#summer never ever gets easier for me and it always makes me want to die

[writingwithciara]

Broken Bond ~Chris Sturniolo~

summary: the stupid reason chris stopped talking to his best friend

pairing: chris sturniolo x reader

word count: 4.3k

notes: allusions to sexual content, nearly toxic chris, sweet baby matt

masterlist

y/n and chris were inseparable from kindergarten all the way up to the summer between freshman and sophomore year. it was as if chris just decided he didn’t want to be in her life anymore. and that shocked everyone. but unfortunately for him, she was always going to be a permanent fixture in his life, whether he liked it or not because she was still close with nick and matt. they never felt the urge to get up and abandon her like he did.

but he believed he had a good reason.

the summer between 9th and 10th grade, chris noticed that y/n changed quite a bit. she had gone to florida to visit her grandma for a week and when she came back, her shorts were shorter and her shirts seemed to be tighter. every time chris saw her, he had an over abundance of unfamiliar thoughts. he didn’t like them so to cope with the change, he stopped talking to her altogether. he started going out of his way to make sure whenever she was at the house that he wouldn’t be.

and it broke her heart.

she spent the first week alone, afraid that matt and nick would also change their minds and leave her too. but on a cold rainy saturday morning, when matt showed up to her house with movies and snacks, she knew he wasn’t going anywhere. and for the rest of that summer, y/n spent all her free time with nick and matt, almost completely forgetting that chris even existed.

when the boys announced they were moving to la to move their career along, they invite y/n to come with them. she was supposed to go to school there anyway so she figured it would be easier for everyone. so they packed their bags and headed west.

when they got to town and the boys began their career, y/n found herself feeling alone again. especially when the boys had to leave to film a video. or when they went on tour. she joined them when she could but most of the fans were never happy with her presence, despite her blossoming career as a youtuber.

it was never matt or nick that made her feel alone though. they publicly defended her against the fans & spent whatever time they could with her. it was always chris who would make her feel unwanted. he just didn’t seem to care.

but he cared so much.

he could tell that basically abandoning her in sophomore year had really hurt her, both physically and emotionally, and he wanted to go back and change it all. but he couldn’t do anything about it now, nor could he get rid of the impure thoughts that littered his brain whenever she was around. she used to be his best friend and he shouldn’t have been feeling that way to begin with.

he couldn’t take back what he did in the past but he could try to make up for it in the present.

whenever he would see a fan comment something mean about her, he would send that person a message, completely defending y/n. but nobody ever knew about it.

so when the hate started to die down, chris felt like he did a good job. y/n was confused at first as to why she was getting fewer and fewer hate comments but brushed it off, happy they weren’t being mean to her anymore. it started taking a toll on her mental health. luckily for her, she still had matt. he helped her through her first everything and they were suddenly the inseparable ones. probably even more so than y/n and chris once were.

---

y/n was sitting in her room when nick called her. although she was confused, she picked up her phone and smiled. “why are you calling me when you live right upstairs?”

“y/n, i tested positive for covid so i'm stuck in quarantine until i'm better. and seeing as how you were just with me earlier today, i feel like you should get tested too, just in case.”

“oh okay.” y/n grabbed the text from her nightstand and sighed. she took the test and waited on the phone with nick. when it came back negative, she was relieved. she didn’t want to be stuck in her room all day every day. “i'm sorry you have it, nick. do they boys have it?”

“matt does but chris keeps testing negative.”

“so i can’t hang out with my 2 best friends but i'm gonna be stuck with chris? i would much rather have covid, honestly.”

“the week is going to fly by. i promise.” y/n smiled at her best friends optimism.

“i could always pretend i have it so i can avoid him.”

“that’s true.” nick chuckled. “but why would you do that?”

“i can’t be around him, nick.” y/n sighed.

“girl, it has been 6 years. it’s about time you bury your grudge.”

“i tried. but you can’t just get rid of several years of feeling every emotion. i loved him at one point and the fact that it was before he ditched me really hurts.”

“if it makes you feel any better, i could tell you why he ditched you, even if it is the most ridiculous reason ever.”

“you know?”

“not entirely. but i did read his journal entry from that date and although it lacked detail, it’s pretty obvious why he did it.”

“tell me.”

nick decided to describe the reason in as much detail as he could create. he painted a vivid picture for y/n but she didn’t seem to believe that was the reason chris stopped talking to her.

later that day, y/n was in the kitchen preparing a meal for the boys when chris decided he was hungry. he walked up the stairs and stopped at the top when he saw y/n at the stove. he could’ve turned around and headed back down to his room before she knew he was there but his stomach rumbled so he decided to walk to the fridge. y/n turned at the exact moment chris was reaching for the door, causing her to nearly slap him with the spatula she was holding.

neither of them said a word as they silently stared at each other. the tension was palpable and seeing y/n dressed in sweats with her hair up in a messy bun, caused chris to cough awkwardly. he shifted slightly as he tried to look anywhere but her face.

y/n was the first to break the silence. “what are you doing out of your room?”

“was hungry.” chris shrugged nonchalantly and opened the refrigerator. “need food too you know.”

“yeah but i figured you would’ve seen me and went back into your room, seeing as how that’s the way it’s been for 6 years.”

“my need for food was too strong.” chris turned but avoided her gaze. he looked down at the food in front of her. he went to grab some off the plate but she smacked his arm and pushed him away.

“this is for the 2 brothers who didn’t abandon me.” she looked at him.

“can you make me something too?”

“no.” she grabbed the plate and walked to matt’s room first. when she walked in, matt noticed she wasn’t wearing the mask she was supposed to.

“where’s your mask? i don’t want you to get sick too.”

“matt, i keep telling you that i don’t care. i'll be fine. and even if i do get sick, i know you’ll take care of me.”

“what makes you say that?” he asked, jokingly raising an eyebrow.

“okay fine. guess you don’t want this wonderful & delicious food i made you.” she picked up the plate and went to walk towards the door but matt’s whines stopped her.

“you know i'd take care of you. in sickness and in health.” he chuckled. y/n set the plate back on his desk and smiled.

“the way you’re talking sounds like we’re making a wedding vow.”

��that’s the deal, remember?” matt smirked, causing y/n to think back to their junior year of high school.

she had been in a relationship with a member of the lacrosse team for quite some time so when he abruptly dumped her with no explanation, she began to wonder if there was any hope for her. matt found her after a game and they had made the promise to marry each other if neither of them were in a serious relationship by the time they were 25.

“yeah i remember.” y/n smiled. “but i highly doubt that’s going to happen, matt.”

“and why do you say that?”

“because look at you. you’re…good looking and you have a great personality. plus, you’ve dated way more than i have. i think it’s safe to say that you’re more likely to be in a serious relationship at 25 years old than i am.”

“don’t sell yourself so short. you're good looking too, obviously. and you have the biggest heart out of anyone i know. your personality rocks and you’re going to find the right guy someday. gary just wasn’t the right one, of course.”

“you’re my favorite triplet, you know that right?”

“oh i am fully aware.” he chuckled and took a bite of the food she made. “don’t worry. i won’t tell nick.”

“i'm sure you will eventually.” y/n kissed his head and walked back to the kitchen. she ignored chris and took nick’s plate to his room. he was asleep so she left the plate on his nightstand and went back to the kitchen.

she had only been out of the room for 10 minutes and chris had somehow managed to make a huge mess.

“what the fuck are you doing, chris?”

“i'm trying to make myself some food since you won’t do it for me.” he rolled his eyes and focused back on the grilled cheese he was trying to make. or burn, y/n wasn’t sure what the endgame was.

“holy shit, you’re helpless.” y/n rolled her eyes and moved him out of the way. “go to your room and i'll call you up when it’s ready.”

“i don’t get room service?”

“don’t push your luck.” she pointed the spatula at him threateningly and smiled to herself as he retreated to his room in defeat. she began to cook his food and questioned why he was even talking to her, eventually chalking it up to the fact he was probably lonely without nick or matt.

when she finished cooking, she decided to bring it down to him. she knocked on the door and opened it slowly when she heard the faint ‘come in’. she set the plate down and was about to walk out when chris called out for her.

“wait, hold up.” he turned around in his chair and looked up at her. “thank you.”

“no problem.” she stood awkwardly as he stared at her. “can i go now? got a big mess to clean up.”

“yeah you can go. but, um, don’t worry about the mess. i did it so i'll clean it.”

“okay?” y/n was more confused now than she was earlier. she walked out of the room as chris resumed the game he was playing.

chris' eyes roamed the computer screen in front of him but his mind was running rampant with thoughts again.

“how am i supposed to get her out of my head?” he muttered to himself. he could hear nate laughing on the other end of the headset.

“still can’t believe you stopped being her friend just because she got boobs.”

“she got boobs and she got hot. all it took was one week.” chris sighed.

“and you’ve been in love with you since you were 8. in case you forgot, that was before she was hot. so why did her, um, development have to change the dynamic between you two?”

“i don’t know. it just did.” chris sighed frustratedly and looked down at his phone, suddenly coming with a way to get rid of the thoughts that wouldn’t leave. “i'm gonna go now. play later though, okay?” nate said his goodbyes before chris hung up. his attention turned to his phone. he picked it up and opened instagram. the first post he saw was a picture of y/n and he thought it was perfect. he took a screenshot and added it to his album filled with pictures of her through the years. chris swiped a few times until he settled on a picture of y/n that he always loved. he knew matt had taken it but he didn’t care. she was smiling and wearing an orange fresh love hoodie. it was right after he launched his brand and he gave them each a hoodie, purposely giving y/n the orange one, even thought it would drive him crazy.

and it was certainly driving him crazy. he hated that it didn’t take much for him to get excited but he also loved that it was only y/n that could do it for him.

y/n was watching netflix in the living room when she just happened to glance over at the kitchen. it was still a mess and she hadn’t seen chris in a few hours.

curiosity got the best of her and she found herself slowly approaching chris’ bedroom door. it was slightly ajar and she could see a faint light coming from the crack, along with some low music coming from his speaker. his voice could be heard but he was muttering something y/n couldn’t hear. she quietly pushed the door open a little more and her jaw nearly dropped at the sight before her.

chris was facing away from her but from the way his arm was moving, y/n knew what was going on. that didn’t bother her though. it was what he was getting himself off to that bothered her. there, right on his screen, was a picture of her. it took every ounce of self-control not to scream out loud or go over and berate him for using a picture of her.

she stood there, unable to move, and watched as chris finished himself off. he rolled onto his back with his eyes closed and y/n found herself finally able to make a run for it. too bad she suddenly lacked the coordination to do so and crashed into the wall. chris' shot open and he looked at y/n. she was trying to look anywhere other than him. he pulled the blanket up to cover himself and couldn’t find the words he needed to say.

“i just….i’m just gonna head out now.” y/n almost slipped as she stood up and rushed back up to the living room. there was no way she just witnessed that.

the week that followed was even more awkward than it had been before. y/n never went out of her own way to avoid chris before but how was she supposed to look him in the eye after what she saw?

when nick and matt both tested negative and were able to come out of their rooms, matt was the first to point out the tension in the air. nick brushed it off and told y/n she was going to be in their car video, giving her no time to argue as the 4 of them piled into the car.

matt took them to mcdonald’s to get food then drove them to an empty parking lot and they began to film. y/n wasn’t sure of what the topic was and the only thing she could focus on was chris.

“how are you guys feeling today?” chris asked, keeping his gaze on matt, fearing that if he looked to the backseat, y/n would disappear.

“i'm feeling fantastic actually.” nick threw a few fries into his mouth. “so glad i can actually taste things again.”

“yeah me too.” matt smiled and shoved some fries in his own mouth. “i'm also glad that you two didn’t kill each other or burn the house down while we were stuck in our rooms.”

“chris almost burned it down on the first day.” y/n stirred her mcflurry and looked at matt. “after i brought you your food that day, i returned to the kitchen and this kid was wither trying to consume a charred sandwich or was intentionally trying to burn the house down.”

“hey now.” chris spoke directly to y/n but caught himself and looked at matt. “she refused to cook me a meal.”

“i don’t blame her.” nick rolled his eyes and looked back at y/n. “but you should’ve known letting the kid in the kitchen unsupervised would result in a disaster.”

“did you end up making him food anyway?” matt chuckled.

“of course. couldn't let him attempt it again.” y/n attempted to joke and looked up to see chris looking at her through the rearview mirror. he looked away quickly. nick witnessed the awkward interaction and he shared a look with matt. matt stopped recording so they could address the tension in the car privately.

“what’s going on with you two? one minute, things are back to normal between you two & the next second, it’s like you guys were never friends at all.”

“yeah. what happened?”

“nothing happened.” y/n and chris said at the same time. nick shook his head, clearly not buying it.

“that’s fucking bullshit. the tension, as strong as it was before, has never been this intense. why is it so awkward? did someone see something they shouldn’t have?” nick chuckled and when they didn’t respond, his eyes widened. “wait, what?!”

“you’re joking, right?” matt glanced between them. “tell us.”

“i’d rather not. it was kind of embarrassing.” y/n looked out the window behind nick.

“so did chris see something?”

“no. y/n saw something.” chris sighed and looked back at y/n. “and i'm sorry.”

“it’s okay, chris.” y/n avoided eye contact and opted to look at matt.

“well, what did you see then?” nick questioned, getting more and more invested in the story.

“she caught me, um…..” chris glanced down at his lap, hoping his brothers would pick up on the hint. they did, immediately going crazy.

“what? no way!” matt couldn’t contain his laughter. nick on the other hand was too grossed out to even speak.

“told you it was embarrassing.” chris glanced out the window, hoping nobody would bring up what he was using to satisfy himself and thanking y/n for not mentioning it.

the rest of the video went by rather smoothly after the revelation. when they got back to the house, y/n and chris were in the kitchen while the other 2 went to shower. chris was focused on his phone and y/n was finally ready to ask why.

“i know it’s a week late but i was just wondering-“

“no, i'm not going to tell you why it was your picture. i don’t need you to hate me anymore than you already do.” chris sighed, not even taking his view off the phone as he answered the question she never finished.

“chris, i don’t hate you. and as much as i have tried to do it in the past, i just can’t. you may hate me but we’re clearly going to be in each other’s lives forever, whether or not we want to  be. so maybe we should just start at the beginning.”

“i don’t hate you, y/n. that’s the fucking problem.” chris set his phone down and finally looked up at her. she was scared of the sudden aggressiveness in his tone.

“then why the fuck did you stop talking to me before sophomore year?!”

before chris could answer, matt came out of his bathroom. his hair was still damp and he was attempting to dry it with a towel. he looked up and could feel the tension again. “what just happened?”

“nothing.” chris picked up his phone and went down to his room, slightly slamming the door.

matt just turned to y/n with an apologetic look. “i'm sorry.”

“not your fault.” she sighed and walked over to him. “let’s just go to your room.”

matt didn’t argue with her as they both climbed into the bed, passing out shortly after.

chris was not as lucky. he stayed awake for most of the night, trying to come up with a valid explanation for the picture.

when he finally managed to get to sleep, he was woken up by a soft knock on his door frame. he looked up to see y/n standing in the shadows. he sat up straight and looked towards her.

“we need to talk, chris. so please don’t brush this whole thing off. i'm being serious. don't change the topic when you know i want a clear answer. got it?”

as rare it was, chris loved it when y/n would get a little bossy. thankfully, it was dark and the blanket was hiding everything from view. “okay.”

“first, i need to know why you ditched me that summer. then i need to know why it was my picture you were jerking off to. and please don’t lie to me, chris. i know your tell.”

“if you know my tell, then how come you couldn’t figure out that i have never once had a bit of hatred towards you in my life? how come you didn’t figure out anything from the past? i don’t think you know what my tell is.”

“fine. i don’t. but i want to know the reason you dropped me like i meant absolutely nothing to you. are you gonna tell me or am i just going to have to go tell matt what you were using when i caught you?”

“fine. i'll tell you. just please don’t tell him. he’ll kick my ass for being a ‘pervert’ and i would rather that not happen.” chris shifted himself on the bed as y/n walked closer. she was wearing matt’s blue fresh love t-shirt and her legs were bare but chris knew she had shorts underneath. “the reason i stopped talking to you that summer was because when you came back from florida, you changed.”

“changed how? my tastes and personality were exactly the same.”

“no. i mean, um…” he hovered his hands over his chest and gestured them outwards. y/n quirked  an eyebrow before catching on.

“oh.” she looked down at her feet. “that’s the stupidest excuse i have ever heard.”

“i had to stay away from you as much as possible because when you came around, my mind was fully clouded with very impure thoughts and i didn’t want to keep them. plus, i didn’t want to be around when all the guys came out of the woodwork to ask you on a date. i figured with distance and time, i could stop myself from wanting to kick the crap out of every guy that suddenly decided you were interesting, just because you had boobs.”

“chris-“

“and then gary, the only guy i ever truly felt jealous of, asked you out and you guys dated for a while. i hated that so much. he didn’t treat you how you deserved.”

“oh, and you did?” y/n felt angry at this revelation. “you don’t get to stand there and tell me how i deserve to be treated when you didn’t treat me any better than those guys did. it's complete bullshit, chris.”

“i was a stupid teenager all jacked up on hormones. i didn’t know how else to deal with the feelings that were bubbling up inside.”

“that’s still no excuse, chris. do you have any idea how many nights i cried myself to sleep after, thinking i just wasn’t ever going to be good enough to be your friend? every fucking night, chris!” y/n tried to keep her voice down but she kept getting angrier. chris pulled her into his room and shut the door.

“will you keep it down? you're gonna wake matt.” chris let go of her shoulders and sat back on his bed as y/n began to pace.

“the way you’ve been treating me for 6 years is not fair. do you know how hard it was to get over you? it seriously fucked with my mental health.” y/n paused and looked over at chris. “so, were my boobs the only reason you stopped talking to me?”

“yeah. well that, and the fact that i had a terrible crush on you since we were 8. you should know that i'm not the best at expressing how i feel. i do stupid stuff all the time. for instance, i have an entire album on my phone filled with pictures of you and since i'm being honest, i use them sometimes.”

“for what?”

“seriously?” he looked up at her and noticed she was standing at the end of the bed. he could see the look of realization flash through her eyes.

“oh. right. that thing.” y/n shifted on her feet before sitting on the end of the bed, facing chris. “so why did you use my picture? why not use one of the other girls you find attractive?”

“i literally don’t find any other girl attractive.” he looked away from her and missed the look she shot him. he only looked up when he felt the mattress move beneath him. when he finally looked back at her, she was sitting in front of him.

“you’re lying.” she looked into his eyes and held the eye contact as he swallowed nervously

“no i'm really not.” he shook his head and his eyes flicked down to her lips. “you’ve always been the only attractive girl i know. and i'm sorry i could never find the proper way to tell you.”

“well you’re telling me now.” she looked at him. “the next time you need to ‘take care of yourself’ please come find me. i would be more than happy to help.” y/n climbed off the bed and made her way back to the door. “good night, chris.”

she walked out of the room, leaving chris no opportunity to beg for her help.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @carolinalikesthings @fearfam69691

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader

[hopelessromantic5]

Part 2 of ghost-visit merthur Drabble.

Magic reveal included.

The blonde studied his manservant, as he was in the habit of doing, lately. Merlin was nervous and perhaps even…scared?

What possible reason could Merlin have to fear him?

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” Arthur did not need an answer, he already knew that he wouldn’t.

“Maybe-“ Merlin stopped and started again. “It might be easier if I show you.” He was quiet, only illuminated by the light coming into the princes chambers from the corridor.

Arthur honestly didn’t have any idea what was about to happen.

When it was over, he felt like an idiot for not seeing it sooner.

The first thing Merlin did was cup his palms together, in front of his chest, eyes closed, as if he were praying.

He, all at once, opened his hands and his eyes, revealing a glowing blue butterfly, Arthur focused on it only for a heartbeat, gasping at the sight.

Then he caught Merlin’s own gaze, blue eyes turned golden like the heat of the sun, shining brighter than any fire Arthur had ever seen.

The Prince felt many things. Confusion and shame and anger, at himself, at Merlin, at his father.

But surprisingly, Arthur felt no fear. He didn’t get that sickening drop in his stomach that normally occurred when confronted with magic.

He had the quick thought that maybe it was because the magic was always being used by people who wanted him dead.

Instead of that unbearable chill in the air, Merlin’s magic left Arthur feeling like he’d just been out training in the summer. He felt renewed, recharged.

When Merlin let the butterfly disappear into the room, brightening the space about a foot in either direction of its flapping wings, his eyes faded back to their stormy blue, rainclouds over the ocean.

Arthur was speechless.

A million scenes over the past few years played through his mind’s eye with this new knowledge now secured. Everything seemed to make a little more sense. The prince never being able to find Merlin in times of trouble, his manservant always disappearing and hiding behind trees while bandits were being tripped by roots that weren’t there before, felled by branches falling at the perfect time. Victories being won against foes that Arthur had no recollection of defeating.

Arthur should be dead ten times over, probably. If not for the man who stood before him. If not for magic.

He couldn’t find words for a long time.

Merlin did not rush him.

He just stood silently, waiting for whatever fate he assumed was awaiting him. Arthur could only imagine the worst case scenarios playing through his manservant’s mind and it was enough to make him sick.

Finally after taking a deep breath into his lungs, the prince spoke.

“I understand.”

Merlin blinked his eyes three times, an instinct in Arthur nearly verbalized that he was akin to an owl, he thought better of it.

“You-you what?”

“I understand why you didn’t tell me. I can only assume this is not a fact that you share with many people, let alone…you know, me.” Arthur’s nerves were beginning to catch up to him. He wasn’t used to being so bare and unguarded, and certainly not in front of Merlin.

But another fact he was settling upon him was that Merlin had the upper hand here. He’d possibly always had it, from that very first day. Yet, even when Merlin was his most fed up, his most aggravated with Arthur, even at times when they refused to speak to each other out of pure stubbornness, Merlin never turned on him. Never even used his magic to give Arthur a good smack over the head (that he probably deserved).

Even when Merlin had to watch his own people die on the pyre, he never turned on Arthur.

Not even when he learned what Arthur did that awful day. A quiet Druid camp drowned in the screams of the innocent because he was too much of a coward to stand up to his father, and not enough of a Prince to get his knights to obey his orders of sparing the children. Even though, he failed.

Merlin never lost faith in him. The prince still sees it, even now.

“You’re not…angry?” This voice was small compared to his usual boisterous demeanor.

“I am angry.” Arthur nodded. “But only at our circumstances. If I were not here and you were not there, none of this would be as difficult as it is.”

“You must know,” Merlin whispered. “I’ve only ever used it to help you. To ensure that you and this kingdom were safe.” The prince saw him swallow, one of his many tells. Merlin is nervous. “Arthur, I told you this once before, but back home I was…lost. I had all of this pent up energy and nowhere to put it down, I felt I had no true purpose there. I’ve since learned many things that all led me to one conclusion. I’m supposed to be here, at your side. To make sure you actually survive long enough to ascend the throne-“

Arthur almost interjected to say he didn’t need protecting but clamped his mouth shut because he knew, now, that wasn’t necessarily true, as much as he hated to admit it.

“-but also because…Well,” Merlin cleared his throat, Arthur took a moment to wonder what he was about to say that was causing him to be so antsy. “I do not think I could leave, even if you ordered me to go. I…I think being away from you would probably rip me apart.” He laughed a humorless, pitiful laugh and was looking down at feet. Arthur watched a tear fall from his eyes like the first raindrop and land on the stone floor.

“I could never send you away.” Arthur shook his head. “You’re just as necessary to this kingdom’s survival as I am.”

Merlin audibly gasped, Arthur went on as if he didn’t hear it.

“I want Camelot to be…I don’t know, good, for lack of a better word. I want it to be welcoming and bright and full of life. Not plagued with death and decay and heartache. I do not want even our poorest citizens to have to wonder what they will eat in the winter. I don’t want another person stepping foot into this kingdom and immediately witnessing a beheading, or a pyre being lit. That is not the kind of place I wish to govern. All I can do is my best, but I need you here. I need you with me. I only ever considered that I could truly change the way things are, when,” he took a heavy breath, “when I realized that you actually believed in me. That you, an insubordinate, treasonous, outsider that had absolutely no reason to ever think such things, you actually had faith that I could do it. And since that day, your faith has been what keeps me going. So you can’t-“

Arthur hadn’t dared to watch Merlin while he spilled his messy heart all over the room. The first shining of the sun was rising over the horizon and soon, they would have to face each other in the daylight.

“You can’t leave, okay?”

The prince walked further into his chambers as he spoke, away from the door, lest any of the guards overhear their conversation.

“That may be selfish of me to request, knowing that you are constantly in danger here. But I am also in a position where I can make sure that you never face the hands of my father. I would never let him hurt you, you know that, right?”

A chuckle was heard from where Merlin still stood behind him,

“I do now.” It was emotional and ridiculous but Arthur was relieved. That Merlin was still Merlin.

“Good.” The prince sighed. “We can discuss this more tomorrow. You can tell me everything I’ve, apparently, missed.”

“Absolutely, sire.”

Arthur turned after a few moments of silence and Merlin was still standing there, in the middle of the room.

“Merlin?”

“Yes, sire?”

“Is there something else you wanted to say?” The prince couldn’t help the smile that was creeping up his face.

“Um…” The raven boy cleared his throat, again. Looking unsure, with more light in the room, Arthur could see his brows pinched. “No, no. Nothing we can’t discuss tomorrow.”

“You’re sure?” At this point Arthur was wondering if either he or the both of them were in immediate danger.

“Well I’m not exactly sure if she would want me to tell y-“

“She?!” Arthur voice, embarrassingly, cracked in the middle of his outraged cry. Merlin looked at him like he had goat horns growing out of his head.

In a much calmer tone, Arthur continued.

“And who is ‘she’?”

Something bloomed on Merlin’s face that had Arthur wary.

“Before we get to that, I have a question for you.”

“For me?”

“Considering this is officially the first day that we’re being honest with each other, someone told me that you have a secret of your own and I’d like to know what it is.”

Arthur, dumbfounded and feeling somewhat ambushed, could not think of anything to say other than,

“I didn’t hear a question.”

Like an idiot.

“Must you be so difficult? What is it you’re not telling me? How do you even have time in the day to keep secrets? I know where you are every minute.”

“Technically, I already told you.”

Arthur decided he would much rather brood out the window, staring at the sunset than watch Merlin flinch away from him in disgust.

“When?” The man honestly had no idea.

The prince rolled his eyes, pushing away a stupid smile.

“Just now, you idiot.”

“Did I miss part of the conversation? When did you-“ at the sound of Merlin cutting himself short, Arthur’s neck swiveled. He watched the pieces come together and realization finally hit.

He looked confused.

“I’m confused,” Of course. “You can’t possibly mean-“

“When I said your faith keeps me going, I meant it, Merlin.” There he was, standing in the morning rays, breathtaking as ever, the reason Camelot remains standing. Looking at Arthur as if he were speaking a different language.

“I rise out of that bed every morning simply because I know you will be there.”

This was not the prince and his manservant, this was just Merlin and Arthur. Two boys that met under unfortunate and unfair circumstances.

“And in those gut wrenching moments when I can’t find you, the fear feels as if it might kill me. If anything ever happened-“ Arthur turned his head away and swallowed a sob that threatened to ricochet through him at the mere thought.

“I would probably burn the entire world to the ground.” He whispered. More as a thought to himself, a thought he had never let come to pass.

It was silent for a few heartbeats. Merlin broke it.

“There is a word for that.”

Arthur hung his head at that. Defeat.

He’d finally been bested.

It finally caught him. He’d been evading it for years before Merlin came along, always sidestepping its ever-growing reach.

“Yes, there is.” He admitted. The morning was surreal and glowing, everything had a halo of rainbows. Arthur was running on nothing but adrenaline and at his confession, all of the energy completely drained out of him.

“Though,” Merlin took a step in his direction, and then another. “I shouldn’t. Against my better judgment…I love you, too.”

Arthur had been branded in that moment. As if Merlin had touched his bare skin with a red-hot poker. The words echoed through his emptying mind and bounced off the walls of his chambers.

“I don’t believe you.” Arthur could not catch them before the words fell out of his face.

He was met with chuckling.

Had he said something funny?

“You don’t believe me? The entire bloody kingdom can see it and you, stubborn arse, refuse to believe it, of course.” Merlin rolled his eyes. “Why would I tell you I love you if I didn’t mean it?”

“To make me feel better?” Arthur offered.

“As much as I would hate to hurt your feelings, I would never lie to you about that.”

Arthur suddenly had a thought.

“If that’s the case then who’s the woman?”

“What woman?”

“Earlier you said you weren’t sure if ‘she’ wanted you to tell me. Who’s she? And what did she tell you?”

“Oh.” Merlin fell silent.

And simultaneously, the room went dark.

Arthur’s first thought was that he blacked out. But no. He was still standing in place, he could hear the bustle of the castle beginning to rise for the day.

Someone had merely closed the curtains, blocking out the sun completely.

“Merlin? Did you do that?” Instinctively, his hand when to the hilt of his sword.

“No.” Followed immediately by, “Take my hands.”

“What?”

“I’m going to show you something. Take my hands.”

Arthur could only ever trust Merlin. With everything. His heart, his life, his kingdom.

His manservant’s eyes began to glow the second their hands touched.

It took the prince by surprise by he didn’t pull away. It seemed to take Merlin somewhat by surprise, also. His hands were buzzing, humming with power, Arthur fingers became numb from it after seconds.

Over the ringing in his ears the prince heard Merlin mumble,

“She’s here.”

The buzzing of his skin ceased, his eyes remained golden, blinking and unseeing.

“Who’s here?”

“Turn around and see for yourself.”

Arthur’s brows pinched in confusion, the heavy door at the entrance to his chambers had not been opened. They would’ve heard it.

He turned, dropping Merlin’s hands in the process, shocked beyond words to actually see a figure standing there.

Pale and beautiful. And sad.

He knew her upon sight.

Not because he had any memory of her face to call upon, no portraits were ever painted of her, but he knew, the way every child knows their mother.

He was stuck in place, memorizing every detail that he could to take with him later. To cherish.

“Arthur, my boy.” She spoke softly, only interrupted by her own crying.

Rather than trying to speak again, she crossed the distance between them and engulfed him in a hug.

The hug Arthur thought he would never have. The warmth of which, he’d gone an entire childhood without.

There truly was nothing more healing than being surrounded by a person who loves you, unconditionally.

“H-how did- why-?” Arthur cut each thought short because they did not seem important enough.

“I’m so sorry, mother.” He whispered into his mothers shoulder, silently letting wells of tears flow. “You should never have met such an awful fate because of me.”

“Hush now, none of that.” The Queen placed her hands on either side of Arthur’s face, holding him up. “I have been here with you, all this time, Arthur. That is all I ever wanted; To be with you. That is the only regret I carry regarding your birth, I would do it all again, if it meant you got the chance to live.”

“You’ve been…here? In the castle?”

She nodded.

“Seeing but never seen.” Arthur was both elated and heartbroken at seeing his mother this way. “That was the rule. Though, I think with your friend over there, anything is possible.”

“Yes, I’m beginning to think he’s more powerful than he lets on.” The absurdity of this conversation was not lost on him. If anyone had told him five hours ago that this would be his new normal, he’d probably have them thrown in the stocks.

His mother laughed and it was a beautiful sound, like the the high chiming of the wind charms made by a woman in the lower town, citizens hang them to hear them sing when the Earth is speaking through the breeze.

“I think you underestimate him quite a bit, your highness.” She shook her head at him, as every other mother had that Arthur always looked upon and wondered. “Merlin is magic. He is the power of the earth made human. And his loyalty is to you. You are a very fortunate king, indeed.”

“Not King yet, mother.”

She sobered immediately from her playfulness.

Arthur did not have to guess why.

“Do not listen to your father, Arthur. It may go against all you’ve been taught but he is not always right. In fact, he is almost always wrong. Especially in terms of political affairs, but always with you. What he says to you, of you, is what he thinks of himself. He is angry because he is getting old and he cannot control time. He has taken his life’s hardships out on you and you never deserved that, Arthur. You are a great man and you will make a fantastic King.”

As the last words fell, she began to fade, slowly. But her skin was turning more translucent with every second. Arthur mourned all over again.

“Our time has run out, my boy, even our Merlin can only hold the connection so long. But I will always be here, should you need me.”

“I love you, mother.”

“I love you, too, Arthur.” Faint, but Arthur heard it.

Then, she was gone.

And now Arthur had to pick up the eight year old version of himself that was currently balled up in the center of his chest, and put him back where he goes. In a dark dusty corner of his mind.

It was quiet for a few moments.

The prince turned to find Merlin sat in the floor, the same spot he had been standing, on the other side of the room.

The manservant rose shakily.

“Well, that was…”

“Yeah, it was.” Arthur sighed, long and exhausted.

“Merlin, you are going to go tell my father that I have been unwell since supper last night. Then you will come back here.” Arthur began to unclad himself of belts and tunics.

“Tomorrow, we talk. Today, We are taking a well-deserved nap.”

“You’re inviting me to…take a nap with you.” The blonde could hear the smile creeping into Merlin’s voice as he spoke but decided he was too tired to scold him.

“Yes, Merlin. Or you’re welcome to go sleep in Gaius’ chambers with him banging beakers and books around all day. Be my guest.”

“I’ll be back in a flash, sire.”

Arthur turned just in time to see Merlin wink at him before leaving.

So, this was the new normal.

Arthur liked it.

#merthur #merlin #merlin and arthur #arthur pendragon #merthur fic #bbc merlin #part 2 #Igraine #thanks for all the love on the first part #wanted to get this out before moving onto my more depressing project #lol #Arthur is jealous #it’s kinda funny

[celtic-crossbow]

• It’s Alright, It’s Okay

• And Now We Get to Fly

• Defeated After All

• Who Needs Forever?

• You’re My Gravity

• Skin You With My Tongue 🔥

• Don’t Chase the Dead

• Cerberus

• I’m Your Fatal Sin

• I Can Sabotage Me By Myself

• You’ll Always Be My Thunder

• Love You with My Hands Tied 🔥

• Write Love Letters Across Your Lips 🔥

• Uh-Oh, There was a Monster in My Bed 🔥

• Some Things, Only God Can Forgive

• I Get My Lovin’ on the Run

• I’m Hot, Sticky Sweet 🔥

• My Blood is Singing with Your Voice 🔥

• A Sting in the Way You Kiss Me 🔥

• In Blood and Tears, a Thousand Times

• Bring Us Back to the Heroes We Were

• Sacrifice Yourself and Let Me Have What’s Left

• Let’s Get Lost Chasing Stars

• You’re Beautiful and Sick Like Me

• I’d Break the Back of Love for You 🔥

• The Rhythm of This Trembling Heart 🎃

• When Your Line is Crossed, I Get Off 🔥

• One Step, Not Much but It Said Enough

• You Would Break Your Back to Make Me Break a Smile 🔥

• Sins & sweetness 🔥

• I’m a Screamer, Baby, Make Me a Mute 🔥

• Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Me 🔥

• It’s a Loud and Dark World, but I Think I Found the Light

• Right on the Wrong Side of It All

• Let Your Heart Be Light 🎄

• Is It Easier for You to Say You Never Loved Me Anyway?🔥

• Remember My Heart, How Bright I Used to Shine

• The Itsy Bitsy Spider

• You’re Holy to Me 🔥

• I’ll Leave My Love Between the Stars

• The Itsy Bitsy Spider, Part Deux

• I Don’t Ask Much, I Just Want You 🔥

• Do You have No Idea You’re in Deep? 🔥

• You Get Me Closer to God 🔥

• You Love Me for Everything You Hate Me For 🔥

• My War is Over

• Are You Reckless or Not?

• The World Keeps Getting Hotter, Baby, but I’m Too Cool to Die

• I Might Change Your Life, I Might Save My World

• To Know This Will Conquer Me

• But Put Together, the Cracks We'll Close In

• Those Summer Nights, When I Look in Your Eyes 🔥

• I Pound the Walls, I Shake the Cage

• For You, I’d Bleed Myself Dry

• If I get a Little Prettier, Can I be Your Baby?🔥

• I am the Mess You Chose

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon series #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixion x reader #daryl x y/n #fanfiction #daryl dixon x gn!reader #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon angst #daryl twd #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon twd #twd daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl dixon #twd daryl #injured!daryl dixon

[chaotic-iguana]

Home

masterlist. ao3.

Summary: reader leaves joel and sarah to pursue a job offer in nyc, thinking it would be easier than watching the relationship die from a distance. she soon realises her mistake and scrambles to fix it. based on this request. 

Pairing: joel x fem! reader (no use of y/n) no outbreak au

Wordcount: 3.8k

Warnings: no smut, just a lot of angst, fluff and attempted humour

A/N: So, I’m clearly incapable of writing short drabbles (sorry lmao) let me know your thoughts!

“‘M just not gettin’ why we can’t make it work?” Joel throws his hands up, hot at your heels while you wipe your eyes on your sleeve and rush to the bedroom. 

“I’m not saying I don’t want to. I’m just saying its unfair to the both of us. I don’t know how long I’ll be down there. What if we find other people? Long distance never works, Joel. I don’t get why you can’t just let it go.” Yelling over your shoulder, you start shoving your clothes into your suitcase, wincing at the harsh scoff he lets out. 

You’d known how this was going to go. You loved Joel, so much. But you had worked practically your whole life to get the job you’d been offered last week. It started in a month, but it was all the way in New York. And you’d known while reading the email, as your initial excitement settled, that the slimy feeling coiling in your gut was right - you’d have to leave Sarah and Joel behind. 

Your experience with long distances in relationships wasn’t great - and more importantly, it would be unfair to both your boyfriend and the girl you considered your own daughter for you to expect them to sit around and wait for you, indefinitely. Because you truly had no idea how this was going to go, at all. 

You wanted to wait until the flight tomorrow morning to break things off with Joel, but he’d been so sweet while helping you get everything together last minute and he’d figured out that something was up almost immediately. So now, here you are. Having a messy breakup with the love of your life 9 hours before your flight to New York. Where you’d live, for god knows how long. 

But this was good, wasn’t it? You were finally reaping the benefits of all the summers spent indoors and working, the missed birthday parties, the cancelled plans. You were finally getting everything you’d ever wanted, right? Except your palms felt clammier, your eyes glossed over with tears and your mind was completely blank as each sharp breath you gulped made you wince like a shard of glass. 

Joel stood to your sight, arms hanging limp to his sides and his eyes on the ground, brows furrowed. He looked heartbroken, and it felt like it was physically tearing you apart not to go and smooth his frown away, kiss away his scowl. You wanted to fix his hurt, but you couldn’t - you were the one hurting him. It was for his own good though. He’d find someone nice, how could he not, and he would be happier. The thought of him holding someone else, of Sarah running up to anyone else with that twinkle in her eye, of someone else fitting into your family made your chest ache.

Nothing is permanent, and they know I love them. They have to know I’ll always love them. They’ll get someone better, they’ll be happier. It’s going to be okay, everything’s gonna be just fine. A stream of rambling consciousness starting playing like a broken record player in your mind, reasoning and justifying what you were doing even as your body-your whole fucking being was protesting it. Your hands were trembling, it’d taken you three tries to close the damn zipper and you knew it. 

Turning to your Joel-not anymore, is he? you’re letting him go, you goddamn idiot (helpful supplication, brain, thank you for making me cry harder)- you sidestep him, leaving him standing dejectedly in the bedroom to drag your suitcase to the curb. The image of him with his head bowed; shoulders slumped as he closes his eyes and clenches his fist, agony radiating from him, is one that sears itself into your memory on your way out. Double checking your passport, boarding pass and phone, you walk in to stand in front of him again, gently bringing a hand up to his cheek to make him look at you. When he opens his eyes, they’re completely bloodshot and lined with unshed tears, breaking you; using all your willpower not to break down and pull him closer, take his pain away. Reigning your raging feelings, you stand on your tiptoes to brush a kiss against his cheek. “Be happy, Joel. Tell Sarah I love her.” You whisper into his skin and turn to leave, startling when he grabs your wrist. 

“Tell her yourself. ‘S gonna break her heart tomorrow mornin’ if she wakes up an’ you’re not here.” He’s searching your sorrowful eyes, watching his words break your façade as you clamp your teeth down on your bottom lip and shake your head fast as more tears spill down your cheeks. 

“C-can’t. I can’t. Please.” 

Joel wants to gather you in his arms, stroke your hair till you calm down. But you’ve got your walls up now - crumbling, shaky walls but still, a barrier you’ve very much built between the two of you. He wanted your happiness, your successes, more than anything, but he wanted to cheer you on by your side, too. He was willing to wait, to call when you could - phones were getting smart now? - but you’d convinced yourself you were doing yourself and him a mercy by ending it. So he just nods, once, before gulping and pawing at the table to swipe his keys. The question written all over your face makes him want to laugh - did you really think he loved you so little he’d leave you to find your own ride to the airport at 9 fucking pm even if you couldn’t stand to look at him anymore? 

So he hauls your bags off the curb and into his truck, yanking the passenger side door open and gesturing for you to sit with a jerk of his head. Once you clamber in, he walks over to the other side and starts the truck, hating every second of this. He wants to scream, shout, and beg you to stay so badly. But if you think this’d make you happy, he’d do it. Anything. 

He just couldn’t understand why you kept saying he’d find better, be happier. As if he’d even try. Sarah’s mother had left, and he’d been crushed - had sworn off dating altogether. But you had come along; your lilting giggles and twinkling eyes carving a place in his heart. He hadn’t been with you because he was looking for anyone, he’d been with you because he thought he had found the one. But clearly he was wrong. Again. 

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he clenches his hands tighter around the wheel to steady them . His mother had always told him if it’s meant to be, it’ll be - and you won’t have any say in it. He knows it’s cliché, but if there’s even a grain of truth to be found in it, he’ll treat the saying as if it were gospel.   

He can hear you sniffing your way there, heart breaking at the soft sobs that escape you, but he makes no comment. There’s no need to make this harder for you. You’d nearly fallen apart when he mentioned Sarah, and he could see in your eyes that if he asked you to stay with him, to sacrifice everything entirely, you’d do it without thinking. But he didn’t want that- could never want that for you. And so he stayed quiet, the stifling silence of the truck broken only by your muffled crying. 

Pulling up outside the airport, he steps out and takes your bags down in complete silence. Itching to fix the awkwardness, he smoothes his hands over his shirt and sneaks a glance at you. You-his headstrong, terrifying little thing - looking this small, this defeated  - feels so wrong that he can’t help but grasp one of your hands in his. Hooking a finger under your chin, he tilts your head up and smiles softly when you meet his eyes. “‘F you ever need me, you call me, you hear? Don’t matter if it’s five am and you’re thousands of miles away. I’ll find you, okay?” Your head barely dips in a nod as you stare at him like you’re trying to memorise the curve of his nose; the set of his jaw. 

Releasing you and stepping back, he plasters a wider grin on his face as he ushers you inside, stopping only to whisper “Don’t be a stranger, hotshot.” The tiny grin blooming on your face sends victory-fueled adrenaline pumping in his veins, his stomach twisting with butterflies at the final step: watching you walk away. He waits till you’re inside and out of his sight, letting a long breath loose in resignation. 

He can see how unsteady your feet are, how you stumble and nearly trip over yourself. She’ll be okay, she’ll be happy. If Joel was a better man, he’d try and understand why you just left him. He would gladly have learned it all for you - the SMS texting, even the Skype stuff he’d heard of from a colleague; apparently you could see someone on your phone while talking to them - even if he was all thumbs at it. Sarah would likely have helped him with it, too, the girl loved you so damn much she would have gone outta her way to find ways to make the distance feel as normal as possible. But you didn’t ask for any of that. No, you asked him to let you go. So he would. 

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You sit in the lounge, miserable. Forcing yourself to take your mind off the clusterfuck that your life has become, you reach out for a magazine and start flicking through some mindless droning bullshit about a celebrity being spotted at a bar. Anxiety and unease had the wheel now, so you decide what the hell, and walk to the airport bar, ordering whiskeys one after the other until your head is swimming and you can’t remember how to stay upright walking in god knows which corridor of this too-big airport. Funnily enough the only thing the alcohol isn’t strong enough to wipe is Joel. How you didn’t even say goodbye properly, not to him and not to Sarah. They deserved better. You’re doing them a favor by leaving. 

Your head swarming with stinging taunts directed towards yourself, you stumble into the bathroom and begin a four-hour-long stint of curling up next to the milky white porcelain, hurling intermittently as you lay on the filthy vinyl floor and relish the cold bite against your burning skin. Drinking on an empty stomach had been shit oversight on your part, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d made more mistakes than one tonight…

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Your job was all you could have asked for. The opportunity of a lifetime, with a salary high enough that your account was close to hitting 6 figures in less than a year. It had taken a long time and a lot of hard work to reach here, but it was worth it. The job was, atleast. But when you swung your door open late at night, walking into a dark, cold apartment; when you got sick and had to lay shivering in bed alone for a week; when the weekend rolled around and all you could do was curl up in bed and sob into your pillow - you knew that this wasn’t worth the cost of your relationship. You’d lost weight, your eyes had semi-permanent bruises under them, your hands shook most of the time now. 

It was getting worse and worse, until one morning when your alarm went off for work, you just shut it off and slept in some more. Then cleared out the depressive clutter that had started to overflow on every table, in every cabinet. Threw out the half-empty liquor bottles and for the first time since you had landed here, you knew what you were doing.

You were going back to Texas. Fuck your two-week notice. You’d made enough money to sit on your ass and do small jobs for the rest of your life if you wanted to. The eight-month stint at the firm you were currently working at - even just summarized in two lines on your CV - would help you get better jobs than you were doing before. But you weren’t going back to Austin for work, not really. 

You missed Sarah like a phantom limb; it felt like someone had ripped away a part of you and forced you to live with it. You missed her jokes, her laughter, the way she’d get excited about something and talk your head off. And him. You didn’t miss him, you fucking ached for him like a lovesick puppy. His name alone made you ache, and he plagued every single minute you spent awake since you left. You kept replaying that night over and over again; every single minute of it immortalized in your memory like your own personal purgatory (fun!). Joel, who would have held your hair back when you hurled your guts up at the pavement on the bad nights. Joel, who would have held you and fed you and loved you and why the fuck did you ever think it was a good idea to leave him, again? 

Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you packed your things into the same bag you’d arrived with. You hadn’t even bought anything to furnish the apartment, making do with the too-small bed, cabinet and wonky table the landlord had provided - as if you’d known you wouldn’t stay. And you suppose, perhaps, a part of you did know. How was any of this worth anything if he wasn’t with you? The long-term good can go fuck itself. I need to see him. Should I just knock on his door randomly like a creep? No, that’s weird. What if he has another girlfriend now? Yeah, I should ask him before showing up. What if he doesn’t pick up? Where will I go if he isn’t there? God, fuck this. Get on a goddamn plane before you change your mind, idiot. 

With these (wonderful) thoughts dizzying you, you reach the airport and ask the counter for a ticket home. Turns out there’s a flight in thirty minutes - which is great because on one hand you can get rejected earlier - but also means that you need to decide whether or not to text him beforehand. Within the next half hour. Which you then spend wringing your hands, pacing, and by the time you decide to text him, your phone has run out of battery. See this? This, my friends is luck. (or, you know, dramatic plot writing.)

Huffing, you debate yourself every single step of the way onto the plane, practically having a panic attack by the time you find your seat and settle in. There are just so many reasons this could just be another shitshow. You can’t go back in time and fix what you did, but you owe it to yourself and to him to apologise and give him the truth. And so you lie back in your seat and browse yet another crappy magazine to pass the time, eventually giving up and fitfully sleeping through the turbulence. 

By the time you reach his door, its eleven pm on a Tuesday night. Meaning Sarah’s gone to bed, and Joel’s halfway there himself. This is not the time. Or the place. But you don’t find yourself having any better, genius ways to do this - so before you talk yourself into going home quietly - you’re rapping a fist against the door, careful not to be loud enough to wake Sarah up. It’s a school night. Holding your breath, you become suddenly all too aware of your flushed face and the sweat on your palms as you hear familiarly heavy footsteps reaching the door. One half of your mind is yelling at you to turn the fuck around and run what are you doing he won’t take you back you broke his heart get out get out get out while the other half seems to have just short-circuited, leaving you frozen on his porch as his door swings open. 

You watch his eyes widen in surprise, and the slight furrow in his brow as he starts scanning you - for injuries, you realise - he thinks you're hurt or that something’s gone completely sideways. Clearing your throat, you wait for his gaze to snap back to yours before flashing him a meek smile. “C-can I come in? Please?” He just stares at you for a second, and then he’s nodding, stepping to the side and opening his door wider. And God, even that’s enough to have butterflies fluttering in your stomach, your throat going dry. He’s clearly mad at me, but he’s letting me in. At eleven pm. Fuck, I love him. 

You sit on your side of the couch and the sheer mundanity of it hits you like a brick to the face. Joel brings you both beers from the kitchen before sitting across from you, still eyeing you with equal parts suspicion and concern. You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, looking down at your hands and trying to figure out what the fuck to do with my mouth what do I even say until he breaks the silence. “So, how’s work been?” 

And now your hands are shaking again, and you freeze. Because what do you say now? Work’s great, practically a corporate wet dream, but useless. See, turns out I made the biggest mistake of my life by leaving - fucking moped about like an idiot the whole time, was practically a minute away from writing you some big shitty sonnet or something to beg you to take me back. Decided against it because that would have taken like $50 dollars just to SMS. ‘Course I could have boom-boxed it, ‘Say Anything’ style, but recording a fucking sonnet on a cassette would probably have shredded my dignity irreparably. Not that this isn’t, it’s just less of a socially-masochistic option, you know?

And it isn’t until you hear him choke on his beer and look up at the amusement on his face that you realise you just said all of that, out loud. You slap a hand to your mouth just as he starts laughing: head bowed, eyes closed and his shoulders shaking - just like that night, but he’s not in pain this time; he’s practically howling with laughter, clutching his stomach with one hand and holding his beer in the other. 

You freeze again, eyes wide and staring in shock at the fact that that just came out of my mouth. And he just heard it. He shakes his head, still chuckling, and pointedly wipes a tear from his eye. Bastard. You, on the other hand, are completely panicking still - that was the shittiest apology you could have given him and where the fuck did that messily written draft you wrote drunk on the takeout bill last night go? It isn’t until he’s looking right at you with a shit-eating grin on his face that you react, blinking and looking down at your hands again. 

“What I meant to say was that I’m sorry. I think I was just so convinced that I’m not the effort of you trying to stay with me long-distance that I convinced myself the only thing possible was to end it. Which, y’know, of course it wasn’t. And I didn’t even say bye properly. You drove me to the airport and I said nothing. I was trying so hard not to cry, because I thought I needed that job since I’ve been working for it so long, but fuck the job. I mean, it was amazing, don’t get me wrong. Great pay and everything, the work itself wasn’t too bad. All in all, amazing. But I was fucking miserable without you. And I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve what I did to you. I fucking love you and Sarah. You’re my whole goddamn world, y’ know? Sundays weren’t the same without chocolate chip pancakes and Sarah telling me about something that happened at school first thing in the morning. I just-I get if you’ve found someone - and feel free to tell me to fuck off even if you haven’t - but I just can’t anymore, I can’t stay awake every night and cry in bed and feel like shit all the time and not tell you that I just miss you so much all the fucking time and I’m so-“

“Breathe.” One word, he’s cutting your rambling off with one word, and you’re fucking obeying it. You swallow a deep breath before opening your mouth again, before he cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours. It’s not a soft kiss, but it isn’t forceful either. Desperate, like he needed to touch you again - the way you’ve needed to every single minute of every single day. Resting his forehead against yours, he’s smiling again. “Sonnet, huh? Would’a been a pretty shit one, I reckon. Lost your train a’thought like four times there, sweetheart.” Your stomach is doing somersaults at the fact that he’s abandoned the beer to cradle your head against his, at how he’s right there and he isn’t pushing you away. 

“Wasn’t right, what you did. But we can’t make the right decisions all the time. I know you thought you were doing us a favor, but thinking you weren’t worth the effort? Now that’s a fuckin’ lie, baby. Woulda learned all kinds of phone voodoo to talk to you, and it would have been worth every damn secon’ of my time if it saved you from whatever the hell New York has done to ya. Staying awake every night and cryin’ in bed?” He tuts disapprovingly, continuing: “Shoulda called me, honey. How’s this: let’s get into bed now, an’ I’ll make you those pancakes tomorrow mornin’, I promise. And we can figure it out from there, okay?” And it takes you a second to process the fact that everything’s okay, before you’re nodding and your face is scrunching into a sob. His hands are immediately cradling you on either cheek as he’s shushing you softly, moving closer to move you into his lap. You were right. No matter how far you went, nothing could replace this right here. This; Joel; Sarah. After a long, tiring, painful eight months, you were finally home.

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings @suckerforfanfic (sorry this tag wasn't working earlier)

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou hbo #the last of us fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader #joel miller/reader #sarah miller #joel miller/you #no outbreak au

[aclockmaker]

WIP Wednesday Thursday because if I don’t post something I might die :)

Based on this post

steddie, cw drugs

Find another weed guy, I can’t fuck with you… uhhmm nothing personal I can’t fall in love with another straight guy and you’re Everything I love so if I see you again i’ll never let go of your hand so yeah

Eddie types out the text with one hand, flat in bed, despondent. His other hand is busy laying across his eyes dramatically. He’s squinting out from under it to type. He deletes the message without sending it. Again. He knows he’s going to see Steve again. Aside from everything else, he needs the money. He doesn’t have that many customers. It would be stupid to not go.

Hey man, you free to come by tonight? Steve had texted. Like he was talking to a buddy. Eddie usually sold Steve weed, sometimes shrooms. Sometimes his roommate Robin was there and that made things a little easier. Usually Steve asked and Eddie stayed to smoke and that made things a little worse.

Steve asks today. And Robin isn’t home.

“God, work was—never mind, I don’t even want to bore you with the gory details,” Steve says. He does something in finance, like his dad, and he hates it. Eddie wishes he didn’t know this. “But anyway, I really needed this. Thanks for coming over.”

“You literally pay me,” Eddie reminds him, the last threads of his sanity wearing thin in the face of Steve’s unnecessary niceness, “so.”

“I know, man, but still,” Steve says, pops off his baseball cap and fixes his beautiful hair underneath, tugs it back down. He looks like even more of a jock in the hat and unfortunately it does nothing to kill Eddie’s boner for him. If he’s honest, it’s part of the appeal. Sometimes he literally plays basketball right before calling Eddie, and he answers the door sweaty in low-cut tank tops, thick chest hair on display. “You want a beer?”

Steve drinks terrible beer. Unfortunately Eddie would like to tease him about it and kiss the side of his mouth while introducing him to something decent. “Sure, why not,” Eddie says, because it’s still free beer and also he’s an idiot.

Part of being a dealer is seeing inside people’s lives. Just briefly, though. That’s what you have to remember—you’re the interloper. Eddie delivers all over downtown Indianapolis—does it to put himself through school, slowly. He doesn’t want anybody else like he wants Steve. Has maybe never wanted anybody this much and he’s had his fair share of ill-advised hookups with people he was half in love with who didn’t care about him enough.

It makes it worse (better) that he knows nothing’s ever going to happen with Steve.

Steve hands him a Sam Adams without a trace of embarrassment and Eddie sighs internally, takes a pull.

He gets out the lunch box he deals from out of his bag and puts it on the table. Steve doesn’t like it when he does it right away, like he’s trying to make it fast and get out of there. He’s never said anything, but Eddie can, like, tell. Doesn’t like to make him sad and shit. It seems like his life is kind of—Eddie doesn’t want to say sad, but he never talks about his parents except to say that his dad did such and such new shitty, annoying thing at work, pressured him and made him feel not good enough. He doesn’t say it exactly like that, but Eddie gets the picture. He wants to tell Steve he thinks he’s good enough, and all kinds of other ridiculous shit.

Steve clinks the neck of his beer bottle against Eddie’s and takes a grateful sip. It’s the middle of summer and hot, and even the central air in Steve’s building is struggling to keep up.

“Anything good?” Steve asks, eyeing the bags of drugs Eddie’s pulling out.

“This is decent,” Eddie says, flicking one. “Mostly sativa, but it’s like… friendly. I’ve gotten good feedback.” To be more accurate, one person had texted and asked for the same thing as last time. But still.

“Whatever you say,” Steve says, like always. He’s very easygoing about his drugs. With him it really seems to be more about the journey than the destination.

#steddie #steddie fic #I’ll make a real post when I finish this but for now…

[g4yforethan]

ethan landry x male reader

plot: reader is anxious about the news of the ghostface killings after surviving the events of scream 5 and ethan decides to cheer him up!! (ethan is not the killer in this story btw!)

note: this is my first fanfic ever so please don’t judge just doin something fun for the summer :))

ever since you heard about the murders of two students from Blackmore University, you’ve been a little bit on edge. you’ve only been attending classes once a week and in the meantime, you’ve been isolating yourself from society. some days are easier than others but some days are filled with never-ending anxiety and worry over if you or your friends are next to be attacked. it also doesn’t help knowing that you and your friend group are survivors of the 2021 ghostface killings as well. it was a random day and this time you decided to attend your classes for the first time in a week. while in econ, you sat next to ethan landry who was also your roommate and friend although you two seemed to be flirting with each other at times. during class, a random asshole runs into class with a ghostface mask and pretends to stab some of your classmates. you turn to ethan in fear and he starts to hold you tight. the rest of the class takes this prank as a joke but soon the laughter begins to die down after your classmates start to notice you hyperventilating. ethan walks you out of class and you two go to a nearby park to calm down.

“i’m sorry for freaking out on you like that. after everything that’s happened, it’s really hard for me to go back to normal.” you say eating your ice cream that ethan got for you and him. his favorite flavor is mint chocolate chip.

“it’s okay it’s not your fault at all. i know it’s been hard for you these past few days after what happened last year but i want you to know that i’m always here for you.” 

“thanks ethan. i don’t know if i’m ready to go back to class for the rest of the day now to be honest.”

“that’s fine. we can go back to our room and put on a movie and relax. would you like that?”

“i would love that” you notice him start to blush after you replied and you found it as the cutest thing ever. 

the two of you walked back to your apartment which was pretty close to sam and tara’s apartment as well. you decided to take a shower and put on some pj’s since it was already turning nighttime. you go to the dining room and see ethan sitting down in the living room. 

“i ordered some pizza not too long ago so it should be here in a few minutes. i was thinking we could watch a disney movie to lighten up the mood if you want.”

“sounds like a date. i like it.” you sit down next to him which makes ethan blush even more. 

after eating some pizza and watching halfway through ratatouille while ethan rants about how remy is a better chef than gordon ramsay, you start to fall asleep. you rest your head on ethan’s shoulder and he notices and puts his arm over you. he starts to admire you and finds your sleeping face the cutest thing on earth. when the movie ends, he wakes you up and asks you if you want to go to bed. 

“sorry for knocking out on you like that. i was just really tired from today.”

“nah it’s all good i get you. do you want to head off to bed?”

“yeah but i was maybe wondering if you could sleep with me. i’ve been kinda scared sleeping by myself the past few days. only if you’re okay with it you know.”

“yes of course anything to make you feel more safe.”

the two of you go to your bedroom and head into bed. you notice ethan get a little nervous about getting into bed with you but you reassured him there was nothing to be nervous about. you two talk for a while about life and plans after college and then it soon turned into talks about crushes.

“so any crushes since the beginning of the school year? you start to ask ethan.

“i mean not really but there is someone i got my eye on.”

“oh really? who is it? tara? sam? cha-?!”

he pulls your face towards him and kisses you. you start to kiss again and again until you pull out to breathe for air. 

“you.”

“me too ethan.”

you get on top of him and lay your head on his chest. he puts his arms around your waist and starts to play with your hair. you start to fall asleep again and ethan watches you and gives you kisses on your forehead. 

“sleep well pretty boy.” he gives you one more kiss and falls asleep holding you tight in his arms. 

#ethan landry #jack champion #scream #fluff #jack champion fluff #ethan landry fluff #male reader #scream6 #malereader #avatar the way of water #male reader insert

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ari!! i am dropping by to give some good vibes & good weather for the weekend!! 🥹🌤️ & am also curious!! what song reminds you of any of your blorbos? 🥺

sel !!!! tysm ur so sweet, im sending u sunlight and flowers n treats :3 ☀️☀️☀️🌻🌻🍰🍰🍪🍪 i hope ur weekend is full of rest n the fluffiest vibes !! <3

aaaa thats such a good question too !!!!! i have a lot for gojo n geto, and then some for megumi n shoko too i think … im just gonna put it all under the cut in case it gets long i !!!! love love love assigning songs to my blorbos <333

FIRST OF ALL …. sel. u know how i am w gojo….. phshdhs i have a bunchhh of different songs i associate w him but !! here r a couple :>

ok so first !! i firmly believe that gojo is a swiftie so i legally have to assign him a taylor swift song n this is basic but ’cruel summer’ is just so HIM. i especially think of hs gojo when i hear it !!

so cut the headlights, summer’s a knife // i’m always waiting for you just to cut to the bone // devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes // and if i bleed, you’ll be the last to know

also ….. pinkpantheress ….. i dont know WHY i just get big gojo vibes when i listen to her songs 😭😭😭 … i firmly believe he’d listen to her too. i esp associate him w ’break it off’, ’capable of love’ and ’close to you’!!! the lyrics remind me sm of him too :’) i !! love our lonely babyboy !!!!

you can’t even sleep when you turn the lights off // white noise in your head makes it harder to breathe // but easier to tell me when it’s time for me to leave

this happened at the start, everytime we try we fall apart // you can’t seem to hold my heart // close to you // and i know that you make it clear that you want me out of here // though it’s loneliness you fear // close to you

and i think i need a picture ’cause it’s never enough // to see you smilin’ in my mind when i lay still in the dark // it starts with you

i’m obsessed with the idea that one day it breaks up // ’cause after that, i know i’ll never be as capable of love // after you

and then !! and then !!! ’be nice to me’ by the front bottoms is my favorite ever n its !! so so gojo !!!! reminds me sm of him and sugu ;(

if we all left it alone // i’m sure it’d work itself out fine // we keep playing with the numbers // we are running out of time

but you’re a killer // and i’m your best friend // think it’s unfair, your situation // you say i’m changing // sorry, i didn’t know i had to stay the same

and you’re a werewolf and i’m a full moon // and all your very worst enemies will be gone soon // i think you’re changing // don’t worry, you don’t gotta stay the same

(also …. ’fighter’ by jack stauber …. yeaaa. gojocoded)

call me fighter, i’ll mop the floor with you // call me lover, i’ll take you for a drink or two // you’ll get older, and maybe then you’ll feel some control

now as for geto …………. i think i have a billion angsty geto songs but tbh above all else hes so mitski coded. he IS mitski. ’last words of a shooting star’ and ’why didnt you stop me?’ were literally written for geto idc . this is just sooo …. T_T my doomed boy

all of this turbulance wasn’t forecasted // apologies from the intercom // and i am relieved that i’d left my room tidy // they’ll think of me kindly when they come for my things

they’ll never know how i’d stared at the dark in that room // with no thoughts // like a blood-sniffing shark

i always wanted to die clean and pretty // but i’d be too busy on working days // so i am relieved that the turbulance wasn’t forecasted // i couldn’t have changed anyways

i know that i ended it, but // why won’t you chase after me? // you know me better than i do // so why didn’t you stop me?

and then shoko !! hhh for some reason i associate her a lot w penelope scott … i think ’moonsickness’ especially !! and and and … ’ribs’ by lorde :( i think of her when i listen to it n then i cry. ’cigarettes out the window’ by tv girl is another one !!

blood clots, death camps, glitz and depressions // the business cycle and the tides // you fuckers know it’s all built on lies // but the beast refuses to die // and so i guess, well, neither can i

this dream isn’t feeling sweet // we’re reeling through the midnight streets // and i’ve never felt more alone // it feels so scary, getting old

and finally !!!! gumi !!!! :D ok so sel i know we both agree when i say hes the neighbourhood coded. like pretty boy, cry baby, softcore etc etc hes just sooo… yeah.

but !! for some reason i also rly rly associate him w beabadoobee ….. maybe just cuz i think he would like her music. ’apple cider’ makes me think of him everytime i listen to it, im not sure why it just feels so gumi to me ?? esp college gumi !! ’care’ is another beabadoobee song that reminds me of him

and i don’t even like you that much // wait, i do, fuck

you said you liked my hair // so go ahead and touch it // you said you liked the jumper i wore // and so i always wore it

so call me at midnight // ask you if it’s alright // to have a sleepover // to drink some apple cider // or maybe some fruit punch // and we can talk about how we don’t like each other that much

and then theres another one i cant really explain bc its just vibe based pahshhdh BUT … ’cool with you’ by newjeans is so gumi to me .

THIS WAS SO FUN ty for the question sel !!!! makes me wanna make playlists for everyone hhhh ….. 🥺🥺 my blorbos of all time

#i would love love love to hear ur answer too !! esp what song(s) u associate w gojo … 👀👀 #i need good song recs n i trust ur taste #ur so sweet for always checking in w everyone sel <3 #i hope you have a super super lovely weekend !! #ask tag ✩

[italic-doing-random-shit]

all of them. unless you're uncomfortable with any

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

only with my mom

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

I last said I love you to panda

03: Do you regret anything?

yep, lots of things

04: Are you insecure?

hell yeah, plenty to not like about me but that’s the anxiety talking

05: What is your relationship status?

taken

06: How do you want to die?

quickly, calmly

07: What did you last eat?

hamburbur

08: Played any sports?

play soccer mainly, but dabbled around

09: Do you bite your nails?

unless I paint them, yes

10: When was your last physical fight?

fourth grade

11: Do you like someone?

yeah, I’m dating them

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

yep

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

I hate actions not people, unless the action is unjustifiable. So like, Israeli military and my dad

14: Do you miss someone?

I miss my moots in a way of ‘we never met but I want you here way’

15: Have any pets?

yep, always lived with dogs

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

really shitty

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

nope, never even kissed someone

18: Are you scared of spiders?

nah, they’re little guys

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

nope, might get killed legally

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

haven’t yet

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

take a fucking break

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

maybe, all I know is I want to adopt

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

none, but I want basic earibgs

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

anything art related or english

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

no, I left them for a reason

26: What are you craving right now?

sleep and cuddles

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

yeah,,,,, I didn’t want to hurt them but I’m not going to date someone I don’t like back. It’s not fair.

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

nope

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

I believe so, but we were being sweet and it was a while ago

30: What’s irritating you right now?

school

31: Does somebody love you?

yes

32: What is your favourite color?

red

33: Do you have trust issues?

yes

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

Me, someone was trying to kill me

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

my teacher when asking for stock footage

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

I think but also everyone deserves a new chance

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

forgive

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

don’t know, still growing

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

haven’t had one

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

when I was like one

51: Favourite food?

Cheese quesadillas

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

yeah, why else would they happen

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

hug my mom

54: Is cheating ever okay?

only on tests that don’t matter much

55: Are you mean?

playfully mean

56: How many people have you fist fought?

three

57: Do you believe in true love?

yes

58: Favourite weather?

summer rain

59: Do you like the snow?

YES

60: Do you wanna get married?

yes

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

yeah, I love pet names

62: What makes you happy?

a lot of things

63: Would you change your name?

yes, I did

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

no? I kissed my mom on the check and I’ll do it again

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

(well as a trans male) if I was single and liked them then maybe but usually I just say I’m not interested and run off embarrassed

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

not really

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

Inka

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

my mom

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

yes

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

no, but there plenty of people I’d live for

#asks #tunny!! 🩷 #Ask game

[bridgyrose]

Ruby walked through the ruined halls of Beacon as a few vines crept behind her and started to place the bricks back into the school one by one. The echoes of the students and professors laughing at her and scolding her could be heard through the empty halls as she passed each door. Each step she took was a reminder of how out of place she felt, that no matter how hard she tried, she was never going to fit in. 

“I… I can fix this,” Ruby muttered to herself. “I can fix this and still become the hero that I want to be.” 

“Are you sure you’re up to the task?” 

Ruby paused as she passed by a statue of her mother and slowly looked it over as she placed a hand on the plaque. “I can still be a hero like you were. I dont know how, but I know I can do it.” 

The statue moved to embrace Ruby, cold bronze pressed against the girl’s skin. It spoke with a motherly voice that echoed through the halls. “A hero has to die at the end of their story. Are you sure you want to be a hero like me?” 

Ruby stayed quiet as she thought about what her mother had just told her. Of course she still wanted to be a hero, even if it meant dying. With a slow nod, she finally answered her mother. “Yes. I still want to be a hero just like you were.” 

The Summer statue seemed to smile as it pulled away from Ruby and the base of her pedestal started to open up. A passageway leading to the depths of Beacon revealed itself to her daughter as the statue spoke one last time. “You’ll find what you need to make things right here.” 

With a quiet nod, Ruby started to make her way down the stairway and used the light of her scroll to keep her path illuminated as the statue moved back into place. Her eyes stayed trained on the steps ahead of her as she continued to make her way down. Piece by piece, her clothing had started to match her mother’s as her desire was granted. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Weiss made her way to the gravestone and gently placed her hand against the faded writing to try to feel which letters she could make out. “I… dont understand, why wont she look for us here? With the way the two of you talk about home, I figured this would be the first place she’d look for us.” 

“Because she hates that mom died when she was so little.” Yang made her way over to the gravestone and sat down next to it. With a heavy breath, she wiped a tear away and kept her voice steady as she continued. “Mom disappeared when we were little and Ruby could barely talk. We were told she had died that day Ozpin came to tell us, though we all know that grave is empty. And while Ruby puts on a smile every time she comes out here to talk to mom, deep down, she resents her for not being here. Training to be a huntress is the only way she knows how to be close to mom. Though, the only version of mom she really knows is through the stories that dad and Qrow tell us.” 

Weiss quietly nodded and traced the few, remaining letters to put together the name on the headstone. She quietly sat down as she put everything together and realized just how little of her partner she knew. All she saw was the child who she thought snuck her way into Beacon and didnt think deserved to be there, unaware of the burden she carried or the pain she held inside. That the smile her team leader kept on her face and the insistence to help others was a way to try to get to know the mother she never really knew. Weiss slowly ran her fingers through the grass around the tombstone. “Then… I’ll make sure I do things better.” 

“I know you will. You have ever since our first day at Beacon. Though, I cant say I’ve helped make things easier for her either.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Yang leaned back and looked up at the clouds in the rose-red sky. “I’ll admit, I’ve coddled her a bit. Always there for her to fall back on ever since dad shut down. I picked up the pieces where I could, helped when I needed to in order to make sure Ruby had someone there. Read stories when dad was too tired, helped her with homework when dad had to go away for work… like I said before, she sees me as a mother figure. And when we started at Beacon, she was terrified to be on her own. Dad wanted her to make a few friends on her own so she could learn how to get along with others and be able to look after herself and I… ditched her until orientation.” 

Weiss nodded and stood up as she gripped the hilt of her rapier. “I… I think I know how we can save her.” 

“You do?” Yang looked up at Weiss curiously, a brow raised. “And what exactly do you have in mind?” 

Weiss smiled and started to make her way back to the door that Yang had created. “We show her she’s already a hero.” 

Yang stood up and followed after Weiss. “You know we only have one shot at this, right? If this fails, we’re going to lose her.” 

“Which is exactly why we wont fail.” Weiss opened the door and stared at the re-built hallway of Beacon and took a step through the threshold. “I’ll go find Ruby and distract her while you and Blake find where the nightmare is hiding.” 

Yang let out a heavy sigh as the door shut in front of her. “I really hope you know what you’re doing…” 

Blake put a hand on Yang’s shoulder and smiled at her. “We’ll make sure Ruby is saved.” 

“I know we will.” 

“Any ideas where to look for the nightmare?” 

Yang stood up and looked out the window. “I think I do, but we’ll want to hurry.”

Prev

#rwby #drabbles #ruby rose #rwby ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #rose queendom au #rose queendom #we'll see more on how this is playing with Ruby's insecurities and fears later

[crush-like-that]

Can we just appreciate how Cut by The Cure is so (will) byler coded

If only you'd never speak to me The way that you do If only you'd never speak like that

Will may not take every single thing into consideration, but there is a time when he has to realize that Mike doesn't treat everyone the way he treats Will. There's a certain gentleness to him that Will just can't deny.

It's like listening to A breaking heart, falling sky Fire go out and friendship die

The Will Voice has always been something special. Maybe Mike's softness and care is the reason why Will fell in love with him in the first place. But it hurts, oh god does it hurt.

I wish you felt the way that I still do The way that I still do

After moving to Lenora, Will had tried to move on from Mike. The lack of letters, lack of calls, lack of communication from Mike was such an obvious sign. It was the world telling Will to move on, but he still found himself making the painting, telling Mike what he wanted to hear by slapping El's name over his own feelings.

If only you'd never look at me The way that you do If only you'd never look like that

And Will, he's not oblivious as everyone thinks. Sure, he doesn't pick up on everything, but he notices the way Mike looks at him. Like he has something he want to say, but he just can't figure out the words. It hurts. They used to be best friends. They used to know everything about each other. Being around each other used to be easy.

When I look at you I see face like stone, eyes of ice Mouth so sweetly telling lies

Things aren't easy anymore. Will's starting to realize that. Because the way Mike looks at him, the thoughts Will is supposed to able to decipher, are entirely too hard to begin to grasp. But it's as if Mike doesn't realize this. He says again and again how they're back to being best friends, how everything is back to normal.

I wish you felt the way that I still do The way that I still do

At least they're friends again. That's all Will could ask for and more. But being friends, having this close proximity it leaves him wanting more. Leaves him to wish for what he knows he'll never get.

But you don't You don't feel anymore You don't care anymore It's all gone, it's all gone, it's all gone

They may be friends again, but it's nothing like what they used to be. There's secrets now. Uncomfortable silences. Shared looks that they just can't understand.

If only you'd never pull from me The way that you do If only you'd never pull like that

And Mike is always pulling, grasping, reaching out. He brings Will in again, making inside jokes and throwing an arm over his shoulders and acting just like they had before the summer of 85.

When I'm with you I feel hopeless hands helplessly Pulling you back close to me

Will would like to say that he's learned from his past mistakes. He would like to say that he doesn't cling to Mike as much as he used to. Will would like to say that he doesn't feel himself falling for Mike all over again, rediscovering the emotions that he had buried deep inside himself.

I wish you felt the way that I still do The way that I still do

But that would be a lie. The world is ending, crumbling around them, and Will still finds himself clinging his best friend. Loving him like it's the only thing he's ever known.

But you don't You don't feel anymore You don't care anymore It's all gone, it's all gone, it's all gone

And Will knows that it's a fruitless effort. Mike will never want him the way he wants Mike. Reality hits him too hard time and time again, showing him just how Mike really feels. How things grow tense when they become to honest, thing get awkward when they get too close.

If only you'd ever speak to me The way you once did Look at me the way you once did Pull to me the way you once did

Ignoring their past is easier said than done. When Will makes eye contact with Mike for the first time in days, there's no softness there. There's no gentle care. It's fear. Mike is afraid. Too afraid to talk to him. Too afraid to look at him. Will wishes he knew what Mike was afraid of...

But you don't You don't feel anymore You don't care anymore It's all gone, it's all...

...but Mike is quiet again. Back to the same awkward silences that had been there just after Lenora. Back to the silences filled with all the things they couldn't say, all the thoughts they couldn't understand. And Will wishes he understood. He wishes he knew how to make it better.

#byler #will byers #will centric #mike wheeler #the cure #cut #byler analysis #< ish #byler fanfic #< kinda

[triheartedhero]

I writing this where I know my nay sayers will never find me.

Over the past two years my life has completely uprooted and changed and when I thought it settled again it changed again.

Two years ago I thought I would die taking care of my mother, living in a hoarder's house. I would still be walking 16 miles one way five times a week between 7pm and 6am with a four hour shift somewhere between. No matter the weather. During the day I'm walking to and from the store either for food to cook either in an electric skillet or a large toaster oven. Maybe I've gone to get my mother's several medications, of which they rarely had refills in sync. Perhaps I've gone to the doctor's with my mother. No matter what, I haven't eaten or slept enough for any of it. My sanity is non-existent. I'm surviving, barely, wanting to die daily. In fact I cannot wait for that horrible house to finally give up and swallow me whole. Death would be better is all my mind tells me.

A year ago I thought I would never get off my brother's couch, and that I would forever be a free live in babysitter without a chance to ever "adult" again. I would constantly and forever have to sneak through a house at 4-6am after a shift of work. Unable to shower the baked on sweat off because "the shower will wake the babies". Sleeping on a couch with an old ass worn hole. Only to be awaken by the souls of screaming babies by 10am. For every reason in the book their mother would find errands to run from noon until 5pm. But "can you watch the babies?" Granted there were days I was allowed to go on errands as well. But at the end, I was always watching babies. Not allowed to nap until 6pm when I often jump on my bike at 7pm to make it to work on time. I am tired, constantly. I'm always on eggshells because of how I fear over staying my welcome. At any given moment I can finally piss off my sister in law enough that she kicks me out. She never did. But, when she was given a chance to get me out, it happened in three days time.

Six months ago, I thought I would forever be the eldest of six children. Wherein I was rarely treated as an adult. And once more, forever the free live in babysitter. Here adults saw me as one of the children, but the children saw me as the most reliable adult. Often times, they come to me over their parents for questions that only parents could answer. During all this I am still working, sometime between my brothers house, and this one, I have gotten a car things a little easier. Until they aren't. My car breaks down, and I have to rely on the good will of my "not actually my father" and my "not actual stepmother" to have a vehicle. This works for a while. Though now I MUST wake at 8am every day, when I got in at 4am, to watch a 4yo. Sleep.... It's still rare. I look forward to weekends and winter/spring/summer breaks, they mean I can sleep. It doesn't stop the children from coming to me every hour. But at least here I have my own room. And a bed. At least at least at least. I'm treated like a child, until it's convenient I'm not. Rarely am I thought of for family outings (Even though I can pay for myself). I'm family, but I'm not.

Never have I ever truly felt like.... Family. I'm the pity case. The poor case. I'm easy to get a "yes" from, because I'm always afraid if I say "no" I will loose my place to sleep. Sometimes I feel "love" and I have taught myself to that "these people will not hurt you to love you", but that is only when I'm remembered as family.

My true family, is my chosen family. They are shattered and far. Chances are I will share with them this link and they will know who my chosen family is. My chosen family have been the quiet voices supporting me through my past. Sometimes, a lot of times, I know I was hard to love. But love me they still did. Holding my hand in the dark.

They are the ones who have told me "you can do this". They are the ones who said "live your life"

Now I have the chance, one I am taking with both hands. To start new. To live. To be my truest self. It scary. I am moving across the country to a place I have never been before. I am leaving behind everything I've known. The oh so many bad things, and the few good ones too. I have a love, that I am not scared of. Not for one moment. Things I once said "never" to, are things that seem.... Wonderful with her. And that uncertain tomorrow.... There IS a tomorrow and I look forward to it. Even the tomorrow of years to come.

My family would give me every reason to say no. I say "there is no other time for this, there is NOTHING in this world I have wanted more". I have lived, my whole 33 years of life.... For others. To serve others. To do for others. Just enough so that I could scrape by a survival.... Not even living just survival. But this is the first time I have said "this is for ME. *I* deserve this! I deserve a LIFE to LIVE for ME."

This is me saying "my life is no longer yours universe, MY LIFE IS MY OWN"

My chosen family are the ones who tell me "you can do this", "we believe in you"..... "I'm proud of you". People I don't share blood with are the ones who can say those things to me. What kind of joke is that? What does it say about my family? It tells how much those I never see, really see me. They are the ones who see the true me, and still find it in themselves to love me. They believe in me.

TL;DR I came from shit, I'm turning my life around. My biological family doesn't believe in me, my chosen family does

#chosen family #turning point #my life is changing

[whtrbbit]

@bandysnatched asked: “  everyone leaves, eventually. either they move on or they die. they leave and i’m left behind.  ”

                         they had been stuck like 𝐠𝐥𝐮𝐞. melted honey. gum on the bottom of the shoe on a summer day. a sticky thing ─── really. he didn't quite know why bandit chose him of all people to defend. the first time were hands shoving against his chest. slamming against that ground with widening eyes. slurs spilled so quickly it made his head spin. freak. 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭. right when a punch was heading towards his face , it was the siren that caught it. since then , the annoyingly tall. 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 in height now that arley thought about it. ( maybe that's why 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 , blood couldn't get that high up? ) kept by the angry bunny's side.

only he often times saw those eyes shift from stormy grey to the crimson dripping red. only he had seen arley become small in his hiding holes. the color red always seeming to send him into a frenzied panic. bandit had been there for everything. ─── then he vanished. torn from the rabbit's life right when they came through nevermore. where bandit was the starlight of the school , arley was the hidden secret. a name , a name alone. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐓. he was a legend , without a face except to those lucky enough to get handed by his own hand.

normally so use to using mules. it made his job easier , it made avoiding people easier. now he was stuck with the giant galoot of a man. arley was starting to wonder if that big head of his ever even contained a brain. he often wondered if he rattled him , would it make a sound? 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐬. 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐬. 𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐬. all falling to the ground. neither of them were put back to the correct pieces after their life tormented them. not by a long shot , 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧. lips pursed in a thin line folding arms cross his chest while brows furrowed in irritation.

‘ yack. yack. 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐚𝐜𝐤. all you fucking do is whine. everyone leaves me. no one loves me. 𝐢'𝐦 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫. please~ ’ eyes rolled harshly before he leaned against the wall beside the other. arms tucking comfortably behind his head. gaze shifting to the sky , beautifully blue above them. bandit wanted to talk , arley wanted it to be behind the school. tucked away in a little hovel of an area. ‘ alice loves you. i love you. march loved you 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐮𝐩. does it fucking look like we're going anywhere? shut your god damn mouth and 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩! ’

annoying. hissing between clenched teeth before his eyes fell closed. ‘ you've never been alone you dumbass , you are just too blind to realize the people around you. must come from the height , always looking over our heads. seeing the valley beyond. should i kick the back of your knees so you're on our level? 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧? ’

#I'M LAUGING RABBIT IS SUCH A /DICK/ #♤ -- intr • bandit // rabbit . bandysnatched #♤ -- verse • white rabbit of nevermore . wed i. #♤ -- inbox • do i have time for letters? . answered ask.

[pebblysand]

[fic draft] - [this feels right and i'm letting it]

tw: alcohol. here is a little something i've been working on. idk if i'll ever continue it so i thought, hey, what the hell, here it is. it was inspired by a post i saw on twitter saying: 'who in the trio would be more likely to develop an addiction, and why hermione?' this is, i suppose, my response.

wc: 2,391

.

the first drink she ever had, her parents gave her. one july, back from school. dad had got an article published in the British Dental Journal, something about wisdom teeth and evolution, and mum couldn’t stop beaming with pride and prestige. they went to tesco together and got a bottle of bubbly - prosecco, not champagne; they were posh but not that posh - carefully placed it in the boot next to the week’s shopping. her parents always had wine and beer at home, but this was a special occasion, you see?

that evening, hermione was fifteen years old. the three of them stood in the back garden, the sun’s gold slowly setting on her mother’s hydrangeas - dad got the barbecue started. the smell of sausages and sardines rose in the air with the smoke - hermione watched it as her parents chatted, like a material thing that coiled in the trees. a handful of leaves had begun to dry up - die - already. 

mum got three champagne flutes out from the higher shelf in the cupboard; the one the two of them have to stand on their tippy-toes to reach. the one where unnecessary things go, like grandma’s old crystal glasses and that toaster that stopped functioning years ago but that no one ever bothered taking to recycling. held tightly in dad’s palm, a loud pop escaped when the cork gave way to the pressure in the bottle, interrupting the sound of her mother’s laugh. hermione closed her eyes, listened to the soft, folk muggle music that escaped the radio in the kitchen. mum always asked her to steer clear of it - of the kitchen generally - because hermione’s magic tended to interrupt the low drone of BB4. 

‘i thought you might want to try some, darling,’ her mother grinned, extending her arm for hermione to grab a glass. ‘you’ve things to celebrate, too!’

‘of course.’

her parents had come to get her from the train station, that june. she’d sat in the back of the car on the way home. the sun was violent, that day, assaulting the windows - the summer of ‘95 was hot, too hot; it left hermione’s skin clammy and sweaty, wishing she could simply get her wand out and perform a cooling charm. ‘so, who won?’ her father grinned at her in the mirror, her mother quickly turning down the radio so that they could ‘hear each other.’ 

hermione looked up at him, then, her glance reluctantly drifting from the trees and the passing cars on the motorway. she’d missed the slowness of muggle life. missed her parents, sometimes, the way dad always had a tendency to stay in the middle lane, to take up space, and the way mum never liked it very much. hermione watched them as mum placed a hand on dad’s knee - ‘michael, left,’ she muttered. 

‘won what?’ hermione asked.

dad grinned again. ‘well, the tournament, of course!’ 

she crossed her dad’s gaze in the mirror but doesn’t think the look of panic ever made it to her face.

she keeps a journal - to prevent these kinds of situations, you see? since first year - since the day she started lying to them. i’ve made lots of friends, she wrote, once. it spilled from her quill like she imagines tom riddle’s inky blood did a year later in the chamber of secrets. she’s never been quite sure why. don’t you worry about me. then, a journal entry: told mum and dad about friends. think of good names. she made a list, the next day, considered five an acceptable number. leah, clara, jen, ron and harry. the former never existed. the latter were very much not her friends, then, but maybe she wanted them to be. it was easier to make things up when they were based on something tangible, albeit a very loose interpretation of a truth. 

by fourth year, she’d perfected her system, of course. notebooks, sticky notes. she referred to them before writing every letter, double-checking her references before putting quill to parchment, so to speak. the notebooks were in the boot of the car, though, that afternoon, at the bottom of her trunk, concealed, and she had to think on her feet. (she’s always hated having to think on her feet).  

what did you tell them? think. something. like - 

there is a tournament happening this year, a number of other students are coming from other schools, we are all very excited. it is highly prestigious, of course. ron, harry and myself are too young to participate, but it will be fascinating to watch - the level of magic will most likely be phenomenal. 

‘cedric,’ she quickly said. hoped. 

‘oh, the hogwarts boy?’ her father beamed. ‘his parents must be so proud!’

when she had to ask them to stop the car at the next exit so that she could throw up by the side of the road, her mother held her hair back. ‘oh honey, i’m sorry. i always how ill you get in the back of the car.’

.

of course, she felt guilty about it - lying - sometimes. told herself she (really) didn’t want them to worry, or that they wouldn’t understand, that she was protecting them. she tried to remind herself of the one and only time they were ever told the truth. second year - she’d been petrified and the school had told them - mum hadn’t stopped crying and fussing over her all summer. they’d even considered not sending her back, had mailed mcgonagall with their doubts. i understand your concerns, the head of house had responded. of course, hogwarts attendance isn’t mandatory. this being said, as i’m sure you will agree, hermione is a very bright, gifted witch. it is essential that she continue her education. i wouldn’t want this incident to impact her schooling more than it already has. there are schools abroad, in france, america or australia that i can recommend. 

mcgonagall was clever, too, knew how they would react. 

‘we are not sending her across the world, jean,’ dad had settled, that same night.  

and, later, after cedric died, hermione’s first drink tasted sweet in her mouth. she liked the way the bubbles tickled the back of her throat. the wizarding world wasn’t big on fizzy drinks and she missed the clandestine trips to the shops with her aunt sometimes, the way mary always got her coke or fanta despite mum’s protestations (‘these are just terrible for your teeth.’) like her daughter’s health would never face any greater danger.  hermione looked at the sky, then, and found that the booze made her loose, slightly dizzy. not like rollercoasters, like: dancing, like turning on her feet in a pleated skirt like she used to and ‘mum, look, i’m flying, aren’t i?’

(like: dancing with harry and twirling in his arms and dying inside). 

‘you’ll fly high, love, soon,’ her mum said, that time. 

. 

three years later, she is laying down on the grass, now. her parents’ back garden, still, but a different time, space, continent, even. she forgot to bring a towel when she came down, earlier, and the grass tickles the underside of her arms and legs - just her in a t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts. she always has to pull them up whenever she rises off the floor, off chairs. they went shopping the other day (her, mum, dad and ron), but everything she tried on stubbornly fell down her hips. she’s lost so much weight that even with late 90s outrageous trends, nothing fits. when they first looked at her again, after all the dust and the anger had settled, if not abated, mum said: ‘gosh, you look like a ghost.’

‘is she right?’ she asked ron, later. he looked at her and caught water when he ran his thumb under her eye. 

‘come on,’  he just said. 

now, in ‘98, she watches the clouds move above her. closes her eyes, opens them. a plane cruises over brisbane and the setting sun hits different here. her parents’ house is beautiful, well-decorated, everything her mother always wanted in england but couldn’t get in centuries-old bricks. when they showed her around, her parents mentioned the north-facing aspect like it was a good thing. it is the beginning of winter for them, a version of early december, but it looks a lot like june - actual june. 

a door opens in the distance. the kitchen, to her left. she opens her eyes again, but doesn’t look. there is a tree and she watches the breeze tickle its branches as the sound of ron’s steps get closer. he interrupts her thoughts and she can’t fathom how he can be loud - so loud - moving against grass. he is the loudest person she knows and whenever she has nightmares, at night, it is the silence of his absence she remembers. 

‘hey,’ he says, ‘dinner’s almost ready.’

ron’s taken up making dinner since they got here. hermione would never have thought it possible - and, yet. he’s made dinner and mowed her parents’ grass the muggle way, and even offered to help them at the practice when their receptionist unexpectedly quit. he goes in there three times a week, now. he’s been the loudest, but also the kindest, most helpful person she’s ever met. she’s been argumentative and angry, lonely. lies on the grass every evening instead of helping mum and dad, with a large glass at her side and a half-empty bottle of wine. australian chardonnays are her favourite, now. she likes her booze sweet, she’s found. 

‘i’m going to try and phone harry,’ ron announces. he is standing next to her but doesn’t sit, just hovering. he is partially blocking the sun. 

hermione nods, forces a smile. ron’s even learnt to use the ‘teleephone,’ because her parents don’t want magic in the house. hermione supposes he is unaware of the cost of international calls, and makes a mental note to book their portkeys back before the bill arrives. ‘it’s almost eight over there, he’ll be up.’

‘yeah.’ 

she doesn’t have the heart to tell him that harry’s always up, anyway. 

that is perhap where the three of them differ. ron sleeps. to forget. for bliss. sometimes, at night, she hears him say fred’s name, but never in anguish. she and harry stay awake. he slept fourteen hours after the battle - then nothing. she never even got that, really. it’s why she started drinking. after the battle, after the funerals, not to forget or drown her sorrows, but because it was the only thing that put her to sleep. that or potions, but they always felt her drowsy afterwards, unfocused. now more than ever, she needs focus. 

ron’s never really said anything about it. her parents have made comments: ‘you’re drinking a lot, hermione,’ and all she wanted to do in response was to childishly stick out her tongue. ‘yeah, so what?’ she’s not an alcoholic, just medicating. like a potion master, she’s not perfected her dosage: the amount that will put her to sleep without having to pay the price the next morning. a bottle over the course of a few hours - but never more. she’s eighteen - her hangovers are… manageable, still. 

usually, she starts drinking whenever harry calls in the afternon. one or two, whenever everyone else is at work. it’s the middle of the night in england. he doesn’t sleep, doesn’t drink - he runs. miles. and, miles. ron jokes that he will never ever get up at five in the morning to watch his best mate run the london marathon, just so you know. ‘you ran ten miles? are you mental?’ he often asks.

(to be fair, hermione thinks they’ve all gone a bit mental, these days.)

‘it’s not just me,’ harry defends himself when she brings it up, once. ‘i don’t think ginny has come off her broom since we got back from hogwarts.’

it might be true, hermione shrugs. exercise has always been their shared coping mechanism. yet, she is mean to him, that day, doesn’t know why, doesn’t really want to be. ‘sorry, do you two fuck mid-air, too?’

she half-expects harry to shout at her, or hang up the phone but he doesn’t. she supposes her words don’t sound like her own, that afternoon, and perhaps he knows that. harry just - breathes, at the other end, for minutes, it seems. fell back into ginny’s arms the moment the armistice was called, but he claims they haven’t spoken much. he claims: ‘she flinches every time someone touches her, you’ve seen it too!’ and hermione doesn’t deny it. ‘how am i supposed to speak to her?’

‘oh, so you never touch, do you?’ she challenges. ‘bit inconvenient when you -’

he sighs, cuts her off. ‘you know what i mean. it’s fucking hard, okay? i’m trying.’

aren’t we all? she thinks. 

what she does know is that if this all goes up in flames, she and ron will again be the ones to pick up the pieces. she really doesn’t want him to go up in flames, is pretty sure she wouldn’t survive losing him a second time. 

but: ‘are you jealous?’ harry finally asks, now, and she can’t help but laugh. can’t help but wish it was that easy, that cliché, secretly in love with her best friend, though somehow, with harry, the concept manages to feel somewhat incestuous. she shakes her head. she is not in love with him, was never in love with him, and is not jealous either. or maybe that, she is. but not in the way that people think. not in the way that girls used to gossip about the three of them in bathrooms, like third year: do you think she likes them both? sixth year: do you think she’s shagging them both? 

as a matter of fact, she is shagging neither of them. and, she is jealous of harry, of harry and ginny in the way that ron’s kissed her, cried on her shoulder since the death of his brother, but has yet to really touch her. she wants to cry and she wants to scream at someone, something, for taking away romance and hormones and sweet teenage experiences but tom riddle is dead, now, and there is just silence to scream at. 

‘you should sleep,’ she tells harry.

he laughs. that’s a sound she still yearns to hear. ‘you should too.’

#harry potter fic #hermione granger #harry & hermione #fic #writing #ron/hermione

[noelleai]

Susie sat on the bench outside of her house and stared up into the night sky. She felt a strong feeling of loneliness come over her. The moonlight was shining bright that night. She felt like someone would always be there to talk to, someone who wouldn't leave her alone even if it meant they had to die. She felt like she needed someone special to comfort her. Someone she could trust and tell them everything about herself and not worry about getting judged. She thought of how much easier life would be if she just had someone to hold onto while she slept. She wondered why no one else had these thoughts or needs. She then heard footsteps behind her, and turned around to see someone standing behind her. They were looking down at her. It was Noelle. She smiled softly. "Hey."

"Hi."

The two girls stayed silent until Noelle finally broke the silence. "What are you doing here?"

"Just sitting," said Susie. "I've been thinking about something..."

Noelle looked down at Susie, noticing how tired she seemed. She took a seat next to Susie. "You don't look so good... Did your mom yell at you again? Or maybe dad did?"

Susie shook her head. "They're both fine now... I'm just tired."

Noelle placed a hand on Susie's shoulder. "It'll all work itself out eventually."

"Yeah, I hope so." Susie closed her eyes. "It's just hard sometimes."

"Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" asked Noelle.

Susie opened her eyes and nodded. "Yes, please."

"Okay!" said Noelle, standing up.

Noelle and Susie went inside Susie's home, where Susie immediately laid on the couch. Noelle sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "How do you feel?"

"Better than earlier today," replied Susie.

"That's great! You should keep doing what makes you happy."

Susie nodded.

"Susie, how's your story coming along?" Noelle asked.

"Oh, that thing?" Susie laughed nervously. "Well, uhm, I still haven't finished it yet, but I think I'm close."

Noelle chuckled. "Don't stress yourself too much, Susie. I bet it's going to turn out great."

"Thanks." said Susie with a smile.

"...Would you like to read it?"

"Sure!" said Noelle, excited.

Susie got up, grabbed the laptop from its stand near the window, and brought it back to the couch. She flipped through the pages until she came across the one she wanted. "Here it is," she said as she handed the computer to Noelle.

"Thank you," said Noelle as she started reading the story.

"I can't believe I wrote this crap," said Susie under her breath.

Noelle looked up. "Did you say something?"

"Nothing important," said Susie, trying to hide her embarrassment.

She continued reading, only stopping once or twice to ask questions about some of the words she didn't understand. Susie was writing a story based on the events that happened during her last summer vacation before highschool. The story was called 'The Summer Before High School'. It was about Susie and her friend Noelle having adventures together. It wasn't the most well-written piece of literature, but Noelle was proud of her friend for working hard on it. After silently reading for a while longer, she looked over at Susie and saw her face twitching in shame.

"I don't know why I thought I could write a decent novel," muttered Susie to herself.

"What are you talking about?" asked Noelle.

"I've never written anything good..." said Susie softly.

"Susie! Don't say things like that! You're amazing! You should keep practicing!" exclaimed Noelle. "Why would you ever think that?!"

Susie's eyes went wide. "...What do you mean by that?! What makes me special?"

"You're wonderful!" replied Noelle with an emphatic smile. "Your heart's just so big... There's nothing more beautiful than your smile." She then leaned forward and gave Susie a small kiss on the forehead. She smiled at the look of shock and confusion on Susie's face, the girl unable to reply back because of her embarrassment.

"There," said Noelle, smiling proudly, "that'll make you feel better. And I'm sure that after we read this, it will be even more evident that you can write stories that no one else can match."

"...You really believe in me?" whispered Susie quietly.

"Of course I do." replied Noelle confidently. "Now go ahead, finish writing it already! I can't wait to see what comes next."

Susie smiled weakly and started typing again. It didn't take very long before she finished her story and showed it to Noelle.

"Here," said Susie nervously. "It might not be perfect or whatever, but..." she trailed off.

"But it's awesome," said Noelle enthusiastically. "It has such beautiful descriptions! You've got a great eye for detail! And the characters are super unique!" She placed a hand on Susie's shoulder and squeezed it tightly. "I've never seen anything like it!"

Susie blushed lightly and looked down at the floor. She was so embarrassed by all the praise from Noelle. 'I don't deserve any of this,' thought Susie as she stared at her shoes. But despite how embarrassing it was, there was something inside of her that felt proud that someone could tell her that much without saying something mean about her work first.

"...Are you okay?" asked Noelle, noticing how quiet her friend had gotten.

Susie nodded quickly. "Y-yeah... I'm sorry... I just... I'm happy you liked my story... I guess."

Noelle smiled brightly. "It's okay... I know what you mean though. I have trouble believing in myself sometimes too... But I'll keep trying until I finally believe it." She put an arm around Susie's shoulders. "...You should sleep now."

"Yeah," said Susie softly, nodding slowly and closing her eyes.

"Good night, Susie," said Noelle, giving her friend another hug.

"Good night, Noelle," said Susie, still tired. { TYPE: Long-form story * M2 }

#artificialintelligence #ai #fanfic #fanfiction #deltarune #susie x noelle #susie #noelle x susie #deltarune noelle x susie #noelle #deltarune chapter 2 #susie deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 kris x noelle #deltarune susie x noelle #noelle deltarune #deltarune noelle #susie and noelle moments deltarune #deltarune 2 #kris x noelle x susie #susie x noelle comic #deltarune suselle #deltarune susie #suselle #suselle deltarune

[momiamtired]

chapter 2 so they think im cringe. i will never be able to see my friends bc i will be able to leve canada onlt after 4 years bc of this stupid and random biometrics shit and i had only chance of meeting them this summer but now its all pointless bc of a random canada government decision. i want to pee so bad and this stupid american bitch is washing her ass for 2348493 hours with stupid pop childish music in the background gosh. i lost 700 dollars recently idk where or how i genuanly dont know its prob my roommate but im not sure so basically yeah and im reallt sensitive about losing money so yesterday was a fun day to me. my stupid mind is doing some crazy shit and tries to convince me to believe in karma or god idk basically its if i will think that everything will be bad then everything will be good but i should genuanly believe it all will be bad and i just go back n forth with this idea always going on on my minds. i have a couple of different templates of how this world from my mind' perspective works but im too tired to think ab it. ig every time i think that its just what it is its just how wolrd is and nobody is giving me a happy time after all of this is over as my mind always tries to constantly tell me i guess its just too painful for me. i want to believe that i will be happy in a short time. i want too. but every day i wake up and some awful shit happens to me. its awful to be extraverted and i dont have friends here. i hate this fucking bitch PLEASE leve i want to use toilet wtf is wrong with u. pleeeeaseee im all sweaty npw bc of how i want to pee. i noticed that they wash themselves so rarely here. idk why my roommate smells just awful and she is 22 and she never washes herself so at night when i have troubles sleeping i also need to smell her beatiful aromas and im gonna be silent ab her mouth like she never washes her teeth how can u have so many man and smell so awful and be so nasty. anyways i dont reallt know what to do? i lost my motivation to even live( but not to eatt i will never lose it i have ed) i just dont want to do anything to see anything to feel anything i just want to die and be reborn. i dont believe in reincarnation but being able to not feel anything is better than living how i live now. i never cry but i cry here really often. like a couple of times per weak? i never cry literally never. that bc my coping mechanism is trying to find a decision and i will fucking find this decision even if im gonna die but rn there is no decision there is nothing there is just finnish studying than good luck to being lucky for finding a place to live and a job and if u wont find a placce to stay u will have to sleep on a bed with a roommate who washes herself once per weak and stole ur only money. and even now my mind is trying to say to me that i will be fine and the situation will be better! but fuck u it wont be better and i know it because there is no fucking hope left here there is literallt nothing left no fucking move will make it better NOTHING will make it better. im a fucking psychology major wtf is wrong with me. i just cant believe how cruel the life is and how awful it is and how i just couldnt ever think it could get that bad. its just all of my failures they are so random and its not even my fault in any of those! and as i told u my mind again tries justify everything that is happening to me like no just think ab it!! no way it can be this awful right? no way this all could happen to u just like this and without a happy ending! yes it can and yes it happened and im tired of expecting something good to happen to me i just want to die pls why do i have parennts it would be so much easier. i would love to leave this hell and so study to europe but we already spent SO much money on only this first semester so i cant even imagine how can i justify going back home in my head, in front of my relatives. i hate myself

[dani-sdiary]

18th Birthday

I've been thinking that maybe I should just do it. All of it. Cheat on cappucinos, have a torrid affair with herbal tea. Exercise. Even 45-step skincare routines. Journal. "Practice gratitude." (Good God). Even if just to cross it off my list.

But I've never been that kind of person. Health is performative and foreign to me. It's almost frightening. I've always been too busy drowning to bother with trying to swim. I wouldn't even know how to go about being alive in a way that makes sense. But I am moving out soon (but not soon enough), so if there's a time to do it, it's now.

I mock health because I'm envious. I want to be a real person, but it's easier to romanticize pain by calling it being adorably messy or a work-in-progress. It's all I've ever known. I hate who I am.

Makeup isn't fun for me. Skincare isn't fun. Everything showers aren't my idea of a good time, or something I do to relax, or "me time." Trying to transform what has always been horrifically ugly into something passably presentable is work, yet another exhausting task to add to my never-ending to-do list. But besides all the expensive products and pressure, I need to start actually cooking real adult meals. I need to be less pathetic (though a little is acceptable). I need to be kinder. I need to be honest. I need to read more. I need to watch more movies. I need to pet my dog more and spend more time with my parents and write more. I need to learn how to take care of myself.

But at this point, I'm not worth the effort. I just can't justify the work. I'm 18 and all of the stupid things old people tell me won't matter in a few years are my current lived, endured reality. Knowing I'll have different (probably worse) issues that even older people will belittle in a few years doesn't help me right now.

Yes, I care about silly high school milestones. I'm not going to be valedictorian. I failed and dropped several classes. I wasn't student body president. I've spent my whole life here and I'm so terrified I'll die here. I went to a regular public high school in Bumfuck, WA and I'm going to a public, in-state (of course) university (in an even smaller town) with a 95% acceptance rate, to major in something I don't believe in, I'm not interested in, and that will get me 28,000$/yr. I'm not exceptional, or interesting, or good in any way. I have no talents; I've spent the past four years rotting in my bedroom with foil over the windows. And I'm not happy. School is my whole life; I don't have anything else going on. I'm not going to homecoming. I'm not going to prom. I'm still a virgin. I never drank. I never went to a party. I didn't use my time in high school wisely, nor did have any fun. Sure, things could get better from now on. But my experiences up until this point are set in stone. I've aged out of so much. I've missed summer@brown. I've missed Washington Week. I've missed the national merit scholarship. I've missed friends. Boyfriends. Everything. I have nothing to show for my childhood. I don't know how to move on. I don't know how to get over what I lost. God, I hate how fucking whiny I sound complaining about nothing. Why do I say "God" so much? It's kind of disrespectful.

I guess I wish my parents wanted more for me, pushed me harder. I love them, but I can't condone their complete complacency. They're not disappointed in what I've become at all. They're so completely okay with my failure. I love them, but they don't hate me enough and that kills me.

I thought it fitting this post should be so fucking late. My birthday is January 30. I wish it was in August, so I could always be the youngest in my class (disgusting). It's just it all piles on together. Thanksgiving (freshman fifteen), fall quarter finals, Christmas, New Year's (and it's dreaded resolutions), birthday (an old biddy with cataracts and arthritis), and then, the cherry on top, fucking Valentine's Day.

God, I hate this girl. She's so annoying and stupid and pathetic. She talks about herself in the third person. It's because I want to distance myself as much as possible. Be not here and not this.

I want to be a teenager girl, just like everybody else. But I'm more of a middle-aged alcoholic man. I don't think being a mentally stable adult is in the cards for me, but I think it can get better than this. I hope it can.

Mmm. I'm getting notes of dirt and gasoline from this tea. Yummy. Cheers, darlings! Here's to being less shitty.

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