Real

hit me soft i’m hard or whatever it’s called

girlhood is rewatching obx s2, ep 10 for rafe cameron in red lighting and his slutty black button-up

six feet deep or whatever the song says😩😩

sobbing crying throwing up

WE HUG NOW 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

authors note: this song has been stuck in my head for weeks

warnings: angst, divorce/breakup

you never wanted the money.

not the cars. not the spotlight. not the gated houses or the sold-out arenas. you would’ve lived in a tiny apartment, eating cereal on the floor every night if it meant waking up next to her—billie, the way she was before everything got loud.

she used to fall asleep with her head on your chest, murmuring lyrics into your skin like secrets. used to light up when she saw you walk into a room, like the whole world paused just long enough for her to memorize you again.

but somewhere along the way, the world stopped slowing down.

and she stopped looking up.

you started counting the days between her phone calls. between the nights she came home. between the moments you still felt like hers. you told yourself it was temporary. that fame came with distance, and distance didn’t mean detachment. you told yourself she’d remember.

but then came the fight.

you were sitting in the nursery, holding your daughter while she clung to your arm, the weight of the world pressing down on your chest. billie paced in front of you, her voice sharp, accusing.

“do you love me,” she asked, “or just the life i gave you?”

you didn’t have words. it hit you like a slap in the face, and all the breath left your lungs. you would’ve given everything up for her.

but in that moment, you realized she didn’t believe you. maybe she never did.

so you let her go.

the divorce was quiet. clinical. the kind where nothing catches fire but everything still burns.

she left the house. she left the crib. she left one thing behind—a beat-up old phone, screen cracked, tucked beneath the baby blanket in the rocker.

a single voice memo, labeled:

halley’s comet. for her.

you sat in the dim light of the nursery that night, holding your daughter to your chest, listening to billie’s voice crackle through the speaker.

“hi, baby girl. this is your song. i’ll always love you, even when i’m not there.”

she sang like she was still trying to hold on. and you cried like you already knew she wouldn’t.

your daughter is four now.

she runs everywhere instead of walking. she’s all questions and scraped knees and big, open-hearted feelings. she asks about the stars when she can’t sleep, says she feels safest when you hold her.

she knows the song by heart. you’ve played it for her every night since she was born. she calls it her song, like it was written by the universe just for her. and maybe, in a way, it was.

you’re driving her home from preschool one afternoon, the air warm, the sun soft on your arm, and the radio starts playing a song that makes your heart skip.

it’s halley’s comet.

not the voice memo. the full version. studio-polished. stripped-down and haunting and beautiful. billie’s voice, older now, but still her. still yours, somehow.

from the backseat, your daughter perks up, her voice sharp with recognition.

“mama… my song.”

you grip the steering wheel, the pressure of her words making your chest tighten.

she’s staring out the window, her small hand pressed to her chest like she’s holding something fragile, something sacred. and it is.

you force a smile, blinking back the tightness in your throat. “yeah, baby,” you whisper. “that’s your song.”

a week later, your phone buzzes.

someone sends you a clip from billie’s latest interview—she’s on a late-night talk show, radiant, untouchable. the interviewer brings you up like a distant memory, something forgotten.

“so, you and y/n. what happened there?”

billie laughs easily, like it’s nothing. like it’s a joke.

“oh, that. yeah. we ended it on mutual terms. it’s all good now.”

mutual.

like you didn’t stay awake for months, waiting for her to come home, waiting for her to see you again. like you didn’t rock your daughter to sleep, night after night, with the sound of billie’s voice in the dark, your heart breaking quietly every time. like you didn’t love her with every piece of yourself. like you still don’t, a little.

you pause the video.

the house is quiet. the laundry hums softly in the next room. your daughter’s asleep upstairs, her tiny body curled around a stuffed bunny, the old phone still tucked under her pillow.

you sit there, the glow of the screen fading to black.

and you think—

god, she really believes it was nothing.

you’re just thinking it’s a small thing that happened.the world ended when it happened to me.

taglist: @amara-eilish @bilswifee @iamnicoke @jayjaywetforbils @eloiseluvsbillie @bxllxebxtch | send me an ask, or comment if you want to be added to my taglist!

hii lovey i love ur comments n ur acc

thank you babyyy💖💖

do you guys like my nails

what the hell is wrong with her shes insane.

like the moaning?? HELLO?????

i need my pussy ate💔💔

WHAT IS GOING ON WHY IS DAMON SALVATORE AT TARA YUMMYS HOUSE TF

guys what’s with all the beef on here lately can we keep it peaceful and not shady😭 like what’s going on