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starpirateee · 1 month

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for the drabbles, could i please request ruth and pete just kinda chatting, maybe a lil angsty? I feel like their dynamic would be cool

Ruth and Pete? You got it, anon!

Maybe a little angsty, you said, and believe me, I was completely on board to give you that... But then the characters took this in a different direction and..... Well, it's not really angsty at all-

It had been strange for Ruth, having grown up with Pete and then suddenly not seeing him every day. The two of them had known each other since the early days of elementary, and had gone all the way through to the end of high school being able to see each other almost every day.

All of that changed when Pete went off to college. Sure, they still called as often as they physically could, but it wasn't the same! Pete wasn't actually in Hatchetfield when Ruth had the appointment to get her braces removed, and she wasn't with him the night he was awake for an hour and a half after the worst nightmare of his life.

He had planned to keep the day he came back into town secret, but Steph had gotten a little too excited, and had told Ruth and Richie. The groupchat they'd maintained suddenly went wild. Pete was glad about the excitement, really. It had been too long since the four of them had been in the same place.

Ruth was well aware that they'd all arranged to go out and celebrate at the weekend, but she couldn't wait until then. So, she'd asked him if they could talk, just the two of them. Part of her had been expecting him to decline on account of him being too tired after his journey, but his only response had been asking her where she wanted to see him.

So, she was waiting for him by the lake, staring into the open depths of the water. She was aware of every car that passed on the gravel track behind her, but most of them just drove on, and the sound of their tyres against the loose stones faded out until she couldn't hear them anymore

One of them didn't.

that caught her attention, and she turned her attention from the lake fast enough to watch a little black Polo pull up on the track and stop just by the grass verge. A very familiar young man got out of the driver's side, shoving the keys into the pocket of his jeans as he wandered towards her. Her eyes went wide, and she stood, running to meet him halfway.

"Pete! oh my god!"

They met at some awkward point halfway up the verge, and she pulled him into a hug so eagerly that she almost knocked him off his feet. When he established that he wasn't going to go ass first into the bank, he laughed, and returned her hug just as readily. "Hey, Ruth!"

He had barely changed a bit. Still way too tall for his own good, still more lanky than a freshly planted tree... In fact, the only thing that had changed at all since they'd left high school was the beginnings of a moustache that now lined his top lip.

She would think about that later.

"Since when could you drive?!"

They finally broke apart, and started to walk together towards the lake. Pete spent a moment in silence trying to work out the date, and then shrugged. "Since... About two months ago?"

Ruth shot him a fake-offended glance. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I'm allowed to have one secret, and you already knew what day I was coming back!"

She conceded that argument with a shrug, and led him over to a bench. "Does anyone else know?"

"Steph."

"Not Richie?"

"Not Richie. Richie would've told you."

Ruth pouted. "That moustache makes you look like your brother."

"Oh god." Pete pulled a face. He'd spoken to Ted recently too, he knew that.

The two of them had agreed that they were going to keep a discernable difference between them, since they both ended up the double of their father. While that had caused an argument about who got to keep the hair length (Pete made the rightful claim that he'd grown it first, so Ted agreed to cut his on occasion), the one thing that they did agree on was that Ted was going to be the one to keep the facial hair. He'd made it his brand, and Pete really didn't want to be mistaken for him... "I don't think you brought me here to compare me to Ted. What's up?"

He'd learned to recognise that when Ruth grilled him on his personal life, she was trying to avoid mentioning something about her own. Her anxiety took over when she least needed it to, and she ended up avoiding the subject altogether. He remembered something that richie had said to him in the winter, and his heart ached a little to bring it back into his mind. His brow furrowed. "Uh... Richie said you stopped doing tech? How come?"

Ruth frowned, but she couldn't keep herself from laughing for long. "I did, yeah..."

"What? What's funny?"

"I gave up tech, but- uh- I might've gotten an acting gig?" She looked up at him expectantly, and watched for the moment when the words finally sunk in.

"Wait, are you serious?"

She nodded, eager. That's why she'd invited him lakeside in the first place. All of this was worth it for seeing him again, finding out he could drive now (the number of things she could do with this information...) and getting the chance to tell him that she was finally going ahead with her dream."Uh huh! It took him a month to ger me outta the booth... But we shot this- uh- this stupid little no budget movie that he filmed... And we got Reese and PJ involved... It was fun!"

"So... What? After this home movie, you went in for an audition?"

"Well, I found this-" Ruth cut herself off quickly, with the realisation that Pete would likely know what she was talking about if she were just to reference it. "I joined the players!"

It did take him a moment, but when it clicked, he grinned, broad and genuine. "Ruth! That's amazing!"

Not even six months ago, she wouldn't have dreamed about talking about the Hatchetfield Players in regards to herself! This was a huge step for her, and he couldn't have been prouder.

She could see as much in the way his face lit up. That had been the point of most of their conversations since Ruth got cast in that one line role in their low stakes elementary school play when they were eight. She had wanted to be on the stage ever since, but something had always gotten in the way.

His arm fell around her shoulders, and he pulled her in a little closer. She laughed in delight, looking up to meet his eyes behind the frames of his glasses. "Okay, okay, that was my news... Tell me something from your end!"

"Huh? I didn't come with anything!"

"C'monnnnn, I'm not gonna move till you drop some hot college gossip!"

He chuckled, unable to believe he'd just been pulled into the news without warning. "Uh.... Okay, I've got something. You know my roommate, right? I've talked about him, haven't I?"

"Sure. Jordan..?"

"Yeah, Jordan. He convinced me to take up the bass again. I guess there's that?" He offered, to which Ruth gasped. He held up a hand in a so-so gesture, hoping she wouldn't get too excited. "I mean, I'm no Jack White."

"... Who?"

"Okay then... Uh, John Deacon?"

That one seemed to resonate a little more. Ruth hummed with recognition, and Pete sighed softly, glad he didn't have to pull a list of bassists from his mind.

"No, but you were so good at guitar when you used to do that! What got you back in?"

"Oh, uh, I got in with a couple of the music lot when we went out once. Most the motivation came from them, actually. I dunno, it's good for getting shit out... If you and Richie ever make another home movie, I could score?" He suggested.

"Richie went into film, remember? God, you could score his Hollywood debut!" Ruth laughed in return.

"Only with you as his leading lady..."

"Alright, deal!"

#starkid #hatchetfield #peter spankoffski #ruth fleming #npmd #void offering #star mail #nova's tags →#yeah man you're right #interesting dynamics all round here :)#i love the nerds‚ really i do #throwing in some headcanons here:#pete plays bass and used to play guitar #richie did animation in his first year of college then moved to film #and... steph got added to their longstanding group chat

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snixx · 6 months

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feeling like no one around you cares is such a shitty feeling and it never fully goes away. everyone leaves you and nothing lasts and I'm tired of carrying this aching loneliness everywhere with me and overinvesting in people who just don't give a shit

#kinda feels like I'm failing at everything tbh #my grades are painfully average #my quote unquote best friend of twelve years hasn't spoken to me in months #im pretty sure the girl i thought was my college bestie is avoiding me or at the very least constantly flaking on me #i don't have the energy to reply to anyone and have like a zillion unread chats #it feels like people only talk to me when they need me and I'm so tired of it #im tired of everyone in college forming their super exclusive groups that i can never get into #and blowing me off for shit they won't let me come to #it kinda makes me hate myself a little which is an emotion i haven't felt in years #like what is it about me that is so fundamentally unlikeable that doesn't let me ever feel like I'm not lonely #i just can't #and it's not something i can change #vagueposting the shit out of tumblr dot com

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wifegideonnav · 4 months

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tbh when mitski said “you’re my best friend/now i’ve no one to tell/how i lost my best friend”

#my freshman year of college my best friend and I were both a wreck #and on opposite sides of the country #during winter break I made the decision to share certain information with their parents bc I was actively concerned for their safety #they were deeply upset about me betraying their trust like that and asked for a break in our friendship #(a few months later (which happened to be early March 2020. lol) they did shrooms and realized they wanted to talk to me again lmao)#(so we talked and cried and now we’re still best friends almost 4 years later)#and my birthday is in january so it fell right in the middle of the period we weren’t talking #and my friends at school actually put together a really lovely party and it remains to this day the best bday party ive had #(most of my bdays have been sad and shitty lol)#but i just remember being drunk in my friends dorm room with my friends all around me #it was the end of the night people were just kinda chatting in little groups or whatever #and i was lying on my friends bed just miserable bc all I could think about was how my best friend was supposed to be there too #bc my parents were going to fly them out for the weekend as a present #and obviously that just got dropped #and id been talking to my friends about it kind of but all I wanted was my actual best friend #I left them a very embarrassing drunk voicemail that THANK GOD they deleted without listening to #but it’s just. the quiet agony of being angry and sad and hurt because your person doesn’t want to be ur person anymore #and still wanting to talk to them about it. still needing them to comfort you and give you their advice and insights #i don’t want to talk to anyone else about it. they’re not you.#sigh. anyway. ive actually lost several close friends for various reasons ranging from reasonable to bullshit #and it always blindsides me how much I want to talk to THEM about it #so thanks mitski for expressing that so artfully #op

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bereft-of-frogs · 4 hours

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Office job adventures: today I sent a fax

#the group chat was full of time travel jokes lol #it was an interesting experience haha hope it made it to its destination #i haven’t faxed anything in at least 15 years lol #probably my vaccination records to enroll in college were the last things I faxed

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lesbianfakir · 1 month

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Sorry for being so rambly today (and last night) I have thoughts so onto the blog they go

I feel like part of the joy of art is in community, like you create something and you get to talk about it and share it with the world. This year I lost touch with the friends who I would always talk about art with and I think that loss is heavily impacting my ability to create (and the enjoyment I get from it.) I miss having a new idea and getting to ramble about it excitedly. I miss texting people the sketches and the mock ups and the color palettes.

I got into art for me. I wouldn’t show anything I made to anyone for years. So I’m no stranger for creating for the target audience of myself. Still, I miss that sense of community. I love this blog and I absolutely adore the lovely comments you all leave on my art but sometimes it feels so one-sided on here. I post a piece, I receive a lovely tag back and that’s it. End of story. I spend hours and hours working on something and it kind of disappears into the void in a day or so.

Trying to put it into words, but I think I wish I could create art that starts a conversation. That inspires people to create their own things in response, or even just talk with me about process. I think the perfectionism has gotten out of hand lately because I feel like I’m missing something—which I attribute to the quality of the piece—but really what I’m missing is buddies to chat about art with. There is no level of being “good enough” that will serve as a substitute for a real community.

#ahaha if you can’t tell I am a very introspective person #and a lonely one the transition to college has been rough and all my friends are back home #anyways I was thinking about drawing more stuff for my ocs today #and then I remembered the friend I loved to talk about them with hasn’t replied to me in a month #which is understandable. she’s busy. she made new friends. she’s not struggling like I am so it makes sense that she’s just kind of moved on #but I miss her #I had no chance of making it to her in group because all her friends she met through dance and I can’t dance for shit #I don’t even think she meant to ghost me but who knows #it sucks that I won’t get a real goodbye #anyways all of that to say I was going to draw my ocs and then I got so sad because who would I even share them with #there are a few art groups on campus but I have anxiety and mild agoraphobia and when I try to go I just feel awkward and shy #anyways if anyone ever wants to chat about art #it’s only one of my fav things in the whole world #lea talks #WHY CANT I BE A PROPER TORTURED ARTIST #WHY CANT I TURN MY ISOLATION INTO SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL #WHY DO I NEED SOMEONE ELSE TO BE PRESENT IN THE PROCRESS #is it not enough to descend into a quiet madness on my own and create from that??

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saturdaynightghostclub · 9 months

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Highway Hypnosis

Chapter 7: Meadow Report

I miss gossip. I miss rushing home from the library at the drop of a hat because Nora, my roommate, had “major dirt” on a classmate that couldn’t wait until I was done studying. Those text messages (or, better yet, phone calls)—the “Come home right now” followed by the “You won’t believe what I heard in the diner today”—summoned me quicker than any house fire ever could. It’s horrible, but it doesn’t feel that way when it’s happening. It feels like an accomplishment, like you’re receiving high-priority intelligence. Young people are wasted in retail and food service; we could really be put to use as spies, I think. It’s an inherent sneakiness that’s kind of thrilling, an unspoken code of conduct that we adhere to without being told: information is to be exchanged only in person, unless it’s an objective and irrefutable fact, in which case you may send it in a text message (but why would you, when it’s so much fun to see the look on your friends’ faces when you spill all the latest drama?). “Tell no one” means “Tell everyone, just don’t let them trace it back to me,” and “You can’t know this” means “No really, tell no one.” I want to exercise my knowledge of this code, to be once again on the receiving end of “You won’t believe this,” but it appears that the only good source of gossip around here is me.

I’ve just about given up on my dreams of scandalous water cooler conversation—having three friends, two of them men, will do that to a girl—when it becomes clear that, unbeknownst to me, I have created the biggest scandal in Evergreen since the death of my uncle. It runs in the family, I guess. The scandal in question? It pertains to Jasper Stevens, because lately I’m nothing without his lanky shadow following me around.

“Tell me everything,” Janie says immediately after clocking in, practically skidding around the corner with a crate of whole coffee beans in tow. She knows something I don’t.

I raise an eyebrow, nearly letting Joshy’s coffee cup overflow as I refill it from the pitcher. “Everything about what?”

Janie rolls her eyes. “Don’t be like that, Andie!”

I turn to Joshy, who’s sitting at the bar. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

He nods, amused. “Moss,” he offers, though I can tell by his sage manner that I won’t be getting any more information from him.

“Oh, Jasper? What about him?”

Janie’s exaggerated groan tells me that she’s at least as starved for good gossip as I am, but I’m no less lost for it. She sets her crate down on the bar before turning to me and, in a voice like a kindergarten teacher’s, says: “Moss was in here the other day. You two left together. Tell me everything.”

“Moss never hangs out in town,” Joshy adds helpfully, “he’s like a cryptid.”

I nod. I think I get it now. And really, who am I to deny a fellow woman the joy of being entirely too invested in someone else’s business? It’s one of life’s purest joys. I assume the position: the one everyone knows, that invites others into your confidence. Elbows on the counter, leaning forward—come closer, I’ll tell you a secret. Janie follows suit, standing beside me with her ear trained toward me. Even Joshy leans in, eager to hear what I have to say. “Well,” I begin, “we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”

“I knew it,” Janie hisses, slapping the counter.

“At first it was just coincidental, you know? But he started coming over once a week to change out his books and then—I don’t know, we’ve been hanging out. Am I crazy?”

Janie says “No” at the same time that Joshy says “Yes,” and I groan in protest. The couple stares at each other for a few moments, engaged in a silent stalemate. Without breaking eye contact, Joshy raises his hand. “Joshua,” I acknowledge.

“I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing,” he says, turning his gaze on me, “this is a really small town, Andie. You need to be completely sure before you make a move. Really weigh those pros and cons.”

“Oh my god, is that what you did before we started dating? You made a pros and cons list?” Janie says, whacking Joshy’s arm. “You know what?” She asks, as he dodges another blow, “Don’t answer that, I don’t want to know.”

I put my head down on my arms and take a deep breath before coming back up. “Janie?”

“I think you have to go for it,” she says, “partly because I’m curious—I mean, being in a relationship with Moss, what would that even look like?—but mostly because I want you to be happy, and I think he could be the person to make that happen.”

“You think?”

“I think. Moss isn’t one of those guys you just casually hang out with, you know? He’s an acquired taste. You must get each other though,” she says thoughtfully, “anyway, you lured him into a public cafe, so that’s got to count for something.”

“What do you guys even talk about?” Joshy pipes up, “I mean, I love the guy, but he’s not a real conversationalist, you know what I mean?”

This gives me pause. What do we talk about? We talk about everything, so entirely that it feels like nothing. Like water flowing over rocks, or silk sliding across your skin. It’s unimpeded, uninterrupted even in our moments of silence. One long, continuous conversation. “Everything,” I say, “honestly, if I didn’t know he had a reputation I’d just think he was a run-of-the-mill introvert.”

“So weird,” Janie murmurs, “I mean, you know we all love him, he’s family. But like, the type of family who writes you a letter every five years from a different country, you know?”

“Yeah,” I sigh absently. I want to tell them about that night at the cabin, where he clasped my head to his chest and let his warm cologne breathe life back into my body. I want to tell them about the river, where his hand on my knee sealed my fate as his devoted acolyte. Hell, I want to tell them about how he exchanged War and Peace, unfinished, for The Hobbit because it’s summer and he “should be having fun.” But something about those stories feels too personal to share, like they’re just for us. Eyes on us would ruin the illusion, if that’s all it is.

“For what it’s worth,” Joshy says, “I haven’t seen him so…I don’t know, outgoing? Not for a good couple of years, at least.”

Janie nods, looking like she’s deep in thought. “Yeah. Yeah, come to think of it, he has been more talkative. He gave me a recipe for risotto the other day because he noticed I was buying rice.”

Risotto. Would you look at that. I rake a hand through my hair, wrenching my gaze from my companions as the front window is suddenly assaulted by a barrage of gigantic rain drops. Jesus, it’s like the sky’s got something to prove. I lament a moment for my sundress, which is sure to become a liability on my walk home assuming the storm doesn’t let up in the next ten minutes.

“You wanna head out?” Janie asks, seeing straight through me. “Go ahead, it’ll be dead until the rain stops.”

“Mmkay,” I reply, untying my apron, “call me if you need me.” It’s a formality. She won’t call.

The walk home is, as expected, a balmy torrent of rain that weighs on my dress and clings to my skin. I reflexively fold my arms around my body, but give up consciously after reminding myself that there’s no point. The rain is so all-encompassing it may as well be the air itself I’m passing through, soaking me to the bone. I’m inclined to shiver despite its slimy warmth, and I pick up the pace as I approach the cabin (the cabin which is still a The, caught in the limbo between a His and a My).

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. Soaked and saturated, on your front porch steps. Jasper Stevens rises to stand as I approach, unfolding his limbs and stretching like a cat. He passes through the downpour without so much as a blink.

“What are you doing here?” I call, jogging to meet him so we don’t have to yell above the rain. He’s got this look, like he’s faced some kind of ancient evil and accepted his fate.

“Last time it rained like this you had a panic attack,” he says. The rain’s numbed me to everything but his fingertips against the line of my cheekbone. He’s searching me for god knows what—labored breathing, signs of fatigue, I don’t know. It’s mortifying, and I would shrink from him if it didn’t mean he’d stop touching me.

“That wasn’t a panic attack, and it wasn’t because of the rain,” I say casually, taking a small step into his personal space. Janie’s words are circling me like vultures. She’s the devil on my shoulder, convincing me from afar that this man is the solution to my past, present, and future problems. As if sensing my line of thought, he freezes. His breath hitches in his throat for half a second before he continues as if nothing happened. “Why are you really here?”

“Andie…” he says softly, his voice melodic. Sweet and low, like dark brandy.

“Jasper,” I reply. Kiss me, damn it. I can’t be the first one to fold, I’m not the space alien here. Eyes. Lips. Eyes. Kiss me, Jasper Stevens.

I don’t notice the glide of his fingers across my skin until his thumb is brushing my lower lip. “I can’t…” he trails off. I’m about to roll my eyes or finish his sentence or both when he picks it back up: “I can’t be casual about this. If we do this, I mean.”

“What makes you think I want to be casual with you?” I ask. One of us is the Earth right now, pulling the other one in by some invisible gravitational force. I can’t tell if it’s me or him. What makes this man think that I, all of four inches from his face, want anything but his entire self? Here, moments from changing the very fabric of our relationship, I am more certain than ever that I want to immerse myself in him fully. I want us to change each other, I want to change us, I want us to remain exactly as we are. He looks entirely overwhelmed, and I want him to know that it’s really so simple. All he has to do is lean in, and it’ll all be crystal clear.

Jasper’s lips are soft, slightly parted as they brush across mine. A plea for entry, an experimental knock before turning the key he’s always held. I slide a hand over the back of his neck, fingers carding through his hair where the rain has curled it away from his skin. My other hand tangles with his somewhere to my right before eventually settling on his chest. His breath catches again, as if I’ve somehow caught him off-guard, and then he’s pulled me in by the waist and he’s kissing me—really—and it’s all I can do not to collapse into him. I can only hope that his thoughts are as blissfully simple as mine are in this moment: this is right this is right this is right.

#highway hypnosis #writers on tumblr #here it is y’all i did it #this chapter brought to you by my college roommate group chat and all the gossip therein #and also my rewatch of the bear bc i forgot about this song until i heard it in season 2 #carmy beloved i knew you were good for something #Spotify

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agent-troi · 10 months

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Byers, texting in the group chat: When is everyone free

Doggett: When I’m dead

Reyes: Today? Or in life?

Scully: We’ll never be free until we graduate

Mulder: You think graduating will make you free?

#lmao this just happened in the group chat and I had to use it for this #you can tell we’re all grad students can’t you #college AU #x files #incorrect quotes #fox mulder #dana scully #john doggett #monica reyes #john fitzgerald byers

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sailorpants · 5 months

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ending this 2-evening reading & note-taking marathon with texts that annoyed me so much i had to rant to my friends in order to rubber-duck out why i found them so annoying. surprise! it was the liberal nationalism and the limited theories of change*

*means 'what strategies you think will effectively change the world, especially in an activist context'. (apologies for Jargon, however this post is about reading for my thesis so i'm in the academia trenches. & also sometimes the jargon is shorter to type. hope the definition makes sense)

#Midwest College TM #also i cite my screenshots in my friends group chat.#i have done this in the past but hahaha hbomberguy video relevant meme haha

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thebluestbluewords · 8 months

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My brain is doing some NOT VERY GREAT things rn, so I am EXTERNALIZING THE FEELINGS ONTO FICTIONAL MEN because that’s a healthier coping mechanism than the other options. (cw for suicidal ideation)

Jay’s been to the college library twice. Once because it was part of orientation, and once on his own in an attempt to do homework. He got one chapter into his assigned reading before a group of enthusiastic tennis juniors swept through and picked up anyone they recognized, and he hasn’t been back since. There’d been too many people around to focus on homework anyway.

“I’m not doing homework.”

Carlos thwacks his head. “I didn’t say we were doing homework, I said we’re going to the library. I know you don’t focus around other people.”

Jay rolls onto his back, as far away as he can get in the confines of a twin bed.

It’s not very far.

“I don’t focus….anywhere.”

Carlos winds a hand into his shirt to pull him back.

“Like I said, I know this game. You don’t focus anywhere because your brain thinks you’d be better off dead, and it won’t listen to anything that’s not getting it to that goal. You’re not going to shout over it, so you’re got to sneak around it.”

#this doesn’t get tags or anything #it’s just…..some of the thots I am having about my special little guys #in my heart Jay is the guy who is so so focused on caring about his crew #that he doesn’t know how to exist without them #and this manifests itself in a HORRIBLE attempt at a first semester of college #where he doesn’t know how to function around the void where his people should be #and like.#Evie is off having fun in the city for her own first semester and sending the group chat cute daily selfies and OOTD pics #and Mal is learning magic now that she’s out of high school and enjoying the hell out of herself #and talking about all the stuff her mom never told her #and finding her people now that she’s able to get outside the Auradon Prep bubble #and it’s just…..that relatable college feeling where all of your friends are THERE on the phone #but they’re not really there the same way as they were #and you can’t be the downer who talks about it #but you can’t help but wonder what would happen if you just…..#gave up #anyway!! We love to write our feelings away!!!

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