#just not been doing well lately and like. ik it probably won’t be that hard to fix that but the idea of just.

[randomgurl2326]

Ignorance Is Bliss Pt. 1

A/N: Thank you to the beautiful Anon for requesting this fic. This has been one of my delusions that help me sleep at night. So, may I please introduce you to the ‘she fell first but he fell harder’ trope that we all love. With, of course, Ema and Mickey helping and hoping for them to get together💚💜

As the h/c girl closed her locker, Ema was yet again tired of the ongoing “will-they-won’t-they” of the l/n girl and the Spindell boy. “All I’m saying is, maybe you should tell him because you’ve been hopelessly in love with him since fifth grade.”

Y/N pointed at Ema and said with a cheeky smile, “ah no, sixth grade, get it right. Also, there is no way in hell that I’m going to tell him, alright?”

Worth that the Winslow best friend sighed, and the two best friends walked to French class.

Meanwhile with a Mickey and Spoon…

“…a-and she has this thing where whenever she’s talking about something she likes that she does with her hair, y’know, like this,” the rambling Spindell boy said while demonstrating what his object of infatuation does with his own hair, not quite show ing it right.

Mickey chuckles and shakes his head, “y’know, telling her how you feel would be a great idea. Maybe, I don’t know at the park or something. Oor-9r, hear me out, just telling her would be nice.”

“Oh, dear Mickelous, that is simply just not possible. You see, you cannot simply fathom how much platonic-ivory oozes from her when we hang out together. Also, Y/an does not like the park because of children and the grass makes her itch; it would probably have to be during the night while under the stars.”

“Oh yeah, totally platonic when she looks at you like you actually hung the stars in front of her. Just like that show she likes with Azipy- Aziry-, nope, can’t say it.”

Arthur sighs, “Mickey, my bestest friend in the universe, she doesn’t like me and she never will, okay? Now come on, we’ll be late for wood shop and I’m looking forward to making a bird house that can stand this year.”

As they walked down the hall to their next class, Mickey sighed and started to formulate a plan and text Ema:

M: we need to come up with a plan for these two — sent at 10:45 a.m.

E:

Ik, I can’t take it anymore — sent at 10:46 a.m.

Meet me in the MILF room after lunch, well conspire there — sent at 10:48 a.m.

M:Ok, and btw, I hate that name — sent at 10:50 a.m.

Also y do u sound like an evil genius?? — sent at 10:50 a.m.

E:

Ikr, horrible name. And, idk, I just do sound like one ig — sent at 11:00 a.m.

Meet u after lunch — sent at 11:01 a.m.

After Lunch…

“Okay, now, that was a rough forty-five minutes to get through,” Mickey said this as him and Ema walked into the abandoned boiler room, a.k.a. The MILF Room, a.a.k.a. The Spindell Spot.

As the Winslow girl sat down on the couch she managed out, “yeah, that was unnecessarily hard. It’s like they want to look into our souls and have us tell them everything. Y/N really needs to stop looking like she’s about to run over a dog.”

“It’s seriously out of hand how much information they can try and gauge out of us. Spoon is the worst. He literally has that look on his face where he look-“

“Looks like he’s the most innocent and pure thing on the world? Yeah, I’ve seen that look. He’s literally the devil in disguise,” Ema then pulls out her laptop to take notes on how to get the two oblivious, love-sick, diabolic, little love birds, “so, you ready to do this?”

Mickey smiled and sat down next to his other best friend, “ready to finally get them to stop pining over each other and being self destructive? Hell yeah.”

And so, the two of the four best friends created a plan to get the other half together.

“…by the way, when do I have to get you and Rachel together,” the Bolitar boy than got smacked by a book by the alt girl and continued with their scheming.

To be continued…

A/N: I don’t know how I feel about this, but I want to make my little anon chalupa(and my readers proud) so I’m doing this. Please give me feedback on how I could improve the is one.

#arthur spindell x reader #spoon spindell x reader #arthur spindell #spoon spindell #mickey bolitar #ema winslow #ema winslow x reader #queer #harlan coben’s shelter #shelter #x reader #shira x hannah #shira/hannah #harlan cobens shelter #rachel caldwell #Whitney renna #Buck Renna #female #freddie mercury #chalupa #thank you anon #thank you

[upsidedownwanderer]

the demons won . crossover episode featuring a friends traveler

It’s hard to tell the time in the afterlife because it’s constantly night. There are clocks hidden around floors, but they all give different times, so many guests have a warped perception of it. Me Avi decided that despite the fact it’s constantly dark out and they don’t need to eat, it’s time for lunch. He reaches for a rotary dial phone somewhere in his room, spinning the dial and waiting patiently for someone to answer.

> Hello?

The tiniest smile crept onto Avi’s face. Apparently there was another “traveler” roaming through the hotel, which explained why Ik would start entirely off topic conversations with him. The two eventually met and stayed in touch, although they don’t chat often. Even if they didn’t talk, the thought of someone going through the same experiences made him feel… better.

> “Trav, meet me near the balcony in around 10 minutes. We’re going to have lunch together.”

> …Wait, lunch?—

Avi dropped the phone on the bracket, and began buttoning up his shirt before leaving his room. Ik has explained many times before that he’s fixed the power of the elevator, but because of past experiences he decided that he won’t ever touch it again unless absolutely necessary. So how does he get there? Crawling through the ventilation.

A little dusty and strange, but better than potentially being thrown around like a ragdoll.

That entire adventure probably took a little more than ten minutes, but it didn’t matter because Me Avi was there first anyway. The balcony floor was.. well, it’s self explanatory—a really large outside area akin to a balcony. Since everything was underground, the sky was instead panes of glass with fake stars slid behind it, but it was still relaxing. Avi left two plates of toast and two cups of coffee on a table, sitting on one side while waiting for the other wanderer.

Traveler eventually arrived at their destination, though was visibly confused by the whole ‘lunch’ ordeal.

> I hope I’m not late?

> “No, no. You’re right on time.”

(art by @fiowersfield / left is trav, right is me avi)

He motioned for them to sit down, and as they did he began to start up casual conversation. It wasn’t much, mostly “how was your day?” or “so what do you do in your free time?” since neither of them actually knew how to talk to a person. Occasionally the topic strayed into the past, but they both agreed that was a rant for another day.

Avi took the final sip of his coffee before realizing that Trav didn’t eat at all. He understood why since it wasn’t needed, but he felt bad just keeping them there while he ate.

> “Sorry, guess I just wanted to talk to someone. It’s been a while.”

> No no, you’re fine. I just don’t really want to eat it.

> “…Mind if I have it?”

Traveler smiled with their eyes.

> Sure.

#upsidedownwanderer

[ijemmaokafor]

Winter is Coming (with @fleetsummers)

Fleet and Jemma organize the pantry, indulge in some gossiping, and philosophize on matters of the heart.

Fleet: -bounds in from outside, pink-cheeked and bright-eyed- Jemma! Sorry, sorry, I think I'm a little late, I got in a tiny bit of a leaf heap situation with Luna. -laughs, brushing stray leaves off his coat and then strips off his gloves and scarf- It's still kind of weird whenever something normal happens. Like running through raked-up leaves with a dog.

Jemma: Don’t you ever apologize for a bit of frolicking. Besides, it gave me time to get uuuuus -she retrieves the item from her bag with a flourish- a new scale! It’s got a tare button and everything!

Fleet: -his eyes light up and he claps, clasping his hands as he looks at the scale with hearteyes- No! OH my gosh, that's gonna save us so much time. And math. I'm good at math, don't get me wrong, but I'm also lazy.

Jemma: I don’t know it’s max capacity, so we should probably save it for the small stuff, but I’ve asked the raiders to look for one of those hanging scales, like in grocery stores? But bigger, if possible. Gonna need to raid a butcher shop soon now that we’ve got a real livestock operation.

Fleet: Stop, stop, you're making me wanna make a shopping list. Do we ... can we do that? For the raiders? Or is that frowned upon?

Jemma: DO IT. They won’t be able to get all of it, or something might have to wait. It’s kinda up to the head guy to prioritize things, and he does right by the town so we trust him to make those calls. But I’ve got an in with him that I’m not averse to exploiting.

Fleet: -pauses in pawing at the scale, a little taken aback- Really? We're talking about Isaac here, right? The one who bit my dad?

Jemma: -tempering her excitement- Yes. Not his finest moment. Is he alright? Your dad?

Fleet: -is quiet for a moment- The thing is, Jemma ... I kind of understand why Isaac got mad. I don't think Daddy's exactly the sort of man that you'd want going after a woman you care about. It's just Ike didn't have to hurt him like that, so savagely.

Jemma: I don’t think anyone would disagree with you there. Probably not even Ike, if he were able to be objective about it. Ike on his own has a lot of demons. Add his complicated history with Mayra to the mix and…well it’s no excuse. He usually has raiding as an outlet. He hasn’t had that outlet in a long while. Your dad just said that wrong thing at the right time.

Fleet: I know my dad's far from a saint. Even Uncle Sol didn't want to go see if he was okay after he got hurt. -toys with his scarf, thinking about it- I mean he did go, after I poked him a little, and that's probably not great of me because they have their own history together and I'm sure Uncle Sol has valid reasons for being estranged, but ... look at where we are now! Look what we've survived! I want them to move past it all!

Jemma: -she smiled, a little sadly- Maybe they will, some day. And hey, if Sol went and saw him ‘cause of you, that’s a hell of a testament to how much he cares about you.

Fleet: -frowning slightly, looking down as he folds his scarf up- It's probably hard for other people to understand why I'm so protective of Daddy since it's almost like he...enjoys riling everyone up. But I think it's just a show, y'know? Deep down I think he wants to belong, it's just being rejected outright if he shows how needy he is would mess him up worse than existing as some kind of pariah. I dunno. Maybe that doesn't make sense.

Jemma: It makes a lot of sense. You been told before that you have high emotional intelligence?

Fleet: No! I've been told before that I'm high maintenance, does that count? -laughs, shoving his scarf and gloves aside- I come from a big family so I'm used to all the work, y'know, all the compromises and stuff to get along. Did you? Come from a big family? Or is it working with the public that makes you so diplomatic?

Jemma: -pulling out her notebook and pen- Working in local government is what did it. I was an only child, and I was lucky to have a really level-headed family. Not calm, exactly, but…gracious. Gave each other a lot of grace, immediate forgiveness, that kinda thing. Didn’t have a lot of need for mediating, y’know? Did you like the big family thing?

Fleet: -pushes up his sleeves, taking out his own notebook and pencil as they're getting down to business, as well as one of their prized calculators- I loved it. So many cousins, and then family friends on top of that who were basically cousins, and aunties, and uncles, and everything. It was messy but I always had an audience and a shoulder to cry on. -sucks on the tip of his pencil, looking at Jemma thoughtfully- It shows. The graciousness. I don't mean this in a dismissive way but you seem sorta ... unburdened.

Jemma: I always wanted siblings. I had tons of friends all through school, so I was never without company, but I was SO jealous of my friends with brothers and sisters. -reflects for a moment- I try to let go of as much as I can. Make room for carrying the good stuff with me. Easier said than done sometimes.

Fleet: I'm nosy. You might have noticed by now. But! -tosses his head a little- You are, as we just discussed, a very gracious person so I'm taking full advantage of that. -smiles, reaching over to hold her hand for a moment- Plus if we're gonna be doing a job as persnickety as this one together, I think we should feel comfortable with questioning each other! I get extremely shirty about how to categorize certain things and I fight with claws.

Jemma: Oh, I love a workshop mentality, by all means, reconfigure our systems if you’ve got ideas for improvement. But you don’t have to bring out the claws, I rarely put up enough of a fuss to warrant them.

Fleet: Really? Okay, good, I'll take you at your word on that. -heads towards one of their shelves- I thought I might be stepping on people's toes doing things my way but honestly, every here's very agreeable. Except Zack. But I think I found my own way around him.

Jemma: -raises her eyebrows as she starts making a chart- Oh, do tell. He’s one of the tougher nuts to crack around here.

Fleet: -in between reporting back on their stocks for her chart- We got off to a rocky start, that's for sure - I didn't think I'd get bullied for being queer the minute I got to town! -he snickers at the ridiculousness of it, clearly unbothered- I think Zack isn't used to people not being afraid of him, but understanding what he's capable of. He doesn't scare me but I know what he could do if he's pushed. It's a delicate balance. Gotta get a boy too puzzled by you to keep on trying to threaten you.

Jemma: -she hums in laughter to herself- Well then, maybe we’ll just make you the town Zack-whisperer. Between you and that ex-wife of his, it sounds like he’s in good hands. Nobody else has given you trouble, though?

Fleet: Nooooooo, I'm a ray of sunshine, nobody has any beef with me. Maybe they will with his House of Usher ex, but that's none of my business. -trots over to Jemma- Level with me. Has anybody in town ever given you trouble?

Jemma: Nothing serious. Council meetings have involved spats sometimes. I’m a big proponent of getting rid of the precinct protocol, so that causes occasional head-butting. Your dad flirted with me a little more than I cared for, but it seemed harmless. The only person I ever had genuine trouble with got booted from town ages ago, for unrelated reasons. So nobody these days!

Fleet: -hangs on her word, eager for the gossip- Who is it who likes the precinct protocol? Ermano and Isaac? Dr. Brandon doesn't seem the type. My dad flirting with you - that I believe. I hope he hasn't tried anything since then. He seems a little ... -shifts, measuring this out- ...fixated on Mayra. Has nicknames for her, got this healing salve from her....

Jemma: I think it’s mostly that they’re just comfortable with it. No one is opposed to another option, it’d just take a lot of work and it’s taking a while to convince them to make it a priority. -she winces a little at the mention of Mayra- That seems like potential trouble. Not to meddle or anything, but she’s awfully vulnerable right now. And no disrespect to your dad, but Cole seems just the type to foster all her bad habits

Fleet: -pushes in a little closer to Jemma- That's what I'm worried about. I don't know if she's overly trusting, or if she thinks my dad's attractive, or she thinks she's just being nice and helping him out, but it's ... it could be trouble. Maybe I should talk to her. Maybe it would have more of an impact coming from me, because I'm his son and I love him.

Jemma: My guess is equal parts trying to be helpful and lowkey attracted to him. But if you talk to her, maybe be gentle about it? She’s not one to be told what to do.

Fleet: -breathes out, gratefully- Thank you. That's the best possible advice. This isn't something I wanted to really have to try and find somebody to talk to about, who wouldn't act like Daddy's already committed a crime right off the bat.

Jemma: -she shrugs- I’m a woman dating a guy with a propensity to rub people wrong. I’m all about benefits of the doubt.

Fleet: Yeah. What's, uh ... what's that about, anyhow? -holds up his hands for a minute- Not trying to be confrontational, believe me, considering the Zack of it all. But I think mine's a little more to do with vanity. I'm horribly full of myself.

Jemma: I love the guy. Our first interaction was kind of insanely vulnerable. He’s shown me his soft underbelly and…and I love him. Can’t help it. Wouldn’t want to if I could.

Fleet: -chews this over for a few moments- I've never felt that way with a lover, insanely vulnerable. Physically sometimes but that was the point. Never emotionally. I always went for older men who were emotionally unavailable because then I didn't have to worry about their feelings. -grimaces, thumbing his nose- Kind of obvious that I have daddy issues, that's unavoidable, but at least I figured that out early.

Jemma: Sometimes that makes all the difference--just knowing what your issues are gonna be. The emotional stuff is my favorite part, truth be told. Even when that means heartbreak, I just can't pass it up.

Fleet: You're braver than I am, Miss Okafor. -shakes his head, going back to the shelf- Maybe someday it'll seem worth the risk to me. But not now. Right now my heart stays in its shellac.

Jemma: Nothing wrong with that. But all that talk you were doing about reconciling and making the most of the end of the world? Seems like that heart of yours is already eager to be put to use.

Fleet: -pauses, then turns to look at her- Okay, you are reaaaaaally good at this. Anybody ever tell you you have astronomical emotional intelligence?

Jemma: -full-on belly-laughing- Yeeeaaahh, it was a self-selling point on my resumes back in the day. Believe me, I can verge into preachiness with it, I've had more than one friend remind me they wanted a vent session, not a therapy session. But it comes in SUPER handy nowadays.

Fleet: -laughing too, distracted from what he's doing- PLEASE tell me you used it as a humblebrag! I love a good unrepentant humblebrag. But seriously, though - this really is the time for it. Have you found that? Like, your most exaggerated traits seem almost mild now because everything else is so amped up? It makes me wonder just how OTT some of the people in town were normally!

Jemma: -nodding aggressively, then patting his arm- Y'know actually, my favorite thing to look for in people was how into the whole rat race they were before everything went down. Like sure, life has gotten objectively way harder and worse, in a lot of ways. I don't blame anybody that misses the things that used to bring them comfort. But in some folks, you can almost watch them, in real-time, totally come to life in this new reality. There's a guy named Doug who used to run a hedge fund, dude was almost a billionaire, but it turns out his great peace and passion is water filtration. The guy's obsessed with charcoal and experimenting with ash. He never would have known!

Fleet: -repeats, solemnly- He ever would've known. I'm kinda looking forward to discovering what I never would've known about myself. I'm starting off small, I guess - branching out the kind of guys I'm into. I wouldn't have done more than glance at Clint before, since he's undeniably cute, but now I'm going on an honest-to-god date with him.

Jemma: Clint!? Quiet bayou Clint? Oh, now he must've taken a shine to you to come out of his shell like that. Good for him. Good for you! -sighing with a smile- This is all a shit show in so many ways. It's easy to forget that here behind the walls, with all the safety. And it's not a smart to forget it. But, it's also kind of a gigantic gift.

Fleet: Maybe that's my thing. Sniffing out diamonds in the rough, at least when it comes to paramours. -giggles a little, considering that word that had puzzled his uncle- It's probably bad that now that I'm here I've completely switched off the part of my brain that thinks about that kind of survival skills, for past the walls. -makes a determined face- I'll give myself till the end of the year to purposely not think about it and then I'll go back to being more mindful.

Jemma: It’s not bad, honey, you’re still very new to the whole concept of safety we’ve got here. Enjoy it while you can, there’s always a reality check around the corner.

#with: Fleet #fleet001

[awanderingmuse-fandom]

hi i just wanted to say i LOVEEEEE ur fic “christmas parties, confessions and cozy death traps”. honestly, I’ve read it too many times to count. i was also wondering if u know anything about likegallow’s fic “where the shadows meet the sea”, i miss it so much and have basically been checking it back every few months; has it been abandoned or is the author just on a long hiatus?? obviously, u do not have to answer but i’m only asking because ik that u guys correspond sometimes :)

Hi Anon! 

Omg! Thank you so much for this wonderful ask! I am so glad you enjoyed Christmas Parties, Confessions, and Cozy Death Traps. We had a lot of fun writing it!

I passed this on to likegallows and BobInTheComments and they both say thank you as well.

As far as Where the Shadows Meet the Sea goes, likegallows said that: “ I’ve actually been thinking about it a lot recently, soooooo I may dive back into that pond, if I can make my scattery brain do it’s thinnnnng.” 

It’s hard as a reader to have to wait for an update. I have several fics from as late as 2012 that I’m still hoping miiiiight update, maybe, if I just wait a liiiiittle longer. Maybe they will, maybe they wont. It sure won’t stop me from reading what is there till the end of time. And dreaming about what could come next.

From a writers perspective writing is kind of about the journey and not the destination. Especially for fanfiction, where we’re doing it for fun. It’s about getting to think about the characters and write them in funny, exciting, or terribly angsty scenarios for our own amusement.

I’ve tried writing just to put out content and found that I for one burn out super fast in that mindset. It’s a lot better for the writer if we write when we can as we can on what our brains currently want to work on. Especially if it’s fanfiction that often gets written nestled in the background of a busy life. 

I know that “it’s been on my mind” probably isn’t the answer you’re looking for, but it’s often the most true answer on a story like this. I myself have several PJO stories that are “on my mind”. And I have every intention of finishing them. But much like those stories written by other authors from 2012...who knows if they’ll ever be completed. Certainly not me!

I do hope that helps. We’re all super hyped that you’ve enjoyed Christmas Parties, Confessions and Cozy Death Traps. And who knows, your kind comment may be the happy juice one of us needs to get a few more words down on...something. 

Thanks again for the ask! I really appreciate it. 

#jibberjabber #the muse muses #pjo #percy jackson #percico #nico di angelo

[oooortcloud]

hiiii ✨

i am so sorry for such a late response, i had such a stressful week but is better now! how was your week? 🥰

i am sort of curious about the second part of avatar but i also saw the first one in sixth grade, have a vivid memory of making a plan with friends to see it in the brand new imax theater in town! lol. so i won’t remember anything, are you planning to watch ??

how was being at home??

Omg that book sounds so interesting! I had never heard of it, I want to check it out 👀

my favorite book is probably tuck everlasting or these violent delights (the one by micah nemerever!). food… hmmm…. i do love pasta 🫶 but idk bc I just love food so much so mayhaps anything that’s lemon and garlic?!??? hard to say haha. pastry wise i love macrons a lot but croissants w chocolate are one of my loves as well<3 (ik that’s not the proper name but can’t think of it rn 🫣)

the class average was THREE??? your teacher needs to do some serious work omg, in my opinion if the class is doing that poorly as a whole that’s a reflection on them. so congratulations on 8, that’s awesome :))). tbh i wasn’t good at math either so must be a gay thing 😔 lol. i hope you had fun at home and loved your new haircut :D

any New Years resolutions?? 👀

sending you the best ♥️♥️

-k✨

hello <333 happy new year !!!! no problem!! im glad the pressure has gone down a bit now :)

yeah we watched it! i think the first one was better though haha. there was just a lot of pointless violence in this. being home was amazing!!! well a mix of amazing and nostalgic

i havent read any of those so theyre going to my to read list !!! yeah no i get it it's soooo hard to pick a fav food. wait croissants with chocolate have a separate name ?! ok i just checked its called chocolatine according to google lmao thats so insane i had no idea about that

yeah!!! probably, the teaching is not exactly very efficient. hehe the gay curse is real lmao. also speaking of math, i have ANOTHER math quiz in two days i hate life

i DO love my new haircut!!! it's perfect, i was going to go with layers but the hairstylist suggested against it bc my hair is very bouncy (?) that's the word he used. so i got a normal dora kind of haircut and it looks amazing!!!!

my new year's resolution is to finally tell my best friend that i like her :] idk how ill do it but its been too long now and i have to or ill go insane. what's your new years resolution?

i hope you had an amazing christmas and new year :))) love you lots i hope this year brings you happiness <3

#k✨

[delicatedandelion]

I have been feeling like absolute crap ngl. Mostly because depression has been hitting harder and harder and my family is just asfhdjafdlmafdlab.

I finished my exams home cause my dad was like “oh why stay at uni’s dorms when you can finish up home since they are online” which fair point cause -> no useless money spendings in a pretty expensive city like the one my Uni is.

Now that I came home I feel like a burden constantly cause it’s like he LOOKS annoyed with my existence here. He wanted me to apply for my driver’s license but I didn’t because well…depresso. So if I wouldn’t have failed and taken the test, I would’ve probably had another meltdown and take the car and crash by impulse. Getting very CONSCIOUS about that thing, I decided not to apply

My relatives raised my anxiety levels to the moon. I’m 21 and next year finishing my Master’s and my fam acts like I am 40 living out of my dad’s salary in the house basement. I started getting a lot of white hairs cause of the stress and anxiety they are causing -besides ofc the way it affects my sleep and everything else- but at least I’m blond now so not as easily noticeable as before lmao. And like…I tried to find jobs but it’s a lil hard when it takes you 6h just to convince yourself to get out of bed to brush your teeth 😅 but ig those are just excuses so yeah…it’s fine and it’s my fault and like…ik that but do they really have to remind me daily tho…? Haha…

I wanted to quit smoking cause like…I’m stressed and anxious enough but with how it’s been going? Honestly cigs pretty much the only ones to keep me sane. And it’s either those or sh so yeah. I literally don’t have any other coping mechanisms. Except for maybe alcohol but I’m not going back to my teens nah ah. So probs will go this friday and buy some cigs

I either don’t eat or b/p or just eat a lot. But I have 0 energy to move whatsoever. And I mean…I actually tried. I put on my workout clothes and that in itself felt like it needed a 12h nap afterwards. I tried to workout but I end up either collapsing on the mat or just unable to move cause my body refuses and my brain dissociates. I feel drained of energy for any task mostly. I’m also afraid my fam will end up doing something stupid and take my books or something because honestly reading or mindless tiktok scrolling have been the only thing I am able to do lately. (1) to stay away and out of people’s business cause if I just don’t talk or do anything they won’t be mad at me and tell me cruel things on and on and (2) I won’t mess anything up like I usually do haha. They keep telling me how annoying I am basically and how I ‘need to be shaken up cause you live in another reality!!!’ and that I’m nothing and will do nothing and am too spoiled and don’t have any idea what life is and stuff like that and I think it’s a bit hypocritical to be told that from them who like…go on vacations abroad when they get bored or feel ‘under the weather’ 😅

I kinda gave up ngl. Just existing, sit there and smile and try to stay away, say the right things and one day…yeah

[andnowilovecats]

0th

day i miss her.

we were at a very hard lunch today. (she is late for 3 hours and makes me rly sad but that’s totally okay ig … i mean excused) it’s just the fact that i found out everyone who got invited there is somewhat in a trade. like they get invited just bc the one who start that lunch gathering, wants to get something from us. like everyone is been tricked. ig. and i find out i’m the one there with the worst gpa, like my gpa is like the worst. she is also there, being the smartest kid and having everyone’s praises. i find out everyone is trying out dirty tricks to cheat to get in college. ofc she did not do that. she is just generally too good and no need to try shits like that.

… tbh i’ve hate her for a while when my mom told me this. well okay. not a while, but like, a sec or something. cause i ended up accidentally saw my phone lock screen and omg she hot.

i miss her . but i hate her. same time. like what’s wrong with me. prob too much social. like wtf how can ppl be this bad.

the adults are all so 心機. like why do we need to make things so hard. why is everyone trying to be not honest and like. trying to make other ppl fail to get stuff they want. like wtf. this is just so hard and tired. can we all be like v honest and just chill. like yeah i get why they r so competitive and stuff. but like life is so hard. i like chilling not socializing. like i do know how to socialize and pretend to be someone else. (i mean i’m gay i’m kinda born for that. uk. to pretend someone that’s not me. okay bad joke. i get it now.) anyways the point is. it’s so hard to pretend and hide stuff why is everyone doing that. why can’t we all be happy and honest and just say what we wanna say and create a better world and shit. like yeah ik this is not fking possible. but like won’t that be good though. and the saddest part is that i am trying to be honest to my friends. and i have no idea if they are being honest back to me. like i lit have no idea. i can only guess. and at the same time ik guessing that is bad. like u r assuming other ppl to be not honest to u. that’s making everything worse. but like life is alr worse so like ... idk.

P.S. she did’t give me a hug today. i sad.

P.P.S. but i like to ship her with another girl. (yes i’m weird. yes i like her.) and i’ve seen a lot of sweet moment today. life is great.

also, i know that i am probably over thinking. actually, i am definitely wrong. but like. is there a chance that like. there is something going on between us. like she is so. she is so easy going(?) with me? like i can ask for anything and as long as that doesn’t disobey like her moral principles. she’s fine with me doing it. so is it like .. can anything be happening. like she said she don’t want to have a boy friend. so is it like there could be something happening. like. is this the farthest someone can get with her. so like. am i actually getting what i want? like i don’t care about the name of boyfriend girlfriend thing. i just want to be with her and like if this is the comfortable way to get along with her? like is there any possible that she have no idea what’s going on between us. idk. but like. am i the one who get furthest on this trip? then i shouldn’t ask for anything more. right? idk i rly like her. and like. we can do anything couples do? (yeah i wanna kiss her but i dun think i will even though i rly have that chance.) like we hug and hug and hug. and like she pat my head. drag each other around. i get to take her jacket for the whole summer. she is okay with me sniffing her jacket. she, someone who hates texting, finds time to send me [big hug] everyday. like that means something right? that means something right? is it possible that she have feelings for me and she just have no idea what’s going on? is it possible that she think it’s just more friendship? or i am right. i am just too overthinking. idk. i love her and i hope after a year this means something.

---edit---

i’m standing in the middle of the street now.

i’m alive. i’m dead.

---end of edit---

---more edit---

i’m breathing.

i love that i’m breathing.

---end of edit---

---more more edit---

i’m walking. i don’t have my glasses on. the lights.

the street lights all glows away from its source. now it’s a glowing light bulb. a lot of glowing starts. if u look down the street. u’ll c a row of shooting stars appearing.

---end of edit---

---more more more edit---

i’m desperate. and he comes gentle.

---end of edit---

goodnight.

[big hug]

[dccomicsimagines]

Spirit of Thanksgiving - Tim Drake x Reader

Requested by @cardanisafurry  -  Could I, Could I maybe get some more Tim Drake x gn!Reader? I’ve been in a tim drake mode after reading your study help story and it was just so good! You’ve been my favourite dc author since I first found your work and that was before you started WLIF! It seems like forever ago. Ik I didn’t really specify what I wanted in the fic but maybe it could be married life and interacting with the batfam?

Author’s Note - I made this Thanksgiving theme and added some drama. Also it’s a day late and it’s a little rough, so I’m sorry about that. 

***

“Timmy? Did you find the card table in the basement?” You called from the kitchen as you slid the turkey back into the oven after you basted it again.

“I did.” Tim grunted from the basement door just outside of the kitchen. He stomped up the stairs and appeared with the heavy old card table you inherited from your grandmother. Leaning it against the wall, Tim sighed and stretched his arms above his head. 

You drank in the sight of him. He may have lost some of his muscle mass when he retired from hero life, but he still had it. You almost drooled.

“I need to wipe off the dust.” Tim came in and wet a towel. You rolled your eyes, pinching his ass through his jeans. “Hey.” He jumped, looking at you with flushed cheeks. Slowly, a smirk pulled on his lips. 

“Can’t help it.” You shrugged innocently. Tim leaned over and kissed your lips. “Yummy.”

Tim pulled away. “I wish your family wasn’t coming soon.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Trust me, love. We’ll have more than enough time once they all go home.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into him. You laughed, loving how warm he was. Your arms slipped around his neck. 

“Maybe tonight will be the night,” Tim whispered, looking down at your stomach. 

“We can hope.” You winked at him before stealing the wet towel from his hand and going to clean off the card table. “So we’ll set this up at the end of the dining room table. That should get us enough space for my cousins.” 

Tim rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe how big your family is. I remember feeling like a stranger at our wedding.” He flinched, probably remembering that he had asked his family to not come. You disagreed with his choice, but supported him in it. There wasn’t much you could do.

“Well, the turkey is cooking wonderfully,” you said, trying to cheer him up. “The pies are in the fridge. My family should have everything else.” 

“Right.” Tim turned on the oven light and peeked inside. “Smells great.” You finished the table, taking a peek at him. The oven light threw a shadow across his face. 

“Tim, you know there is still time. You could invite them. I imagine they could be here in twenty minutes if they took the batplane.” You went to him, tossing the towel in the sink. Taking his hand, you pulled him to face you. “It’s been three years. Why not make amends?”

“I can’t.” The words tore out of him. He looked into your eyes with his pretty blues. You hoped if your children would get his eyes. “I don’t even know how I would begin.” 

You smiled. “I’m sorry would help.” You tilted your head and kissed his lips. “Why don’t you try? Just call them. If they don’t pick up, then that’s it, but at least try. Please? For me?” You widened your eyes and pouted your lips. 

Tim’s resolve melted instantly. “Okay.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll call.” He took his phone out of his pocket and glanced at it like it was about to explode. 

“Do you want me to stay or should I go see if I can find those folding chairs to go with the table?” You put your hands on your hips, eyeing his phone too.

“Please stay.” He swallowed hard, scrolling through his contacts for Bruce’s number. It didn’t have a name with it. He knew it from the number alone. Tim closed his eyes as he hovered over the call button. You rubbed his arm, pressing against yourself into his side. “We won’t have enough room if they come.”

“I’ll call my mom and tell her to bring another table and more chairs.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “No excuses. Just do it, Timmy.” 

Tim took a deep breath and hit the call button. He turned on the speaker, biting his lip. His hair fell into his eyes. You reached up to brush it back. 

It rang four times. “Tim? What’s wrong?” You and Tim held your breaths at the sound of Bruce’s voice. It was cold, older than it was the last time you heard it. Of course, the last time you heard it, Bruce was laying into Tim. A ice cold shiver ran down your spine, you shook your head to clear the memory from your mind. 

“Hi.” Tim cleared his throat. Blood drained from his face. Silence filled the air. 

You sighed softly. “Hi, Bruce. How are you?” 

“I’m...decent.” You heard bats screeching in the background on Bruce’s end. 

“That’s good. We’re doing great out here. Tim’s company is doing very well.” You smiled at Tim as he looked blankly at you. “The new house is great too.” 

Bruce grunted. “I know.” He paused. “I kept tabs on you two.”

“Of course, you did,” Tim mumbled under his breath. You smacked his arm. Tim winced. “Do you have any...Thanksgiving plans today?” 

Bruce went quiet to the point you were worried he had hung up. “No, there is work to be done.”

Tim gave you a ‘told ya so’ look. You smacked his arm again. “Bruce, we’d love for you to come out to our house for Thanksgiving. Dinner will be at four. We always eat early. That way you can be back in Gotham before anything happens.” You smiled sweetly at Tim. “Bring Damian or anyone else with you. We have plenty of food.”

The only sound was the bats screeching. You held your breath. Tim bit his lip, studying you carefully. “I want you to come, Bruce,” Tim choked. You looked at him in surprise before smiling in relief. 

Bruce sighed. “I’ll be there.” He paused. “It will just be me and Ace.”

“Ace?” you asked, blinking in confusion. 

“My dog.” Bruce cleared his throat. “Is that alright?”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Of course, bring Ace,” you said, kissing Tim’s cheek. “So be here by three. We’ll have appetizers and things.” 

“I’ll be there.” Bruce hung up the phone afterwards. You jumped on Tim, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Doesn’t it feel great to be the bigger person?” You laughed, kissing his lips. Tim put his phone on his pocket before hugging you back tightly and returning your kiss.

“It feels...okay.” Tim smirked as you pulled away. He panted slightly. “I wonder where is Damian?” He frowned. “I mean he chose him over me.”

“Stop it.” You patted his cheek. “Don’t do that now.” You took out your own phone. “I’m calling my mom to bring another table and more chairs. Can you get the folding table set up?” 

Tim chuckled behind you before doing what you asked. You hoped this would be good for Tim. He hadn’t been the same ever since the fight that drove a wedge between him and his family. Today, you hoped would be a new beginning for him and Bruce at the very least. 

***

Bruce stood outside the Drake house with Ace sitting beside him. He admitted it was a good sized house, very modern. In the corner of his eye, he could see the security system running perfectly. A smirk pulled at his lips. Tim was still the same. Careful and thorough. The smirk dropped as Bruce remembered the fight that caused Tim to estrange himself from him.

Damian had gone off the deep end, choosing to break the code and murder a serial killer who was targeting the children of Gotham. Bruce swallowed hard. He arrived on the scene first and covered up Damian’s murder. The rest of the family found out eventually when Damian let it slip during an argument between him and Tim. 

Tim believed Damian should have his mask taken away. Bruce refused, thus Tim left. Of course, Bruce was simplifying things. The ugly words he had said to Tim during that argument still haunted him. He hadn’t seen Tim in three years. Now Tim was married to his former girlfriend, who Bruce always approved of. He started his own company that Bruce knew would eventually rival Wayne Enterprises. His chest ached from how proud he was.

Meanwhile, Damian pulled away from his father slowly and painfully. Bruce hadn’t spoken to Damian in months. Damian patrolled as Batman now, taking over when Bruce stepped down. A wild, incontrollable Batman. Bruce knew it was his fault and he debated whether he should have taken the mask away from Damian like Tim suggested. 

Time got away from him until the front door opened and you exited. “Hello there,” you said, coming up to him and offering him a hug. Bruce accepted it, surprised as he gently patted your back. “Thank you for coming, Bruce.”

“Thank you for the invitation.” Bruce let you pull away from him. He took in your blouse and slacks, glad he wouldn’t feel overdressed in his slacks and button down shirt. “I got to admit, I was very surprised.”

You tilted your head at him before kneeling down to greet Ace. Ace barked, loving the attention. “Time heals all wounds. Besides, Tim wanted to be the bigger person.” You winked up at Bruce. Bruce remembered why he liked you. You had Alfred’s tendency to bring people together. 

Bruce gazed at the house, noting the two children peering out of an upstairs window at him. “Is your family here?”

“Yep.” You stood up, following Bruce’s gaze to the window. “Those are my cousins’ kids. They were playing with Tim’s Switch.” You waved at them. The children disappeared. You took Bruce’s hand. Bruce glanced down at your hand in surprise. “Now let’s go inside. It’s too cold to be standing out here.” 

Bruce let you lead him into the house. Ace went in first and started sniffing around at the different people. Most of your family greeted him until he found your aunt on the couch. As if Ace could sense she was a dog person, he jumped on the couch next to her and preceded to be loved up by her. Bruce smiled, glad at least Ace would have a good time. He looked around, trying to find Tim, but he was nowhere in sight. 

You took his coat. “Bruce, this is my dad,” you said, nodding to the man who came up to shake his hand. “Dad, you mind taking Bruce around and introducing him to everyone? I got to head back to the kitchen.”

“Of course,” your father agreed, smiling at Bruce. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” Bruce noted you got your smile from your father. It was as infectious as yours.

“It’s nice to meet you too. Your daughter is...well...good for my son.” Bruce cleared his throat, dropping your father’s hand. 

“Personally, I think your son is good for my daughter. They do make a good pair.” Your father clapped a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.” Bruce allowed your father to drag him off. He felt so out of his element, but he relaxed. However, he kept looking around for Tim, but Tim was nowhere to be found.

***

You were informed of Tim’s absence by one of your cousins. “Go find him, dear,” your mom said, sending you out of the kitchen. “I’ll finish here.” 

“Thanks Mom.” You began to search the house. Your aunts, older cousins, and Ace were in the living room, chatting and going through Black Friday ads. Your uncles, your father, and Bruce were in the den playing poker. Part of you wondered if they were only playing poker because they knew Bruce was rich. When you saw your father had most of the chips in front of him, you knew that was the case. He had done the same thing to Tim when he first met him.

Heading upstairs, you checked on your kid cousins. They were still playing with the Switch. None of them had seen Tim after he set it up for them. You frowned, hoping he didn’t run away. 

Finally, you checked your bedroom. It was empty and perfectly clean. However, the closet door was partially ajar. You nudged the door open the rest of the way to find Tim sitting in the darkest corner of the closet. “Tim?” You sighed in relief.

“(Y/N)?” Tim jumped to his feet, bonking his head on the clothes rack. It fell, spilling all the clothes on top of him. “Oouf.” 

You guffawed, turning on the light and going to help him. “Timmy, why?” 

“I was just going to change my shirt.” Tim grinned shyly at you as he crawled out from under the clothes. He helped you put the rack back into place before hanging up clothes. 

“Sure.” You eyed his shirt. It was still the same one he had on earlier, no stain or anything in sight. “And then you decided to just hang out in here?” 

Tim swallowed hard, not meet your eye. “Yeah, you do it.”

“Only when I need to recharge socially.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Tim, look at me.” He did. You could see the nervousness in his eyes. “You just didn’t want to face Bruce.”

Tim let his shoulders fall. He held one of your blouses in his hand, playing with the sleeve. “Okay, fine. I didn’t want to face Bruce in front of everyone.” He leaned over to rest his forehead on your shoulder. “How’s he doing with the family by the way?”

“My dad is robbing him blind in poker, but knowing Bruce I think he is letting him win.” You smiled, reaching up to rub the back of his head as his forehead stayed on your shoulder. “Bruce looks older, sadder. He seems very lonely, Tim. I think that’s why he has Ace now. By the way, I think my aunt might steal Ace from him.”

“Really?” Tim chuckled, lifting his head to look at you. “Can you bring Bruce up here? I think we should have this out before the meal.”

“You should.” You kissed his lips passionately. “I love you, Tim Drake.”

“Ditto, (Y/N) Drake.” Tim smirked into the kiss, gasping as you pulled away. “I’ll stay here and try not to have a heart attack while I wait for you to bring Bruce.”

You rolled your eyes. “And you say I’m the overdramatic one.” You slipped away from him and went to go save Bruce from your father.

***

Tim counted his breaths as he laid on your bed. Holding it for five seconds before letting it out for five seconds. Over and over again. His heart slowed down. He felt calmer. 

The moment he caught Bruce on the security footage that played on his phone, Tim hyperventilated. He went into the bedroom and hid in the closet. His eyes stayed on the security footage as he watched you go out to greet Bruce and bring him inside. It took a very long time for Tim to calm down. He was glad you hadn’t found him until he was almost back to normal. You didn’t need to be more worried about him then you already were.

“Tim.” Bruce’s voice was a cold bucket of water over Tim’s head. He sat up suddenly to see Bruce hesitating in the doorway. You pushed Bruce in. 

“I’ll be downstairs. Come down when you two are ready.” You blew Tim a kiss and closed the door behind Bruce.

Tim opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Bruce eyed Tim before glancing around the room. He stopped at the wedding photo of you and Tim on the wall. “Your house is beautiful. I’m glad you were able to make a good life for yourself.” 

“Thanks,” Tim whispered, getting to his feet. He slowly moved to Bruce’s side. “The wedding was great, but I felt like I was surrounded by strangers. I didn’t realize how big (Y/N)’s family was.” 

Bruce hummed. “They are interesting, very different from us.” He snorted, crossing his arms. “Her father just won two grand from me in poker.”

“You mean you let him?” Tim smirked, relaxing at the easy small talk. “He won four grand from me. Used it to add a hot tub to their house.”

“He’s a good man though.” Bruce glanced at Tim. “You look good.”

“You too.” Tim bit his lip, noticing Bruce may have shrunk an inch or two. “How’s everyone?”

Bruce’s face fell. Tim’s heart fell with it. He could see what you meant when you said Bruce looked lonely. “I don’t talk to them anymore. Damian refuses to see me, Dick is off-world, and Jason...is Jason.”

“Yeah, he sent us a postcard last month.” Tim looked back at the photo, keeping his eyes on your face. You kept him calm. “I’m sorry, Bruce.”

A shaky breath came from Bruce’s direction. Tim glanced at him only to see a rare tear slip down Bruce’s cheek. “No, I’m the one who is sorry, Tim. I think you were right. I should have taken Robin away from Damian.” He turned to face Tim. Tim’s heart spasmed. “He needed me to be a father and all I did was enable him. Now I pay the price. He’s a Batman that answers to no one.”

Tim hesitated, but he knew what he should do. He reached out and pulled Bruce in a hug. “I forgive you, Bruce, and I’m sorry for pushing you away.” Bruce melted into Tim’s arms, hugging him back tightly in the only way Bruce could. “You are always welcome here from now and on.” 

Bruce grunted, reaching a hand up to cup the back of Tim’s head. “I’m proud of you. Alfred and your father would be proud of you too. You did good by all of us.” 

A lump formed in Tim’s throat. He swallowed it away. Silence fell between them as they hugged. The faint noise from downstairs reminded them they weren’t alone. “We should go downstairs. Dinner should be ready.” Tim pulled away first. “Besides, I want to meet Ace. He’s my new brother, right?”

Bruce snorted, his face back to it’s expressionless mask. “Yes,” he said bluntly. Tim chuckled, wrapping an arm around Bruce’s shoulders. His heart felt lighter, fuller than before. “If your wife’s family doesn’t kidnap him.”

“Can’t promise that.” Tim led Bruce out of the room. “Come on, we don’t want to miss the meal. (Y/N)’s family are all amazing cooks. It’s crazy.” Tim silently admitted to himself that he was thankful you had pushed him this morning to contact Bruce. It was truly the spirit of Thanksgiving. 

#tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #red robin #red robin x reader #red robin imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #batfamily imagine #batfamily #bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #batman #batman imagine #thanksgiving imagine

[ptergwen]

I think your requests are open (I didn’t see anything that said otherwise but I suck at this app lol) but I was wondering if you could write a peter x reader (likely college-age) where they have an academic rivalry and just tease each other a lot and lots of fluff and shit? It can be an established relationship or like a friends/rivals to lovers or really whatever you want. Sorry if this is super specific! Anyways, I love your writing, it always cheers me up :)

friends close, enemies closer

ik this is cherry BUT i had to

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing and hints of suggestiveness

a/n: thank you my love ! i’m actually obsessed with this concept so i’m super super happy with how it came out n i hope you are too :,)

-

you wipe sweat from your upper lip, peeking at peter’s laptop screen. he’s more than halfway through the paper your english professor tasked your class to write. he looks to have not a worry in the world as he continues to type away. growling at this, you dive right back into work.

you’ve been at each other’s throats since the beginning of classes when you both wanted the same spot. first row, middle seat. peter had officially claimed it in the end. you’d flopped down next to him and his irritating smirk.

the dude is smart, you’ll give him that. his knowledge of literature is almost as impressive as yours. almost. he raises his hand any chance he gets, effectively stealing your thunder if you dare to participate.

peter is also a bit of a people pleaser. he’ll chat up your professor at office hours, fascinate her with his hot takes on things or stupid anecdotes. you often get so annoyed that you bail before you even attempt to woo her yourself. the sight of you storming off is something peter thoroughly enjoys.

bottom line is, golden boy peter parker never loses. underneath the sweet, innocent persona he hides behind is a ruthless fighter. you’re determined to end his winning streak, thus sparking your ongoing competition to be better than the other in every way possible.

this time, your goal is to meet your ten page paper requirements the fastest. they aren’t due for weeks, but you and peter are banging them out in one sitting.

you’re hauled up in the campus library, sat side by side despite your wishes for peter to get his own table. he’d insisted on sharing with you. why, you haven’t a clue. you can’t stand him, and he isn’t the fondest of you either.

that’s what you tell yourselves, at least.

“progress report?” peter requests from you. “page three. you?” you grunt back. he props his feet up on the table, arms flexed behind his head. “finishing up page seven. you already knew that, though... creeper.”

god, you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

you glance over at peter, doing your best to ignore how his biceps bulge under his hoodie. nerdy little parker is ripped.

“worry about yours, i’ll worry about mine. thanks.” you reread the sentence you wrote prior to peter’s chiseled body distracting you. “oh, the irony,” he sighs and nudges the edge of your laptop with his sneaker. scowling, you shift the screen away from him.

about a minute of silence goes by until it’s unfortunately filled by peter. he stretches his arms out, finally removing his dirty shoes from the table.

“i’m gonna take five. maybe, you could use it as an opportunity to catch up to me,” peter cockily suggests. “spare me your charity, peter. i’m doing just fine without it,” you retort, letting out a scoff. peter raises his hands in defense. “if you say so, princess.”

here you were, naively thinking peter couldn’t become any more insufferable than he already is.

you slam your laptop shut and jab a finger at his chest. “jesus christ, how many times do i have to ask you not to call me that?” a patronizing pout adorns peter’s lips. “aw, i love it when you get all bossy on me. so cute.”

he grabs your hand still on his chest, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. you’re quick to wipe it off on his hoodie. nevertheless, there’s an undeniable heat rushing to your cheeks.

“well, i hate it when you call me princess,” you deadpan. peter tilts his head to the side. “do you?”

of course not. deep down, you live for the fuzzy feeling you get whenever the nickname slips from his tongue. oh, his tongue and the things it can do. poking out as he focuses hard on a question, running across his pink lips…

you have to reel it in. this is peter parker you’re fantasizing about, your mortal enemy.

“yes. i hate it, and i hate you,” you unsuccessfully convince the both of you. “no, you don’t,” peter rasps, darkened eyes scanning over your features. his stare is intense and intimidating. he grasps your chin between his thumb and index finger, slowly leaning in closer.

he’s not going to stop until you make him. you don’t want to, but you will.

you shove his shoulder, dragging your laptop towards you again. “on second thought, i could use that catch up. you’re not gonna throw me off my game, parker.”

your rejection seems to disappoint peter. his expression matches that of a kicked puppy, brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest.

“we’ll see,” he murmurs and swings a leg over his chair. “alright, i’m gonna run to the caf. you want anything?”

he’s offering to buy you food now? what’s his angle here?

“i’d say yes, but i’m afraid you’ll poison it somehow,” you half joke. peter hops to his feet. “don’t give me any ideas,” he warns, snatching his backpack off the floor. “i’ll just surprise you.”

although you’re curious what his mystery snack choice for you would be, you can’t accept. you’d be going against your entire dynamic.

would that be so terrible?

absolutely.

you wave him off towards the double doors. “i’m good, peter. really. i’m not that hungry, anyway.” shaking his head, peter throws a backpack strap onto one shoulder. “y/n, your stomach’s been grumbling for the last hour. you gotta eat.”

he’s not wrong. you’re starving, but you’ve been too preoccupied by your essay to break for dinner.

“fine, surprise me,” you concede. peter flashes you a smile, this one void of its usual condescendence. “i’ll be back. try not to miss me too much,” he calls as he walks backwards to the library doors. “i won’t. shoo already,” you dismiss him, a laugh falling from your lips.

peter winks at you, then disappears into the night. you’re left with a serious case of butterflies and a certain freckle faced know-it-all on your mind.

that’s a problem.

you’ve managed to get another page done when peter reappears. he sits back down and slides a bag across the table, you closing your laptop. you dig into it to figure out what he picked for you. you’re not too pleased with his selection, however.

“oh, yummy. vomit in a cup,” you announce as you hold a green smoothie in your hand. peter reaches over and pats your thigh. “it’s good for you. drink up, princess.” you slap him away. “hard pass. i’d rather you have gotten me nothing.”

narrowing his eyes, peter pulls two cookies wrapped in a napkin from his pocket. “i’m guessing you don’t want these either? more for me, then.”

they’re chocolate chip and m&m, your favorite in the cafeteria. they just came out of the oven, so they’re still warm.

“how… how did you know i…” you trail off, peter setting the cookies in front of you. he offers you a lopsided grin. “i know a lot about you, believe it or not. i pay attention.” you surprise yourself by returning his smile. “thank you, peter. how much do i owe you?”

“nah, it’s on me,” peter assures you. “enjoy.” pushing aside your unappealing drink, you seize the cookies instead. “you have to eat, too. let me at least split these with you.” there’s a beat before peter nods. “fair enough.”

that results in you two munching on your cookies while pretending to write your papers. you’re sneaking glances at each other whenever the other isn’t looking, in reality.

once it’s about time for the library to close, you’re on the verge of passing out. peter is concluding his essay until he hears a thump from your side of the table.

he finds you with your cheek smushed against your keyboard and hitting random letters, snores escaping you.

chuckling to himself, peter places a hand on your shoulder. “hey, y/n?” he speaks in a hushed tone. you awake with a gasp, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. “easy there, princess. it’s only me.” he rubs circles on your back, and it’s oddly comforting.

“keep doing that,” you purr, momentarily forgetting how much you’re supposed to despise peter. he lets his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your lower back. “we should probably head out. it’s kinda late,” peter decides.

you sit up, bones aching and eyes forced open. “not yet. have to beat you first.” you start to delete the gibberish you accidentally typed. peter cups your cheek to turn your head towards him, your movements halting. “this one’s a tie. you did good, y/n/n,” he coos. “finish the rest another day.”

“why’re you being so nice to me?” you nearly whisper. peter uses his thumb to swipe the drool from your lips. “‘cuz i care about you. i might not show it, but i do,” he admits with the hint of a smile. “besides, i need you… for the, uh, the healthy competition.”

laughing softly, you twist his hoodie strings around your fingers and tug. “your intentions are pure as always. sure that’s all you need me for?” peter’s gaze darts to your lips, then your eyes. “we’ll see,” he repeats.

rivalry be damned.

“mm. i care about you too, parker. thanks again for tonight,” you hum. a blush coats peter’s cheeks, even in the dim library lighting. his sweet and innocent side might truly exist. “no problem.” peter links your pinkie with his, the gesture giving you that fuzzy feeling. “i’ll walk you back to your dorm?”

you lean over and kiss his pinkie intertwined in yours.

“lead the way.”

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker au #peter parker smut #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction

[waybrights]

Sats au

Marcy, after a whole day of nonstop writing: *sleepily/aimlessly walks around the studio*

Sasha, sipping her her coffee in the dark: "You know it's midnight, right?"

Marcy, going completely still: *looks around confused*

okay i wrote smth for this and ik it doesn't fit the prompt exactly i hope u enjoy it anyway!!!

There was something strangely comforting about the studio, especially when the only sound was the hum of the air conditioner and there was no one around. Well, no one but Marcy. Technically, she wasn't allowed to be there, but it's not like anyone was going to kick them out. Besides, she was certain no one knew she was still there. And if they did, no one had come for them yet, so they couldn't get mad when they found her asleep on the couch in the morning.

Besides, the studio was probably one of the only places Marcy could actually focus on what she was doing. Their house was too noisy, especially since Sprig and Polly were over for the week whilst Hop Pop was away on some important trip, and her phone and laptop were there too, all easy distractions from the music she was meant to be going over. So she stayed behind, in the dark studio that had really, really, shitty wifi and an air-con that was stuck blowing cold wind into the building.

Sure, it wasn't the best and they could afford to rent out a new one, but all three of them liked the studio enough to stay, even if the couch was starting to fall apart and it was constantly just above freezing.

On one particular night, Marcy was sitting on the cold floor, one of Sasha's guitars in her lap as she tried to figure out a chord progression. No matter how many combinations she tried, it never sounded right. Sure, they could always just ask Sasha to play something for her, but Marcy knew how tired she'd been recently, and didn't want to bother her with something as trivial as a chord progression. Plus, figuring out herself might make Sasha less stressed about having to do a whole tour after not playing for months due to an injury.

She hadn't meant to stay up so late, but then again, this stupid chord progression was meant to be easy. Luckily, the coffee machine had been fixed just the day before and restocked with just about everything Marcy needed to keep her awake for an extra ten hours and she was absolutely going to take full advantage of it.

---

Marcy wasn't sure how long she'd been sat there, staring down at those stupid lines, but the notes were starting to blur together, making it all the more harder to actually figure out what they were supposed to be doing. Their fingers hurt from playing and the song was rattling around in her head, the same three lines playing on a loop, bringing Marcy closer and closer to just tearing up the sheets surrounding her.

She hadn't realised she'd been crying until a single tear fell onto the paper, it only smudged one note, but it was enough for the frustration that had been building up for the past however long to boil over.

Biting her lip to stop herself crying even more, she stood up and made a beeline for the door, because if she stayed in this stupid recording booth for any longer, Sasha would come in finding her guitar in pieces.

Swiping up the half finished coffee, Marcy stomped out of the room, blinking quickly to get rid of the tears pooling in their eyes. God this is so stupid, she thought to herself as she slammed the door open. In the back of her mind, she knew it would mark the wall, but she didn't have it in her to care. She'd probably just let everyone down. It was a simple chord progression and she couldn't even figure it out. So much for one of the best songwriters, she huffed, practically slamming the cup onto the desk.

Only, she slammed it too hard and the handle came clean off. Marcy stared at it for a few seconds, their eyes flitting between the handle closed in their fist and the mug Anne had got for her birthday on the table. "Fuck," she mumbled, pressing the handle back onto the mug as if that would magically mend it. For a moment, it looked like it was balanced, and Marcy slowly pulled her hand away, only for the handle to clatter against the desk a second later.

For the next ten minutes, Marcy tried to reattach the handle, each with less success than the last. It was pathetic really, but she was so caught up in the fact that she broke Anne's gift to her, that she didn't really have the mental capacity to care about it. So what if everyone saw her breakdown the next time they checked the security footage? That didn't matter when she'd just ruined something Anne gave her.

It was the feeling of warm hands on her own that finally got Marcy to stop. Everything seemed to drain out of her as the mug and handle were pried away from her. Vaguely, she wondered who was in the studio so late, although there was a chance she'd just spent several hours trying to force a cup back together and everyone had arrived for their final session. Either way, they didn't object as someone wrapped their arms around her waist and picked them up.

"I'm sorry," Marcy mumbled after a few minutes. It hadn't been part of her plan when she opted to stay behind to have some sort of breakdown and then cry in someone's arms, and she couldn't help feeling like she should apologise.

"Don't worry 'bout it, you looked like you needed this," Sasha's voice was a mere whisper in her ear, but it still sent Marcy's heart racing.

"Sasha?" Marcy asked, her eyes snapping open as she stared up into her band-mate's face. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Sasha said, a small frown on her face.

"I was," they paused and looked down, resting their head against Sasha's chest. "I was trying to figure out that chord progression you were complaining about. You've been so stressed recently, and it doesn't help we're going back on tour soon and you haven't played in a while, so I thought that, maybe, if I fixed it for you, it would make you slightly less stressed," saying it out loud, she realised that maybe it wasn't her best idea, but she wanted to do something for her friends. They both did so much for her, it was high time she did something for them.

“You… you didn’t have to do that, mar-mar,” Sasha said gently, and even though she wasn’t looking, Marcy could see the smile on her face. The way Sasha’s lips twitched up and her eyes would crinkle ever so slightly, because she didn’t usually smile and when she did it was a sight to behold. “But if that’s what got you so upset…”

“No, it wasn’t that,” well, not entirely, “I just got stressed.”

“That, or you haven’t slept properly in about a week and keep sneaking off here when you think Anne and I are asleep,” Sasha said, though her voice held no anger.

Marcy felt themself go still as Sasha spoke. How did she know? Were they that obvious? No, no she couldn’t be because no one had even asked her about it before! “That’s stupid,” Marcy scoffed instead, “I’ve been sleeping perfectly fine.”

“Marce…” Sasha mumbled, her arms coming up to gently squeeze their shoulders. “You don’t have to lie to me. I won’t force you to tell me, but if you think it’ll help to get it off your shoulders I’m-” she swallowed, almost like it was hard to admit that she was there for Marcy. “I’m always here, whenever you need. Even if it is 1 am on the shitty studio couch,” she ended lightly. Marcy giggled and moved slightly to bring a hand up to where Sasha was drawing random shapes on their bicep.

“Thank you, Sash, seriously,” they said, threading their fingers together. “And I will tell you, both of you, just not right now.”

“It’s okay,” Sasha whispered, very obviously trying to hold back a yawn, “I’ll wait for as long as you need.”

Marcy smiled and pressed the pad of her thumb against Sasha’s. “Are you excited? For next week?”

“Hmm?” Sasha hummed, her body jerking ever so slightly as she woke up. “Yeah, but I’m also nervous, y’know?” she mumbled, slowly waving her lightly bandaged hand around. “I haven’t played in a while, so I don’t want to mess up or anything.”

“You won’t,” Marcy mumbled, her eyes growing heavy as they sat there, Sasha’s warmth creating a bubble of sorts, where nothing could get to her. “You’re really great, Sash, you’ll be amazing.”

When no response came, Marcy slowly lifted her head, only to find Sasha fast asleep against the arm of the couch. It looked uncomfortable, and they knew she would complain in the morning, but she looked so relaxed and Marcy didn’t want to ruin that for anything. So she slowly shifted so she was laying down, their head on Sasha’s lap and her arms wrapped tightly around Sasha’s waist. “Night, Sash.”

#sasharcy brainrot coming back fast <333 #I JUST THINK THEY GET RLLY CLOSE OKAY!!! #and yh maybe this is slightly angsty but it ends in cuddles so <33 #amphibia #amphibia fic #sasha and the sharps au #sasha waybright #marcy wu #sasharcy #anon #you ask i answer #marie.txt

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Comte’s 4th Birthday Story Event: Before the Clock Strikes Midnight

REEEEEEEE Ik it was a long time ago but life has been a [redacted], so I figured better late than never HAHA

So without further ado, anybody who’s curious feel free to click for more--I’ll put it under a cut for spoilers as per usual~

So in this story it’s the usual, a few days before his birthday, and they’re discussing a bump in the road. Essentially, it appears a friend of Comte’s is going to be celebrating a wedding, and as such he’s going into the suburbs/affluent part of the region to be able to attend. It’s only a few hours away from the mansion, but he will be gone for a few days with the arrangements made for his stay. 

While this wouldn’t typically be an issue, MC has some things to take care of and opts out of attending with him (preparing for his bday probably LMAO) and Comte is immediately big sad. My favorite dramatic fool is already pouting, though he fully accepts and respects her decision. Besides which, he fully intends to be back in time to celebrate his birthday as well. He notes that he’s always admired how driven and independent she is, and has no intention of getting in the way of that. He’s just going to miss her, is all.

He says as much, figuring there’s no point in hiding it: “I really wanted to bring you with me to attend…but I suppose it simply can’t be helped” … “That’s not it…I guess I’m just wondering if you’ll miss me as much as I’ll miss you while I’m away.” 

And MC’s just like “Aw, it’s okay it’ll only be a few days.” While Comte’s response is a very mature, high-pitched whining sound at a frequency only King (Theo’s dog) and Theo himself can hear. When MC tries to reassure him once more, his Hamlet impression continues: “Even the prospect of a few days away from you feels unbearable.” 

Naturally, as any man do that loves his wife, he draws her close and proceeds to bang the living daylights out of her. I would offer details, but I have no deets to give beyond: [Well MC, it appears I won’t be letting you get much sleep tonight.] 

Brief intermission for the vague sounds of fangirl cardiac arrest. 

The scene opens again to him doing his walk of shame (the slut) down the walkway and into the carriage that will take him to his friend’s house. His thoughts carry the regret of burdening her with his desire, though MC is pretty much on cloud nine and unable to stop thinking about the heady night they shared in a good way. Bruh and the sly look when he figures out why she looks like that--I’m boutta call the police, he is going to make women and men alike act up. 

MC scrambles to cool his already returning desire by insisting he will be late if he indulges any further, and he laughs and agrees easily–albeit with the slightest hint of reluctance. My favorite part in this exchange is that he kisses her forehead, adding that it’s because she’s the most adorable person in the world to him (a moment of silence for our uwus). 

Fast forward to Comte trying to get home after the festivities are over. Problem is, it’s been raining like a mOTHERBLEEPER, and as such carriages have no safe way to traverse the roads at the moment. He waited out the first day as patiently as possible, but after the second–and no sign of stopping–his Leeroy Jenkins instincts kick in. He notes to the coachman that he’s aware he’s asking a lot, but they fully intend to take the long way which invites the least risk–and the rain is ebbing, even if the progress is slow. 

It’s interesting because there’s another echo of his main story in this moment. He essentially showcases a desperation to return before the day ends, though without context it’ll probably seem a little strange, so I’ll do my best to explain. Basically, in his main story, MC notes that she doesn’t really care how different they are. Different time, different species, different experiences, so on and so forth. She hammers home that what matters is that the present is something that they actively share. It’s theirs. And no amount of divisions he desperately tries to draw will change that fundamental reality. 

And it’s a little moving to see how deeply he takes it to heart? I think it’s one of those wonderful phenomena, personally–the way a person can influence how you think and act with their sentiments. Sometimes someone says precisely what it is we need to hear, and it changes us–while it can be for the worse, it can also be for the better. He notes that he spent so many birthdays; among the people serving his house when he was little, raising hell with his friends in his younger days, so on and so forth. Not unlike Leonardo, he says that after so many “special” days the faces become a blur, the festivities lose their luster. It’s just another day, at this point. 

Note, one interesting thing here that stands out to me is that I feel like this is a reflection of both of their larger struggles. Where Comte can’t stand the relentless flow of time rendering him the only constant (and something of a ghost, never fully present), Leonardo can’t bear birthdays because it means remembering people who still mean the world to him, but are long gone. People he can never see again, never laugh with again, never share his life with again. And I think that’s a very profound pain, an anguish that just keeps on settling its weight. (Oh, Sisyphus…)

Comte’s is similar, but different. He actively works to keep his distance-- unlike Leonardo, he approaches immortality in the pragmatic way. He knows getting close will hurt, so he opts out of that–keeps a step behind, an easy smile on his face. Betrays only fragments to anyone, always has his guard up. But the downside of being so guarded means you eventually feel hollowed out and alone; nobody truly knows or understands you. There is a distinct loneliness in that approach, where memories only become reminders of how nothing ever improves and how bereft you are of warmth. 

Leonardo, at least, gets to have the joy of being known from time to time. But loss and estrangement from those people means double the pain in the long run, because he loved them fully. Comte chooses to live in the cold to protect himself, but ends up in a kind of catch-22; the cost of forgoing loss means a constant deadening of his own feelings. It means living in a kind of fog, where there is a distinct discomfort in the silent obscurity of your own heart. 

There’s something I’ve come to believe in my short course of living, so I guess I still need time to determine how true it is. But…I feel like, when people live this way, where who they are is a lie or it’s at the very least carefully concealed, we in part start to become that lie. I think it’s fascinating because Comte seems to have so much personality to him. He’s dramatic, he’s thoughtful, he has a sense of mischief about him, he has strong ideals, and he has an even more ironclad moral grounding. And yet, when he talks about himself, he always uses descriptions that hinge on emptiness. Like he’s worth so little, worth nothing. And that’s what I mean–he’s been trying so hard to glide on the surface that he has come to believe he really is equivalent to something that ephemeral. Like there’s nothing more inside him, or if there is, that it will never be worthy of much. I think it really speaks to the ways behavior impacts the psyche, even though the opposite tends to be considered the only possible cause and effect relationship. 

He’s so determined to live for and in the future while he’s in the present, that he forgets to enjoy himself and really live. And while that approach is certainly understandable, I do think he loses parts of himself along the way. Only to be rediscovered and placed back into his hands by MC: [Today–this moment–our now, I don’t want to miss it for anything.] And that's not even touching on how quick she is to make them a we; she's not letting him keep that distance. It’s not “you have the ability to share this day with me” it’s “we’re here and in this together.”

I feel like what I love about this is that it’s not only about how sweet he is on MC, but also about how much he’s truly living again for the first time. His defenses are slowly inching their way down, he’s letting himself hope and want things and look forward to things again. The thing about being a responsible person is that–while responsibility is all well and good–sometimes you become so mired in doing the right thing and planning the most optimal outcomes that you just aren’t thinking of yourself anymore. That is, if you ever were to begin with. He went from the careful cultivation of a life as an aristocrat, to a life that spoke of more freedom and fun beyond those iron wrought gates, before he returned to the structure of what he knew. Freedom speaks to him I’m sure–we all need it in some measure to survive. But I do think a good portion of that was unfulfilling for him after a point. It was only feeding the void that was beginning to form inside him. He was instinctively retreating into himself to avoid pain, and in doing that the only result was feeling like a coward and a fake. He wasn’t happy, he wasn’t able to be himself, and nothing was fulfilling–every single day just another forward march. 

I think it comes as no surprise he took up Vlad’s initial invitation so willingly. 

But then I digress, back to the story. There’s another timeskip and it finds him racing down the hall of the mansion. He’s hoping to make it in time but knows he’s racing against the clock, and fully expects MC to be asleep by this point in the night. Midway along his path he thinks he spots MC and falters in his step, blinking. He decides to hang back, watching the figure enter his room with a great deal of curiosity and resists every urge to burst in after her. He hears MC speak into his pillow, her voice muffled but clearly despondent: “I miss you, Comte. I hope you get back home soon…” 

Comte pretty much dies right there. I literally have no better explanation for it. He freezes, his heart sputters and stops. He’s just completely taken aback. 

And then, naturally, he goes about feral with desire as is his modus operandi: “Oho, I heard something incredibly cute just now. Were you also having a hard time spending so long apart?”

MC: “…!”

[Startled, she turns around and her eyes widen and widen.]

MC: “Comte, how...”

Comte: “Took a detour in areas with less rain.”

MC: “?? Wouldn’t that still be hard in weather like this?”

Comte: “I told the coachman I wanted to see you as soon as possible. Even if it was only for a second, I wanted to spend today with you…”

[Everything I was thinking while in the carriage spills out of me long before I can help it. I am reminded again of just how utterly irreplaceable an existence MC is in my life.]

Comte: “Even so, it seems interesting that I would find you in my bed”

MC: “...! A--Ah, I’m so sorry for entering without permission!”

[I quickly grab hold of her before she can scramble out of my bed, coaxing her to sink back into the sheets.]

In between a lot of intense making out and [redacted], the larger overtone is that her reciprocated ardor just destroys him inside:

MC: “It was...because I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about wanting to see you…”

Comte: “!”

[You know just how to drive me mad with desire.]

Comte: “I’m the same...the first thing I did was look for you. Even though it was only a few days, your voice, your body, everything...I missed you”

[Because today, our ‘now’--I never want to lose a single moment with you as long as you’re by my side...]

Comte: “I’m so happy to be able to be with you, right here and right now.”

It gets funny too because Comte is trying to take it slow, but when she tells him “Happy birthday” and goes on to say she was so glad to greet the day he was brought into the world by his side, he just loses all control LMFAO. It ends with them getting more heated and [redacted], to the point where he doesn’t even hear the clock strike midnight. 

And if him being the cutest and sexiest romantic wasn’t obvious enough, he spends the next morning just sighing blissfully with her in his arms:

[The next morning, when I wake up, MC is still fast asleep. I mean, given she only fell asleep a few hours ago. I’m still reveling in the afterglow of a sweet night filled with her cries, the way she looked at me and held me. MC...]

[I relax to the sound of her breathing steady with sleep, stroking gently at her hair as I hug her from behind.]

Comte: “I’ve had countless birthdays. In an endless life, I was convinced it was just a day that would come and go every time.”

Comte: “It was only after meeting you that I could understand there was no such thing as an overlapping or identical moment. I don’t want to miss a single second by your side...that’s what I think now.”

[I admit the truth of my heart, brushing a kiss against her cheek. Over and over and over again, showering her in my affection--]

But dun dun dun!!! MC was awake the whole time, so when she fidgets a little at how ticklish his kisses are, he 👁

[Oh, I see. Well then, two can play at that game...]

Comte: “Your punishment is to stay in my arms just as we are...how’s that?”

He gets his mischievous (and hilarious) revenge for being revealed (HORNY TIME), though it’s so suffused with love it’s hard to call it revenge hahaha. She reminds him to go easy on her because they have his birthday party to attend later, and he agrees~

Honestly after such killer hurt/comfort spice fluff, I can only tremble at the thought of what his 5th year bday story will be

It’s either going to be Some Angst^TM or even more killer fluff, and either way that means my days are numbered

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp jpn spoilers #ikevamp leonardo #the way this man makes me have So Many Thoughts #every time i remember this story i just go dreamy-eyed #hes an absolute romantic and i die head empty only love comte #not incorrect quotes #rambles #fangdad propaganda #comte propaganda

[sexydreamgirl]

hii, a little warning that this will be a little negative. So if anyone reading this is kinda wavering rn, I’d suggest you skip.

i just really needed to let this out. I’m crying for the first time in a long time. And worse, this is after I’ve been perfecting my self concept. But it’s just...rn my mom pulled me aside and told me that I’ve been wavering and seem out of it lately (like I’m not very conscious of my surrounding) . Now that may seem like a good thing for ppl like me tht are practicing the law, y’know it’s great that I’m able to live life so detached from the 3d that even ppl in my life notice. I’ve been manifesting to wake up and be living my desired life and as of recently I’ve been so confident. But after my talk w my mom, she told me abt how it’s so important tht I don’t let myself waver bcus for me rn it’s such an important year (big exams are very near) and tht I’m not working like I used to anymore. And thts when I realized tht it’s true. Ever since I got into loa, I lost my dedication to study (and I know tht we don’t need effort or to work hard) but it was a trait of me tht I rlly liked. But when manifesting, I get so confident tht I’m like “I’m gonna be living my desired life anyway, I don’t need to do blah, blah, blah... And I’ve realized it’s been going on for a long time now and I’m stressing, I’m sooo behind everyone. And I feel rly delusional rn. On top of tht, I also just found out that my bff, the person I was just gushing abt how much I love her with, has said some stuff behind my back abt sth I messed up in the past that I don’t like to talk/think abt. This was apparently from quite a long while ago, but it suddenly hit me how she could’ve said some other crap abt me as well. Honestly I dun call anyone a BFF lightly, EVER. I’ve only ever considered her to be my one BFF and to know she’s done this just makes me feel so... idk I’m so sorry I’m all over the place rn. I feel so lost idk what to do anymore. And I feel like I’ve been so delusional and whatnot (and for all this to happen at my peak). Ik some of u reading this are probably thinking “work on ur sc” I know I know. But this is just rly hard on me rn and I feel so freaking delusional. I am so so sorry that you had to read all this. This was hella long and I’m so sorry. It’s okay if u don’t wanna answer this ask, I just wanted to let things off my chest bcus idk who to go to anymore and I feel like I’m abt to burst if I don’t let it out. I’m sorry again for this mess of an ask, if u read the whole thing, genuinely thank you thank you.

Hi sweetheart. I’m so sorry you’re dealing with all of this :( Whenever someone’s feeling overwhelmed I always advise them to take a break for a few days and just take it easy on themselves. Don’t worry about anything pertaining to manifesting for the time being, allow yourself to be sad and let all of those emotions out. No pressure, just take it day by day. When you finally feel up for it again, get back to self concept. Know that everything you just mentioned to me has a fix. It doesn’t need to be this way and you can always turn it around. But for now, just take care of yourself, okay? Your self concept won’t be affected.

#vents #struggling

[growup-thatbeautiful]

sad but not alone

Ahsoka and Rex post-order 66 fic

Word Count: 1,382

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, death, angst

Please let me know if you want to be on a tag list!

This is for @radbatch !! Happiest of birthdays! (Ik i’m late, but i wanted to do a little more) Share the Ahsoka love a little :))

Ahsoka doesn’t ask for help when she needs it. That’s something Rex has known for a very long time. It’s something all of the Jedi share, he’s learned. Cody has come to him countless times, complaining about General Kenobi’s recklessness and sleeplessness. Now is one of those times that Ahsoka isn’t asking for help.

It’s not like Rex is in some mentally stable place either, though. He’s probably one of the least qualified people to give advice in the face of an intergalactic crisis. Force, he just lost all of his brothers in a matter of hours. For the first time, he’s truly alone. No, he reminds himself, Ahsoka’s still here. Ahsoka, who’s so young and has had so much pain bestowed upon her, who treated every single man under her like a person, not a clone, who used to laugh with General Skywalker to distract the rest of them from death.

If he’s lost all his brothers today, she’s lost everyone slowly over time, taking the blows she’s been dealt standing tall. He doesn’t know what’s running through her head right now, but whatever it is he wants to be there with her for it. She’s the only person he’s really seen grow up, and he would be lying if he said he isn’t impressed with the fighter she’s become. But the Jedi aren’t supposed to be fighters, they’re supposed to protect peace. Peace, an idea he’s not even sure he could recognize.

If there’s one thing the 501st taught him, it’s that having someone to be sad with is better than having no one to be sad with.

Fives had been big on that. When they lost Echo, they had spent countless hours together, sitting in the silence of hyperspace. Rex would open his mouth to say something, maybe try and help Fives get through the loss, but he genuinely had nothing to say then. He still doesn’t have anything to say, but he still talks to Fives all the time. Ahsoka says that it’s healthy and that he could be out there listening. Rex doesn’t know if he believes her, but it’s a nice thought.

They walked away from the grave together, leaving a trail of footprints in the snow that they didn’t try at all to cover up. No one was supposed to survive that crash. That alone had given them the time they needed to build the grave in the first place.

It had been Ahsoka’s idea. The duty of burying the dead usually fell to clones below Rex, but he tried to be there most of the time to say goodbye. It’s always a sad occasion, of course it is. Saying goodbye to someone you’ve fought beside is never easy. Today was different. They didn’t lose in a hard-fought battle. Those men didn’t die protecting the Republic, they died with weapons pointed at their beloved Commander.

Ahsoka didn’t take the job lightly. Each body she found in various levels of destruction she treated tenderly, rearranging cold, dead limbs into peaceful, sleeping positions. Wiping the blood away, really just smearing it around. It breaks Rex’s heart how familiar she is with these motions. He’s no stranger to them either, and he would never make Ahsoka do it alone. For each of the brothers that he finds, the names fall off his lips like the meditative prayers of Kenobi. There’s so many of them. If it was ever eerie to see something so close to his own face staring back up at him, dead, that’s worn off. Years of this have made sure of it.

“Rex.” It’s one of the first things Ahsoka’s said since the crash. He follows her haunted voice, stopping when he sees why she called out.

Jesse. His helmet is cracked, a canyon through the Republic’s crest and Ahsoka’s paint, splitting it down the middle. His body is wrapped around himself, curled up like a child, like he was hiding from the screams and chaos. The armour on his chest is stained red, and his neck is bent at a broken angle. It brings Rex to his knees, hitting the floor hard. He doesn’t notice the impact, too preoccupied with the blinding and overwhelming pain from inside and the feel of tears streaming down his cheeks.

Ahsoka is on her knees beside him, a comforting hand on his back where he’s doubled over, making these terrible hitching noises in the back of his throat. He knows that whatever he’s feeling Ahsoka can feel too, and he doesn’t want to be the one to hurt her even more, but he can’t help it. The waves of tears keep coming until there aren’t any more, and he’s left with scratchy eyes and red cheeks. Through it all, Ahsoka stayed by his side. He looks up at her to see his tears mirrored on her face, quiet and impassive. One of her hands is facing palm up, resting on her knees, and she’s whispering soothing words for Jesse. Or Rex. Or both.

They help each other to their feet, ignoring the battle pains. The helmets are set up on pikes, the most they can do. Ahsoka leaves her lightsabers in the snow with the dead. Rex doesn’t have the energy to think about that significance.

They build a camp in a cave a little ways away, figuring that it’s better to be safe and wait it out a few days in case anyone comes looking. Rex doesn’t actually think that anyone will, and he’s pretty sure Ahsoka doesn’t either. But this isn’t a battle that they can recover from easily. No, they have to take a second to regroup.

Ahsoka starts a fire and Rex grabs some ration bars that he grabbed from the wreck. They sit side by side, shoulders pressed together tightly, reassuring each other that someone is there.

To his surprise, she opens up before he can ask her. It saves him the trouble of figuring out what to say. “I can’t feel anything. I’ve always had the force beside me, inside me, and now it’s out of balance. It’s like there’s this gaping darkness that was never there before, and I don’t know why. I don’t know if-“ her voice breaks here, and she covers her mouth, hiding a sob.

Predictably, she pushes through. “I don’t know if I made this happen. What if it’s my fault? It’s never felt this…wrong, and, stars, I can’t feel Anakin. It’s not the same as when I left the Order. Then it was distant, but he was still there with me. Now that part of me feels broken and painful. I think he’s gone.” A quiet confession by the fire, her face lit in shadows. It doesn’t surprise Rex as much as it should, but he knows the Padawan-Master bond is strong. If she says it, it’s true.

“I’m scared. Rex, I don’t want to be alone.” He knows this takes a lot for her to admit this. She’s usually the epitome of strength, never letting her guard down in front of the people counting on her. It’s a habit that she most likely picked up from Obi-Wan. Force knows it’s not Skywalker’s style. He can’t just leave that hanging, though.

“Hey, kid, it’s alright. You’ve been lost before, yeah? You’re gonna find your way again. Everything’s going to work out.” The last sentence falls flat. He’s not even fooling himself. “And maybe things won’t be okay, but we’re still us, right? I’ve still got my Commander with me, and you’ve still got your Captain. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

“Look, I can’t pretend to understand the force, but I know that, so far, it hasn’t led you wrong. Things are changing in the galaxy, and we can’t control that, so we might as well be along for the ride. I know you, Commander, and you’re not going to let this change you. Sure, you’re gonna grow with it, but you’ll always have what he taught you. What they all taught you. What I taught you.”

“So, trust in the force.” It’s something he’s heard General Kenobi say a million times to his Padawan and Grandpadawan. “Let it guide you. I’ll be right there with you.”

“Thank you, Rex.”

“Of course, Commander.”

#ahsoka tano #ahsoka star wars #ahsoka #ahsoka and rex #rex #captain rex #commander tano #commander rex #order 66 #post order 66 #ahsoka fic #ahsoka tano fic #rex fic #clone wars #clone wars fic #nxvna writing #nxvna post

[outerbankspreferences]

Into the Unknown - Sarah Cameron

Request:  Can you please do a sarah x fem reader were reader is a pogue and they are oposites. Like the reader dresses more sweat shirts and mom jeans. And they are kinda rivals because she’s a pogue but they spend a day together and realize they have feelings for each other. Could you also add in somthing bout not really knowing if reader really like girls but descoverse she’s bi after talking with Sarah (sorry Ik this is vv specific but I’m feeling some sorta way towards sarah so yea)

MASTERLIST

WORD COUNT: 1531

A/N: I hope I portrayed this the way you wanted!

You hated the thought tog going to the Kook academy, but when you got offered a scholarship your parents didn’t want you to give it up. You were an amazing artist, and your art teacher at your old school had helped you get the scholarship. You didn’t come from much. Both of your parents worked fulltime to help support you and your siblings. At first you didn’t want to go because you didn’t want to leave your friends. The Pouges were the closest thing to family you had.

 You only agreed because Kie went there, and said she finally wanted to have some friends. She had a falling out with Sarah Cameron the year prior. “Come on Y/N, it won’t be that bad. You can hang out with me. At least you’ll know someone.” Kie said sitting around the fire. “Oh yeah, hang out with the one who was no friends. Probably not a smart move.” JJ spoke up. Kie slapped him on the arm, “it’s the Kook princess’ fault I don’t have any friends. She told everyone I called the cops on her party.”

 “But you did call the cops on her party. I was with you when you did it.” John B interrupted her. “Okay who’s side are you on? She invited everyone in the school but me. The bitch got what she deserved.” Kie snapped at him. It was an unspoken agreement that none of you liked Sarah after what she did to Kie. They were best friends in grade 9 and then Sarah threw a party and didn’t invite Kie, so she got the party busted. You can still remember her calling you all the time crying, you felt so bad because there was nothing you could do to help her.

 “I plan on keeping my head down until graduation, I don’t want to meet anyone. I’ve got all the friends I need with you guys.” You said leaning back in your chair, watching the fire. “Probably a good idea.” Pope said to you, he knew how nervous you were for this.

 It was finally your first day at the Kook academy. You and Kie shared a room but didn’t have any classes together. She had showed the day before where all your classes were so you wouldn’t get lost, but this place was huge. You had been looking for you AP Art History, when you bumped into someone, “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking”- You cut yourself when you saw who it was, Sarah Cameron.

 “It’s okay, you’re Y/N, right? I think I’ve seen you at the boneyard a couple of times.” She said smiling. You didn’t really know why but she made you nervous. It was something you’d never felt before. All sudden you had not idea what to say to her. You realized she was waiting for an answer.

 “Uh, yeah that’s right. I’ve seen you there before too.” You confirmed, looking back down at your schedule. ‘don’t talk to her Y/N.’ you thought to yourself.

 “What class are you trying to find. I couldn’t find my way around this place for like a month.” She said grabbing the schedule out of your hand. “Oh, AP Art History, I’m in that class too, follow me.” She said leading you the way to the class.

 She was still looking over your schedule, “it looks like we have a lot of classes together, we should hang out I’ll help you find your way around. Who’s your roommate?” She asked walking fast through the halls, you were struggling to keep up. “Uh Kiara, and I’m sure I could find time to hang out.” You said trying to avoid the topic, Kie would kill you if you hung out with her. You guys made it to class right before the bell rang. “Kie would probably kill you for hanging out with me, it’ll be our little secret.” She said winking at you, and your heart flutter.

 This kept up for weeks, always hanging out, you learned a lot about Sarah. She was an artist too, and you guys spent a lot of timing drawing each other. You would catch yourself sketching her when she wasn’t around, simply drawing her silhouette.

 You’d never felt this way about another girl before. You always assumed that you were into boys, but maybe you were wrong. You and Kiara had gone down to the meal hall to eat supper, a normal night for the two of you. You hadn’t really been paying attention to what Kiara had been talking about, more focused on looking at Sarah. She seemed so confident with her friends, like she was on top of the world.

 “Y/N? Earth to Y/N.” Kie said waving a hand in your face, pulling out of your own little world. “Sorry, what did you say?” You blushed hoping she didn’t realize who you were staring at. “I said, Kelce asked me out for lunch next week, do you think I should go.” She seemed annoyed you weren’t listening in the first place. “I don’t know, he didn’t really have the time of day for back home so what’s different here? I think you should be careful.” You spoke honestly. She looked at you like you had five heads. It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but you were known for speaking your mind with your friends.

 “Well, aren’t you a supportive person.” She said laughing. You felt bad for what you said, not wanting to hurt her feelings. “I’m sorry Kie, I didn’t mean to be rude.” You spoke not wanting to start an argument. “I think I’m just going to go back to the room, I’m tired from volleyball today.” She said getting up, you tried to stop her put she didn’t listen. “Smooth move L/N.” You look up to see Sarah sitting in the place Kiara was sitting.

 “What are you talking about?” You asked even though you knew she just watched the whole encounter happen. “Kie, I know it can be hard living with your friend. We’re all going to the beach tonight if you want to come.” She offered smiling at you. “I don’t know Sarah; I’m not really dressed for the beach.” You gestured to the mom jeans and sweater you wore down to supper.

 “Yeah, I didn’t really want to go to the beach anyways, let’s go down to the art room, I still have to finish my project for Mr. Willis’s’ class. You both grab some snacks and head down laughing to each other. You got your easel all set up and started working on sketch. Sarah but some soft music on in the background to break up the silence. It was the nice thing about your friendship, you didn’t need to speak, just each others company was enough.

 It made you nervous to be alone with her. You were sure her friends didn’t like you, and yours didn’t. “So how did you get into the academy Y/N? I’m not trying to be mean, but I know you’re a Pouge, I thought your parents couldn’t afford something like this.” She asked, careful about how she worded things. “Uh, I got a scholarship, my old art teacher sent some of my work in without me knowing. It was Kiara who convinced me to come. It looks better to art schools apparently. I’m going to need a lot of help if I want to leave the Outer banks.” You explained not looking up from your drawing.

You weren’t normally this open with people, but with Sarah it was just easy. You never felt judge by her, she would let you talk all your problems away and never interrupt you. “Do you want to leave? The Outer banks I mean.” She asked sounding sad you didn’t want to stay. “Yeah, it’s every Pouges dream. I think I still want to live by the ocean, just not here.” You explained. “Sometimes I wish I could just get up and leave today, you know? No explanation just packs a bag and never come back. Go from town to town working a little when I needed the money.” You said looking over at her.

 She was staring back at you. “I wish I knew that freedom. I know you guys think being a Kook we have everything we could ever want, but I would kill for your freedom. I see you guys hanging out having so much fun in the summer. Know cares if you guys are late, or what you wear, or who you with. You don’t have an image to uphold.” You could tell she was being sincere about it. “We’ll leave one day Sarah, just me, you and the open road.” You said giggling, falling in love with the idea. “Promise?” she asked laughing, “Promise.” You replied.

 When you talked to her like this, it was when you knew you loved her. Sometimes you were sad because she was dating Topper, and clearly not interested in women, but you were happy you got to spend these moments with her. Just the two of you talking. Not a Kook and a Pouge, but two friends with a mutual understanding.

TAG LIST: @drewstarkey @fttayla @lemur46 @pita0402

#sarah cameron #sarah cameron outerbanks #sarah outer banks #outer banks #madelyn cline #sarah cameron x reader #sarah cameron x you #sarah cameron fic

[bo0zey]

ok this is like pt2 of that longass recent post so just ignore this bc this parts even STUPIDERR

anyways imma try to work on the rough draft after showering but i know i won’t have a enough time to finish it before clinical n ik she’s gonna call me out and wtf am i gonna say?????? i hate using my mental health as an excuse bc i feel like no one cares or believes me or thinks i’m just lazy and or crazy or being manipulative but like i swear i’m not i just happened to lose control over my frontal lobe at the wrong time of the school week i’m ??????? last time i turned in my annotated bib late too n she like ripped me a new one about it n i’m afraid of disappointing authority figures bc yknow my narcissist dad would only ever acknowledge my existence and express being proud of me when i got good grades like it was all i was worth to him; A’s meant affection and B’s meant “but u could’ve gotten and A so what happened??” n everything else meant NOT GOOD ENOUGH even in high school he hounded me “haha yeah ur #2 of ur class but what abt #1 huh why aren’t u #1?? i saw both ur gpas they’re so close omg they’re like a tenth of a decimal!” n i was like lol ok it was actually like .00 something, AKA a hundredth of a decimal, and still it wasn’t enough if i don’t do what i need to do in school if i don’t get good grades then i would have never meant anything to him i was his trophy daughter only worthy of facebook posts when he felt the need to brag abt me and now that’s all really have to base my self worth upon bc i felt like that’s all he valued in me n now i don’t do nearly as well in college as i did in high school bc i think it’s bc i was traumatized for like 12yrs of schooling with him looming over me and college i could like finally be a human??? lol ok ANYWAYSS sorry for trauma dumping lol so like yeah i already felt stupid n disappointed in myself n then she was making me feel even guiltier/more useless n like i think i’d been awake for >2 days that day n probs on my period so i was probably extra prone to crying n then she had the nerve to look me in the eyes and ask if i was okay bc she saw them watering up as she continued to progressively dig into me and i fuckjgn HATE that question i fuckjing hate being asked it bc i just ?? idk maybe it’s a trigger bc every time someone asks it(typically adult authority figures i know im disappointing but can’t stop self sabotaging) i just lose all control of self regulating my emotions n my eyes start Rlly watering then dripping and she was the absolute last person i’d ever want to cry in front of so i tried so hard to stop i nodded my head and smiled so hard and wide despite the mask covering half my face because i was trying to like get my body to control itself but my eyes just kept running and i wondered how i must’ve looked to her probably insane the way i was fighting a losing battle against a mental break down n i was smiling like a fucking clown to try and make my cheeks reach my eyes so it looked real so she could see it behind the mask and look past my watering eyes and the more tears that fell the harder i made myself smile and laugh all the while THE TEARS WOULD NOT STOP like i probably looked like a fuckjng raging mentally ill maniac to her esp when i pointed at my mask and was like “yes i’m fine i’m smiling underneath the mask i promise heheheh^.^” n giggled and then cried intermittently through the last 2 hours of clinical then silently on the car ride home bc i had to drive my roommate back w me n then as soon as i passed the door threshold i just broke down for literally NO FUCKJGN REASON??????????? like full on waterfall n my roommate turned n glanced at me n was like omg what happened what’s wrong??? MY NEXT 2 LEAST FAVKRJTE QUESTIKNS so obv i went from silent crying choking down sobs to total blubbering sobbing incontrollable inconsolable mess n it was so embarrassing bc i already burdened n traumatized her w my mental breakdown last august sooooo yeah that sucked lol n obviously what i was crying abt sounded so stupid i don’t even know why i would breakdown over something so stupid i’m so weak it’s honestly embarrassing lmfaooooomsbxbd🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

#god i am so fuckjgn annoying i cry abt the stupidest things i’m the worst kind of person i’m so selfish!!!!!! #i can’t stop self sabotaging bc in my core ik my worth as a human and my value of a life is so low at the nadir #i bring it all on myself tho i know that ok so i don’t need y’all being like ‘u did it to urself’ I LITERALLY KNOW THST OKKKKKKKK #im manic and have no filter just an influx of autopiloted thoughts #shut up cianna

[hargrove-mayfields]

so sorry im late asking this (i was waiting for you to get more, super surprised you didn’t get more asks tbh) but could I hear more about your wips “I have a crush on Barbara Holland” “baby fic” and “HOH Steve” also if it’s not too much “girlyfriends” and “cali house” and “medical emergency” ik ik that’s a lot but I’d honestly want hear about ALL of you wips in that list if i could. thank u in advance

It’s alright anon! I’ll accept these asks until I run out of WIPs to talk about!

I have a crush on Barbara Holland- This one is a soulmates au, where Steve has his soulmates initials, B.H., on his wrist, and he is whole heartedly convinced that that person is Barb. He’s very much in love with her, and there’s lots of talk about how pretty and nice she is (hence the title lol) but eventually she reveals that he isn’t her soulmate. Before she had hid the initials on her own wrist under a watch or a chunky bracelet, but she feels guilty, and shows Steve that her mark had long ago faded, because her soulmate passed away when they were in elementary school. Steve decides, despite how much value he used to hold in the whole soulmate thing, he doesn’t care about who some stupid mark says he should be with, so him and Barb date until her death. He’s heart broken, but the sadness very quickly turns into so much anger after Billy Hargrove, another B.H. rolls into town with a little S.H. on his wrist. He feels like the universe or whoever is even in charge of this soulmate bullshit is spiting him for thinking he could fall in love with someone he wasn’t destined to be with, so he rejects Billy for a long, long time, even after he himself figured it out that Steve is his match. When he does start to feel that way about Billy, he struggles with so much guilt and has to go through a very long grieving process to be comfortable with his feelings, because he’s not even sure if they’re his genuine feelings or the work of this soulmate bond. Very long and very angsty.

baby fic- Nancy gets pregnant that first time at the party with Tommy and Carol, and her and Steve try really really hard to make things work out for their baby, but it just isn’t meant to be. They make an arrangement that the Harringtons are very not pleased with, where Nancy has the baby at the Byers house half the time (because let’s be honest I think the Wheelers house is not really a safe place to be raising a baby) and Steve has her the rest of the time. Because it was like, a much more mature breakup without the cheating and the drunken confessions, they’re still pretty close friends. When the upside down starts making an appearance again, they have to try to figure out how to navigate it with this little four month old baby, and that means getting some help involved. Billy shows up at the Byers and instead of a fight, Steve’s all exhausted like oh good, you’re finally here, and gives him the worlds fastest run down of this monster fighting shit with a crying baby on his hip, and like, Billy just can’t say no to him asking him to go into the tunnels while he watches the baby. There is eventual Harringrove after a while, but it’s a slow burn for sure. This is also probably the least serious and least angsty thing I have ever started to write.

HOH Stevie- They’re all in the government hospital getting their post Starcourt once overs, Billy and El of course being rushed into surgery, and Steve’s about to get discharged when he gets addressed by name and just, does not respond at all. The doctor is like hmm, and checks his ears, and they find out he has almost no hearing in his left ear, and only about forty percent in the right. All that head trauma from the Russians and then all of the explosions of the fireworks, it leaves him deaf.

Everyone tries to be supportive, but his dad refuses to let him get hearing aids because he doesn’t believe he actually needs them (Steve’s a diagnosed hypochondriac) so for the next several months while his parents are still home waiting for their next trip, he’s struggling. He basically gets iced out by the party because he just can’t hear anything they’re saying, and the kids get tired of repeating themselves, and Nancy got insulted the one time he told her her voice is too quiet, and Robin wants to do things right for him, but she forgets sometimes, and will ramble on about something without looking at him and everytime he’s like great, I didn’t catch a single word of that, lovely talk though. It’s very frustrating and isolating and nobody seems to want to make accommodations for him.

The very same day that his parents leave for their latest vacation, he goes back to hospital. At first he just has to get more testing done, since it had been upwards of six months since the last time they saw him, and on his way out he notices Max in the waiting room chairs. He hadn’t seen much of her at all since Starcourt, so he checks on her, and at first she tells him to go away, because her friends have said some not so nice things about how much time she spends at the hospital, and assumes Steve is there to tell her Billy isn’t worth it too. Because that’s not the case, he ends up going in the room to visit Billy with her.

They do the small talk, the awkward, sorry about the fact that you’ve been in the hospital for six months now and nobody wants to come see you thing, and at some point Billy realizes that Steve can’t hear a damned thing he’s saying. He tests his theory by saying Steve’s name when he’s not looking and just waiting for him to answer but, surprise he doesn’t because he didn’t hear it at all, and Billy’s just like, you’re deaf aren’t you?

The progression of the fic is basically Steve coming to visit Billy everytime he has an appointment for his hearing (and more, but Bill doesn’t know that) but the day of his last appointment to make sure his hearing aids are functioning as well as they ever will for how bad off his hearing is, Billy’s acting different.

When he’d first walked into his room Billy had been surprisingly bright eyed and bushy-tailed for what he went through, but now he’s just acting all mopey. Max makes him tell Steve what’s wrong, and he confesses that he feels like he’s going to get left behind now that Steve’s all better, because then he has no real reason to visit him anymore. But Steve has one very good reason, and the rest of the story is him making sure Billy knows it.

girlyfriends- This’n’s sort of a non-canon compliant character study about aromantic! Billy, focusing on how awful and uncomfortable he felt with his past girlfriends, messing up dates and never going as far as they wanted him to, which at the time he pinned on liking boys instead, but then after he gets with Steve, he feels like this is different and he likes it, but he’s still not too big on all the lovey dovey, romance stuff. He rationalizes it as like, maybe just being a side effect of him being an asshole or something, but he‘s actually super insecure about how he is in relationships. There is a fluffy resolution though where he embraces his identity, it’s really not all doom and gloom, boo hoo I hate myself stuff.

cali house- Years after Starcourt, the boys have moved to a decent house in California using their government hush hush money, and they’re there for only about a month when Billy’s mother shows up at their door.

She says she caught wind that her son was back in town and wanted to come see him, after all this time. Billy of course lets her back in his life immediately, his mom meant so much to his recovery process and now that she’s here, he can’t turn her away, but Steve’s a little suspicious of her intentions.

He thinks that if she wanted to see Billy, she would’ve done that years ago before he ever even left Cali in the first place, or that you know, she wouldn’t have fucking left him behind. He tries to bring it up with Billy gently, but he won’t hear it, and he feels beyond hurt by the suggestion because he thinks Steve is just jealous that he’s spending time with his mother, who he hasn’t seen for upwards of fifteen years at this point.

They fight and avoid each other for a few days until Billy’s momma admits when he brings it up, over lunch or something saying like, “Steve thought you were using me or something, isn’t that crazy?” and she’s just like “Well, actually...”and tells him that money was tight, and she needed a little extra money, so Billy and his disability checks and his rich (boy)friend seemed like the perfect opportunity to get some.

He goes back home to Steve and expects him to be mad, to rub it in that he was right, but he’s really not, he’s super supportive, and you know, Billy finally realizes he doesn’t need to have this bullshit family thing with his mother, because he already has one, Max and Steve and his friends and all the people that actually care about him.

medical emergency (tw attempted suicide)-

Billy, who’s living on his own in an apartment downtown after Starcourt, deliberately doesn’t get his prescriptions refilled because he’s so done. He’s weak and he’s hurting and he doesn’t feel like himself anymore, and he just feels like he wouldn’t care if his body gave up, if he suffocated in his sleep or had another heart attack. So he doesn’t take care of himself, and when he runs out of oxygen he just doesn’t go get anymore, but he’s halfway to choking on his own blood when he realizes he doesn’t want to die.

He calls Steve, because he’s not calling the cops and he can’t remember anyone’s numbers in his panic, but Steve’s is written on his calendar, scribbled there because they were supposed to make plans for something with the kids. Steve takes him to the hospital, having to fight him to put the CPAP on him to make sure his lungs didn’t collapse before they could get him to Hawkins General, and Billy’s just, so bone tired.

They do all their treatment stuff and get his body back under control, so Steve finally asks him what happened, if maybe he needed someone around to help him remember his meds and stuff, and Billy just, he breaks, like a dam overfilled he just pours out with all of this helplessness and sadness he’d been feeling, how he doesn’t want to live the way he does or at all anymore, and Steve’s heart just breaks for him.

He moves in with him, nobody’s willing to leave him alone after what happened, and Steve (along with Billy getting a new therapist because the old one was incompetent enough to not notice how bad off he was) helps him to realize he has something to live for.

#answered #anonymous #ejs wips #ej writer #yeah theres no such thing as sending it late #if y’all want to ask me just ask me! dont worry about it!