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senselessviolets · 2 days ago

Text

“stay soft”

Roman Roy x Fem. Reader

Rating E (Smut)

Word Count: 3.3k

AO3 Link

WARNINGS:

Mommy kink, smut, some plot, this man has MOMMY ISSUES™️, gentle femdom, titplay, breast sucking, so much dirty talk, Roman gets called “baby” a lot, no PIV, no uses of Y/N

Author's Notes:

The people have spoken—y’all want Roman being fucking babied in bed so that’s what the fuck I did and I have zero regrets. Totally gave up in the end but school’s been incredibly draining for me so I’m proud of myself for even getting THIS out.

[Gif creds: I forget. if it’s yours, lemme know!!]

Summary:

You are an equally wealthy childhood friend of the Roys and Roman in particular. After years of little to no contact with him, he and you decide to finally act on the mutual attraction you both share in the most ‘Roman way’ you can think of.

“Okay, but like if we…fuckin’...if we fuckin’ do this, I will want…some things. But I’m not g’na fuckin’ beg or anything…call you mommy, ‘goo goo ga ga’…none of that shit. I will want you…to be there…and I will want you to ‘not be there’...if you catch my drift. I-I don’t wanna hear a fuckin’ word or a single moan. I don’t want—I just don’t want it, okay. And this might sound bad—even though I’ve definitely said worse—but you would be just a-a means for me,” a voicemail blears in your ear as you are made aware of the four calls you missed in your slumber, “‘Kay? I dunno. Think it over. It’s not fuckin’ life or death. Until it is. And I kill you. And hide the body and burn the evidence…kidding! ‘Kay, love you, kidding, ‘kay, bye!”

This was uncharted territory for you both.

You and Roman and the other Roy children were longtime family friends. Like Stewy Hosseni or a lesser example Ray Kennedy. What that meant was your incredibly loaded dad gave Logan Roy an ungodly sum of money in the nineties and had managed to stay on his good side ever since. At their status, that’s what qualified as ‘friendship’. Everything was a transaction at the end of the day. Like you suspected Logan and Caroline had bought their way into their kids’ hearts, to even be in the same room as these titans—to breathe the same air—you had to beg, steal, or borrow. Fortunately, you hailed from less-than-humble beginnings; your father being an incredibly successful venture capitalist-turned-philanthropist and your mother the heiress of a billion-dollar publishing company.

But it was all just details.

You were eternally grateful to be an only child, imagining an existence where you and your progeny were destined to forever claw at each other's throats—all for whatever scraps your parents were generous enough to leave you.

Unfortunate. ‘Pitiful’ felt more accurate. Every hollow soiree and vapid function served as a reminder. These were not your people. And they never would be. And yet—

“Heya! Well, you look less miserable than usual. Lemme guess, you finally ditched Loser What’s-His-Face and have taken up my longstanding advice of giving lesbianism a try,”

“Hi, Roman. No, I’ve actually been reminiscing about our younger years together. Remember the time you threw up in your mouth before presenting me my corsage the night of the winter formal? Seventh grade? Ring a bell?”

“That was because it only dawned upon me then that I would be getting Cody Keener’s sloppy seconds,” he answers, “I just couldn’t cope with that, I’m sorry,”

You slug him in the arm and he reacts overdramatically, as if someone stuck him with the pointy end of a knife. Onlookers included none other than Frank Vernon, Hugo Baker, and a close friend of your mom’s, Michelle Anne. This time, you and Roman had crossed paths at your father’s 70th birthday party. It was held at your parents’ penthouse on the Upper East Side and attracted a decent crowd. Faces you’d sworn you met pass you by as strangers come up to you, recounting memories of you who were only this tall. It was always a discombobulating experience but you continued to frolic and mingle nonetheless.

In truth, this little ‘reunion’ was nothing but a facade.

You and Roman had been talking for weeks now after years of no contact with one another. Brief texts turned into prolonged phone calls which by the end of the night became one-sided, pathetic voicemails expressing some sort of yearning for the other. It was becoming all-consuming and quite frankly, exhausting. And now it had finally come to blows.

There was a plan, there were contingencies (of course, there were) but above all—there was transparency. And that was something you could hold onto. Oh, the many men who lied their way into your bed. And then here comes Roman, who’d made it abundantly clear he’d rather inhale glass than have you worm your way into his. So this scheme would not transpire at his place or yours.

It would be occurring in a Central Park Suite at The Carlyle—just a quick jaunt from your parents’ place. He deigned to be a gentleman and handled the reservations as well as your transportation because you had to already be there. You were going to be lying on the bed, in some satiny sleepwear. No lingerie, no hosiery—nothing that could be construed as ‘sexy’. You were to look mundane, average, and bored.

Roman would enter and you would be still and let him do as he pleased. While you’d had this endeavor nailed to a T, you’d be lying if you said the prospect of him going off-script—doing things rougher, harder, doors off the hinges, letting his darker impulses get the better of him—didn’t make your knees buckle a bit.

So once the candles had been blown, the birthday wishes made, and goodbyes were said—you were to slide into his black Range Rover SV while his secondary chauffeur Crispin brought you to your destination. In your duffel was your change of clothes and a few other goodies. It had crossed your mind—once, twice how exceedingly easy it would be to bail right about now. Crispin could drop you off on the side of the road like some floozy and then your personal chauffeur could pick you up and drive you back to your cozy brownstone for a mundane evening spent by yourself—alone. That was the part that struck a pang in your stomach. That was the truly unbearable part. That, and the heat between your thighs which was starting to become really inconvenient.

Now was not the time to get cold feet.

You had already slid your sequin cocktail dress off and exchanged it for your satin sleepwear. Like the pretty kept thing he’d instructed you to be, you lay flat across the plush hotel mattress, awaiting his arrival, legs swinging to and fro like an eager teenage girl.

Maybe he’d be the one to pussy out.

At least then you’d have yet another thing to hold over his head for the foreseeable future. In your phone’s front-facing camera, you inspected the makeup you’d done earlier that evening for the party and it still seemed sufficient. Your lips seemed a bit drab. You roll off the bed and I sift through the contents of your bag, searching for the mauve lip color you’d brought along. Dabbing it onto the purse of your mouth while gazing into the mirror of the room’s modest vanity—you begin to lose track.

This isn’t it and you know it.

You know it.

So fucking do something about it.

Examining the time on the wall clock, you decide to hastily shake off your striped satin pj set and tear through your duffel for the sheer lace slip and matching long gloves. Not liking the unkemptness of your long hair at this particular moment, you palm your bag for one of the chignon French hairpins that had sunk their way to the bottom—a go-to for you since your younger years. The best you can muster is a half-up, loose, more-than-messy low bun because suddenly, a knock on the door can be heard. Your heart leaps into your throat and you shove your duffel bag into the armoire in a hurried panic. The click of the hotel room’s keycard lock comes next and you spring to the door as to be the one to open it. You and Roman meet each other’s gaze through the crack of the half-open door, you two beam down at your hands, enclosed over both sides of the handle. He is very noticeably startled, not expecting you to answer the door.

“C-Come on in,” you stutter, gesturing into the hotel suite with a gloved hand.

Roman’s mouth goes dry. It is not all that often the family jester is able to be truly caught off-guard. This absolutely was one of those times. He shuffles into the room with tepid steps and doesn’t turn around to face you until he hears the door click shut. With a blank, nonchalant expression—he shrugs, prompting you to provide some sort of explanation. Of which, you do not possess.

“What?” you say.

“What’s…all of that about?”

“Yeah, sorry…wasn’t really feeling the pajamas tonight. I opted for something I felt was a little more fitting. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No,”

He definitely fucking does mind actually. But any frustration at being caught unawares expresses itself in the form of big beautiful hazel eyes beaming at you with fear and uncertainty. His lips are parted, unable to form the words he can’t even begin to think of at this particular moment.

“So…,”

“...so…?”

“So…lay down,” you finally say.

Roman is able to briefly channel the smarmy assholeishness he usually hones with a sarcastic scoff and smirk. He shakes his head to himself before his gaze finds the floor.

“...I’m sorry, maybe you just didn’t hear me right the first time,” you say, crossing over until you are eye-to-eye with him and your competing breaths can be felt, “...or maybe I should’ve been a bit more specific.”

You lean in until your lips brush the outer shell of his right ear and he stops breathing.

“Roman. Lay the fuck down on that bed. Now.”

He quickly scrambles onto the bed, resting on his back while slightly sitting up. There is a tentative eagerness in his demeanor as if the last hints of resistance in his muscles had yet to dissipate.

“Good. Now can you unbutton your shirt by yourself or do you need my help?”

“...I-I-I need your help,” he mindlessly babbles, “P-Please. Please, can you help me?”

You click your tongue at his wanton request, attempting to maintain your composure. It was after the first ‘please’ that you knew you were going to willingly give everything in you to this man right then and there.

The safeguards? Fuck the safeguards.

The time for self-preservation was about five or so minutes ago before his knuckles had rapped gently on the heavy wooden door. Without breaking eye contact, you straddle him effortlessly, both knees on either side of his hips. You aren’t certain because all the blood had flooded to your ears and you were unable to hear much over the thumping of your own heartbeat but you swear you hear a quiet ‘oh god’ slip out of him. Your fingers find the buttons on his grey button-down and your wrists noticeably begin to shake as they undo them.

For fuck’s sake.

Up until this point, you had conjured the impression that you were the one in control here and that there was nothing he could say or do otherwise. But now the true vulnerability of the situation had begun to set in. The playing field had been leveled.

His fingers enrapture yours and he steadies your grasp as you both work to unbutton his shirt. Roman swallows, anxiously. You get more than half of the way there before he gives up and presses his face firmly to yours.

It’s a declarative kiss.

It’s long-lasting and when the two of you eventually break it—you know there’s no going back. Those hands of his, wracked with nerves, find their way to your hips. He slowly drags the lacey fabric up so your upper thighs are exposed. Once you can feel the soft flesh of your hips exposed to the cold air, you grab his wrists and he freezes.

“Ah-ah-ah, I don’t think I remember saying you could do that,”

“I-I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry. Don’t—I’m sorry,”

“So many apologies, they just keep on coming,”

“I’m…,” he deeply exhales out of his nose.

“You’re what? Wait, lemme guess,” you goad, “Sorry?”

He bobs his head up and down, face full of embarrassment.

“Hm…think I’m a little sick and tired of those ‘sorrys’, sweetie. You and that mouth of yours. Oh, that fuckin’ mouth of yours. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the amount of headaches it’s caused me in what, the two decades I’ve known you? What are we gonna finally do about that mouth?”

Roman looks up to you, hanging onto your every last word.

“I-I don’t know, j-just tell me what to do. I can make it up to you, I-I promise,”

You genuinely take a moment to mull it over, though the growing hardness pressing against your most intimate place admittedly was making it hard to think.

“...I think…we need to find another use for that mouth of yours—something to keep it busy, hm? How does that sound, my sweet baby?”

You swear his face goes pale as he assumes you mean your cunt. While the thought had crossed your mind (many, many times in fact), knowing Roman—you know that would be too much. And that you would lose him forever somewhere along the way and you didn’t even want to begin to think about that.

You tilt your head, staring longingly at that poor little boyish face of his. Your clothed index finger traces its way slowly from the exposed flesh of his tummy, up to his ribs, across his collarbone, along his Adam’s apple, over his bearded chin— finally stopping at his pinkish bottom lip. You pull it down, making him pout for you.

“Open for me,” you utter softly.

Roman obeys, his tongue moving upwards in his mouth when he swallows. You continue to tease around his mouth torturously, the lace creating a delicious friction against his beard. The heat of his pants against your lone finger makes you stir inside.

“Now, close your eyes—mouth still open,”

He noticeably resists before relenting, his eyes flutter closed. You drop one of the spaghetti straps of the slip off of your shoulder, exposing yourself. Your nipple pebbles in the cool air conditioning of the room. You awkwardly lean your torso inwards, inching your breast closer to his mouth. For a brief second, his eyes flick open, taking in the scene. Catching your drift instantly, he swallows as much of the soft flesh as his mouth will allow, moaning into it. The most obscene sucking sounds soon fill the room. Roman whimpers into your skin, letting his head fall limp against your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, cradling his head. His brown fluff of hair is too tempting for your hands to not tangle themselves in.

“There, you go…you’re so good. You’re so good for me, aren’t you? Yeah?” you sigh, tilting your head backward.

You swear you can feel your hips gyrating on their own. Roman’s fingers have ensnared themselves onto the flimsy fabric of your slip, gripping it so tight you think it might tear. Not that you’d give a shit if it did.

“Y’know what I think? I think you act the way you do all the fucking time because you’re just waiting for someone to come and put you in your place, is that right? Yeah? You’re a brat ‘cause you want someone to do this to you? Hm?”

He releases your nipple and an almost pornographic line of spit drools from his mouth. Roman’s lips are plump and rosy, kiss-bruised and swollen. You find out just how warm they’ve become when his wet mouth comes to meet your own in a kiss so messy, you know you’ll touch yourself thinking about it later.

“I-Is this good? A-Am I being a good boy for you?”

“Mm-hm, you’re being a very good boy for me. My good boy. Mommy’s good boy, right?”

“Yes, fuck, yes—” he sobs, moving onto your other breast.

His voice is shrill and wrought with desperation. You only ever heard it get this high-pitched when he was making a mocking impression of you or some other woman. And now here he was, making these noises all on his own. The edge of his bottom teeth catches your nipple in just the right away. You squeal, jolting upwards in his lap and laughing at the surprise sensation. He soothes the sensitive skin with the flat of his tongue immediately after.

“That’s it. There’s my boy, there’s my sweet baby boy,”

All of the sudden, his hands leave your slip and fly to the buckle of his belt. Roman undoes his zipper and shimmies down his slacks enough to pull his dick out. He jerks it quickly with his eyes wound tightly shut in an attempt to get himself completely hard.

“M-Mommy, c-can I see ‘it’? P-Please, god!” Roman begs out.

Your current position leaves his cock hidden by the hem of your slip. All you can see is the silhouette of his fist in the fabric pumping up and down speedily—relentlessly. He could easily just lift the skirt himself and look at your bare pussy, just as he hungrily wants but he doesn’t.

He waits. He waits for you to give him permission.

“See what, sweet boy? Say it, use your words for me. You’re a big boy, you can do it. I know you can,”

Your hands cup his face and you rest your forehead on his. The skin is taught and slick with sweat. A vein above his brow becomes visible as he strains into his own palm.

“What do you want, Roman?” you reiterate, trying to regain his attention.

“Fff-fuck! Your p-pussy, I wanna see y-your pussy!”

“All together. Say it all together. Say ‘Mommy, can I please see your pretty pussy?’”

“Mommy, can I please see your pretty pussy?”

His eyes finally open and they aim downwards, expectantly.

“Is that all you want, pretty boy?”

“N-N-yes!”

“Is that all you want?”

“No! No, I wanna cum, I-I wanna f-f-finish! W-Wanna finish on it,” he whines.

“All together, baby…”

“Mommy, can I please finish on your pretty pussy?! Please!”

It’s on the last syllable of his sentence that he erupts. Only as he’s cumming is he able to look at your cunt. You swiftly move the fabric up and his load catches the edge of it, the rest of it coating your exposed pussy. Roman falls backwards limp onto the pillow and you roll off of him and the bed and onto your jelly-like legs. The two of you don’t look at each other, occupying opposite sides of the room while you make yourselves decent. You shed your stained garment, using it to wipe your cunt clean. You fling it onto the hotel carpet and don’t think twice about it.

“Mind if I…borrow that…for a bit?” a weak voice croaks from across the suite.

You turn your head and smirk, still topless.

“All yours.”

Briefly, you catch a glimpse of Roman from behind, buttoning up his shirt. You pull up your dress, sweatier than before when you had taken it off. You expected there to be a palpable shift between the two of you, had everything gone according to plan. You figured the next RECNY ball that was just around the corner might be a bit awkward but it was nothing a few sarcastic quips and some alcohol couldn’t fix.

“My guy’s still waiting out front, so that’s my not-so-stealthy getaway. I can have Crispin pull around in twenty if I guess, I dunno, you wanted to shower the stank off of y…”

Roman’s words trail off as he becomes caught up in the sight of you; your cocktail dress zipped up halfway, your hair in an even messier updo than before, one heel on with the other remaining to be seen. It left him dumbfounded, feeling impulsive, like he could leave everything behind then and there and things might turn out alright.

“Um…d’you maybe wanna just come with me…I dunno. Back at my place, I mean. And don’t make it into…it’s not a thing. Th-This is not a thing. But, yeah, we could order in whatever you, you could stay over, I-I got spare rooms–”

“Roman—”

“—it-its not like a big deal or anything, y’know? This isn’t, this wasn’t ‘a thing’. Fuckin’ labels and everything, I m—”

“Roman! That all sounds fine; I just would like to exit one of the nicest hotels in the damn city not looking like a two-bit whore, yeah? Come and zip me up,”

“I mean, if you ask me—I think it’s a rather fitting look,” he says, echoing your previous words.

“ROMAN!”

“Alright, fuck, fine!”

End.

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#roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #roman roy smut #roman roy imagine #roman roy #succession hbo #succession #succession fluff #roman roy angst #succession fanfic #succession x reader

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munsonsmixtapes · 3 days ago

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Hi I hope you are having a great day.

I was wondering if you could write more about Eddie Munson dating a Swiftie.

- Swiftie anon

um yes absolutely!

I saw a tiktok where a girl was showing her boyfriend All Too Well (10 Minute Version) which is what this was inspired by. If I can find it, I'll link it here!

"So this one is allegedly about Jake Gyllenhall," you tell him as you put on the next song, turning it up since it's the one you really to see his reaction to.

"How do you know this?"

"The internet, baby. That's why I say allegedly because there's no actual confirmation that it's about him, but I mean, it's pretty clear that it is."

"This is ten minutes?" He asks as he looks at the little screen in his car that shows what song is playing.

Sure, a lot of the songs he listens to are much longer than that, but that's expected with the genres he listens to. It's not very common for a pop song to exceed five minutes so he thinks there must be a lot that needs to be said.

"Yes," you nod. "But I promise it won't even feel like. Oh, and there's a short film as well that we can watch later."

"A short film?"

Eddie doesn't know why that surprises him. Considering everything he's heard about this woman from you, it seems like she's always doing something and even though he's never really been a huge fan of hers, he can still appreciate how much she loves her job and how much effort and love she puts into each project.

"Yes! It really shows what their relationship was like and puts the whole thing into perspective."

The lyrics start and you're singing along, even going as far as pulling out a red scarf from your purse and wrapping it around your neck. Eddie looks at you briefly before turning back to the road as he laughs how committed to the bit you are.

You're singing along to the lyrics as Eddie tries to focus on them, pausing the song after only a few lines.

I walked through the door with you, the air was cold But something 'bout it felt like home somehow And I left my scarf there at your sister's house And you've still got it in your drawer, even now

"Pause," he says, trying to wrap his head around what he's just heard.

"He kept her scarf?" The whole thing seems so weird to him. He understands to an extent, but not enough to defend who is being sung about.

"Yes!" You reply. "He was even seen wearing it while walking around town, Eddie! There are paparazzi pictures."

"So weird," he shakes his head then plays the song again.

And I know it's long gone and That magic's not here no more And I might be okay, but I’m not fine at all

"This is so heartbreaking," he comments, really hearing the pain in her voice.

"And it only gets worse from here," you sigh, obviously already knowing what's coming.

And you were tossing me the car keys, "Fuck the patriarchy" Keychain on the ground, we were always skipping town And I was thinking on the drive down, "Any time now, He's gonna say it's love", you never called it what it was Till we were dead and gone and buried Check the pulse and come back, swearing it's the same After three months in the grave And then, you wondered where it went to, as I reached for you But all I felt was shame and you held my lifeless frame

Eddie doesn't want to admit it, but that part's made him feel something. Maybe it's just how heartbroken she sounds or how she talks about how she really seemed to love him and was proud of their relationship while whoever she's singing about just wanted to hide what they had away because he seemed ashamed.

He thinks about how he would never want to do that to you, how he loves to flaunt your relationship, even going as far as kissing you in public, not giving a single damn who's watching. So he doesn't understand how people can feel so ashamed of their partner.

And you call me up again Just to break me, like a promise So casually cruel in the name of being honest I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here 'Cause I remember it all, all, all Too well

"He made her feel like a piece of paper, Eddie."

"Brutal," he replies with a sigh.

They say all's well that ends well, but I'm in a new Hell Every time you double-cross my mind You said, "If we had been closer in age, maybe it would have been fine" And that made me want to die

"What was the age difference?"

"She was nineteen or twenty and he was twenty-nine." That makes Eddie's stomach churn. He's the same age and can't even conceptualize wanting to pursue someone as young as nineteen or twenty. That's a whole nine and ten years difference and that would definitely make for a power imbalance.

"Gross. And he's just saying that to make himself feel better. Because the truth is, he was going to end it anyway because it's clear that he doesn't care about her as much and she cares about him. The whole thing seems manipulative."

"See! I knew you'd understand." You love how much he's actually thinking about the lyrics and what they mean just like you do.

The idea you had of me, who was she? A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you Not weeping in a party bathroom Some actress asking me what happened, you That's what happened, you You, who charmed my dad with self-effacing jokes Sipping coffee like you're on a late-night show But then he watched me watch the front door all night, willing you to come And he said, "It's supposed to be fun turning twenty-one"

"Hold on," he pauses the music again. "He didn't show up to her birthday party?"

"No," you shake your head in disappointment. "He didn't. And there's a whole song about that which we can listen to later."

And I was never good at telling jokes, but the punch line goes I'll get older, but your lover's stay my age

"Damn," is all Eddie can say in response to the line. "That was cutthroat."

The song comes to an end as the the car rolls up to your destination and Eddie just sits there, staring out through the windshield, clearly deep in thought. He then turns to you, still looking like he's pondering.

"Can we listen to it again?" He asks, which surprises you."

"Of course we can, baby," you reply and play the song again as you two sit in silence in the grocery store parking lot that Eddie had just pulled into. It seems like your groceries can wait. At least for the next ten minutes, they can.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x swiftie!reader

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maddy-k-reads-all-day · 3 days ago

Text

When Friends Drift Away…

Previous fantape:

Riley patched up the demon. It quickly ran away afterwards. Is it because Amanda trusts me now? Riley wonders. It’s confusing. Riley was certain that Amanda’s demon was afraid of the other one, whom Riley assumed belonged to Wooly. But Wooly’s is so violent. Riley thinks, shuddering as they remember Joanne. Wooly… I think he tends to bottle a lot of things up. He’s clearly trying to put on a brave face for Amanda… but I don’t think she likes being lied to… even if it’s for a good reason. Riley thinks to themselves. They pull out the newest tape. Amanda did not make this puzzle easy. I need to find all these tapes so Hameln doesn’t destroy them, but I can’t do that if they destroy me first… Riley puts the tape into the VCR and it plays.

Amanda and Wooly are on a boat in the middle of a lake. Amanda sits there pouting while Wooly looks back and forth between us and her nervously.

“Hi friends, I’m Wooly!”

“And I’m Amanda.” she grumbled.

“That just felt… so wrong.”

“Shut up Wooly.”

“Aww…”

“Today we have another letter from a friend at home! This time it’s from… Esmerelda… Sanchez… dear Amanda and Wooly, I used to have a friend… We used to be really really close like… best friends. But then… she got adopted and moved far away… we talked on the phone every night… until I moved away and lost her number. Then I couldn’t find her again. I really really really miss her. Amanda, what do you do when friends drift away?” Amanda falls quiet. “Esme… I… remember you now…”

“Amanda-”

“I used to have a lot of friends! But they’re all gone now! You know a lot of my friends used to watch my show, because I was on it, they said. They used to tell me it was so cool seeing me on tv! Haha! If any of them are still… alive… they’re probably all adults by now! So we aren’t friends anymore!”

“I’m sure if you ran into them again you could still be friends.”

“Nah… we’re totally different now. They grew up… and I didn’t.” She pauses, but before Wooly can say anything she says, “We probably would have totally different hobbies and stuff to talk about. Like totally different people! It’s fine!”

“But that’s sad…”

“Mmm… I guess… It can make you feel pretty lonely. But… I like to think of this little dream I used to have. That if everything went the way my dad wanted, one day years from then, even if we weren’t friends anymore… maybe she’d find some old tapes of the show at a yard sale or something and show them to her kids. Then she’d brag to them about how she used to be best friends with Amanda for real. Hey, maybe I’d be showing my kids this show to… if it were a project I could be proud of…”

“And maybe… you would run into each other at the grocery store or something and become friends again. Li-like not the same as before… but like with your new hobbies and stuff it’d be like a brand new friendship all over again.”

“Yeah, I like that idea.” Amanda giggles, “Thanks for the question Esme! I hope I see you again someday!” The credit song starts to play, then stops. “You didn’t think that was the end did you? Haha I wish! I’m still stuck on this dumb boat! With him!”

“Hey!”

“It’s the worst possible place to end an episode on, what is this a horror-story?” Amanda groans, “it might as well be!”

“Amanda! That’s not very nice!”

“So we’re going fishing today! And Wooly’s the bait!”

“Amanda, stop it!”

“Maybe if we’re lucky he’ll get eaten by a shark. Nom-nom!”

“AMANDA!” Wooly screams. The tape glitches. “UGH! What is your problem lately? Why is it that no matter what I do, things never go back to the way they used to?!”

“Oh gee, I don’t know Wooly? Maybe because it’s literally your fault?!”

“WHAT DID I DO?!”

“What did you do? What did you DO?! Heh heh… haha… that’s funny Wooly. Almost as funny as your stupid face!” she suddenly lunges at him but the tape glitches and stops her. “I ALMOST got my memories back! I almost got to talk to someone again! Someone I knew! Someone who knew me! And you messed it all up!”

“But you did get your memories right?”

“Yeah. After Kate was DEAD!” Amanda screams. “And the worst part is she almost found a way for us to get out of here and you RUINED it!”

“I-”

“And then when I asked you how you knew we were going to escape, you had the NERVE to bring it up like it wasn’t your fault in the first place!”

“Amanda I-”

“So no Wooly, things will never go back to the way they used to!”

“I’m sorry! I just didn’t want to be alone again!” Wooly cries.

“Wha-”

“That day when we remembered we were human… we still didn’t know who we were or what was going on… just that we were trapped… I was… terrified… but you… even though you were surely scared too… you made me feel like everything was going to be alright… that no matter what things were going to turn out fine… that we were going to get out of here.” Wooly explains, gently stroking his right ear then moving over to the left, “But then this sinking feeling came over me. You would certainly get out of here… not me… I’d get left behind again… all alone in this stupid h---.”

“Wooly…”

“I didn’t want to remember that feeling… I didn’t want to let you go…”

“Every time Kate said something that caused me to remember something you’d always change the subject, get back on topic with the episode. Every time I tried to call for help… you’d silence me…”

“I’m sorry I was just… so scared… didn’t want to lose my first friend… but that was selfish of me. I know it was… I’m a horrible friend…”

“You are.”

“I deserve to be left here all alone…”

“Wooly no on-”

“Remember our first episode together? Hide and Seek? Remember what things were like back then?”

“Yeah… that was also the tape where… years later we first disco-”

“I’m talking about the first time… you were outgoing and kind… always ready for an adventurer. And I was shy, awkward, and always hiding in your shadow. Trailing behind you like a baby duckling. Funny… since I’m supposed to be the older one.” Wooly chuckled, “I just wanted things to stay that way… stay the way they were then…”

“Wooly-”

“Just let me finish. Then you can choose to never listen to me again, okay? I was selfish… I know that now. I thought if I just played my part I could convince myself I was happy here. But that was wrong of me. I’m sorry… I don’t know if or how I’ll ever make it up to you but… I want you to know that I’m going to make sure you get out of here. Whether it takes us 2 months or 20 more years. I will find a way… to make it up to you… I will get you out of here… you will get out of here.”

“We will get out of here.” Amanda corrects him, giving him a big hug.

“Amanda?”

“Things won’t be the same as before. We’re different people now… but maybe… we can start all over again? Make a brand new friendship?”

“Yeah… I’d like that.” Wooly said, accepting Amanda’s hug. She pulls away from the hug and pulls out her hand.

“Hi I’m Ama-” she pauses, “I’m Rebecca. Wanna be friends?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Rebecca. I’m William. I’d love to be friends!” Wooly beams shaking her hand. They turn and notice the sunset over the horizon of the lake. “Hey you finally got to see your sunset!”

“Yeah… I did…” Amanda sighs happily. The tape ends and falls out of the machine.

Amanda and Wooly are friends now. That’s great. Riley thinks. Esmerelda Sanchez… she must’ve been one of Amanda’s old friends… Riley tried to type the name into their phone but stopped. It's not like I’d know which one was the right one… and then what? If she is alive she’s probably an adult by now just as Amanda said… Then they think about the other thing Amanda said: “the worst part is she almost found a way for us to get out of here and you RUINED it!” Riley wondered what this way out was. Well clearly it didn’t work… and Kate lost hope in that plan so… it’s probably not too useful but I wish I knew what it was… I’m glad those two are friends now… Amanda is going to need someone by her side if things go… south… Riley stops and looks at their texts. Three more tapes to go… I should probably start looking…

See, I had a feeling this tape would actually go better here. Amanda and Wooly might fare better if they make up now rather than later. I told you this episode was going to be better. And it seemed like you guys (the readers) needed this now.

I honestly find it more interesting to see Wooly as someone whose not evil but not in the right either. Wooly in the games could definitely be working for Hameln and still be morally grey. He could be doing it out of fear rather than loyalty.

Personally, in retrospect I don't really like when kids shows lead kids to believe that friendship is FOREVER. Sometimes friends really do just drift apart and go their own places in life. I tried to show both sides in this. That yes, some bonds can be repaired but others can't.

Since a lot of you are probably wondering, yes, Esme is actually still alive. But Amanda's probably never going to see her again and Amanda's okay with that. In fact, she sees it as something that would've happened regardless of whether she got trapped or not. It's just life.

Honestly, Amanda and Wooly's perspectives on this are supposed to parallel each other. Where Amanda is fine with letting her old friends go and accepting change, Wooly was absolutely terrified, and the more he tried to hold on, the more their relationship soured. He held on so tight he squeezed the life out of their friendship.

So I tried to show both sides. Some friendships just drift apart... and others can be repaired.

#amanda the adventurer #amanda the adventurer 2 #wooly the sheep #ata 2 #amanda the adventurer wooly #maddykpost #fanfic #fanfiction #maddykwrites

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tkwrites · 3 days ago

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🐦‍⬛🐧🦤🐤

Ohh I love these! Decided to limit myself to 4 because, well, you just KNOW I wanted to send in an ask with all of them ��🙌😍

🐦‍⬛ a great quote of dialogue (maybe you're proud of how in-character it is, or how sharp the back and forth!)

“We talk a lot about body shaming, too.” Sarah said. “I’ve stopped reading things people post about me. They just make me sad and angry.”

“People post stuff about you?”

“Yeah, women mostly,” she said, shaking her head. “Comparison and that shit, you know?”

Jack sighed, nodding.

“I think there’s this…” she paused, trying to find the right words, “ownership people feel over Quinn - and I’m sure you - since he’s an athlete and more in the public eye. Like they know what’s best for him. I know, ultimately, it’s coming from a place of love and admiration, but it’s disheartening when they’re turning it on me, you know. It’s like they can’t see the humanity in either of us.”

🐧 a funny quote (silly! laughs! jokes! puns!)

“Trevor, I really like you, but my social cup is seven eights full and you won’t stop talking. I’m going to sit by myself. Do not follow me.”

The group laughed.

Sarah knew they thought she was joking, but she felt a little like she was about to fall over from social exhaustion.

As she made good on her promise and walked to the dock, silence fell.

Sitting, she dipped her feet in the cool water. Eventually, she lay back, looking up at the sky. There was too much light pollution to see the stars like they had at the New Hampshire house, but she could see a few, and some of the tension left her body upon seeing the big dipper and using it to find its littler counterpart.

Someone walked down the dock. She was pretty certain it was Quinn, so she didn’t look over. “You better be prepared to be silent if you plan on staying here.”

He chuckled as he lowered himself to the dock next to her. “That’s fine,” he said, mirroring her posture. “I’m always happy to get away from Zegras.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” she chided.

He found her hand and laced their fingers together. “I thought we were supposed to be silent.”

🦤 a quote you had to delete :( (but still wanna share!)

“Yes,” his head tipped back, resting against the red wallpaper. Just the sound of her voice was enough to get him worked up. “Fuck, that picture was…” he didn’t have the words in any of the three languages he spoke.

This was originally in It Doesn't Matter Part III, but I decided it needed to be cut. In the end, their phone call needed to be more sweet than sexy.

🐤 a mystery quote (take out the context, even censor the names if you want! let em guess!)

Reprieve finally came on Sunday afternoon. He was out with some of his teammates, and she was blissfully alone.

She relished the time to reset and recharge. She baked and made herself a fancy salad for lunch. She read and watched some trash reality TV. She took a nap.

Upon waking, she was feeling more rested than she had in days. But she missed him. She wanted to congratulate him with more than a quick blow job and a round of sex where she didn't have to bite her tongue because his family was in the house.

So, for the first time since the celebrating began, she pulled out her phone.

#tkanswers 📮#tkwrites wips #wip ask games #ask game #quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #nico & lena #it doesn't matter au #nico hischier #nico hischier fanfiction #nhl fanfiction

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gothamite-rambler · 1 day ago

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Harley trying (and failing) to make amends with Nightwing

artwork by: Padeliciouss (but I prefer this over a lot of her current outfits)

Context: Harley's application to join the Outlaws was "approved" because Bruce begged Jason to hire her so she would stop analyzing him and making him feel emotions he had buried and wanted to keep that way. Harley is happy about this, but she feels there’s one other former Robin who shares the same justified resentment toward her that Jason does. Nightwing, aka Dick Grayson, is fully on board with her pestering, talking to his brother and giving him a break from her not-annoying energy.

Harley Quinn, former bad guy, anti-hero, and unemployed therapist, chased after Nightwing as he tried to get away from her while on patrol.

Nightwing (looking back, frustrated): Stop chasing me!

Harley (playfully, grinning): Then have a chat with me!

Nightwing (exasperated): How did you find me?

Harley (pointing confidently): Babs told me.

Nightwing stopped running, causing Harley to halt as well. He put his index finger up and pressed his communication device.

Nightwing (angry, but composed): Oracle, explain?

Oracle (over the comms, slightly amused): She begged me, and I can't say no when she pinpoints my mental health issues! Jason is… he hates her way less than he used to.

Nightwing: Okay, why isn't she bothering him?!

Oracle (tentatively): He was the one who suggested that Harley try to get back on good terms with you.

Nightwing (sighing): We never were before this!

Harley (in a cheerful tone, playfully poking Nightwing's arm): There’s always a chance for a fresh start! I really want to be better friends with Jason since we’re teammates now. He put me on probation when he accepted my application for the Outlaws, which wasn’t an easy feat. Thank goodness Batsy let me use him as a reference! But that’s beside the point—I want to make amends and be cool with you! Being teammates works just fine for us. I'm still working with Jason and crossing my fingers that things go well!

Nightwing opened his mouth to speak, then sighed, leaning forward to process what he just heard.

Nightwing: That was a lot of new information to take in, but I'm going to scream at both of them later for that.

Oracle (aggravation in her tone): Nightwing, stop being a baby and let her patrol with you.

Nightwing (defensive): Me not wanting to be with a lunatic who used to not respect my boundaries and slapped my ass isn't me being a baby!

Poison Ivy walked over to the group while listening to music from 'Little Shop of Horrors' on her phone and glancing at her girlfriend, clearly bothering Nightwing.

Ivy (with a knowing smile): After hearing that, I can understand why he doesn't want us near him.

Nightwing (smiling at Ivy): Ivy, I’m actually cool with you. You were usually civil to me, especially when I told you about what happened with my stalker.

Ivy (nodding): I went through the same thing, but to be fair, Harley has as well, so we all have that in common. Although if you run away, I won't stop you.

Harley (whining): Babe!

Oracle (frustrated): Are you seriously going to take her word over mine, the friend you’ve had since—

Nightwing (interrupting): Yes, because you're being biased just because Harley is your friend! Ivy is dating her and can relate to me more than you!

Oracle (in a huff, frustration in her tone): Fine, I give up! Sorry for not telling you though, I mean that.

Nightwing (sincere): And I can forgive you. Now, if you'll excuse me—

In a moment of panic, he ran in the other direction. Oracle shrugged her shoulders and returned to talking to the other Robins on patrol for the night.

Ivy (uninterested, glancing up): I'm proud of him for taking my advice.

Ivy sighed, ignoring her girlfriend glaring at her, but held out her arm in the direction Nightwing ran off.

Ivy: Go ahead.

Harley grinned and nodded before running down the path the avoiding hero escaped to while shouting loud enough to almost wake the neighbors. Ivy resumed her music, casually trailing behind her.

Harley (playfully, shouting): Why are ya runnin'?! I ain't gonna hurt ya! I haven't harmed any of ya since the third kid became Robin!

Nightwing (insistent, exasperated): Doesn’t erase the annoying torture you put me through! I don’t want you touching me! I am not a piece of meat!

Harley (mockingly apologetic): I'm sorry, I wasn't aware ya were uncomfortable with the butt smacks!

Nightwing (defensive): I was very vocal about it!

Harley (teasing): Do you think that stems from some trauma in your past?

Nightwing (frustrated): Stop therapizing me!

Ivy (rolling her eyes with a sarcastic tone): That's the smartest approach, Harley.

Harley (waving her hands dismissively): Ivy, not now!

Ivy placed her hands on her hips with a judgmental smile.

Ivy: I seriously don't want to be the mediator between my girlfriend and the only Robin I like, but you're making that happen!

Nightwing ran behind Ivy and used her as a shield.

Nightwing (smirking): You like me? Aww, thank you.

Ivy (nonchalantly): You were a cute kid and agreed with my ideals, plus you hate the Joker.

Harley bobbed and weaved as Nightwing grabbed Ivy's arms, swaying her back and forth lightly.

Harley: Can't I get a pass for realizing he was a bad guy?!

Nightwing: That's a good first step; still don't like you, though.

Nightwing shoved Ivy towards Harley, causing both women to fall to the ground. Nightwing shrugged apologetically and held up his left leg, running off as if he were the Flash.

Nightwing (over his shoulder with a raised voice): Sorry, Pam!

Ivy (standing up and brushing dirt off her outfit): I'm not even mad about it, kid.

Harley tailed after Nightwing for the third time.

Harley: Ivy, you are being incredibly unhelpful as a freakin' mediator!

Nightwing (frustrated): You chasing me doesn’t make you look better, Harley. Leave me alone!

Harley (pushing Ivy off of her, determined): Let me make amends.

Nightwing (whining): NOOO! Spend time with Jason, that’s fine. I get that, but I already have to deal with the Joker being alive and I don’t want you around me!

Harley (enthusiastic, arms wide): I’m not with him anymore, though! I got a full bill of health at Arkham! I'm goin' to therapy and tryin' to be a travel therapist!

Nightwing kicked up his leg, not to make contact with Harley but to keep a distance.

Nightwing (in angry Romani): Sunt mulțumit de progresul tău, dar stai departe de mine! Nu vreau să fiu în preajma ta, lângă tine sau să mă gândesc la tine!”!

Harley (confused): What?

Ivy (rolling her eyes): He's speaking Romani.

Nightwing (calm but firm): Yes, and I said, "I am happy with your progress, but stay away from me! I don't want to be around you, near you, or think about you!" Please, I’m begging you to do this one good thing—if you have sincerely changed, then just give me space.

Nightwing glanced at the fence of the alleyway he made it to. It was a clear path to get back to his apartment, where he could relax with Kori. But when he turned back to Harley, her usual creepy grin was gone, replaced with a frown while she rubbed her arm full of guilt.

He lowered his leg, cursing his kind heart at the moment. He kept his distance but stood by what he said.

Nightwing: I am glad you're being nice to Jason… and got accepted into his team. Focus on that because whatever partnership you want with me… it will take some time.

Harley took a deep breath and then smiled semi-warmly, with a little Cheshire grin in the mix.

Harley: That's fair. My mind leans to listenin' to my impulsive thoughts, but seein' that I’ve backed you against a literal fence, I can see you do want that space. Just leave before I try to ambush you with a hug or somethin'.

Nightwing tilted his head, suspicious at first. Harley clenched her fist, trying to resist the urge to be spontaneous, but Ivy stepped in, using her vine to wrap it around her girlfriend's hip.

Nightwing half-smiled and then turned, jumping over the fence effortlessly and running off.

Nightwing (over his shoulder): Adios!

Ivy (waving): See ya, kid.

Harley (frustrated): Ivy… Why can't I do this redemption thing right?

Ivy (sincerely): Redemption isn't easy, Harls. Especially since you worked with the Joker for like two decades, and during that he killed one of them and tortures the Batfamily on a random basis. It's going to take time, and honestly, they might never forgive you or fully trust you. You're bettering yourself, though, and I’m… proud of you.

Harley (beaming happily): Really?

Ivy (genuinely): Yeah, I don't get trying to be nice to all of them—that's weird—but hey, you're doing a decent job at it. I wouldn't lie to you.

Harley sighed, resting her head on Ivy's arm.

Harley: I’ll give him space. Want to check out Lex's bar and get some drinks and wings that might make me feel better?

Ivy (shrugging with a smile): Works for me, "traveling therapist."

Ivy laughed dryly at the phrase while rubbing her girlfriend's arm supportively.

Harley (walking side by side with Ivy): Hey, it's goin' to catch on! Thanks for coming, though, Ivy. I love ya.

Ivy (sweetly): I love you too.

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irregularcollapse · 2 days ago

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please read roger federer’s retirement tribute tweet for rafa if you haven’t already, it’s so tender and romantic and I thought about your tennis buckies the entire time 💀😭

thanks to you i read it while on duty at the circ desk and teared up in full view of the library wewwww!!!

the letter:

Vamos, @ RafaelNadal! As you get ready to graduate from tennis, I’ve got a few things to share before I maybe get emotional. Let’s start with the obvious: you beat me—a lot. More than I managed to beat you. You challenged me in ways no one else could. On clay, it felt like I was stepping into your backyard, and you made me work harder than I ever thought I could just to hold my ground. You made me reimagine my game—even going so far as to change the size of my racquet head, hoping for any edge. I’m not a very superstitious person, but you took it to the next level. Your whole process. All those rituals. Assembling your water bottles like toy soldiers in formation, fixing your hair, adjusting your underwear... All of it with the highest intensity. Secretly, I kind of loved the whole thing. Because it was so unique—it was so you. And you know what, Rafa, you made me enjoy the game even more. OK, maybe not at first. After the 2004 Australian Open, I achieved the #1 ranking for the first time. I thought I was on top of the world. And I was—until two months later, when you walked on the court in Miami in your red sleeveless shirt, showing off those biceps, and you beat me convincingly. All that buzz I’d been hearing about you—about this amazing young player from Mallorca, a generational talent, probably going to win a major someday—it wasn’t just hype. We were both at the start of our journey and it’s one we ended up taking together. Twenty years later, Rafa, I have to say: What an incredible run you’ve had. Including 14 French Opens—historic! You made Spain proud... you made the whole tennis world proud. I keep thinking about the memories we’ve shared. Promoting the sport together. Playing that match on half-grass, half-clay. Breaking the all-time attendance record by playing in front of more than 50,000 fans in Cape Town, South Africa. Always cracking each other up. Wearing each other out on the court and then, sometimes, almost literally having to hold each other up during trophy ceremonies. I’m still grateful you invited me to Mallorca to help launch the Rafa Nadal Academy in 2016. Actually, I kind of invited myself. I knew you were too polite to insist on me being there, but I didn’t want to miss it. You have always been a role model for kids around the world, and Mirka and I are so glad that our children have all trained at your academies. They had a blast and learned so much—like thousands of other young players. Although I always worried my kids would come home playing tennis as lefties. And then there was London—the Laver Cup in 2022. My final match. It meant everything to me that you were there by my side—not as my rival but as my doubles partner. Sharing the court with you that night, and sharing those tears, will forever be one of the most special moments of my career. Rafa, I know you’re focused on the last stretch of your epic career. We will talk when it’s done. For now, I just want to congratulate your family and team, who all played a massive role in your success. And I want you to know that your old friend is always cheering for you, and will be cheering just as loud for everything you do next. Rafa that! Best always, your fan, Roger

like holy moly it's just so sweet i'm verklempt

#asks #🎾 fic #'we will talk when it's done' is slaughtering me actually

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tomcat-tapes · 24 days ago

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Middle earth ponies; fellowship is magic

More doodles below💚

(The earth ponies are Thorin and Bilbo adjacent)

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muttsandmustelidae · 5 months ago

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i regret to inform all of my fellow socially awkward kings that Practicing Talking Good actually helps. u have to make small talk at the grocery store sometimes to get better at speaking to people u don’t know very well. it sucks but if u keep trying it will eventually NOT suck and will in fact be fun and nice

#me when the advice is good and actually helps me >:[#jk i’m actually really proud of myself and very thankful for the good advice 😭#i am a lot more confident these days and it’s. really nice.#took a little more practice than most people need but that’s ok #it also helps to like… idk think about people who you like talking to and figure out WHY you like talking to them #and try to incorporate some of that into your own conversation #like one of my best friends always asks a lot of questions when we talk and it makes me feel like she’s actually interested in my life #i’ve always been someone who assumes that people will just tell me exactly what they want me to know and i didn’t want to pry for more #but!!! that’s not always the case!!! so now i try to ask more questions!!! and it makes me look better at conversation!!!#idk idk i just find all of this really interesting and getting better at this kind of thing has made me more excited to get out of the #house and just. do shit. in places where there will be other people. that i might have to talk to #because i can kinda do that now !!!!

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mycological-mariner · 6 months ago

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I really should go back to the short story about the fishwives and bal maidens tbh

#holds a special place in my heart #someone needs to hold me to it #mind you I’ve only got the idea for the story not an actual plot lol #idk! between this and the short about the Duke of Cornwall’s regiment #I have two interesting playing fields in which to uh. okay #at least re: fictitious Cornish history.#god help us if I wrote a short story inspired by ALL my special interests #I did one VERY loosely inspired by Antarctic exploration. didn’t even take place in Antarctica lol #I’m still steadily working on my fungi guide #aaaah I want to talk to someone about the stories I’m writing #I was really proud of my polar-inspired one #:/#it is collecting dust in my desktop folder #I chewing on the walls here #the fishwife story is one that’s been rattling around #but I kinda don’t wanna write it if I don’t get to share it ya know?#im still gonna TRY and work but there’s a lot less motivation #I need to find a new local writers group

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shannaniganss · 4 months ago

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When my sister told me she was going to be in a NYT article I didn’t think it would impact me on tumblr and now I keep seeing critiques of it and I have to grit my teeth and remind myself that they are not coming after my sister but the way the article was written but at the same time!! You better believe that if they didn’t reach out to our parents and allow them to speak on the matter, my mother would have rained hellfire upon that article. And upon me as well for not telling her it was going to happen. I had mental breakdowns leading up to the publication and then I saw the publication and was like. Oh. Yeah. She just lies. And yeah that sucks and is fucking with me right now. But like. I still understand why they asked her for comment. And yeah I would have wanted the article written differently but like. Idk it makes me upset that people seem more upset than I am and my family is actually in the article. And maybe that’s because I feel stuck and I wish I could be like my sister and escape but I am still enmeshed in my parents life bc I am less than an hour away and they still financially help me and it’s like. Am I an ungrateful bitch? Or am I a traitor to my sister? And now every time I see the article on my dash I get dealt psychic damage and have the urge to defend my sister even though no one is attacking her. And so I’m a tangled knot of emotions, emotions I was taught to suppress and bury, and yeah. Idk. I felt the urge to vent.

#like I’m so proud of my sister for talking about it #when all our lives we were told NEVER to talk about family matters #and so this was a huge thing for her #so it’s hard for my silly little brain to see the article not well received #even though that isn’t my sisters fault #also #part of me wanted to reach out to the author after it was published #and be like #yeah my mom lied #two against one bitch #but alas #my mother knows where I live #also cut offs are extremely hard #yeah they abused you but they are still your parents #and part of the issue is that the abuse had moments of calm #moments of kindness #where she would defend us and help us #but she still hurt us #and we don’t want to hurt her #we just want to get better #and I’m trying to get better without having to cut her off #because the possibility that she will kill herself is high if I leave #I just have a lot of feelings #personal

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dancing-with-stars · 9 months ago

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guys. guys !!!!

#vanu is rambling #ok idk this is gonna b a happy post but i think there are lots of people who love me in this world. or at least enjoy my presence.#like i always always always ALWAYS doubt if my friends or family like me and in my head they all secretly hate me #but like for these past couple months things have been different.#i don’t feel so left out (like i usually do in groups) or alone.#like my friends genuinely want me there like they always ask me to go places with them. and i almost always say no because im so busy or #i just cant but they still ask me everytime. yesterday the whole group was calling and playing a game and i got a bunch of texts like hey #where are you u shud join the call it’s rly fun ! but i just couldn’t bring myself to talk to anyone at that moment.#today they were rly happy when i joined the call and idk it made me feel like. oh. maybe my friends do like me #and also i have two moods: i’m either super talkative or i go into my little shell and don’t say anything/add to a convo. and like during #those moments they’ll be like hey u ok? or they’ll just listen to me talk about ceramics and how fun it is or how much i hate eating pears #and like. we laugh so much together. like i have so much fun with all of them i love every single one of them omg #and scary thing is we might not even be friends after we start college. but yk what? that’s okay i don’t wanna think about that.#because like who cares? i’m not gonna let my fears ab the future ruin my friendships. i’ll always love them anyways. and we’ll always call.#i’m glad i met them. they’re all such beautiful and funny and amazing strong willed-people. they are my friends.#it’s just so crazy to me that they willingly want to spend time w me and are sad when i can’t. and they’re so understanding at the same time #they don’t get mad about it. and like they have mad eng last year in high school so much more enjoyable.#someone told me that this is ur last year do things so when you look back you don’t regret anything- so you can be proud of what you did #and my friends helped me with that. and like i still feel lonely the majority of the class because despite this there’s like a permanent #stain of sadness right there at the bottom of my heart. but they make the hard days more manageable.#like i’ve been on call with these people until ungodly hours at night just laughing and i go to sleep feeling a bit lighter.#they introduced me to the tech side of theater which i never thought i’d get into but here i am. they teach me silly facts and words in asl.#they taught me dances- knowing full well i SUCK at it- because we all had fun with it. theyve taught me it’s OKAY to be vulnerable in #friendships and that sometimes being open/yourself is quite literally the best thing you can do for your own soul and others. they’re cool #people really. really cool people

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curiosity-killed · 1 year ago

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This is the last grumbling I’m going to do about my birthday I swear BUT I’m still just mildly flummoxed by my call with my parents last night where like. It’s my birthday. And I have COVID. And they insist on FaceTiming and then just….vent about our extended family and how hard their life is, never once asking a question about *my* life to the point that I finally gave up and while my mom was doing her “and well now what other family news is there…” hmming and hawing, interrupted her to be like “I got offered a trainee position with this dance company” and then they just were like “😶😐 oh. Well. Are you going to take it? You do work full time too and need to have balance in your life…” instead of saying a single positive thing

#after that they did finally ask a LITTLE about my life but like #basically just if I’d been drawing recently 💀#I just would love one (1) person in my family to a) be at all interested in MY life instead of just talking at me all the time #and b) to be like. dude congrats. I know that’s not what you wanted/were hoping for #but it’s still a big achievement and we’re proud of/happy for you #I do not understand why it’s so hard for my family to just like. be normal fucking humans #when someone tells you they were offered a position in a dance company you say congrats 😭😭😭 Jesus Christ #also like I do a lot of shit!! I have so many passions that would be very easy to ask about #even in a super cursory way #like shit dude ask how writings going instead of what weather I’m having #it’s always a safe question #and like then my mom was saying how she felt bad that I had just #ordered delivery cheesecake #because she’d thought about seeing if that was an option #and I was like ??? literally idgaf. when was the last time I actually expected someone else to do something for me for my birthday #or even like #take care of me?#I don’t get sick often but there have been a lot of times where I really could’ve used some fucking help #and just #had to handle it #I have been handling it since I was 12 yr old at most #personal #anyway it was a fine call just like #exacerbated existing frustrations #and I am a little prickly rn about friends and family being. not great.#I don’t need flattery and shit #but I could use like. one person in my corner #that’s not fair I do have a friend who consistently cares about my shit and everything #I just also wish my family ever did that

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regallibellbright · 2 years ago

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God, I hope I manage to get people reading this fic even a HUNDREDTH as invested in this character and the family I completely invented out of whole cloth for him who have been living rent-free in my head for like two years now and steadfastly refused to make a story work until now, because I needed to get a good bit out of my head before I went to sleep, made myself cry because I cry ABSURDLY easily, and now it’s like four hours later and I need to actually get to FUCKING BED ALREADY but words keep coming, my fic is too sad, and I use a CPAP that already finds my face shape tricky and don’t want to combine that with my messy crying.

I’m just saying, it’s not fair I inflict this on myself while WRITING it. Rereading it later, sure, I’m fine with that, but writing it? What am I doing, using these characters as an outlet for emotional catharsis? Gross. Inefficient. I can’t keep writing when I need to routinely stop and wipe my eyes.

#writing with regalli #wips #I haven’t even gotten to the part that’s making me sad just to think about #no but seriously this is an actual problem for me that has happened more than once #if it works even a fraction as much as I’m hoping it will it’ll be SO GOOD and I will be SO PROUD OF THIS #but see I’m already invested and other people are not because you know. OCs.#I am deeply and profoundly attached to these OCs who have literally no implication in canon #seriously even the canon character in question is just a step or two removed from blank slate #and by this point I could write an entire fucking NOVEL in which there are maybe a couple hints of a second canon character offecreen #and then it ends with him meeting a third.#if someone talks shit about AUs not potentially engaging with the themes of the source material I fucking might.#like a really good AU that tries is DEEPLY concerned with where characters change and where they stay the same when this changes #and this particular threat of spite would be very much invested in the setting and deal with themes #but while looking at a spot that’s particularly thin in a movie that is admittedly more Vibes than plot and going ‘It’s free real estate’.#I can’t do AUs like that I struggle with differentiating character voice enough. but you know what I can do?#THIS BULLSHIT. and I am genuinely proud I can.#but it does bring a lot of anxiety when the emotional core is around characters who /I/ care deeply about #but who no one else has ever heard of because they are mine #god though THIS is the first idea I wanted to do this holiday prompt challenge for and it is WORKING for me.#the others have been aggressively Not at times and another one will be the full climax but this one actually fully fits the prompt #without the association that already existed in MY mind but which I will have to sell to not feel totally shoehorned for readers #which is admittedly a big ask under the circumstances #because the association would not be obvious if you DIDN’T know I had in fact had this idea for ages #and why would you? I have not brought it up before

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hey-op-just-kill-me · 2 years ago

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#hi I’m going to complain for a quick second #so my parents have not contributed a fucking cent to my higher edumacation besides maybe three train tickets #I have paid two semesters so far by my self and with my grandmother giving me some money to help for transportation but that’s legit it #like my parents haven’t financially helped me at all okay #so my dad was going to do taxes today and he told me to print out the college tax thing and I got angry at him #because fuck you use me as a discount when you start to actually help me out at all #so we’re yelling at each other and he’s like oh isn’t there a parent account I can log into and I explain that no it’s fucking college #you do not have a day at all #he does not like this because he really likes being in control of shit #but it’s funny because for the first 16 years of my life he couldn’t give a shit less about my education last two years of HS he tries #to give unhelpful advice that just led to more stress (as in I got a 90 on a test and he’d ask why it wasn’t 100)#so we’re yelling at each other and my sister says to just ignore it because someone might aswell clame it for taxes instead of the state #and yeah sure fine but at least provide some support for me. or fucking tell me you’re proud of me that’s it that’s all I want #the only thing he has given me for school was a fucking BC tee shirt off of Amazon… that’s it #so now we are just fucking avoiding each other and it’s fucking awkward but my mom is treating it like I’m the bad guy here because #I’m angry they told me I had to go to college and now they won’t help me #like I understand that a lot of people don’t have their parents support to pay for college and they do drive me to the train station but #it’s just rude. and I can’t even talk to him about it because oh no big man feelings get hurt when $ is a topic but like grow the fuck up

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mostly-imagines · 8 months ago

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Banished

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason misses his girlfriend

warnings: extremely mild angst, he’s just mopey (he’s fine)

Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.

Dick’s been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes and Tim sits atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.

Damian trudges past them to the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.

He glances at Jason with a scowl. “If you’re going to be so miserable, can’t you do it in your own home?”

Jason just grunts.

He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.

It’s not even the fact that he’s basically being babysat that’s got him so disgruntled. He wouldn’t mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so you’d stay behind. A lose-lose for Jason.

“He’s just mad his girlfriend kicked him out,” Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.

Tim snorts from the doorway, “Me too. He’s a lot more depressing on his own.”

Jason kept his head down as he blindly reached for the spoon in his cereal and chucked it at Tim’s head.

Tim catches it without thought, continuing, “A lot more irritable, at least. Why isn’t she here?”

“She’s gotta work,” Dick says, scanning through the pantry.

Damian peeps his head up from his project. “But Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?”

“Yeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think,” Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.

Damian pauses.

“So she wants to live in a tiny apartment?” He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.

“Watch your mouth,” Jason mumbles.

“It was a genuine question!” Damian protests, face screwed up.

Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. “And I’m genuinely going to break your nose.”

It’s an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.

Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. “You know, it is just a few days. She’s coming back.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Jason was never one for showing his feelings—let alone talking about them.

He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.

Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.

He’ll admit (to himself) that he’s worried about Jason. It’s been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while it’s not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasn’t countered his brother’s jabs at him or teased them.

And while he could do without the blatant threats, he’s proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. It’s one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.

And now here’s his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone who’s a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldn’t do anything to help.

Bruce knew you didn’t feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldn’t help him, even now.

But you could.

Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.

He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.

He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.

And he watches Jason.

As Jason’s phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.

He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.

He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types again—smile on his face.

The Waynes didn’t need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.

✨ reblog fics or face the block button ✨

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