!The author of this story may or may not have died of a brain tumor or in surgery we haven't gotten to the surgery yet we'll see!
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴!
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴?
𝘕𝘰...
A/n: this is a filler for something bigger that's taking me longer lmao haha 🥲
Allister POV FIRST PERSON (woo):
I sighed and pulled my car into the large empty parking lot. Florence had told me to head to a cornfield just to take pictures, I don't even have Instagram I only use Twitter. Sounded stupid to me.
I looked around at the vast arrays of corn, some rows cut and some not. It was pretty, I'll give Florence that.
Sighing dramatically for a second time, I pulled out my phone and beats (BEATS ARE BETTER THAN YOUR FUCKING AIRPODS ILL FIGHT YOU ON THIS.), opening Spotify and putting my Mitski/Cavetown playlist on shuffle. (Mmmm just ignore like the controversy with Cavetown please)
Class of 2013 played in my ears as a continued walking towards the center of this cornfield. I almost feel like there's gonna be a giant ass rock that once I put my hands on I just become obsessed with murder.
As they always do when I'm alone, my thoughts filled my head. I felt like the beautiful disturbing sound of Class of 2013 was a snake coiling around me, sending my thoughts into a whirlwind of what I'd pushed down in the past month.
Sure, I'd distracted myself with streaming everyday but no matter what I do, Washing Machine Heart just turned on, there's still anxiety.
Anxiety about wether I'll get enough viewers and donations I'll be able to pay for a refill of adhd meds.
Anxiety about wether or not people'll like my outfit today, if people will decide they like me today.
Stress about when I look at big streamers and have to suppress thoughts of asking why not me? Why don't I deserve that?
Because I am a relatively large streamer, sure people don't know me as well as if I said Tommyinnit or Tubbo or even Hannah, Hannah gets more viewers than me.
Not as well as if I said DreamSMP.
Allister POV THIRD PERSON:
There was a sweet abyss waiting for her thoughts to plunge into as soon as she deemed herself done with their shit.
In front of her the corn field opened into where it had been fully cut down. Small wildflowers bloomed between the rows of corn, opening upwards, searching longingly for the sun to give them their nutrients.
Allister thought she was a bit like those flowers too, constantly reaching towards money and fame, pulling silly faces and putting on acts just to hope to impress the people who give her money.
and that's all life has ever been for her, a constant game trying to impress people around her.
Sure, she had friends and she enjoyed entertainment but she didn't know what she was really looking for.
She didn't deem herself worthy of love, but fame was something she always wanted. But what happens when she achieves it? Or even, if she achieves it? She thought about this a lot.
What was life worth if she had everything she shot for? Keep getting loftier goals? Eventually she'll run out, because there is a limit to what she really wants.
But who cares, really? Sounds like a problem for future Allister. Down the thoughts go, into the abyss.
Allister pulled up Snapchat, cause filters. Filters are for people afraid of what they look like without them haha #lol.
She set her bag down and propped the phone up, getting a few shots of her running using the timer and a few of her sitting and laying, you know you know. She ended with two favorites that she posted to Twitter.
a/n: yes I made this filter strictly for these images cause Oraia updated their Pinterest <3
@ AstridGames Allister
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I would say I feel like you never see me smile but that would be a lie LMAOO LIKED BY: Tommyinnit, Hannahxxrose, and 31,003 others!
Allister smiled a bit, laughing at some fans' confusion. She switched over to listening to The Red Means I Love You, singing as the part that everyone knows came on.
She wasn't a good singer, not a bad one either. It wasn't even a hobby it's just "ok sing now" "ok", you know?
Allister spun around, enjoying the free feeling of being alone in a big corn field surrounded by woods except for where the road was. The sweet feeling of the England air whisking around her and catching on her clothes. She pulled her flannel on and started heading back to the car.
This was nice.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Allister pulled it out to check it, seeing a call from Florence. The girl picked up hastily.
