#god this was an emotionally draining post to write because trying to figure out the right way to word things was very very hard

[storiesofleftoverghosts]

dating the batboys... and their Taylor Swift songs (1/2)

pairings: Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader, Dick Grayson x GN!Reader

warnings: none

requested?: nope! 

a/n: FOR SOME REASON MY TUMBLR ACTED UP AND POSTED ONE OF MY DRAFTS OH MY GOD IM SO EMBARRASSED. but of course my first work is Taylor Swift related. for those wondering, i don’t know if i’ll be doing romantic Damian Wayne anytime soon. just feels a bit weird. anyway! also I just wanted to get something out for people to see my writing style. expect part two with Jason and Tim tomorrow.

Bruce Wayne

as much as I love Bruce, I’m 100% a believer that it would be somewhat difficult to be in a relationship with him

i mean look at his taste in partners...

of course it’s because he’s Batman and he’s a secret vigilante blah blah blah

but also because he is Bruce Wayne!

THE BRUCE WAYNE

he is literally Kim Kardashian status people 

which means if you start dating him, you’re going to have to constantly deal with paparazzi, people digging into your personal life, etc.

and that’s just the surface level

the man has a lot of undealt with trauma and doesn’t believe he deserves love

plus he’s not one to open up about his emotions

I’d feel like there’d be a lot of arguments where Bruce goes too far trying to be protective because he doesn’t want to lose you but he doesn’t explicitly say that so he comes off as being a dick

do not expect this man to verbally apologize if you get into any arguments

he’ll apologize to you in his own way of course

if he was injured while on his nightly duties, he would distance himself from you while he healed (before you found out he was Batman)

would hesitantly let you patch him up because he doesn’t want you to see him as weak (after you find out)

once you do find out about his double life, expect Bruce to forbid you from trying to become a vigilante

he’s lost friends, past lovers, hell eventually even his own son

he would not let you do anything involving it and that’s finally

sorry dude

but it’s not too bad

Bruce loves you with his full heart

and he would do just about anything for you

no doubt in my mind this man would spoil you rotten

getting to see the somewhat soft side of Bruce more often than anyone else

not too big on PDA but once it’s just you two, this man cannot keep his hands to himself

going to one of his galas once you guys publicly announce your relationship and getting slightly overwhelmed from it all

him pulling you off to the side and making sure you’re okay

Alfred becoming a good friend of yours

once he fully trusts you and believes you to be his one and only, i think he’d tell you about his other life

or maybe you just accidentally stumble into the batcave

anyway i think he’d either put you in self-defense classes or teach you because it’s gotham and he can’t risk you getting hurt

he’d probably feel like he could never give you the peaceful life you deserve but he could never give up being batman

just understand that he’s an emotionally constipated man but he truly is head over heels for you

With all this considered I want to say that Dancing With Our Hands Tied (from Reputation) and peace (from folklore) are the best songs that would describe being with Bruce.

“People started talking, putting us through our paces I knew there was no one in the world who could take it I had a bad feeling

But we were dancing, dancing with our hands tied.”

Seeing the tabloids, the color drained from your face. You thought you would have more time before the press started trying to figure out who you were. No, you thought you and Bruce were being careful, sneaking around. But clearly not careful enough. There was your picture, on the front cover of one of the most popular magazines in Gotham. You couldn’t ignore the big bold letters already accusing you of using Bruce.

A shaky breath escaped your lips as you set the magazines down on the table. You were so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t heard footsteps approaching you until you felt strong arms wrap around your waist. Your eyes fell shut as you leaned into Bruce’s soft and warm touch. For a second, it was like every thought left your mind at once. It was surprising the effect Bruce had on you.

Bruce’s eyes traveled down to what you had set down. He rolled his eyes once he read what the magazines had already started to say about you. It would be a lie if he had said he was surprised the paparazzi had already found out about you. He knew it would only be a matter of time before they found out, especially with just how famous he was. 

However, he was more worried about you. He felt a twinge of guilt shoot through his heart. It was his fault after all you were now in the spotlight. He was used to being in it, especially from such a young age. But sometimes not even he can handle being under the constant watch of the public eye. No one can. 

Of course, Bruce was also nervous about you. If you were going to stay or not. This had always been a deal breaker for his past relationships. Well besides the fact of him being a vigilante. But normally they didn’t last that long for him to even think of telling his partner. However, you were different. You were someone who challenged him to think differently, and you constantly believed there was good in people, no matter what. He didn’t want to lose you. He just had a bad feeling. He squeezed a little bit tighter, but not too much to hurt you.

“If you’re worried I’m going to leave, don’t be. I knew exactly what I was signing up for when I agreed to go out with you.” You turned to face him and cupped his cheek. He almost melted into your touch. He looked into your loving eyes. He didn’t have to say anything, but you knew that he was just as much in love with you as you were with him.

Dick Grayson

Dick is a very complex character 

this man is also traumatized

his trauma is not talked about enough by the fandom and its sad

I would say that he’s moved past it, but it’s also left its scars (like trauma does)

he’s just so used to trying to make everyone happy he forgets to take care of his own feelings (im not projecting shut up)

but after being friends for a while and he starts dating you, you’d see right through him

him constantly deflecting his emotions with comedy because the man doesn’t like to be in uncomfortable situations and feelings are uncomfortable 

he’s a stubborn man so you’d have to be an even more stubborn person to try and make him change his mind in an argument

but even then sometimes there’s nothing that could change his mind

having a heart attack because this man doesn’t tend to think before jumps

however, he is such a sweetheart when it comes to relationships

he’s always putting you before himself

don’t let him push you away because he thinks he’s protecting you

always asking about your day and genuinely being interested in whatever you have to say

man’s gets literally heart eyes whenever you open your mouth

he is so big on PDA!

he’s always holding your hand or has an arm wrapped around your shoulder when you go out into public

being in awe of how flexible he can bend his body

until he pranks you by bending over backwards and running at you

“THAT WAS NOT FUNNY I ALMOST KICKED YOU” “it was funny to me and that’s what matters”

being Dick Grayson and Nightwing makes his life hectic, but he always makes time for you

not being too surprised when you eventually find out he is Nightwing

due to the fact when you’d go out by yourself, Nightwing would always happen to “bump” into you and would make sure you’d get to your destination safely

you knew those quips and that laugh from anywhere

turning anything you two do together into a date

whenever he notices you are not taking care of yourself or are just having a bad day, he does self care days with you

you doing the same for him

he doesn’t have as bad of overprotective issues as Bruce does

but he still has lost so many people in his life so of course he’s gonna be terrified of losing you like that

I just don’t think he’d let it control him

he’s so in love with you it’s not even funny

Okay so I’m so confident in my answer when I say that Paper Rings (from Lover) and The Archer (from Lover) are so Dick Grayson it’s not even funny. He’s just Lover coded, I don’t know what to tell y’all!

“I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you're the one I want, and

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you’re the one I want”

“Dick!” You laughed and quickly turned your head away to not get hit with the paper wrapper from the straw he had blown towards you. He had missed his target, and the wrapper fell on the recently mopped checked floor. You shot a playful glare at him and stuck your red straw into your shared milkshake. He gave you one of his iconic smiles, putting his straw into the milkshake too.

The two of you were currently sitting in a big red booth in a 24/7 dinner at three in the morning. The smell of greasy food had filled the air, but it was quickly becoming a comfort smell to you. This had recently become a weekly thing between Dick and you. Whenever you both just couldn’t fall asleep, you’d find yourselves at the diner, talking about anything and everything under the sun. What can you say? The city never sleeps and neither do you two.

Your eyes wandered to the city lights outside. For once, Blüdhaven seemed still, as if it were frozen in time. Your mind wandered as you began to think how you ended up here in the first place. You had been friends with Dick since you were kids, always glued at the hip. It was no surprise feelings had started to develop as you grew older and as the days grew on, it had gotten harder to keep from him.

That was until one night, he showed up at your apartment drunk. Dick was never one to hold his liquor well. You had begrudgingly dragged him in and made a bed for him on the couch. It was then he started to spout out how he’s loved you since you were teenagers and how he couldn’t imagine his life without you. He then begged you not to leave and pulled you on the soft couch with him. It was hard to say no, so you didn’t and enjoyed the silence.

The next morning, you and Dick had a heart to heart and opened up about each others feelings to each other. Since that day, you’ve been stuck like glue to each other. When he wanted to leave to Blüdhaven, you were right behind him and moved in with him. It was funny to think that if it hadn’t been for that drunken “accident”, you wouldn’t have been where you are.

Feeling something being slid on your finger, you snapped out of your thoughts and looked down. It was a thin paper ring made from the straw wrapper. You looked up and stared into the ocean blue eyes that stared right back.

“Someday, it will be an actual ring.” Dick smiled and reached for your hand. You smiled and let him hold your hand, taking in just now warm and soft his hand was. It felt like home to you. You softly squeezed it, and took a sip from your milkshake. For now, this small paper ring would be more than enough for you.

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #fanfiction #x reader #taylor swift #taylor swift inspired #elliessodashop

[saturn-sends-hugs]

OK, finally writing out my thoughts for ep9 (cause MAN AM I EMOTIONALLY DRAINED RN 😭)

Honestly this is gonna be more of a character deep dive of how they’re all functioning post ep8 but HERE WE GO

(spoilers under the cut)

First off, oh. my. god.

I’ve seen some people saying that episode was filler and to that I say WHERE. Did you see all that character development??? Like yes we didn’t get a big Empire plot or anything but like??? Hello???

This episode was SO important for so many reasons:

First off, Echo is gONE AAAAAA 😭😭😭 Was i devastated? yeah, maybe, a little bit, but i was fully expecting this episode to just brush past that and it DIDN’T.

I feel like much of the time Echo seemed almost unnecessary (stick with me here). You have this elite clone squad with all these enhancements and skills, so what are they gonna do with this fifth member? This always felt like a theme for me, especially in fics, that Echo would feel like an extra and struggle to find his place in the squad (Which isn’t true, he’s very necessary, but until now that’s been hard to see).

After Crosshair leaves, it changes a bit. The Batch is used to working with only four members, so although losing Crosshair obviously shook them, they held together (in part because they had to focus on Omega and other things). So here, Echo can step in and fill Crosshairs role somewhat as lookout or copilot or whatever, and he always backs up the others in their roles as well.

Echo is a good friend to Wrecker, able to joke around in ways Hunter (as the leader) and Tech (just not jokey in that way) can’t. He’s there for Hunter as Corporal; second in command and just generally another leading figure (like in season one when Hunter is captured and he leads the Batch through Kamino). Echo backs Tech up in pretty much every way, like just generally knowing what Tech is talking about and how to help (copiloting, ship maintenance, brother handling, etc). And of course, Echo is so so good with Omega. He teaches her to use her bow, he knows how to be a bit more disciplined than Hunter while still being super attentive and sweet, he is simply Mom™️.

And then he leaves.

Not gonna get too deep into that because we all know his reasoning, but while I expected this episode to focus on the Batch working without him, I didn’t expect them to show us how they struggle once he’s gone. Because holy shit they do.

Obviously, Omega is most noticeably affected. She’s struggling with a part of her family, someone she never wanted to think of leaving, being gone now. But the others are struggling too, and that’s only making things worse. Wrecker and Tech are fighting, which although she’s somewhat used to that, this time they’re not stopping. Hunter isn’t doing anything about it either, and none of them are saying anything about Echo being gone. She’s thrown off, no one is acting like themselves (because they’re missing Echo too although she can’t see it yet), and oh right, THEY JUST LOST THE MARAUDER.

But now for the others.

The minute they stepped off the Marauder in this episode, they felt wrong. And none of them really mentioned it or outwardly showed it that much, but they missed Echo too.

Wrecker was off. He’s stuck with just Hunter, Tech and Omega now, and he’s being affected by all their emotions. In the past, Crosshair was who he could joke around with, a role Echo filled afterwards. Now, Hunter and Tech just don’t fill that role, and while Omega might normally, right now she’s definitely not feeling up to it. He’s sensing the tension there, and everyone’s emotions are just setting him on edge, so he’s getting rowdier, more argumentative. He doesn’t mean to be, but he’s upset and he’s struggling.

Next, Hunter is doing what he always does: trying to move on. He’s not ignoring it per se, and I’m not the best at understanding Hunter, but it seems like he’s just trying to keep the team going. And again, it’s more of a challenge without Echo. The fights that used to spark up, Echo would help handle. Or better yet, they wouldn’t be real fights because Wrecker and Tech wouldn’t be so on edge. Hunter is struggling to keep them on track without him, especially with so many other factors at play (Omega being upset, new dangerous mission from Cid, Marauder is gone, how much more can go wrong wait no Mr Filoni please don’t answer that).

And of course, Tech misses Echo. Yeah, he seems really cold and uncaring in this episode at first glance, but OMG that is the furthest from the truth. I honestly think Tech is struggling the most without Echo to fill in that fourth role. Tech always tends to want everything working smoothly, and without the help of a fourth member, Tech is really stretching himself in order to accommodate. And on top of that, he just really misses Echo. When Omega tries to call Echo, Tech immediately knows he won’t respond because his comms are off. And why might he know that?? Well to me it seems like Tech already tried calling him, probably long before Omega did 🥲

Tech in this episode is just at the end of his rope. He’s way less lenient than he might normally be with Echo around, because now he feels like it’s on him to almost be that “second in command”. Normally, Tech can just focus on his work and let the others handle themselves/each other. So when Wrecker drops the case in this episode, normally Tech would trust him to have it handled, and they’d all move on. Instead, Tech takes the case himself. To me this is pretty familiar cause ahem autism, which is a very fitting trait for Mr “I process things differently but I still feel just as much” Tech to have. I struggle to let people get things wrong, and at this point, on edge and pushing himself too hard, Tech is so over it that he decides the only way to get it done is to do it himself.

Edit cause damnit tumblr didn’t save for some reason but basically up until now, we haven’t truly seen how much Echo does for this squad. Yes obviously we’ve seen that they all love and appreciate him, but now that he’s gone we’re truly seeing how important he is, and I just think that’s so so good to see!!! He’s not just the Mom that keeps them from fighting, he’s also just a genuinely necessary and important member with his own role in keeping this squad together.

Basically, ECHO YOU BETTER GET BACK HERE RN I STG—

(no but really, they genuinely do need him 🥲)

So yes, Echo left and the Batch needs Mom back. But it’s not just because Echo was the responsible one with brain cells (although thats also true), it’s also because he is genuinely a necessary part of this group, not just an honorary member to fill in space for Crosshair. We saw in this episode what happens when you take him out of the equation, and it was bad. That right there made just me happy because despite him being gone, it was very clear that nothing would just be “fine” without him, and the batch needs him way more than he probably thinks 🥲🥲🥲

Ok uh I didn’t mean for that to be so long bUT LISTEN, I just think there was so much to that episode and I could talk abt it for HOURS, THEY NEED THEIR BROTHERRRR

#feel free to add on to this!!! i want to hear y’all’s opinionsssss #tbb spoilers #sw tbb spoilers #tbb s2 spoilers #sw tbb #tbb s2 #tbb echo #the bad batch #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb omega

[heliographe]

hey, dream fans. dream fan here.

i dont use twt, i dont rlly follow any people who cover drama and so i found out ab the grooming allegations from the people i do follow vague posting ab it. which-- alr, im writing this just to vent and ill probably delete it later so here we go

im a bit annoyed at many peoples-- fans of dream-- response to this. a lot of its emotional, people being devastated by the news that a cc theyre so attached to is potentially a pedo. like yeah, fuck, that is pretty upsetting on its own. but where is the logic . the critical thinking. come on, people. you are capable of it. ive seen how capable you are.

now. to be fair a lot of the ppl i follow are young and very emotionally invested in this man and use twitter, and if i know anything about the damn internet its that twitter is some kind of fuckin virus. its emotionally draining, it is practically made for going after your sensitivities and insecurities and hopes and fears and all that shit.

the second i figured out the entire situation , i knew it wasnt true. dream is not a damn pedo, or a groomer, or whatever stupid big trigger word theyre throwing at him. and its simple why i know, why its so goddamn obvious.

its DREAM. and i say this with full confidence bc ive heard him talk. about his aspirations , his mistakes, his feelings, ive seen him act it out. weve seen it.

he lives with two extremely close and clearly stable, smart friends. he has many other friends who vouch for him, who have shown integrity and intelligence in their own right.

groomers are idiots. pedos are sick. there are reasons they are like that. dream is neither. he has so many good supports in his life, hes had rough patches as any young and learning and growing person would and he has SHOWN that hes learning and figuring shit out and hes progressing so well, listening and caring and again, its literally visible . the way he speaks ab things, the actions he takes.

i get how important that whole "listen to the victim" shit is, but god. that doesnt mean entirely fucking discard the evidence of innocence on one side of the accusations. take a step back from twitters poisonous moral fear mongering, take a step back from any emotional investment or parasocial feelings you have for dream. look at his behaviour objectively. hes not a villain, hes not a bad guy, hes not a stupid one, hes not the type of person who would do anything like that.

dont doubt what youve seen from this stupid fucking idiot minecraft youtuber. theres a reason you get so attached to him in the first place . hes genuine, hes easy to love because of it.

on the other side of this. the people accusing him very obviously have a malicious agenda. doing this at the height of his popularity, right after he face revealed and is getting ready to do entirely new content ? the wording they use ? god, its so cancel culture it hurts. fuck off with that shit. its disgusting how many times people try and spin popular ccs into pedos and how many fans fall for it bc theyre so scared its true. shut up your fear and think. i say this with a polite tone, bc i am too annoyed to be gentle.

take care of yourselves. please remember to think outside of twitter culture. form your own opinion, and when you do please try and consider things objectively and as critically as possible. twitter culture is a fucking curse.

#vent #dreamwastaken #dreamblr

[i-sveikata]

Gabbyyyy, you really wasn't joking about them arguing almost whole chapter 🤣 When I thought, oh its ending.. nope. They still going 😂 But honestly it was very needed. They weren't this honest for a while, especially Pete. Baby is learning not run away (that much ._.) His emotions, thoughts, ah, masterpiece.

I honestly was so drained after finishing, cause I could feel this tension, seriousness of the situation and the topics. And it says a lot about good writing! Completely emersed in the moment which felt like hours 😅 (Literally it took me hours to read all of that). But don't get me wrong, I loved all of it! Like someone wrote in the comments, did you felt tired while writing? Cause all of their emotions changing, Pete overthinking, Vagas' love bombing - it was a LOT.

Seriously, Pete had so many realizations, I wouldn't be surprised if he goes to sleep with headache 😅 Adding to this Korn's "death". Or is he really dead? Maybe that's something you would like to change in your story and I wouldn't mind 😂

Considering how close we are to the end of events in the drama.. I wonder if you plan to change anything from the main story? And how about post canon? How much after it?

In the series Gun was very on for the coup because I think he believed that Korn was dead. In this case he really doesn't buy it, which is fair.

I know that it's hard not to spoil too much but maybe something ...? Like if they have at least a few days or weeks? It's hard for their development when so much is going on with the family. Time is ticking and I really don't want this fic to end with just small post credits scene 😭

So the real question is if you planned to change any major events or not? Don't need to know which yet 😅

Another thing is how I love Pete and Porsche relationship. They both need each other which I found really lacking in the series. I love how you acknowledged that Porsche relationship with Kinn wasn't so pure like many often overlook. No romanticizing rape 🙏 But still creating a story and very real characters.

I think Porsche and Vegas are right. Pete should do what his heart says. (Not only because I want him pursuing Vegas 😅). It's surprised me how healthy Vegas seems to be acting, considering him being himself. I do believe that they would make a great power couple! Vegas sees this as much as we do 😁

Really, I have so much good to say about this chapter. It was intense but worth it. So, so worth it.

Thank you again for this! I will write to you again when more thoughts come 😊

And now I go sleep 😅 Time difference is really fun when you try to be online when your favourite creators are 😅

Love you 🖤

hello hello!!! omg HAHAHAHA I REALLY WASNT like me too i was literally like okay lets wrap this up now but NOPE they clearly had way too much to say now that they floodgates had been opened and these kind of things were finally being said.

they really needed it. pete definitely need it!! omg i totally understand its such an emotionally draining moment that literally feels like it goes on forever when like it reality it would have been like ten minutes or something?!?! god i hate them hahahahhaha

no i totally was the same afterward like i was not expecting it to come out to the degree that it did, felt like it took forever for me to write and it was super heavy as a scene because they were basically running around in circles the whole time trying to figure out how they can trust each other, still trying to find a way that this could work for the both of them. its an impossible situation!!! of course it wouldnt be an easy solution. but damn at least theyre really talking.

oh yeah pete really did have a bit of reckoning this chapter, finally facing most of the things he's been ignoring or not fully understanding about himself.

oh no we are not near the end yet im going to go well past the end credits scene!!! no wasnt planning to leave it at that, they need more time to work their shit out lol. yeah theres a few things im going to tweak in the canon, but nothing too huge i think? or i guess it depends on your opinion i guess time will tell!

yeah me too they could have been a great friendship but it was so half assed in the show- we could have had so much more from them. oh of course!! that was shady as hell there was no way i was going to gloss over that not after the way we've gone into the horror of what happened to pete. honestly wouldnt have made sense NOT to include that part too. porsche and kinn honestly had an equally dubious start.

omg lol funny you say that but we're going to be seeing a bit of a backslide on vegas' part for that. its more like he can do this right, can make sure they try and communicate properly because it matters to him that this relationship will work out. that they'll last. were going to see a new side to him because of his injuries, because they put him in a very vulnerable place (one that he's been in many times before) and it brings out his 'survival mode' kind of instincts. we can definitely expect some interesting behaviour from vegas in the future.

thank you so much for your lovely comment!! and for trying to be online when i am lol that seems like fighting a losing battle when you're australian- we're like the nightbloggers for everyone else because of the time difference hahha have a nice sleep!

#fic asks #ill fill the graveyards until i have you

[xoxoperse]

movie night / raiden x reader.

“come watch a movie with me,”

[NOTE] hello, everyone! i know it’s been awhile since i posted, but i have recently come to learn that a friend of mine is going through a tough time, so i wanted to write this for them ♥️ i know a fanfic doesn’t solve everyone’s problems, but i want to at least make them feel good for at least a little bit. i won’t tag them just because i want this to be a surprise (and it’s not my business to tell, of course), but you’ll know who you are, love. also, before we get into this, i wanted to apologize for how short it was.

word count: 605

trigger warnings: references to mental, emotional, and physical exhaustion.

you laid on the couch, half-asleep as raiden walked through the door to your home. you had been busy all day, and you had honestly not been in your spot for very long prior. admittedly jumping awake as he closed the door, he reached for his hat on his way to the couch, setting it down on the table. “i apologize, did i wake you?” he asked, looking down to your tired figure.

you shake your head as a simple ‘no,’ smiling up to the god. “no, no, you didn’t,” you answered, sitting up so he can sit down with you. “how did your day go?”

“decent,” he answered truthfully, sitting down. “how was yours?” he returned, looking over to you. you were just barely able to see the corner of his lip twist into a smile as he looked at you. he truly loved everything about you. sure, he didn’t understand mortal emotions whatsoever, but he had a good feeling about what it was that he felt when he looked at you; and that feeling, that feeling was love.

“busy... extremely busy,” you sighed. “i was waiting for you to get home, so we could watch a movie, or do something together,” you admitted in a soft tone - the tiredness was evident in your tone. if you were being completely honest, you had been drained this past week, physically, emotionally, and mentally. you were so busy helping raiden and the earthrealmers, cleaning - you name it, you’ve probably done it - that it was starting to take a toll on you, and that’s on too of everything else you don’t like apart of your daily life. raiden had caught these signs nearly the moment they started to happen, and now he was constantly checking up on you when he could. you couldn’t help but love him more for that.

“a movie sounds great,” he answered with a nod. “should i get you some food beforehand?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

you shook your head, your eyes still on him, “no, thank you.” you answered. you tore your eyes away and got up from your spot to go to the movie cases you had. neither of you cared what you watched, it was just the time spent together. besides, you wouldn’t really get to watch the movie, because raiden would always be asking you questions about certain sayings and things they did. you couldn’t blame him, at least he’s trying to learn about you and your fellow mortals. you have even heard him quote them to people a few times, usually in the completely wrong context. it was... well, hilarious.

you soon found a movie and popped it into the dvd player. standing up to make your way back to the couch, you saw that raiden was now laying long ways against the couch, holding his arms out to you. the god was not really a cuddler by any means, but anything for you, y/n. “i know that you like this form of affection, and i want to make you feel better - at least for now.”

you grinned from ear to ear, taking a few steps forward to the couch. you gently laid on top of raiden, wrapping you arms around him through the little soace between him and the arm of the couch. his own arms went around you, his fingers gently playing with your hair. “you’re not letting me up, are you?” you asked, your head resting on his chest sith your eyes closed. you savoured the moment, not knowing when you’d get to do this again with raiden.

“not anytime soon, no.”

#xoxopersemk #mortal kombat #mk11 #liu kang #fujin #jade #kitana #erron black #kung lao #raiden #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat raiden #mk raiden #raiden x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat preference #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat drabble #mortal kombat preferences #mortal kombat imagines #mortal kombat drabbles #mk x reader #mk preference #mk imagine #mk drabble #mk preferences #mk imagines #mk drabbles #scorpion #sub zero

[cdyssey]

Need

Summary: After Nick arrives at the beach house, Frankie escapes to her studio to process her emotions. Post 7x04.

A/N: I've had such Grace and Frankie brain rot these past few days that I figured I should put it to good use and write another fic. It was really fascinating to try Frankie's POV. Lily Tomlin imbues her with a lot of subtle pathos that I totally wish the show would explicitly explore more.

AO3 Link

—

Frankie excuses herself to the studio for dinner, so she can process her very big, astonishingly inappropriate, and entirely overwhelming emotions without resorting to calling Nick a “wavy-haired, Pierce Brosnan wannabe douche canoe.” 

As delightful (and totally true) of a turn a phrase that it is, even she knows that saying it aloud would be trespassing a boundary that she’s sworn herself never to cross: Grace is married.

Unhappily married, maybe. 

Complicatedly married at the very least.

But until the day that they mutually say “I do” to divorce papers, there isn’t enough room for three people in the Skolka marriage, however much that Grace—bless her increasingly unthawing heart—tries to ensure otherwise. 

So Frankie lets the newly reunited couple have their dinner alone under the guise of a generosity that she doesn’t exactly feel, and she takes leftover pasta into her studio to moodily pick around the bowl until her fettuccine looks less like fettuccine and more like unevenly perforated confetti.

(Woo fucking hoo.)

After a few minutes of this aggressively unconstructive practice, she places her nearly full bowl on a nearby work table and stretches out across her paint-stained couch, staring at the ceiling and resisting the reactionary urge to light a joint. Mary J might help her feel better for the present moment, but tomorrow morning, she’d still wake up and feel invaded in her own home.

Paradoxically, she’d also feel alone, goddammit.

She pulls her shawl more tightly around her shoulders against an invisible and piercing chill.

Frankie hates feeling lonely.

She spiraled when Grace lived in the penthouse. She nearly self-destructed to fill the gaping void that her roommate, her friend, her practical and beloved soulmate left behind. There was a period where she didn’t wash her clothes and ate a lot of admittedly non-vegan takeout. There were nights when she’d lay awake in her awfully huge bed, staring at the empty space where Sol used to sleep, and have the familiar waking nightmare of spending her final years in forced solitude. She was happy with Jack, and then Jacob—sweet Jacob—came around too, and she did something she still feels fucking ashamed about: she hurt both of them, and she lied when she said that she had just wanted to have some fun.

She knows herself.

Intimately.

She‘d been scared of being alone again, so she tried to hold on to two people who were helping her to stave the awful feeling away. Those men wanted her, and Frankie used them. They wanted her, and she pathologically loves to feel wanted because she sometimes and irrationally fears that she might not be needed.

To be fair to her irrational fears, all the people she’s ever needed and felt needed by have hurt her before.

Sol cheated on her for twenty years.

Her own sons stuck her in a nursing home.

Grace just fucking left her.

She eloped in Vegas like a blushing twenty-one year old bride and just disappeared.

She says it was a mistake; she sat across Frankie in a sunlit restaurant and candidly told her that she didn’t like the person she had become when she married Nick.

And to be completely fair to her, Grace has been adamant about not wanting to leave again—so perhaps she never will—but if her husband is here to stay, it's also a distinct possibility that she’ll never have to make the choice to physically leave to… well… leave.

She can perpetually honeymoon with Nick and still call Frankie home. 

It could be a happy ending for Grace… and a fresh new hell for Frankie, who'd just started to feel secure again.

God knows she wants her best friend to be happy, but the big man in the sky must also surely understand that she had hoped that she alone could be enough for Grace, that this unconventional life spent together in the beach house—so crazy, so weird, and so inextricably entangled—would be their shared happily ever after.

But even as she thinks it, the vestiges of her clearly misplaced optimism begin to evade her, dregs now at the bottom of an already drained cup.

She and Grace aren't married.

It’s always been an objective fact.

Tonight, it feels more like an unpleasant reality.

When the door leading into her studio suddenly flies open, Frankie barely has enough time to swipe the back of her hand across her eyes before she sits up to find none other than the lady of the hour.

Her collared shirt popped up stiffly around her neck, a martini glass surgically glued to her right hand, Grace looks quintessentially herself as she walks in, even down to the minutiae of her trademark I'm-angry-at-the-world-and-everyone-in-it expression—brow furrowed and eyes Medusa cold. After all but slamming the door, she stalks over within a few clicks of her practical but unmistakably high heels.

“Well, hello to you, too, Sunshine,” Frankie greets wryly, hoping to hell and back that her face isn’t as red as it feels. 

It’s a tall order, though.

Alas, she was gifted (or equally cursed) with an exceptionally expressive face.

“Frankie, this is nonsense,” Grace says bluntly, using her martini glass like a pointer and leveling it straight at her head. “Come back to the house—your house—and have dinner with us.”

It’s the authoritarian nature of the demand that rifles Frankie.

Frankly, it pisses her off.

She’s always been a rebel contrarian.

“And by us, you mean you and your house arrested husband, right?” She returns evenly. She betrays herself by raising a single and devastatingly skeptical brow. “The man with whom you should be having a very emotionally honest conversation with right now about the parameters of your jacked up relationship?”

Grace shifts her weight from heel to heel and glances away a little too quickly for the gesture to be entirely natural. Frankie had blatantly stricken a pulsing nerve, and the guilt of doing so immediately swallows her. 

She shouldn’t be so hard on her friend.

(She doesn’t know why it’s permissible to be equally hard on herself.)

“Well, I tried to have that conversation, thank you very much, but then I ended up wanting to claw Nick’s eyes out.” The obvious follow up question must shine in Frankie’s face because sighing infinitesimally through her nostrils, Grace adds, “His attorney argued that my advanced age and apparent capability to croak at any moment were reasons enough to grant Nick leniency. They let him out so he could take care of me—whatever the hell that means.”

Her no-nonsense voice never falters as she delivers the brutal words, but her eyes undermine her, seething with emotion, simply roiling. They tell a story of horror and disgust and searing, absolute betrayal; they’re heavy all over with sadness and the indelicate trappings of all her raw and mercilessly exposed fears. 

Frankie understands immediately.

Nick used one of Grace’s deepest insecurities as a get-out-of-jail-free card.

Being eighty-two years old.

But perhaps more accurately, feeling like it.

“Oh, honey,” Frankie melts. She can do nothing else but melt, to be suddenly overcome with fierce, protective, and terrifying love for the woman in front of her. “That fucking bastard.”

Grace immediately laughs, the sound hoarse and watery and a little unhinged all at the exact same time.

“Tell me about it,” she half-smiles and takes the swearing as a rightful invitation to join Frankie on the couch. With a gentle clink, she sets her half-emptied martini glass on the table next to Frankie’s completely full pasta bowl. “I said the exact same thing.”

When she chooses to sit close enough that their shoulders are brushing, Frankie intuitively knows that this is petty defiance against Nick for daring to intrude upon them and the world they've so carefully created together.

She temples Grace’s nearest hand with her own in an attempt to silently communicate that this right here—whatever this is between them—is love.

“So, please”—Grace squeezes her hand back—“please don’t be angry with me… I… I didn’t want this. You know I didn’t want this. I don’t want him to even be here.”

Frankie stares openly at her best friend.

Wide-eyed and hopeful against her self-loathing, self-centered will, she searches her broken face like it's revelatory.

It's stunningly rare that Grace Hanson ever articulates her wants so clearly. Forty years of an emotionally repressive marriage did their number and toll on her. She pedestalized rigid decorum over every conscious desire. 

She played by the rules even if they hurt her.

And drank herself to oblivion on many a night to forget the very fact that she was hurt.

To deny herself the honesty she’d somehow convinced herself that she didn’t deserve.

“… you know this is your husband we’re talking about here, right?” It’s a rhetorical question. Frankie's pretty sure that they both fucking know that it’s insane that this conversation—that this entire situation as a whole—is happening. 

“I know,” Grace replies firmly. “Believe me, I'm well aware. But you’re… you’re my partner, Frankie, and if I can’t be upfront with you, then I don’t know who else I can turn to.”

The very word partner sends shivers down her spine, and the shivers collect like butterflies in her already churning belly.

It’s just a word, she tells herself. 

She scolds.

Grace doesn’t mean anything by it.

It's a label, and Grace doesn't do labels anymore.

“I... I wasn’t mad at you, Grace,” she finally admits. It's easier to do than questioning the extent to which her roommate would give up the world for her, but all the same, her voice is frighteningly weak, a pale imitation of everything Frankie usually projects herself to be: confident, cheerful, unshakeable, unshaken. Suddenly, it hits her that it’s been a very long time since she’s been so openly vulnerable, too. “I'm not even really all that mad at your jailbird husband either. I was just scared, and when I get scared, I skitter like a nervous little bug."

She shuts down.

She spirals.

She tries to put a smile on her face for the people who love her all the same.

And then she lies awake at night, drowning in the sheets of an empty bed.

Thinking about how she should probably tell someone that everything hurts.

But she’s Frankie, and she doesn’t do that.

Grace perpetually convinces herself that she doesn’t deserve honesty; Frankie has come to fear that no one wants her own.

“Were you scared of me?” Grace asks quietly, her grip so tight now that it almost stings.

“Frankie…” She presses when a few heartbeats of silence stagger by, limping painfully on all fours, pronouncing so many unspoken and profound hurts. 

“Of losing you, Grace,” she confesses, the words defeated and scraped raw. She forcefully tugs her hand away from Grace's just to temple her own hands together on her lap, to lick her sundry and shining wounds in a private corner. “I was scared of losing you, of being alone again in this big, empty house… and I don’t like being alone.”

She can’t bear to look at Grace as she says it, staring at the paint-flecked floor without ever really seeing it, her eyes burning.

She wishes they’d stop burning but feels the precise moment when they begin to leak anyway.

It’s all so embarrassing.

And childish.

Frankie is an eighty-year old woman, and she shouldn’t be upset over her best friend having a goddamn life.

She should be happy for her, fucking ecstatic.

And yet, she's—

But before she can complete the miserable thought, her body becomes aware of another sensation entirely—warm arms enveloping her from the side and inexorably pulling her in, turning the space that once existed between two bodies—between them—intangible, negligible.

Grace.

Shock turns into realization, and realization transforms into aching, sweeping relief.

It can only be Grace.

Grace’s soft lips pressed to her cheek.

Grace’s fingertips curling into the fabric of her dress.

Grace’s nose against her neck as she slides her sharp chin across her shoulder.

“I’m not leaving you, Frances Bergstein,” she declares. “Whatever happens between me and Nick, in the end, it’s going to be just you and me in this house that is our damn home. I swear that to you. I’d tell you every day just to prove it to you.”

Oh, these words.

These beautiful, tender, and long-needed-to-hear words.

They’re just words, she could tell herself again.

She could lie.

She could convince herself if she had to.

She could conveniently forget that Grace Hanson uses language carefully, that she employs every sentence with scalpel-like precision.

Or... more complicatedly still... Frankie could believe her.

Frankie could blindly accept these words for what they are, as manifest confirmation that she is loved by another—prioritized and cared for and needed.

She could be Grace’s partner and let that incredible word be electrically charged with so many complex and ridiculous and extraordinary ideas, none of which are traditional, and all of which feel true.

She could believe in her even if belief is not simple, even if belief is a product, first and foremost, of trust.

And Grace has certainly lost her trust before, but goddammit, she's earned it so many times, too.

“Oh, God,” Frankie laughs in such a way that it’s stupidly clear that she’s crying as Grace rubs slow circles into her back with her thumb. “This is all messed up. You’re the one with a house arrested, tax evading husband. I should be the one comforting you.”

“The house arrested, tax evading husband doesn’t particularly faze me,” Grace chuckles, her voice low. “Seeing you hurting and upset does. My priorities are remarkably straight.”

“I’m not sure you know the meaning of that word,” she smiles weakly as they slowly and clumsily begin to extricate themselves from their tangled embrace. 

It’s hard to find themselves again.

To be apart.

“But I do,” Grace protests, emphatic and indignant and maybe even a few shades righteously pissed. “You’re the person I wanna share this crazy life with at the end of the day and every day. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because every day is an incredibly long time to be with me,” Frankie offers meekly, giving her one more perfect and easily acceptable copout, a neatly packaged excuse. 

She can be too much.

She knows this.

“It’s just the right amount of time to be with you,” Grace murmurs, reaching up to brush an errant tear away from Frankie’s cheek, her thumb lingering, her quivering palm. “You’re kind enough to love me, and I’m lucky enough to be loved by you... so let me return the favor, Frankie. Let me be here for you."

And to Grace’s credit in this fleeting moment, she continues to hold Frankie.

It's a promise to never let her go.

#grace and frankie #grace hanson #frankie bergstein #grace x frankie #grace and frankie spoilers #reginianwrites #s: grace and frankie

[wsgeon]

hey everyone! ummm this is peyton (also the mun of lee hyeon) taking a second shot at a second character — i have a lot of muse for this one, so i swear he’ll be around for a while… 🥵 this is ryu geon, yes his name rhymes with hyeon’s & no i do not care ♥️ he’s the lead guitarist/vocalist of meta and also the son of a former nobody rockstar, but i’ll get into all that below! like this post if you’d like for me to come into your ims to plot, click the read more for more info on geon, and/or click here to be taken to his pages: CAREER, DOSSIER, PINTEREST.

HISTORY.

born in autumn ‘97 to a “budding rockstar” (translation: “no yeah i swear our band’s really starting to take off, we sold twenty-three tickets to our last show!”) & a woman with commitment issues ♥️ geon’s dad always told him that his mom left because she had some dire matters that needed to be taken care of and SWORE that she cried the last time she held her dear baby boy, but all of his dad’s bandmates say that she was just some groupie and had to be persuaded into carrying her child to term… who can say for sure?

naturally, there are no pictures of this mystery woman. there was one (1) of her holding infant geon, but then he found out that that was actually a sound tech who worked for his dad’s band… and he just never corrected geon’s assumptions LOLLLL

anyway! he was always really close to his dad, considering they were a two-person family. he has a set of grandparents, an aunt and a couple cousins but they were never involved with geon’s life because his dad is the #blacksheep of the family. geon and his dad against the world, am i right?

uhhh geon was also kind of a black sheep growing up, but he didn’t really notice? he was a happy kid, very energetic and enthusiastic. a lot of adults in the area looked down on him & his dad, but he was SOOOO blind to it because his dad’s a god in his eyes and HE’S always been nice to everyone, so why would they not like him??? because his clothes smelled a little like dad’s cigarette smoke??? big deal

wasn’t troublesome (beyond talking too much), but a lot of people still expected bad things from him :/ “his father’s a dirtbag, i’ll be surprised if that boy doesn’t end up in jail by 20”, “he won’t amount to anything without a proper role model in his life”, “his dad is teaching him how to slack off”, “he won’t contribute anything to society”, etc. he kindaaa picked up on this as he got older but pretended not to because it was more rewarding to play dumb and keep being a good kid(tm) to prove them wrong

was basically a mini version of his dad. same style, similar features, birthmarks in the same places, same “live today, die tomorrow” approach in life, same affinity for singing & playing rock music. ummm he loved his dad a lot. a lot. a lot. wanted to make him proud SO BAD, started his first band when he was 15 and they sucked so bad but his dad was their biggest fan… you know how it is. a lot of people misunderstood him, but he was a very good guy and such a great parent

TW DEATH unfortunately he passed away just shy of geon’s 18th birthday and your boy still hasn’t forgiven the world for taking his dad when he was in the middle of his angsty teen phase — had he known that their time together was dwindling, he would’ve been so so so much better to him END TW

his dad’s band actually rocketed into the charts after he passed & suddenly they were getting loads of publicity, lots of “what a shame that he went under-appreciated” which pissed geon off SOOOO bad because why couldn’t they have had that energy when he was still alive? he’s still mad about it five/six years later

this is getting kinda long, so uhhh tl;dr, he ended up staying with the drummer of his dad’s band until he was old enough to live alone/READY to live alone, but he changed quite a bit. was really going through it, quit his band, stopped putting effort into school. barely graduated. went from being a social butterfly spending every weekend at a gig or with friends to spending all of his time on a pc or in front of a tv, playing console games. the internet comforted him when nobody else would/could and then he met the future members of meta <33333333 #newbeginnings

present day geon is still struggling, has to go to counseling bi-weekly but he’s coming back out of his shell! he wants to fall in love with life again, just wants to tread carefully... outgoing & will talk to absolutely anyone, but he still spends most of his time alone. hard to reach by text, so if you wanna talk to him, you better call/facetime LMAO. talks a mile a minute, especially if you get him going abt something he really likes. laughs a lot, smiles a lot, more habitual than actual signs of happiness but yk. ummm he has a really loud voice, mostly controlled nowadays but he still gets carried away sometimes. an absolute menace during long drives/flights, sorry meta.

funny but only when he’s in large groups. feeds off of other peoples’ energy, really good at reading a room and breaking the ice/making everyone comfortable, but if you meet him 1-on-1, none of his jokes land quite the same.

i envision him as being the kind of guy who carries himself in such a way that you’d assume he’s really popular/out of reach/maybe even full of himself, but he’s... not like that... at all... in fact, he’s kinda irritating when you get to know him. the personification of a flood followed by a drought and vice versa, always either too much or not enough. gets used/ghosted/dropped/dumped/whatever a lot because he’s soooo fun in the moment (if he isn’t in his feelings), but draining long-term.

really emotionally intelligent, in touch with his feelings in a way that a lot of people never thought he would be (probably thanks to counseling tbh). he’s very very rarely the type of person who will make you wonder what your place in his life is — he’s communicative, kind, honest. ummm he thinks that intimacy between friends needs to be more common, so he’s really affectionate with the people in his life. type of guy to tell you he loves you every chance he gets (calling you when he’s drunk, sounding like a clingy ex type beat) & greet you/depart with a hug. losing his dad kinda fucked him up in the way that he won’t leave/hang up until his friends say “i love you” back, gets kinda (re: very) upset if he’s denied that and/or a hug.

TRIVIA.

has been playing the guitar “longer than he’s been walking” (not really, but he swears it’s true).

uhhh he really likes nail art, but he’s kinda hesitant in what he tries? mainly sticks to black polish (or other plain colors), but sometimes he’ll get little designs added in as well. mainly does it himself because he still doesn’t feel comfortable in salons... if his work looks bad, leave him alone <3 he’s trying

inspired by people like kurt cobain, nicky wire, yungblud, billie joe armstrong & damiano david in the fact that he’s not against wearing dresses or skirts on stage. doesn’t do it ALL the time, but often enough that it doesn’t go unnoticed. some people say that he does it for attention because he doesn’t dress like that elsewhere and tbh they’re probably kinda right

interested in history (only SOME... dinosaurs, ancient civilizations, specialized areas like the history of circuses/clowns/skateboarding/punk, stuff like that yk), stand-up comedy & documentaries. could spend a whole day watching documentaries and would say he had fun, has a lot of useless knowledge that nobody gives a fuck about and is kinda dumb when it comes to things that matter

when it comes to music, he prefers playing really fast and heavy rock or punk over anything else, but he actually listens to a lot more soft indie on his own time... he’s too tense these days to be listening to anything else RIPPP

the vibe: homemade tie-dye, ripped slipknot t-shirts, frosted tips, neon crocs with alien & peace-sign charms, chipped black nail polish, calloused hands, cheesy pick-up lines used NOT to land a date but to pull a smile, driving until he’s lost, stupid socks paired with pressed suits, dramatic poetry in an iphone note, etc. 

PLOT IDEAS.

people he met through online support groups about coping with grief

uhhh an on & off relationship that’s been going for who-knows-how-long. the reason for this is up for discussion, but i imagine that he hasn’t given up yet because the constant highs and lows are a good source of inspo 🤪 artists must suffer for their art!

opposite side of the coin — someone he’s interested in, but he’s NOT disloyal so it’s a pattern of persistent courting when he’s single vs intense friend-zoning when he’s not and they’re getting tired of trying to figure out what he wants from them

someone else who likes nail art & can convince him that NOBODY cares if he goes to a salon

someone (probably female but doesn’t really matter tbh) who feels like his feminism is entirely performative… maybe they attack him directly for it or maybe they just REALLY don’t like him and they’re super vague about it idk. either way, please tell him that activism is much more than recommending one female artist a year and saying “clothes have no gender 🤪” so he can be praised for the bare minimum (his heart is in the right place but his skull is empty)

someone super introverted who comes out of their shell with geon! uhhh maybe they think that he’s the one doing them a favor, but in reality spending time with them has been doing wonders for his mental health

other people who like to skate. let’s congregate at the local skatepark and scare the middle schoolers away

someone who inspires him musically, for whatever reason. lots of late nights in studios, idly strumming his guitar and writing lyrics that definitely aren’t about how their eyes look in these dim lights… umm maybe he thinks he has a crush on them but really doesn’t and ends up hurting them eventually, maybe he really DOES have a crush but will (probably) never do anything abt it or maybe it’s entirely platonic and he just admires them a ridiculous amount

someone who likes to make music as a hobby, prob won’t publish/release any of it but it’s fun to imagine. spontaneous meetings with geon in the middle of the night, recording songs together and keeping the WORST takes for the laughs. there’s probably a diss-track of them going in on each other floating around somewhere even though geon can’t rap for shit

night owls who keep him company on the phone, even if they can’t be there physically. them talking really quietly vs geon shouting at them while he plays games LMAO

gaming buddies. come over, maybe you can carry geon through his game of the week or you can both fail but have fun while you’re at it… or you can scream while he fends off that hoard of zombies behind you

i’m typing this at the last minute (literally) so i’m gonna stop here, but i will get a proper plots page put up asap with a wider variety of connections!!! but as always, please do let me know if you have any other ideas. i’m always happy to plot and write with you all 🌚

#ws:intro #frankly my characters end up a lil different from intended 90% of the time soooo take my description of his personality w a grain of salt #this intro is long and illiterate but i'll fix it at a later time

[sunhalf-a]

hewwo my beloveds!  i know that multis, especially oc multis, can be a little daunting — ya don’t know who most of these characters are and reading everybody’s about page is like.  a lot.  i’m gonna do a quick summary of the characters below so you can get a basic idea of who they are.  that way you can get an idea of which muses interest you without having to read the whole bio of All Of Them just to get started.

august: a person who ran away from home at age 18 and found a new home alongside a new name.  cheerful, likable, if a bit overworked, she’s determined to get better.  works part time at a coffee shop and part time at a carnival concession stand, repairs bikes for some extra change.

aika: half - reaper, all spoiled, she’s an inuyasha love letter at heart.  extremely wealthy, she has a slightly fucked up moral center, but badly wants to be good.  possessed by a spirit, who is also her bestie.  very hot, very strong, VERY dramatic.  i’ve yet to write her w someone it wasn’t fun to write her w, but i will admit that very down to earth / non - dramatic people provide a very fun contrast.

mason: that tumblr post that says ‘you can kill me but it won’t last.’  mason dies but then comes back!  the age she comes back varies, but she does ALWAYS come back.  she has no idea how old she is, how she came to be, etc.  she simply is.  loves humanity and being alive, though would like to Die For Real if only to experience something new.  extremely good and morally rooted, though that morality can look strange to some.

kumi: gifted child burnout except you never really tried in the first place.  genuinely a bitch and an unkind person, skates close to being emotionally abusive sometimes, but she’s just trying to keep safe.  very sick.  loves video games.  surprisingly generous, and will always act to protect others, just — not from herself.

daria: a sugar baby, though only for past few years.  she was raised by incredibly strict lawyer parents who expected her to live up to just that, and never allowed to make her own choices.  two years into law school she decided she hated it, decided that she wanted to have fun for the first time in her life, and dropped out.  

soma: amnesiac vampire who’s actually a custom - built martyr made to fix an old god’s sins and then die.  love is the only language they really speak.  extremely powerful and inhuman.  they have no memories of their own, but can absorb the memories of others, which creates an interesting question : if you are made up not of your own memories, but of the memories of other people, is your personality — your identity — yours?  some tends to think not.  genuinely just weird and off - putting but so loving and friendly it’s hard to dislike her.

quinn: a human detective just settling into the role when their small town is rocked with a violent murder.  and then another.  like that wasn’t tough enough, they found of their new team was full of vampires and their absentee mom was absentee because she was running a secret government group of supernatural creatures.  they’re traumatized but just want to keep people safe, and defined by their skill with people, deduction, and their humor.

jocasta: a malkavian, which is a specific strain of vampirism that makes one fucking bonkers.  constantly experiences auditory and visual hallucinations and speaking the future, but good luck figuring out just what their predictions mean.  friendly, but hard to understand due to the hundreds of other voices and selves in their head.  EXTREMELY morally rooted.

elodie: a toreador, which is a specific strain of vampirism that makes one really pretty.   vain, rich, and used to getting her way.  something of a god complex, though her ghoul ( a sort of human servant to a vampire ) heather being murdered to get to to her did some damage there.  tries to do the right thing, but — the god complex means she overestimates her ability to guess what that is.  

luella: a tremere, which is a specific strain of vampirism that makes one good at magic.   a scientists who applies that scientific approach with her newly acquired blood magic.  she’s interested in knowledge above all, though not pointlessly cruel.  considers most humans more like cattle than people, though.

primrose: a toreador, which — wait, we did this.  as a human was the ghoul to a cruel vampire, over - draining her blood, harming her, etc.  their bloodbond meant that prim was extremely devoted, and literally could not leave.  elodie killed him to save her.  prim was badly hurt in the fight, and elodie was forced to give prim some of her blood to save her, making prim elodie’s ghoul instead.  having just lost one master, both prim and el knew that the emotional strain of being denied another might literally kill her — el thus turned her into a vampire instead, figuring that if prim was trapped as her devotee, she may as well be durable.  prim is a bit immature, still enamored with her new vampiric powers, and very devoted to el — still, she’s strong and good, just a little silly.

#tents fingers #hopefully this sorta helps....i know sometimes w multis i dont know who 2 start #but yeah!! take a look @ these kids and if any strike ur interest......lets go #still gotta write daria and prim's pages but its fine #abuse ment / #suicidal ideation / #tho the suicidal ideation isnt meant in the traditional sense

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

*sigh* Vent Incoming

I completely understand if you don’t feel like reading through this and simply scroll on past, I get like that sometimes too which is why I’m putting the long-winded part below a breaker. I just really need to vent right now in a place that will (hopefully) give me unbiased feedback, advice, and answers. 

TW/CW: Likely to be swearing, self-criticism, anxiety, claustrophobia, depression

Fair Warning, if you choose to read through I can’t promise that it’ll be 100% understandable... I may be able to write characters that eloquently tell someone to go f*** themselves right after giving their entire life story but when it comes to my actual thoughts and feelings I have no order or form. It’s all chaos from here on out...

     I recently got diagnosed with Mixed Connective Tissue disease. If you don’t know what that is, my understanding is that it’s an autoimmune disease that can show up as different things in different people. That being said, I don’t feel like I do a whole lot during my daily life. I wake up, tired of course, on the weekdays I go to school for classes and work (I’m a work-study), on Tuesdays and Thursdays I’m home by 4pm. and on those days I have dinner, do any necessary homework, watch some Supernatural and/or write, and then do some solo acting before going to bed no later than 12, exhausted mind you but I get up no earlier than 7am every morning. The only thing that changes for Monday is that I’m at school from 9-8:30 because of a night class. On Wednesdays, the only change is that instead of homework, Supernatural, and writing I go to church and help out with GAs and am home by about 8. On the weekends, I usually sleep in late but no later than 11am. I do any chores and cleaning, homework, and then generally always have time for Supernatural, writing, and acting before going to bed, again no later than 12. So looking at this list, I don’t really do all that much, but I feel like I’m constantly running 90 mph and my brain is almost always running several tracks with twice as many trains. I feel absolutely and utterly exhausted.

     Now here’s where it takes a turn. I am spiritually weak. I always try my hardest to chase after God and seek HIm but I always end up feeling like I’ve hit a brick wall. I feel broken and abandoned. Mentally, as previously mentioned my brain is always running at 110%, that is unless I’m acting, writing, or watching Supernatural. I am constantly fighting off depression and anxiety. As for emotionally, I feel drained and full all at the same time. I feel like I’ve bottled every bit of it up and just don’t have the energy to deal with it all. I realized tonight how much it is affecting my relationships because my boyfriend asked me if he did something to upset me because I’ve been on edge and short-tempered with him lately. (Btw ladies, get you a man who will come to you and talk instead of just assuming you don’t want him anymore. Communication is key.) I realized how distant I feel from him and realized that my chaotic junk pile of a brain and life has caused me to slowly start distancing myself. I don’t want to lose him. He’s the best thing I’ve got.

     On the other hand, I am so weak, broken, disheveled, and vulnerable right now that all I want is to lock myself away with my demons and let them devour me. I know that if I do that if I let them take me, I’ll never come back from it. I find myself longing for someone to hold me so tight that all my pieces squish themselves back together while simultaneously wanting to shove everyone away and never talk to anyone again. I constantly feel like I want to scream my lungs out until I lose every bit of my voice and then scream some more. I feel like I’m never still and never resting. I don’t even sleep well at night because I toss and turn all night, likely from my active mind. I am so drained and exhausted that even the thought of having to face another day makes me cringe. 

     I don’t understand what the fuck is going on and therefore don’t know how in the hell I’m ever going to fix it. I feel like I’m falling apart piece by piece and inevitably there will be nothing left but dust. The worst part is, I blame myself for every bit of this. I’m constantly in a state of “If I could just be better. If only I were stronger. Why am I such an absolute fuck up? Where the hell did I go wrong? Why the hell is no one answering my prayers?” The only other time I’ve ever felt anything like this in my life was several years ago when I was so depressed and dark that my only friends were the bands I listened to and the demons who came out to play at night. That was such a dark time for me and I so badly don’t want to fall back into it but I feel like something is stomping on my knuckles as I hang on tight to the edge of the pit. My muscles are quivering and my arms are getting weaker by the second. It took so much work and fighting and glue to drag myself out last time and piece myself back together. I only just found myself walking in the sunshine this past year.

     That’s just it. I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I was getting better. I thought I had overcome my anxiety and depression but then it blew my house down and threw me into the dirt. I feel like I’ve been ripped apart into shreds, put back together, and then beat the shit out of just for fucks and giggles. I’m so lost. I’m so broken. I’m in so much pain and heartache. I don’t know which way is up or if that way is left. I just feel... helpless. I feel like I’m screaming into a crowd for help and the only thing that answers is my own dark and twisted echo... 

     *Curls into a ball on the floor* I’m sorry if you’ve made it this far... I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to post this... I guess just for some sort of release... I think I’m going to escape into acting for about an hour and then go to bed. Goodnight guys...

[fusion-ego]

Lots of discussion on my mental and physical health below the line. Please do not feel pressured to read my it, you’re not at all obligated to read it or try to offer me any help. I just needed to talk about it somewhere where someone might actually see it instead of locking it all up in my head or yelling into the void. Being heard at all might help it feel less nasty.

Please do not read this if you’re not emotionally/mentally up for topics that might be upsetting.

hey not to be like,,,, continually salty and negative on main but like

i’m tired of pretending i’m not kinda straight-up suffering 99% of the time? aside from some vent art and some references to not feeling great or to my mental illnesses i always act sorta... Fine?

and that’s got nothing to do with y’all, that’s all to do with me. i’m terrified of talking about this stuff. it scares me to show what i consider to be weakness by admitting i’m hurting and i’m scared.

but real shit?

i’m hurting. and i’m scared.

i don’t think i’ve been mentally stable since before we even moved to Arizona. i have plenty of energy to do shit with until the moment it requires my emotional involvement and then i’m just instantly drained all around. i can write and draw for myself and that’s basically all i can do. my body feels worse here than it ever did back in Illinois. i can’t even go a single day without my back or knees giving me trouble and for the most part i kind of just fight through it and don’t say anything. i can never figure out if what i’m feeling is just some All Natural Emotions or if it’s my bipolar unbalancing me, or my schizophrenia making me paranoid.

and i’ve been fighting since we got here to get a full-time job somewhere, something that will put money in my account and let me save up for the down payment on a real house, like dad asked me to. i have put in so many fucking applications i’ve lost track and my brain hurts thinking about it. i have put in so many applications that i will literally straight-up cry if i look at one right now. and i’ve gotten exactly three interviews in a year, two of which were at the same place. and neither place hired me. and now everything is shut down and nowhere’s really even hiring except Amazon warehouses that i probably can’t even work in because of my scoliosis fucking up my back and making bending, kneeling, twisting, and even standing hurt like nobody’s business.

so i’m hurting.

and every day is like a fucking roulette wheel because i never know how stable i’m going to be. i can wake up feeling fine and within the hour i’m drained and angry and “oh god please do not make me go outside if i go out there i’m gonna die”. i can wake up and get through most of the day without an issue only to have one tiny thing just FLING me into a what passes as a full-on meltdown.

i’ve cried more in the past year and a half than in the previous 10 combined.

i have no idea when a trigger is going to pop up and freak me out because what counts as a trigger depends on my current stability and i never know how stable i’m going to be from day to day.

i’ve spent the actual two (almost three) years since being diagnosed managing these symptoms on my own and trying to understand them for what they are and work around them or work with them to achieve something like the normalcy of before most of my symptoms popped up. and it has not fucking worked one bit because the rest of my life isn’t balanced which means i can’t find the same balance of stress and downtime i used to have, meaning i couldn’t touch on that sense of normalcy if i tried. so i’ve come to the conclusion i probably need to go back to counseling and i probably need to be medicated for some of this, just so that i can balance a little better and maybe stop crying once a week because the thought of going outside after dark kicks all of the worst thoughts i can have into overdrive.

i know my symptoms and most of my triggers inside and out and i know nothing i can personally do about them at this point in time is going to do anything to make them less intense or less horrible.

i have years of internalized bullshit i need to sift through because hey guess what? i have a fiance! and you know what? i don’t give him enough love or attention, definitely not as much as he deserves! definitely not enough to match with how i fucking feel about him! so he feels unloved and i feel like a piece of shit because i don’t know how to express to him that i love him as much as i really do because i was never taught how to do that. and actions speak louder than words but what actions are really loving? what won’t come across as annoyed or coddling? that’s all i ever got, that’s all i know how to give

so i’m scared.

i am so fucking scared.

i don’t know what to do and everything always kind of feels like its falling apart.

and maybe if i just learned to talk about this with people who matter and who want me to feel better sooner i might not have gotten to this point. maybe i would have. maybe it doesn’t matter how much i do or don’t talk. maybe i just need medication and for my mom to stop constantly harassing me about getting a job when i am literally doing everything that i can.

who knows.

anyway. i think i’m done.

as usual with my mental illness posts: y’all can interact, but don’t fucking clown. i’m tired. i don’t feel like dealing with you.

#vent #personal #mental illness #i'm tired y'all #don't clown on this post

[taenys]

“does it bother you that i’m still friends with *insert ex’s name here*”

oof. wasn’t ready for that one. my brain shut down the moment he said it. the way it shuts down whenever he mentions talking to her. yes, it does bother me that he’s still friends with his ex, but not for the reasons he probably thinks and not for any reasons i felt i could share during the car ride home (honestly probably a better discussion to have in writing, i might cry in person lmao). it’s not because i’m stupid and jealous and feel "threatened.”

it’s because a few weeks ago i made the grave error of snooping deeper into her facebook, and seeing a link to her personal writing blog. i too am a writer, a poor one yes, but still. and so i wanted to see her own work, torture myself and see what kind of romantic sonnets she may have written while she was with tom. i figured they’d be beautiful. and what can i say, i love to suffer.

anyways, i went back to 2010 on her blogspot, to when they first started dating and i saw?? nothing about him? nothing about her feelings for him? which freaked me out because why wouldn’t she document her journey falling in love with tom. i mean, i certainly have on my own blog. all she wrote about was about her ex. romantic stuff about missing said ex. did i have my dates mixed up maybe? no, no. because then there was a post where she literally says she’s still in love with her ex while she’s with tom and how she knows that makes her a shitty girlfriend. um yeah. very fucking shitty. did tom know this going in? i know tom dropped everything and moved across the country for her (he told me that before), but did he do that knowing she felt this way? did he sacrifice so much of himself knowing she loved someone else? if so, why? i have to assume she was tom’s “great love,” you know? that one “epic” love of your life that presumably only happens once. which is why he was willing to do seemingly ANYTHING for her.

when i think about it now, i can’t picture tom being that way. he’s too mature and sensible now. i have to assume he learned a lot from that relationship, and a lot of his outlook on dating has shifted over the years as a result. his dating profile had something like “i’m not looking for someone to ‘complete’ me” and emphasized that he’s perfectly happy on his own. that’s definitely not the same person who dropped his whole life, school, work, family, friends, and moved across the country to be with the girl he loved...that’s the kinda shit you read in cheesy teen romance novels and corny movies (that i love, btw). but still, it was a lot. and he did that for her without hesitation. and just purely based on her personal blog ramblings, she didn’t show a lot of gratitude for it. maybe that’s just because she only chose to document the negative, i don’t know.

there was one post that she wrote like a year into their relationship where she writes about feeling like she made a mistake by being with him.  because of how affectionate he was with their cat, it made her jealous and that those affections should be for her only because they were promised to be. really? SHE made a mistake being with him? HE’S the one left it all behind to move out here and be with her. my god. it made me angry. and then months later she wrote another post saying that she doesn’t deserve tom, because of all that he did for her, and how little she’s done in return. he did his best to support her, financially (since she didn’t work) and emotionally. and she, in her own words, admits to being an “ungrateful bitch.” well, at least she was self aware because HOLY FUCK.

and then in the next few posts, just months after admitting that tom deserves better (can’t disagree there!), she’s writing about how she’s “through” with him. she insults his body/weight (which made me so fucking angry and disgusted) and then she openly admits that she’s no longer in love with him. and i look at the date on that post: 2012. they didn’t break up until 2015. i mean, fuck. there were like no posts in there about how much she loved him. little to no posts about how hard he was working, how deeply she loved him, it was like she was never actually in love with him? or if she was it wasn’t long lasting. i mean, she definitely didn’t express it in her writing. she wrote plenty of deep romantic shit about her ex before tom. but nothing for thomas, who she was with for 5 years and who he devoted so much to. and it just...killed me to see that. to think that he wasn’t loved the way he deserved to be. why did they stay together so long. how did he survive. giving so much of himself...and perhaps getting nothing much in return? it just...made me hurt. but that’s my own fault. those words were never meant for my eyes. who’s eyes were they fucking meant for, i don’t know.

she was very clearly going through a lot emotionally, she was very depressed, which i understand. fuck, do i understand. depression is the worst fucking illness. i still struggle with it every day. but it became very clear to me reading her old posts that tom’s purpose in her life was....to fix her. she wanted him to fix her. she demanded him to fix her. and him moving out here for her with the purpose of “taking care of her,” must have meant that he went in thinking he could? god, that just made me sad. using someone else to...make you better...fix your mental health...make you “whole,” relying on them completely and becoming so overly dependent on them that if they aren’t EXACTLY PERFECT ALL THE TIME, you grow to resent them and blame THEM for your mental health issues...it just...my god it was so wrong and it was so unfair to tom. 

but it’s all in the past. this is all shit from 2010-2015. it’s been 4 years. they’re still good friends! cool! but not really because i guess after reading all of that, i just came to really...dislike her, to put it mildly. yeah, i’m okay with him being friends with his ex, as long as he’s okay with me not really being her biggest fan. i’ll probably make the :/ face when he mentions her, just as a reflex. but i’m okay with that. i’m sure she’s a better person now. she’s stable, happy, married, mature, etc. but i’ve been tainted. and it sucks. ‘cause what if someday he wants me to meet her or something? i’m going to be screaming internally the entire time. when i hear her name i just think about all that stuff. i think about how much work tom put into their relationship, how much he sacrificed, how much emotional energy he poured into it, physical energy working non-stop to support her, and she was in the meantime writing about being in love with her ex, writing shit about his “belly,” and getting pissy because of much he adores his cat.

i think to myself, my god...i would never want to be friends with a former partner after going through that. if i read my ex’s blog and they had stuff like that written about me i’d never want to speak to them again (though knowing me, i would’ve been reading their blog from day one and would’ve ended it as soon as i read “yes i’m still in love with my ex”). but maybe tom never read that stuff. if so, GOOD. it’s vile and depressing and he doesn’t deserve those words. but if he had read them and he’s okay with it? then, WOW. he’s a much stronger person than i ever could be. maybe he wasn’t okay with it at first, but they’re both better now in their own separate lives and it’s been years so he’s over it? i don’t know. maybe it doesn’t matter. 

i’m caring too much about things that don’t matter anymore. i just. fuck. i love tom. so much. and reading about that part of his past made me sad. i can’t help it. i love him, i want to take care of him. i’m feeling the hurt that i (assume) he felt. the weight of all of that. i’m feeling that pain on his behalf. it’s the “empath” coming out lmao. curse my empath superpower!!!11!!1 my main thought after reading all that shit though was...tom...i’m going to love you so good. i promise. the last thing i want to do is drain you emotionally or make you feel unappreciated. because i know what it’s like. to pour your heart and soul into something, someone, for a long time, and have them take and take and take from you and give you scraps, if not nothing, in return. it’s takes the life out of you. and i never want to do that to you.

i know sometimes i get quiet. cold. distant. i’m too in my head. i’m dealing with my own depression and trauma. but it’s me, it’s not you. it’s never anything you said or did. it’s me overthinking. assuming the worst and then feeling the worst. but it doesn’t last (it might seem like it lasts longer than it does just because i am too afraid to come back to your arms for fear that you’re annoyed with me. exhausted by me. i’ve pushed you and now you won’t want me back). the quiet space i use is me talking myself down. coming back to reality. coming back to where you are. because that’s where i want to be. i’m trying. so hard. because you deserve that. i won’t ever ask you to fix me because that’s not your job.  i will work hard, okay. it won’t be easy because i’m a mess too, riddled with flaws, but i love you. that i know. you won’t have to doubt that. but we’re a team. you can trust in that. we’re in this together. i promise that i’ll always support you as much as you support me.

#personal #maybe i should just have him read this lmao #fuck. i mean if i'm jealous of anything it's that she got to have your love first. and for longer. #but if i'm lucky i'll get to beat out that last record at least. can't change the past. can only focus on the future. #god that turned really mushy and reflective in the end. oops #to tom #i literally might link this post to him tomorrow because i want him to know these things. and i don't want him to think i AM- #just being petty and weird and 'no don't talk to ur ex >:( grr' when it's not really about that #but it's too nerve wrecking to say all of this in person :/ it won't come out right. my brain will implode on itself

[sullenchoir]

HOW THE MUN RUNS THEIR BLOG.

SPEED

Very, very sporadic. Especially during the school year and it all depends on how I’m feeling that day. I tend to feel under the weather a lot bc my health is in the toilet, and the general environment i live in is very draining on my everything. It also depends on the length! I can be good about one-liners, and answering asks, but anything else takes extra brain power and thus takes longer. Also, if I’m online posting ooc or reblogging aesthetics i might not want to actually rp, but do blog maintenance stuff

REPLIES.

Like I said above, takes me some time, sometimes i’m not in the mood to reply and just wanna be online to keep my queue full or read what everybody else is getting up to. Please be patient, there is nothing that will make me drop a thread, even a thread i’m interested in, than being pestered about my speed or guilted about not replying fast enough. That being said a reminder is nice!

STARTERS.

I’m not super fond of random starters, to me it’s like being handed a thing i didn’t say I wanted or asked for, and then I feel like a dick for not responding. If I like your starter call, it means I want one!! I rarely write them either/post starter calls just because of my current energy levels, HOWEVER please feel totally free to hop in on one of the random IC posts I make, those are basically opens that aren’t tagged as such!!! 

I also like to plot, and just skip ahead in our interactions with the plotting as a backdrop as opposed to plotting it all out THEN rp-ing it all out.

Greeters are different! Those are usually light, low pressure, and I think usually a good way to kick off stuff because so often I follow a blog/they follow me and we just shuffle trying to talk for months.

INBOX.

Always open for anybody for whatever. If I reblogged a meme or nah, if you’ve got something for me or Marion, anonymous or not, personal blog or rp blog, mutual or not, feel free. Go wild as long as you’re minding my rules.

SELECTIVITY.

OC vs Canon doesn’t matter to me, neither does if I’m familiar with the source material or not because at that point they’re just an OC to me, if I find the character compelling/interesting I’ll be interested in interacting. I do try to give everybody a chance tho, even if I don’t follow back!

WISHLIST.

You know, I don’t think I have a wishlist tag yet BUUUT

more negative relationships, honestly. Mari has been bugging me about making more enemies LMAO

A FATHER FIGURE. HE NEEDS ONE SO BAD. His damn complexes always get in the way

mari being called out on his shit more

slow burn found family

and slow burn in general god this boy is too emotionally intense i swear

....AU where Mari works in retail.

I want to go back and do some pre-development threads where Mari is like 18-20 and the absolute worst

thread where he’s at a party!

thats all i can think of for now but i’m sure there’s more

TAGGED BY : stole it TAGGING :  steal it from me, be gay do crimes

#off stage ⛤ | ooc #((god i hope this is comes across the way i intended))

[blueplanettrash]

What if Iverson is Lance's dad but didn't want to be apart of his life????

I just want to say right now; I went off track with this. But I loved the idea of Iverson being Lance’s dad. I wrote this quick, it’s bad, I’m sorry. I’m going to go write another story to make up for this now. I hope you enjoy anyway! ❤️

“I think that it’s time that we talked about some stuff,” Shiro said a short time after Sam departed back to Earth. They turned to him in question, it had been quiet after Sam left; the Holt’s didn’t exactly want to talk about much, Hunk was concerned with Lance and Lance himself was too emotionally drained from before Sam left.

“What about?” Pidge asked glumly. Matt stood beside her, gently rubbing her shoulder in comfort.

“It’s obvious that our lack of communication with our families is affecting us, I think that talking about them would help us bond further as a team and give us something to look forward to when we get back,” he suggested, eyes drifting over the team to gauge their reactions.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Shiro,” Allura said, breaking into their circle.

“I don’t know guys, wouldn’t it make us miss home more?” Hunk asked nervously.

“There’s no harm in trying, if it’s not beneficial to us we don’t have to try again,” Matt reassured them as the rest of them nodded in agreement.

“Excellent, I’ll get the mind meld ready,” Coran stated, twirling his moustache, ready to turn and set up the training room.

“No, no mind meld Coran, we’re going to do this the human way,” Shiro said. At that, the rest of the paladins relaxed, heaving out a relieved sigh.

“Wouldn’t it be more beneficial to use the mind meld? That way nobody would be able to hide anything from each other,” Allura asked in honest confusion.

“It’s not about keeping secrets from each other Princess, this is to help each other get our troubles off our chest, we’ll only share what we want to share,” Shiro explained as the paladins gathered around him closer. “Sometimes it’s better just to talk to people close to us to help with our feelings then let everyone just see what we’re thinking about,”

“Any complaints?” He asked the group. Nobody stepped up and Shiro nodded. “We’ll meet in the lounge in a few then,”

“Does anybody want to start?” Shiro asked looking around the circle. After a few moments of no one wanting to step forward, Lance silently raised his hand and scooted forward.

“Well, I have two brothers and two sisters, Mark and Maria are both older than me and Caleb and Sophie are younger than me, they’re also twins,”

“So you’re a middle child,” Pidge huffed with a smile. “It makes so much sense,”

“Shut up,” he pouted. “We live with my mom, grandpa and grandma and my dad stays at the Garrison,”

“Why is your dad at the Garrison?”

“He’s an instructor there,” he revealed somewhat hesitantly.

“Wait, really!? Did we ever have him?” Pidge asked, sitting up straighter. Lance sighed, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.

“I really don’t want to talk about it guys,”

“Why? Do we hate him or something? Are you guys not close? Hunk rambled

“No we are, just, when he was working we didn’t seem close, you wouldn’t know that we’re father and son,” he admitted quickly.

“I don’t remember any McClains though,” Keith hummed in thought.

“I applied under my mom’s maiden name,”

“Aww man, that’s not fair, we can’t even try to figure it out now,” Hunk whined.

“Maybe I don’t want you to figure it out,” Lance growled, curling up on himself.

“Back off guys, clearly he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore so leave him be,” Shiro cut in sternly. They sat back, mumbling out apologizes in Lance’s direction but he wasn’t listening anymore.

He didn’t want anyone on board to know who his dad was; pretty much everyone on board was very vocal about their hate for Iverson; especially Keith. He couldn’t exactly blame them but he was completely different when he wasn’t teaching.

Before he attended the Garrison he told his dad that he wanted to keep it a secret. He really wanted to make friends that weren’t just nice to him because he was the Commander’s son.

Obviously, he couldn’t be biased towards Lance either, just because he was his kid. He had heard many stories of people getting away with hideous things just because their parent was a high ranking official in some way or another. He remembered the week or so before he left for the Garrison, talking to his dad on the phone.

“Just because I’m the Commander, don’t think that you can get away with things. I’m going to treat you just the same as any student during class. You’re going to address me as Sir, just like any other student during class, got it?”

“Yeah, I got it,”

“Good,” he paused for a few moments. “I’m glad that you’re coming out here, I don’t get to see you as much as I want to,”

“We miss you too dad,”

Sure sometimes he could get a little hurtful during an assessment, but let’s be real; they were being drilled for the military. Military space travel to be exact, if he can’t take a little heat for something as dumb as not being able to work as a team, how would he deal with taking someone else’s admonishments. He would admit that the little stunt of threading the needle when he should have been taking a safer route was a bit irresponsible.

It didn’t change the fact that the last conversation he had with his dad was him yelling about his failure in the simulator. Usually, he would call him back and talk him through his mistakes after they were done but he was called away on other business; which happened to be Shiro crash landing in the middle of the desert.

He didn’t know what happened to him; it’s not like he kept tabs on Lance all the time. What if he saw him on the bike heading towards Keith’s shack? What if he saw him in the tent rescuing Shiro? What if he thought it was his fault that Lance went missing?

Every question that he asked himself bounced around in his head. What if mom blamed him too? Oh God, he wanted to go home now.

“Lance?” He shook his head and looked over at Shiro who was sending him a concerned expression. “Are you okay?”

“Actually I think I’m going to head in for the night, I’m not feeling too hot,” he sighed, pushing himself up.

“Well, okay then,” Shiro trailed off as Lance walked to the doors.

“Feel better Lance,” Hunk called as he walked over the threshold. He waved back at them as the doors shut before letting out a long sigh and walking back to his room.

It was never easy thinking about home. He missed his house, he missed his family, he missed his friends. It was even harder trying to think about what they were doing. He couldn’t imagine that his dad was taking his disappearance too well; he didn’t think that any of his family would be but he couldn’t imagine the pressure of keeping his post while he was going to be mourning as well.

He tried to push away as many memories as he could to solely focus on finishing the war and getting back home. It seemed that everyone shared the sentiment and point their nose to the grind to help Lotor secure his throne so they could leave everything to him.

Lance was happy to say that he had been wrong about Lotor and when they finally asked if they could go home; Allura and Lotor smiled at each other and dismissed them from their duty.

They weren’t ashamed to say that they had burst into tears at the statement. They always knew that they weren’t prisoners but at the same time, they felt like they had a responsibility to protect the universe when it couldn’t protect itself.

Allura ended up relinquishing the ownership of the lions to their paladins. At first, they were surprised at the turn of the events but she only smiled and said that she doubted that they would let them off the ship without them. Thankfully, he was back in Blue since Keith returned to the team on his mother’s advice.

“What are we waiting for!?” He suddenly burst out in excitement. At that they all ran down to the hangers, suiting up and readying their lions. They shot out into space, hovering around the Castle as Allura prepared a wormhole for them.

“I’m sad to see you go, paladins,” she admitted in the silence of space.

“Don’t worry Allura, I doubt this will be the last time that we meet,” Shiro said happily. The wormhole growing in front of the Castle.

“If you’re ever in our solar system, give us a call!” Lance cheered before ploughing into the wormhole. Just like the first time they went through, they appeared at the edge of Kerberos. Quickly Shiro patched into the Garrison frequencies and relayed their position and to not attack.

Unlike before, the Lions took their time getting back to Earth and the paladins watched in awe as they passed the planets. Being in their own solar system put everything they had just done in perspective. They never thought that they would be going anywhere near another solar system, they never thought that they would meet other intelligent life in their lifetime. They did so much more than that though, they became the figures that everyone depended on.

As the lions flew around each other, happily corkscrewing to the surface, they could see the instructors of the Garrison lined up outside the building. They didn’t have any weapons drawn, they just watched as they gently touched down to the ground. Even though they didn’t patch through, they expected maybe a tank or something to intimidate them or something.

“Is anyone else confused?” Keith asked as the lions crouched down, their maws opening to release their paladins.

“If they try anything, the Lions won’t allow it,” Shiro affirmed, stepping out of Black’s mouth, his helmet covering his head. The rest of them followed suit, lining up orderly in front of their lions.

Tears welled up in Lance’s eyes as he saw his father sternly looking down on them in assessment. It became too much and he swiftly pulled his helmet off and sprinted towards him with a cry.

“DAD!” He called, a faint wobble in his voice. It only took a split second for the realization to sink in and Iverson was bounding forward as well, his features slack in disbelief.

He crashed into the solid warm mass of his dad and clutched on for dear life.

“Lance? Is that really you?” He asked quietly, pulling back slightly to pat at his face as if someone were wearing a disguise to fool him.

“It’s really me, dad,” he confirmed with a small smile. His jaw clenched and his face scrunched up as he pulled Lance into a tighter hug. As Lance’s arms reached around to clutch at the familiar Garrison uniform, they dissolved into sobs. Their lost family had been returned to them and they couldn’t be more relieved.

“Where did you go?” Iverson asked, rocking the both of them gently as they tried to calm each other down. Lance sighed and snuggled further into the hug.

“It’s a long story dad,”

After he had calmed down and the paladins were given a place to rest, as expected the questions started. He didn’t think the first one would come from Keith though.

“I punched your dad?”

“You punched my dad,”

Stories Masterlist

#langst #lance mcclain #lance #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #takashi shirogane #shiro #keith kogane #keith #hunk garrett #hunk #pidge #pidge gunderson #allura #iverson #mitch iverson #iverson is lance's dad #fanfic

[letmeletmetrashyourlove]

Careful

Part Two of the Four Horsemen Collab! 

(gif credit dutsyharrington)

Summary: Reader struggles balancing her home life and school.

Welcome to the Four Horsemen collab fic! Each of us will be writing and posting parts of this story, but you never know who is going to post the next part, so keep your eyes peeled on all of our blogs!

Dot: @stevesdacre

Emma: @hairringtonsteve

Lidi: @letmeletmetrashyourlove

Rachael: @dacrethehalls

PART ONE

PART TWO (This one!!) 

PART THREE (tba)

PART FOUR (tba)

“Like I said, no worries.” He grinned at me. “So how was your lunch?” 

        “It was fine.” I lied, adjusting the papers in my arms and rifling through the pile to find my schedule.

He must’ve noticed my shaking hands as he placed his hand on top of mine,

        “Hey. Slow down.” He murmured, his voice smooth and even.

        “Sorry,” I breathed, “I just am still trying to figure out my schedule and where all my classes are and I don’t know which room I should go to for this class because it says the teacher’s classroom is number 137 but it says to go to the courtyard so I don’t know if I go to the courtyard or the classroom because I went to the courtyard and nobody was there so I left but now I can’t find the class-” I blabbered, my mind running a thousand miles per minute.

        “What did I say about slowing down?” He cut off.

        “Sorry.”

        “I was lost when I got here too, stop apologizing.” He reassured.

        “Sorry.”

He raised his eyebrows at me,

        “Shit. Sorr- Dammit.” I sputtered, feeling a burning blush rise up on my cheeks.

        “Anyway. It’s Mrs. Danver’s English class. She’s some old hippie, so if it’s nice out, they hold it in the courtyard, but since it’s winter they’re having it in her classroom. Two doors down,” He directed, pointing over his shoulder.

        “Thanks.” I sighed, “Sorry for running into you. Shit. Dammit. Fuck.” I stammered, shaking my head. Stop saying sorry. Stop talking. Just stop talking and walk down the hall. Don’t embarrass yourself any more.

Billy let out a soft chuckle,

        “No problem, doll.”

I scurried down the hall and into the classroom. The teacher gave her “Please make our new student feel welcome” speech before allowing me to introduce myself.

        “Hi. I’m Y/N. I’m from California.” I recited, all but sprinting to an empty seat before the teacher could say another word. I sat down beside a floppy-haired boy,

        “Hey, I’m Steve. Welcome to Hawkins.” He greeted, showing me a lopsided grin.

        “Oh, yeah. You bought my lunch earlier… Thanks again, by the way.”  I whispered, tucking my hair behind my ear and pulling out my notebook.

I struggled to focus on the board and what the teacher was writing, but at this point in the day, I was thoroughly drained. Emotionally and physically. The pit in my stomach from the night before never really left and the stress of uprooting my life was catching up with me after several weeks of trying to force it down.

Murmurings of my name from beside me pulled me from my trance,

        “Huh?” I questioned, looking over at the brown haired, brown eyed boy.

        “I said you should come to the basketball game tonight. Make some new friends.  Pretty much the whole school comes.” Steve suggested.

        “Oh, I don’t know. I might have to watch Matty tonight…”

        “Matty?”

        “Oh. Sorry.” I shook my head, “My little brother. He’s six.”

        “Bring him along! He’ll love it.” Steve smiled.

        “He’s not much of a sports kid,” I smirked to myself, recalling the last time he tried to play soccer, he wept when the kid from the other team took the ball away from him. He was far too sensitive for his own good.

        “Come on, it’s at 6:30. You should come!”

        “I’ll think about it.”

The final bell rang and I darted out of the building, for once embracing the winter breeze through my hair. I breathed in the frosty air, filling my lungs a few times as I tried to calm myself. I continued up the sidewalk.

When I arrived home, Matty was sitting on the front porch shivering. His arms were wrapped around himself in an attempt to maintain whatever body heat he had left.

        “Matty!” I hollered, rushing over to him.

        “D-d-d-doors locked.” He chattered through cold lips.

I let out a groan, digging into my backpack for my keys. The car wasn’t in the driveway, telling me that mom wasn’t home. Her new job didn’t start for another week, god knows where she had run off to. I pulled the boy to his feet and ushered him inside.  

        “Go take a hot shower,” I instructed.

He stripped off his layers, running into the bathroom on cold, stiff legs. I let out a sigh, hanging his damp hat and gloves above the radiator to dry out. I remained by it for a few moments, rubbing my chilled hands together before digging into my backpack.

I pulled out my biology ‘notes’. And by notes, I mean the few sentences I had managed to scribble about how… the human body reacts to bacteria? I think? To be honest, I could hardly read my own handwriting.

Thankfully, we had already gone over it at my old high school so I dug out my old notes and began my homework.  

Matty returned from the shower a few moments later, his skin flushed from the warm water. 

        “Better?” I asked.

        “Mhm.” He hummed, making a beeline to the pantry and digging out a bag of goldfish. He crammed his face full of the crackers, leaving crumbs all over the counter.

        “Hey. Slow down, piggy.” I teased.

        “The cold makes me hungry!” He declared through a mouthful.

        “You have any homework, kiddo?”

He nodded, running to his backpack and pulling out a red folder. He dug out three pieces of paper, one on math, one on spelling, and one that was an ‘about me’ page.

I sighed as I looked at the papers, missing the good old days where I only had to do basic addition and know how to spell four letter words. 

I grinned at him as I watched the gears turn in his head, holding up his fingers as he added up numbers. His face would light up as he realized what the answer was.  

I continued to work on my own homework until I felt him tug on my sleeve. I glanced over at him to see him staring at his about me page in confusion.

        “Need help, bud?”

        “How do you spell giraffe?” He questioned, pointing to the line on his page that asked what his favorite animal was. 

“G-I-R-A-F-F-E.” I spelled out. 

He scribbled it down on his paper before glancing back up at me.

        “What about this part? Should I write down daddy?” 

The question was who he lived with. He wrote down Mommy, Sissy, and Gizmo (his imaginary friend). 

There was still no word of if dad was going to join us in Hawkins. My bets were on no, but Matty didn’t need to hear that, not on his first day at a new school.

        “Yeah. Go ahead.”

After a few more moments of silence, he sprang up from his stool and put his homework back in his bag.

        “Can I watch some cartoons now!?” He begged, holding his hands in front of him in a praying position.

        “Go ahead, munchkin,” I responded.

He grinned widely before taking off into the living room.

The front door opened, revealing mom standing there with a couple of paper bags. From the shape of them, I could tell they held bottles of liquor. Her eyes had faded from their bright red color this morning and instead, her exhaustion appeared in the bags under her eyes. 

        “Hey, mama.” I greeted, offering her a pitiful smile.

        “Hi.” She murmured, setting the bottles down on the counter.

She silently reached for a glass from the cabinet, pouring herself an entirely too large glass of whiskey. Straight whiskey.

        “Uh. Mom, you might want to take it easy.” I suggested eyebrows cocked as she downed the glass in a few brief seconds.

        “Mm fine.” She hummed, pouring herself more.

        “Mom,” I warned, dismay written all over my face as she filled up another glass and didn’t bother to mix it with anything. I hadn’t seen her this bad in a long time. I wondered if the call she had gotten last night was confirmation that dad wasn’t coming to Indiana after all. I decided not to press her on the subject, the discussion not being one that should be had unless she was sober.

        “Mommy!” Matty screeched as he came flying in from the living room, his socked feet slipping on the dingy linoleum floor. He threw his arms around her middle, nearly knocking her off her feet.

        “Hey, baby. How was school?” She inquired.

        “Good! I met this really cool boy named Arthur! He likes Scooby Doo just like me!”

        “That’s great, buddy.” Mom offered a feeble smile, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

She and I had come to an unspoken agreement that we wouldn’t let Matty know what was going on with dad. To be completely honest, neither of us really knew what was going on with him either.

So we put on a brave face for Matty, he didn’t need to know the real reason that dad wasn’t here yet. Or that he might not ever show up. It was hard enough for the boy to be ripped away from his friends in California. The only home he’s ever known.

When mom found out that dad was cheating, she gave him a choice. She said that we’re moving out to Indiana for a fresh start, and he could either come with us or stay with the other woman, rip our family apart.

It had been months since this threat, and dad showed no signs of turning up in Hawkins anytime soon. He only called once a week, and only to talk to Matty. He kept telling him that he was gonna be here soon, but I just wished he would rip off the band-aid. Neither mom nor I could stand to do it. She didn’t want to accept that dad had made his choice and I couldn’t bear to be the one to break the news to Matty.

So mom started to drink every night, numb the pain and deny that dad was really gone. I recognized her struggle, but sometimes I just wanted to scream at her. Tell her that he was gone and she needed to pull herself together for Matty’s sake. He doesn’t need to see his mom getting drunk every night, hear her sobbing at two am, puking the whole morning from a hangover.

As the bottle of whiskey dwindled, so did mom’s capacity to pretend to be sober. She staggered into her bedroom before it was even five o’clock. I exhaled, calling it a night for my homework and tucking it back into my bag. I wandered into the living room where Matty sat on the couch watching cartoons. I sat down beside him, letting out a sigh as I watched the brightly colored characters go about their shenanigans.

        “Is mama okay?” He asked, looking up at me with apprehension.

        “Yeah, buddy. She’s just got a tummy ache.” I lied, ruffling his hair.

I glanced at the clock, rethinking Steve’s suggestion to go to the basketball game. It would do Matty some good to get out of the house, get him away from mom for a little while.

        “Hey, bud?”

He glanced up at me,

        “Wanna go to a basketball game with me?”

        “Basketball? You like basketball?” He asked, confusion all over his face.

        “No… I mean… I guess. A couple of my new friends play on the team.”

        “Oh…” He paused, looking back over to the TV as he evaluated his options. Stay home and watch TV or go out…

        “I’ll buy you whatever candy you want from the concession stand.” I bribed.

        “Hmm. Okay!” He exclaimed, surging to his feet and dashing to the door to slip on his tennis shoes.

         “Alright, kid. Pick your poison.” I instructed, picking up Matty so he could see over the counter. He placed his hand on his chin, deliberating his options for candy.

        “Can I get two?” He asked.

        “You can get one.”  

He pouted for a moment before deciding on Skittles. I paid the girl behind the counter before letting the boy slide off my hip and onto the floor. I clutched his hand as we entered the gym.

The team was already on the court warming up. I realized that Billy was also on the basketball team, running up and down the court with Steve.

        “Hey, are you Y/N?” A girl with rosy cheeks and dark hair asked as she bounded over to Matty and I.

        “Uh yeah… Hi…” I greeted.

        “Hey! I’m Nancy! Steve said you’d be coming and that I should keep an eye out for you.” She introduced, “Come on, I saved you a seat.”

        “Oh. That was nice of you.” I smiled.

Matty’s grip tightened on my hand as Nancy led us over to her second-row seat. In the front row were a bunch of kids, maybe in their early teens. Beside Nancy was a boy with sandy brown hair and an expression on his face that told me he’d rather be anywhere else.

        “This is Jonathan.” Nancy told me, “This is my little brother Mike. These are his friends, Dustin, Max, Lucas, and Will.” Each of the kids turned to wave at me.

I tried to keep their names straight in my head, but I knew I would likely forget by the end of the night,

        “I’m Y/N. This is my little brother, Matty. We just moved here from California.”

        “Max is from California!” Lucas beamed, nudging the red-headed girl on the shoulder.

        “What part of California?” I asked.

        “San Diego.”

A lightbulb went off in my head, recalling that Billy mentioned he was from San Diego.

        “Do you have an older brother?” I asked.

        “Yeah.” She replied.

The rest of the kids rolled their eyes and scoffed.

        “Billy,” Lucas growled.

         “The mullet headed prick.” Mike spat.

The game went by pretty quickly, although Billy had fouled out by the end of the second quarter. Hawkins got their ass beat, considering he was the only one making any baskets before he eblowed a kid in the face and nearly broke is nose. 

        “Thanks for letting us sit with you guys.” I smiled to Nancy, Jonathan, and the kids just as Matty pulled on my arm. I leaned over to listen to him as he cupped his hands around his mouth and leaned against my ear. 

        “I gotta go potty.” He whispered.

        “Okay, let’s go find the potty,” I murmured back, taking his hand and leading him out of the gym.

I waited outside the boy’s room, leaning my back against the wall. A figure appeared beside me, resting his hand on the wall behind me. I glanced up to see Billy smirking at me.

        “Enjoy the game?” He questioned, resting his hand on my upper arm and essentially trapping me against the wall.

        “I did… But I think you were playing football instead of basketball.”

        “Oh come on, those guys were totally faking it.” He chortled, passing his tongue over his bottom lip as he grinned down at me

        “Even the one with the nosebleed?” I rebutted.

Billy let another laugh, glancing over his shoulder as the rest of the team exited the locker room. Steve and I met eyes momentarily and the smile on his face dropped as he approached us.

        “Hey, is he bothering you?” Steve asked, looking between Billy and I.

        “If anything, Harrington, I would say you’re bothering us,” Billy countered.

        “I wasn’t talking to you, shit brains.” Steve snapped, stepping in closer to Billy and holding up an accusing finger to him.

        “No. He’s not bothering me.” I piped up, not wanting to be caught in the middle of whatever… this… was.

        “Are you sure?” Steve pressed.

        “You heard the lady, buzz off.”

Steve gave us another look up and down before heading off to talk with the group of kids that was sitting across from us.

        “What was that about?” I asked.

        “Nothing. Harrington… he’s… he’s just got a jealousy problem is all.”

        “Of you? What’s he got to be jealous of?” I teased, feeling an odd twinge of confidence hit me.

He started to reply when I heard Matty’s little voice from behind me. I stepped away from Billy to take Matty’s hand. He hid behind me as he stared up at Billy.

        “This is my brother.” I introduced.

        “Hey, little man. I’m Billy.” He greeted.

        “Hi.” Matty murmured, peering out from behind my legs.  

        “Don’t be shy, bud.” I encouraged.

        “What’s your name?” Billy kneeled down on Matty’s level.

        “Matty.” He replied.

          “Nice to meet you, Matty.” Billy smiled, holding his hand out for Matty to shake.

He cautiously put his small hand in Billy’s larger one. He gripped my brother’s hand in both of his, giving him a gentle shake.

        “You have fun tonight?”

Matty nodded,

        “It was awesome because Y/N bought me Skittles!” He perked up, gradually drifting out from behind me.

        “Skittles!? That is awesome!” Billy exclaimed.

I glanced up to notice every person left in the hallway was gawking at us. They all quickly looked away when they noticed I was observing them. Soft murmurs started as they went back to their conversations, but their eyes still darted from their friends back over to us.

Billy and Matty continued their discussion, but all I could focus on was the chattering.  What was it about Billy that made heads turn? Sure, he’s hot as hell. That can’t be denied, but there was something else.

Something that made Mike call him a prick. Something that made Steve ask if he was bothering me. Something that made the thundering hallway go silent when Billy approached Matty. And I couldn’t even begin to guess what it was.

        “Alright, kiddo. We better get home.” I sighed, shoving Matty’s hat on over his disheveled hair.

We both waved goodbye to Billy before starting our trek through the cold and to the car. I opened the door to the back seat, helping Matty strap in before closing the door and rounding the car to the driver’s side.

        “Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?” Steve asked, his breath turning to fog in the cold air.

        “Yeah, sure,” I replied, wrapping my scarf tighter against my face as the frigid breeze nipped at my skin.

        “Just… uh… Watch out for Billy, okay?” He murmured, resting his gloved hand on my upper arm.

        “What do you mean?” I questioned, tilting my head.

The honking of a car horn interrupted our conversation. Steve whirled around to look behind him. 

        “I’m coming, shitheads! Calm down!” He hollered at what I assume was his car. It was full of the kids I sat with during the game

        “He’s… He’s trouble, okay? And I… I just don’t want you getting hurt… finding that out the hard way.”

        “I think I can handle myself, Harrington.” I retorted, crossing my arms.

        “I know… I’m not saying you can’t.” He smirked, “But… Just… Be careful, okay?”

         “Okay…”

TAG LIST: (If you’ve asked to be on Emma’s tag list for this series, I’ve tagged you here! Message me if you want to be tagged and hopefully I'm not a useless bitch and I actually do it.) 

@dokyumkyum   @lomlbarnes   @veryweirdintrovert  @gaiasambuci  @wreak--havok    @vanitysfairr   @princessnancy @stopitmike  @imagine-lilith  @stuoiesimba   @ambeazyyy @steveharrigntons @hazeofeleven  @bananer62 @hahaharrington @kaitlinlexiepxrrini @flieformybrain @xanaphorax

#lidi writes #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove/reader #billy hargrove one shot #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove fan fiction #billy hargrove fics #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fan fic #billy hargrove fan fics #billy hargrove fanfics #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fic #steve harrington/reader #steve harringtonxreader #steve harrington headcannons #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington headcannon #billy hargrove headcannon #billy hargrove headcannons #billy hargrove headcanon #billy hargrove headcanons

[gibbyj]

goodnight and goodbye handsome

7.13.21 / 2:21 am

fuuuuuck i’m high!!’ turns out if you don’t smoke all day you get literally blasted. anyways hahaha, that’s not the point is it?

if you’ve gotten this far, i assume you’re reading this. honestly, i assume you’re reading this anyway. maybe not tonight, or tomorrow, but for some reason you’ll come. in a few days, you’ll visit my page.

here’s the thing, i know why i visit you. i’m in love with you. it’s really that simple. i tell people that, and i think that. deep down, i fear it may not be true. i’m terrified i’ve wasted years of my life craving a fling. and yet, deeper down, i’m drawn to you. i’m trapped in your fucking wave.

that’s a song you told me to listen to. do you remember why we broke up? hahahaha, i guess that’s a dumb question. in this world, everyone genuinely has their own truth. their own steps they’ve walked in this world to get to the version of themselves and their surroundings in their mind. [side note: that’s pretty fucking poetic right? i came up with that in 10 seconds high as a kite, please start writing again? i miss it, the world misses it. what happened to your notebook? ik you have ideas in there]

anybays, here’s my full version of why i genuinely believe you broke up with me. 1) you had a crush on her, and you were attracted to her 2) you were hurt bc i had been in texting him 3) we were fighting a lot 4) we had been getting bored 5) i was kinda petty and a bitch 6) i had been lying to you (and the world) for most of my life 7) i had been intentionally distancing myself and avoiding you 8) i’m SURE things i’m forgetting

i’m sure that’s incomplete, and perhaps incompatible with your version of events. i had also already broken up with you, that was a major factor. i used to point this out to our friends, and anyone who would listen to me, that you followed a similar path. when was the last time you were genuinely single, 14? 15? i don’t point that out to say that you weren’t able to grow, i’ve spent most of my grown life in love. but you always had someone lined up. you didn’t get rid of me until you had someone else to kiss.

i did that too, but i got bored. i really thought you would get bored. and i’m sorry, i wish i didn’t wish that. every part of me wants to have been able to let you go after i had written my first goodbye. but here’s the thing. you responded, quickly. and i’m sorry, im genuinely sorry for all of the times i reached out to you. im sorry for trying to add you on snapchat. im sorry for messaging you when i thought you were trying to talk to me. and im really, really, sorry for blacking out and texting you.

but here’s the, thing. you responded. you respond quickly. why do you check on me? seriously, why? sometimes i think, probably more like hope, you’re here bc i look good in my pictures, bc obviously that’s my intention. but why do you talk to me? and no, you dont. that’s really hard to explain to the people closest to me. no, we don’t talk, he like subtweets me? but i swear i’m not crazy. no really, they’re original posts, what else could they be?

and i dissect them, over and over again. i listen, i think about it, i picture you singing in your car, or smiling with your eyes closed. i think of you in your bed, thinking of me, and i don’t know why. because you don’t talk to me, you don’t seem to like me, and you don’t seem to be unhappy.

i drove past your house tonight. and in my FUCKING defense, it’s an alternative to my gd house, no one seems to understand that it’s literally like not a detour and i get home in the same amount of time. but i really don’t know why i do it. because i’m never happy. it’s never what i want. here’s what i want, i want you walking to your car, and seeing me drive past, i’d wave, slow down, and say hi. and finally ask for a goddamn explanation.

but that’s never going to happen. and i have to accept that. that’s never going to happen. i’m never going to rest my head in your neck, or hold your hand, or kiss you, or hug you, or laugh with you, or sing, or drive, or talk to you ever again. and that makes me so sad.

as i write that, i can feel the blood draining from my arms, and my stomach fell. i will probably go to sleep tonight, and even though i’ll distract myself with cormac mccarthy, i’ll be sad tonight.

my grandmom died on thanksgiving. i’m sure you don’t remember, but she was my best fucking friend. i’m not gonna talk about that, but i bring it up to say that if i’m being honest, my bones feel the same now as they did then.

we’re dead. the glimmer of me that believes in us, that picture going to concerts, seeing you drunk, dancing and laughing and singing and kissing and fucking and driving and watching movies and making jokes and living life together is gone. it’s dead. it has to be dead.

i went to barnes and noble today, and i looked for your car in the parking lot. i went to ocean city, and i scanned the top of the crown looking for your smile. and then i went to hammonton.

i got drinks with an ex tonight, don’t worry it wasn’t you. we have nothing in common, but he’s a good friend to me, and he’s really supportive and is always there for me, which tbh isn’t a common trait among my good friends. we talked, and it was pretty boring, but it was nice. and i asked him wtf you were doing. what it meant. why. if i should drive past your house.

he said no, i shouldn’t. he didn’t understand why i would choose to hurt myself that way. i showed him your page, and he chuckled a little. i dissect your feed, i visit you in the morning and the evening. every original post a message. a reaction or a plea in some way.

he told me i was crazy, which he isn’t wrong about. and the funny thing is, the truth is probably somewhere in the middle. sometimes, i fear i’m just a joke. maybe you guys watch me together, listen to my songs and laugh at the desperation between the lyrics. but, i really don’t think that’s it. you’re better than that. you’re nice, people don’t know that, to be honest you don’t always show that, but you have such a pure heart. and i don’t think you’re that gross.

maybe i’m wrong, and gd if i am gg sis you really found your person. but i don’t think im talking to both of you. i really, really think im talking to you. sometimes, it really feels like im talking to you. like you’re next to me, if i close my eyes, i can almost feel your hands on me.

but, im not. you’re in that deer town, and im in the college court. we’re thirty miles, and three years apart from one another. we’ve grown and changed and flipped upside down from those kids hanging out at the voorhees mall.

and so im left to figure out by myself why you’re here. why despite you being far and happy, you come to haunt me. you know, most exes emotionally haunt their ex, not legitimately leave unnecessary and misleading breadcrumbs.

i have a whole slew of degrees now, so i’ve come to my best version of a guess: you’re filing your insurance card. and you know what? four hours ago, i really would have been okay with that. i would have dated and waited and dated and waited until you came crying back, because you were my person. you were my goddamn dream boy. and i couldn’t believe i had you.

i let you go so quickly. and goddamn julia you didn’t let anyone go. here’s what i realized: anyone can fight for anyone. if you wanted me as badly as i want you, you would be here. here, here. but you’re not. instead, she’s there.

and i finally realized, what’s the goddamn point? i don’t know if you realized bro but i’m literally a gd catch. also, tbh i’m a lady w 38ddds so i can laid truly anytime i need to. and more importantly, i’m funny. i’m nice. im kind and i’m compassionate and caring and giving and smart as hell and really fun to hang out with. im a great singer, and a really fun dancer. and guys realize that.

there are so. many. guys like you. and i don’t mean that to be rude, trust me i didn’t know that this morning. but there are funny guys out there. there are guys who will go crazy when i take my clothes off and call me when i’m sad, and they’ll be happy to do it. they’ll be excited to be with me, i won’t be a back up.

and so, i’m giving myself that opportunity. i’m letting myself let go of you, to bury you and us alongside the memories i’m grateful for. so thank you, for teaching me all of my favorite bands. for making me laugh, and holding me when i needed you to. for kissing me, for loving me, and for reminding me that even now, im still a little special.

but i’m not going to sit around and wait for you to react. im not going to check on your songs, or your liked posts, or drive past your goddamn house. im not going to obsess over what you’re trying to say, because if you wanted to say it, you would. you wouldn’t hide it in spongebob songs, you would just message me. you would say hi.

but you dont, and deep down, i know you wont. god, even now, i want this to turn you inward. but when it doesn’t, or if it does and you still want nothing to do with me, i’m not gonna cry. because i really, really, really believe i’m gonna be okay.

i hope you’re okay too. i really, really wish you nothing but the best in this world. whatever this world brings you, i hope it comes with happiness, the ability to find joy in any situation, laugh at the small things. i believe in you, i hope you learn to believe in yourself.

#with this goodbye i change my life