guilt. I said goodbye, hoping the void I felt would fill with peace, but instead, it left only a silence that was more deafening. I hoped distance would free me from my fears, that I could finally breathe again. But without him, every breath felt heavier, and my loneliness wrapped around me like a shadow I could no longer shake off.
I never stopped thinking about him. Memories of his laughter, his gaze, those moments when everything seemed possible flooded my mind. Every time I told myself it was better this way, another part of me screamed that I had made a mistake. I knew he was moving on, that his life continued without me, while I remained stuck, trapped between what I had lost and the fear of never being able to redeem myself.
I tried to convince myself that I was okay, wearing smiles I didn’t feel, like a mask behind which to hide the chaos within me. I found myself checking my phone, hoping for a message, any excuse to reach out to him again. But every time I thought of getting closer again, I stopped, paralyzed by the terror of making another wrong move, of ruining everything once more.
Sometimes I wondered if it was right to seek him out, if I was just clinging to a dream that could no longer exist. I felt like a castaway trying to hold onto a wave slipping away. Yet every thought returned to him, to us, to what we were and what we could have been if I hadn’t allowed my insecurities to smother everything.
I longed for a second chance, even though I knew it might just be an illusion. I wanted to show him that I could change, that I could be the person he needed. I dreamed of going back, of fixing what I had broken, of breaking the bad habits that had erected barriers between us. But every time I thought of him, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was too late, if his heart had already found a new direction.
Deep down, though, I knew that the real obstacle had never been him, but myself. My fears, my doubts, were like chains holding me captive. Until I learned to free myself from them, I would remain trapped in this cycle, destined to ruin every beautiful thing I touched. And maybe then, I would be truly ready to begin again. Maybe then, I would be ready to love without the fear of not being enough.
Tamagotchi Quest
Welcome to 2020, the year of forest fires, pandemic, and lockdown -- a paradise. I toss the remote at the TV. In a sweet shatter of glass, my Netflix marathon is over. My eyes close as the phantom Tik Tok music rings in my ears. I eye my diary with pages falling out of it. I am bored out of my mind. Then a thought clicks in my head, my Tamagotchi! A strange urge takes over my body. I stand up from my messy, lotion smelling bed. Invisible pins and needles prickle my sleepy legs.
No, the Tamagotchi is probably dead by now. Maybe it has a family now. I walk out of my basement. My eyes feel as if they are on fire as I step into the living room light.
“Clean up the basement.” My mom yells, from her prison, the kitchen.
“Give me 50 minutes,” I enthusiastically yell back. But I am dead inside. I climb up the creaky stairs to the attic. Once I step in, dust billows around like leaves on an autumn day. I pull my shirt over my nose to not catch lung cancer. I open a box filled with my childhood belongings. Inside is my old star wars lego collection. My skateboard, from my 9-years-old-skater past. Behind the box, sits my ancient gaming laptop.
The memories of my mom breaking the screen in a fit of rage fill my mind like a Vietnam-flashback. Next, I check my box again, no Tamagotchi. Perhaps, my sister Ann has it. So I search through her box. I toss her primary school swimming medals out of the way. They clatter on the ground, scattering woodlice. Hell, she loved sports. Ann is the school's top athlete during the days. Meanwhile, I was underage drinking. I toss her red cross youth badge, as I sigh.
Ann was a Marine when she was twenty, while I was gaming in my basement when I was finishing high school. She is a military wife, adopting orphans from war zones. Wait, she hates playing with Tamagotchi. I should check Simon’s.
I knock over stacks of the books Simon had during his bookworm days. Then, I rummage through his science fair medals. He is a genius, I am the average Joe.
After that, I comb the entire attic for my Tamagotchi. It’s nowhere to be seen. I sit on the floor. Oh dear, how I wasted my life on mindless entertainment. I peaked in primary school. A pang of remorse makes me queasy. The clock in the corner ticks away with my wasted youth.
But I still have plenty of time left. I storm down to my basement and delete my Steam account. It’s time to make a change.
Image source: https://www.eonline.com/news/843044/the-original-tamagotchi-is-back-so-prepare-to-never-get-any-work-done-ever-again
Rain and Rebirth
Summer Love The Series
Summary: Flynn, devastated by her boyfriend's accident, is haunted by grief. One stormy night, her boyfriend appears at her window, alive but injured. The reunion washes away her sorrow, hinting at a new beginning for their love story.
Rain lashed against my window, mimicking the rhythm of my heart – a frantic, erratic beat that echoed the disarray in my soul. Clark. Even his name, whispered on a sigh, sent a fresh wave of sorrow crashing over me. We weren't supposed to be like this. Stolen glances across the classroom, whispered jokes, and stolen moments under the bleachers – that was how our story began. But then came the accident, the screech of tires, the sickening thud. Now, Clark was a memory, a ghost haunting the halls of my life.
Tonight, the phantoms were relentless. Every creak of the floorboard, every rustle of leaves outside my window, sent shivers down my spine. I yearned for the warmth of his embrace, the feeling of his hand slipping into mine. Tears welled up, blurring the already distorted world around me.
A choked sob escaped my lips, shattering the fragile silence. Burying my face in my pillow, I sank deeper into the quicksand of grief. Suddenly, a soft rapping at my window startled me. Heart pounding, I hesitantly peeked out.
There, illuminated by the streetlight, stood Clark. Not a spectral image, but him, in all his freckled, goofy glory. Rain plastered his hair to his forehead, and his clothes were soaked through, but the smile on his face could light up a thousand stormy nights.
Disbelief warred with a desperate hope in my chest. Throwing open the window, I gasped, "Clark? Is that really you?"
A grin, wider than the Cheshire Cat's, split his face. "Hey there, stranger. Heard you could use some company."
Without a second thought, I scrambled out of the window, ignoring the sting of rain on my bare arms. We stood there for a moment, the rain creating a curtain around us, the only world that existed being the space between us.
"How...?" I began, voice thick with emotion.
He cupped my face in his wet hands, his thumbs gently brushing away stray tears. "Let's just say I missed you too much to stay away."
His touch, so real, so familiar, sent a jolt through me. Leaning into his warmth, I whispered, "But the accident..."
"I'm okay," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. "A little banged up, but okay. I woke up in the hospital thinking about you, and I knew I had to see you."
His words were a balm to my wounded soul. Relief washed over me, warm and sweet, chasing away the phantoms that had haunted me for so long. In that moment, under the relentless downpour, I knew our story wasn't over. It was just beginning, a little battered and bruised, but stronger, more precious than ever before.
Shadow of Durge Oneshot
Us until the end 1/3
here an other serious comic about the prequel of the main story, a little Oneshot focusing on the moment when Orin's mother tried to kill her when she was young.
enjoy it🫀
Mam przyjaciół czy tylko nazywam ludzi przyjaciółmi?
Czy można nazwać przyjacielem kogoś kto nie wie praktycznie nic o tym co czujesz i myślisz?
Czy przyjaciela można nazwać kims z kim tylko pijesz?
Czy przyjaciel to ktoś dla kogoś jesteś zawsze, przyjaźnisz się tyle lat, ale gdy widać na zewnątrz twoją chorobę to ma cię dość, bo ty też masz problemy?
Przyjaciele mogą być nie idealni, ale gdy ty też jesteś to cię zostawiają, zapominają o tym jaka jesteś, jedyne co widzą to to, że nie jesteś idealna Nie możesz mieć problemów, bo ludzie gdy widzą problem to uciekają, przynajmniej tych których znam
Dajesz z siebie wszystko, nie umiesz myśleć o sobie i się zaniedbujesz byle przyjaciel był szczęśliwy
Widzą, że nie jesteś dobrą osobą i mimo, że nie chcesz ich obciążać, jeśli powiesz choć słowo, przestraszą się..
W tedy nagle zobaczysz, że jesteś sam
Mam przyjaciół czy tylko nazywam ludzi przyjaciółmi?
Czy można nazwać przyjacielem kogoś kto nie wie praktycznie nic o tym co czujesz i myślisz?
Czy przyjaciela można nazwać kims z kim tylko pijesz?
Czy przyjaciel to ktoś dla kogoś jesteś zawsze, przyjaźnisz się tyle lat, ale gdy widać na zewnątrz twoją chorobę to ma cię dość, bo ty też masz problemy?
Przyjaciele mogą być nie idealni, ale gdy ty też jesteś to cię zostawiają, zapominają o tym jaka jesteś, jedyne co widzą to to, że nie jesteś idealna Nie możesz mieć problemów, bo ludzie gdy widzą problem to uciekają, przynajmniej tych których znam
Dajesz z siebie wszystko, nie umiesz myśleć o sobie i się zaniedbujesz byle przyjaciel był szczęśliwy
Widzą, że nie jesteś dobrą osobą i mimo, że nie chcesz ich obciążać, jeśli powiesz choć słowo, przestraszą się..
W tedy nagle zobaczysz, że jesteś sam
I just read if he had been with me and this book has officially destroyed me. I won't be able to read again for weeks..
I wanted a break from sad books and I just wanted a simple nice happy love story but what..?????
This movie. This book. This masterpiece.
Hi i don't know if you take writing requests but if you do could you write a villain with mind reading powers?
I most definitely will take writing requests! Though, I won't write anything that makes me uncomfortable. Villains, though, I can do.
I will warn that this is gonna have some heavy topics, so here's your Content Warning: Affair outside wedlock, intense invasions of privacy, briefly implied transphobia, threats/execution of threats against a school/students
You wanted a villain, so here's a tragic villain with a backstory. Lemme know what you think🖤
(Like all my stories, this is not beta read/peer reviewed)
The Outlier
Max had known since he was a kid that he was special; stranger than other kids. For as long as he could remember, he was different; the outlier.
The first give away was the way his parents looked at him. Side eyes when they thought he wasn't looking. Whispers when they thought he couldn't hear. Smiles that didn't seem genuine, and only got faker as he got older.
The second tell was the looks he got from other kids. Girls weren't supposed to like the colour blue. Girls weren't supposed to like action figures and bugs. Good thing he's not a girl, then.
The third, and biggest thing, was that he could hear voices. They didn't usually talk to him directly, and were mostly whispers in the wind. When he told his parents, they told him it was cute to have imaginary friends. His parents were his parents, so they must've been right when they said he'd grown out of them.
But the voices didn't go away. They only got louder.
By the time he was ten years old, he could match the voices in his head to those of his classmates. The one always thinking about how cute Joshua is was Cindy's voice. The one constantly thinking about lunch and recess was Ethan.
All of the voices were so mundane and never really strayed from their normal thoughts. The bigger voices, though, the voices of adults, were interesting to listen to.
His teacher, Mrs. Kingston, only ever had three topics on her mind: Anticipation to get away from her students, her next lesson, or how cute Mr. Spring - who is not her husband - was.
Shame. Max liked this teacher. Oh, well.
As Max got older, the voices got louder, but he could still ignore them as though they were white noise. He'd even managed to figure out how to focus on one voice, making it louder while the rest faded out.
That's how he found out, in middle school, that the eighth grade chemistry teacher, Ms. Adam, was planning to blow the joint. Literally.
Her class had been working with some chemicals that, while mixed in small, were harmless, but were deadly in large amounts.
She, apparently, was on a downward spiral and no one knew anything. Well, almost no one. Max had known Ms. Adam was going through some stuff, but he'd always filtered her out. Not his circus, not his monkey.
Regardless, he needed to tell someone. If he didn't, then the whole school would be blown up by the end of tomorrow! As much as he hated school, he had grown attached to some of the people here. Besides, he quite liked living in spite of everyone he didn't think he deserved to. It was funny to watch them turn red.
Maybe that should've been the first red flag.
The second the bell rang, he was in the halls and quickly moving to the principal's office. He'd know what to do! He's an adult! He's the adult in charge of the rest of the adults, so they had to listen to him!
But adults don't believe children. Children don't know any better. Children don't know anything.
But Max did. Max knee everyone. Max knew people and their thoughts better than anyone else. And Max knew, for a fact, that the adults had failed him.
He managed to get thirty-two students out and to the far side of the field before the building went up in flames.
It was that event that ultimately brought him to where he now was.
He'd always been a smart kid, using other people's inner dialogues on top of his own knowledge to get things done. In a year, he amassed a following of other kids. Kids that had been failed by adults. Kids that shouldn't have had to grow up before their time. Kids who had only ever wanted to be kids.
Together, they grew. Together, they quietly took over the crime ring in the city. Together, the planned for expansion into the world. Now, together, they would take over the city. Then, together, they would work to take over the country.
If the adults were going to fail the children, then there was no need for them. The system was broken by adults who intended for their children to fix it, so the children were going to fix it. Adults had no place in the new system.
Max became The Outlier. The children he'd taken on as his own, despite being younger than a lot of them, became The Mavericks. Adults all over had become The Unwanted.
The Outlier would not allow The Mavericks to kill. He would rather have the blood haunting his nightmares for all eternity than to let even a drop stain the hands of a child. A group of older kids, however, disagreed. They named themselves Bohemians and they became his generals. They became the kill order. And The Mavericks never knew execution.
There were some who opposed the ordered death of The Unwanted, but they were few and far between. If they spoke too loudly, they became a part of the Court. They spoke in favor of adults, acting as their jury when brought before The Outlier and Bohemians. They never won a case.
Max had made it known, when he had taken over the city, that it was adults that had failed him - them - so it was adults that would pay.
Children were innocent, unable to do any wrong. They were to be protected from the people that would only continue to fail them.
But, quietly, in the privacy and secrecy of his room, Max dreaded the day he'd grow up. It's inevitable, he know, but he still fears that he'd become like them. He didn't want to be an adult because he didn't want to fail anyone.
Storyboard
There was a box of loose batteries at the store that said "free of charge" but when I took some home they were already dead :(
Fr, I consumed After by Anna Todd in one week but now I can’t read more than 50 pages a day because my mind starts to fog.
I hope your plushie arrives in a good condition :(
~`𝕸𝖊𝖑𝖚𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖊~
Being a celtic fairy, Melusine (or Melusina) was usually depicted as a beautiful woman with a snake tail. The myth tells that she was one of the three daughters of a fairy called Pressyne and a mortal man.
The parents lived in peace until the man found another love. The three daughters decided to avenge by killing their father. But only then they discovered that Pressyne truly loved their father.
"Miserable girls- said Pressyne- You thought you had the right to kill your father. Now I lost everything I had, my love, and so will you. Now you will understand what means to lack something you desire. "
And so she cursed them the way only mother can. Melusine was made to watch over a spring and wait for a man to find her and love wholeheartedly. She was forced to watch people quenching their thirst while unable to quench her own.
Time flew. One day a man found her and fell in love. She gave him everything: love, wealth, power, kingdom, lovely kids. They were happy. And in turn she asked him only for one thing: one day, Saturday, was her day, he couldn't see her on Saturday. The mystery was: she transformed into a serpent on that day... The man took the oath.
At first the man seemed to keep the promise. But mystery is more powerful than love, even the greatest.
He hid and watched what she was doing in her ward on that day. The mystery was ruined, the love too. She noticed him and flew away in rage and fear.
"Poor daughter- said Pressyne- Now you understand what a thirst is. "