#fuck me I haven’t got a clue . Jesus

[yellobb]

I’m literally going to puke

[feyburner]

I loved LOVED a word, a look, will be enough. I’m obsessed with the way you write jason and tim. No pressure to answer this at all, but I was curious if you have a headcanon about how the missing spleen reveal eventually goes

Jay »

Good afternoon Timothy.

« tim

uh oh

Jay »

I just had a fascinating conversation with Doc thompson

Care to hazard a guess about what?

« tim

pollen season

Jay »

No.

« tim

bird flu

Jay »

Is there a reason you havent told anyone in your life that you dont have a fucking spleen?

« tim

okay first of all

i’m not sure why doc thompson felt the need to tell you my private medical information

pretty sure they have a rule about that

Jay »

It’s not her fault.

I mentioned that you got whammied with that stupid germ bomb from Typhoid Tony or whatever the fuck his name was

« tim

vik vyral

Jay »

And she got all serious and told me I should get you into the clinic asap, and I was like no he’s fine now, it was basically a 24 hour bug, and she was like no, theres no such thing as a 24 hour bug for him, he needs to come get his blood tested yesterday

And then she clearly realized I had no fucking clue what she was talking about and clammed up. Wouldn’t say a thing. Told me to ask you myself.

Jay »

The look she gave me when I said you slept it off and went back to work. Like I should know better. like I was letting you be careless and shit bc thats just how I am or something.

« tim

“letting” me?

Jay »

yeah. Letting you. I know you know what I mean

« tim

i’m not sure i do.

Jay »

When youre with someone you take care of them.

I dont pretend to know much about this shit but I know that.

I’m not talking about handcuffing you to the radiator. Im talking about knowing whats going on with you and knowing that sometimes you let shit slide that I wouldn’t. When it comes to you

You do that for me and the others all the time. Thats how it works.

« tim

doc thompson doesn’t know you’re “with” me

Jay »

If you think everyone doesn’t know exactly what’s going on then your detective skills need work

Jay »

Also, Jesus, Tim.

« tim

ok sorry, i didn’t mean the scare quotes part

but did you pause to consider maybe there’s a reason i haven’t told everyone other than whatever shortsighted masochistic bs you’re assuming

Jay »

I dont need you to tell everyone. I’m not asking you to write a report on it.

Just like. if there’s any other major medical shit can you maybe tell me

Before you fucking die of a sinus infection or whatever bc the asshole who lives with you didn’t know your immune system has the horsepower of a bicycle

« tim

did you know you curse more when you’re fronting like you’re not worried about me

Jay »

I’m actually not fronting! in this moment!

« tim

okay

well. i am sorry

that sounded sarcastic bc of who i am as a person

but it’s not. i mean it.

Jay »

Sorry for yelling at you

« tim

i dont wanna go into it over text but i’ll tell you tonight. okay?

about what happened.

also there’s nothing else. it’s just the spleen thing

ok?

Jay »

Okay.

« tim

well and the mango allergy

well. and i’m double jointed specifically bc i have joint-hypermobility syndrome

which is why im so flexible :)

but also why i dislocate things a lot :(

um and im mildly allergic to carrots, bananas, pineapples, and most legumes, but it’s fine they just make my tongue itch

i think that’s all

Jay »

Tim can you be honest with me for a second

« tim

yeah…

Jay »

Are you inbred

« tim

NSJDN/&2&jdj?!_£_??

Jay »

Like are you that type of rich person

You can tell me. We are not going to procreate so I dont mind either way

« tim

just scared the living shit out of an intern who had never seen me laugh before. i think she thought i was choking

jesus CHRIST

i will see you at home.

Jay »

You

didn’t answer the question….

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part six)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)

Steve allows himself a brief mental breakdown in the shower when he gets home. He lets the water mix with his tears as he curls his arms around himself and wishes with everything he is that they were Eddie’s. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give right now just to be held by him again, just to feel Eddie’s arms around him one more time. All it took was a tiny kiss on the back of his hand for Steve’s skin to remember just how much it missed that feeling. Now Steve’s entire body craves Eddie’s touch, and he shakes in its absence like an addict in withdrawal. 

Then he puts himself back together, gets dressed and styles his hair and heads off to work. 

They’d defeated Vecna before he could split the world into pieces or whatever his diabolical plan had been. So while Steve’s whole world may have been torn apart, while Steve’s whole world lays bruised and bandaged and amnesic in a hospital bed, the rest of the world carries on none the wiser. The rest of the world still rents VHS tapes and has movie nights and date nights and no fucking clue that they were seconds away from being dragged down into a hell dimension a couple weeks ago, so Family Video is still open for them. Fuck that. 

“You’ve gotta handle the customers today because if someone starts asking me stupid questions I can’t promise I won’t snap at them,” Steve tells Robin as he drives them to their shift. 

“Aw, but it’s so funny when you snap at them,” Robin quips. 

“Robin.” He gives her his best I’m so fucking serious look. 

Her humor dries up immediately and she nods solemnly. “Alright, yeah. I got it.” 

Steve sighs, pulling into the parking lot. “Thank you.” 

He busies himself with cataloging and reshelving and rewinding returns while Robin takes over the customer service part of the job. It’s mindless - mind-numbing - the monotony of the tasks exactly what Steve needs to dull out the thoughts in his brain and distract himself from the way the back of his hand still tingles from Eddie’s kiss. 

When the afternoon rush dies down after a few hours and the store is all but empty, Robin sidles up next to him where he’s putting away a stack of fantasy films. “Hey.” 

Her voice cuts through his focus and nearly startles Steve out of his skin. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” 

“Sorry.” She grabs half the stack of tapes and starts helping him shelve. “Just wanted to check in with you, we haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk today. How are things going with Eddie?” 

“It’s fine. He’s fine,” Steve grumbles, glaring down at the tape in his hands. It’s got a dragon on the cover. He thinks Eddie would probably like it. “He still doesn’t remember me, but he’s starting to see me as a friend now at least, so.” Steve shoves the movie into its spot on the shelf. “That’s something, right?” 

Robin raises her eyebrows at the sharp bitterness in his tone and how forcefully he put the tape away. “Okay. Yeah. So I see we’re in the anger stage of grief now,” she comments. 

Steve scoffs. If this is a stage of grief, he thinks he’s been going through them in the wrong order, or maybe all at once - a neverending ebb and flow of denial and anger and depression all swirled together into one fucked up cocktail of grief. “I’m not angry,” he says, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m just tired- emotionally burnt out, I don’t know. I just miss him and it’s not fair and I’m so fucking sick of feeling like this.” 

“Yeah, that’s anger, Steve,” Robin says, infuriatingly blunt. She slides the last tape in her stack into its place and then leans against the shelf. “Did something else happen to set this off, or are you just generally overwhelmed?” 

Steve sags against the shelf beside her. “Both. I don’t know. It’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid. He just- he kissed my hand this morning, that’s it, and it wrecked me.” 

“He what?” Robin questions, curiosity widening her eyes. 

“He kissed my hand,” Steve repeats. He sighs and adds context, gives her a full recount of the events of that morning.

“Oh my god?!” Robin practically squawks as she backhands Steve’s arm, which is definitely not the comforting words or touch he needs from her right now. 

“Ow!” he yelps, rubbing his arm. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Dude. He was flirting with you,” she tells him, eyes even wider now like she’s trying to explain to him something obvious. 

“What? No.” Steve shakes his head, looking at her like she’s crazy. “He definitely wasn’t.” 

“Ughhh,” Robin lets out a long, dramatic groan, dragging her hands down her cheeks and pulling down her eyes. “I cannot do this with you two again. He totally was.” She drops her hands from her face so she can use them to illustrate her point as she starts to lists off, “First of all, he literally called you daddy-” 

“As a joke,” Steve interrupts to protest. 

“Yeah, a flirtatious one,” Robin retorts. She continues, “Then he said you have a magic touch, and then his heart literally started racing for no reason-”

“Because I was stressing him out!” 

“Only after his heart rate went up in the first place, which, as I was saying, was for no reason other than the fact that you were smiling at him and holding his hand-” 

“That literally doesn’t-” 

“And then, he kissed your hand - pressed his lips to your skin - and told you that you were his good luck charm,” Robin finishes, looking smug like she’s said something novel and not just completely reiterated exactly what Steve had just told her only with more emphasis. 

He sighs wearily. “Your point?” 

“He likes you, dingus,” she says, whacking his arm again. “Don’t you get it? His mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.”

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. A lump rises in his throat, a rush of jumbled emotions chafing against his already frayed edges. “Don’t say that. You don’t know that.”

“I think you should tell him what you were to each other,” Robin suggests. 

“Right, yeah, okay, sure,” Steve scoffs, somewhere between sarcastic and hysterical. “And while we’re at it, I think you should tell Vickie that you like her. Because telling people things like that is so easy, isn’t it?” 

Robin gives him a withering stare. “That is not the same thing at all, and you know it.”

“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees. “Because I know Eddie, and he would not take that news well. He already gets a little weird whenever I seem to know too much about him - if I tell him I know him biblically too-” 

“Ew, don’t tell him like that!” 

“Doesn’t matter if I tell him like that; I say we’ve been together for 9 months, he’s going to assume we’ve-” 

“God, okay, I get it!”

“See? It would freak him out,” Steve concludes, crossing his arms. “Even if he does…like me again or whatever, he definitely wouldn’t anymore and it would just generally make him uncomfortable. So I can’t tell him. I just have to keep waiting for him to remember on his own, even though it’s fucking killing me,” he says, his voice harsh as he tries to keep it from breaking. “It’s what’s best for Eddie.” 

“Steve-” Robin starts, frowning like she’s only just beginning to realize she may have pushed him too far, but whatever it is she was going to say is cut off by the ringing of the bell that announces the front door being open. 

“Customers.” Steve points his chin towards the couple who just walked in, a bitter jealousy boiling in his stomach as he watches them walk hand in hand towards the romance aisle. It’s not fucking fair. He shoves himself away from the shelves and mutters, “I’m taking my break.”

He stalks to the breakroom, closes the door, and sinks to the floor with his back against it. The tears in his eyes feel like they’re made of acid, like they would carve tracks into his skin if they were to spill down his cheeks. He wraps his arms around himself again. The thoughts in his head are made of acid too, bitter and burning and cursing everyone who gets to enjoy their lover's touch while he suffers without his. 

Steve’s brain feels corroded, corrupted. “He likes you,” Robin’s words echo there too, “his mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.” Would Eddie touch him now if he asked? Would he trace his fingers across Steve’s skin, kiss more than just the back of his hand? Steve digs his own fingers into his sides. He feels gross, he feels rotten. It wouldn’t be right to ask that of Eddie without him knowing the truth, to take advantage of him like that. It wouldn’t be the same, anyways. The superficial touch of a boy with the beginnings of a crush is not the tender lover’s caress that Steve craves. 

That is if Robin is even right about Eddie redeveloping feelings. Which she probably isn’t.

Steve’s just being stupid and selfish again. He wants to remove his brain from his skull so he can stop thinking, tear his heart from his chest so he can stop feeling; both so burned and decayed he thinks if he held them in his hands they would dissolve and crumble to dust and ash and sludge between his fingers. 

Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve forces himself to be fine. He peels himself off the breakroom floor and returns to work, continues the tedious tasks that he hopes will numb him out again. 

Robin catches his eye from across the room where she’s sorting a customer’s cash at the register. I’m sorry, her expression says, I didn’t mean to make you upset. 

Steve gives a tiny shake of his head and a small smile. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault, his own expression reassures her. You meant well. I’m not mad at you. 

They don’t talk about Eddie again that day. The next time there’s a lull in customers and they’re able to chat again, Steve tells Robin he honestly just needs a distraction right now, and he lets her ramble on about Vickie and band and school and her impending graduation and the movie she watched last night and whatever other random thoughts are bouncing around that hyperactive head of hers. Her voice fills in the cracks in Steve’s brain, keeps it from falling apart completely. She’s always been good at that, and he’s grateful for it. 

Then he drops Robin off after work and he drives away alone in silence because all the songs on the radio are love songs, and he drives back to the hospital - back to the source of his grief again and again like some sort of fucking masochist - because Eddie needs him. Because Steve loves him.

~

Eddie cannot help the way his face all but beams the second Steve walks back into his room that evening. “There you are, Stevie! How was work?”

Steve returns the smile, genuine, but there’s a tiredness to it. “It was alright. Bit boring, really, uneventful. How are you doing?” 

“I’m good,” Eddie says, adding with a jaunty grin, “All the better now that you’re back.” 

It comes out a bit more flirtatious than he intended, but thankfully Steve just laughs it off. “Alright, smoothtalker,” he scoffs through a chuckle as he takes his usual seat by the bed. “It’s nice to see you again too.”

“Oh, the actual doctor came in to talk to me today. Good news, don’t worry,” Eddie tells him, the last bit tacked on quickly before that concerned crease can appear between Steve’s brows. “She says I’m healing up nicely, and I might be able to be discharged soon. A few more days’ observation and then they're gonna see how well I can actually move since, you know, the bats chewed through half the muscles in one of my legs. But, yeah, I could be out of here by the end of next week.” 

“That’s great, Eddie!” Steve brightens. 

“Yeah.” Eddie smiles. “I can’t wait to be somewhere familiar, feel normal again. Or, well,” he amends, smile falling a little as he realizes, “as normal as I can feel given that I’ll probably be walking with a limp for the rest of my life and be covered in nasty scars all over.” 

A strange expression crosses Steve’s face then, something happy and sad and sympathetic all at once, and his voice is soft as he says, “We’ll match.” 

Eddie blinks at him. “What?”

“The scars,” Steve clarifies. “The bats got me too, you know. I was lucky, it wasn’t as bad for me as it was for you, but, uh- yeah, we’ll match. See?” He stands and pulls his shirt up a bit. 

Eddie’s heart rate immediately kicks up again, blood growing warm, as his eyes snap to Steve’s stomach, to skin and muscle and body hair and- oh. Two giant, jagged red scabs cover Steve’s sides, the edges fading into skin bumpy and pink and white with the beginnings of scarring. The bite on Eddie’s own side twinges in sympathy. “That’s-” He swallows back the word hot, and breathes out instead, “Holy shit.” Without really thinking, he finds himself reaching out to skim his fingers over the ridges of Steve’s scars. 

Steve gasps - full body shudders - at the touch, and Eddie instantly pulls his hand back, afraid he’s hurt him. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“No, it’s fine,” Steve manages, though it sounds a bit shaky. “You didn’t hurt me, I just- I wasn’t expecting it.” 

Eddie tentatively starts to reach back out; Steve nods. He slowly traces the outline of the wound again, every uneven edge, feeling the evidence of hurt and the evidence of healing and the ripple of each breath Steve takes - breaths that echo in the quiet that falls between them. Eddie doesn’t realize just how intimate this silence has become as he runs his hands across Steve’s skin, until he glances up to find Steve just…watching him. It’s impossible to tell exactly what emotion is behind his eyes, but it’s intense and it’s devastating, and Eddie suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. 

“Uh-” A nervous laugh stutters out of him. He rescinds his touch. “Twin scars, huh?” he remarks, cracking a crooked smile and attempting to change this strange, suffocating energy with a joke. “Hell of a matching tattoo. Next time let’s just exchange friendship bracelets like normal people do, yeah?”

Steve huffs, a short burst of laughter that escapes from his chest like it’s been punched out of him. “Since when have you ever done anything like a normal person?” he teases in return as he pulls his shirt back down.

Just like that, blown away by Steve’s playful smile, the weird tension lifts. Eddie grins back. “Alright, fair point.” He adds, “Those are gonna be some pretty metal scars, Stevie.”

“Not as metal as yours,” Steve says warmly, settling back in his chair and kicking one leg over the other. “You’re the one that literally survived death, Ed. It doesn’t get any more metal than that.” 

“Now who’s the smoothtalker?” Eddie smirks, and he hopes he isn’t blushing. Steve Harrington calling him metal with so much pride and affection in his voice is doing numbers on his heart. Curse this stupid fucking crush.

Steve eyes divert briefly to the heart monitor, which has not once calmed down since the second he’d lifted up his shirt, and Eddie is so sure that he knows then, that he’s finally made the connection between what’s got Eddie’s heart racing, but he doesn’t say anything, just laughs it off again, smiling like everything’s completely normal as he looks back at Eddie and rolls his eyes and mutters in return, “Shut up.” 

“Make me,” Eddie mumbles, not quick enough to bite back the words before they fall from his mouth, only managing to lower his voice enough that maybe Steve didn’t hear him. 

“What?” 

“TV?” Eddie grabs the remote, pretends like that’s what he’d said in the first place. Real smooth. 

“Oh, sure.” Steve shrugs. If he noticed Eddie’s slip, he gives no indication of it. 

Eddie turns on the TV and they spend the next hour or so laughing and making fun of the bad acting on the show that’s playing. Easy, normal, platonic. Eddie’s heart rate stabilizes, remaining even so long as he doesn’t look too long at Steve’s smile. 

When sleep starts lapping at Eddie’s consciousness, he doesn’t fear it anymore. Silently, he holds out his hand, and Steve takes it, wrapping him in the warmth and protection that allows Eddie to let himself drift off undaunted. 

And in his dreams his hands skate across Steve’s skin again.

(part seven)

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[ayedafuq]

Hamzah imagine I’m sorry god

POV: You got invited up to Toronto by your friend (Y/F) who hangs in the same circle as the Slushy Noobz crew, u n Hamzah meet at a party, get a little too tipsy, and you flirt just a taaaad .

——

(Y/F) : bitch come out the room and DRINK

Currently hiding away in her room (where I’ve been a freeloader for the past 2 days), I see Y/F’s text to come and join the pregame she’s having in her living room. She moved from our hometown to Toronto, a place I haven’t been before this, and I’m visiting her for the week. I came up on Wednesday and after our playful time catching up together for the past two days, she decided it’d be a good idea to go out with some of the friends she made. She currently has about 8 people in her living room playing drinking games, and I’m sitting on the floor staring into her full body mirror, ready to go to the bar, nervous as FUCK about meeting her friends.

After ignoring her text for approximately 30 seconds, she comes into the room. “OOOO GURRRRL YOU LOOKIN GOOOOOD” she says. I know she knows I’m nervous.

“Wait close the door” I say to her, and she does. “Dude, what if they don’t like me.” My anxiety is clearly getting the best of me.

“Fuck do you mean what if they don’t like you? You’re quite literally my twin. If they don’t like you then I’ll KNOW they secretly don’t like me. And they love me, so chill the fuck out. Get up” she picks me up out off the ground and pulls me out into her living room.

“Guess who’s heeeerrrree” she says to the group, and they all start to cheer. “There she is!” One of the girls says. A guy chimes in, “The visitor has arrived!”

Y/f drags me around the party to share names, my nerves subsiding. Everyone here is really nice. Why was I even worried?

“Hey, I’m Mandy. I work at the animal shelter with y/f. I’ve heard so much about you!” The girl says. I reply telling her I’ve heard about her too. “Y/f says the only reason she goes there is to pet animals and hang out with you” I tell her. “Yea sounds about right, I do the same thing.”

Me, Mandy and Y/f chat for a couple minutes sharing some laughs and stories, until the guy who chanted earlier and his friend come up. “Y/n, this is my boyfriend Martin. And this is Hamzah, avoid him.”

I give my hellos and introduce myself to Martin. We banter for a quick second before I turn to Hamzah. “Hellooo, I’m Y/n.” I give him a quick smile he returns. “Hey Y/n, how do you like Toronto so far?”

Before I can even answer, Y/f interrupts. “I’m gonna need you guys to shut up and grab a drink. We’re leaving for the bar in 30, and me and Y/n still need to demolish half the party in flip cup. Grab two seltzers from the fridge” she tells me. “You better lock in, I told everyone you never miss a flip.”

—

Two hours later and we’re at the bar, and it’s safe to say I’m feeling preeeetty nice. Her friends are so sweet, and I can’t help but feel so happy that she found these people.

Mandy, y/f, Hamzah and I are standing by a high top table, and I take the liberty in sharing some stories of me and y/f from parties in high school.

“When I tell you I turned my head for 3 seconds and y/f was gone, I mean it. I’m running through the party like a chicken without a fucking head, looking like a maniac asking everyone where she is. Mind you, I’m like 17 and hammered, so I was probably acting like the hulk.”

“Jesus Christ y/n don’t..” she says.

“After 10 minutes where do I find this bitch? Asleep in this random bitch’s closet with her head, quite literally, in a bucket.”

Hamzah and Mandy are cracking up. “You didn’t even know who threw the party?” Hamzah asks between laughs.

“Not a fucking clue. Y/f felt right at home though” I say, giggling myself.

“Girl I hate you, but yea I did. That bucket was my crib. Need to go to the bathroom?” Y/f asks me.

I tell her I’m alright for now, and Mandy tells her she needs to go so they scurry off together.

“Wow, so you guys have been friends for a while huh?” Hamzah says, still smiling from the story.

“Yea, we’ve been through a lot together. She’ll never get rid of me I fear” I say back.

“Damn, that’s awesome. Y/f is super cool, I’m happy she moved up here. When’s it your turn?” He says, his smile becoming more of a smirk. It hasn’t gone over my head that this kid is fucking adorable, but hes been acting pretty shy all night. The sly comment took me by surprise.

“Man I wish I could. It’s been on my mind a lot since she moved here” I reply.

“What’s stopping you?” He asks.

“I guess I’m just scared. It’s a big move, and she’s got the balls to do it. I’m not sure I do.”

“I felt the same way too, I pretty much hauled ass across the country of Canada at 18. I lived out of my car for a bit actually, it was a nightmare. I’d do it all again though, it was the best decision I’ve made. If I could do it, a pretty girl like you could too.”

Pretty girl?

“Pretty girl?” I say back, a little smug. The drinks are getting to me I fear.

“I’m sorry, was that weird?” He gets a little shy again. I giggle to let him know it wasn’t.

“Not at all. Thank you, pretty boy” I playfully shove his arm. I cringe in my head. I gotta be fucking kidding.

“Pretty boyyy I see I see” he says with a smile. “You think I’m a pretty boy?”

“Only a little bit. Like, this much” I pinch my fingers together the closest I can without having them touch.

“Well, thiiiis pretty boy” he mimics my fingers, “thinks you should move to Toronto thiiiis much” he separates them a little more. “Because he’d like to see you more thiiiiis badly” he separates them as far as he can. Damn, he has nice hands.

“Wow that’s pretty badly” I respond. Thank god I have makeup on because this cheesy shit might be making me blush.

“Yea, it’s alarming. Think about it, pretty girl” he tilts his head towards me playfully as he says pretty girl, getting a little close and then backing his head away swiftly. His smirk is fully activated and the eye contact we’re making is pretty hot. I smile back at him with my tongue touching my canine (do yk what I’m talking about like that lil sexy smile), tilting my head slightly to the side as if to say oh, ur flirting with me, noted. and just as I’m about to respond, y/f and Mandy return from the bathroom.

“Stop harassing her Hamzah she’s never gonna want to come back” Mandy says. “Come on, we’re gonna go back to y/f’s and play drinking games. This bar is boring.”

Hamzah follows after Mandy, glancing back at me quickly with a cheeky smile before turning his head. Y/f gets in my ear.

“Hamzah likes you. Mandy can tell. She told me in the bathroom.”

—-

Okay guys hi this is like so bullshit but I was feeling playful idk I hope you enjoyed if you made it this far

-ayev

[infi8ity]

∞

HE WAS AN INEBRIATED HOPELESS MESS.

you could tell as much from the phone call. barely could you make out a sentence through his slurred words and the loud music, but you had picked up on several, i miss you’s and you were my everything’s. 

a small part of you wanted to hang up on him and go back to sleep-- if one could call being wide awake, tossing and turning-- but you were still friends. good friends. it had been a few months but a three year relationship ended through mutual decision didn’t erase a decade’s long friendship. 

and even if the breakup had been messy, you knew that he’d come to you in a heartbeat. 

you found him perched against the wall of the bar, lost in a drunken thought when you drove up. perhaps the thought somewhere along the lines of, why the fuck did i ask my ex to come pick my drunk ass up at 3 in the morning?, was running through his head. because the exact opposite thought was sure running through yours. 

you park the car across the street and can’t help the loud sigh that escapes you. a million different scenarios of how the rest of your night could go, plays through your head and each of them ends with even more heartache on your behalf.

you rest your head against the steering wheel, and mutter to yourself, “grow a pair y/n.” 

exiting the car, you shiver and pull your coat tighter around you, the chilling night’s wind a harsh reminder that he was standing outside shaking like a leaf from his lack of a jacket. it was the middle of winter. how messed up did he get?

you coolly make your way towards him. in utter awe at the sight of you, he leans his head against the brick wall, grinning lazily. that goddamn smile. the lamppost behind you illuminates his features. allowing you to give in to the temptations and admire him once more. his cheeks are dusted pink and his lips are slightly chapped from the cold. his eyes are glossed over and his pupils dilated. 

“hi beautiful,” he says. his voice raspy and hoarse. 

you could say the same to him. but you only narrow your eyes. a silent warning. you knew his tricks and games. “don’t hi beautiful me. It's three in the morning. i have to get up for work in a few hours. you know this.”

he sighs regretfully and slides against the wall to the snow littered concrete. “i do, i know. i’m sorry y/n.” he replies, his head in his hands. 

“and it’s freezing out. where’s your jacket?” 

no response. you lightly toe his shoe with your boot. 

“hey. where’s your jacket? and where are your keys?” 

he looks up at you beneath his lashes and huffs a laugh, void of any humor. “i’ve got no fucking clue y/n. not the slightest. i don’t even know what i’m doing here. i don’t even know why i wasted your time calling you here.” 

“are you okay?” you inquire, voice laced with concern. 

“are you? we haven’t spoken in a while. and i miss you.”

“so you’ve said.” he quirks an eyebrow. “over the phone. among other things.”

“oh,” he groans melodramatically. “how bad?”

“terrible. pretty sure you said something about me having a killer body-,”

“jackass.” 

you shrug and lean against the wall next to him. “hey, you know you can talk to me if something’s going on.”

he nods, acknowledging you. “i know. i know.” he stands, albeit disjointedly and stepping on your toe in the process. “i’m sorry for waking you. i’ll just walk home.” he says to no one in particular, making his way across the street. 

you smack your teeth and reach out for his arm. stubbornly, he pulls against you and you latch on to his fingers, holding tightly. “jesus you’re freezing,” you whisper, your breath forming in the air. “and you’re going the wrong way genius. you live the other way. you’re so fucked up right now you can’t even tell. i don’t want to argue with you. just get in the car.”

he doesn’t bother to reply, he simply opts to stare into your eyes. searching. hoping. and for a second you forget its cold as hell. for a second, you forget that he’s no longer yours. you feel his thumb brush against the back of your hand and you flinch. there it is. that trap. 

you snatch your hand back. nope.

“y/n...” he groans strangely.

“don’t say another word. just get in the-,”

and the motherfucker retches into the snow and on to your boots. 

∞

the car ride to your apartment was silent. thank god. mostly because he’d fallen asleep sometime during the fifteen minute drive. but still, thank everything holy. the silence gave you time to think about whatever the fuck that was and confront the horrifying fact that he still had a choke hold on you. 

you shudder at the thought, all the way from the car to your front door. the shudder stays even as you slip out of your boots marked with bodily fluid and into your house slippers. you toss his dead weight to the sofa collapsing to the floor, breathless, you nearly fall with him. 

you fix a glass of iced water and grab two pain killers and a stomach soothing pill from the kitchen. when you make your way back to the living room, he’s moved from the sofa to the rug. you kick at his unconscious form, startling him

“sorry. take this. wash it down and drink all of it.” you hand him the pills and water, standing directly over him to watch him carefully as he follows your directions. “i’m going to run the shower for you. okay?”

he mutters something incoherent, pulling a pillow from the sofa and flopping on his side comfortably. 

“and take your goddamn shoes off in my house,” you call over your shoulder. “caveman.”

he grunts a caveman-like response.

you snort and shuffle to your bedroom to rummage through the drawers for some of his clothes that you never thought to return. strangely enough most of his shirts and joggers sat in your laundry basket... as if ... a certain someone had been wearing them to bed or late night trips to the store...

the steam from the hot shower engulfs the room whilst you lay out clothing, body wash, an unopened toothbrush, mouthwash, and-- towels. shoot. you open the closet and fish for towels when he stumbles in. 

“oh hey, i was just about to come get you and ohmygodwhatareyoudoing?”

you lift the towels to your eyes to obstruct the view of him pulling his pants down to take a piss. he’s so fucking out of it. you’re sure he hasn’t even noticed your presence. 

“jesus!”

you hurriedly rush out of the bathroom, throwing the towels behind you and running to your room which happened to be void of half naked exes. it was going to be a long night. 

an hour later, you’d nearly drifted back off into sleep when there’s a knock at your door. 

“come in.” you croak, switching on your bedside lamp.

he opens the door, peaking in, fully dressed, hair damp. “you don’t happen to have a blanket or something do you? i was half tempted to use your rug for warmth.” 

you press your palm to your head and curse. “no, i’m sorry, a friend stole my only one because she liked the designs.”

“oh,”

“yeah.”

“that’s fine. goodnight y/n. thank you anyways.” he starts to close the door.

“wait,” you’re going to regret this so much. “honestly you’re plenty familiar with this bed.” he clears his throat at the sudden rush of memories. “just sleep in here. i can make a pillow wall or something.”

the room stands so still and silent it almost makes you want to scream. was that weird to offer? did you overstep? 

“are you sure?” he asks, slowly making his way in. 

no! “yeah, pfft i don’t care.”

“cause i was fine with using your dish towel. really.” you giggle at the smart remark.

a familiar sensation one could only describe as nostalgia fills you when you feel the bed dip in as he crawls in beside you. you’d lived through this night routine countless times. some part of you half hoped that he’d lean over to give you a goodnight’s kiss and tell you he loved you. like he used to. like he did hundreds of times before.

but he doesn’t. 

he simply places a pillow in between you two and you turn out the light. you both had more to say to each other. but in your hearts they were best left as words unspoken.

“goodnight y/n.” i still love you.

“goodnight.” i still love you too.

∞

© infi8ity. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[rinstrumental]

lookin’ at you got me thinkin’ nonsense…

ellie williams / 1,261 words

# college au yay, making out (but no smut lol), why is this still so h*rny im sorry, not proofread, you guys are both DOWN BAD

It’s a hot summer night, which means another party. The sun is in the middle of its descent, and you’re here with Dina in the backyard, the both of you clutching to each other to avoid getting broken up too soon. Mosquitoes weave in between the crowd, and it reeks of weed and pool water and sweat. Generally not a great scene, but you’re here anyways.

“Fuck, I really don’t want to be holding on to you right now,’ Dina groans, loosening her grip on your arm slightly. “Do you see her yet?”

“I can’t… find her. Sorry, just stick with me for another minute, help me look for Ellie.”

“I could tell you that girl was waiting for you in hell and you would dig there to see her.”

She’s not wrong. You think that this might just be the equivalent of hell itself. She’s also not wrong about your determination to see Ellie Williams.

Ever since the both of you met and hooked up at the beginning of the semester, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. You jumped at every chance to see her, made every excuse. Clearly the same could be said with her - Ellie had skipped class on multiple occasions just to make out with you in a stairwell. You have no clue how long this fling would go on for, but god are you enjoying yourself.

“There she is!” Dina sees her before you do. The moment you spot the back of her auburn head, your breath catches in your throat.

“That’s Ellie, right?”

Her hair is uncharacteristically down from its regular bun. Did she cut it? Your gaze runs down the back of her neck and lingers over her exposed shoulders. You almost drop to your knees and thank god for the sweltering weather and Ellie’s inclination towards sleeveless tops. Her tattoo is on full display, and naturally so are her lean arms. Is that your hairtie on her wrist? You feel lightheaded.

“Jesus, chill. You just caught a glimpse of her and I can see your legs shaking already.” Dina’s sharp remark drags you back to earth and you whip to the side to see a look of disbelief on her face. Before you can respond, she sighs and shakes her head.

“One day I’ll have a girlfriend who looks at me like that.”

“She is not my girlfriend.” You turn to look at Ellie again, who’s talking to some guy you’ve never seen in your life and nursing a bottle of beer. You see her throw back her head in laughter. Jealousy pangs in your chest, even though you know Ellie would sooner kiss a grandmother over any man.

“Yeah, and my name is Jesse,” she shoots back. “Speaking of, I should probably go find him. See you. Call me if you don’t go home with Ellie.”

You finally push Dina off your, mortified but still laughing. “Go. I will.”

“Use protection!” she yells back as she disappears into the crowd.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you make your way towards Ellie. She turns around when you tap on her shoulder, eyes widening when she sees who it is. God, she looks even more gorgeous up close, green eyes piercing yours and her confident smile

“Look who finally decided to show up,” she quips, leaning in to give you a hug. ‘I told you to call me.”

Ellie is acting cool, but honestly? She truly thinks that she might burst. You look ridiculously sexy in that dress, she thinks when she pulls back, holding you at arm’s length to admire you. Since when did you start doing your hair like that, and why the hell didn’t you start earlier? The sheen of sweat and the flush on your face just makes her want to pull you into the nearest room and-

“Did you cut your hair?” you ask breathlessly. Ellie’s heart skips. She could listen to you talk like that for days.

She subconsciously reaches to brush the back of her head. That is your hairtie on her right hand. “Err, yeah. Just a trim. Do you like it?”

“I love it.” You smile and rub Ellie’s forearm tenderly, still in the post-hug proximity with her.

The mystery man that Ellie had been talking to mere seconds ago is long forgotten. Hell, everyone in this party ceased to exist the moment you walked in. If I don’t kiss her right now, I will actually die.

She cranes her neck to whisper in your ear, enjoying the way your breathing speeds up when she gets close again.

“Why don’t you show me how much you love it?”

A few blurry moments later you’re back in the house in some random poor girl’s room, straddling Ellie’s lap as she kisses your neck, the alcohol making her movements even sloppier and heavier. Your hands are gripping at the hair at the back of her head and you’re grinding mindlessly on Ellie’s thighs. Her hands are on your hips, guiding and encouraging you.

The muffled music from outside makes its way into the room, along with the occasional shouts and screams. A poster of a boy band stares at you from above the bed. This environment is the least sexy thing you could imagine, and yet here you are, thoroughly lost in the pleasure the girl under you is providing. You don’t think you could stop if you tried.

“Every time I see you, you somehow get even hotter,” you say in between gasps. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Ellie pauses for a minute to look up at you, her half-lidded eyes gazing at you with what you could only pin as adoration. Her cheeks are bright red and there’s sweat making her bangs stick to her forehead. You’re not even doing anything to her and she looks utterly debauched.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” she rasps. “Even just hearing you say that… I could get off to your voice… I mean, I already do, but…”

Any other day you’d be taken aback bu this confession, but right now all you feel is pride. This girl is like putty in your hands, and to be honest, so are you. You say nothing and yank gently on her cropped hair. Ellie whines, and you could listen to that forever, but you shut her up with a kiss. She tastes like beer and raspberry lipbalm.

“I can’t help myself when I’m with you,” you sigh when you withdraw from the kiss. “I don’t know if there’s a thing I wouldn’t do to just be like this with you… all the time…”

“Just… fuck? All the time?” Her hands are hitching up your dress, running over your ass and up your back. Goosebumps follow in the wake of Ellie’s touch and your back involuntary straightens when she reaches your bra strap.

“Yeah. Wouldn’t you?” Your voice is barely a whisper now, the cool air from the fan hitting your bare back as Ellie unclips your bra. She expertly pulls it off, barely getting it tangled in the sleeves of your dress. Her hungry hands move to massage your tits and you moan, bringing your hands down to grip Ellie’s strong shoulders.

She unzips your dress and it slips down your shoulders, exposing your bare chest. You feel her hips jump a little at the sight, and you feel your heart thump even faster as Ellie leans in to press kisses to your collarbone.

“I think you know the answer to that.”

[writefightandflightclub]

What’s Mine is Yours Mine: Nathan Bateman x fem!reader

Summary: Nathan has a present for you…

A/n: shameless smut / half-developed PWP I found kicking around in my drafts while I’m having a declutter. I’m getting too in my head about posting smut on here these days, so I thought I’d just bite the bullet and put this out there. Don’t look at me 😅 Originally was going to be part of a larger thing which is why I haven’t posted until now, but I’ll simply leave the rest to your imagination 😉

Warnings / ratings: 18+, explicit, minors do not interact. Dom/sub dynamics, collar, oral sex / throat fuck, mentions of choking. All consensual. Fairly mild compared to some stuff I’ve posted in the past. LOL.

“Come here,” Nathan purrs darkly, and the lust-laden, commanding tone of his voice is eminently familiar. Your muscle memory responds before you do, and you’re already turning towards him before you consciously respond, so used to obliging him by now.

Whatever he’s about to offer, you’re already interested - you can tell from his voice alone.

“What for?”

When you see the look in his eyes, you throw a little sex into your walk, swaying those hips of yours. Slinking over towards him.

“Got something for you,” he explains, moving to sit on the couch, his thick thighs spread wide apart and straining against those slacks of his.

“What is it?”

“Kneel down and maybe I’ll show you.”

You do. You oblige him, your knees settling into the plush rug as you settle in between his spread legs.

“Close your eyes.”

You do, and your heart hammers in anticipation. You reach out for clues, noting he is moving to grab something. You hear a subtle jangle. Something like a buckle. You wonder if he’s liberating himself, hard already, but in the next moment, you feel a sensation like cool leather at your neck.

A collar? You’d been asking for one, and now he’s spoiling you. A flood of heat travels right to your crotch as Nathan’s nimble fingers fasten it around you, deftly threading leather through buckle, until your neck is straining just right against the subtle tightness of it.

Your eyes remain obediently closed, but you hear Nathan hum in satisfaction. “There. Mmm hmm. That’s it.”

Sensing he is done, you open your eyes. You can’t see yourself but you can feel it. The slight tension and give of the collar bracing against your neck as you swallow. Your fingertips come up so you can explore the texture of it, seeking out the cool metal of the “o” ring right in the centre. You know without seeing that the leather is blood red, to match your wrist and ankle cuffs. You know Nathan wouldn’t give you anything but the best.

A devilish smile blooms over your face, and your eyes devour Nathan. Even while you are the submissive, you feel very much in control of where this is going.

“Christ. Jesus. Fuck.” Nathan praises as he drinks the sight of you in like this.

It’s not just the physical feeling of being dominated. The loss of control. More so, it’s the satisfaction that comes from Nathan wanting to “own” you. Knowing how badly he wants to make you his. That he chose you for this, and so much for besides.

“Oh,” you purr. “You like that? Like how I look?”

“You look so…” His fingers skim over your collar, up and down your throat.

“So what, Nathan?”

“So… mine.” His final word is practically a growl. A greedy sound.

“I am. Yours.”

“Yeah? You are?”

Your heavy gaze drops down to his crotch, where you note he is already swelling, a sizeable erection tenting beneath his pants. “Mmm,” you affirm, the sound drawn out and syrupy, hinting at the way you might sound if he treats you nicely. If he makes you feel good.

The pad of Nathan’s thumb brushes along your lower lip, the ghost of a touch. Your breath hitches in your throat, reminding you of the collar as it strains against your neck. Reminding you you’re his. That you belong to him. That he wants you to. Needs you to. “Is this mouth mine?”

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

You know what he wants. You open up for him, and he abruptly shoves two fingers over your tongue, sliding them all the way to the back of your throat until you gag on them. He tastes like barbell metal. You love it. You hate it. Abruptly, he does it again, his gaze flitting all over your face, awed by your compliance.

“Hnnnnnng,” he praises, shifting himself forward, until he is perched on the very lip of the couch, bringing the straining mass of him closer to your mouth. His thighs box you in, and a smugness drags over his mouth as he reaches out to you, wrapping both of his warm, broad hands around your feeble throat, no doubt feeling your racing pulse beneath his caress.

“Mmm,” he hums again, the sound almost involuntary in his throat - like a pre-programmed command - as he adjusts and settles his fingers one by one, curling them around your neck and that pretty collar. From the sounds he’s making, you have no doubt that the way you lean into it rather than shying away will have his dick throbbing hard and full in his pants. The way you push him for more, his touch far too gentle; for now.

Nathan’s gaze is obsidian by now, blown-out pupils engulfing bark-brown as he reads the dirty heat blazing in your eyes. He doesn’t squeeze yet. Not really. In fact, he kisses you, dragging you to his lips with his hands still folded around your throat in an unfulfilled promise.

The kiss is hungry but restrained, and it only leaves you wanting more.

Nathan shifts then, moving one hand to his crotch, threading leather through belt loops as he finally liberates himself. He bucks his hips slightly forward and you’re so close. So close to having him in your mouth.

You can smell him, musk and salt and skin. You tongue darts out, in anticipation of tasting him.

“You know what to do, Princess.” His tone is dripping with condescension now, but it turns you on. Makes you feel safe, even. “Go slow, don’t strain yourself.”

You part your lips, readying to sink down on his appealing, veined length, the head of him flushed purple with want.

You want him; but you know how to get him.

You hesitate, and then, impatient, desperate, needy Nathan grabs you by the collar at the nape of your neck and shoves you down on him, surging up and into your throat.

This time you don’t even gag. He can use you all he wants - you like it when he does.

You work your lips and tongue along his length, enjoying the way Nathan uses the collar to drag you off of him when it gets too much. When he gets too close to coming undone. You enjoy the pressure you feel around your neck. In your throat. Enjoy the way him filling you up squeezes tears out of the corners of your eyes.

“Who do you belong to?” Nathan stutters darkly, when your mouth has him holding on by a thread, as thin and delicate as the spit trails linking your lips to his cock.

“I’m yours, Nathan,” you sing-song obediently, and with a groan he shoves back into you, every pulse of his cum down your throat showing you how much he loves that you belong to him.

“Mine,” he growls, his hips bucking up into your mouth as he spills himself for you. “All mine.”

Funny - you think, as you eagerly swallow down the salt tang of him. You even think Nathan enjoyed your present just as much as you did. Maybe even a little more, so far; but you know it won’t be long before he evens out that score.

[mouthfullofmunson]

Clueless bestie Eddie though…

Eddie and Y/n have been friends for years and years

It all started when he bumped into her in the hall when they were in 7th grade (mainly because she was staring at him and he didn’t have a clue, he was nose deep into some random book his uncle had given him so he didn’t see the girl staring at him)

And both of their hearts dropped the second their supplies fell out of their hands and onto the floor, scrambling to grab their books. “I didn’t even see you. Jesus Christ, I’m sorry!”

And y/n is so choked up and shocked that the boy is even talking to her all she can say is “I love that book”

“Oh, you’ve read it?”

“I- well yeah. Who hasn’t? I’ve read it like a thousand times.”

“My uncle just gave it to me. It’s really good so far”

And that’s how their friendships started

And 7 years later eddie still hasn’t noticed the way y/n looks at him, she’s absolutely head over heels in love with this man

Even hopelessly in love with him when he starts dating some random twenty something year old who got a job at the hideout

And he talks about her all the time to y/n

“She’s just so sweet. She said she loves my hair and never wants me to cut it. And she said that she would love to watch hellfire and I’m going to teach her how to play d&d.”

“I tell you I love your hair all the time Eddie…”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to say that stuff! You’re my best friend.”

Great way to get friend zoned

And I can see y/n getting really hurt because he’s spending more time with his girlfriend and less time with y/n

And the limited time they have together is now spent fighting because

“I’ve missed this! We haven’t had a movie night in forever but I told Harrington that we’re having a best friend movie night so I need the best horror marathon he could wrack up.”

“Yeah we haven’t had anytime together.”

“Well yeah, I know. I’ve missed you. But I’ve got a girlfriend now.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just forget about me. If I was dating someone I would still make all the time in the world for you, Eddie. That’s because you mean a lot to me.”

“Are you seriously starting a fight on the one day we have together?”

“It doesn’t have to be one day, Eddie!”

“It does! And don’t make me feel bad for having a girlfriend just because I’m the only friend you have.”

“Fuck you eddie”

But of course, late one night y/n hears ticks at her window, sliding the window up to see Eddie shimmying up and sliding into her room. His eyes red, tears streaming down his cheeks, sniffling

He grabs one of the tissues on her nightstand and blows his nose, sitting there and hugging while harshly brushing his tears away

“What’s wrong, Eddie? What happened? Is it Wayne? Is he okay? Oh fuck, did he lose his job?”

“We broke up.”

“You broke up?”

“Well, she broke up with me.”

“Why’d she break up with you?”

“Cause she said she never really liked me that much and something with her using me to get back at her boyfriend. It’s all really childish and stupid.”

Y/n sits next to him and pulls him in a hug because as much as she hates him for what he did while he was with that girl but Eddie is her best friend after all and she feels terrible that he is so heartbroken

“No, that really sucks, Ed. I’m so sorry. I know you liked her.”

“I didn’t even like her that much, actually. She was such an asshole. I just loved being loved, you know? It felt so good to be loved by someone who didn’t have to… and even then. You know…”

And she finally has the courage to wipe his tears and press her lips to his big, puffy, chapped from being bitten at lips

And when they finally pull apart Eddie is so speechless and his hand comes up to brush over his lips, licking over them

Y/n is just proud she got the courage to kiss him, and she’s trying to focus even though she’s buzzing with excitement because the taste of him is still on her (which is cigarettes and apple juice)

“I love you, eddie. I actually love you. I know you have trouble trusting people but I would never do what she did to you. I really love you. More than a friend.”

“More than a best friend?”

“Yes!” She jumps up from her spot on the bed

“It’s not like a brother thing. You don’t see me like a brother?”

“No, Eddie! I’ve loved you since seventh grade. Do you know how crazy I’ve gone watching you date that girl. And you’ve been so fucking clueless all these years!”

Eddie finally has his “it was you all along” moment and grabs her hips, pulling her into him and kissing her like I’d be their last

And the next time Eddie takes y/n back to his trailer, looking all lovestruck while he holds Y/n close, leading her toward his bedroom

And Wayne sits there, drinking a cup of coffee

“I see you finally found out that girls in love with you. I thought you’d never figure it out, boy.”

Wayne definitely teases them 24/7 🤭

Okayyyyy!!! That’s all my thoughts!

Let me know yours if you have any!

:)

[starry-night-skyes]

Oc Incorrect Quotes P1 (MC Edition)

DAISES: If we don’t get out of this alive… If we’re both about to die… I love you, Alina! Neither of them die Alina: … DAISES: … Alina: So do you wanna talk about somethi- DAISES: No thank you.

|---|---|---|---|

Zia: Have you done this before? Alina: Well, Zia, it's like if you read the script you come better prepared. Vinni: That's not what we do in the US, we don't read things. Zia: I don't read, Alina.

|---|---|---|---|

Zia: Wow, I feel happy and I’m having so much fun! Zia: Zia: narrows eyes Something’s wrong here.

|---|---|---|---|

Azaela: Wow, great work on the Halloween decorations. Where did you get the fake skeletons? DAISES: Fake?

|---|---|---|---|

Azaela: I have a 1:30 appointment. Meridian: Which doctor? Azaela: No, I want the regular doctor.

|---|---|---|---|

Alina: We need a plan to beat them. Vinni: Okay, listen up. First, we fill their shoes with wet cat food. Alina: Vinni: Judge me all you want, I get results.

|---|---|---|---|

Leith: What’s the straightest thing you’ve ever done? Alina: sighs Alina: I killed a man.

|---|---|---|---|

Vinni: You look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river. Leith: Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who just OD'd in their own pool. Big difference.

|---|---|---|---|

Azaela: Happy Scorpio season. If you have to burn a bridge, do it safely! Leith: With NAPALM.

|---|---|---|---|

Leith: What do we think of Zia? pause DAISES: sighs Nice pal. Meridian: I think they're gay.

|---|---|---|---|

Meridian: There. How do I look? Vinni: Like a cheap French harlot. Meridian: French?!

|---|---|---|---|

Vinni: I wish I had acid. Thank you, Jesus. Amen.

|---|---|---|---|

Meridian: Who the fuck- Azaela: Language! Meridian: Whom the fuck- Azaela: No.

|---|---|---|---|

Leith: Are you tall enough to play basketball though? Alina: Are you calling me short? Leith: I'm calling you vertically challenged.

|---|---|---|---|

Meridian: Hey DAISES, Vinni just broke my seashell lamp. DAISES: Neat. I’m gonna die alone. Meridian: Okay, you win.

|---|---|---|---|

Vinni: I have lots of friends! Zia: Name one. Vinni: Well, there’s- Zia: Name one you haven’t gotten incredibly angry at. Vinni: Hey, that’s not fair, then there isn’t any!

|---|---|---|---|

Zia: I came out here to attack people and I'm honestly having such a good time right now.

|---|---|---|---|

DAISES: We are gathered here today because someone- glares at Zia’s coffin -couldn’t stay alive!

|---|---|---|---|

Azaela: Meridian! Vinni got that thing on the control panel working! Meridian: Wow! That looks pretty impressive. Azaela: Yeah! Meridian: Any idea what it does? Azaela: Not a clue.

|---|---|---|---|

Leith: Shh, here comes Zia! Alina: Quick, DAISES, start talking about boring nerd stuff! DAISES: You know, nerd culture is mainstream now, so when you use the word “nerd” derogatorily, it means you’re the one that’s out of the zeitgeist. Alina: Yes, that’s perfect. Just like that.

|---|---|---|---|

Zia, on the phone: Oh, hey man! Sorry for accusing you of murder last week.

|---|---|---|---|

DAISES: We have a problem. Alina: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

|---|---|---|---|

Alina: I personally don't think it's possible to come up with a crazier plan. Leith: We could attack them with hummus. Alina: I stand corrected. Leith: Just keeping things in perspective.

|---|---|---|---|

Zia: Did you just refer to a knife as a “people-opener”? Vinni: Vinni: …Should I not have?

|---|---|---|---|

Zia: We can’t tell you because you’re not a member of the club. Vinni: What club? Leith: The hating Vinni club. Vinni: …The fuck? I should be the leader of that club!

|---|---|---|---|

Vinni: I like wearing oversized sweaters. Not just because they're extremely comfy and cuddly, but because whenever the sleeves are really big, I get to flop them around and smack people.

|---|---|---|---|

Vinni: I’m this close to falling in love with Leith. Zia: Your fingertips are touching. Vinni: Exactly.

|---|---|---|---|

Meridian: Hey DAISES, can you give me the opposite of these words? Meridian: Always, Coming, From, Take, Me, Down. DAISES: Never, Going, To, Give, You- DAISES: The fucking satisfaction.

|---|---|---|---|

Vinni: There are no friends when playing board games. I am here to win.

|---|---|---|---|

Zia: Being gay is a constant battle between "I wish to sit on a window bench with my lover, our legs tangling as we listen to the birds" and "Hey, let's go throw rocks at fascists" and I think that's very sexy of us. Alina: If the window's open and you time it right, you can do both.

|---|---|---|---|

( @minnesotamedic186 )

[every-dayiwakeup]

Fighting Noises

Also available on ao3

Steve had been against the idea from the start, but once Billy decided something, he was just as immovable as Steve. Plus, they had just started dating, and the last thing Steve wanted was for their spark to fizz out so soon.

Whatever it takes to be happy, right?

Now, as Billy strides toward him wearing his best “I hate you” face, Steve really wishes he’d pushed a little more.

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

“You want us to do what?”

“I said, I want us to pretend we fucking hate each other’s guts,” Billy repeated like he was suggesting what they order for dinner.

“No, no, I got that. But why?”

“Because , Harrington.”

Whoever said boys were less complicated than girls was a single, dumb sack of shit.

“Is this about your father?”

“Contrary to popular belief, my problems don’t all revolve around him.”

Steve sat up on his bed, giving Billy his undivided attention. “Then what is it about?”

“We agreed to keep… us a secret.”

Steve opened his mouth to interrupt, but Billy continued, “I don’t give a shit if no one knows. Just pull King Steve back out of your ass, and I’ll be my usual, delightful self.” He raised his eyebrows, as if he expected Steve to imply otherwise. Something about how he’d said “delightful” sounded derogatory.

Instead, Steve kissed the frown off Billy���s face until a tentative smile took its place. Unfortunately, that strange plan of his wasn’t forgotten.

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

“Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?”

Is that your best attempt at being the worst? Steve wants so badly to laugh at his goof of a boyfriend, but then Billy would give him an agonizing silent treatment for as long as he could actually remain silent, which was surprisingly a decent chunk of time.

I did say I’d play my part.

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.”

Your move, now.

“What’s going on out there, Steve?”  Dustin yells from inside the Byers’ house.

“Nothing, dipshit.”

“Are you sure? I could’ve sworn I heard Billy’s voice.”

Billy flinches, and Steve doesn’t blame him. The kid makes his name sound like a curse word.

“Yeah, it’s me, Anderson,” Billy recovers quickly, smirking.

“Henderson!” “Don’t care.” He gives Steve a dirty look, mouthing, “Do I gotta do everything around here?” before spitting, “Watch your fucking mouth, Harrington.”

“Talking to yourself again, Hargrove?” He hates Billy’s last name because he knows how much Billy hates it.

“I know my stepsister is here. Come on out, Maxine!”

“She’s not here. Why don’t you get back in your little car and drive back home?” Don’t.

“No can do.” Billy shoves Steve hard enough to knock the wind out of him, and looks down at him with disdain, his cigarette still in his mouth somehow. “I thought I told you to plant your feet.”

Billy invents a whole new level of pretty when he’s angry, even if it’s an act. He really does take Steve’s breath away.

“You’re a fucking asshole. What’d I ever do to you?”

“I don’t like liars.”

Steve reaches forward and pulls Billy on top of him. I wanna kiss you so bad right now; you have no fucking clue.

“Do it,” Billy spits, tugging Steve’s collar.

Jesus Christ, can he read minds?

“Punch me.”

“Huh?”

“Punch. Me.”

“I’m not gonna punch you, idiot. What the fuck?” Steve hisses, horrified. He’s never wanted to kill a man more than he’s wanted to kill Neil Hargrove.

“Why not? Scared, Harrington?”

“I’m not doing this.” “Commit to the role, c’mon!”

“It was your idea, not mine!”

“You went along with it.”

“Until tonight. I’m not hitting you.”

“You know you want to. Everyone wants a shot at me.”

“I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work.” “You can’t tell me you haven’t dreamed of giving me a big ole shiner.”

“The only bruises I wanna give you are when I leave behind a hickey or two.” Steve nips the tender flesh of Billy’s neck, and Billy whines so loud it shocks him.

“That wasn’t part of the plan,” he growls, pushing Steve’s chest.

“How about we come up with a new plan? Sound good?” Steve unbuttons Billy’s remaining buttons with his teeth and starts teasing him, pretending to bite his tits, but then nibbling on his earlobes instead.

“Gahhhhhhhh!”

“You’re gonna wake the dead.”

Billy weakly tries kneeing Steve’s dick. “You-shut-up.”

Steve leans in, grinning. “What was that?” “Why are you - nghh - being so difficult? Just do it already!”

“No. I said-”

“Not that…” Billy’s voice grows quieter. “The other thing.”

“Why did you even come up with this stupid ass idea in the first place?”

“Just kiss me like you said you would-” “Not until you answer my question.”

“Didn’t think you wanted… people to know you were with a boy. With me.”

“You mean people at school? The kids?”

Billy stops wriggling around under him.

Bullseye.

“S stupid, I shouldn’t care what anyone, least of all Maxine’s stupid brat pack thinks of me.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t care about what they think, not of you. I don’t need their approval. You’re my boyfriend.”

“Kiss me,” Billy demands. “Kiss me right fucking now.”

[worldofbullettrain]

The Roommates

Tangerine & Y/N

3 parter

“Lemon!! Where are my airpods!” Y/N yelled in a fit, ripping through her bed sheets in a thought that they may have fallen into some endless void, and your only plan now was to blame one of your temporary roommates.

“No clue, Blueberry.” Lemon yelled from the other room. That was strange, as Lemon was normally this slick rat that borrowed your things with no thought of returning them. There was a heavy sigh before you called out the other one.You and Tangerine did not get along, you haven’t since the day you met. If he wasn’t such a pretentious asshole who was more concerned about his facial hair than the human race, you might've found some semblance in enjoying his presence, but since that was not the case, you hated each other. As you yelled out his name, the silence was loud. You huffed out, feeling the ignorance already flooding into your room. Tangerine never really stepped foot in your room, and barely had he made his way nearer to your door, he seemed to always keep a practical 5-foot distance from it. You could have sworn that he wouldn’t take your things, because he was even grossed out by the plates you touched. You wanted to continue to search your room for the missing airpods, but something was telling you that they had made their way out of your room. As you left your room, you called the man again, still no answer. You now dug through the couch.

“Is he even here?” You looked at Lemon and he shrugged, scrolling through his phone. You rolled your eyes at his dismissal.

“Words are great. I know they are tough for Thomas fans like you, still learning and all.” You smirked. Lemon gasped and dropped his phone on his lap. You yelled out “Tangerine!” one more time to stop Lemon from his upcoming rant.

You looked over at the hallway leading to the room where Tangerine stayed. You were hesitant in even approaching the dark hallway. You walked over and saw his room door closed. You walked down and continued to yell his name every time you stepped closer. There was still no response. You finally got to the door, and knocked three times, calmly stating his name at first. There was still no response.

“He must’ve stepped out.” You said to yourself, but loud enough for Lemon to hear, you hear Lemon chuckle as you start down the hall. That was until you heard a thud in Tangerine’s room, and a quick “shit.”

You turn quickly on your heels, now yelling his name.

“Stop ignoring me, you arse!” You are now banging on the door.

“I am coming in, damnit!” You said on your final knocks. You bust through the door, the sight before you leaving your jaw on the floor. Tangerine in a pair of sweatpants, spinning around like a fool.

“Let’s get physical, physical..” The whispered hums coming from him were enough to make you cackle, yet you stood in front of him with nothing but your mouth open and furrowed brows. Your white airpods, tucked in his ears as he continued to dance around his room, not a thought of you being behind him in mind.

There was about a solid 10 seconds more before he finally opened his eyes and he jumped in the air, with a scream.

“What, the actual, fuck?” You said, as Tangerine held his hand over his chest, trying to catch his breath while also turning red from a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

“Jesus, you cunt, can’t you fucking knock?” He yelled out at you. You raised a brow, and crossed your arms. “I did.” You said sternly, not really sure how else to respond to the harsh word he decided to call you. “Get out.” He said.

“Uhm, no. I need my airpods, thank you very much.” You said now stepping towards him.

“Shit, give me like 20 more minutes. Please.”

“No! I need them for the gym, and that is right now.” You protested, now sticking your hand out. “Why did you go in my room in the first place?” You continued, now getting visibly annoyed at your roommate.

“I didn’t want too, but I needed to fucking decompress.” He responded. “You only use them when you’re watching porn anyway.” There it was, the comment you had been waiting for. He turned back around and pointed you towards the door before placing the headphone back in ear.

You let out a scream before attacking the man in front of you, tackling him onto his bed.

“Holy shit, you fucking psycho! He yelled as he held your prying arms in front of him the sounds of “Let’s get Physical” pumping through the white ear buds was like a stinging ambiance to the fight. You pulled back and punched him on his side, earning an angry ‘umph’ from him. He didn’t take lightly to your actions and now restrained both of your wrists above your head, before pulling his legs around your sides and flipping you onto your back. He sat on you now, and you wiggled below him, a slight glint his eyes showed briefly, causing you to stop moving your hips, and realize the position you both were in. His eyes were dark, and you knew it was time to get this man off of you. You pushed him off and onto the floor, where he fell with a loud thud.

You hopped up, and extended your hand once more, while the other fixed your hair.

He reached for his ears, only to find both the ear buds now missing.

“Well, shit.” He said.

“Must be lost in the sheets..” He winked.

[lamardeuse]

2022 writing review

1. Number of works posted to AO3: 10 (8 fics plus 2 vids)

2. Word count posted for the year: 59,553 (not a lot compared to some but in terms of the last few years it’s one of my higher word counts, and the highest one since 2012)

3. Fandoms I wrote for: 9-1-1, Merlin, Our Flag Means Death

4. Pairings: Buck/Eddie, Merlin/Arthur, Lucy Donato/OFC, Ed/Stede

5. Story with the most:

kudos:  Bajo Fuerte Como Ron

bookmarks & comment threads: Forest for the Trees

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): eh, I don’t know about “proud” but I was pleased with among the rusted hulls of years, which was such fun because I was able to get back to writing about both London and Merlin again. It was also gratifying to hear from people that it had hit the mark for them in terms of the emotional notes because it covered some pretty heavy topics and I wasn’t sure if I’d gotten the mix right.

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why): again, I don’t really think of it in terms of being “proud” of fanworks - I’m just happy I managed to write as much I did, and each story or vid has elements I enjoyed.

8. Share or describe a favorite review you received: this one that I got yesterday, I mean holy fuck. And this one from the recipient of the Merlin fic was pretty damn amazing too.

9. A time when writing was really, really hard: the last month I haven’t been all that motivated to write, but I’m hoping to get some more 911 fic written before 6B airs in March.

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: basically, there’s always a point (if I’m lucky) in every fic where the characters take over and it feels like they’re writing it - I don’t know where a particular line or idea comes from as I’m writing it. It’s weird, but interestingly those are the lines or ideas that often get quoted back to me by people. There were times in Forest for the Trees, for example, which I was trying to write in Buck’s voice in the description as well as the dialogue, where I swear that I was channeling him - for instance, I have no idea where the Shape of Water comparison came from. It’s when I know I’m on the right track.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing: probably the whole of the getting-together scene in The Art of Wifery - I was trying to write Ed POV and get Stede’s voice right and I felt like that whole scene really built and flowed naturally, so I was pleased with it. One excerpt: 

When he's standing right behind Stede, Ed sees him close his eyes. There's a fine tremor in Stede's shoulders as he takes a deep breath in through his nose.

“What's wrong?”

Stede opens his eyes again, and this time the light catches a shine in them that wasn't there before. “Nothing. For the first time in my life, I think I can honestly say nothing is wrong.”

“Stede –”

“And you know, I don't care if you want me to wear a dress for the rest of my bloody life, if it makes you look at me like that – if it makes you –”

“Jesus, Stede, it's not about the dress.”

Stede's reflection raises an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, so it's a little bit about the dress,” Ed admits. “But not the way you think.”

12. How did you grow as a writer this year: Just getting back into writing semi-regularly in the last couple of years (and vidding this year) has been such a joy, 911 and OFMD have been a gift.

13. How do you hope to grow next year: Not a freaking clue. I do want to try to write something longer again, I guess, and push myself to get back to writing an actual plot of some complexity.

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc): there is SO MUCH great meta in 911 fandom from people like @yramesoruniverse and it’s really helped me to see the characters and the buck/eddie relationship in particular from so many different angles. You’re all amazing and I adore your energy, your enthusiasm and your big brains.

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: way too much hahaha - and the freaky thing is sometimes I don’t pick up on it until afer I’ve written it.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: Don’t get butthurt if you’re called out on something you’ve written that’s caused harm. Writing it in the first place doesn’t necessarily make you a dickhead, but crying about it and getting your friends to defend your honour against marginalized people who are giving you free advice on how to do better? That definitely makes you a dickhead. Apologize, fix it and apply what you’ve learned in the future. Learn to separate yourself from your work a little bit - criticism of a fic is not criticism of you personally.

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: Oh god, there’s a buddie AU I want to write but it will take Work and I’m trying to motivate myself to get started on it.

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read: Anyone and everyone!

[meanderingthoughtsofthewretched]

Back again.

Another night staying up way too late crying because am I’m trying to fall asleep my brain starts dredging up shit. I was done literally less than an hour ago, but now? Crying again and I know I won’t stop for a while unless I actively distract myself, so might as well type here.

I guess I’ll start with the big one. I was not accepted into grad school. Again. For the *third fucking year in a row*. When I first got the news I was sad, sure, but more than that I was just pissed. I tried *so fucking hard* because *no one* was helping me. I don’t know what people want, what they expect, and I’m just flailing around in the dark.

Yeah, I know the first year was my bad. In my defense, I had not clue what I was doing. I spent wayyyyy too long studying for the stupid fuckjng GRE (why the shit do they have math that I haven’t seen since 7th grade????) and not near enough time on the statement of purpose, cv, or resume. But also in my defense, I didn’t know what schools I was trying to apply for because I was *literally* told certain ones I was not allowed to go to (which I bet my dad conveniently forgot he did) and then the ones I found I was told sucked ass. By the time I was told this (because of course no one fucking told me on their own, I had to fuck up first) it was too late to apply for any of the good ones. Yes, I was someone picky, but god forbid the tiny short ass 100 pound soaking wet sheltered kid not want to go across country **by herself** with *no drivers license or car* and no experience living in an apartment. So I applied to where I could and crossed my fingers.

Obviously, that didn’t work out. Year two, I tried to go for one school only, that way I could tailor my letter better. I thought I did good, but the panic attacks I got any time o tried to work on it made it take too long, and one of my profs didn’t get their letter of recommendation in on time, this I was auto denied. Which sucks, but I understood why.

So try again! Except, the time when I could have been connecting with profs, and writing, I had to spend relearning how to drive and then actually taking the damn test. Fuck, I hated that entire experience. I was constantly anxious and panicked, crying myself to sleep most nights and struggling to hold it together in front of my parents, who were acting like it was the easiest thing in the world to do and didn’t understand why I was struggling. I had to redo everything because wow! Paperwork can expire! And when I last did all of this *two fucking years earlier* they didn’t help me, and left me to flounder. I don’t know why they thought I could magically learn how to drive a car without *being in one* but I guess it didn’t matter that much to them until it was an inconvenience and actually affected them.

Anyways, this year I don’t know why I didn’t get it. I can only guess. Was it because I only had one bio prof, and the other two were other branches? (Earlier prof who got in late decided she just… didn’t want to, and made it my problem because she also took almost a month to answer me, requiring me to find a prof that was willing to write on an incredibly short notice.) Was it because it was turned in close to the deadline? If so, why have the deadline there??? It makes no sense. And I hate that it is during winter break, because if something goes wrong you have to work your ass off to get anyone to answer you about stuff. I also couldn’t show that I was upset, or worried, because that might have made my lil sister upsetti about going back for another semester 🙃

Every single. Fucking. Time I have any problems, someone else has it worse so I have to bite my tongue to not make it worse *for them*. Especially the bean. Jesus I hate that I’m here essentially as an emotional support sister, because my parents were tired of her losing her shit at the smallest things.

And yet!!! She has her life together!! Holy fuck! She’s got a car that she likes that she is confortable driving, a boyfriend who is willing to come see her at the drop of a hat, friends who she regularly sees and hangs out with and are willing to take her places, gaming consoles that are just hers, and a place to stay that is away from parents and where she feels she can be herself. She’s got a job and an internship *paid*, like **well paid** coming up that will likely lead her to other jobs, profs that like her and have said they are willing to write her recommendations, and it’s all been handed to her on a fucking platter.

I was not allowed to learn how to drive until now, much less have a car. No significant other to see or hang with. Friends are far away and don’t bother initiating contact (I have a whole rant saved for later about that). I’ve literally never had my own console to play on, they have all been shared and eventually taken away by my siblings, much less the tv and projector she has. I feel trapped here, and watched. I was literally not allowed to have a job and now can’t do anything because the walkable things are for students only and *I don’t have a fucking car*. One of my profs straight up said she doesn’t want to bother writing for me anymore because I’m not worth it. Basically any opportunity in college was squashed thanks to COVID and me not taking a year off when I should have. And now all opportunities are limited to students so I can’t even get any more experience to try and because a student to actually move on in life. And I just??? What the fuck am I supposed to do??? All I can do is cry.

I haven’t told my dad yet, I have no idea how he will take it. He will probably get mad.

My mum actually had the gall to ask me if I actually want to get a masters. I told her yes, but in reality?? How the fuck should I know??? I was never allowed to have a damn opinion about things involving my life, why start now?? She was the one who decided my life path, hell she tried to decide that for all my siblings, and I was the only one who didn’t say no. So, no, I don’t know if I actually want this, I don’t know what I want to do at all, this is her dream. Be been so damn depressed for so long, all I want is to have a stable life.

All I want is somewhere to live with people I choose, who I don’t feel obligated to take care of, a stable job that pays decently so I can occasionally get things I like, and isn’t soul crushing, a car that gets me places safely, and the ability to breathe without being constantly stressed out.

Is that really so much to ask???

I’ll do the friend rant later, but I’m. Too tired. It took over an hour to write this and it’s just ramble at this point.

Fuck

[imnotyopapi]

synopsis: a dinner date with the friend that you totally don’t have any feelings for going relatively unexpected.

fem reader - het romance

a bit nsfw

we’re nothing, we’re just friends, there’s nothing more than that and anything that were to be more than that is purely imagination, right?

fuck. yeah. i’m right.

he’s just the boy who parades my mind in the hours of the night i’m not thinking all too clearly, or the one i’m off with the daisy’s thinking about when work’s quiet, or the one where -

i don’t want him.

he’s invited me out to dinner and drinks tonight, it’ll be nice to wind down for once, it’s been a full on week with everything i’ve had going on. i’ll wear this gorgeous blue dress i got a while back, it should get some attention from him, i don’t want anything with him nor is anything to happen, i just like the thought of him gazing with those eyes. those fucking eyes. i’m getting distracted.

‘here comes the airplane’ and a piece of sushi between two chopsticks coming rapidly towards my face. fuck, he’s an idiot. but, i mean, he makes me laugh i guess? 3 bottles of wine down and shit, i guess we’re getting some more.

he starts talking, i don’t really know what about? he’s just saying a bunch of words i don’t quite understand, but i smile and nod anyways, it’s still interesting to me, and hell, i kind of want to keep hearing his voice.

i don’t know if it’s the alcohol in my system or if he looks both like a serial killer, and kind of fucking hot right now.

if i have to force myself to look somewhere else because i caught myself staring at him one more time, i’m going to lose my shit.

*A-Punk by Vampire Weekend starts playing in the background*

jesus christ! one hand, he lifts my chin up with his finger to make me look him in his eye, and the other, wrapped around my wrist, he’s pulling me up. ‘come dance, don’t be a bummer!’ he slurs. fuck it.

i have no clue how much time has passed, it feels like it’s frozen, and i want it to stay that way. he has no idea how to dance and i fucking love it. he spins me out, i reach my arm out, tilting back, and he spins me back in, and as i come in, his hand comes around my lower back and causes our hips to rub together. ‘bold.’, i say. i can’t really mutter much more than that because if there’s one thing this man can do, it’s catching me off guard. staring at my lips, i think he’s uncovered the anxiousness that was obvious by me biting them. ‘bold..’ he says to himself, and then i see him mouth ‘fuck it.’

he pins me up against a wall, one hand over my head, ‘you think that was bold?’, he leans in, with a dead expression in his eyes, i stutter, but i can’t get any words out. how does he reply to that? a smirk, a fucking smirk. this fucking man-

my hand pushes further against the wall mimicking the way he pushes his lips against mine, he pulls away by a matter of millimeters, his bottom lip dragging against mine, just for him to go in again.

i haven’t fucking ever been in this situation before, what the fuck do i do?

i slip a bit of tongue, and the tip of his tongue meets the end of mine, he pulls away to bite my lip, dragging my bottom lip between his teeth for a split moment, before we start making out again.

after what feels like a whole 10 minutes have passed, he finally leans back, i feel an exhale as he comes away, and both of us are completely out of breath.

i don’t want him.

oh, fuck it.

i pull him in by his belt and mimic every last fucking movement he did to me, the lipbite, the brush, every last fucking thing.

once i’ve backed off after another, what, probably 10 minutes he looks at me again with those dead fucking eyes.

he leans in towards my ear, and after a light nibble he whispers ‘that’s it?’ and he stands back for a moment.

‘give me a chance, anything you could want, or anything you fucking crave, it’s yours.’ he exclaims, loud enough for everyone on the floor to hear, but i don’t think he cares?

he looks at you with that fucking smirk again.

i don’t want him, there’s nothing between us.

yeah, there’s nothing. totally. we’re just friends.

i fucking hate this guy. let’s go.

[crimsun-n-clover]

was listening to fleetwood mac in the car yesterday and picked up maggie. the chain came on and i said “this song is a curse because i love it but it reminds me i can play mandolin” “YOU CAN PLAY MANDOLIN??”

i officially have Dad Lore.

also we got halloween costumes. it’s gonna be rad. taking ruth’s nieces trick or treating.

matt’s in town. fucking wild. haven’t seen him in years.

other shit has happened probably but i blacked out less than twenty minutes ago and am currently nonverbal. plus all my competence is spent on ofmd brainrot. my instagram fan page is active to a concerning degree.

i’m waiting for my psychiatrist to call. was supposed to see her in person today. i just was rambling yesterday about how bullshit that is. “it’s exclusive to disabled people now that we’ve established we can do it over the phone” “it’s the rules stevie.” as if i ever gave a fuck. and today i woke up crying and blacked out when i tried to get out of bed so no fucking WAY am i going two towns over to go “can i pwetty pwease have my pills so i don’t kill myself also can you refer me to a ketamine clinic”

fuck it i’m crying in front of this bitch. try me. i’m listening to the velvet underground i’ll cry at you SO hard you’ll be up at night uncomfortable over it.

i think i’m getting over sugar as of today. thought about her and there was only disgust. there was still yearning yesterday. maybe i’m just missing my yearning ability because i almost fucking died while waking up, but i hope it’s gone.

she doesn’t give a shit about anyone but herself and her reputation. she’s all caring and nice until it’s inconvenient or challenges her flimsy beliefs. she fucking threw me away and somehow i’m the one all messed up over it. as if it wasn’t all her fault. i think she’s working at the new starbucks by the high school based off of context clues, so i guess i’m never fucking going in there. i’m too good for that. not a fan of corporate coffee anyway. i’m a fan of the taste but i can just get a shitty one at the gas station for cheaper that treats my migraines much better.

can’t fucking believe i went on a Bender For The Ages over someone who thinks taylor swift is the second coming of jesus christ. and watches racist minecraft streamers. and talks out loud in public about how she wants them to fuck her. and will pick anyone over me despite how she was always on about how i’m her favorite person in the world. i stole shit and cried and lashed out and screamed and drank and smoked myself fucking comatose over that??

of course i miss her. she was the only person i was honest with. but i also really fucking love lying so i’m doing great.

if she came back and said sorry, i’d probably take her back eventually. i hate to admit it. i mean i completely fucking shut down whenever i’ll be your mirror comes on, what else do you expect out of me? but come ON, she’s too self-victimizing for it to even cross her mind. try to kill yourself for being gay and then we’ll talk babe <33