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pixiesfz · 4 months

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melbourne weather k.m x r

plot: you bring your girlfriend back down to your family for the holidays to enjoy a hot Christmas but the Melbourne weather seems to disappoint you.

warnings: fluff, shitty fucking Melbourne weather (I hate living here), Australian reader!, the format is kinda just like my Christmas day soooo (ik Katie didn't win poll but an anon messaged me and I love accepting my anons requests)

You stirred in your bed as you couldn't sleep Surprisingly the air was cold and you looked at your closed blinds with a squint to see if you could see if it was still dark outside or not.

Your girlfriend Katie however was knocked out like a light, you assumed it was because out of all the games she had she hardly came off recently, she was tired so you convinced your mother last night to open morning presents around 10 instead of 9 to let her sleep in.

It felt like a normal night in North London which you hated, usually on December 24th in Australia you would toss and turn in your bed because you were too hot under your blanket but too cold when you weren't under it.

You promised Katie a hot Australian Christmas.

But you did live in Melbourne where it didn't matter what season you were in, everyday would be different.

You sat up to check behind the blinds in curiosity but Katie must have noticed the weight change in the bed and grabbed out to you "Come back to sleep" she mumbled into her pillow "weather will change" she mumbled again as she remembered all the changes in weather during the world cup that Australia and New Zealand had hosted.

You nodded your head as fatigue came over you and lowered back down to which you snuggled into Katie who pulled you even closer "I love you" she whispered into your ear as you smiled "I love you too".

When 10 eventually came your father was quick to blast music to wake you, Katie and your siblings up.

When Mariah Careys 'all I want for Christmas' seemed to get louder and louder as your dad came up the stairs you grabbed a pillow nearby and grabbed it, ready to throw it at him but Katie laughed and pulled the pillow down "let's get up c'mon"

You all opened your presents downstairs as your mum took pictures left right and center but your thoughts were stuck to the windows outside as the clouds grew grey and there was no sun in sight.

You watched Katie open your last gift to her as she revealed a locket necklace, she smiled at you in amazement, it was the same colour as her claddagh ring so it would match "Open it" you encouraged.

When she did you smiled brighter, it was a picture of you two from when you first met and on the other side was her family.

"When you're on camp and you miss me and when you're in London and you miss your family" you explained and Katie brought you into a hug.

"I love it" she assured you and pecked your lips.

Then you all got ready for the rest of your family to come over as Katie set the table with your mum.

"You make her really happy," your mum told Katie who was concentrating on making sure the forks and knives were equally close to each other "She makes me very happy" Katie smiled at your mum before a comfortable silence followed.

"I don't want to intrude but I saw the ring" your mum admitted to Katie as she popped her head up "I was going to get permission from you guys first I promise-" "Katie" your mother assured her, "I think we gave our blessing when she first brought you home to meet us" she laughed and Katie felt her heart grow.

Your mum looked out the window "she's going to hate this weather, she wanted you to experience a hot Christmas day, all she talked about when she told me she was coming home for the holidays"

Katie looked down as she heard footsteps come down the stairs, it was you. You wore a long white linen dress your mother had bought for you and you wore your birken stock shoes that Katie liked to call 'Jesus shoes' but she looked at you in admiration.

"Katie you better start getting ready" you told her as you looked at the time "you look beautiful in white" your mum told you as she walked by and gave a wink to Katie who was still looking at you.

You walked down the stairs and grazed your hand over the locket she now wore. "I knew the colour would match you well" you smiled, proud of yourself.

But you frowned now that rain had started to fall "I'm sorry" you said as Katie furrowed her brows "For what baby?" she asked and you shook your head "I wanted you to experience the hot sun that Australia had to offer on a Christmas day but apparently it decided to give us shit weather" you pouted as you looked out "It doesn't matter" Katie said as you turned to her "of course it matters" you said

"We have many more years we can experience it," she said and you blushed "Many more?" you asked and Katie nodded "Of course, I don't plan on leaving do you?" she asked with a smirk "Never" you smirked back before you heard your dog barking as a car arrived "okay now you really have to get dressed" you stressed before pushing her up stairs to your childhood bedroom where you two were staying.

As more family members arrived and Katie got dressed into her own outfit you all laughed at memories being thrown around and you cringed when Katie shared a story of you accidentally cheering when the other team scored a goal so you got her back by counting how many yellow cards she had received in the past season.

The day past as your auntie and uncles and cousins bought you gifts such as plates and glasses for your home in London "not sure how we're going to get these on a plane but cheers guys I love you all" you smiled as they laughed but Katie whispered in your ear "seriously how are we going to get these over to London".

You had all changed into comfortable clothes as Katie nudged you "wanna go on a walk to see Christmas lights?" she asked and you looked outside "It's still raining" you complained and your father scoffed from the couch "toughen up y/n" (my dad would do this)

Katie pointed at your father agreeing with him before you nodded your head again "Okay let's go" you smiled before grabbing an umbrella and saying goodbye to your family.

On your walk you noticed Katie looking nervous so you grabbed her hand into yours "You okay?" you asked and she nodded. There wasn't many people looking at Christmas lights as many people were still out with families but there were 1 or 2 families nearby "Yeah I'm okay" she reassured you but it was clear you weren't convinced.

"Katie" you said as she turned to you "I wasn't lying when I said we have many years to experience this" she said seriously as you smiled "I know" you said with a smile but Katie was still serious "Katie what's going on?" you asked

Katie looked like she was fighting a battle in her head before she put her hand in her pocket, you tried not to think straight to a proposal as you had thought that many times in the past year so you closed your eyes in fear "Why are you closing your eyes?" Katie questioned as you kept them shut "Cause I'm scared" you admitted as you heard her laugh "open them love" she said and you slowly opened them to reveal Katie on one knee with a ring box opened in her hand that held a beautiful silver ring that the Christmas lights shined on.

A gasp slid of your tongue as your hands went to your face "don't act to shocked you knew it was gonna happen sooner or later" Katie smiled "I want to be with you for every holiday, no matter what weather y/n" she said as you lowered to your knees to be level with her.

"even shitty melbourne weather?" you asked

"especially in shitty melbourne weather" she smiled

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royalwilmon · 14 days

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this is a prequel of sorts to always on the tip of my tongue! a glimpse into wille and simon's very first taco tuesday. eventually (like, after all of tomt is published, so basically never) this will be one part in a series of mikael pov insights into wilmon's relationship, but i wanted to share this for now! enjoy!! <333

if he likes you, he'll smile

Mikael had been working at Geronimo’s for nearly two months the day that he met Wille and Simon.

He didn’t even think he’d be in the job that long. He had just been laid off from another corporate bullshit position and had been enjoying a proper midlife crisis when another eviction notice forced him to resort to bartending again. Geronimo’s FGT was decidedly not his kind of place. He hated how touristy the area was, hated the shitty bands the owners constantly had in for live entertainment, and more than anything, hated how monotonous the job started feeling just after a couple of weeks.

He wanted to quit. He was seriously considering giving his notice. He nearly did several times, but for whatever reason, he kept hesitating. It was good that he had a job for now, but he was already restless. Something was missing. Mikael didn’t know what he would do or where to go next, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was invisible here. Mikael couldn’t even remember the last time he had an honest-to-God conversation with someone. In this town, the idea of him disappearing forever without a soul noticing he was gone was more reality than fear.

And then, one day, on a Tuesday in autumn just like any other Tuesday, Crown Prince Wilhelm sat at the bar right before him.

Mikael didn’t give a shit about the royal family. He was surprised he even recognized him. He probably only did because Wilhelm was around the same age as Sanna, his daughter. Mikael remembered the headlines when Erik passed away. It was right after Mikael got into that last big argument with Nea before she packed everything they owned, left, and took Sanna with her. He remembered watching the videos of Erik’s funeral on the news, seeing pictures and closeups of Wilhelm, and just thinking about how young he looked.

He still looked young now. His hair was shorter, his face more angular, and he didn’t look sad like he always did when he was on the news. Quite the opposite, really. He had another person with him tonight, a shorter boy who looked even younger, whose smile seemed so bright and genuine that Mikael almost felt blinded by it. As the two boys slid into their respective barstools, bright laughter filled the room, and Mikael thought that today would be different. He didn’t know how, and he didn’t know if the change he felt was necessarily a good one, but it was different.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to address the prince in any sort of particular way. For a moment, he thought maybe the prince was trying to be discreet, and he shouldn’t address him at all, but the pair of security staff who followed the duo inside and positioned themselves nearby made it clear that Crown Prince Wilhelm was here. Plus, people around the restaurant noticed him and started staring. All eyes Mikael could see were on Wilhelm.

If the attention bothered Wilhelm and the boy sitting beside him, they didn’t let it show. Mikael couldn’t imagine that it didn’t. He felt awful for the kids. As the stares turned into whispers turned into audible speculation, Mikael felt the urge to yell at everyone to shut the fuck up and leave them alone. But if he was going to quit this job, he at least wanted to do so on good terms so he could still have references. He did not need to have to explain the fact that he was fired because he lost his temper in front of a prince to his next employers.

Realizing that he was staring, too, and was maybe now part of the problem, Mikael cleared his throat, leaning forward on the bar and raising his voice so Wilhelm and his friend could hear him.

“Can I get you boys something to drink?” Mikael asked, trying his best to sound casual and uninterested.

“What do you have with tequila?” Wilhelm asked. His voice was teasing, his smile playful. Mikael was caught off-guard. He hadn’t spent any amount of time thinking about what the Crown Prince might be like, but this young, smiling boy was nothing like what he might have expected.

Mikael didn’t say anything, just narrowed his eyes a little. He picked up a drink menu and placed it down in front of Wilhelm, dragging his finger around the portion of the menu that listed their cocktails and detailed which tequilas they had on the shelf.

Mikael watched Wilhelm’s smile twist into an amused smirk before he looked down at where Mikael was pointing.

“Mmm, I’ll take a ginger beer, please,” Wilhelm’s friend said, reading the drink menu over Wilhelm’s shoulder. Mikael nodded and reached under the bar, opening the cooler and pulling out a glass bottle. He placed it in front of the boy, who smiled at him brightly and thanked him. Exceedingly polite.

Mikael took a moment to size up the prince’s companion. He certainly didn’t seem royal or even royal adjacent. He looked astoundingly normal. While Wilhelm was outfitted stylishly and professionally in a collared shirt and smart sweater, the other boy came simply dressed in jeans and an old hoodie with the drawstring missing. The two boys looked like they came from two different worlds, but at the same time, there was a sort of familiarity and ease between them that felt… right.

“How spicy is the spicy margarita?” Wilhelm asked, looking up at Mikael with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that Mikael didn’t quite know what to do with.

“No. No, Wille,” the boy cut in before Mikael could even open his mouth to answer. “You can’t keep pretending you like spicy things. You’ll take two sips, spend the rest of dinner complaining about it, and end up wasting the entire drink.”

“You don’t know that,” Wilhelm grumbled, pouting dramatically as he looked back down at the menu.

Mikael had to bite back a chuckle. It was amusing how comfortable the boys seemed with each other. The boy called the prince Wille and teased him knowingly. It was strange, seeing someone so famous casually sat in front of him, so strikingly human. Mikael felt drawn to the prince and his friend, almost like he was a part of their world. Or, maybe stranger, that they were a part of his.

“I’ll order the House Margarita if you can tell me what’s in Geronimo’s Secret Margarita Mix,” Wilhelm said, looking at Mikael with that same playful smile that continued to catch him off guard.

“It’s written in the employee handbook that if we tell someone, we have to kill them,” Mikael said, without thinking. He had a moment of doubt when he thought that maybe threatening violence against a prince might not be the smartest move, but at Wilhelm’s widening smile, he continued. “It also explicitly states that we do not grant exceptions regardless of rank. The only way one can learn the secret of the Margarita Mix is if they have concerns about allergens.”

Wilhelm’s friend laughed at that, beaming at Mikael with a thousand-watt smile.

“Oh, I like you already,” he said. The boy looked at Mikael closer now, considering him in the same careful way Mikael had just done with him. After so much thought about how working in this part of Stockholm made him seem invisible, in this moment, he felt almost unnervingly seen. “I’m Simon. Best friend of Wille. Official title. What’s your name?”

Still apprehensive, Mikael just pointed to his chest, where a nametag was pinned to his apron.

“Mikael,” Wilhelm read, grinning wide.

“Good, he can read,” Mikael muttered to himself before he had a second to think better of it.

His gaze flickered over to Simon, who looked like a kid at a candy store. Clearly, he was delighted that Mikael was instantly willing to poke fun at Wilhelm. Mikael didn’t know why he was chasing the approval of this… kid. Especially at the expense of the actual Crown Prince of their country. It was something to do with Simon’s smile, Mikael thought. It felt familiar. It reminded him of Sanna.

Mikael knew his face fell at that realization. He also knew that Simon had caught it, and Mikael watched as his smile faltered, but only for a fraction of a second.

“Literacy is one of his better qualities,” Simon said to Mikael, glancing over at Wilhelm with a fond roll of his eyes.

“It’s ‘Gang Up on Wille’ day, huh?” Wilhelm muttered, looking up briefly to glare at Simon. Simon just laughed lightly, looking down at the food menu the hostess had given them when they first sat down.

Someone in Mikael’s position would have to be blind not to notice the rush of pink on Simon’s cheeks. Mikael remembered what it was like to be that age, no older than nineteen or twenty if Mikael had to guess. He recognized Simon’s exact blush from his early memories of Nea.

Mikael wasn’t ready to make any assumptions, but he was briefly curious. He thought he would have heard something if the prince was gay. Or bisexual or whatever, Mikael didn’t know. Then again, maybe they were trying to be discreet. But, Mikael thought, there were definitely places more discreet than a busy restaurant in the middle of Gamla stan, just minutes away from the royal palace.

So, they were probably best friends. Still, Mikael noticed the way Simon looked at Wilhelm, like he had just hung the moon. It wasn’t nothing.

None of his business, though.

“I’ll have the House Margarita. Salted rim, please. For now, you can keep your secrets,” Wilhelm said, smiling at Mikael again. “But next time, I’ll find a way to get you to tell me while also sparing my precious life.”

“Precious,” Mikael scoffed, causing Simon to let out another breath of laughter.

Mikael opened his mouth to ask to see Wilhelm’s ID before he stopped short. Do members of the royal family even carry identification? Mikael knew Wilhelm was over eighteen, but he was still legally required to ask. Unless there was an exception for princes? He didn’t think there would be, but he also had no reason to know. Would Wilhelm get mad at him for asking? He couldn’t help but glance over to the security guards, who, admittedly, looked terrifying.

Mikael thought back to how he wanted to quit this job before they fired him. He did not want to have to tell the story of how he was fired for not carding the Crown Prince.

“Can I see your ID?” Mikael asked, keeping his expression as neutral as possible.

Wilhelm looked surprised for a moment, but he instantly reached into his pocket to remove his wallet and his ID, which, apparently, he did carry with him. That was good to know.

“I’ve never seen you get carded before,” Simon said to Wilhelm, beaming ear to ear. “This is the best day of my life. I hope the food is good, Wille. This might finally be our place. It feels right.”

Mikael glanced down at Wilhelm’s ID (which was weird, so extremely weird. Wilhelm had so many names and probably the nicest picture Mikael had ever seen on an ID) before handing it back to him wordlessly.

Mikael set to work making Wilhelm’s drink, thinking that their interaction was over for now, but Simon spoke up again, surprising him.

“So, Mikael,” Simon said, his voice curious and friendly. “Have you always lived in Stockholm?”

The answer to the question was no, but Mikael was a very private guy. He didn’t want strangers asking him personal questions. It was none of their business. Especially not the prince’s.

Mikael finished pouring the last of the ingredients into his cocktail shaker before answering Simon’s question with a frown and a shrug. It wasn’t a yes or a no—it was just an acknowledgment. Simon seemed to take the hint, and he just smiled at him with a nod. Understanding, gracious, unnervingly kind.

Simon and Wilhelm were quiet while Mikael finished making the drink. They looked around, admiring the space. For all of its faults, Geronimo’s FGT was fun. Decked out in colorful textiles, weird bird taxidermy, and neon cacti, the place felt like a fever dream interpretation of the American Southwest. Mikael did love it, and so, as it would seem, did Simon and Wilhelm, who each wore small, pleased smiles on their faces as they took in the atmosphere of Geronimo’s.

Giving the margarita a few good shakes, Mikael poured it into a mason jar with a salted rim and slid the drink over to Wilhelm, who thanked him profusely and wasted no time downing half the drink with one prolonged sip.

“Nectar of the gods…” Wilhelm mused, putting the jar down with a satisfied sigh. Mikael still didn’t know quite what to make of Wilhelm, but he thought that he liked him. Or, at least, he was pleased that the prince seemed to approve of his bartending skills.

“Anything to eat?” Mikael asked, using both his hands to point at the pair of menus in front of Wilhelm and Simon.

“It’s Tuesday, so definitely tacos,” Wilhelm said, with so much enthusiasm.

“Which tacos would you recommend?” Simon asked, looking up from his menu to Mikael.

“They’re all fucking great,” Mikael said, truthfully. Since starting here, Mikael had tried and enjoyed pretty much the entire menu. “Birria are good. Fish, too.”

Mikael watched Simon and Wilhelm exchange a look, wordlessly communicating before Simon nodded and grinned, turning back to Mikael.

“Perfect, we’ll try those,” Simon said, before glancing back at Wilhelm. “And we’ll split them so we can both try both.”

“And queso, too. Please. As much as you’re willing to give us,” Wilhelm added, before doing something weird with his eyes. Mikael thought Wilhelm might have been trying to wink, but he wasn’t sure. He might just have something really wrong with his vision.

Mikael left to put in their food orders, and then, a little reluctantly, went back to work. As much as his curiosity made him want to linger by Wilhelm and Simon, there were other patrons sitting at his bar, and more drink orders coming in for him to work on. Even if he had literal royalty at his bar, Mikael couldn’t afford to give them all of his attention. He was cutting his rent a little too close as is.

While Mikael was able to busy himself with the Taco Tuesday crowd, he did occasionally try to listen in to Simon and Wilhelm’s conversation, just to get a better idea as to what their deal was. He wanted to know why they were here, of all places.

It sounded like they were catching up on the past week or so of their lives. Simon must have been a student, probably here in Stockholm, as he spent most of his meal talking animatedly to Wilhelm about various classes and professors. Wilhelm was listening intently, nodding along and peppering in questions and comments throughout.

Mikael realized that their appearance at Geronimo’s was really quite simple. Wilhelm and Simon were two friends, meeting for dinner to catch up on each other’s lives. There was nothing fancy, no royal banquets or expensive wines or anything. Just two friends sat at a bar, eating tacos and talking about their day.

It was… endearing.

When it was getting late, and their plates were all but licked clean, Mikael approached Wilhelm and Simon again, leaning against the bar opposite them. He offered them a sort of smile, a slight purse of his lips that was just about as friendly as his face could get.

“Good?”

“Fucking great,” Wilhelm grinned, repeating Mikael’s praise from earlier.

Giving the boys a satisfied nod, Mikael placed the bill between Simon and Wilhelm. Simon let out a loud bark of laughter before pushing the bill directly to Wilhelm.

“Why do I always get stuck paying?” Wilhelm said, teasingly. Still, he didn’t hesitate to immediately take out his wallet and hand Mikael a card, smiling politely all the while.

“Wilhelm, do not get me started today. You are already on such thin ice,” Simon said, his voice surprisingly serious. Simon must have had plenty of thoughts on the excessive amount of cash Wilhelm surely had at his disposal. It was surprising—in a good way, Mikael thought. Wilhelm seemed to have a friend with a good head on his shoulders. Polite, engaging, and willing to challenge him.

Mikael really, really liked this Simon kid.

He also really, really missed Sanna.

Mikael ran Wilhelm’s card and returned it to him. Wilhelm pocketed his wallet, thanked Mikael again, and then started to get up.

“You’ll be working next week, right Mikael?” Simon asked as he stood. Mikael was surprised at the question and didn’t answer right away. He just stared at Simon for a prolonged moment, raising an eyebrow. “Next Taco Tuesday. We’ll see you here again. Next week?”

Mikael shrugged and smiled a little. He supposed he would stick around until next week, at least, if that meant seeing Wilhelm and Simon again. He was still curious about them. He wanted to listen to them more and try to understand them better.

“Next week, then,” Wilhelm smiled. He crinkled his eyes in that weird and awkward way again—probably a wink. Then, with a final wave, they left Geronimo’s, security detail in tow.

Suddenly, Mikael’s monotonous job felt like the most interesting place in the entire country. Maybe Mikael would quit next week.

But for now, he’d stay. Make a couple of margaritas. Eat a few more tacos. Have a fucking good time.

#ally writes #tomt #i wasnt sure if i was gonna publish this anywhere but it turns out im too proud of it to gatekeep #oops #also me naming this after another jimmy song??? classic me #ok bye

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the-sunflower-room · 2 years

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Four Eyes

Steve Harrington x Reader fluff

A/N: bc i saw a headcannon that steve has shitty vision in his left eye from all the fights he’s been in and i can’t stop thinking about him being completely adorably embarrassed about getting glasses. that’s it that’s the fic

Warnings: none, just tooth rotting fluff for my fellow steve enthusiasts, extremely soft and lovestruck! steve. slight angst if you squint with insecure steve. no S4 spoilers except for the fact he works at family video and robin can’t drive lol

Additional Note: she/her pronouns used for reader

Steve Harrington would never admit he had a vision problem.

He prided himself in having the best of pretty much everything; perfectly manicured hair, wildly charming personality, swoon-worthy chest hair. But after getting the shit beat out of him three years in a row, he had come to terms with the fact that his eyesight in his left eye was maybe, just maybe, less than perfect. One too many black eyes, he supposed.

Steve’s parents had unfortunately also noticed his worsening vision. His mother, ever the worrier, had been the one to force him to the optometrist, despite his countless protests. In less than a day he had been prescribed—no—sentenced to a new pair of glasses to fix his blurred eyesight. Before he could even process the life altering decision being made for him, the design of the lenses had been picked, the bill had been paid, and Steve found himself driving home with a note to pick up the glasses in a few days.

Damn.

Maybe it was because he still held himself to unrealistic standards from his “King Steve” days, but Steve couldn’t even begin to picture himself wearing those dorky little frames to help his terrible eyesight. Robin and the kids would have a field day once they saw him wearing the glasses, and what would Y/N say? Would she like them, or would she be embarrassed by them? Would she be less attracted to him?

He knew his insecurities were stupid. Y/N was one of the kindest people he knew, and any teasing would be in good fun. Still, it was hard to ignore just how anxious the eyewear made him. It was a cruel reminder that yes, he did get his ass kicked that many times, and no, he wasn’t strong enough to win a fight and protect himself. His failings had led to real physical damage to his senses, and that terrified him.

The time to pick up his newly prescribed glasses arrived faster than Steve would’ve liked. During the first week of owning them, he barely touched the black case sitting on his nightstand. The small box constantly reminded him of his embarrassingly long history of lost fights and bloody faces. It took his mother’s constant reminders and an outburst from his father about wasting money for him to finally start wearing the frames out in public. And in some terrible twist of irony, he found that they were actually helpful.

Labels were easier to read at the grocery store, VHS tapes were easier to identify at work, and the fine print on the Family Video computer system wasn’t so unintelligible anymore. It was an entirely different perspective that offered Steve reassurance and some much-needed clarity. He had started to think that maybe, if he could let go of his bias against glasses and people who wore them, they could change his life for the better.

That was before resident dumbasses Robin and Dustin caught sight of him in his new eyewear.

A few days after Steve had begun regularly wearing his glasses to work, Robin bustled into the store five minutes late to her shift and nearly lost her balance when she looked up and met the eyes of her big-haired coworker. “What…the hell…are you wearing?” she asked very slowly, mouth agape and eyes wide in disbelief. Steve just rolled his eyes. “One too many punches to the face will screw up your eyesight, I guess,” he shrugged, trying to play it off like it wasn’t a completely strange look for him. “Parents were on my ass about wearing them, so I figured I might as well.”

Robin stared at his face for an uncomfortably long minute before bursting out laughing. “Oh my god, you’re serious! The Steve Harrington, wearing glasses? You’ve completed your transition to full on dork,” she wheezed, clutching her gut and slamming her fist on the counter in an extremely dramatic fashion. “Holy shit, this is golden!” Steve stared at her as she shook with laughter, an unamused express on his face. “Haha, hilarious. Laughing at a poor man’s failing eyesight. Very cool, Buckley.”

After gasping for breath and taking a moment to compose herself, Robin wiped a stray tear trailing down her cheek, walked around the counter, and clapped a hand on Steve’s back. “I’m just pulling your leg, pretty boy. You look very cute with your spectacles. And I’m sure your lady will love them,” she said with a mischievous grin and a wiggle of her eyebrows, as if she were implying Y/N might have some sort of glasses kink. Gross.

Shoving her hand away, Steve allowed himself a small laugh. “You’re disgusting, you know that? Go do your job, pervert.” Still giggling, Robin turned away to grab her work vest and and gave a small salute once she had dawned the dully colored uniform. “Sir yes sir. You know I live and breathe to sell movies, and I promise your extremely sexy glasses will definitely not distract me from a hard day’s work of pleasing customers with our discounts and shitty movie candy.” Rolling his eyes once more and relenting with a small grin, Steve returned his focus to the riveting task of sorting through returned tapes.

Although she had made him feel slightly better with her lighthearted teasing and jokes, Steve was still worried that he looked too different from his usual self. Too…un-Steve-like. But Robin seemed to get used to them fairly quickly as the two continued working, only making the occasional comment about how he was bound to become the employee of the month now that he had his new “super serious employee” glasses. Beyond that, she seemed completely unbothered by his appearance and went about her day as usual, making the typical complaints about annoying customers and shitty pay.

Maybe they really aren’t that big of a deal, he thought to himself as he locked up the store for the night, ready to head home after a painfully long shift.

Just as he parted ways with Robin and started to mumble the usual “see you tomorrow” as she made her way towards her awaiting ride, she beat him to it with her own parting words. “Drive safe, dingus! And seriously, I do like the glasses. They’re cute. And I know Y/N will like them too,” she smiled, giving him a slightly awkward wave before sliding into the passenger seat of the running car and slamming the door behind her.

Steve found himself momentarily dumbfounded by Robin’s genuine encouragement. It was hard to remember that underneath all that sarcasm and dry humor, Robin was actually an incredibly kind and trustworthy friend. After years of hanging out with stuck-up and self absorbed assholes, she was a nice change of pace. As the car pulled away, Steve mouthed a sincere “thank you” and retuned her wave.

I was worried about nothing, he thought to himself as he started his car and pulled out of the dimly lit Family Video parking lot, headed home with a new sense of confidence. Robin’s way cooler about them than I thought she’d be.

Everything is gonna be fine.

At least, that’s what he told himself up until Henderson finally decided to pay the store a visit.

He had shown up in the hopes of securing a ride to the arcade from Steve after his shift, but since the older teen was unloading new movie shipments in the back and Robin had greeted him at the counter, Dustin had yet to realize anything was different about Steve.

“So anyways, I told Suzie that she has to watch Return of the Jedi because it’s essential to understanding Star Wars lore up to this point. But her dad’s a super strict asshole who thinks it’s a sin to indulge in fine cinema apparently, and I need her to watch it so she can be caught up when we-” Dustin halted his story about his long-distance girlfriend (much to the relief of an uninterested Robin) when Steve finally walked out from the back room of the store.

Much like Robin when she had first seen the glasses, Dustin stared in uncomfortable silence as Steve just stood there, awaiting some sort of reaction. “…Oh my god,” the young teen finally squeaked, hand moving up to his mouth to stifle an obnoxious laugh. Steve heaved a heavy sigh, preparing himself for what was soon to follow. “Holy shit! And I didn’t think you could get any cooler,” Dustin laughed, obvious sarcasm in his tone. “I had no idea you were secretly some kind of Einstein this whole time.”

Unlike Robin who had quickly gotten used to the glasses, Dustin didn’t hesitate to annoy the shit out of Steve every chance he got. The jokes continued for days on end, and Dustin seemed to visit the store much more frequently just for the chance to torture his older friend. “I’m just saying dude, I think I’m gonna have to start calling you four eyes. It’s just the rules,” Dustin shrugged matter-of-factly one afternoon, poised directly on top of the counter and swinging his legs as Steve uselessly attempted to work around him.

He was getting extremely tired of Henderson visiting the store for the sole purpose of making him miserable. Finally, after yet another unnecessary joke, Steve snapped. “Listen dickhead, I didn’t ask for these, okay? My parents made me get them because my vision was total shit, and you’re just gonna have to get used to them,” he huffed, slamming down a stack of tapes next to Dustin on the counter and giving him a sharp glare. With a poorly concealed grin, Dustin nodded in feigned understanding. “Whatever you say, mom…”

Steve’s confidence had taken yet another hit. He found himself feeling the same as he did the day he first came home with the glasses, worried and anxious about how people would feel about his new look. He knew that it was just the nature of his relationship with Dustin to constantly tease one another about anything and everything, and it was mostly in good fun, even if Dustin didn’t always know when to stop. But their recent interactions had also made him uneasy and even more worried about his girlfriend’s potential reaction.

Hopefully she won’t think I’m a total dork.

It was a slow Thursday afternoon at Family Video when Y/N had finally found the time to visit and beg her boyfriend to show her the glasses. “Cmon, Stevie, Robin told me all about how cute you look. I wanna see!” She playfully jabbed her finger at him from across the counter, giving him that adorable grin that was so hard to say no to. Still, the nagging worry made him hesitate.

“Just…don’t make a big deal about them, alright? Robin and Henderson have already given me a bunch of shit and I really can’t take the jokes from you too,” Steve grimaced, anxiously shifting the small case between his hands. Nodding quickly, Y/N’s eyes trailed down to the case and back up to Steve with a look of anticipation. Here goes nothing, he thought to himself, removing the glasses from the case and sliding them on.

Cringing as if bracing for impact, Steve waited with bated breath for her to react. What he didn’t expect was her beaming smile of surprise. “Oh my god, they look so good! They frame your face so well,” she observed, placing her hands on either side of his face and tilting his head slightly as if admiring every angle of him in the glasses. Steve felt slightly baffled. “Sooo…you like them? Not too weird or different?” He questioned slowly, unsure of how she could be so casual about something that had felt so life-changing.

“Of course they’re not too weird or different. You look amazing as always, and if I had to guess I’d say you secretly like being able to see better,” she chuckled, giving the bridge of his glasses a teasing tap. As usual, Y/N was correct. Steve definitely did enjoy the newfound clarity in his day to day life, but now that he was in her company, he found himself most grateful for being able to fully appreciate her beauty in all the little ways he hadn’t been able to before.

The wrinkle of her nose when she laughed. The color of her lips, always perfectly soft and kissable. The adorable gleam in her eye when she smiled at him. Every wonderful curve of her body. Now, more than ever before, he found himself appreciating her endless beauty. It was suddenly as if a weight had been lifted off his chest, and it was in that moment in her presence that he realized the glasses were never really an inconvenience, but a blessing. They helped remind him that in every possible way, he was a lucky man dating someone like Y/N L/N.

All it took was a few literal slaps to the face and a new pair of eyewear.

“Thank you,” Steve whispered sincerely, trying to convey just how much he appreciated her support for him. “I guess I was worried they might change how you feel about me, or make you, I don’t know, less attracted to me, or something. Not that Henderson’s lame jokes have actually been messing with me, but, y’know. You get called four eyes enough times and it starts to get to you. I realize it sounds kinda stupid now that I say it out loud…” he laughed half-heartedly, slightly embarrassed by his confession. Y/N just shook her head and smiled in understanding, gently taking his hands into her own.

“You have nothing to worry about, Stevie. A stupid pair of glasses isn’t gonna make me think any less of you. I’ll always love you, no matter what you wear. Plus, I really do think you look cute in them. Even hot,” she giggled coyly, a light blush dusting her face at the somewhat bold declaration. Steve’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before his face broke out into huge a grin. “Oh yeah. Nothing says raw sex appeal like a pair of glasses,” he laughed, the carefree sound filling the near empty video store. She returned his laugh easily.

All of Steve’s worries seemed to melt away after sharing a single conversation with Y/N. He sometimes forgot just how much she had changed his life for the better and how much she understood him.

She was the one who had stayed by his side after all the bloody fights and beat up faces, patching him up and comforting him whenever he was hurt. She was the one to hold him in the dead of the night and lull him back to sleep when nightmares of the upside-down plagued his dreams, shushing his cries of terror and promising him he was safe. She had been the one to assure him he was still her same, wonderful Steve, despite all his scars, bruises, and insecurities. She was somehow never phased by all his flaws or his unfortunate habit of finding trouble.

After all they’d been through together, Steve felt stupid for thinking she might think less of him or leave him over a simple pair of glasses.

Overwhelmed by his complete and total love for her, Steve suddenly cupped Y/N’s face in his hand and leaned across the counter, placing a soft kiss to her lips. Responding almost immediately, Y/N moved her hands into his hair and tangled her fingers in his soft locks, pulling him impossibly closer. Steve never seemed to tire of the feeling of her fingers in his hair. They seemed to silently communicate through the intimate gesture, an unspoken thank you for loving me so effortlessly and firm response of of course, I always will.

Y/N was eventually the first to break away, pausing for breath and attempting one last innocent jab at her boyfriend. “But I do still get to call you four eyes sometimes, right? You gotta admit Henderson was onto something.” Shaking his head, Steve just grinned and pulled her back in for another kiss.

“Shut up.”

-end-

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x reader fluff #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #fluff #steve harrington x reader season 4 #robin buckley #robin stranger things #dustin henderson #scoops ahoy #scoops troop #scoops troop fanfiction #stranger things season 4 #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington hc #Steve Harrington x fem!reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months

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AITA for snapping at my (18f) friend (19f) and then not talking to her again?

In middle school I met this girl who was in the same grade as me. We met because we were both friends with the same person, and slowly became friends as well. I wouldn't have called her my best friend though, she was just one of the people I hung out with at school (one of the few people, I struggled with having friends back then)

Flash forward to high school. The mutual friend moves away and just leaves us two. We're also in some of the same classes together, namely a digital media class we were in all four years of hs (we even sat beside each other all four years)

And well. her company was nice, but I wouldn't have called her a close friend. I never really told her many secrets, but I would be there for her in emotional support over her family being pretty shitty to her over and over again.

During our last two years, we both worked on the school yearbook (which was what you did in the last two years of that digital media class). I thought it was very enjoyable to work on it, and was extremely proud of the first one we produced, especially because the staff complimented it.

The second year (our senior year), however, was a little different. My friend started missing a lot of school because she was having stomach issues, and when she was at school she either spent more time roleplaying with her long-distance boyfriend (technically fiancé??? I didn't really understand their relationship, I was honestly very weary over it) over discord or half-assing the work she was supposed to be doing. In the end, she kinda stopped showing up to school, and I ended up taking over all the pages she meant to be doing, and changing the ones she did do because we changed up the scheming and her work was now very out of place.

Anyways, I'm wrapping up my senior year and the yearbook staff (which was me, two other students, my friend, and the digital media teacher) took a staff picture for the end of the yearbook. As usual, the friend isn't there. When we put the photo in and write down the yearbook credits, I ask my teacher if we should put the friend's name down since she was technically part of the group, and the teacher reveals to me that since she missed so many days she ended up being removed from the digital media class, which meant she wasn't on the yearbook staff anymore. I felt that was a bit of a rude move, but I also understood, so I left that decision alone.

Yearbooks then come out, and it took a while, but I guess my friend finally got her copy somehow, because she suddenly texts me in a fit of anger about not being in the yearbook staff section. She accuses me of not talking to my teacher about it (even tho I did) and going off on me about how I should have stuck up for her. She said a lot of other things too, but I long since deleted her contact, so I don't exactly remember.

What I do remember tho, was that I was pissed at her for making an assumption like that. I was also stressed as hell because at the time, my grandfather had just gotten diagnosed with lung cancer. The same cancer that killed my grandmother, his wife, when I was young. I remember that I replied to her telling that unlike her assumption, I tried to stick up for her, but I had to do what the teacher said. (She had been removed from the class anyways!) I also remember that I told her about my grandfather and being stressed about it, and that "now is not the time to do this". I wanted us to talk more about it later, after she calmed down and I got my head on straight.

It was the first time I snapped at her. She never replied to me. Eventually, I just decided to move on and deleted her contact. If she wants to get back in touch, she'll be able to. I know I probably should've checked in on her at some point, especially with her rocky home life, but I was honestly getting sick of her. Sure, we were there for each other emotionally, but I was starting to feel like all I was there for was to help her with her schoolwork and listen to her vent 24/7, which was slowly starting to make me more and more stressed.

It's been a little over a year since that happened, and I still hope she's doing alright and was able to move out at the very least. I was wondering if me snapping and choosing not to check in was an asshole move, considering the context.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

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When she's done, she feels so much lighter. All these dark thoughts were weighing on her and now, it was out and it felt good. But a new sort of apprehension appeared as she waited for Joel's answer. It was important at this moment that he said the right words, any clumsy comment and he’d completely shatter his and your relationship with Ellie.

He did his best to comfort her, remind her she was your kid—blood or not— and although it was normal and valid to feel that way, your love for her would never weaken. He’d probably finish with a humorous touch— “you’re the only one who can make shitty puns somehow funny”— and Ellie’s soothed by those words.

That evening, Joel obviously tells you all about how Ellie’s been feeling and your heart breaks for her. You never realized that a new baby would make the fact that Ellie was adopted much more present. For you, there was no difference between her and the child you carried but it was normal she wondered and felt insecure.

You also realized you might have made her feel left out. With the pregnancy, you’ve been more and more tired, sometimes not able to do the usual stuff you’d do together.

So the next weekend/day off, you prepared her favorite breakfast and woke her up, gently caressing her hair.

“We’re having a girls day, just you and me,” you announced.

Joel was with his brother so it would really be just you and her. Ellie sensed that it had to do with the conversation she had with Joel but she didn’t complain. You took her for a picnic in the forest and prepared a little surprise.

It’s quiet at first. You try to engage conversation with her but you feel like you need to break the ice. So you give her the gift you kept for her birthday.

You’d searched for it for months and yeah, it was supposed to be for her birthday but it felt more right to give it now. It wasn’t like a “I’m buying your love” thing, it was more a way to show her that she mattered, that you cared about her.

It was a rocket ship model (you know those mini things you have to build yourself?) that you managed to find in an old supermarket after exploring the surroundings.

Inside the box, you also added a small card and a Polaroid picture Tommy took of you, Joel and her one evening. She was sitting in the middle , giggling as you kissed her cheek and Joel was gazing at his girls, a bright smile on his face.

“I understand it’s been hard on you lately but I want you to know you’re still my Ellie bug and nothing—no one’s changing that”

Her eyes are burning with tears and she holds onto the picture, reminiscing about that particular night. Part of her feels stupid for those doubts she’s been having, especially when she sees all the effort you’ve made to find something she enjoys (and it was A LOT of effort).

You explain to her that she is very much your first child, no matter what biology says and yes, you’re going to love your baby of course but it doesn’t mean they’ll take her space. No, your heart is just going to grow a lot more and make space for the baby as well. Ellie keeps the same spot, she won’t have to share your love with another child. You’re honest with her of course and you tell her that you will have to focus on the baby, take care of them and it will be with you most of the time in the beginning. But it doesn’t mean the end of your relationship. You’re still going to tuck her in at night, help her with school projects, be her best friend and confidant. You’re still going to be her mom.

Things are going to change, you’ll have to find a new balance to welcome the newest addition to the family but Ellie’s place doesn’t change— apart from the fact that she’ll gain the status of big sister.

You also make sure to remind her that whenever she’s feeling doubts or having those dark thoughts, she can come to you and you’ll reassure her, however long she needs to be reassured.

And Ellie probably crumbles after hearing your words because she had been so scared, terrified really of finding herself all alone, again. She loves her future sibling, that’s not the issue. She just couldn’t see a future where she wasn’t put aside now that you had a “real” child.

You hug her tight and tell her how much you love her over and over because she needs to hear it. She needs to know you’re still her mom.

You promise to enjoy as much time as possible together until the baby arrive and then, try to organize things with her so she can still have you all to herself a little bit.

That night, when Joel arrives home, he is happy to see you giggling in the living room as you’re building the rocket-ship model together. He knows you’ve talked to Ellie and “fixed” things with her and when she goes upstairs to put the finished model in her bedroom , you tell him about your day with her.

From then on, you make sure to both include alone time with her— bonding with Joel when you need to rest and staying with you when you have the energy.

She feels much more secure and the rest of the journey is really just pure happiness. Obviously, she loves her sibling and now that her doubts have been cleared away, she’s all the more happy to share her joy with her parents <3

Wowza that was long and I feel like I might have rambled on a bit but I hope it’s still okay!! Feel free to add as much as you want about this :)

-🪷

The bond between Joel and Ellie is so unique and so strong so without a doubt it would be so important for him to remind her that hey you are the queen of puns, you made my broody ass laugh remember? The diarrhea was crucial... They are similar in so many ways. So I think that Joel's role in this vital. Ellie has been his baby girl for so long, the first to break through Joel's iced up heart. So them two hugging on the top of a mountain together, while looking at a pretty sunset. Yes and yes.

To add to the girly time. Yep, you two now have dedicated time when you do things you love. Let's say you also love to paint. So you offer to teach her since most of the time Ellie chooses to just watch. You pick some random arrangement together or maybe even choose to paint one another. And it's just you two at home. Snacks all around as you chat about random stuff. I feel like a paint fight would break out. You would playfully dab your paintbrush onto Ellie's nose making her gasp and she's instantly turning to her paint before tapping her hands onto your arm. Joel coming home to paint splattered walls and you both laughing hysterically while laying in the middle of the living room.

I feel like Ellie just needs reassurance. Need that extra bit of love because she doesn't know what family is. Had no clue about that for 14 years of her life and now she found you both. If you got taken away she would absolutely crumble because now she knows what happiness looks like. So it's time that she needs. Words of encouragement to make her believe that she actually deserves to be loved by you and Joel.

Now I'm also thinking about how fun it would be for Ellie to paint your growing bump... my brain is going places...

No, but after this little downfall it would all be blissful. Ellie would get to experience the excitement of becoming a bigger sibling. I feel like then she would worry that she might not be good enough for that. Just this time she would tell you both about this fear so you and Joel would be able to kill off any doubt that she has sooner. Telling her that the fact that she even worries about that shows that she cares. The fact that's she's been bringing home random books. Sharing her spaceship collection adding it to the nursery. Helping Joel and you paint star constellations on the ceiling and stuff.

#bubble with bubbles 🫧#little lily 🪷#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #the last of us imagine #come chat with bubbles 🫧

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tinyluminaryzombie · 6 months

Text

Running Home To Your Sweet Nothings

Best-selling poet Lily Evans ends up abandoned at a (awful) corporate party, is rescued, and pines over friend and temporary roommate, James Potter. 1114 Words.

For @jilytoberfest's Bitter Sweet Challenge

Prompt: "You lied to me" (angst to fluff)

Read on ao3

“You lied to me, Potter!” Lily called out, dumping her bags by the door.

She kicked her heels off and heard James cough. “I lied to a receptionist. And I think what you mean is ‘thank you, lovely roommate, for rescuing me from the state corporate that my poet soul couldn’t bear,’” he countered.

Lily had come home ready to fight. Today was terrible and pointed jokes and cute smirks wouldn’t change that. She never should have agreed to go, but her sister finally wanted her.

Petunia had called her a week ago. “I know it’s last minute but everyone’s been clamoring to meet you since you got on the best-seller list. You can come to the party as my plus one and Vernon, you, and I can celebrate after!”

Lily was desperate for Petunia’s approval. She bit her lip after her sister suggested Lily’s future husband may be at a hedge fund work party. She didn’t break their streak of silence on the subject of her best-selling poetry book. Not even when she wanted to scream, why me and not the hundreds of other writers who haven’t just released a debut book on their bisexual identity?

Because Petunia wanted her.

Lily still doesn’t understand why Petunia asked her. A few hours earlier, her sister paraded Lily around for a respectable ten minutes and promptly left for her fiance and his friends. Besides Petunia abandoning her, it was exactly what Lily thought it would be: uncomfortable. The intrusive questions, sexist jokes, and homophobic quips made her want to scream. But she couldn’t leave or fight back without either risking Petunia’s job or their relationship.

But just as Lily had resigned herself to the terrible small talk, James whisked her away with one phone call.

He’d helped her through countless horrendous days. Somehow, today was different. Lily just wanted to melt into James, welcome that fuzzy feeling. But every time she thought of confessing, she pictured James, disgusted and betrayed. It was too dangerous to let James comfort her.

Instead, she had come in, ready to fight.

“First,” Lily said, “temporary roommate. Second, I was doing fine without you. Third, you’re literally the son of a CEO.” Walking into her living room, her eyes caught James sprawled on the couch. He hadn’t changed since this morning: still looking impossibly hot in an infuriating muscle tank. God damn it, he really had it all, she thought.

“Hey, Lily!” James said, swinging his legs over as she moved to sit down.

“James, I can’t believe you told the receptionist Mr. Potter wanted to speak with me,” Lily said, forcing herself to stay on topic.

James just looked at her and said, “Well, he did.”

If Lily wasn’t already sitting down she would be now. Unsure of how to respond, she sighed and brought her knees to her chest.

Her arms wrapped around her legs and not James— where they ached to be. Because behind every domestic fantasy, which only increased after he moved in, James was her friend. It was easy to pretend they were living together. But it was fake. And temporary.

Lily fought between a grimace and a smile. “I’m pretty sure they were not picturing a 29-year-old with messy hair and arm muscles.”

Shit.

Lily’s face went slack and James’s smirk grew. Internally, she cursed that goddamn muscle tank for haunting her dreams and corrupting her thoughts.

Barreling forward, Lily continued. “I was so annoyed with you.”

“I know,” James said slowly. “I knew you wanted to fight your own battles. I just also knew you couldn’t leave—even if you needed to. I guess it’s a reflex, to get involved when the people I care about are in trouble. Plus, I’ve gotten pretty good at bailing Sirius out of shitty family situations.”

Lily nods. She knew James wasn’t trying to be chauvinistic or patronizing (that streak had ended years before). But, there was a small part of her that didn’t want to be saved by anyone. Unfortebly for her, Lily had become accustomed to being loved by James Potter—fiercely and unjudged.

James rescued her. What the hell was Lily supposed to do when James knew what she needed, what she wanted, more than anyone else? Friends don’t want to bury themselves in a friend’s skin after a bad day.

Lily shook her head and noticed that James was still talking, gaining volume.

“—You were texting me about how disgusting and horrible it was! Someone literally propositioned you for a threesome! At your sister’s work event! I was scared and I didn’t know what to do. Also, she was parading you around because you hit the best-seller list—which I am immensely proud of you for—but you were an amazing person and an amazing poet before that!” Somehow, James had moved closer, his knees touching hers.

“James—” Lily started, unable to say more. Stuck in the creases of James’s face and the emotion swelling in his eyes. Masochistically, she thought it almost looked like love.

“Lily,” he whispered, “I just needed to be next to you. To be with you.”

Lily didn’t know she got here, to James looking at her like that. Her head was spinning as she processed the weight of this moment. It felt like a love confession. James was speaking softly, never taking his eyes off of hers.

But what if it wasn’t? What if she leaned in and James drew back in disgust?

“Shit! Shit!” James shouted, causing Lily to blink rapidly.

Unsure of what was happening, Lily reached her hand over James’s, bracing for a flinch that never came. “I didn’t mean to make this about me,” he said, voice wavering and thick. Lily shook her head and slowly smiled. Her thumb rubbed the pulse point on his wrist. It was her turn to be brave.

“I need to be next to you too, James.”

James reached over, arms under hers, and wrapped her in a tight hug. She squeezed her arms around his shoulders.

“I,” Lily started, interrupted when James moved his hand to her jawline. “I am in love with you,” she said shakily, doing her best to keep looking at him.

“And I,” James whispered in her neck, lips ghosting her skin. “am in love with you, Lily Evans.”

Wrapped in James’s arms, Lily thought there was something comforting about hugging first. After the confessions, their first kiss was inevitable. But this was reverent.

James’s lips moved up her jaw and Lily lowered her head. Their lips met, soft like the first poem she’d written about him. She’d immortalize this moment later: write about lips, and collarbones, and hips, and whispers turned to whimpers with veneration. But right now, a best-selling poet stopped thinking. Life itself oozed like poetry, new skin like honey.

#jilytober #jilytober fest 2023 #bitter sweet challenge #jily fic #jily #my fic #lily evans #james potter #hp #hp fandom

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haupkmn · 29 days

Text

Copypasted from my conversation with Jolee.

Mostly me having a breakdown while ranting

I get that me saying this much probably isn't helping anything at all but ever since this callout shit started its gotten worse. I was actually out as my family, the whole situation is complicated as fuck but basically my parents don't like other gay people and don't like that I'm "committed" to being trans. I didn't want most of my IRL friends knowing I'm a system because it's fucking embarrassing and it's a fact about me I really don't like.

People have edited my skin white knowing I'm black, people have put my face on the pictures of monkeys people have posted pictures my groomer took of me that basically count as CSEM. At one point there was an kink dating account roleplaying as me and a fucking Chris Chan ass wiki.

I get that would happen in the past was wrong and I can't change that I'm trying my best to afford from it and let everyone involve who I've actually hurt heal but literally every single day I feel like they are watching me in some sort of capacity because they are friends with one of the people who groomed me.

I'm not a liar, I'm genuinely not. I just want to be left alone so I can spend one fucking day without having a paranoid episode thinking they're watching me through some camera or somehow bugging wires in my apartment which I know probably isn't real but it's terrifying because I've had people involved with this go to my parents house and throw trash around the yard or spray paint shit on the house or go to my fucking old high school and take pictures of it at night. and I just want this to end.

There was some fucking thing I got in my submit box on my 18th birthday of someone posting a a picture of them in front of my house dabbing in front of my fucking bedroom window with my parents and I weren't home.

It's been almost five years since the shift starts I've had to move twice and change my number three or four times because some people on here keep posting and there's several blogs on here with my fucking dead name on it and I just want to be left alone.

I've explained the situation with my dog dozens upon dozens of times and I understand that no one would want to believe me because I'm apparently a liar for having shit memory or bad system communication issues or generally was a shitty person in the past.

I'm so paranoid about this because I don't want to hurt anyone, I don't want to hurt children and I never have and I'm just so scared of this continuing and some people in the mod team have spoken to them before, one or two have had callouts from them.

I'm not trying to ask for pity or anything like that because I don't deserve it but please no I'm not trying to turn you against or anything, I genuinely think that you try to apologize they harass you because they've been harassing me for trying to apologize.

I've been so fucking nervous because every day I keep getting phone calls from different places where people just scream into the phone and hang up. I'm honestly at the point where if there's a fucking kiwi Farms page about me I don't want to know it and I don't want to see it because all of this has been terrifying.

I don't like adult baby shit or baby first shit I think it's all fucking disgusting because age regression as a whole is a huge fucking trigger for me that I don't want to get into with DMS with you that you're probably going to send them. My friend who calls himself a baby for just put the two words together as a term cuz it's the best definition he has at the moment and I'm sorry I can't stop shaking and crying I literally just want to be a left alone.

We'll keep saying I want to do pity but I don't. I never wanted pity. I did do bad things

I am so scared of my family finding out that I'm allegedly a pedophile or have abused my fucking dog when I haven't. I fucking haven't I will drop everything and leave work to show you the printed out texts and vet bills uncensored and a note from the police saying my mom dragged me down to the police station and made me do a lie detector test or else she was going to bash my dog's fucking skull in with a rock knowing the exact police at that station broke my fucking spine.

I want to stop thinking that they're constantly watching me somehow or that they have something going on or they're talking to literally everyone I know to the point where I can't talk to my friends anymore, I've been avoiding my boyfriend and working away from people at work because of this.

Every fucking time the phone rings at either one of my jobs I immediately freeze thinking that they got me, they're going to tell my boss about me they're going to tell my boss that I did something even though I didn't. I literally just want to fucking rest I want to be left alone so badly to the point that I dropped every single fucking convention I ever worked for and I'm coming close just asking them to blacklist me and reject all of my applications.

At any thought that moment they could be following me, they could be watching me, I don't know what they're doing or what they're planning but they're doing something that's so scary because apparently everyone I've ever known or care about might be in contact with them if they've ever used fucking Tumblr or maybe not even just used Tumblr.

Honestly if I got a fucking text from my abusive ass mother telling me that Sunny messaged her I wouldn't be surprised. I wouldn't be surprised if someone came into my job or came to my apartment or saw me on the street did literally fucking anything like recognizing my name or my face or my voice or I don't even fucking know I want to be left alone.

It has been five fucking years and I have lost a dozens of friends because of my paranoia and my PTSD episodes and literally got diagnosed with pocd because of this, I mean I had it before but I got the diagnosis probably 2 years ago when they started talking about me supporting ddlg shit which I fucking don't. I don't want to support something that literally made me a goddamn system I don't want to support that sort of thing, I support my friend because I care about them and don't like the shit that they do I literally just want to be left alone. That's all I've wanted this entire time. I'm pissed at the mods have some sort of stupid beef with them that they can't drop but I just want to be left alone.

Day in and day out I have a mutual come to me on a non message me and say something like hey they're talking about you again and then suddenly I got a fucking screenshot on Discord which I never wanted

I don't like hearing this, I don't like seeing this or thinking about it because what unquote drama like this really freaks me the fuck out.

That's probably sounds like some sort of I don't fucking no schizo rambling or something but it's the office fucking truth I just want to be left alone because I don't know what's going to happen next.

It wasn't great waking up on my 18th birthday and seeing that someone who's really close with my groomer found out I had a not safe at work blog as a kid and was we reblogging every single weird post on it that I made with my obscure fucking trigger as the header making fun of me for being 14. The age I made when I made that blog. The fact that these people knew about that blog for possibly years where I posted pictures of myself because my groomer made me it's so fucking scary, and that they saved them apparently and they may still have them. I don't know.

Something's word genuine mistakes. I didn't know about that one Nazi newgrounds cartoon I never on a new grounds as a kid and never saw the actual animation. A mutual made fan are a long time ago when I reblogged it and not knowing what it was.

Even the big mouth shit isn't fucking true. I was drunk on call a long time ago with some ex friends when they pointed out I used to dress like one of the characters from the show and we all started joking about kinning from the show assigned each other characters. I haven't fucking seen it I don't have a fjckkng Netflix account.

This isn't fun. I never enjoyed this. I don't want this. Literally all I want is to be left alone and be some fucking guy on the internet and not have people constantly tracking my whereabouts on my jobs or what fucking ever I don't care. I was never run off I remade because people kept posting my old phone number

I just want to be left alone

#a wild situation appeared!#not pokemon

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fordearlife · 1 year

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to those who hate August and Sara

cw: su*cide

First, listen – Sara is not without fault, but she IS autistic. anyone who isn't autistic is extremely unlikely to be able to fully understand all of her actions and decisions in S2. I want to write more on that (I did a bit more below), but for now I'll just say that the hate she's been getting is unfair and sometimes ableist. Lisa recently shared on instagram that the neurodivergent rep was Intentional and that autism does influence her character, which is something I believe to be obvious among autistic viewers.

August is very clearly not without fault, but I'm begging folks to consider the bigger picture of his circumstances. He has a drug problem, an eating disorder/body image issues, and an incredibly weak support system. he doesn't trust or rely on his mother. His dad also had a drug problem and killed himself, and he hasn't had space to process this with anyone in his life. His good friend (Erik) died and he didn't have space to process this in his own way either, albeit partially by his own doing. He wasn't connecting with that friend's brother (Wilhelm) in the way he expected to, and his friends at school ditched him at the first opportunity to exert power over him to meet their own needs. His shitty behavior (misogyny, etc.) was encouraged/excused by Erik and all of his school friends. Vincent is at least classist, possibly racist (S2 rowing scenes) and homophobic. August feels pressure to succeed at school, he faces financial problems that he's left to navigate on his own and a choice of giving up two things that are equally important to him (the land, art, etc. left to him by his father and the things he's earned on his own at school), and now he has the added pressure of being Wille's backup as crown prince. Meanwhile, he has an inconsistent supply of the drugs he's dependent on, a secret relationship with the sister of the Wilhelm's love interest, who's problematic in the eyes of the royal court, a history of selling/doing drugs and consuming alcohol at school, which he lied about, and the guilt of taking/uploading the video, which is separate from the weight of the consequences. I dare to call all of this canon (except where I've specified otherwise).

The boy has made some BAD, HARMFUL decisions. But we also see him in a very different light when he's with Sara. He puts all of the manipulative shit aside during his time with her and only does his shitty thing again when he feels backed into a corner in S2. I believe that he shows that he's capable of change. What we haven't been shown yet is an avenue for that change. I think that Sara was an important step toward this though, because she seems to be the only person he really cares about in the entire series so far, and hurting her visibly caused him pain. He needed this to happen so he can begin to understand the hurt that he's caused to others.

I speak now as someone who believes in police and prison abolition. August needs help from folks who have been minimally affected by his actions. I want his stepdad and the royal family to keep him out of prison (if Sara was in fact reporting him and not turning herself in to take the fall, I have a Theory™️) and I want Sara, Simon, Wille, and Alexander to get more tangible justice. He should absolutely be removed from them so they can heal in their own way, but he needs therapy, and he needs to find a way to understand that failing to take accountability and face consequences for his actions will cause further harm to both the people around him and his current and future self. He needs better role models, and he needs a chance to form new emotional bonds with others so he can keep learning what it means for people to care for each other.

A final defense for Sara: She didn't just say that she lost her way because she was in love, she said that she thought the damage of the video had already been done and that she was convinced that August was trying to change, and I believe her. She barely saw any of the ugliness that happened between August and Simon in S1. She saw Simon upset with him at parents' day, which would've seemed over-the-top without the context of the money/drugs, and she knows that August posted the video (correct me if I'm missing anything). She DID incorrectly convince herself that he wanted to turn himself in – he never hinted that he would – but he otherwise showed her an entirely different side of himself. He genuinely said he would never hurt her, he wanted to be seen with her in public, and he comforted her when she was upset about Rousseau (that meltdown is also specifically attacked by an upsetting number of viewers as being childish and evidence that she's an uncaring person/sibling with misplaced priorities). They were happy together. The fact that she got that kind of love (from AUGUST even) as an autistic teen who felt so out of place at that school was beautiful, and it absolutely represents a justifiable source of internal conflict for her.

/fin (for now)

#young royals #august #sara #autism #transformative justice #analysis

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arch-whatscanon · 10 months

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@snaptwice asked for a shuffle ai dj starter based on a lyric or theme! → life you lead, leah nobel

taken twice, you're still a part of me there's still some harmony in my deepest rights on and on and on

it had been weeks since ethan had been left behind with the letter that had broken him. lines that he knew lex had procured to hurt him enough to think he wouldn't seek her and hannah out. she's my sister, not yours. it had left him in a messed heap, one that kept his head down and mind a million miles away. he worked . . . and worked . . . and worked because what else was he going to do? he'd moved back into the same shitty complex as before, which was a constant reminder that he was alone. his dad was getting more worried about him, pleading that he move back home for just a little while so he could get his head on straight, but ethan refused. so, tony helped his son's fixation of repairing his old beater, knowing why he was so obsessed to get the thing running for more than fifty miles at a time.

and if you come back another day, maybe on saturday maybe you're fine and i'll just pick up the pieces 'cause my mind is swinging like it's on a line

it was another month before ethan had the jallopy running as smoothly as he could, so he had packed a backpack and a suitcase to go . . . shit, he didn't know. there was a small coastal town in southern california that he remembered lex showing him pictures of. would they have gone somewhere like that? and even so, how would he find them? but he knew he was losing his mind here. so, he loaded up his car and he just drove. from state line to state line, from seedy motel to seedy motel, just hoping that his family was waiting on the other side.

tell me a lie, you're still falling i feel the same, somethin' golden light on your face back in its place all things must change, never the same

a week later, he was pulling into the town and in desperate need to stretch his aching limbs. so, he found some free parking that was just a short walk to the beach, taking in the dry, warm air as if this was an entirely different sun than the one in michigan. along the boardwalk, there were several food trucks, and he found himself ordering a breakfast burrito at once and waiting patiently for it as blue eyes aimlessly scanned his horizons. then, he heard it.

is that -- ?! ETHAN?!

the voice caused his heart to swell in his chest, and just as he was turning, he was nearly tackled by the teenager that crashed into him in a bone crushing hug. the swelling closed his throat and started to burn in his eyes as his arms found his way around hannah's small frame, taking a moment to soak up the feeling before he lifted his gaze to find lex standing a few feet away. he tried to read her expression beyond the surface shock. instead, he offered a weak half-smile, sniffing a breath. "hey, banana split. missed ya, kid," he murmured.

it's just the life you lead, but it's yours, but it's yours don't step down so quietly it's not fair, it's not fair

#i'm okay :')#𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 : ethan green #𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖕 : ethan & lex #𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖊 : ethan / yellow jacket #snaptwice #answered

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 1 year

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Double Edged Sword

Part 1

A/n: Decided to not do an x reader with this one and actually indulge myself with the oc I’ve been picturing for this specific scenario. I’ve had a lot of OC’s that I tuck away when I do imagines but this time, I’m gonna just include him, even though I know my already bare bones interaction will go down. This one is for me <3

Side note: This is an ot3 fic between my OC (Sam), Xavier and Tyler that goes into a lot of stuff that I hc about this series. I think I have a very different interpretation of these characters than most people do so like. Keep that in mind.

Word Count: 5,000+

Warnings: implied domestic abuse, manipulation.

Wednesday Addams hated Nevermore Academy. She hated everything about it, like the therapist who wanted to peek into her mind, even though Wednesday knew the second she did she’d run screaming. There wasn’t even a point to trying. Like the mean girl siren who had a shitty attitude and thought she was better than everyone else - just like every annoying mean girl that ran these stupid institutions of torture. Like the meaningless classes that didn’t teach Wednesday anything she didn’t already know from her family. The fact that said family haunted every inch of the school, and that every step she took had already been taken by one of her parents. Like her roommate. God, she hated her roommate more than anything else here.

Enid Sinclair had only one redeeming quality: her brother.

Sam was... interesting. Enid had admitted to not being able to go full wolf like she was supposed to be able to at her age. Sam, on the other hand, was apparently a prodigy. He had wolfed out for the very first time when he was startlingly young. He never talked about what had set him off, as it hadn’t been on a full moon, or even at night, but everyone knew that he was one of the youngest werewolves to fully transform known through history.

Enid was all sunshine and different shades of pink and dyed hair and multicolored nails. She was cotton candy personified, rays of sunshine sprinkling from her wavy, blonde hair. Sam was bitter and biting and arms crossed, rolling eyes. He wasn’t drawn to black the way Wednesday was, he just didn’t care all that much about fashion in general. Which wasn’t weird for boys, I suppose, but compared to Enid it was startling. He was a fan of sweat pants and tshirts on the days he didn’t have to wear his school uniform, where he could always be found with a non-matching hoodie underneath his blazer. The only thing he and Enid had in common was a necklace - one with a lock, and one with a key. Enid’s key hadn’t made sense at first, until Sam had changed into his usual tshirt with a short amount of time and had run out with the small lock moving along his chest as he ran to catch up with his twin and her friends.

Wednesday liked Sam. He wasn’t Addams weird, but he didn’t treat Wednesday like a freak. He seemed to follow her logic just fine enough. She realized a little too late that it was because he wasn’t a talker; he was a listener. That’s what they had in common. When everyone spoke, Sam was the one who heard every single word. To the point that when Enid made Wednesday a snood and the black haired girl made a comment that it would be a fitting piece of clothing to wear to a funeral, Sam snorted in the corner. “A high compliment,” he remarked. And Enid rolled her eyes, thinking him sarcastic, and left. But Wednesday Rose and eyebrow, stunned at this man as he looked at her knowingly.

“How did you know I like funerals?”

That question seemed to amuse him. “If you liked anything, it would be the things that other people hated. Dead or vicious plants instead of roses or daffodils. Black before any other color. Comments that were insults, are compliments. You like the quiet and the dark. The stormy, cold weather, and the loneliness that comes with silence - both that would drive a normal person crazy if they indulged in it for too long. But not you, hm?”

Wednesday thought him a genius. Not just because he had perfect grades, but because he saw and understood so much more than others did. And he wasn’t just like this with her either. He had a perceptiveness for every student.

So when Wednesday got looped in some kind of murder mystery, of course she included her clever friend.

He was in a lot of ways, the Sherlock to her Watson. Or... perhaps the other way around. They both had an unapproachable way of being, it was hard to tell which was who.

“You’re definitely Sherlock,” Sam told her one day when she jokingly referred to him as the detective. She rose a questioning eyebrow but he was already answering her unspoken question without needing to be prompted. “You’re the logical one. The one who’s willing to do whatever it takes to get the facts. The one who walks into a room, and only stays if there is something interesting. I’m the people person. You get facts, I get living beings. They make sense to me. And... perhaps that wasn’t Watson’s exact thing?” He shrugged. “I’ll learn how to be a doctor for you.”

Wednesday smiled.

She decided he was officially her best friend.

The thing that really sold it was that while Enid and Eugene were great, they both were easily scared and put off. Wednesday often had to forcibly drag them into trouble... and that wasn’t fair. Sam went willingly. Eagerly, even. So although Wednesday still had lots of fun in the Hummers with Eugene, she also had taken the initiative to drag Sam after her into the club as well. And though she ended up being at Enid’s side during the Poe Cup, her eyes sought Sam’s in the crowd when everyone cheered her on and she felt lost in people who would have otherwise hated her in any other situation. Who did hate her.

He was there every time she went to fine more answers. Every break in, whether to a mortuary (where Sam had to hide under the office desk with bated breath, sneaking out a window and hoping the best for Wednesday when the mortician and the sheriff went into the morgue, where his best friend had gone to look at the bodies) or a secret library (getting kidnapped wasn’t that bad, but she did get a little more aggressive than she probably should have when she looked around and realized she could not see where Sam was... it turns out that he was just behind all the other students, bling folded and gagged, but still) or even Xavier Thorpe’s personal art studio, he was there for all of it.

In the shed, Sam and Wednesday looked around with wide eyes at the paintings of the beast that they had seen in the woods. Wednesday had now seen it twice, Sam only once, but it was burned into both of their minds. Wednesday looked at Sam. “You’ve been here for a few years longer than me. You know Xavier, right?”

Sam shrugged. “Yeah. We were friends once.” He always did that when Wednesday asked about something personal. Brushed it off, or minimized what had actually happened. He did it the most with Xavier... and Tyler Galpin, of all people. Wednesday didn’t know what was going on with the three boys, but she couldn’t be nice about it this time. She needed Sam’s insight.

“Do you think he’s the beast?”

Sam didn’t react shocked, or even offended, as so many people did when you accused people they knew of being horrible, evil things. He thought about it logically. “The art is weird,” he admitted. “But I know what Xavier’s ability is. He’s an animator. He can make pictures move, or even bring them to life outside of the page. He can’t turn into a beast. And if he did... I mean, what kind of creature would need such a set of skills?”

Wednesday hadn’t thought of that. Evolution created creatures, even supernatural ones. The parts of your genetics that were different in order to make room for abilities, they all connected. They made sense. Most people had mental abilities or physical abilities. It was such a weird match to be able to play with pictures, and then also turn into a horrible monster when the moon was out.

Wednesday sighed. “So probably not Xavier?”

“Probably not,” Sam agreed. She appreciated that he didn’t shut her down totally, or get angry or even emotional, or call her crazy. He was being completely fair to her accusations. It was one of the reasons she liked him - he would consider things logically, even if he didn’t like the implications of the thing he had to consider.

“Well then.” She lowered her bag to let Thing back inside, then pulled it onto her back again. “That’s all that we’re going to find here. Let’s-“

Sam put a single finger to his lips and Wednesday went silent immediately. Sam’s head tilted, his blonde hair glinting in the artificial light as he closed his eyes, listening intently to whatever he was hearing outside. That was another perk to having a werewolf as your partner in crime: super senses.

“Someone outside,” he whispered very quietly. His eyes opened and then his lips pressed together in an unreadable expression. “It’s Xavier.”

Wednesday asked, “Do we have time to get out of the shed without him seeing us?” Sam shook his head no. Wednesday looked for a place to hide, but immediately realized that was also a bad idea. She looked at the blonde. “What’s the plan, Watson?” He was the people expert after all.

Dutifully, Sam met her eyes and she could see the cogs of his thought process clicking in place. “Wait here.” And that insane man simply walked outside the shed. Wednesday watched with parted lips, surprised at him. She stayed absolutely silent though... partly to keep hidden, and partly so she could hear what was about to happen.

Sam closed the shed, and began to walk away from it. A heart beat’s later, he heard, “Sam?”

The blonde turned to the other person there, and felt himself naturally grow awkward and stiff. Yes, this was good. “Xavier,” he greeted shortly. He swallowed. “I knocked but, you didn’t answer.”

“Yeah,” Xavier nodded. “Probably because I wasn’t inside.”

“As I can see.” Sam’s hands intertwined behind his back. His knuckles went white as he gripped his wrists, trying to brace himself for what he was about to do. “Well. Hi.”

Xavier huffed in amusement. “Hi.” A pause. “Is there... a reason you’re here?”

And here is where Sam ended. He came to terms with the fact that this conversation would kill him. “I haven’t been here in a while. Sorry to just show up. I just, I had to ask-“ he cut off, his voice shaking. Xavier Rose an eyebrow. So did Wednesday, inside the shed. Sam had been here before? Interesting. “The R-“ Nope, that word stuck in his throat too. He cleared it, suddenly unable to look away from Xavier. He was frozen solid. “I thought I might be allowed to bother you, as- well, you see- I know that soon, we have a certain... event, coming up,” Sam choppily managed. Xavier’s eyes widened in surprise as he understood.

“The Rav’n?”

Wednesday covered her mouth inside the shed. Holy shit.

Sam swallowed again. “Look, I-“ He cleared his throat again. “I know we haven’t been friends in a long time, and we were never really together or anything. But I don’t have a date, and J thought, for old time’s sake, we could maybe go together. Since this is the first time you won’t have a date either.”

Xavier slowly smiled, small and unsure, but there. “As friends?”

Sam’s claws grew just a little, digging into his skin. “If you want.”

Xavier didn’t answer at first. Then he started to walk toward Sam, his smiling fading to something more personal. More tender. When they were just about chest to chest, Xavier slowly rose a hand to touch Sam’s cheek. Sam gasped and Xavier seemed to revel in it. “I didn’t think... you’d ever react to me like that again.” Sam’s eyes fluttered and Xavier’s hand shot away. He softly chuckled under his breath. “And to think last time, you were so-“

“Xavier,” Sam whispered, eyes closed. “I’m trying to be friends with you again. What we had before - it’s off limits.” He opened his eyes, looking up at the giant of a boy. “I don’t want that again. I’m trying to resurrect our friendship again. Our friendship only.”

Xavier went quiet for a second. His smile was gone. “Yeah. Sure, that would be- you and me. At the Rav’n.”

A very old part of Sam screamed with joy, too weak and small to actually effect enough of Sam to garner a reaction of any kind. He just nodded. “I’ll see you there then.” And then he turned and began to walk away.

Xavier, ever so predictable, followed. “Sam, wait!” Sam may have had shorter legs, but he took faster steps, and he found himself much more familiar with the woods than even Xavier was. So he stayed ahead just fine. Not too far to discourage Xavier from following, but enough that when Wednesday slipped out of the shed, Xavier was too busy to notice.

Distracted by his friend’s escape, Sam misjudged how far ahead he was and was surprisingly pulled to a stop by a firm grip on his wrist. He spun around to face a frantic Xavier. For a horrible second, he thought he was about to be kissed. A kiss would have ruined everything. He would have broken, right then and there, and all the last months of what he had worked so hard to build would have immediately broken down. They’d have been right back to where they were before, and Sam would have been miserable but too wrapped up to try and escape a second time.

What he got instead was a hug. He had a different surrender with this act of affection. Not something passionate and painful, though it did have a twist in his gut that stung. No, this was a slower thing. Warmer. An easy melt into the taller boy’s arms. Sam’s eyes closed and despite his hesitation, he hugged back, burying his face in Xavier’s neck.

“I missed you,” Xavier whispered.

Sam tried not to say it, but... there really wasn’t any point now. So he did the first honest thing he had in months. “I missed you too.”

When they parted, Sam didn’t make eye contact. He just turned and her lined it for the school. This time, Xavier let him go. Sam was relieved - he didn’t want anyone to see the stupid tears that rolled down his cheeks, making darker marks on his grey sweater.

He had more than pulled himself together by the time he reached Wednesday’s room. Their rendezvous. Sam didn’t cry much, just a tear or two, and especially when he had already shed too many tears over the stupid artist that had so infuriatingly much control over the blonde boy.

Wednesday turned when she heard her door open. She knew it wasn’t Enid - they had coordinated today to Enid’s schedule so she’d be busy when they needed to meet for scheming, and a little after if they needed to discuss it. Sam wasn’t supposed to be in here, being a boy, but he had perfected sneaking in at this point.

Wednesday crossed her arms over her chest. Sam sighed, already knowing what she was silently demanding. “I told you we used to be friends.”

She scoffed. “I beg to differ.”

Sam sighed, plopping onto the ground. “I... don’t know what else to tell you Wednesday. We were just friends.”

Her eyes narrowed. “With benefits?”

He barked a laugh, bitter and short. “No. The most we ever did was kiss, and it was only a few times. It was-“ he cut off, looking away. His face twisted. She let him have his moment, but he knew she needed to know the facts. She needed to know how much he was involved in her prime suspect. If his dismissal earlier had been genuine or defensive. “Xavier and I used to be best friends. And then... I don’t know, he dated someone who hurt him.”

“Bianca?” Wednesday asked, doubtful.

Sam looked at her again. “Tyler Galpin.”

Oh.

Wednesday was silent for a long time, mulling over that. “And then he messed up Xavier’s mural?”

Sam nodded. “I came to Nevermore my first year with Enid. We were here with Xavier, who I hit it off with pretty quickly. Last year, my friendship with Xavier became... strained. He dated this guy I hadn’t even registered on my radar. A normie, of all people, was more of a lure to him than I was. Tyler was better than me somehow. And it got messy, because this will-they-won’t-they we had going on for so long just screeched to a halt very suddenly.” He chuckled fondly. “Enid hated Xavier for so long.” He shook his head, slowly turning sad again. “We started a new school year, and Xavier was excited because we had our first normie teacher too. And I liked her, we all do. She’s amazing. So I started to be more open minded about Tyler. And then...” he shrugged. “Tyler started to act weird. He grew distant and agitated and started to hang out with different friends than he used to at his school. And suddenly, he got into a lot more arguments with Xavier. And then the mural happened and they haven’t really talked since.”

Wednesday mulled over that. “Where did Biance come in?”

Sam nodded. That was a fair follow up question. “He turned inward when he and Tyler broke it off. And he and I... we were awkward. Apparently he knew Bianca through his dad even before they got here, so they started to talk more. Someone he didn’t have all this complicated history with. Well, when they started dating at the beginning of the year, I took my distance from him. I couldn’t deal with being in love with someone who was willing to date normies and strangers and everyone else other than me.” He shrugged. “So I lied to him, and I told him that I didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. And they broke up eventually, but we never started talking again. I never really gave him a reason to cut it off. I guess he assumes it was because of her. And it kind of is, but mostly... we were already falling apart. And I didn’t want to watch him get hurt again. I couldn’t keep wanting him, wanting us, when he didn’t. Bianca was just the last straw. The final proof I needed that he didn’t want me.” He scoffed at himself. “I’m such a petty asshole. Why can’t I just be happy that he’s happy like a normal pining best friend?”

“Movies aren’t real,” Wednesday answered immediately. Sam looked at her, genuinely touched at her response. It had been exactly what he’d wanted to hear. “And frankly, not setting boundaries or putting your own needs first is super toxic. You taking space is the mature thing to do. And I- I’m sorry you broke that for me. And thank you too.”

Sam smiled. “For you Wednesday, anything.” He stood up, moving to her bed where she sat. He leaned against the bed itself instead of her, but the proximity was affection alone for Wednesday, who hated being touched and who equally liked her space. “This means you have to go with me though. To the Rav’n. Get a date.”

Wednesday gave him a withering glare, setting Sam into belly shaking laughter. Unfortunately, she could not longer be mad at him like this.

But she could pretend to be. So she shoved him and he went rolling, falling into a giggly mess. And while he wasn’t looking she managed a small smile. She was glad he could enjoy himself after recounting memories that obviously hurt him. He was a lot... lighter, since she had come into his life. She’d never had that effect on anyone before.

They really were best friends.

Sam stayed outside the police department when Wednesday went inside to try and align herself with the sheriff. He should have known better. With his luck, it only made sense that he’d run into Tyler Galpin out here, by himself.

Now, Sam and Tyler didn’t really have all that much going on personally. They’d always been too awkward around each other to say or do anything. First because Tyler had called day one that Sam was in love with Xavier, and then because Tyler had ruined Xavier’s mural, and they hadn’t really seen each other after that. Not until Wednesday had come to Nevermore, and started to hang out with Tyler, forcing him and Sam to be in the same vicinity way too many times for either of their comfort.

Through her they had at least held one normal conversation, but the awkwardness had only lessened slightly. “Hey,” Tyler greeted.

“Hey,” Sam returned.

They were quiet for a moment. “You get in trouble on your own this time?”

Sam shook his head, but a small smile did make the corners of his mouth twitch a little bit. This Tyler was different than they one that had dated Xavier, but... for once, there were peeks of who he used to be then. He had always been funny and welcoming and friendly. A little out of place, but nice if nothing else. This Tyler was... nice, too, but also a little sad. His smiles were smaller and his confusion and irritation was a lot more common. He had found Wednesday to be intriguing day one, but didn’t joke around or flirt or play like he had once. He was a lot more low energy these days and Sam couldn’t figure out if he had a crush on the Addams girl or just a strange fascination. Sam had to admit he had grown a little fond of him though, either way. At that peak of the old Tyler, the one that Sam had managed to have a slight friendship with despite.... everything else.

“Not this time,” Sam answered. “Wednesday’s here to speak to the chief. She’s making headway on this case of ours, but we can’t totally do it by ourselves.”

Tyler made a strange expression. One that was a bit pained - almost like a wince, but with a smile too full of amusement for that. “Good luck with that. He isn’t really a team player. Especially if he doesn’t have to.”

Sam nodded. “That’s what I said. But you know Wednesday, she won’t listen to me.”

“That tracks.” Tyler slid his hands into his pants pockets. As if to start small talk, he asked, “You have a date the Rav’n?”

Sam had always answered no. Now he felt awkward, especially having to tell Tyler of all people. “Yes, actually, I do.” Tyler’s eyebrow rose and now Sam knew he couldn’t get out of this one. “With Xavier.”

Tyler grew suddenly awkward. “Oh.” Sam let a sharp breath out of his nose, nodding. Tyler watched the reaction, tilting his head a bit. “Aren’t you guys...”

“Not talking?” Sam finished. “We weren’t. I sort of did it as a... in... to...” Sam sighed, rubbing his face. “I guess it was really just an act of self preservation.”

Tyler rose both eyebrows this time. “So you’re totally fine with this and not torturing yourself at all then?”

At that, Sam had to admit that maybe the normie boy knew him a little too well. Perhaps they had more history than Sam had ever allowed himself to admit.

He didn’t get a chance to answer. Wednesday came out of the station, in a horrible mood. “Tyler,” she greeted.

“Wednesday,” he greeted in the same fashion.

“Avoid your father today.” She glared, but although her eyes were on Tyler both boys knew it wasn’t a look meant for him. “He’s in a particularly frustrating form today. Avoid.”

Tyler seemed to find that a bit funny. “Welcome to my world.” There was bitterness in his words though, and Sam’s eyebrows came together. Hold on, what? What had he missed in the last while since he had dated Xander? Because sure, yeah, since Tyler’s mom died there had been a lot of tension between him and his dad, but they were all around agreed to at least a truce. Now his passive teasing and throw away comments that weren’t all that deep had weight, and the way he looked at the station had a certain darkness to it.

It made Sam think of how different Tyler had really been since the mural incident. He wondered if maybe something had been set off by his dad. Maybe that was why he’d lashed out? Gotten different friends?

“We were talking about Sam taking Xavier to the Rav’n,” Tyler spoke again as a way to ease the silence. Wednesday rolled her eyes and grabbed Sam’s arm, dragging him away. Even before Sam had asked Xavier, Wednesday’s attitude toward the dance had been biting. So when Tyler and Sam made eye contact as the blonde was dragged away, they couldn’t help but exchange a rather amused smile.

How very Wednesday.

While Wednesday moved her theory board into the Hummer base to give Enid her space away from the horrifying images, Sam took initiative. He hadn’t stopped thinking about Tyler’s biting comment against his father, and an older part of him that had once cared about the boy dating her best friend was back. Even if Tyler played such a different role in his life...

So he went back to his dorm and pulled out the box from under his bed. The box was covered in dust. He ignored the sick feeling that settled into his gut at that realization.

Inside was a diary, and a lot of pictures. Ones that used to hang up around Sam’s room. Now he looked at them. Pictures of the Nightshades, out of mask, all poses broken into blurry laughter. The top half of Sam’s forehead and one hand, in the shape of peace sign, were at the bottom of the frame. He remembered how they’d all posed so properly, wanting to put a picture up like the one with Morticia Addams, but they’d burst into laughter when Sam had suddenly shoved himself in the picture, only to fail as he was also the one taking it. The ultima the photo bomb.

Almost were with Xavier. There was one of his friends, and not him. Sam had always had a passion for photography... one that he’d lost when he’d stopped being friends with Xavier. It had been a form of bonding between them, their passions for art.

Sam pushed past that as he sought out all the ones with Tyler. He had dated them all on the back, and pinned them up in chronological order.

It was clearer than ever like this. The pictures started with the trio of boys all being rather goofy and touchy and having fun. Even though Tyler knew about Sam’s feelings, he had never been bitter or possessive. He’d only pointed it out as praise - thankful that Sam was trying to be his friend and trying to make this work despite his own feelings, for Xavier’s sake. At the beginning, they’d been awkward, but Sam supposed that really, they’d become friends too in a way.

There.

As he moved down the timeline, he was shocked to see that it really wasn’t as gradual a change as he remembered. There was no difference between the days - only between the change and after the change. The change wasn’t even on the day of the mural. It was rather suddenly, just before the beginning of the previous school year. It went from pictures of sloppy kisses and rough housing and laying all in a pile and laughing, to a very suddenly dark picture taken at night. Fairy lights were around and above them. It was obvious they were in Xavier’s shed, wrapped up in sweaters and blankets. They had a projector playing a movie that was paused. Tyler had started crying. He had curled up in Xavier’s lap, his face buried into Xavier’s stomach. At the time Sam had thought it adorable and had taken a picture. He’d seen it as a new stepping stone to their relationship. It was surface level or nervous or awkward anymore, they were allowed to be quiet and soft and a little bit intimate. In that moment, Sam had felt sickeningly jealous, and had meant to give the picture away to Xavier afterward. But then he’d thrown it in this box and forgotten about it.

The pictures after that very quickly showed differences. Tyler didn’t smile as wide, and he seemed much more tired. Slowly his old normie friends faded out, replaced at first one at a time, and then very suddenly all at once by the outcast-hating friends he’d started to have. Within a week they were all replaced, and only ever showed up in pictures that Xavier and Sam weren’t in. Sam watched in horror as Tyler got further and further away from his boyfriend, the distance between them literally getting wider as people started to be suddenly inserted between them or Tyler lounged further away or preferred to watch Xavier paint from a distance than up close and cuddled like he had before.

How had Sam not seen it before?

All the new friends were popular kids in Tyler’s other school. One was the mayor’s son. Kids that Tyler’s father had always encouraged to be friends with Tyler instead of Xavier and Sam. Because they all hated outcasts just as much as the sheriff did.

For a horrible moment, Sam held into doubt. Held onto the idea that a father would never... but, then, that was wrong. Fathers hurt their sons all the time.

What if they hadn’t just grown distant? What if they weren’t just separated by how they grieved over Tyler’s mother? What if the sheriff wasn’t really content on letting his son date an outcast?

Sam’s face set in a dark expression. He better be wrong. Because if he wasn’t, he was about to destroy Donovan Galpin.

Even if it was the last thing he ever did.

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satanfemme · 1 year

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im really trying to find a place in my spirituality/religion/personal philosophy or whatever as an excatholique. idk. i get that it takes time and effort to find a new place in the world. but right now really i just wanna smoke a fat blunt with ol luci downstairs. any advice?

honestly? my advice is that if right now u wanna smoke a fat blunt with luci, you should literally go ahead and do that (u know, metaphorically speaking lol). try it out! see if it fits! it might, or it might not, or it might feel good now and then bad in a few weeks/months/years -- and if that happens you can just try something else out instead. nothing wrt ur personal spirituality needs to be inherent, permanent, or serious.

letting urself experiment with different beliefs/paths is hard when you're raised catholic, but ime it's the only way you're gonna find a comfortable niche! just keep it no-pressure, low-stakes. because it is. genuinely. I 100% promise. despite what the church sometimes teaches, an all loving g-d will always forgive you and welcome you back if you change your mind later or if you wanna go back at any point. and this is just my personal opinion: but most deities are like that in general too.

being a human is so hard and confusing if you get too focused on the big picture. so for now, focus on this moment. pursue however you feel in this exact moment. then stay mindful. and when the moment changes, you may notice the way you feel changes too, and then you should pursue that instead. this includes taking a break when you want to take a break, or analyzing your beliefs through a psychiatric lens if you ever notice a pattern of distress.

stay open, too. read and learn from as many varying sources as you can. different religions, sects, teachers, philosophers, etc. and be critical of those sources. ask yourself, "why do they believe this? why do they want others to believe this? who does this benefit? who might this hurt?", as well as "if I followed these teachings, who would I be? would I be the person I want to be? would I be someone else? how would I benefit? how would others benefit? could this hurt me in any way? could this hurt others in any way?" thirdly, pay attention to the other people involved in whatever you're looking at, and ask, "are these the kinds of people I want to surround myself with? are these the kinds of people I want my unaffiliated friends, s/o, or family to associate with? how do they treat people with different beliefs? how do they treat me? what do they have to gain or lose from me joining them? would they be ok if I left later on?"

and on a serious note: learn the BITE model. cults are real, and prey upon questioning people. scientology, mormonism, and jehovah's witnesses are all cults and dangerous. in the left hand path, joys of satan is a cult. the church of satan and satanic temple are not cults (afaik) but deeply flawed/harmful in fairly covert ways. individual churches/groups within an otherwise harmless religious sect can also be cults, so don't necessarily trust people based on the seemingly-safe labels they advertise. also, relatedly, please please go out of ur way to actively research antisemitism, dog whistles, and antisemitic appropriation. these prejudices are unavoidable no matter what path you look at (excluding judaism itself, I'm assuming), so you're inevitably going to encounter them again and again (and most likely already have). don't contribute to that harm.

anyways, that's a lot to process but I hope it helps. I understand how difficult this can be, myself being an excatholic occultist/devil worshiper (who still holds loose ties to catholicism anyway cause fr this shit isn't serious and it's fun to mix-n-match). and btw if ur ever really craving xtianity but don't wanna put up with the shittiness of most xtian churches, universal unitarianism is generally pretty ok and openly leftist (and not strictly xtian either, but that still kinda depends on the individual church imo).

wishing u the best of luck!

#Anonymous

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aurumcordis · 11 months

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❛ i already told you, i’d do anything for you. no questions asked. ❜

⋆ quotes from stories I never finished . accepting

"Aw, would you look at that? All this Atlas tech and you still didn't fix the brain damage," Fiona chuckled, hand nursing her drink with no small degree of amusement and watching the liquid swirl inside the glass. It was a beautiful shade of dark red, and the aroma was delightful, too - top shelf stuff, really. Apparently, Rhys hadn't been lying when he casually mentioned that Promethea had very good wine.

(Not that it had been the decisive factor in Fiona dropping by this time - not at all, but the woman wasn't about to give that detail away for free.)

"I don't know much about running a big corporation, but I thought you'd at least ask me for details. A proposal, maybe - with some nice estimates and pretty pictures? Isn't that the sort of thing you get from people these days?" the grin came easily, but it was still mostly just a guess - based on things Fiona recalled hearing from Vaughn and his routine, but even that felt like a lifetime ago.

"But fine. Fiiine. I'm not going to complain if you don't need me selling something if you're that desperate to buy anyway," the former con artist laughed this time, a larger sip of the wine following in a way that made clear that, regardless of the adventures Fiona had lived through the last few years, it hadn't fundamentally changed her - in the same way the money inherited from Felix had led to no difference in how both her (and Sasha) viewed the world, except for a nice little paintjob for the caravan and some cool upgrades to their weapons of choice.

(Six bullets could go at once in her prized derringer now - Athena would be so proud, but Fiona still liked to think about them as contingency plans; six of them - but only as fancy back-up.)

"But maybe you should tell your secretary or whoever deals with your calendar that you're going away for some time. I can't believe I'm going to say this - but I need your help. I don't trust anyone else with this," the woman said with a seriousness that suddenly felt out of place given her previous smiles and light teasing, but it was not difficult to see it was a sincere emotion. Fiona's green eyes were on Rhys and locked onto his figure, not distracted by the wine or anything about their nice surroundings of a transformed Promethea.

She meant business.

And it was not even family business - her recent falling with Sasha meant as much; Fiona was asking for a favor (and a hell of a big one at that), but since Rhys had been so willing and welcoming of her needs, she was not going to change tactics in the face of unexpected luck.

"I think I found some sort of tracking device for the vaults. For all of them. Location and time stamps," the woman said in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning in closer but given Rhys a hard, determined look that was unbothered by his bicolored gaze, "But I need help figuring that thing out to see if I'm right. If I am, though..." a pause, followed by a sharper intake of breath, "I'd be willing to work on an exclusive basis for you as your own personal vault opener - just so we make sure no douchebag gets to make another planet into their own slave colony or something equally disgusting."

The part left out was related to the potential dangers along the way, of course - it was also assuming that Fiona was right (she usually was), that they would get the device up and running (Rhys typically did these things) and that all would flow according to plan - and that was where they had horrible, shitty luck.

But they had done it once against fucking unbeatable odds; maybe the could do it again for one last time.

#⋆ answered asks . choosing words wisely #strongfuck #v: vault hunter after all #*taps mic* testing testing 1 2 3 testing #let's see if I can get her voice _right_

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saturn-mp4 · 2 years

Text

Oh how was I to know?

Content rating: Mature

Content Warnings: Graphic depiction of violence

Relationships, pairings, orientations: Multi: more than one kind of relationship, or a relationship with multiple partners

Pairings: Harley Keener/Peter Parker

Characters: Peter Parker, Harley Keener, Pepper Potts, Morgan Stark, Happy Hogan, Harry Osborn, Norman Osborn

tags: slight angst???

Summary: It's been 3 months since the events of No Way Home. Peter passed his GED's. He's settled into his shitty apartment. Wilson Fisk has been arrested. MJ and Ned are at MIT...and he's still alone. It's only when his acceptance letter for college arrives and he gets a roommate does he realise that maybe...just maybe he can make it through the year.

Or…

Harley Keener becomes college roommates with Peter Parker. Chaos ensues.

Chapter 1 - I watched it begin again

Oh to be alone. Few human beings rarely experience being truly alone. Those who do are changed forever by it. Some turn to drugs, violence and a life of crime. Others learn peace in the silence and turn it into a gift. Peter Parker was one of the people that turned the ever growing nothingness into a life of helping others.

After the disaster that had been his senior year, Peter had decided to save himself from any more pain. He’d stopped visiting MJ, no longer went to May’s grave, he didn’t stare at the Stark Industries website for hours longing for the days when his only concerns were making Tony proud. Not anymore.

Now he focused on being Spider-Man and trying to be Peter Parker again. He’d passed his GED’s with flying colours and was now looking at colleges. MIT was a no go, both with having almost zero legal documents and also the fact that both MJ and Ned now went there. Stanford, Yale and Harvard were also out of the picture. They were all too far and too expensive, plus he wouldn’t be able to patrol as Spidey anymore. Peter had settled on Columbia, NYU and Empire State. Columbia had a very low acceptance rate so that was his backup. NYU had a slightly larger acceptance rate but it was still fairly low. Empire State was a guarantee and his last resort. He’d applied about a month ago and had been accepted by both NYU and Empire State but Columbia's response was yet to arrive. Not so different to his life 6 months ago, only then he’d had his family and friends alongside him.

Moving into his apartment had been tiring. Not only had he been forced to sell most of May’s possessions but he’d also gone through the fact that he had been truly alone. A few months had passed since his first night in the apartment. Now instead of blank walls, posters and pictures dotted over the paint. Fairy lights hung over his windows with May’s old sewing machine lovingly sat on the left. The moth-eaten lamp on his bedside table was now fully repaired thanks to late nights and old tools. Blankets were strewn over his bed. Take out menus were stuck to his fridge alongside recipes hastily scribbled down. A table he’d found at a charity shop was pushed against the wall with two dumpster chairs. One of Peter’s flannel shirts was tossed over the back after a patrol one night. A pile of books was dropped next to a radiator, most of them second or third hand. A fraying bag shoved underneath with screwdrivers falling out, always ready to fix the terrible heating.

One of the few things Peter loved about his apartment was that he didn’t have to worry about people barging in. He could leave his suit on the floor and no one would bat an eyelid.

There were of course many downsides but he tried to ignore them…emphasis on the ‘tried’. The main downside was that his apartment’s walls were paper thin. On top of his enhanced senses, Peter could hear everything within a good couple metres. Couple arguing over bills? A random hookup across the hall? 2 am music parties on the floor above? He could hear it all.

Today was a particularly noisy day. The Jackson’s had just gotten back from vacation, Mrs Murry’s granddaughter was visiting and the woman upstairs seemed to have no shame in her terrible singing.

Peter winced as her voice cracked once more, barely hiding a smile. Apparently, Mamma Mia was her choice of music today.

‘You can dance! You can shine-’ The woman’s voice drifted through the ceiling, no doubt heard by his neighbours. However the sound of a radio pulled Peter’s attention away from the singing.

‘We have a robbery suspect heading down 597 Madison Avenue, please be advised suspect is armed and dangerous.’ Peter’s adrenaline immediately started pumping through his veins. The night before had been fairly quiet, only a few muggings and attempted assaults that had been taken care of quickly. Nothing this exciting had happened in 12-ish hours. He immediately jumped up from his makeshift desk chair, pulling his clothes off in order to get his suit on.

‘Copy that. Officer’s are in pursuit.’ Peter yanked on his suit, half paying attention to his phone in order to keep track of the chase. He grabbed his mask off the desk, pulling it over his face.

‘No place like home.’ Peter mumbled before opening the window and shooting a web at the building opposite. He kicked off, not before closing his window, and swung through the streets. Peter focused his hearing, searching for sirens nearby. There. Making a sharp right turn mid-air, Peter flew through the air towards the sirens. 'Good evening, New York!'

The freedom of swinging through the city was his favourite part of being Spider-Man. Feeling the wind rush past him. Gravity’s tug as he free fell. Buildings and streets blurring as he flew past. It was addictive. Anyone else would call him crazy but they didn’t do it everyday. Hadn’t felt the rush of adrenaline when he first jumped off a building.

The sirens became clearer and a group of 2 NYPD cars in pursuit of a grey truck flew into view as Peter rounded a corner. It was obvious that they were in a chase. Peter let gravity take control as he coasted down towards street level. At the last second, he webbed a nearby shop and righted his course. As he swung past the police cars he gave them a small nod. They could cool down on their pursuit slightly. With a graceful forward roll, Peter landed on the back of the truck. He knocked on the back window and waved.

‘Mr thief! Can you pull over so we can talk? It’s a bit windy back here!’ Peter smiled under the mask. Another perk of being Spider-Man, he got to let his wittiness show instead of merely keeping his mouth shut. When the criminal turned around in alarm upon hearing Spider-Man, the vehicle swerved. It was then that the man decided to focus on not dying instead of the hero.

‘No? Ok. We’ll have to do this the hard way then.’ Peter jumped up onto the roof, preparing to strike. Just as he readied his wrist to activate his webshooter, his spidey-sense blared.

Move.

In a flash, Peter dodged left. There was now a small hole where a bullet had seemingly torn through the roof. Great. Now he was getting shot at.

‘Well it could be worse.’ Peter thought as he spun around on the truck’s roof, avoiding the bullets being fired through the roof. An incoherent yell met Peter’s ears. Out of ammo. Fantastic.

He slid to the left and peered over. The thief had thrown his gun onto the passenger seat and was now frantically trying to ditch the cops.

‘Wait…wait…NOW!’ Peter jumped. He broke through the car window, pushing the driver through the open window on the other side. Now the truck had no driver. Peter grabbed the car’s frame and pulled himself up onto the hood. From then it wasn’t hard to backflip onto the street and grab the truck. His feet skidded across the ground as he pushed. Luckily, the cops had gotten the hint and had stopped in their pursuit a few feet away. The back wheels lifted slightly but Peter had done this move enough times to know how to pull it off successfully. Grab it. Now hold for a second. Got it.

Peter lowered the truck to the ground and dusted his hands off before looking over at the thief now laying on the sidewalk, groaning.

‘Oops. May have kicked a little too hard.’ Peter internally winced before walking over. He quickly webbed their hands together in makeshift cuffs. The cops rushed over, guns ready in case of trouble.

‘Spider-Man.’ One of them gave a small smile and hauled the criminal up.

‘Your welcome, Officer. Just another day in the neighbourhood, you know how it is.’ Peter shrugged. He gave them a quick mock salute before shooting a web onto a building and swinging away.

‘Early start on patrol couldn’t hurt, now could it?’

It could.

Peter hauled himself back into his apartment groaning. He’d gotten distracted by someone doing magic tricks and had swung straight into a billboard. It had not only hurt but had also been rather embarrassing. He tore off his mask and blinked a few times, adjusting to the lights.

Now for his usual routine. Take off suit, put on pjs. Brush teeth, fix suit (if needed). Check for emails or mail, double check door lock, turn off lights and go to sleep.

Peter trudged down the stairs of his apartment building towards the mail room, key tucked in his pocket. He could hear someone loading their clothes into a washing machine in the basement but other than that it seemed everyone else was either out or asleep. Rubbing his eyes, Peter unlocked his locker and took a look inside not expecting anything. To his surprise there was a small envelope in the metal container.

Peter tilted his head, confused, before grabbing it and making his way back to his apartment. Once inside, Peter checked the lock as he always did before looking at the envelope.

The return address was one Peter knew extremely well. One he’d memorised over the past year. Columbia University. This was either going to hurt or going to make him extremely happy.

With extreme hesitation and anxiety, Peter opened the letter. He closed his eyes as he unfurled the folded paper.

‘Ok. 3, 2, 1.’ Peter’s eyes snapped open and he scanned the page, eager to read its contents.

He’d been accepted.

#peter parker fanfiction #parkner #harley keener #peter parker #no way home fanfic

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