Forgotten - Blog Posts
“I Hope You Feel What I Felt When You Shattered My Soul, Cause You Were Cruel and I Am Fool…
So Please Let Me Go”
I Love You So-The Walters
They don’t even care enough about you ..
The Art of Forgetting
Event: Angstpril 2025, hosted by: @chaos-company
Prompt: Day 1: Forgotten
Fandom: 9-1-1
Ship/Romantic Attachment: Eddie Diaz/Evan "Buck" Buckley | Buddie
Rating: T
A little back posting because I definitely only found this event today \(^.^)/
To the world it was supposed to be a beautiful, cloudy Tuesday morning. To Eddie and Christopher, it was something completely different. The atmosphere felt heavy, and like gravity was pushing down on their lungs. Christopher had lost something, and it was so tangible that Eddie felt the melancholy of the moment.
They had both lost something, and Eddie, for the life of him, couldn't remember anything that he used to find comfort in. The way that Buck’s smile would crinkle in the corners of his eyes, and how light his laugh sounded. Most of the time it could be mistaken for a chorus flying on the wings of the Southeastern wind.
No matter how many people told him it was the wrong choice, he hadn’t left El Paso. He never went back to Los Angeles to rejoin the 118 firehouse. Now, it was too late, and everyone moved on. Everyone. Including.
Baby blue eyes that could smash any wall that Eddie had ever dreamed to build around his heart. But ten years later.
Ten years later, he was starting to lose touch.
Those crows feet around Buck’s eyes were softening out into a bleary view. His voice starting to fade into ether where Eddie knew he couldn’t follow. Some days Eddie had to pinch himself to remember that his name was Evan Buckley, not just the frat boy nickname he picked to be called. And Christopher. He knew that something was wrong.
They had moved during such a turbulent time that Eddie knew that Chris felt the empty space that’s only coincidentally Buck-shaped. A good parent, would make sure Buck doesn’t stay forgotten in his son’s mind—or a figment of his imagination. A heartbroken man, however, will continue to live in the fantasy his son created where they never lost their other half.
It was too late to call. Or, to try and re-forge the bonds he already threw away.
He put his phone down, and tried to close his eyes. It’s better to just sleep away the pain before he could drown in it.
Forgotten Ekkos
Event: Angstpril 2025 by @chaos-company Day: 1—Forgotten Fandom: Arcane Ship: Ekko/Jinx | Timebomb Rating: T CW: Ambiguity regarding the aliveness of a character
He lit up the city for her, going so far as to cross wires into underground power supplies he absolutely shouldn’t have access to.
He painted on walls. Symbols highlighted by the transient stars. Arrows guiding her home. He wanted her to find her way back. Notes scattered like campaign leaflets that flooded the streets. Everywhere people walked, it was like a blanket of snow covering the ground. They needed to be reminded. Of the sacrifice. Who died so they could live. Who fought demons so they could continue to wake up another day.
He wrote her diary entries about his days. All the conversations he was going to have with her. All the welcome homes. She was going to know how needed she was. He kept her home clean. Every tool was organized. Every button dusted. He searched every nook, cranny and crevice for her. Foreign lands. On the home front. Up in the shiny world with the snobby people. He looked.
Ekko would illuminate the world searching for his Jinx.
He was gonna make damn sure, she will never be forgotten.
I'd like to say that I'm alive. But I can't. I feel more like a ghost as I walk through the halls, my touch barely changing anything as I go past. My voice only a whisper in the wind as I yell for help out of the repeating hell. Because to be alive, you just be doing something extraordinary. Otherwise, you become something of a shadow left to watch as everyone forgets about you.
I'd love to feel alive
Abandoned
Do u ever remember a good post and u start typing and then u forget what it was like the other day I was getting my......
Why can't I remember? Names, faces, people, events. They're gone. There's a feeling left. Like a hole where an uprooted tree stood. Pieces of pictures are all that's left. No emotion attached to them. Did they really happen? Were they all just dreams? Is this all just a nightmare I can't wake from?
Now who's going to love me for the scars you left behind??
So...we all just collectively forgot about Jess right???
Coffee cups and half read paper backs...
Coffee cups and half read paper backs…
Have you ever thought about how some conversations just exists in a certain time frame? Have you ever wondered how some laughs just stay in the coffee cup ? Have you ever realized that certain parts of a novel you started reading make you look back at your life?
The thing is that we often are so lost in the day to day ordeal of life that we stop enjoying the small parts of this enormous life…
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Do you know how it feels to hold your happiness in your hands and watch it swirl there in a pool of golden light before the night comes and snatches it away from your bleeding hands only to leave you wondering why it suddenly feels like your throat is burning when all you ever did was take a sip from your lover's lips ?
Forgotten
New Hampshire would be the next Ohio if it wasn't always forgotten.
Change my mind.
me : *opens google docs and rubs my hand* LETS DO THIS also me : *stares at the google docs , head empty*
And then my soul saw you and it kind of went, ‘Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.
Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You (via goodreadss)
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