#sixth grade gosh i feel old | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

koraesdoodles · 2 years ago

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I posted 190 times in 2022

That's 138 more posts than 2021!

106 posts created (56%)

84 posts reblogged (44%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@koraesdoodles

@unearthlyfromage

@gobblewanker

@starprincess4

@mother-ofthe-universe

I tagged 173 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#gravity falls - 97 posts

#stanley pines - 79 posts

#stanford pines - 79 posts

#practice makes progress - 72 posts

#stan twins - 47 posts

#gravity falls fanart - 46 posts

#other people's much better art - 31 posts

#ford pines - 19 posts

#stan and ford pines - 19 posts

#stan pines - 16 posts

Longest Tag: 105 characters

#i'm like the dweeb at the middle school lunch table hoping you all don't kick me out since i don't belong

My Top Posts in 2022:

Heavily inspired/redraw of this: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/51228514500114889/

EDIT: @eregyrn-falls and @hkthatgffan found the original for me! Thank you! https://sleepyharpseal.tumblr.com/post/157619413269

84 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

@forduary Week 4: Hug it out

The first time Ford found Stan curled up on his bed with the blanket pulled over his head they’d been six years old. Stan had gotten into the new books Ford had received for Christmas and accidentally spilled paint all over them. Ford was furious, and didn’t talk to Stan for three days. Then he’d walked into their room and found Stan in a ball sobbing his little eyes out.

Ford sat on the bed hesitantly, looking at the floor while his brother pretended that he didn’t know Ford was there. Eventually, Stan peeked over the blanket and Ford began to talk.

“I’m still mad.”

“-- I didn’t -- !”

“I’m still mad.” He reached out hesitantly then abandoned caution and threw his arms around his brother. “I really liked those books.” To his horror, tears started to roll down Ford’s cheeks. Hiccup’s caught his breath and it felt like he couldn’t breathe. “I can be mad!” Stan held him while he cried.

Ford forgave him a day later.

When they were ten, Stan came home sunburnt and angry. Ford had spent the day working on a new project, and didn’t realize why Stan was giving him the cold shoulder until he glanced at the clock.

“Oh my gosh, Stan I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize it was so late I --”

“Whatever, Poindexter.”

“No, I mean it! Did you go to the fair? Did you see any clowns?”

“Leave me alone.”

“Stan --”

“Just do your stupid science and leave me alone, Stanford!” Stan shoved his brother out of the way and slammed the door to their room, leaving Ford in the hallway, feeling like a jerk.

He apologized again that night. Stan said he forgave him. But it wasn’t until a week later that he actually started acting normal again.

Ford held grudges. When someone wronged him, they were on his black list for life. Crampelter grew up and lived a good life, but Ford never forgave him for his childish bullying. Carla McCorkle would never earn his forgiveness after taking his brother on a date that resulted in Stan getting a black eye and being grounded from the Stan o’ War for three weeks (he never did get Stan to tell him exactly what had happened, but Stan got in trouble enough without some girl making things even more difficult). When someone did him wrong, Ford wasn’t one to immediately jump to forgiveness.

But he always forgave Stan. When Stan lied to him about taking their Pa’s gold chain, Ford forgave him. When Stan stole Ford’s math homework in sixth grade and copied it, Ford forgave him and even let him copy his other assignments (Pa wouldn’t get as mad at Stan if he got better grades, so he figured it was good for both of them). Ford even forgave Stan’s lackluster excitement when Ford was offered the chance to go to his dream school.

And he would have forgiven Stan after the science fair. He would have, if Stan hadn’t left (been kicked out, but he didn’t have to leave forever. He could have stayed around, explained himself, something, instead of just leaving Ford behind with nothing).

But Ford deserved to be mad! Stan had wrecked things too many times. He was allowed to be mad about this. That didn’t mean he was going to freeze his brother out forever, he just . . . needed some time.

Stan didn’t hold grudges. He forgave easily and fast. But he let the pain linger. He held onto it like it was proof that whatever bad things happened to him were proof of an unfair universe that was out to get him. It wasn’t his fault that his dad was unfairly hard on him, or that he wasn’t as smart as his brother, or that the machine broke after a single punch to the table. It wasn’t his fault that he needed to steal to eat and that the supplies he was able to aquire built crummy vacuumes and worse bandages.

He just needed a chance, but nobody was willing to give him one.

It was a perfect storm. And things didn’t get better when they reunited ten years later, and there was no quick forgiveness when Ford stepped out of the portal thirty years after that. Too much had happened, and maybe Ford needed more time or maybe he’d just gotten so used to being upset that he didn’t spare any thought into fixing things. And Stan was willing, waiting to forgive his brother, but couldn’t stand that things had gone wrong for him again. It wasn’t until later that they realized something had to change. And by then, it was almost too late.

Ford walked into his brother’s room three days after they’d defeated Bill. It was the first thing he did every morning, since Stan tended to sleep in and Ford tried to avoid sleeping altogether. Ford liked having breakfast with the whole family, and he couldn’t do that if his brother insisted on staying in bed all day.

Ford also didn’t like being away from his twin for long periods of time. He’d spent thirty years holding a grudge against his brother, but he never imagined Stan actually being gone. Stan was always safe, which Ford most definitely wasn’t. He’d gone through the stages multiple times over the decades, forgiving Stan and then being angry at him all over again. But when his brother stared at him with those blank eyes, having no recollection of who he was or what had happened, Ford felt a fear that he’d never before experienced. He’d wanted to grab Stan and shake him, force him to come back to him. He could deal with being apart from his brother, he could deal with being angry at his brother, but he could not deal his brother being gone. He could not handle a brother that didn’t know him, who had sacrificed everything in order to save Ford despite everything.

It felt like if he let Stan out of his sight for too long, then his brother would revert back to that state. He knew it was illogical, but it didn’t matter. He woke his brother up every morning anyway.

Stan was curled up in a ball under the blankets. Ford went to shake his shoulder but found that Stan was already shaking.

“Stanley?” Ford’s voice made Stan jolt.

“Morning already?” Stan’s voice was more gruff than usual, though he was clearly trying to sound normal.

“Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Now go away, I don’t have on any pants.”

See the full post

86 notes - Posted February 27, 2022

FINISHED! Late but here. Stanuary Week 2: Identity

96 notes - Posted January 16, 2022

Okay, okay, last one, I swear. I couldn’t let an AU week go by without including @artsymeeshee ‘s adorable Chibi Stan!

@forduary week 3: AU

124 notes - Posted February 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Whoops I made a chibi!stan 😆

I was looking at poses and came across this super cute one of a person with this little shoulder angel and I thought to myself: oh yeah, I bet I can make this worse.

Stan is not as excited as his brother, but Joke's on Ford when he starts worrying about his brother getting kidnapped and eaten by seagulls, or that he'll wake up in a coffee-needing haze and accidentally step on his mini-bro.

Chibi!stan belongs to @artsymeeshee

124 notes - Posted July 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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plagueofskeletons · 2 years ago

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Indrid Nyrocstar

Ohhhhhhh gosh this is like one of my oldest ocs. Like made up in sixth grade old. Man habibi you have to make me feel embarrassed to talk about it but OH WELL-

So like at that time, I was really into X-Men and Nightcrawler was one of my favourite characters. Naturally, I ended up creating a character who was cloned from his dna. Indrid was one of those typical angry, traumatized, edgy teenage boys with overpowered abilities raised in a secret facility that created and abused him as well as a complicated healing arc.

I don’t remember much more details but I do remember feeling proud with his name since it’s derived from Indrid Cold (that one cryptid weirdo man) and Nyroc/Coryn from Guardians of Ga’Hoole. now? maybe too much overkill lmao

I actually started revisiting his story and design and began tweaking a few things. but idk if I could just leave him be in the cringe past or make him more relevant in the modern. but anyway he’s now pansexual, nonbinary and aged into his late twenties. little less edgy now. wish I could sketch him but too tired to lmao

thanks for the ask!

#plague answers #some of my cringe is revealed and trying to be proud (complicated)#plague shares some ocs

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izzielizzie · 3 years ago

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Rough on the Surface but You Cut Through Like a Knife

summary: When Bronwyn Rojas ends up next to the ever obnoxious Nate Macauley in Spanish class, she doesn’t really mean to hit him with a book. Well, she does, but she doesn’t expect to end up in the principal’s office with him. And she definitely doesn’t expect to find him amusing.

alternatively: Bronwyn hits Nate with a book and a long overdue conversation ensues (AU)

title from Willow by Taylor Swift

I’m about to drop into my regular seat in AP Spanish, my last class of the day, when Señora Trias calls “Don’t sit yet niños, we have some seat switching to do!”

I groan along with the rest of the class and catch Kate’s eye. We’ve sat together the entire year. I don’t even think I know anyone else in my class. She shrugs in a resigned sort of way. Señora Trias is a force to reckoned with, and we both know she’ll never let us stay in the same seats. We follow the teacher’s instructions, and I’m too busy trying to figure out the complicated dance we’re doing - row one to the left, row two to the right, front to back and back to front - that I don’t even notice that I’ve ended up next to a boy in a ratty leather jacket.

Ugh. Nathaniel Macauley. The school’s notorious drug dealer/womanizer/delinquent/major headache.

And this headache is smirking at me.

“Can I help you?” I ask.

“Nope, I’m all good… partner.”

I hate the way he says that word, it’s suggestive and disgusting and I suppress a shudder, turning instead to the front of the room, where we’re reviewing pluscuamperfecto. As a native Spanish speaker, I can confidently say I have no idea what the heck that is.

“This is pointless,” Nate grumbles.

“Shhh,” I whisper back, taking a glance at his sharp jaw and deep blue eyes. I’ve known Nate from a distance my whole life, we’ve gone to the same schools since kindergarten, but this is the first time we’ve been so close - or exchanged words - in years.

I look back to the teacher, who’s now going over conjugations. I scribble them down in my notebook as Nate tips his chair back on two legs, rocking back and forth.

“You’re going to kill yourself,” I inform him.

“Wow Rojas, I didn’t know you cared.”

I scoff and Señora Trias sends us a sharp look. “Señorita Rojas. Señor Macauley, no talking.”

I give Nate a sharp look. “Now look what you’ve done,” I hiss, feeling the reprimand as if it had been thrown at me. Nate just smirks.

“You’ve never been in trouble have you?” he asks. I ignore him and he barks out a laugh, my silence serving as an answer. “Wow Rojas, I knew you were straight laced but I didn’t know you were that straight laced.”

And we all know you’re not I think, remembering the drug bust rumor Kate was whispering about last week.

Nate clearly can tell I’m not interested in listening to him, so in the time it takes me to pull out the short novel we’re reading in class from my bag and read about a chapter, Nate doesn’t say a word. When I’m copying down the questions our teacher wrote on the board onto my notebook, he starts talking.

“What’s the answer to one?”

“Solo español por favor!” Señora Trias calls from the front of the class. I give Nate a triumphant look, expecting him to be unable to follow the teacher’s instruction of only talking in Spanish. Unfortunately this is Spanish class. And Nate’s not an idiot. He repeats the question in the correct language, and I decide that I’d be better off ignoring him.

After a few moments, I can feel Nate leaning over my shoulder. I look over to see his eyes on my paper.

“Stop that,” I whisper.

“Spanish only,” he whispers back.

“That wasn’t even in Spanish!”

“Neither was that,” Nate points out.

I huff and go back to my paper, flipping through my book to find the answer to my next question.

“Help meeeee,” Nate whispers.

“Shut up,” I say.

“Bronwynnnnnn.”

“Shhh.”

“Rrrrrrojas.”

My sister once told me about out of body experiences when we were children, and at the time I had scoffed because the supernatural does not exist. But when I close my book - marking my page with my finger because I’m not a philistine - and swing it straight into Nate’s face, I swear I’m not controlling myself at all.

“Would you shut up?” I snap as an unnatural silence overtakes the room. I look around for the first time, meeting stricken faces. Kate’s looking at me like she’s never met me before.

“Bronwyn Rojas,” Señora Trias says dangerously. I risk a glance at Nate and feel a flash of sympathy when I see a red mark on his cheek. But he’s smirking at me so maybe he deserved it.

I’m frozen, not quite sure what to say. Señora Trias points to the door. “Principal. Both of you.”

“Both!” Nate and I say at the same time.

“Yes, look at that you’re in sync, no use that rhythm to get to the office.”

Not the best witty comment around, all things considered, but since Señora Trias looks like she’s ready to commit murder so I let it slide.

“So let me get this straight,” Principal Gupta says, staring at Nate and I, sitting side by side in the uncomfortable chairs in Gupta’s office. “You two were partnered in Spanish class, Bronwyn you were annoyed with Nathaniel, so you hit him with a book?”

Nate tips his chair back and I kick at his ankle. He kicks back.

“Bronwyn.”

“Yes, sorry. This is correct,” I say. Principal Gupta stares at me. I’ve been getting a lot of stares lately. She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, the secretary appears at the door.

“There’s a problem in the cafeteria,” she informs Gupta, who sighs. She looks sharply at us.

“I am going to be gone for ten minutes tops. Please refrain from murdering each other.”

I nod vehemently while Nate tips his chair back farther, his smirk growing. I count backwards from fifty in my head just to make sure Gupta is really gone before wheeling back towards him. I push down on the arm of his chair with all my might. Nate crashes to the ground, a look of shock on his face.

“Jesus Bronwyn.”

“Stop tilting your gosh darn chair” I hiss, my face only a few inches away from his. I can see myself reflected back in his dark blue eyes. I look mildly deranged. He smirks again and I raise my hand. He flinches away. Ha. Take that.

He holds up his hands in surrender, leaning away from me. “Would it make you feel better if I sat on the floor Rojas?”

“Yes, yes it would.”

Nate slides to the ground, and before I can realize what’s happening, he’s pulling me down by the waist. “What the heck?” I ask.

Nate shrugs. “If I have to sit on the floor, then you do too.” He pauses for a beat. “And your legs look good in that skirt.

I slap his shoulder. “Jackass!”

Nate laughs. “She swears!” he announces to an audience of… no one.

“Why is that notable?” I ask, self-consciously tucking my legs underneath myself, ignoring my tingling waist where Nate’s fingers ended up under my shirt.

“Because a minute ago you said ‘gosh darn’ and not even grandmothers would say that Rojas.”

I can feel my face flush, but I cross my arms anyway. My little sister always teases me about how I don’t swear. Not that she swears either. “Is it really a bad thing?”

“Yes.”

I flush more, irritated at myself that Nate’s opinion matters this much to me. He senses that I’m done talking because he looks straight ahead at Gupta’s desk, where we can just make out a picture of her and her daughter.

“How’s your sister doing? Maeve, right?” Nate asks, and I turn to stare at him in shock. My sister Maeve left elementary school with cancer a long time ago. Nate was just starting to know her - they were on the same soccer team - and I don’t expect him to remember her, let alone her name.

“Yeah, it’s Maeve,” I say, my tone considerably softer. Nothing makes me happier than my sister. “She’s okay.”

“She’s in remission right?”

I turn my body so I’m looking straight ahead at him, a concession maybe. My anger is ebbing, and I’m sort of guilty about that bruise on his face. “She is. Thank you for asking.” Not many people do.

“You’re welcome.” What he says next surprises me so much I almost miss what he says: “Want to talk about it?”

I look at him for a moment, at his dark eyes and smattering of freckles and his closed off expression, and I can’t help the feeling that he’s being serious. And I don’t know why that’s so off putting.

I shrug, trying to figure out what to say. “It just sucks, you know?” I finally land on.

Nate nods. “I know.” I think back to his mother’s funeral, the dark, rainy morning where he stood in an old suit, his father too drunk to even show up. I kept thinking about Maeve, about how some day I might have to stand in the same place, shouldering the burden of a million worlds.

I imagine that’s how it feels to lose someone.

I feel the need suddenly, to make those eyes light up so I shift slightly closer to him and pluck at the sleeve of his leather jacket.

“Hey, remember when we were locked in that music room at St. Pi?” I ask.

Nate glances over at me through hooded eyes, his eyelashes unnaturally long. He nods, a half smile on his lips. “I remember. Sixth grade right?”

“Yeah.” I remember that day like it was yesterday. We had been arguing - much like today - in the middle of a music class, and our teacher sent us to the storeroom to sort flutes until we calmed down or something. But we - and the teacher - had forgotten that the door to the store room door locked from the outside. Nate and I were locked in for nearly an hour, which to twelve year olds, felt like forever.

“It was a pretty good day you know?”

“Really? I thought I threw a clarinet case at you.”

“Well you did,” Nate says. ��But you know… it was nice. You’re nice.”

“Aww.”

“But you are violent.”

“Touché,” I admit.

He smiles at me, his eyes soft, and I smile back. I’m about to reach up to touch the bruise on his face when Gupta comes back, breezing through the door like she’s floating. She groans when she sees us.

“Why are you on the floor?”

“Heat rises,” Nate says with a shrug.

“It’s November."

Nate and I just look at each other and smile. We climb back into our seats, and when he tips his chair back, I don’t say anything. And when I say “gosh” instead of “god” when I’m assuring Gupta that “I swear to gosh I didn’t mean to hit him I’m so sorry” Nate doesn’t even bat an eye.

Truce, I guess.

Gupta spends ten minutes talking about pressure and how sometimes we cave but if Nate forgives me it’s okay before she lets us leave. Nate and I mockingly shake hands before we get up and it’s… nice.

The bell has already rung, so we turn in opposite directions, me to physics and him to gosh knows where when he turns to me.

“Hey, want to go to the mall on Saturday? You can buy me a pretzel for my troubles.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll throw something at you?”

Nate grins his Macauley grin. “I think I’ll risk it, Rojas.”

My smile is his answer.

#bronwyn rojas #nate macauley #natewyn #one of us is lying #izzielizzie's fics #queued

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adam-banks2024 · 4 years ago

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Bliss

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Adam steals you during a long study session to go play some hockey like the good old days.

The scent of parchment paper filled the Great Hall, along with that of fresh ink. You could see it shine on the paper if you were seated directly in front of a tall window. The most light comes through during sunrise and sunset, but at the time I’m studying, I wasn’t there during those hours.

It was almost noon on a Saturday, but here I am, studying. These tables were a place I usually enjoyed, mostly because of the large quantities of food, but it soon had become the place that gave me migraines and a strong urge to doze off every now and then.

Ever since I started my sixth year, the advanced potions class had turned into a monstrosity that I wasn’t sure I could handle. At first, it started with a few trips to the hall every month. Then it turned into weeks...and now I’m studying during most of my free time.

I can’t understand why I’m struggling with this class in particular. In all of my other classes, I’m performing above average. Apparently, I just can’t get the hang of “the art that is potion-making.” God, if I hear one more uninspiring word from Snape I might jump from the Ravenclaw tower.

At this point I had been studying for at least four hours now, and I hadn’t even eaten anything that would resemble breakfast. Unless two stale crackers count. The best part about the whole situation is that I had only managed to memorize the ingredients of one potion in my whole time studying. One. So, still, I must persist. Because I do not want to spend a study hall with Snape. I let my grade fall once and suddenly I found out how awkward and unsettling an hour with the professor was. It’s not like he would even help me. He just told me to read from the book and stared at me the whole time. As much as I hate to admit it, having no time to relax was better than spending any extra time with Snape than I had to

As I reached across the table for more ink, a separate hand was already there.

“Hey.”

A long, dark robe hung from his shoulders, and a green and grey scarf was loosely wrapped around his neck. His cheeks and nose had a blush, while the rest of his face appeared icy. He carried a bag with him that had unorganized papers going every which way.

“Oh hey, Adam. How’ve you been?”

Adam passed the vial to me and I dipped my quill. He put his belongings on the table and sat on the bench.

“Pretty good. You?” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the mess.

“Eh. I’ve been better.” My voice was laced with tiredness and a pang of hunger. Nothing that would have been noticed, though.

He paused for a moment and then spoke again. “What’s wrong, Snape got you down because he couldn’t meet for a study session?”

I snorted. Me missing Snape? Yeah, sure, in his dreams. It took me a few seconds to compose myself before I responded. “No. Quite the opposite actually.” Adam hummed in response and gave a small laugh.

Once the noise subsided there was an awkward pause. I was waiting for him to respond, and I honestly didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t had a decent conversation with the kid since the beginning of fifth year. Now we’re almost done with our sixth. I decided that maybe if I returned to my studies, he’d take that as an opportunity to drop the conversation.

I hadn’t even gotten the chance to open my book before he cleared his throat. “Gosh, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” He leaned his arm against the table and rested his head in his palm, fingers twiddling with the feather of my quill.

I sighed, slouching in the process. “Yeah. Social interaction has been foreign to me.”

Adam moved his other arm to the table, resting his head in both hands now. “Well I’m glad that you were just studying and not being torn apart by the whomping willow.”

“Haha, yeah. I think I would prefer the willow.” We both laughed, knowing that potions class was hell. Well, I assumed that he thought it was hell.

“Ahh, don’t say that.” It looked as though he was trying to think of what words to say. Mouth opening and closing, eyes darting everywhere. He must have pieced together what he wanted to say. “You should join me and the guys for some skating.” I shrugged my shoulders, not answering. I knew that if I entertained the idea at all then I wouldn’t be productive the rest of the day, so I decided to read over my notes to get my mind off the subject. Still, Adam persisted. “Maybe take away some of your stress?” I paused. A break sounded really nice, but could I really afford one right now, or even have enough energy?

“I don’t know, Adam. I have an exam on Tuesday.”

Adam stood up and walked around the table with a childlike bounce in his step. “C��mon, y/n, it’ll be fun. Just like old times.” Now he was sitting right beside me, his lip now forming a pout.

“Well...I guess skating for an hour or two couldn’t hurt. What time were you thinking?” He pulled me up. “Right now!”

All of my belongings were still in the hall, but I don’t think Adam had any regard for that. He seemed extremely excited that I had agreed to go skating with him. Well, and other people. Obviously. It’s not like it was just an invitation with him. They probably just needed an extra player so the teams were even. Whatever the case, I was glad to leave my studies for a few hours.

We earned glares from the portraits as we ran through the west wing haphazardly, bumping each other as we went. Giggling filled the air and it was just like it was a year ago. There was no awkwardness, no distance. It was like we had stayed in touch the whole time we were apart. I’ll have to make a mental note to not let that distance between Adam and I grow again.

“So, this is where I leave you.” I smiled at him as I turned to enter the Hufflepuff common room. “Well, for a moment. I don’t really want to get yelled at for being in another house.” Adam shifted his feet.

“Oh. lighten up, cake eater.” He didn’t say anything, just stared at me. “Okay fine. If you’re that much of a stickler to the rules, you can stay out here.” He gave a sheepish grin.

As I walked up the stairs to my dorm, I wondered how that kid was even in Slytherin. He follows the rules, he’s super kind, and he brightens the room. Then again, you find tons of kids who break their house’s stereotypes.

I ended the thought as I reached to grab a coat, scarf, and my skates. It had been at least half a year since I used them, so there was no doubt that I would be a little rusty when I got back on the ice. Once I was all bundled up, I made my way back to the hall where I found an Adam Banks standing in the same position that I had left him.

He gave a small smirk as I exited. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

He hooked his arm through my arm and started to tow me to the frozen lake that was above the Slytherin common room. A blush drew to my cheeks, but I wrote it off as the scarf I adorned. Thankfully he didn’t notice. He was so focused on getting to the makeshift rink that I don’t think anything could have phased him. Not even Dumbledore in a bright, pink dress.

The trek was long, but there wasn’t a lot of snow, so that made the trip more enjoyable. As we neared the lake, I could see the other guys in the distance. I could only make out Connie and Guy because they were holding hands, but there were four other people that I couldn’t see out on the rink.

“Who’s all gonna be there today?” I looked up at Adam. The blush on his nose was even darker now because of the cold.

“Umm, Charlie. He had the idea in the first place. Averman wanted to come too. I think Connie and Guy. And then we asked Julie and Goldberg so we had goalies.” He smiled as he spoke, his love for hockey apparent.

Adam and I had played together when we were first years, but we hadn’t really known each other then. That’s where I first learned how to even skate. While I was still getting the bearings, Adam was already an extremely skilled player. When we were closer he used to tease me about it all the time, but he eventually stopped, and then just stopped talking to me all together. Maybe that’s why I’m so excited to go skating with him. After all, there’s no better feeling than reconnecting with an old friend.

The lake was pretty bare aside from two makeshift goals on the ice, and a few benches on either side. There weren’t any blue or red lines that we would have for actual games. Just plain ice.

“And you’re sure the lake is frozen enough?” Images of me falling through into the chilly water invaded my mind.

Adam shrugged his bag from his shoulder, “I’m a hundred percent sure. And if I’m not, I personally allow you to punch me.”

I rolled my eyes as I started to sit on one of the benches, putting a skate on. “Wow. how convincing.” He didn’t respond, so I just laced up my skates. Looking at the other people skating around, I wasn’t so sure how good I was gonna be. It had been at least three years since I’d really played a game of hockey, and you could clearly tell that these people practiced consistently.

I stood up once I laced my other skate, and started to make my way to the ice. Much to my surprise, my balance wasn’t awful. I could successfully skate and stop without much effort. There were still times where I would wobble or need to regain my balance, but I should be able to hold my own.

Adam brought me a stick and nudged my shoulder. I almost tripped, but I caught myself before anything else could happen.

“You’re real funny, Banks.” I spoke through gritted teeth, still struggling to stay afoot. He offered both of his hands out to help me gain my bearings again. To my surprise, he started skating backwards, pulling me forward. I laughed, “where are we going?”

I could see Adam’s breath as he laughed with me. “To play, silly goose.” An amused expression was painted on his face while speaking, and he gave a big smile after. I started to skate with him instead of just letting him drag me along. After a moment, he just stopped. Because physics exists, I kept sliding and bumped into him. I almost fell but Adam grabbed me by the elbows before I could drop to the ice.

When he pulled me up, our faces were only an inch or two apart. The world around me seemed to fade until it was just Adam. Neither of us had said a word, we just stood there. Staring at each other. It was in that moment when I realized the blades of my skates were slipping on the ice. I didn’t really know why, because the lake was definitely frozen over, like Adam had said. It might have been because my knees had locked

Then I noticed the slight tug on my arms. I realised I was being pulled, not slipping. I was being moved at such a tiny rate that it was almost unnoticeable. Almost. As I neared Adam’s chest, I simply stopped breathing. My heartbeat sped, and I slowly started to lose my hearing. This feeling that I was only now feeling, had it been there the whole day? At the table, running through the hall, walking to the lake. Was it there the whole time? I was just to blind to have seen it. All of the time Adam and I had spent before we lost touch, was the feeling there too?

Once there was no more room between him and I, Adam started to part his lips. My stomach was instantly in knots, and my mind preparing myself for the moments that were to come. Nothing else was said, and Adam closed his eyes. With no hesitation, he closed the gap between us, and pressed his lips against mine.

There were no fireworks. No sparks, no pits in my stomach. Just pure bliss, as I kissed the boy that I met in fifth year.

#mighty ducks #the mighty ducks #adam banks #adam banks x reader #mighty ducks imagine #the mighty ducks imagine #adam banks imagine

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shawnmendesbuddy · 3 years ago

Text

LOVE AND HATE

Summary: Shawn and Y/N have hated each other for a long time now. But lucky for them, a little magic can make all the difference.

Warnings: Drunk Shawn (if that even counts)

A/N: So this is my first imagine, don’t judge me 😬. It’s not perfect, but give me feedback in the comments, thanks!

Sometimes the world is not as it appears. Sometimes people fall in love and tell each other. Sometimes people fall in love and instead of telling each other, they create an intense hate for the other to push their feelings away. But love and hate are so closely related that sometimes feelings get mixed up. Especially when there is a dash of magic involved.

“Pleeeaaaasssseeee let me hold your haaannnd,” Shawn slurred out to Y/N. At first she thought he had been messing with her as one of his cruel jokes, but after a half hour of his persistency, she granted him his wish of following her around the club. Now he wanted to hold her hand and Y/N was not going to let it happen.

Y/N was unsure if Shawn had gotten so drunk that he forgot that they hated each other, or if someone had slipped him a little Amour into his cup. Amour was an extremely rare flower that was said to make you fall in love with someone for a short period of time if inhaled or ingested. Y/N hoped it was the latter because then she would never let Shawn live it down.

You see, Shawn and Y/N hadn’t always been enemies. In fact, all the way up until sixth grade they were best friends. Neither Y/N nor Shawn knows who started it, but one day, their friendship shifted into a hateful thing and they had never gotten past it.

Some people would argue with them and say that the reason they grew distant and hateful toward the other was to push them away so they wouldn’t find out their true feelings about the other person.

But Shawn and Y/N were so engrossed in stopping the other person from finding out their feelings for them, that they couldn’t see that they both felt the same way.

“Please Y/N. I just want to hold your hand so bad. Please.” He begged again. Y/N ignored him and walked away. She heard a whimper behind her, but refused to turn around.

“Y/N you realize that when someone is under the influence of Amour and you’re the person they’re in love with and you leave them alone or ignore them they are in physical pain. It’s like the worst heartbreak you’ve ever felt but ten times worse. And you also suffer low self esteem as one of the side effects if the person you fell in love with ain’t giving you attention?” Laney ranted on.

She had been very intrigued in the Amour plant for as long as Y/N could remember. She knew so much about it, and all she was doing was spewing facts at Y/N to try and make her help Shawn.

Y/N had to admit that she felt a little guilty about making him go thorough that. She cared for him deep down but she couldn’t show it or else he would never talk to her again. She would rather have rude and spiteful Shawn than no Shawn. So Y/N turned back around, sighed, and reached her hand out to Shawn’s , who’s face beamed with the biggest smile she’d seen him give her since right before they started hating each other.

“Aww thank you so much Y/N You’re so beautiful.” Shawn whispered into Y/N’s ear causing shivers to go down her spine. He hadn’t called her beautiful in the longest of times. Her heart stuttered in her chest.

“Can I hug you, please?” Shawn gave her puppy dog eyes and Y/N nodded as he pulled her into a bone crushing hug.

“You’re going to have to bring him home with you tonight, you realize that?” Laney said.

Shawn released Y/N and kissed her forehead. “Ooh, when we get back to your place, can we cuddle?”

Y/N chuckled. “You know, on a normal day Shawn, you hate me.” Shawn’s eyes widened at what Y/N had said.

“How could I ever hate an angel like you? Are you sure that’s not a different Shawn you’re thinking of?”

“I’m positive.”

“Well then I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I promise I’ll never hurt you again. Forgive me?” Y/N chuckled as Shawn pouted.

“You realize that when the Amour loses its effects you’ll break that promise?” Y/N’s voice dropped with sadness. Sometimes she just wanted her best friend back.

“Why?! I don’t understand!” Shawn whined. “I’m in love with you so how could I hate you?”

Now Shawn was genuinely confused. Yes he was under the effects of the Amour, but he had always harbored feelings for Y/N. And he had regretted ever being mean to her or making her feel worthless. His intentions were to make her distance herself but it didn’t work too well since they had the same friends.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He hoped to remember the promise that he made her once the effects wore off. He wasn’t positive who had slipped him the Amour, but he was pretty sure it has been Laney. She had wanted a test subject for years and she must have just got her hands on some Amour and what better way to test then on her best friend’s enemy.

Y/N dragged Shawn out to her car and helped him into the passenger’s seat. He whimpered in pain when she let go of his hand and closed the door. He had to be touching Y/N or it felt like he was being pricked in the heart by a bunch of tiny needles.

“Here you go,” Y/N said offering her hand up to him once she had started the car.

“Thanks,” Shawn said kissing it and putting it back on the middle console with his hand clasped in hers.

“Actually, instead of going to my house, let’s just head to yours. You have a comfier couch anyways.” Y/N said.

Though their hate had stopped them from being friends years ago, Shawn’s friends requested that he invite her to every group hangout that he hosted at his house. Shawn would act out out about it, but secretly would love the fact that Y/N would be at his house.

***

“Hurry up and get in my house. It’s been soooo loooong since me and you have been alone together.” Shawn whined pulling Y/N into his house. “Do you want something to drink? Let’s watch a show and have snacks like we used to do when...before...” Y/N was surprised that even in his state, he could remember what had happened between them or at least sort of.

“Umm, I don’t know if a movie is the best thing to watch,” In truth, Y/N would’ve loved to have watched a movie with Shawn because she missed the old times, but she was worried about what Shawn would try during the movie. Plus, it was already 10:45 and she wasn’t sure she could stay awake much longer.

Shawn pouted his lips at Y/N and she sighed. “I’m putting my foot down because it’s late and I’m tired and taking care of you is not something I’m very fond of doing!” She snapped at Shawn. She didn’t mean to, but she was exhausted and wanted to go to bed.

A tear fell down on Shawn’s cheek. “Umm I’m sorry. I... I don’t want to be an inconvenience, but I guess I must’ve really hurt you and I’m sorry. I thought there might’ve been a little part of you that still cared about me. Umm...goodnight Y/N.”

Y/N felt her heart ache for the boy. She remembered Laney saying that people under the influence of Amour were extremely sensitive to what the person that they “love” says and does.

Shawn trudged over to his room and closed the door. Y/N walked through his apartment—something she’d never done when she’d been over—and found pictures of when they were kids and still friends. She found one where Shawn had his arm wrapped around her shoulders and they were staring at each other in a way she could only define as love.

Y/N shook her head and sighed, walking over to Shawn’s piano. She touched a few of the keys and looked up at the sheet music resting on the piano. ‘Why’ was the name of the song.

Y/N jumped when she heard the clicking of Shawn’s door opening. “I...umm...I’m taking the couch tonight, you can sleep in my bed.” He was dressed in a white t-shirt and black sweatpants and his hair was tousled. Y/N’s heart swooned at the sight.

Y/N shook her head. “I can’t take your bed, this is your house and I’ve been so mean to you.”

“Well I’m not taking the bed so you better so my bed isn’t wasted tonight.” Shawn shot her puppy eyes.

“Fine, but just because you gave me puppy eyes.”

“I uh...” Shawn scratched the back of his neck. Y/N hadn’t seen this nervous side of Shawn in a while. Usually he was really cocky around her. “I left some clothes out for you to change into, but if you don’t, I get it.”

“Thank you, I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Y/N said hugging Shawn and kissing his cheek. “Goodnight.”

***

Shawn woke in the middle of the night in cold sweats. His head ached and he was disoriented. And why was he on the couch? And were those...no it couldn’t have been Y/N’s shoes at the door. But...he didn’t know anyone else that were specially made pink Doc Martins.

So did that mean that Y/N was in his house...right now? Not just for a group hang out? No, that couldn’t be. Shawn shook his head.

He thought back to the night before. He had gone to a club with his friends and Y/N was there. She looked so beautiful, as always. And then...Laney offered to buy him a drink. And...oh gosh!

His memories came flooding back to him and he cringed in embarrassment. How could he have let himself go so far as to cry in front of her? She seemed almost...happy in his memories that he was talking to her. Did she really care that much if he was in love with her? There was nothing more he could do to harm their friendship.

What if...what if this was his only chance to talk to her normally without it being awkward because she thought he was still under the influence of Amour. All he would have to do is act like he did yesterday. It would be easy, right?

Shawn cleared his thoughts and grabbed his phone which was resting on the coffee table. 5:00 AM. He should at least get up and go to the gym or something.

He heard the door to his bedroom opening and he quickly covered his head with blankets and pretended to be asleep. “Ahem,” he heard Y/N clear her throat. It was one of the cutest things ever and Shawn couldn’t help but blush.

He slowly stretched and yawned pretending like he was waking up. He cracked his eyes open and smiled at Y/N. She was dressed in one of his gym shorts and his gym shirt. She looked so adorable in his clothes and Shawn’s heart fluttered.

“Umm good morning. I hope you don’t mind that I’m wearing some of your gym clothes, but I kinda wanted to work out. Do you want to come with me?” Shawn nodded his head eagerly, perhaps too eagerly, even for someone under Amour.

***

“Here, let me pay for that,” Shawn said pulling out a 20 and placing it on the counter at the smoothie shop.

“You shouldn’t have paid for me. I’ve been awful to you. Well you probably don’t even remember. You probably won’t even remember this conversation in a couple of hours. I think the affects are only supposed to last 12 or so hours. Let’s see, you started acting up at around 10:00 so we have,” Y/N checked her watch,”3 hours, give or take.”

Shawn nodded his head trying to act oblivious. He was unsure what to do. Should he just tell her?

“Y/N I’m not under the influence of Amour. Or at least not anymore. I haven’t been since I woke up.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes widening. “Okay then, tell me something that only you would know if you weren’t influenced.”

Shawn scoffed and shook his head. “I’ve made you cry more times than I want to even think about. When we were in sixth grade and I vowed that I would never hurt you, I broke it. So many times. But I thought that by breaking it,” Shawn sighed taking Y/N’s hands into his own. “I was scared. I fell in love with you. I didn’t want to ruin anything. I didn’t understand why I felt nervous around you. I thought that maybe if I distance myself right then, I could fix our friendship later. But the only way you would leave me alone was if I really hurt you. So I did what I thought I had to do. And I’ve been regretting it since then. Every time I would say something mean, I would cry myself to sleep thinking I hurt your feelings. And I kept the act up because you would be mean right back to me and I thought you hated me. But I can’t keep doing that. I’m in love with you. Every song I’ve written about love has been about you. My cards are all out on the table. You can take them or...you know...leave them.” Shawn said voice quieting towards the end.

“I’m so glad to hear that Shawn! So incredibly glad! Was that song on the piano I think it was called ‘Why’, was that about me?” Shawn nodded his head.

Y/N pulled his ear down to her mouth. “Let’s not put each other through hell and let’s get over ourselves.” Shawn smiled and pulled Y/N into a sweet passionate kiss which she returned.

Sometimes love and hate are so similar that who you hate is the person that you love.

#Shawn Mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn Mendes imagines #shawn mendes imagines #shawn fluff #angst imagine #shawnangst #drunkshawn #fluffyshawn #softboyshawn #imagines

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teenwolfnation · 3 years ago

Text

Anything

Part 1

Liam Dunbar x Reader

As if being a teenager wasn’t bad enough, Y/n Argent, who recently moved to beacon hills to live with her uncle, has to struggle through her first full moon by herself. But when the little boy from her past tries to help, will he be eaten alive or will he be strong enough to put up with the true horrors of Beacon Hills? Turns out, it’s a small world after all.

It was your first day at Beacon Hills high school and it was going worse than expected, if that was even possible. You had woken up late, causing your uncle to rush you out the front door before you could even so much as pull your hair into a ponytail or grab a bagel. You desperately tried to save your hair by throwing it into a cute messy bun but it seemed like your hunger would just have to wait until lunch. Your uncle pulled up to the front of the school and parked the car.

“I want you to be careful. The people here, they aren’t always what they seem. But have fun and have a good day,” Argent smiled at you and continued, “And hey, people will talk...about Allison. Just ignore it, okay?” He reached over and gave you a one armed hug.

“Yeah, of course. Have a good day, uncle Chris.” You got out of the car and shut the door. You turned around and inspected your new “home” only to realize that you were the only one outside. Oh crap. You double timed it all the way to the double doors where you paused momentarily and took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

It wasn’t as bad as you thought. People stared, that’s for sure. But once they got a good enough look at you, the people who remembered you from the sixth grade, came forward and greeted you as an old friend. Others, as a war hero. Allison must have been a big deal around here, you thought. It wasn’t until your third period that anything exciting happened.

The classroom door was already open so you decide to go straight inside instead of lingering in the hall until the bell. You were greeted by Mrs. Finch, who instantly recognized you as the new student and sat you at a table halfway down the row closest to the windows. The day was beautiful and the windows were slightly open so you could feel a breeze on your neck. For some reason, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. And sure enough, when you looked up, two boys were standing just outside the door, watching you. They continued to stare even as people pushed past them to get inside. “The people here, they aren’t always what they seem.” Right and what they seem is weird so I can’t imagine what they really are?

You shook your head as the bell rang and the two boys took off to their classrooms. Students were still piling in so you took the opportunity to take out a notebook and a pencil to take notes. You weren’t the biggest nerd but you liked to know some things.

“No way. Y/n?”

You snap your head up so suddenly that in any other circumstance, it would’ve caused whiplash. A boy about your age with bright, blue eyes and a quirky smile looked back at you. An all too familiar face you thought you’d never see after all those years. You had been best friends since kindergarten, until he got sent to a different middle school for sixth grade.

“Liam, oh my gosh, dude.” You said as he settled into the seat next to you. Mrs. Finch welcomed the class and shut the door. Suddenly, a sharp pain in your ears made your head pound. You held your head tightly and grimaced. It was never ending. Every time someone clicked their pen or tapped their foot, it was like it echoed on the loudest volume. You couldn’t take it anymore. You had to get away so you sprinted out of the classroom.

The hallway was empty when you raced out of the room. You didn’t know where to go so you just dropped to the ground, your head still in your hands. The pain was so strong that you felt like screaming. You had just opened your mouth to do just that when someone grabbed your arm and started pulling you with them. You pushed them back and fell to the ground. You caught a glimpse of your hands, or what looked like your hands. You had nails but they seemed more like claws. They were long, dark, sharp.

“What the hell is happening to me!” You yelled. Liam quickly grabbed you and led you to the boys locker room. You ran to the mirrors and started freaking out. Your eyes glowed bright yellow and you could see canines beginning to protrude from your mouth. Liam walks up behind you and gives you a reassuring smile.

“Hey, just breathe, okay. I can help you if you just breathe and calm down.” He stepped back a couple of paces as you turned to look at him, anger flooding your senses.

Did you forget to mention you had anger issues? Oops.

~~~~~~~~~

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Gifs: @goddamnmuses-a

#Liam Dunbar #Liam Dunbar imagines #Liam Dunbar fanfiction #Liam Dunbar gifs #dylan sprayberry #dylan sprayberry gifs #Dylan sprayberry imagines #Dylan sprayberry fanfiction #teen wolf #teen wolf gifs #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf imagines #mtv #mtv series #teenwolfnation

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rosesisupposes · 4 years ago

Text

sweet tea in the summer

in what is definitely a shock to all, i really love folklore.

read on ao3

characters: Patton, Roman, Virgil, Brief Logan, Brief Remy

pairings: platonic to romantic royality; paternal prinxiety; paternal moxiety

word count: 3,980

tags: trans Patton, parental transphobia (including deadnaming, misgendering), parental homophobia, gender euphoria, childhood friends to lovers, heavily closeted trans boy, coming out, endless fluff

a/n: inspired by both “seven” off folklore and "It's Nice To Have A Friend" from Lover

⁂

Part 1: seven

They grow up as neighbors, just a street away, enough that Ro passes Pat's house going to and from school, and they walk together sometimes.

Roman may not be the smartest, book-wise, but well. Some things he just gets. And it does not take much for him, even as a seven-year-old, to pick up on the way Pat tenses up going home, to connect that with the distant yelling he hears some nights.

He finds Pat one afternoon, hiding in a little group of trees. The pink frilly dress is a mess- and Pat's hair is dramatically shorter than it was yesterday.

Pat's also crying in a way that Roman can tell has been going on for a while.

"You're Pat, right?" Roman says, plopping down by the same tree.

Pat looks shocked and surprised but nods.

"I'm Roman! We should play!"

"You want to play with me?" Pat asks.

"Yeah! You seem fun! C'mon, we can go over my house, Papa won't mind!"

Pat flinches. "Are you sure?"

"Yup! Let's go!"

And Pat would question it more but Roman is ebullient and it seems easier to just go along with it. It can't be worse than crying alone.

Roman's Papa is not surprised that Roman's acquired a friend somewhat by force. Virgil just smiles wearily and asks if Pat would like some crackers with banana and cinnamon, too?

Pat nods, and Roman's delighted, already talking a mile a minute about ideas he had for playing pretend!

Virgil eventually cuts into the flow and reminds Roman that he hasn't actually introduced his friend yet.

"Oh! Sorry! Papa, this is Pat!"

"What's Pat short for?" Virgil asks, smile gently at the wary look on Pat's face. "Is it cause he's only got little legs?"

Pat's face splits into an enormous grin at the pun. "It's short for- um. Actually, I don't think I like it very much? It feels icky. I like the Pat part though."

"Can I give you a nickname?!" Roman asks, starry-eyed. "I think, um. Pat pat. Pipat. Patton!"

"Patton?" Pat tries out. "I like that. Patton. Hi, I'm Patton!"

Virgil smiles. "Nice to meet you, Patton. Now, that dress looks very messy, and not easy to play in, would you like to borrow some shorts?"

Patton smiles, eyes tearing up just a bit. "I would love that, are you sure it's okay?"

"Yes! Yes it is!" Roman interjects. "Here, you can come pick out something of mine! They'll probably fit!!"

"Slow down, my dashing little princey," Virgil says, grabbing the back of Roman's tee with the ease of long practice. "You need to finish eating your snack. Patton can come with me and we'll pick something while you finish. Okay?"

"Yes, Papa," Roman says, pouting. He sighs dramatically as he eats his crackers with exaggerated effort.

Patton walks behind Virgil down a hallway covered in dozens of drawings. Many are half-finished, but all clearly show enthusiasm and more than a little glitter.

Virgil grabs a couple of options, taking some of the clothes Roman's just starting to grow out of. Patton is just a bit on the smaller side still. He gives the boy a stack of clothes and shows him the bathroom, where he can change in private.

But, some sixth sense of Dad Instincts tells him he should wait in the hall right by the bathroom door. Just in case. (In case of what, he's not quite sure yet, but-)

Fuck, yup, that is definitely the sound of a little boy trying to cry as quietly as possible.

"Patton? Kiddo, you okay in there?"

Patton sniffles and replies, "I'm fine!"

Virgil frowns. "Can I come in, buddy?"

A pause.

"Oh-okay."

Patton has put on khaki shorts and a blue polo, but his hands are shaking as he looks at his discarded dress.

"Hey, kiddo, what's wrong?" Virgil asks in his softest Papa Voice.

"I'm being bad," Patton whispers. "I ruined my dress and I'm not wearing it and I cut my hair myself and I wasn't s'posed to and-"

Virgil hesitates, then sits on the tiled floor, pulling the sniffling boy into his lap.

"Hey, Pat, it's okay. It's just clothes and hair, okay, kiddo? Do you like how it looks?"

"Yes, but-"

"That's all that matters, buddy. And if you don't like it, hair grows back, clothes can get cleaned. I can clean your dress while you play, so you don't have to bring it home dirty, if you want?"

"I don't want him to be angry," Patton says in a tiny voice. "He scares me when he's angry."

Virgil tries very hard to be level-headed for his son, who really needs a solid presence. Which means he's had seven years of practice to be able to not swear loudly at the fear in Patton's voice, to not go off on a rampage to the Corwan house and give Mr. Corwan a piece of his mind. Instead, he hugs Patton into his chest, shushing quietly, rubbing the little boy's back as he sniffles into Virgil's hoodie.

"You know what we're gonna do, Pat? I'm gonna make sure your dress is all cleaned up, and when we're all done playing, we'll walk you home, okay?" He suppresses the fury from his voice as he adds, "And I'll tell your dad that it was all your idea to make sure you got cleaned up, and that it wasn't your fault it got dirty. How's that sound, kiddo?"

Patton nods, face still buried in the soft material of the black hoodie.

"Let's go, okay? Roman should be done with his snack by now."

Patton holds Virgil's hand on the walk back to the kitchen. Virgil has already half-committed to adopting this boy into their household if Mr. Corwan makes him cry again.

Roman is still in his seat, but barely. One of the crackers is just a pile of crumbs, and there's banana smooshed on his cheek. The minute he sees Patton, he's leaping out of his seat.

"Let's go play! I think we should be pirates! Or knights! Or-"

"Hey, what do we say about playing with guests?"

Roman catches himself. "I should let him have ideas too?"

"That's right, princey. C'mere."

Virgil has to let go of Patton's hand to wipe up Roman's face, because getting him to stand still is a two hand job.

He stands them shoulder-to-shoulder. "Okay, boys, you have a quest today!"

Roman's eyes are shining with excitement already.

Patton looks more concerned. "A quest?"

"Yes," Virgil says solemnly. "Your quest is to make sure your friend is having fun the whole time, and to listen to each other. Okay?"

Roman bounces in place. "Yes! I'm gonna be the best quester ever! Promise, Pat, you're gonna have so much fun!"

Roman grabs Pat's hand and they run out together to the back yard. Virgil sets himself up to clean the dress right by the big window to keep an eye on them, one ear always open for the cries of skinned knees or a-little-too-roughhousing

Patton smiles, face glowing as he listens to Roman's idea of how they can be pirate-witch-knight-ninjas.

It's nice to have a friend.

⁂

Part 2: thirteen

"Psstt!!! Patty!"

Patton turns to see Roman grinning hugely from his locker across the hallway. He waves frantically to get him to come over.

"What's up, buttercup?"

"It's here! Papa texted me, it just arrived!"

Patton freezes, eyes wide. "Already? Really? You mean it?!"

Roman nods, grinning hugely. "So you're coming over today. We'll say it's for that bio project if we have to, kay?"

Patton brushes at his eyes, making sure he's not tearing up visibly. He surprises Roman with a fierce hug. "Thank you, Roro."

Roman hugs back just as tightly, but he responds in a whisper so quiet that only his friend can hear. "You deserve it, Patton."

Patton can't stop smiling, even as his eyes feel like they're getting misty. "Oh gosh, how am I supposed to focus on algebra now? Can we just skip the last two periods?"

"Pat Corwan, 8th Grade Class President, wants to skip classes?" Roman replies with a mock gasp. "I'm shocked and appalled. And no, I have long-block scene study, there's no way I'm skipping."

"I know, I know. I'll see you soon!" Grinning, Patton walks away to his class, practically floating.

His desk-mate takes one look as he sits down and arches a brow. "So, Corwan, did he finally ask you out or what?"

"What?" Patton asks, barely aware he'd spoken.

Logan Williams sighs. "Sanders. Did he ask you out? You're smiling even more than normal. If I sunburned easy, I'd be concerned right now."

"Um, no? Ro and I are just best friends," Patton replies.

Logan rolls his eyes. "Best friends? You go to his house half the time after school, everyone's been waiting for you two to officially start dating."

"I-"

"Actually, if you were waiting for an excuse, you should run for Homecoming King & Queen together, I have a bet on that being the timing."

Patton frowns. "I have no plans to run for homecoming anything. I'm on the selection committee, that would be favoritism."

Logan shrugs. "Suit yourself. My only interest is in getting to finally hear a different topic of speculation during the lunchtime gossip mill. But you should probably know-"

Patton looks apprehensive. "Know what?"

Logan adjusts his glasses. "Half the grade already calls you The Future Mrs. Sanders."

Patton swallows a lump in his throat, fingers fidgeting with the material of his skirt. "I don't care what they all call me. He's my friend."

Patton turns his focus back to the lesson, but he keeps spacing out and missing parts, thinking about Logan's comments. But soon enough he's through algebra, and history passes without incident, and he's on his way to the Sanders house on Roman's bus.

As they walk through the door, Roman trills loudly, "Paaapaaaa!!!!!!! We're hoooOOOmmmeee!"

"I think I missed the part where I raised a rooster instead of a Roman," Virgil grumbles, emerging from his home office. "Heya, Patton!"

"Hi, Virgil," Patton says, grinning happily as Virgil immediately opens his arms for a hug. It's been years since he's even tried to call Roman's dad 'Mr. Sanders', because Virgil objects that it makes him sound like some corporate square.

"You wanna see it now or do you need to decompress first?" Virgil asks.

"Now please!" Patton says, and Roman claps and runs to the entrance hall to find the package waiting there.

Practically bouncing, Roman hands the package to Patton as he goes into the spare bedroom that's practically become his. His hands shake a little as he tears open the packaging.

"Patton? Kiddo, you okay in there?" Virgil asks through the door.

Patton emerges, tears leaking down his cheeks. He's changed into some of the clothes he keeps here, plus his new addition - pants, a polo, and his brand-new binder.

Roman bursts into applause, wolf-whistling and cheering. Virgil just smiles. "How's it feel, kiddo?"

Patton smiles at them, eyes damp. "It feels perfect. Thank you so much for letting me get it sent here."

"Anytime you need, Patton," Virgil says. "You know you're an honorary Sanders. Now, do you remember the safety tips we talked about?"

"No sleeping in it, or wearing for too many hours at a time, and try not to exercise in it?"

"That's right, kiddo. And you can keep it here until you feel comfortable wearing it out and about."

Roman hugs Patton carefully, not squeezing as tight as he normally does. "You look very handsome, Pat."

Patton just blushes and hugs back, amazed by the new feeling of the less-squish-in-the-front of the hug.

"Also I know it's our excuse but can you actually help with me bio, I can't get the hang of the cycles."

"Anytime, Roro."

Much later that evening, after a spaghetti dinner and several hours of 'homework' that actually accomplished one half hour's worth, Patton leans back against the bedspread with a happy sigh.

Roman looks up, eyes glowing in contentment. "Hey, you. You good?"

Patton looks down at his flatter chest and smiles. "Yeah, it's- I'm so happy, Ro. Thank you again."

"It's what you deserve, Pat," Roman says earnestly. "You deserve to have your family fully embrace and accept you, too, but until then you've got us."

Patton makes grabby hands, and Roman scoots over to hug him tightly. They don't always need words.

"Ro-" Pat says quietly, a thought suddenly popping into his head and out his mouth. "Did you know that half the grade calls me The Future Mrs. Sanders?"

Roman stiffens, not making eye contact. "I've, uh. Heard that once or twice, yeah. I know it sucks, Pat, but I don't know how to discourage it without outing you."

Patton takes a breath. "That part- I mean, I'm used to it. But-"

Roman sits back, looking concerned. "You know you deserve to have people use your pronouns and honorifics, right? It's not too much to ask. It won't be an imposition, I promise, it's just courtesy-"

"I know, Roro, thank you. No, I um. Yeah, that Mrs. part is still an unyeah, but-"

Roman waits, a little confused.

Patton closes his eyes. "Does the other part bother you? The part where they're implying that we- that we'd get, you know."

"Married?" Roman squeaks out.

"Yeah, that."

"I- I mean, you'll be my best friend no matter what but um, maybe, occasionally, Ithinkaboutthattooyeah?" Roman says all in a rush, blushing furiously.

Patton opens his eyes to see Roman's red face, then reaches out and takes Roman's hand. "Oh thank goodness."

Roman stares at their interlocked hands for a long moment, face growing steadily redder. "Really?" he manages to squawk out. "You- you really- me?"

"Who could I possibly like more than you, Roro?" Patton replies, and he's blushing too, now. "I- I love you, Roman. As much as I know how."

Roman makes a strangled sound of delight, only able to smile and nod. He swallows, trying to compose himself, and whispers, "Patton - will you be my boyfriend?"

Patton is fairly sure he could never contain more warm fuzzies than he does right now, hearing "boyfriend" applied to himself, from this wonderful, wonderful boy that has been his best friend for 6 years.

"Only if you're be mine too, buttercup," he whispers, happy tears sparkling in his eyes for the second time today.

⁂

Part 3: twenty-one

Roman watches Patton moving around their dorm room as he paces. In his head Roman counts how many minutes have elapsed and decides it’s time to interfere.

“Honeycake, you can always decide not to, you know that, right?”

Patton flashes him a distracted smile. “I know, sweetheart, but that’s the problem. I want to, I’m just-“ He twists his hands nervously. “I’m nervous, Ro.”

“Would it help to talk over why you’re nervous, or do you want to not think about it?”

Patton paces again, back and forth, then sighs. “I’m going to do this eventually, so I might as well do it now. I want to remember tomorrow without regret.”

Roman stands and grabs Patton’s fidgeting hands, holding them in his and looking directly into Patton’s eyes. “Let’s do this, Pat. I��m here for you, always.”

Patton smiles weakly. “Can you dial, I’m going to chicken out.”

Roman nods, and unlocks Patton’s phone. In just a couple buttons, it’s ringing on speaker.

“You’ve reached the Corwan residence.”

Patton takes a breath, and says, “Hi, Dad.”

“Ah, good, we were beginning to worry we’d miss the ceremony tomorrow!”

“Yeah,” Patton says, a little shaky. “Well, I’ve asked, and there will be tickets for you and Mom at the box office.”

“Thank you. You know how excited we are to watch you graduate! We are so proud of you, Patricia.”

Patton flinches, and Roman immediately grabs his hand and squeezes.

“Um, yeah. I- I don’t know if we’ll have time to go out after, there’s a lot of stuff for the program and student leadership-“

”If you think we’re not going to take our daughter out to dinner on her big day, you’ve got another thing coming!” he replies in a jovial tone. Patton flinches again.

“Oh- okay then, Dad. I’ll see if there’s time. Um. See you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait!”

Patton hangs up, head bowed. Roman immediately starts to peppering his face in kisses.

“My sweet, dear man, you are so brave and wonderful and also I will absolutely make those tickets disappear if you’d like them not to come after all.”

Patton leans into Roman’s chest with a shaky chuckle. “No, I think it’s time, love. I don’t want to keep hiding.”

The next day, the campus is a zoo, filled with families and balloons and people trying to find an open spot for photoshoots in their caps and gowns.

Roman and Virgil have teamed up to convince Patton to be subjected to full model treatment, Roman earnestly whispering “Make it fashion!” from behind Virgil’s clicking camera. Patton’s laughing as he tries to balance on the hippo statue that is their school’s mascot.

Then, though, it’s time, and Roman and Patton wave to Virgil as they file into the huge staging area with their classmates. They’re a sea of maroon robes, brightened by cords and stoles in various colors for all the school’s affinity groups and activities. Patton’s got so many, he looks like he’s wearing a rainbow. He fidgets with his colored stole. “Ro-“ he says, grabbing for his boyfriend’s hand.

“Patton, my light, you look amazing,” Roman says, leaning in close so only Patton can hear his murmur. “You are so, so strong, and so brave, and I love you to the moon and to Saturn.”

Patton smiles into Roman's shoulder, and manages to relax. They share a quick, chaste kiss, then separate to their halves of the alphabet.

Luckily, as they file in, their seats end up just across the aisle from each other, and Roman keeps turning to blow kisses.

The good thing about being in the Cs is that Patton doesn’t have too long to sit and let his nervousness fester. He walks up to the stage in procession, seeing Roman mouth “You’ve got this!” from the crowd of graduates.

“Cosgrave, Alicia” walks across the stage to the cheers of her family and accepts her diploma. Patton takes a deep breath.

“Corwan, Patton!”

He pushes his various cords out of the way to reveal his stole’s colors: stripes of light blue, pink, and white. He squares his shoulders, and walks across the stage. He’s not looking at the crowd, but he recognizes Virgil’s whooping.

He accepts his diploma, shakes the university president’s hand, and poses for the staged picture all before allowing himself to look up into the bleachers.

He can immediately see the Corwans. They don’t look mad, just- confused. His dad seems to be studying the program intently. He turns back to his seat, to see Roman’s smile glowing from across the aisle.

“I’m so proud of you,” he mouths, eyes shining, and Patton lets out a relieved sigh. He did it. And Roman’s here. It will be okay, no matter what happens next.

The rest of the ceremony melts away, and all Patton really remembers is Roman pulling faces at him as the speakers drag on, and him having to muffle his giggles.

The minute they’re standing to proceed out, Roman leaves his place in line to sneak over and slip his hand into Patton‘s. He sticks by his side until they’re out in the meeting area. Patton has a deathgrip on Roman’s hand with nervousness as he looks around the crowd.

Virgil finds them first, and Roman’s very flamboyant uncle Remy is there, too, stealing Roman’s mortarboard to pose dramatically.

Then Patton hears the polite cough behind him that he knows is his mom. He turns, Roman’s hand in his still, with the Sanders brothers at his back.

“Why did they say your name like that?” his dad asks bluntly.

Patton straightens. “Because that’s the name on my diploma.”

“Patricia, what’s the meaning of this-“

“It’s Patton, dad. I changed it legally.”

“Patty, what are you saying?” his mom asks, frowning.

Patton plucks at his stole. “I’m trans, mum. I’m a boy. And I was always meant to be one, no matter how many dresses I wore.”

His heart is in his throat, beating like mad, but Roman’s squeezing his hand in pride and Virgil and Remy are behind him. He can practically hear Remy sliding his glasses down his nose to glare at the Corwans.

”And you’re okay with this- this delusion?!” Mr. Corwan demands, turning to glare at Roman.

“Absolutely,” Roman replies immediately. “He’s been my boyfriend for 7 years, and I love him as he is and exactly as he is.”

”This- no, that’s ridiculous, Patricia,” his dad spits out. “No daughter of mine is going to be part of this trender nonsense. I thought that was clear.”

“You made your position clear he was seven and scared to go home,” Virgil cuts in acidly. His hand is warm and comforting on Patton’s shoulder. “You made it clear that he’d have to hide himself from his own parents because they couldn’t find a way to love their child as a son.”

Mr. Corwan sputters, turning purple, as Mrs. Corwan turns white.

“Well- you can say goodbye to any help from us-"

“What help?” Remy drawls. “Ya boy’s graduated, been hired, and signed a lease without you. He doesn’t need your assistance even if you wanted to give it.”

Mrs. Corwan purses her lips. “Well, I hope that he,” she says tightly, exaggerating the pronoun in what is clearly intended as mockery, “is prepared to go through life without a family.”

Roman takes a step in front of Patton at that. “You’re not ashamed to say that to your only kid? Really? I’ve got news for you, ma’am. He’ll always have a family.”

“What, you mean that?” she asks with a derisive sniff at Virgil and Remy still holding Patton’s shoulders.

“No,” Roman says, suddenly calm. “I mean this."

He turns, smoothly sinking to one knee as he smiles up into Patton’s shocked-into-smiling face.

“Patton Corwan, my gorgeous man, love of my life, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

All the heaviness in his chest melts away and the knots in his stomach dissolve as Patton smiles down into Roman’s adoring gaze. “Oh Roman,” Patton says. “I would love nothing more.”

“I will not stand for-“ Mr. Corwan gets out, but Patton’s gaze locks onto his.

“Congrats. You don’t need to. You already said no daughter of yours will be like me, and you were right. You’ve made it clear I’m not your family. And as long as that’s how you feel, I don’t want to be.” Before he can sputter out an answer, Patton adds, “Plus, it’s way too late to object. Should’ve been there over Christmas if you wanted to, now you’re gonna have to forever hold your peace.”

“I’m- what?”

“Can I tell them?” Roman says, standing with a huge grin. Patton nods, starting to laugh.

“Patton asked me to marry him way back in December, the minute he got his early job offer. It was a beautiful ceremony. It even had the kind of dress I’m sure you were picturing, and I wore it particularly well, if I do say so myself.”

“Oh, rough luck babes, looks like your invites got lost,” Remy drawls. “Well, maybe you’ll get to get to your other kid’s wedding. Oh wait.”

Virgil grins. “You two spouses want to go get graduation lunch now? My treat. I think they’re gonna need a minute.”

“Or a couple thousand,” Remy mutters.

Patton turns away from his parents, beaming at his family. “That would be wonderful, Papa.”

⁂

#royality #trans patton #ts patton #ts roman #ts virgil #paternal prinxiety #paternal moxiety #transphobia #gender euphoria #Papa Virgil #found family #roses writes fanfic #do it for dani

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koraesdoodles · 3 years ago

Photo

@forduary Week 4: Hug it out

Ford sat on the bed hesitantly, looking at the floor while his brother pretended that he didn’t know Ford was there. Eventually, Stan peeked over the blanket and Ford began to talk.

“I’m still mad.”

“-- I didn’t -- !”

Ford forgave him a day later.

When they were ten, Stan came home sunburnt and angry. Ford had spent the day working on a new project, and didn’t realize why Stan was giving him the cold shoulder until he glanced at the clock.

“Oh my gosh, Stan I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize it was so late I --”

“Whatever, Poindexter.”

“No, I mean it! Did you go to the fair? Did you see any clowns?”

“Leave me alone.”

“Stan --”

“Just do your stupid science and leave me alone, Stanford!” Stan shoved his brother out of the way and slammed the door to their room, leaving Ford in the hallway, feeling like a jerk.

He apologized again that night. Stan said he forgave him. But it wasn’t until a week later that he actually started acting normal again.

He just needed a chance, but nobody was willing to give him one.

Stan was curled up in a ball under the blankets. Ford went to shake his shoulder but found that Stan was already shaking.

“Stanley?” Ford’s voice made Stan jolt.

“Morning already?” Stan’s voice was more gruff than usual, though he was clearly trying to sound normal.

“Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Now go away, I don’t have on any pants.”

“You never wear pants, Stanley.”

“. . . Right.” A cough. “Well I’ll be up in a minute. Go get breakfast Poindexter.”

Ford grabbed the blanket and pulled it off Stan’s head. Stanley desperatly tried to hold onto it, but Ford moved quickly.

Stan’s eyes were red rimmed, and tears had left tracks down his cheeks. Ice slid into Ford’s belly and he immediately reached for Stanley, but pulled back when his brother flinched.

“It’s nothing. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Stanley, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!”

Ford’s impatience cracked a little at the blatant lie. “I can see that.”

Stan flushed and looked away. Ford didn’t say anything. Partially because he didn’t know what to say. How was he suppsoed to make Stan tell him what was wrong? Even before everything, when they were kids, getting Stanley to talk was like pulling teeth. Maybe he could plug in Project Mentem and --

“Um,” Stan coughed. “Did I ever, um. Did I ever say sorry?”

Ford stared at him. “Beg pardon?”

Stan looked away. “For the project. And um. The portal. And making you a criminal in this dimension when you didn’t even get the fun of doing anything.”

“I --”

“I just uh. I remembered some stuff. About you and grudges. Did you really not talk to me for three days because I spilled paint on some books?”

“. . . They were really important books, Stanley.”

“It was a stack of Dr. Suess!”

“Ma got them for me.”

“Yeah, but that was more my reading level than yours . . .”

“That’s not the point --”

“I’m sorry.” Stan swallowed. “I’m uh, sorry about the books.”

Ford sighed and sat down on the bed. “I forgave you.”

“. . . I know.”

“No, you don’t.” Ford didn’t mean to sound snapish so did his best to moderate his tone. “I can admit that I may have the tendency to hold grudges.” He ignored Stan’s huff. “But when I forgive someone, that means I forgive them, Stanley. I’m not thinking about it anymore, I’m not focused on it, it’s done.” He turned toward Stan and stared him in the eye. “Sometimes I need time, sure but . . . I’ll always forgive you, Stanley.”

Stan swallowed and tried to look away, but Ford didn’t let him. Not this time. He grabbed his brother’s shoulder and shook him, forcing Stanley to once more meet his eye. “I will always forgive you, Stan.”

Stan took a deep breath, and then threw his arms around his brother. Ford returned the embrace. He held on like he should have held on forty years ago when Stanley had been kicked out of the house. He held on like he should have the first time he saw Stan after ten years. He held on like he wished he’d held on when he first stepped through the portal.

“I just don’t want to mess things up for you anymore,” Stan’s gruff voice was barely more than a croak. “I keep messing up, and I don’t mean to, but it’s my fault, and I’m sorry.”

Ford tightened his hold on Stan’s shoulders and buried his face in Stan’s neck. “It happens,” he mumbled. “It’s okay.”

“I missed you so much, Sixer.” The sobs are clear in Stan’s voice now. Ford doesn’t think he can hold his brother any tighter than he already is.

“I love you, Stanley. And I’m sorry too.” Ford was not crying. Because of the two of them, Stanley was the one who cried most often, no matter how much he tried to deny it, and Ford had already cried once in the past week and he wasn’t going to do it again.

“It’s okay, Stanford.” Stan was smiling now, Ford could hear it in his voice. “I’ll always forgive you too.”

(This art was used as a reference)

#forduary #forduary week 4: hug it out #stanford pines #stanley pines #stan twins #stangst #hurt/comfort #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fanfic

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randommusicalfluff · 4 years ago

Text

Truth Or Dare

Editted by: @lessangrypapercollector

Requested by: @randomgirlwholovestoreadatthree

---------------------------------------------------

Thomas didn't exactly know what had gotten him into the situation he was currently in. He had somehow gotten stuck in a window, trying to impress his boyfriend and best friend. Both of them were laughing at his misfortune, much to Thom’s annoyance.

It all started a few hours before this moment. Thomas, James, and Alex we're all hanging out at Thom's place, playing board games and building a fort. They talked,joked, and poked fun at each other. That is, until the dreaded game was mentioned.

What game could possibly be this horrible that it made James shudder? The worst and most brutal game to ever exist! Your life was at the hands of your friends! How horrifying! It was….Truth or dare! Well, at least the game got that bad for the trio. Despite this fact,Alex had attempted to start the game.

"Truth or dare? Oh no, no no no. There is no way in hell I'm playing that damned game." Thomas said with a dramatic flare and crossed his arms, squinting at his boyfriend who just rolled his eyes.

"Oh stop being dramatic!" Alexander groans and shakes his head, rolling over onto his back and looking at the ceiling of the pillow fort. "Truth or dare isn't that bad!"

"That's coming from someone who hasn't had to lick a toilet seat. " James dead pans and stares Alex down, who laughs nervously.

"That- doesn't sound too bad! C’moonnn! There's literally nothing else to doooo!" He pouts a little, which got a chuckle from Thomas, and he shakes his head.

"Y'know what? Fine, I'll play."

"Traitor!" James huffed, looking a bit betrayed.

"Oh stop being such a chicken, Jem."

The boy in question scrunches his nose up at the immature insult, furrowing his eyebrows and crossing his arms. "Really? Name calling? We're stooping that far? Fine. I'll play. But just to see you two suffer." He cracks a smile, which gained worried chuckles from the other two

So the game begun! The three went around, calling truths or dares; mainly dares because they're definitely not chicken or anything. Some of which included Alex managing to fit a whole raw egg in his mouth, Thomas having to show them a video of him back in the sixth grade singing "Chandelier" into a hair brush, and James being forced to allow the other two to do his makeup. This, of course, ended disastrously, and Jefferson and Hamilton nearly choked from how hard they laughed at the sight.

After a few more rounds James turned to the tall southerner and asked the dreaded question, "Truth or dare, Thommy?"

"Truth."

That response got a loud gasp from both of them and a scoff following it from the asker.

"Alright if you wanna play that game, is it true that you're a coward?"

"Me? A coward? No! How could you even ask that question?!"

"Then prove it, coward."

James’ challenge made Thomas' face a little red in anger. He marched into the main part of the living room, opened a window, and started to climb through.

See, this wouldn't seem dangerous to a normal person; until you take into account how big Thomas was for a fifteen year old. He couldn't possibly make it through that window, and the other two quickly noticed that.

"U-Uh.... honey? I don't t-think that's a- uhm...a good idea-" Alex laughs nervously as he watches his boyfriend climb head first through the window. Thomas ignored him though, determined to prove them wrong. After a few more seconds of wiggling and struggling on Thomas’ part, James and Alex were astonished.

".. He actually made it through. What the fuck." James blinks as he watches the spectacle.

Everything was fine and dandy until Thomas let out a small grunt as his hips hit the metal frame of the window. That made him...nervous. He immediately tried to wiggle and squirm his way though, or at least back into the room, but much to his dismay, he couldn't.

"Uuhh.. guys..” he says sheepishly, “I think I'm stuck."

There was silence in the room after he told them about his ordeal before those who weren’t stuck in the window started tolaugh their asses off. Thomas blushed bright red and cursed his choice of friends under his breath..

After a few seconds longer they calmed down and Alex let out a small snort before walking over to the bottom half of his boyfriend."Alright, let's get this idiot free."

James grins and a mischievous glint could be seen in his eyes. "Wait wait wait,” he says, putting a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I have a better idea." Thomas really, really didn't like his tone.

"What I'm sure your dearest boyfriend has yet to inform you of, is how dreadfully ticklish he is." James starts and stands on one side of the boy mentioned. He wiggles his fingers into Thomas’ exposed side, which caused a stream of giggles to pour from him. "See? Terribly ticklish. Oh, but don't let him fool you, he's sensitive just about everywhere~" He purrs and squeezes Thomas' thigh a good few times. This made Thomas laugh loudly, a flurry of snorts, pleas, and threats mixed in with his hysterics.

"I had no idea he was ticklish...and this whole time I've been basically letting him tickle me with no charge or consequence! Oh no no… this just won't do~" Alexander squeezes one of Thom's hips, which got a loud shriek from him.

"WAHAHAIT! Wa-Wahahait- Alex!! PleHEHEHEASE-!" The Virginian shrieks out as he felt nails start to lightly skim over his hips, the gentle feeling being unbearable for the poor kiddo. Alex smirks and keeps it up.

"Huh? What was that? I couldn't hear you over all this laughter! Such a shame, such a shame." He tsks as he draws agonizingly slow and light shapes into his boyfriend's hips. Meanwhile, James was wiggling his fingers across the small portion of exposed stomach, cooing at Thomas.

The combined feelings we're enough to get him laughing his heart out, squirming and trying to wiggle away from the feeling but to no avail. "NONONO- IHIHIHIHIM SOHOHOHOHORRY! DOHOHOHONT-"

"Don't? Don't what? " James hums in response, knowing good and well what kind of reaction he'd gain from his best friend. As he had predicted, Thomas let out an embarrassed squeak and his laughter getting louder.

"YOHOHOHOU AHAHALREADY KNOHOHOW Y-YOHOHOU JEHERK! "

"But do I? I really don't think I do.. "

"Oh.. oh my gosh.. can my dearest not say tickle? " The islander gasps dramatically, before grinning widely as he could hear the embarrassment on his boyfriend's voice. "Oh poor baby~ I'm gonna hold this above your head forever!"

All Thomas could really do at this point was hide his face in his hands and laugh his heart out as he was teased and tickled out of his mind. No matter how much he begged or pleaded with the two lers, it seemed to fall upon deaf ears.

They soon stopped as they heard Thomas' laughter fall silent, thankfully, though. The two gently turn him on his side and pull him right out of the window, easy as that. The poor boy was left in a giggly and out-of-breath mess on the floor; James scurried off to grab some water while Alex rubbed his back and comforted him.

When Jem came back Thomas quickly downed the water and sat up, wrapping his arms around himself and letting out a tired sigh. "Can we just.. nap for now?" He asked; all the tickling had worn him out and the weather definitely wasn’t helping his sudden sleepiness. His question got a chuckle from the other two, but they nodded, and all ventured back to the pillow fort.

#hamilton tickle #tickling #tickle #mango fics #tickle fic #lee!jefferson #ler!hamilton #ler!madison #Hamilton fic

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depressednyikes · 3 years ago

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wow, look at all those thoughts!

i mean...depressed thoughts but they’re thoughts right??? honestly, this isn’t really meant for anyone to ever see. I’ve been dealing with depression and self hatred since sixth grade at least, and i’m heading into my second year of college here. eight to nine years of on and off self hatred and depressive episodes SUCKS, but the thought of opening up to someone is more terrifying than the thought of continuing to dealing with this. Like fucking hell, it didn’t start off that bad. Sure, maybe the occasional thought of “god everyone in this room hates me right now” or “fuck i made too big of a deal about that, now they’ll hate me forever. maybe i should’ve just stayed quiet and let them have it. It’s not even that important, why did i insist on this thing?” But good gosh, did it escalate over the course of two years. Eighth grade, I can remember some days very clearly. Occasionally I remember looking up clean ways for suicide, something that wouldn’t leave behind a mess for everyone else. Something that’d be quick and easy because I knew I wouldn’t want it to be drawn out. Better chance of someone finding out the longer it went on.

I mean...I obviously never tried. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here, writing this blog. I probably would’ve ended up with therapy...who knows what else. Despite that, I remember a few solid years continuing into high school where I just wanted to die some days, and just...y’know...be in heaven. I believe in heaven and the christian god and all that, and honestly a lot of days that felt like a much better alternative to the hell on earth that my brain would give me. still gives me today, but not to such a huge magnitude.

And when I say hell on earth, I fucking mean it. Just...every second of ever day it felt like my brain found something to criticize. “oh look at that, you took that part that someone else wanted in the play away by just asking for it. stupid idiot, you should’ve just let them have it, look at their disappointment. Their happiness is a lot more important than yours” “You’re just dragging down everyone around you, wouldn’t it be better if you weren’t around?” “honestly, death would be best. I bet you that nobody around you would care, in fact they might be relieved.”

Honestly, I’m sure that’s not even close to half of the things that my self hating brain managed to come up with.

And being in cross country freshman year didn’t help. Honestly, I think that’s when I really started to take the nosedive to rock bottom. I was never and still am not a hardcore runner, and that’s what literally everyone else on that team was. A hardcore runner. I remember some days after/during practice I’d just collapse on the benches in the locker room and fucking break down into tears. I was dragging the team down. I felt that the only reason I had people being friendly to be was out of pity, and if I was off the team literally no one would miss me. In fact, I thought at that time that they’d be delighted for me to be off the team so my slow times wouldn’t be dragging everyone else down at meets. Honestly, I still kinda feel that way but I still have a fucked up brain so I can’t be relied on to be reliable about this sort of stuff. I’d ask people on the team, but hell the few that I’m still in contact with and know about this stuff think it’s gone and taken care of. I can’t bring myself to ask and cause them to worry about me when I have this semi under control.

Back to eighth grade.

I ended up telling one person, and I didn’t even mean to tell them. At that point, I was basically crying myself to sleep as my brain bullied me every...single...night. Like I said, beginning of the worst. Suicide looked inviting. I felt like I was at the bottom of a well and there was no was of getting out. Below me was black waters, sucking me down. The walls were made out of glass, reflecting my insecurities and self hatred back at me, the walls slick and impossible to climb up towards that tiny patch of light above me.

Depressing poetry aside, I probably owe something to that camp counselor. It was late, probably at least 10:30 at night, and hell she could have just ignored me. I had it under control bc no one needs to know how bad my mental health is, and that still held true in the past. But nope, she noticed and took me outside. She sat down on that cold concrete step with me and let me cry it all out as my brain hurled more insults at me, and endured my punctured, all over the place explanations, how much I hated myself, and the feeling of meaning nothing to people. I don’t know if I explicitly said anything about being slightly suicidal, but probably not. I mean...i think that it was at least and hour and a half she sat out there. and she just listened...and didn’t jump in right away with empty reassurances which I think was the best things she did. Like I said, I probably owe something to her. I guess, wherever she is and whatever she’s doing with her life, I hope it’s going well.

it’s midnight here...typing out my story even if no one ever looks at it is taking longer than I thought. whenever i feel up to it i guess i’ll finish it. But gosh, this brought up some old feeling and memories and tbh I just need to sleep, get my emotions under some semblance of control here.

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reddieorrnot · 5 years ago

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short soulmate au where richie is a little bitch :)

“So... I finally heard him last night.”

Eddie snapped his head up from his book and glanced over to Beverly. The redhead was perched on her bed, looking right back at him. It took him a second to realize what she meant, his eyes widening when he finally connected the dots.

“Your soulmate?” He exclaimed, setting down the piece of fiction and crawling up to her bed to sit beside her body. She giggled at his excitement and gave him a small nod, her hair moving along with her head. “Well? How’d you do it?”

Everyone knew that when the time came, you could hear what your soulmate was hearing. It all came at its own moment though, if it was too early in one’s life or one of the soulmates weren’t ready yet, you wouldn’t be able to hear anything. But if it was the right time, communication could be done by talking out loud. The idea always excited Eddie, and it made him a tiny bit nervous at the same time. He, like most people, was a little anxious that their soulmate wouldn’t like them. Beverly always told him that was impossible because it would be his literal soulmate. He was also scared he would just never hear anything, that he just didn’t have a soulmate.

Late at night every day, when he was positive his mother had fallen asleep, Eddie would lie in his bed looking up at the ceiling. He would close his eyes, and put all his focus on his hearing, listening to everything around him. He would try to find some sort of noise that sounded like it couldn’t be coming from his room, like some sort of cough or sneeze or anything. He would have taken anything at that point. And when he didn’t hear anything, Eddie would gently whisper into the night a small greeting, just in case his soulmate was too shy to speak first. He would do that daily and had done it for a while. But there was a consistent rate of failure.

His personal disappointment, fortunately, did not cloud his happiness for Beverly, though.

“Well, I just knew somehow when I started hearing him. Like even if there had been a highway next to me, which there wasn’t because I was just in my room, I would have heard even the quietest pin drop from his side.”

Eddie listened to her, lips parted in a tiny gasp, hanging onto her every word. Maybe it was because her words were so enchanting, or because she was so beautiful, but Eddie couldn’t tear his attention away no matter what. Beverly and he had been friends since sixth grade, now going onto 5 years as they started Junior year. Eddie would never understand why such a cool girl would ever want to be his friend. She wore the coolest clothes, listened to the coolest music. And Beverly even carried around gum and a small perfume for after she smoked, just for Eddie’s behalf. It was incredibly kind, and made Eddie feel like his opinion mattered. Beverly was one of the best things to ever happen to him.

If I wasn’t gay, Eddie thought, I would wish for you to be my soulmate.

“He was writing a poem, something about the seasons, and I guess I must have heard him proofreading it out loud. I was so freaked out, Eddie, you don’t understand,” By this point, Beverly had sat up and now was facing Eddie, clutching his hands on hers. “And then, I finally spoke. I was like, ‘Hello?’ and he immediately stopped talking. Probably from like... shock or something.”

“Then what?”

“Then he replied, and he couldn’t believe he could hear me! He’s got the sweetest voice, I swear. We stayed up so late talking, just about ourselves and our lives. He actually doesn’t live too far...” Beverly’s gaze drifted from Eddie to out her window, it reminded Eddie of some cinematic moment, the way the light hit her eyes that you could see them twinkling.

“Bev, what’s his name?”

She giggled again, “Oh gosh, I forgot to tell you that part, didn’t I? His name is Ben, Ben Hanscom.”

Eddie smiled and brought Beverly in for a hug, “I’m so happy for you.”

“I'm just not quite sure if he can always hear me, or if he just tries to? It’s all very peculiar.”

“You’ll figure it out, you always do.”

She pulled away from the hug and took Eddie’s hand within hers once more. “You’ll hear yours soon, Eddie. I know you will.”

“I hope.”

- Three Months Later -

It was while he was sitting on his bed one afternoon, doodling on his AP Chemistry homework. Eddie’s day had been long, and excruciatingly boring. Mike, Beverly’s friend, had invited Eddie to go along with the two out to the town. Eddie had politely declined, even though it sounded fun, he’d much rather prefer simply relaxing at home. And that’s what he was doing, and he was, in fact, enjoying it very much.

Suddenly, Eddie heard the sound of a pencil dropping. The impacted surface sounded like wood, which didn’t make sense because Eddie’s room was carpeted, but he still leaned over the bed to check if one of his pens had rolled off. Seeing no indication of such, Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, leaning back into his old position.

A few minutes later, Eddie heard the sound of something falling on the ground once again. This time it did not mirror the previous sound, differing from the phantom pencil that must have dropped. It was more hushed, something lighter. Eddie immediately jumped from his bed and looked all over his floor, searching for what had grabbed his attention. That’s when he heard it.

A soft whisper filled Eddie’s ears, “Oh, you motherfuck, just land in the can.”

Eddie nearly jumped, desperately looking around his room for some intruder. Perhaps he could have chalked it up hearing his mother pass by his thin room walls, but the voice was too different from hers, even in its quiet state. That revelation prompted Eddie to realize what was occurring. His soulmate. If he hadn’t been nervous beforehand, when he believed someone was in his room, he sure as hell was nervous now. He moved to the edge of his bed in a rather slow fashion, leg bouncing as he sat down. As quick as he could, Eddie then mustered up enough courage to speak into the quiet environment around him.

“Hello?”

There was no way Eddie could deny he heard a sharp inhale be taken right after he said that simple word. Something told him that his soulmate was most probably as nervous as he was now. Silence returned and Eddie was about to start convincing himself he was going crazy when a voice filled his ears once more.

“Holy shit, I mean, hey?”

They were definitely a guy, Eddie thought. It sounded like someone his age, but Eddie had a hard time painting a mental image of him in his head.

“Hi... I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure what to say...” Eddie struggled to come up with a coherent thought, phrases sprinting into his mind and leaving just as rapidly. In all honesty, he wouldn’t be surprised if the only reason he had spoken again was to hear his newly found soulmate’s voice.

“I, uh, I actually know exactly what to say to you...” The sentence made Eddie’s breath get stuck in his throat, as he located the shy tone coming from the other boy. The shyness didn’t do any diminishing toward his deeper voice though, it wasn’t Mike deep but definitely not Eddie’s higher voice. He felt a little self-conscious for a second about how possibly sounded but quickly shook the thought away.

“You know exactly what to say to me?” Eddie leaned back into his bed, hugging himself, trying to knot away from the nerves in his stomach. What could his soulmate have to say? Had he planned it out for the first time he would hear Eddie? Was Eddie really that important to someone, where they had prepared for their meeting? All these questions made Eddie’s brain buzz, as he couldn’t focus on anything.

“Yeah... I’ve been waiting to hear you,” Eddie’s thoughts were confirmed.

“Really? Tell me what you have to say.”

“Okay, just listen, though, alright?”

The verb use made Eddie chuckle, “As if I wasn’t already doing that?”

“Okay, whatever,” The other boy was laughing too, “Just... listen...”

Eddie nodded, then remembered no one could see him, so he mumbled a small, “I understand.”

There was quiet for a second, then the small noise of gentle tapping. He couldn’t pinpoint what could be making the noise, perhaps Richie had written what he had to say on some note. It was all Eddie could assume, as he was a little lost. He continued to do as said, keeping quiet and simply focusing on his sense of hearing.

Then some familiar music began to play, it had some beat filled intro, and once again, Eddie couldn’t pinpoint what song was. It had a piece of upbeat music and it was so familiar.

Then it hit him.

“Are you fucking-”

“We're no strangers to love You know the rules and so do I,”

“I cannot fucking believe-”

“A full commitment's what I'm thinking of You wouldn't get this from any other guy,”

“Do you know how goddamn annoying-”

“I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling Gotta make you understand,”

“Holy christ, please turn it off before it gets to the-”

“Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you,“

It was a few lyrics afterward where the boy ended up pausing the song, to which Eddie believed he only did because his so-called soulmate started laughing so hard both of them could barely either Rick Astley at that point.

“I wish there was a way I could hang up on you after that,” Eddie said with an exhausted sigh. This only made the other boy laugh again.

“Well aren’t you fun, I’m Richie,” The name gave Eddie butterflies, and hearing that voice made him melt right back into the previous puddle.

“Richie, you are incredibly annoying.”

“No, I’m not annoying, I just told you I’m Richie!” When Eddie groaned in response, Richie continued, “Okay, now tell me your name.”

“Why should I?”

“Because we’re soulmates, duh.”

It was obviously a good reason, but Eddie still rolled his eyes up at the ceiling.

“My name is Eddie.”

“That’s absolutely adorable. Eddie... Eds.”

“Don’t you dare call me that!”

“Too late, you cutie.”

Even though he had instantly refuted it, Eddie knew that deep inside he actually hadn’t hated that nickname as much as he had let on. And he also knew he definitely didn’t find Richie all that annoying.

But hey, he wasn’t about to just say that, was he?

#reddie #i got bored #this is sobad #oh well!#richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #richie x eddie #it #reddie fic #enjoyyyy #soulmate au

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magical-awesome-kid · 5 years ago

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Listen if you did the math Steven was roughly 12-13 when the series started. You know where we all were at that age? Middle school.

I volunteered at a local science fair the other night. It was for fifth graders, 11-12 yr-olds. I have a cousin who’s starting sixth grade next year.

You know what my friend and I did on accident? One of the kids was looking for his partner, his little brother, and ran away from his project when we asked about the sibling. The two of us, both mid-twenties, looked at each other and INSTANTLY realized that, even in this little elementary school, we sent a kid off without help. His brother rounded the corner moments later and, when I asked if HE was conceded, he shrugged.

Big sibling mood, but also OH GOSH WE LOST A CHILD!

So the two of us did the only thing we could think of - we walked away to judge another display as we had no idea what to do. We told him to find a teacher, ie a better adult, if he couldn’t find his brother. (Thankfully, by the time we came back, both brothers were there)

So now I’m sitting here, with that tiny child in my brain, and thinking of Steven. Steven nearly died several times before the episode with his 14th birthday, and I can only imagine all the harm that did to him. I think of those kids, who built volcanos and had hand-drawings on their displays, and thought “I wouldn’t trust one of these kids to bike to the park by themselves, let along do half of what Steven did.”

It’s a little jarring thinking about it.

Heck, he’s sixteen now. You know what I was doing at sixteen? Freaking out about school, dating, life. Teenage years are stressful enough. I had other factors in play, ones I won’t get into now, but I feel even more for Steven because of it.

Steven is an old soul in a young body. He’s aged so much yet he still seems so young, and it’s all a mess. I really, truly feel for him because no kid deserves this crap.

#Steven Universe #steven universe future

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percyscourt · 4 years ago

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To All The Girls I've Loved Before / Percy Jackson AU

based more on the film version than the novel

Percy Jackson is a 16 year-old hopeless romantic with stormy eyes, a mischevious smile, and jet black hair that spills all over his eyes. He falls and hard, usually liking people for a long time. Instead of telling his crushes, though, he instead writes each a letter- letters he never even thinks once about sending. Each letter is addressed to each of his five (5) main crushes, equipped with why, when, and how he fell for each of them

letter #1: annabeth chase. annabeth chase was percy's first kiss back at a party in seventh grade. it was only for a second, due to a game of spin the bottle, but it was as if the world lit up to percy. in the letter, he reveals that even though annabeth was dating his then-bestfriend, Luke Castellan, percy continued to secretly like her for the rest of seventh grade and most of eighth. the one thing percy loved the most about annabeth was also the one he hated the most; everybody liked her, and it was impossible for him not to fall for her. in his eyes and the eyes of most, she was perfect.

letter #2: rachel elizabeth dare. rachel elizabeth dare was the first person percy liked after getting over his crush on annabeth. it all started on a rainy day when they had to put up the PE's gym bats. rachel was the only one who ever called percy PJ, and he secretly loved it. he also wished he had a nickname for her. their time together was short-lived though, because rachel moved away at the start of the summer after eighth grade. after she left, percy wrote the letter admitting that he wished something had happened between them, even saying he wish she never left.

letter #3: thalia grace. thalia grace was percy's date to homecoming in ninth grade. in his letter, he admitted that he fell for thalia due to her grace- no pun intended- and witty comments all while they danced. percy admitted the crush lasted a little while, and grew even bigger from their english class presentations because thalia just seemed so confident. he ended the letter with a question, what kind of boys did thalia like? was he one of them?

letter #4: calypso from camp. calypso and percy went to the same camp the summer after eighth grade. this romance was very short-lived and percy never even learned her last name. he started liking her after she showed him how to make a shell necklace during arts-and-crafts, but when camp ended, he wrote the letter then sort of forgot about her.

letter #5: silena beauregard. percy actually wrote on two different occasions for silena. after silena moved in the neighborhood when percy was going into sixth and she was going into seventh, her, percy, and percy's older brother, Charles "charlie", all became friends very quickly. the first part of the letter was written when charlie and silena started dating when percy was in ninth grade. percy admitted in the letter that he wished that him and silena got more alone time, despite her relationship with his brother. due to respect for his brother, though he never finished the letter. that is, until charlie broke up with silena right before leaving for college. percy finished the letter on another page, stating how the breakup made him realize that he still had unresolved feelings for silena left over. though again, he said nothing could ever happen between them because of charlie.

it was september of percy's high school junior year when the letters get out. charlie's away at college, leaving percy and tyson alone to fight amongst themselves. after a particularly bad fight, tyson sent out all the letters while percy was asleep.

the next monday, percy was running laps outside at pe when was approached by a very confused annabeth clutching her letter. percy, being as graceful as he is, fainted. when he woke up, not only was annabeth staring down at him, still confused, but silena was also walking towards him, her own letter in hand. so, he did the only thing he could think of- he reached for annabeth and kissed her. annabeth seemed surprised but still kissed him back, and the kiss lasted for what seemed like minutes to percy. when they finally broke apart silena is nowhere in sight. almost as quickly as percy kissed annabeth, he runs.

he runs all the way into school where he runs into thalia grace. "percy! thank gosh!" it takes all of percy's willpower to stop himself from fainting when he sees that thalia also is holding her letter. "uh, you know i'm aromantic, right? i mean, you're sweet, and i totally had fun at homecoming, but i don't-" percy's face turns a bright shade of red. "yeah, yeah, of course. it was a long time ago anyway. uh, can we talk later?" as soon as thalia nods, percy heads to his locker and leaves school, running like the devil was chasing him (percy put off taking his driving test due to the fact that his extreme ADHD made it really hard to concentrate on the road, so he mostly ran everywhere)

when he got home, he ran to his closet to see that all the letters had been sent. one good thing- his letter to calypso had been mailed back, as he didn't know her address. bad thing? everybody else's had sent, and he didn't know how to do damage control.

a little after his mother and brother got home, percy still was trying to figure out how the letters had gotten out. he was tearing apart his room for the fifth time when his mom called up to him; "Percy! Silena's here! Looks like she really wants to talk to you!" percy, of course, instead, hopped down the stairs of the fire escape and headed to his favorite diner, the Big House Diner

when he got there, he immediately asked for his regular order and waited. since he was too busy looking out the window, he didn't realize that somebody had sat down next to him. "Hey, Jackson." percy looked over to see annabeth not even three feet away from his spot at the bar. the waitress came over, asked for annabeth's order, and then left. in attempt to make things less awkward, percy asked annabeth what she was doing there. she was quiet for a while before admitting she had asked Tyson where she could find Percy. "Look, I just wanna be super clear." percy realized annabeth was trying to turn him down and quickly spoke up, "Annabeth, I'm not trying to date you."

after annabeth still kept going, percy explained the letters and then admitted he had only kissed annabeth because he saw silena coming. when annabeth just looked at him confused, percy told her how his brother was no longer dating silena but it would be super awkward if silena believed percy still liked her. "Wait, so. I'm not the only girl that got a letter? Damn, Jackson, you're a player"

Annabeth kept asking who percy sent the letters to, and he ended up telling her about all of them. Just as percy was about to leave, annabeth stopped him. "Did you...walk here?" moments later, percy was getting a ride home in annabeth's jeep. annabeth drove him home but neither of them said anything for awhile. finally, annabeth asked percy what he was going to do about silena, to which percy admitted he had no clue, but that he maybe still liked silena.

before percy got into his house, annabeth had gotten out of the car to stop him. "What if you didn't tell her? What if we let people think we were actually together?" annabeth explained how when luke heard about the kiss, he went ballistic, and how he'd want to get back together soon enough if he thought percy and annabeth were a thing. annabeth left him to think about her proposition, and percy was up almost all night thinking about it

the next day during free period, percy and annabeth met up on the outside benches. "first, if we're doing this, we need rules." "seriously, Jackson?" "Lists help me focus my thoughts."

Percy and Annabeth's rules: 'Annabeth will play with Percy's hair' 'Percy has to read at least one of Annabeth's favorite books' Annabeth has to watch Finding Nemo with Percy, because it's a classic' 'Annabeth will write Percy notes everday' Both people can never tell anybody the relationship is fake' 'Percy has to come to Annabeth's lacrosse games. And the parties.' Annabeth has to drive Percy and Tyson to school' 'Annabeth and Percy have to have better nicknames for each other than just their last names'

"You like the beach, right?" "Yeah, why?" "Then I'll call you Seaweed Brain." "I wish you wouldn't....Wise Girl"

And lastly, 'Percy must go on the school ski trip with me' Percy agreed, secretly thinking to himself that since it was three months away, they probably wouldn't still be doing this. but instead of saying that, he said, "Okay. Deal." both signed, then shook on it for extra measure

the next day, october 1st, their contract was put into motion. percy woke up, got ready for school, and sure enough, when he and tyson walked out of their house, there annabeth was, waiting to drive them in her jeep

as soon as they got into the car, annabeth turned to talk to tyson. "hey, little Percy, what's that?" "it's our mom's famous blue breakfast smoothie. and my name- thanks for asking- is Tyson. Ty to my friends. So, you can call me Tyson." Annabeth smiled, turned to Percy and said, "He's got spunk. I like him." tyson pretended not to hear but percy could tell he was pleased based on his small smile. he wasted no time, though, and immediately asked why the heck annabeth was driving them. "Well, I'm your brother's girlfriend." this response from annabeth came so suddenly that percy almost spit out all of his smoothie. "Can I try some of that, Tyson?" 'Sure' "Oh wow, that is really good. If I drive you guys to school again, will you get me another one of those?" "If you keep driving us to school, you can call me Ty."

as soon as percy and annabeth walked into school, percy knew that people knew. for one thing, when annabeth and percy walked to class together, people started saying his name, started noticing him. "Hey, Percy!" was like a chorus all around him- even from the principal, Mr. D- who had only ever called Percy "Peter" before

when percy and annabeth walked into lunch, annabeth threw her head back in a laugh, brought it down in between percy's shoulder and head, then reached up and played with his hair. she reached into her back pocket and pulled out a note. "This is for you." Annabeth reached up to kiss Percy's cheek and whispered in his ear a quiet "Good job" before breaking away from him, giving Percy a good view of Luke Castellan. And by good, Percy meant horrible. Luke managed to look equal parts bored and murderous at the same time, and Percy quickly made his way to the cafeteria for some water

right before he got into the doorway, percy was suddenly pulled back. "This Chase thing is fucking insane, Perc!" it was Grover Underwood, Percy's best friend since the beginning of middle school. grover never really talked to anybody at school, but instead preferred hanging out with college kids. he was probably the last person that percy thought would be excited over this. the rest of the day percy got equal reactions from everybody else, not to mention a lot of comments and compliments from random girls

when he got home, percy realized he hadn't called charlie or answered his calls in almost a week. it took him maybe two hours after getting home to work up the courage to call him. "Finally. I feel like we haven't talked in forever, so... lay everything on me." percy debated on how to start, before finally settling on first talking about literally anything and anybody else besides him, silena, or annabeth. "Mom and I are making her famous blue cookies for Ty's bake sale." "Bro, cookies? Nah, nah, you've got to do brownies. They're easier." percy was about to argue when charlie started on a different topic.

"So have you heard from Silena recently?"

of course, in regular percy fashion, he started rambling. "Silena? who? oh, like our neighbor? her? uh, well, no, we don't....I mean I- I'm going to go make the cookies. See ya!" quicker than charlie could reply bye, percy hung up.

he was in the middle of getting out ingredients when his doorbell rang. it was annabeth. "Did you not read my note? We're going to Clarisse's party tonight." percy opened his mouth just as his mom walked through the door. "Annabeth Chase? Oh, my, you grew up so beautifully! You're so tall now!" Sally Jackson pulled Annabeth into a quick, yet strong hug in welcoming. all it took was annabeth to mention the party for sally to not only tell percy he was going, but that she would bake the cookies for him, and that he couldn't be home before ten but also not after one. "Of course, no drugs! Other than that, please have fun."

before he knew it, percy found him and annabeth standing outside of Clarisse La Rue's house. just as Percy reached to pull his sweatshirt hood over his head, annabeth slapped his hand away. "what're you doing? your hair looks so much better when you don't have that hood over it. give it to me." after taking his sweatshirt, annabeth put it on herself. she took his phone, took a picture of herself, then set it as his lockscreen. for the finishing effect, she looped his arm around her shoulders and let him lead the way inside.

walking into the party was just as school had been; annabeth introduced percy to her friends, people said hi to him, etc. it took only about five minutes for luke to spot him, and when he did, he invited percy to sit. percy sat down on the couch where luke and the Stoll brothers were sitting together. "So, what's going on with you and Annie?" percy didn't even open his mouth before Connor and Travis were bombarding him with questions of how, when, everything. "Shut up, guys. It's not like they're ever gonna do anything. Annabeth has only been with me and...I bet Percy's never even kissed a girl before."

apparently he didn't care about percy's reaction, because luke suddenly left, and his spot was replaced by annabeth, holding a cup for both herself and percy. "Let's take a picture together- for my phone." percy stared at her dumbly for maybe ten seconds trying to figure out what to do. he finally settled on one of the most cliché poses he saw on insta- he kissed her cheek.

annabeth left to go talk to her team and suddenly percy was alone. just as fast as he was alone, he wasn't. suddenly thalia grace was there. "I guess your letter worked, huh? Don't worry, your secret's safe with me"

while percy and thalia talked, annabeth went to the bathroom. in perfect character, luke followed her in, and immediately started talking. "So Jackson, eh? That's cute. Oh! Is this his sweatshirt? Do you mind? It's chilly." Luke took the sweatshirt from where Annabeth had set it on the counter, but instead of wearing it, he tied it around his neck like a polo scarf. of course, annabeth asked for it back. "No, I think I'll keep it for awhile, okay Annie?"

annabeth found percy, and after saying goodbye to thalia, they headed over to the Big House Diner. as soon as they got there, annabeth praised and praised percy for his "excellence performance in making luke jealous." percy shrugged, but he could feel heat rising on his face. to add on to that heat, annabeth started talking about when they were kids. "you've always had better style than Luke, and i think it made him jealous. better hair, too." of course, all through dinner, annabeth's phone was blowing up- with texts from luke. "So you guys still talk, then?" percy knew how he sounded- jealous- but annabeth didn't comment on his tone. "Sometimes. Hey, don't judge!" "Don't call him tonight."

they spent the rest of the night talking about the love letters, why percy hadn't had a girlfriend yet, why annabeth was still hung up on luke, etc. after dinner, annabeth drove percy home, reminding him to be ready the next morning for school. percy got ready for bed after responding to Annabeth's new instagram post of them, but stayed awake for a long time. when he finally did fall asleep, he went to bed with a smile on his face

by november, they had the fake dating thing down pact. percy would eat with annabeth's lacrosse team at lunch and bring them some of his mom's baked goods, percy and annabeth would call each other nicknames, etc. percy had to admit it was a nice change of pace, but he still caught himself feeling a little bit lost sometimes. especially when he started noticing silena staring across the cafeteria at him everyday

it was maybe the fifth week of percy and annabeth's relationship when silena showed up at percy's door wanting to talk. "I can't believe you're dating Annabeth." percy let silena rant about this "unlikely relationship" before cutting her off to ask if there was anything else. "Did you mean everything...in the letter?" "I don't know, okay? It was a long time ago." "So what am I supposed to do? I'm not going to tell Charlie or anything; he doesn't even talk to me anymore. Gosh, are we not even friends anymore Percy?" "I'm sorry, Silena. We can't talk right now."

percy forced himself to stop thinking about silena, and instead put all his effort into his relationship with annabeth. the only problem? percy was worried about the endgame. his mom and tyson were both so attached to annabeth at that point that percy couldn't imagine how they'd react when their thing stopped. it wasn't just his family he was worried about, either. he had had multiple family dinners at the Chase house, and he found that he actually enjoyed them

not only were their families getting closer, percy realized that so were he and annabeth. sometimes when they talked, their relationship seemed so scarily real that he couldn't breathe. they would talk about how percy's dad had passed away, how annabeth had run away from home and had an absent mother, everything.

percy, instead of talking to annabeth, turned to silena instead. he talked about how he felt himself falling for annabeth, for real, and silena listened to everything he had to say without any input. of course, annabeth hated the fact they still talked, maybe just as much as percy hated seeing luke and annabeth talk

Percy became so worried that he was falling for annabeth that all he wanted to do was call the whole thing off. "You know, maybe we should just call it." "Not before the ski trip, Seaweed Brain!" "Fine. I'll go. But only if Grover comes with."

Percy asked Grover, assuming he would say no, then almost killed him when he answered yes. percy spent the weeks leading up to the trip split between packing and worrying. on the way there, he sat with grover and slept the entire time. when they got there, he not so subtlety ignored and evaded annabeth's attempts to hang out together. him and grover ended up rooming together, and when grover went out, percy invited thalia over to their room to talk. he told her all about annabeth, the letters, the fake relationship, the maybe real feelings, everything. of course, thalia told him to do something, anything. "She obviously likes you, you know."

before he could talk himself out of it, percy had put on a jersey over his boxes. he headed down to the hot tub where thalia said annabeth would probably be waiting. sure enough, when percy got there, annabeth was all alone. "Now you want to hang out? I wanted to sit next to you on the bus Percy, and you ignored me, you know." it took percy a solid two minutes to realize what annabeth was trying to get at. before he could second guess it, he was in the hot tub, and then he was only an inch away from annabeth's face. and then they were kissing. and then percy slipped, dragging annabeth under with him. but they were still kissing, and all percy could think was that this had to be the best underwater kiss of all time

after the hot tub, percy walked annabeth back to her room and they kissed goodnight. for the rest of the ski trip, they were like this- affectionate, happy, and real. the morning they were leaving, percy, as always, was late- the very last on the bus. when he finally got on the bus, it erupted in cheers. "Jackson, you dog!" people reached over to slap his back and shoulders as he made his way to sit by annabeth. he thought about asking annabeth about it, but no sooner than he sat down had she started using his shoulder as a pillow, so he decided to forget about it.

when they got back to school, luke stopped percy before he could leave. "It's so cool that you came on the ski trip, you know? Almost as cool as how understanding you are about Annie and I's friendship. Like, a lot of boys would be a little mad that their girlfriend slept in another guy's room, but you're just really mature I guess. Oh! And it's sweet how you're okay with Annie still giving me gifts, like this sweatshirt here. Anyway, have a great break, Jackson."

when Annabeth came over to drive percy home, he told her he'd rather walk instead. he headed home in the fifty degree weather, and had only been walking a minute before he broke into a full sprint. when percy got home, he was so distracted that he didn't see tyson in the living room. as always, tyson tackled him before he could even say hi. then, just as he broke away, suddenly charlie was there, hugging both of them. it was so good to have both his brothers there with him that percy almost forgot about annabeth. almost.

it was an hour before dinner when annabeth showed up, voice loud and eyes watering. "Nothing happened between me and Luke that night, okay? We have history, he was sad, I helped him, but nothing happened Percy."

percy could barely listen and had barely gotten a word in when a third voice stepped in. "Maybe you should leave, Annabeth." Silena stood next to Percy, back straight and protective. "This is why you want to break up? Not because of Luke and I, but her? Are you seriously in love with this...Kardashian wannabe?!" suddenly, there was a fourth voice. "You're in love with Silena?" "Charlie, c'mon man, wait! Both of you need to leave. Now" "You were never second best, Percy. I promise."

just as percy went to go talk to charlie, his phone rang. somebody had sent him a video- of him and annabeth in the hot tub. 'It's always the geeky guys that try to act hard, isn't it?' percy threw his phone and stayed in his room for almost two days straight. when he finally left, he went down the hall to charlie's room.

"I'm so stupid" percy and charlie talked about everything, the letters, the video, silena, annabeth; and by the third hour of talking, percy and charlie were no longer fighting, just catching up

"Let's not have anymore secrets between the Jackson brothers now, okay?" Tyson said as soon as he saw they had made up. "That includes me. I sent the letters, okay? I'm sorry." Percy smiled for only a minute before moving to attack Tyson with Charlie's punching glove. "If I can forgive you for writing Silena a letter, don't you think you can forgive Ty for sending them?" he hated it, but Percy couldn't argue with that logic, and he forgave tyson fast.

fast forward to new year's, and percy still hadn't talked to annabeth. instead, he spent most days at the community indoor pool, all day. it got so bad that one time his mom picked him up an hour earlier than usual. "Come on, let's go for a drive, alright?" after percy got dressed in sweats, his mom took him to the Big House. "Your father and I used to dance here, you know, using the jukebox." percy stayed quiet; his mother never talked about his father anymore, not ever since he was confirmed dead at sea. his mom used this silence to her advantage and continued to talking, but switched to a different topic. "Seeing you with Annabeth was really...good. For all of us, I think. You guys seem to really like each other."

when percy got back to school, the video had been taken down. of course, there was a photo on his locker of them. 'Told her not to trust him. I bet he slipped her something. She would never get into a hottub with him out of her own free-will.' while percy stared at the message, grover ripped it down, and suddenly annabeth was there, screaming. "Hey! It was my choice to get in that hottub. If you want to shame, shame me, but leave Percy out of it, because he didn't do anything wrong to me, okay? He's probably the nicest guy here and you're all just asshats that can't see it"

after her speech, annabeth headed over to percy. "I'm sorry." "I've got to talk to somebody else, first, Annabeth." Percy looked all around school until he found who he was looking for. "Seriously, Luke? What the hell's your problem, man?" "You, Percy. You have been since you kissed my girlfriend in seventh grade. You broke the bro code first, remember?" percy couldn't believe that luke cared about that kiss, maybe more so than percy had when he wrote annabeth her letter. percy suddenly wasn't mad at luke, he was....sorry? for him. he couldn't explain it, but it didn't seem worth fighting over anymore. percy stepped back from luke and let him leave.

after school, percy invited silena over. "You were the first girl I ever truly liked, but I didn't realize until you started dating Charlie. But, over time...that feeling faded away. And, I guess, I'm trying to say...I miss you. But not in a romantic qay, just as a best friend." "Well, duh! I miss my best friend too, Perc. Obviously, I'm not a big fan of your little miss perfect, but I like how she stood up for you. It takes a lot for girls to stand up in that way, especially since that video could wreck a future scholarship for her. maybe you should tell her you miss her" "What if it isn't as real to her as it is to me?"

percy and silena sat in silence for a while before tyson came downstairs with a cookie jar. it was the one percy tried to throw away- the one full of annabeth's notes to him. percy spent the next twenty minutes reading all the letters before he made up his mind.

percy got in his mom's car, drove all the way to school, and rushed across the field. annabeth, fresh off practice, stood in the middle, watching percy come to her. "I drove here." "Really?" "Yep. Okay, bye now." "Wait, Percy, wait. what's in your hand?" percy turned to leave, but annabeth grabbed his wrist. "Read me the letter, Percy."

percy opened the letter and closed it almost immediately, looking into annabeth's eyes instead. "I need you to know that I like you, Annabeth Chase, and not in a fake way." percy held his breath and got ready to hear bad news. instead, annabeth said, "Well, I'm in love with you, Seaweed Brain. Now, are you going to break my heart, or are you going to kiss me?"

"I'm never letting go of you again, you know that, Wise Girl?" "I know."

they kissed, and percy couldn't help but be happy that the letters had gotten out. after all, he knew that him and annabeth probably wouldn't be together without them.

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idiosyncrasy-at-its-finest · 4 years ago

Text

I want a vibe

this tab has been open on my computer for so long... last edit was Nov. 1... I planned on proofreading or even just rereading before uploading but... idk, these are my thoughts. I don’t need to censor, refine, edit myself. these are my thoughts and a part of who I am– or at least discovering who I could be... it’s now Nov. 17, 2020. clearly I’ve dwelled on this topic for a while, but only with it hanging like an apparition in the back of my mind.

Something about writing directly on tumblr makes me feel so… wow, she’s a writer and can’t put the feeling into words. I feel like there’s more purpose and intent to it. I don’t quite feel more professional, but I…

I know there’s this thing called synesthesia. Here is Wikipedia’s definition: perceptual phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway. I used to want it. It’s a cool idea, to have so many things invading your senses. But not invading, just… popping in to say hi!

Cognitive. Maybe. I associate certain things with very specific mental images. Typing directly into tumblr has me feeling like I’ve got wide-rimmed, bookish glasses resting on my nose. The middle’s broken, but’s been poorly stuck together with a piece of old tape, the edges sticky with fuzz. My hair’s in a messy bun and in the afternoon sun it’s glowing a light chestnut, hues of red streaking through. I’m in a big sweater and there’s a cup of peppermint tea beside. It’s hot. I only drink cold tea because my tongue is very sensitive.

But I’m writing in google docs right now because I’m in class. And I don’t quite want the people behind to see I’m on tumblr. Not that I’m embarrassed, but I’m not proud either. It exists, and it’s mine and I don’t need anyone else’s thoughts on it because it’s not for anyone else. Just for me.

I want a vibe. I’ve been getting into Corpse Husband’s stuff recently– but not his original scary content. I’m too much of a chicken for that. And even in seventh grade I started listening to panic! and fall out boy more often. Twenty one pilots too. Eighth grade was when MCR joined the mix. And even when I was little, I wanted to be called “it” because I didn’t like the stereotypes associated with being a girl, but I didn’t want to be a gross boy.

I always pictured myself as some sort of hardened youth. She wears flannel, swears a bit too much, hard exterior but a good friend, kind of detached. And no, I don’t swear, and I only own one piece of flannel. I am sort of detached, but more so hyper, silly, tangential… occasionally detached. So when the default me that people see is a bubbly and fun girl, I feel almost mean pulling out the side of myself that I feel a bit more comfortable in. The cheerful me is not a fake version, I am completely and fully a child at heart, and I love to have fun. But, I’m also mean and I like to tease people. I’m somewhat physical, but I never hit any of my female friends and when I moved at the end of sixth grade, suddenly I didn’t have many male friends. Now, when the urge comes to punch someone– however teasingly– I can’t. Because then my female friends’ feelings will be hurt.

My current fashion sense is comfortable. It’s not trying at all. It’s jean shorts and a top. Loose jeans and a top (but I live near the equator, so I only wear jeans on rainy days in this year-round-summer climate).

Anyway. Corpse. I found myself wanting black nail polish.

It’s Saturday now, the next day. I’m not in class. I’m still writing on this doc.

Anyway. Corpse. Black nail polish. But I don’t want to get into that, because using nail polish implies I put effort into my appearance, I cared about what color my nails would be for some aesthetic appeal. I want to wear combat boots because I’ve always thought that the laced up shoes, clunky and powerful, looked… cool. I want to be cool– my version of cool. But then combat boots would look nice with fishnet-clad legs leading into them. And then some type of corset, some chokers, dark eyeliner, and suddenly, yes, mom, it is a phase.

But I also want baggy jeans and tight tees for the simplest way to be comfortable and to flatter my figure. I like wearing skirts, because they’re typically more high waisted, and the area of my torso that cinches in is much higher above my waist. But I manspread a lot and am never careful when sitting or jumping. I want to emphasize how fun and kind I am. I want silly earrings and bright tees with motivational quotes on them, and either mom jeans or a cute skirt, or maybe high waisted shorts. A faded light blue.

I want what I wear to have some meaning and to reflect my personality, but I can’t even figure out what that is. I know people say you can be a ‘baddie’ and a soft girl, dress how you are and show off the multitudes of your identity, but it’s strange to me. To think one day I might go out with a ponytail, sweatpants, and a black tank, and the next, I’m going out wearing ripped lace up boots, black jeans, and heavy makeup (though I don’t wear makeup and I don’t intend to).

This isn’t very poetic, nor is it doing the best job explaining my feelings, but I don’t know how I feel. I also just don’t want to invest much time into altering my appearance.

Hi I’m back! It’s the next day. Clearly a lot of thought is being put into this. Not this the writing, but this the concept. Idea. A lot of people will comment– on youtube, instagram, twitter– things like “Corpse’s vibe: (followed by dark emojis, chains, wilting roses) Corpse’s personality: (insert cute flowers, blushes, pink hearts)”. And it got me thinking. If this whole identity crisis and vibe dilemma was spurred on by Corpse (it’d taken deep root in my mind previously, but I just sort of ignored it due to the amount of effort it would take to deal with it), then why not… be like Corpse? I can keep my personality and just… express the other parts of myself in other ways.

Yes. But then the issue would be buying corsets and explaining them to my mom. Or asking my mom to buy them. And then having my mom see me in them. And then wear them outside. Oh my gosh. What about my dad?

A somewhat joking end to this, but… I don’t know. I think I’d feel confident in stompy boots and black lace up dresses (not lace itself, I don’t like how itchy it is), but I’d also feel… not like myself. And I’m motivated enough to go ahead and make that myself, so. For now. Maybe when I go to college, I’ll collect a diverse wardrobe. Dress up at home. And then occasionally go out once I’m thinking less about what I wear and more about how what I wear makes me feel.

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