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philly-interlude · 16 days

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[11:51 AM]

"have you ever thought of leaving her?"

"...why do you ask?"

"i'm asking you a question"

"...sometimes-"

you heard two men chatting behind the slightly opened door of the rooftop, surely it was your boyfriend jisung and his bestfriend.

your hands grip the handles, hesitating whether you'll go there or nah, well you don't wanna interrupt their chattering.

you didn't hear the next words coming from his mouth as you left downstairs with the lunch tight on your arms, you didn't know why you left though your mind tells you to listen more of it.

he thought of leaving me sometimes? am i too much for him...or am i not enough...?

you have now overthink

on your way down, you bumped with ara—jisung's ex-crush which is also your... bestfriend? maybe.

"oh? y/n, be careful you have lunch with you, is that for jisung?" she smirked teasingly as she lifted her brow teasing you more, but honestly, it doesn't give you butterflies on your stomach.

without a word, you smiled and just nodded respectfully knowing she's the president of your class lol, "well i have to go somewhere sorry" she was about to say something but you ran from her not wanting to speak more.

oh god how you despised listening to her speaking his name in front of you, you despised how she acts in front of your boyfriend when she borrows his bike, how you despise her in every way whenever she interacts with jisung.

you were never jealous, but when it comes to both of them, jealousy flares anywhere. you just wanna cry and curl up like a baby thinking that they both have feelings for each other but you trust jisung, you love him.

unknown to you, you were crying already from the thought of them having conversations behind your back, but you know she won't betray you because she already has her man, so why cry over jisung cheating with ara? that's just stupid.

or maybe it was just the stereotype that jisung would cheat with her since he liked her before and that he also has a photo with her that we willingly took and posted it on social media with 70 reactions with the caption "true love is with the president" and just- but he hasn't done that with you.

in addition to that, his mother has seen it and more people did, too, especially his and her relatives and close friends and that hurt you more now.

you don't like overreacting when it comes to this but you fished your phone from your skirt pocket and went to your social deleting the highlight you had with both of you and jisung.

"that's radioactive jealousy you have there my friend" a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts and hid the screen of your phone hastily, it was too late as you looked up and saw jisung's bestfriend raising his eyebrows with a small smile towards you.

you stood up and rolled your eyes on him, "shut up, where's jisung?" you plainly asked. he crossed his arms in front of you with a stoic gaze, "you were just sobbing about him and then you're finding him now? the fuck is that mood"

"just answer me"

"nuh-uh let's go somewhere else for you to clear your mind, crying about him and finding him after your rage won't help for the sake of your peace-"

you interrupted him with your index finger touching his lips shutting him up as you inhaled gritting your teeth, "fine let's go" you went past through him and he followed like a dog behind you.

a voice oh-so-familiar caught your ears and halted both you and jisung's friend's steps, him almost bumping into you letting out a small 'ow'

"y/n!" it's jisung, obviously, but he isn't the one that caught your attention- "see i told you we shouldn't walk this path y/n you're so hard-headed-" jisung's bestfriend whispered annoyingly beside you.

you wanna furrow your eyebrows but you don't want to give a negative impression towards your boyfriend especially since it's the only free time you can be with him.

"hi sungie" you hugged each other as you trained your eyes to ara, of course she went with her 'cutie patootie' persuasion just to borrow your boyfriend's bike again.

might as well smell the seat of your bike after she sits on it. your evil side spoke but you shook your head not wanting to be mad and jealous again, you have the worst personality when you get jealous, you know that so you limit your craziness to prevent...homicide.

"have you eaten yet?" jisung asked, "no" you briefly but straightforwardly answered. "attitude, miss" he deadpanned, "what's with you again?" questioned him.

"nothing lol" you giggled and pinched his cheeks and was about to go away from his arms and tell some invalid reasons yet he gripped your arms tightly but softly forcing you to stay with him, that man's dead serious and he ain't ballin'.

jisung pulled you somewhere hidden (a/n: it's not what you think it is-) and cornered you on the wall, he looked at you dead in the eye, "go on what's with the attitude? i know you y/n don't trip me" he lowly said.

but you're a bit prideful, "you know me? then you gotta know when to avoid people i despise too, i'm not being possessive, i honestly don't care sung but when it comes to her it's a different story.

it's a fucking different feeling because i feel like you still have those sparks on your eyes whenever you look at her whenever she speaks to you like- whenever...i don't know i can't trust you with her, i am jealous, of course i admit that i hate everything you did to her that you didn't do to me...i-

i hate to think that you liked her more before than you do to me as your...girlfriend", your knees went weak and eventually gave up from being overwhelmed, you hate crying in front of him over a small thing.

he went down you slowly, his glittery eyes looking at you sadly, but the words that came out from his mouth surprised you.

"you're overreacting again" he pulled you close to him and brought you back to the classroom.

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annieshowell · 2 years

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#i don't know what to write anymore #strangetown 1984 #specter household #specter round 1 #ichabod specter #olive muenda #strangetown #early strangetown #sims 2 #the sims 2

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stevebabey · 1 year

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part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")

So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.

Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.

Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.

So, it’s an Eddie thing.

But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.

Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.

Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.

And this thing with Eddie… is not that.

So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.

(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)

And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve notices though. He always notices.

It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.

It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.

Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.

But he can’t fucking tell.

To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.

Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.

Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.

Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.

It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.

So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.

Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.

But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.

A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.

After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.

But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.

It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.

So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.

It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…

Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.

And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.

Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.

Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.

It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.

“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”

He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”

Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.

“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”

Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.

Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.

“Mm?”

“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.

But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.

Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.

“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—

Unless…?

“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!

“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.

“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.

“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.

Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.

Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.

Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.

Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.

“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.

“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”

There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.

“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.

“Do you want to try again?”

Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.

Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”

‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.

It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.

And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.

“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.

“Can I... have a hickie?”

now with a part three !

#at this point call this the 'can i' series #sweet boys asking each other for things they most certainly would be given <3 #but don't think they will <3 #tried to flip it and make it so even tho eddie is used to touch. the romantic touch? he's got none! that's where he's touch-starved #ALSO EVERYONE'S TAGS WERE SO NICE ON THE LAST ONE #trust i am. not feelin so bad nowadays (me saying this like 4 days later lmao)#but <3 thank u all #gay ppl in my phone.... you know what to do #ruby writes steddie #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #touch-starved steve harrington #not rlly anymore hehe #does anyone notice that it ends with yet another 'can i?" question? HEHE #yet again stib gets kisses where ruby doesn't but alas <3 dis is way fluffier this time #nearly went the angst route! and went hmmmm naur #ok ok i'll be quiet now

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ghosthunterbuck · 25 days

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beer & apologies

(buddie) (722 words) (7x04 coda)

It’s late, later than any reasonable person would show up on a friend’s doorstep, but Buck’s got this bright, warm feeling in his chest and all he wants to do is apologize so he can share it. For a split second he thinks about knocking, but that feels a little too much like going backwards. Instead, he lets himself in and hangs his key on the hook.

“Eddie,” he calls quietly into the still house.

“Kitchen.” The reply is soft, easy, like Eddie was expecting him.

Buck steps into the room and holds up the beer he brought.

Eddie looks up at him and grins, soft and warm in the glow of the lamplight. “What’s that for?”

“This is ‘sorry for acting like a teenager and spraining your ankle’ beer,” Buck says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Seriously, I’m sorry.”

Eddie sighs and pushes an empty chair back from the table with his foot, gesturing for Buck to sit. “I’m sorry too,” he says.

“No, no, you don’t—" Buck starts.

“Yeah, I do,” Eddie interrupts with a wry grin. “You should definitely be sorry-er, though, so I’ll take the beer.”

Buck snorts and sits, setting the six pack on the table between them.

“We didn’t—well, I didn’t…”

“I know,” Buck says. “I was just—”

“I know,” Eddie says softly.

A few, quiet moments pass, and it’s comfortable, exactly what Buck was missing the last couple of days.

“Hey,” Eddie says suddenly, sitting up a little straighter, “at least now I know why you always said no to basketball.” He smiles, loose and just a tiny bit mischievous.

Buck splutters. “What? No! I wasn’t that bad,” he protests.

Eddie lifts his injured ankle and raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, well maybe, but—”

“Uh-uh,” Eddie says, “no buts. You haven many talents, Buck, but basketball isn’t one of them.”

Buck ducks his head and grins. “Maybe I’ll get Tommy to teach me, then I can beat you without playing dirty.” Saying Tommy’s name out loud gives birth to a few giddy butterflies in his stomach.

“You two make up?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Buck says. “He uh—texted me.” The butterflies turn to little rocks.

“Good,” Eddie says, “that’s good.” He grabs a beer and twists the top off. “I really think you guys will get along, if you give him a chance.”

“We, um. Yeah. We probably will.” Buck grabs a beer of his own and stares at the label.

He doesn’t—he didn’t mean to lie. It just kind of… came out. Which, it’s Eddie. Buck knows he could tell him exactly what happened, right now, and it’d be fine. It’d be completely fine because it’s Eddie and he knows Eddie would be cool about it, probably even happy for him! But when he goes to open his mouth it just. Doesn’t.

“How’s—uh. How’s Marisol?” he asks instead, tripping over his words.

Eddie shrugs. “She’s fine, same as always. Apparently Christopher got her to play Fortnite, which, according to him, was a disaster.”

Buck laughs, shaking his head. “That kid,” he says softly.

“That kid,” Eddie agrees. He takes another swig of beer and sits back.

“Hey, wait,” Buck says suddenly. He lurches forward and snags the bottle out of Eddie’s hand. “You can’t have this, you’re on pain killers.”

“It’s my apology beer!” Eddie protests.

“Nope, two sips is plenty. I can’t hurt your ankle and your liver on the same day.”

“It’s after midnight, it’s tomorrow,” Eddie pouts. “Give it.” He makes a halfhearted attempt to grab it back, but Buck holds the beer aloft.

“Nuh-uh, absolutely not,” Buck says. “You can drink your apology beer this weekend.”

“My apology beer is going to be flat and stale,” Eddie replies, unimpressed.

Buck rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy you a new apology beer, alright?”

“Promises, promises.”

“I will!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie laughs. “You better. Want to bring it over on Saturday? We can watch the game.”

Buck’s grin falters a little bit, even as that warm feeling bubbles up in his chest all over again. “I uh- can’t, sorry.”

“What, you got a hot date or something?” Eddie asks with a laugh.

Buck takes a long swallow from the beer he stole from Eddie. “Yeah, something,” he says with a hollow laugh.

He feels like a liar.

#i have returned and i come bearing fic #i straight up don't remember my tagging system so #oh well #911 #911 abc #911fic #buddie #buddiefic #911 spoilers #abbie writes #its a coda friends you know what im about #also i'm gonna revive the tag list tomorrow so sorry in advance to anyone who sees this and then gets a crazy late tag!!#or doesn't want them anymore lol

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lost-tardis-room · 6 months

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someone should tell micheal sheen to get a tumblr once the actors strike is over i think he'd like it here

#i mean it would be absolute chaos but yknow #i feel like he'd vibe with it #just it would have to be after the strike he probably doesn't need anymore tempting to talk about The Kiss as it is #micheal sheen #good omens #do you think he'd ever tell his ao3 lol #actually no i don't want to know what he writes about #but that would be new levels of fandom fame #micheal sheen leaving a comment on your fic #hehe

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captain-astors · 8 months

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Creature. (The rendered ones are referenced from manga panels)

#mediocre art #tokyo ghoul #On some level I think I should like Kaneki more than I do but there's this weird sense of detachment #I have not only from him but being able to perceive him as a character?#I don't even dislike him it's just that I can't feel any which way about him at all. He's a catalyst for events #feels more like the conch from Lord of the Flies or something rather than a fictional person.#He doesn't suffer and learn from the consequences #he just suffers and does what got him there again. It's arguable that the lack of punishment denies him the satisfaction #but if that's the case why does he end the story with everything working out perfectly for him?#Why do his friends oblige his flaws and accept his lack of change?#Is the problem my lack of understanding or his lack of good writing?#Is he well written?#Why do I like a certain character from a different anime who's a very similar person with very similar dynamics #but with a goal and acceptance by himself and those around him that his actions really are reprehensible and cannot truly be atoned for #not only more but to the point that he's actually one of my favorites?#Am I just sitting upon a throne of entitlement #because his thought process and experiences are not catered to be applicable to and understood by myself?#GOD IF I KNOW ANYMORE #I'm not pressuring myself to like him or anything I just don't understand anything about kaneki these days and I don't know why

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meownotgood · 2 months

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it felt amazing to finally see that green checkmark on ao3, to finally move the full fic to my finished folders on docs, to finally say with my whole chest that it's really completed...

I'm proud of myself and what I managed to make, I'd been working on this fic for over a year, and I felt a lot of doubts while writing. I didn't expect to write so much. I often thought I was saying too much, or the fic wasn't good enough. when I reread it, I realized it wasn't perfect, but it doesn't have to be. I wrote something that was so unabashedly me, and I'm so grateful for that feeling. I'm so happy that I can write what I enjoy, that I can be myself while doing what I have always loved the most. I learned and progressed, and I can feel only excitement for whatever I write next!!

thank you for your patience, and if you end up reading, thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart 💞

I took off work tomorrow to celebrate lol (actually because I'm still sick but we're calling it a celebration). I don't know what to say next so here's some cute pictures of aki. three cheers for fic completion 🎉🎉🎉

#it's weird because #I thought after finishing this #I'd want to not write again for a very long time #but I just want to write even more tomorrow lol #insanity is real yall don't get the topknot virus #I appreciate everyone who has stuck with me!#comments and reblogs and kudos on ao3 are always appreciated but don't feel pressured #fanfic seriously changed my life for the better #at the time I picked up writing again I was in a very lost state #but since then I've been happier and happier #I've grown my writing but also grown as a person #I want to improve my writing while continuing to make the silly things I enjoy #don't know what I'm saying anymore #tomorrow I'll celebrate by eating a strawberry cake I baked with my mum #and I will give all the akis a bite too 💪💪💪💪

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demonbarberofbeepbeep · 17 days

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morning toddheads

#look he did have fun #he liked it #*walter white voice* he liked it. he was good at it #you know what i do think he loved her a little bit too #final scene is so sad #everything faaaaalllllsss apaaaart #i guess when i say i don't think sweenett is love #i do think they love each other in their ways #but the lie about lucy is so enormous #so central #to have lucy still alive and badly needing help #and have nellie continuously hide that from a man who is GRIEVING HIS WIFE #and trying to avenge her #it bothers me a lot #so i think the betrayal at her lying to him is multifold #it's not just you LIED to me #it's YOU lied to me #i thought you were on my side #all our confidences and tender moments had this lie beneath it #who are you #even #idk. i'm writing my fanfic and im in my feelings #their relatinoship is so complicated #what is love anyway #WHAT IS IS LOVE #baby don't throw me in the oven #in the oven #anymore #text post meme #sweenett

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thefirstknife · 9 months

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rip gambit you will be missed 😔

Don't even know what to say tbh.

For those that don't know, the big State of the Game article came out detailing incoming changes and adjustments and all the big stuff. Gambit was mentioned! But at what cost. Basically, they are ceasing any kind of support for Gambit. What we have now is what it is. We will get the Dreaming City map back in TFS and they will add Shadow Legion and Lucent Hive as enemy factions in TFS. That's all.

Full text:

As many of you have noticed, we’ve been quiet on Gambit since last year’s overhaul that launched alongside The Witch Queen. In that revamp, the team made significant changes across five categories in Gambit: core activity fundamentals, Primeval tuning, invasions, ammo economy, and rewards. Unfortunately, these updates didn’t move the needle for player engagement. Although we know our Gambit fans mostly care about new or returning maps, this is an area of the game with lower engagement that would take resources away from more popular parts of the game to shore up. While we don’t have plans to dedicate more resources to significantly transform Gambit, we do have a few updates planned for the year of The Final Shape. These include porting the Cathedral of Scars map and its beautiful Dreaming City setting into the latest version of Destiny 2, as well as adding the Shadow Legion and Lucent Hive enemy types.

I don't know how to tell you this Bungie, but the reason "engagement is low" in Gambit is because Gambit sucks. Ever since half of it was removed with DCV, it just sucked. It has no variety, the gameplay is largely busted, it's not sufficiently updated, ammo changes suck, invasion cycle sucks (why is the enemy even getting a portal when their Primeval is at 5% health and the other team is still in mote collecting phase is beyond me), there are no cool armour sets to chase (just look at Iron Banner and Trials stuff, imagine dedicated cosmetics) and finally there are simply no weapons that are worth anything. Both Vanguard and Crucible have more weapons and also adept versions. There is zero reason to go into Gambit without major changes to Gambit. And now with the further changes to how playlists and challenges will work, there will be even less reason to go into Gambit. Observe:

Before then, we’re making Gambit entirely optional to maximize your rewards unless you’re looking for a piece of gear that’s specific to the mode. Gambit will continue to serve as a source of Exotic engrams via weekly challenges, though as we mentioned above, you’ll be able to complete all your weekly challenges in any ritual you’d like starting in Season 22. If you want to stick to Vanguard or Crucible challenges without touching Gambit, now you can. We’re also reducing the number of Gambit-specific Seasonal Challenges starting in Season 22, so players won’t need to bank motes to be able to earn that big purse of Bright Dust for completing nearly every challenge in the Season. Finally, we’re adding Fireteam Matchmaking to Gambit next Season, which will replace the Freelance node and should result in faster, better matchmaking by combining both Gambit playlists. We’ll keep an eye on reception and player engagement after these additions take place, and we hope you’ll visit ‘ol Drifter next Season to get your hands on his new Void Machine Gun.

Ngl, but I don't think anyone besides like a total of 6 people will play Gambit next season. The incentive to go in there is completely removed. You won't even have to go in there for pinnacles or for challenges. The Void Machine Gun will not be enough of an incentive because the chance of that gun being better than two recently available craftable Void Machine Guns (Commemoration and Retrofit Escapade) is very low. And besides, once you get it at the end of your first match, you can leave Gambit forever.

This is the feedback loop that just reinforces the idea that people don't like Gambit. And I mean. Who would at this point. I'm pretty sure that if Crucible had stayed the same as it was at the start of Beyond Light, engagement would be low there too. But you know. Crucible has received major updates pretty much every season since with multiple new modes, several Trials overhauls, Iron Banner overhaul, competitive overhaul, new armours and weapons added and YES, even new maps. God forbid even 5% of these resources went into Gambit.

Anyway, this is the whole section about Gambit in 6500 words. It's basically a "you guys aren't playing this so we're doing the bare minimum of keeping it in the game as is, no new work will be done on it ever." Thanks I guess.

And for the record, something I also added while having a rant in my discord, I want to make it clear that I don't want anyone to spiral into a Bungie hate train. Even for this. I understand perfectly well what's the community attitude towards Gambit and what it's been for years now. People just don't like it and they're not incentivised to like it and they're actively encouraged to hate it. Spending resources into a game mode on the hope that maybe you can change people's minds would be insanity. Like, the amount of change Gambit would need to MAYBE start appealing to gamers would be beyond any reasonable time and resources Bungie can put in. And if you could guarantee that people would love and play Gambit then, fine. But you can't. Most likely, even if major changes happened, people would still just do their weekly stuff and bail. It's simply not worth it. In order for people to like it, it needs to be completely and thoroughly overhauled in a way that would need more time and effort than the entire Light subclass overhaul and it's just not a reasonable expectation, nor is it guaranteed to work. So I get it.

I'm still disappointed and annoyed about it because I believe it wasn't given a fair chance at all. I also know how good it can be and how Gambit Prime could've been improved upon over the years if they tried. Instead, it got removed and that was honestly the death sentence for Gambit. It's unfortunate. It's my favourite game mode that could've been so much better was it given even a fraction of attention of Crucible.

I'll still be playing it. You will find me in the Gambit queue waiting for 2 hours to find 7 other lunatics to play with, don't worry about it. But I'm absolutely incredibly sad about them being basically forced to axe the potential of the whole game mode that is incredibly creative and fits with the type of game Destiny is perfectly.

There's other interesting stuff in the article and some upcoming really cool improvements and changes to the game. But if you're a fan of Gambit in any capacity, this is a death certificate for the mode. I suggest coming to terms with it quickly because Bungie changing their minds about this is highly unlikely.

#destiny 2 #gambit #ask #long post #says 'don't know what to say' at the start. writes an essay. FHKSJHFKJS #i won't go too much into it outside of this. we all know what this means no need to beat the dead horse #i'll still play it and the mode is still there but i expect a drop in quality and population significantly #the issues we have will never be addressed nothing will ever be fixed. we'll get a 5th map (returning) in 6 months and that's it #yay. I guess.#don't think there will be anyone in the playlist anymore by that point so I'm not sure why even bother with that alone #but still. if that does happen at least new people will be able to see that map now. it was very pretty #unfortunately not good gameplay wise. but at least it will help to not get deep six 17 times in a row #anyway. sad situation for gambit enjoyers. please don't turn into crucible bros to harass devs though

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thaliagrayce · 1 year

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y'know what we don't talk about enough? Hazel died. We talk about how she grew up in the 30's and 40's and we talk about how out of place she feels in the modern world, but! She died! She was dead! She has spent more time dead than alive, and not by a close margin!

How does that effect a person??? We got some of it in the flashbacks, but once those caught up with her present timeline and she shared them, they just kind of... disappeared. And she was a regular girl with some weird past experiences. That's one way of doing it, sure!

I think it would have been a lot cooler if she was just a touch creepier. If she felt a little bit Wrong. Yeah, in general she's more approachable than her brother, she's more sociable and less closed off, but. If you actually spend any time with her, it can be difficult to tell which child of the underworld is actually more unsettling.

Hazel is bright of personality and has a dazzling smile, but sometimes she'll just... shut down. She'll go completely blank for like half an hour and nobody knows what to do with it. Sometimes she forgets she's alive. Sometimes she'll spout the grimmest shit you've ever heard like it's nothing, she won't even notice it's weird until the room goes quiet. She spent decades in Asphodel, which is designed to make people forget about themselves and wander around for eternity, only she didn't have the luxury of forgetting! Wild! After she comes back to life, sometimes she forgets that she's allowed to Do Stuff now. She can spend so long sitting and staring at nothing. Sometimes she'll start crying on cloudless days because it hits her again that she can actually feel the warmth of the sun on her skin and she can hear birdsong. Every little mundane experience is a blessing and she will make you remember that in the most foreboding way possible.

#hazel levesque #hoo #mj talks #like. i am fascinated with characters who die and come back different and it JUST hit me that there was so much potential for hazel there #the idea of how death lingers was not explored At All in heroes of olympus #of course there's the obvious part in that there were what. 3 named character deaths total? 4 if you count leo #which i very much don't because it didn't stick! there were no consequences to this gigantic war!#the first series did well with that because we had plenty of named characters who died #even though some of them were introduced only to die like six chapters later. we still knew them on some level #and more importantly percy knew them. he felt their loss in a way that made consequences seem real #heroes of olympus didn't have any of that. hazel could have been a great way to talk about it a little more!#also i just love characters who have obviously gone through death. that has to change a person! tell me how it changed you!#anyway. i think i'll make hazel creepier from now on in my writing #she deserves it <3 #nico is creepy in an obvious way. he's got power over death and that clings to him like a second skin. he can't hide it #and he's learned that he doesn't have to. there is power in being othered #hazel seems lovely when you first meet her! none of the death power all of the glitter and gold and riches #and then she'll look you dead in the eye and say 'you really don't know how lucky you are to be able to breathe until you can't anymore'#and move on like it's nothing! what!#underworld siblings

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iamthecomet · 5 months

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Did I really just write 1000+ words of random slice of life ghoul bullshit that I thought was going to be smutty but really just ended up as "Dew helps Mountain with something super mundane"? yes. Apparently, I did. No warnings here. Very much SFW. Just ghouls living their lives. There's a peak into Dew's somewhat angsty thoughts, elemental magic, a kiss, and a suggestive joke or two, but nothing worse than that.

Dew tramps across the Abbey grounds. The sky is snow gray. The world washed out to hues of purple and blue. His breath trails after him in tight puffs of white. His fingers are tucked under his armpits. He’s wearing a flannel that is too thin for the weather and torn jeans. His boots are unlaced, feet bare inside of them as he hurries across the already frosty ground and tries not to slip and fall and die.

The greenhouse is a short walk in the summer–but a long one with a blizzard on the horizon. The sharp windowed peak of the roof is just visible over the crest of the hill. It sits at the base. Vegetable gardens long since put to bed stretch out in front of it. Beyond that, the livestock barn, the pens, the lake. Frozen over. Gray like the sky.

Dew descends the hill, and leaves the Abbey behind him. Sinking slowly into the horizon as he goes. Treading carefully now. Imagining slipping out of his boots, tumbling ass over teakettle (or whatever it is Copia says) all the way down to the greenhouse door. Busting an ankle, a rib or two, well and truly ruining his planned winter of relaxation.

The greenhouse is enormous. A sprawling gabled structure, made of dark metal bones and thick glass walls. A thin metal chimney rises from the far end. Dew drags his eyes up the length of it. No smoke. Mountain really must need him. The greenhouse is pretty. Dew admires the it from afar often. Looking at the scrolled metal edges of the frame, ivy leaves pressed into the metal on the corners of the glass panes. An intricately carved wrought iron and glass door. It’s a lot of work for something so functional.

Dew doesn’t often think about the Abbey before him. That line of thought typically leads to ones about the Abbey after him. And those are unwanted. He can get lost in the realization that he’ll go back to the pit someday. That this strange and wonderful life he’s somehow stumbled into, is temporary, he cannot keep it forever. No matter how hard he tries.

But he does think about these structures. Who built them. Who cared so much that the greenhouse was pretty when all it was meant to do was grow food and flowers. It’s starting to snow by the time Dew gets to the door. Big fat flakes that stick in his eyelashes. The glass is covered in foggy condensation. The plants and earth ghoul inside reduced to blurry silhouettes.

Dew extracts his stiff fingers from under his arms and blows on them a little before he reaches for the metal door handle. It’s cold, but warm pours out of the door when he pulls it open. The greenhouse smells perpetually like summer. Warm and green and humid. Dew slips into the building. Dirt soft under his feet. He shuts the door behind him.

“Quick,” Mountain hisses from the other side of the room. Crouched in front of the woodstove. It’s practically sweltering in here, so it can’t actually be that urgent but Dew hurries over anyway. Careful not to trip on his bootlaces.

Despite the impending apocalyptic weather outside, the greenhouse is cozy, warm, teaming with life. Dew cuts between rows of plants and touches his finger to a young tomato plant, thriving under Mountain’s watchful eye.

“Thought you were just trying to get me down here for something fun,” Dew teases as he reaches Mountain. The earth ghoul is kneeling in the soft dirt in front of the stove. It’s a modern addition to the greenhouse, and therefore temperamental. Dew doesn’t know shit about mechanics or machinery. But he knows a thing or two about fire–and that usually is enough to solve the problem.

The stove is designed to run constantly as long as it’s fed. If Mountain feeds it well enough tonight it will run for the next day or two with a touch of Dew’s magic to help it out. Long enough for the storm to pass without Mountain having to trek out here in the middle of it. He’ll do it anyway if someone doesn’t keep an eye on him.

But that’s a problem for another time–because right now the stove is out, and Mountain can’t get it to light. Dew can smell the frustration on him, wafting off of him in thick waves. Bitter, burnt earth.

“No. This is serious.”

Dew nudges Mountain out of the way and eyes the stove. Crouching in front of the open door. Clean and piled with kindling to get it started.

“Did you really run out of matches.”

Mountain doesn’t answer, but when Dew looks up the bigger ghoul is glaring down at him. Too stressed for this, Dew knows. Especially considering the thorny vines sprouting from around his horns. Dew sighs.

He sparks the fire to life. Easy. Then, as it grows, he feeds it with logs and little bits of his magic. Ties himself to it. He’ll know it goes out, if it gutters. He’ll know long before Mountain even thinks to climb out of his warm bed to check on it.

But it won’t go out. Not as long as Dew is watching it.

Dew stands, closes the door. Heat pours out of the stove and into the room. Dew steps away from it–too much for him. But Mountain slides closer to feel it. Dew stands on his toes and starts plucking the thorny veins from Mountain’s hair. Careful not to prick himself or the earth ghoul as he does it.

“Better?”

Mountain nods. When he glances at Dew now it’s apologetic. Dew waves it off.

“You ready to go before we get stuck in here for a week?”

“I just need to do one more–”

“Mountain,” Dew says, firmly. He grabs Mountain’s hand, laces their fingers together. “I love you, I do. But if we get snowed in because you needed to just check one more thing I will eat you.”

“Fine. Just don’t hurt the plans,” Mountain jokes, pulling on Dew’s grip just a little, enough to get over to his potting bench to start cleaning up. “I’ll eat them first,” Dew promises. “I’ll make you watch.”

Mountain gasps–false offense. He turns back to grin at Dew, bending down to kiss him softly. Bumping their horns together as he pulls away.

“Bullshit,” Mountain nips at Dew’s bottom lip. “You wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

#comet writes #ficlet #I don't know what I'm doing anymore #Mountain/Dew #Dewdrop Ghoul #Mountain Ghoul #slice of life ghouls #I really was going to write smut tonight--I still might #ghost fic #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #ghost band fanfiction

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sapphosewrites · 3 months

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garashir bad ending

(This was inspired by asking myself what I thought Julian would not forgive)

"I fail to see what you find so upsetting."

"Do you really?"

"You knew who I was when you married me."

"You're right. I agreed to marry a paranoid ex-spy with no respect for his husband's privacy or boundaries. My patients didn't."

"I didn't harm your patients."

"You cannot possibly believe that I would excuse your extremely illegal and highly unethical accessing of hospital files, tracking down my patients, and interrogating them because you have this ridiculous idea that I've been hiding an affair from you."

"It was hardly an interrogation. When I was in the Obsidian Order-"

"I want a divorce, Garak. Oh, so that's what shuts you up, is it? I mean it. You've absolutely crossed the line. You've destroyed my professional integrity and quite possibly the hospital's reputation. People need to be able to trust us in order to receive care, and you've jeopardized that. You've compromised the healing of people who know exactly what kind of interrogating you did in the Obsidian Order, and are terrified to be on the receiving end of it again. If you've convinced yourself I'm fucking someone else and lying to you about it, fine, I figured out that you were never going to trust I love you. But you don't do this. You go and- and- I don't know, call Ezri on subspace and ask for a counseling session or get drunk and read terrible poetry or blow up your damn shop again. You can self-sabotage as much as you like, and you've shown very well that I'm powerless to stop you. But you do not get to sabotage my patients."

"If I apologized..."

"Was that unfinished sentence your idea of an apology?"

"My dear, I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you are! I'm sure you'll go and wallow in self-loathing and enjoy it very much, but that can't be how this works, Garak. I shouldn't have to ask for a divorce in order for you to admit you did something wrong. If this is what our marriage is going to be now, then I... I can't, Garak. I don't know what it is that would help you, but whatever it is, I can't provide it."

#my writing #i don't really do bad endings so the secret real ending to this is a second half i may or may not ever write someday #wherein garak does in fact call up an old friend but it's not ezri it's kira #because kira knows what it's like when the world is different and the rules have changed and your family's dead #and none of the ways you used to solve problems work anymore #and also they got close hanging out in mila's basement #and garak's like hm. what if i made a grand gesture of sacrifice #and kira's like what if you learned to interact with people and got a hobby #and over a very long slow period garak has to do the difficult work of finding ways to process his trauma #that don't involve ruining people's lives #even his own

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romanitas · 15 days

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look at me go, it hasn't even been a month! we're back with (i think) the penultimate part of the spy au !! thanks to @perseannabeth who helped me figure out some plot points literally irl for the final stretch. there's always been a vague plan for the end, hopefully it lives up! also again available on ao3 if tumblr formatting screws up.

Annabeth hasn’t seen Percy for four and a half weeks. She’s been off the Jupiter Industries case for just as long, what with Luke Castellan’s involvement; they’re currently restructuring the plan forward. She’s not used to boredom, but she’s not sure she could consider it full boredom when her brain will not stop churning. She’s aware it’s usually a stomach churning, but no, in this case, her mind is on the go in a thousand different directions. She doesn’t feel nauseous or sick - just overwhelmed mentally, which as far as she’s concerned is one of the worst kinds. She’d rather be vomiting.

She’s back at her apartment - her real one. It’s nearly as empty as the fake one. She doesn’t keep a lot of things around, not wanting too many distractions on top of the fact that she feels like she spends very little time actually in it. The most personalization is an owl throw pillow with a matching blanket on the couch and a few architectural prints across her walls. It feels emptier than it ever has, and she cruelly imagines what it might be like if Percy came here. She really, really needs to stop thinking about him, but it feels impossible, because if she’s not thinking about him, she starts to think about Luke. And that’s worse.

She faceplants directly into the owl blanket with a groan and lays there, ignoring the wafting smell of her Korean BBQ takeout sitting on the countertop. This has been her life each day for the last week: different dishes but a very familiar static and face full of fluff, followed by dejectedly eating lukewarm food. And then she just gets mad at herself for being such a sad sack. She’s Annabeth fucking Chase. What the hell did Percy Jackson do to her?

Reyna checks in periodically. She sends minute updates, but not enough for Annabeth to start doing her own poking and prodding. Frank stops by a few times to make sure she’s eating, and she does welcome his company in an absent way. He brings some of the best takeout, but he knows all her favorites. He carries the conversation in directions that serve the best distractions.

“You should use this time to get out,” he says one day, dragging some naan through the rest of his curry. When Annabeth stares at him, he clarifies. “I mean, maybe think of it like a vacation? You never take a vacation. Do things you’ve always wanted to.”

She grumpily shoves her own naan into her mouth to avoid answering him. But maybe he has a point. Maybe she does need to leave the house more often, if only to refresh herself. To get back on her feet. It’s only a matter of time before they give her a new assignment, and she refuses to fall into distractions again next time.

She takes herself out. She ventures further than a ten block radius and tries a new Pho place she’s been wanting to check out. She looks up a current run of temporary exhibitions around the city, buys tickets for three of them. She makes a reservation for herself at one of the museum restaurants, uncaring that it’s definitely overpriced and she can get a burger down the block for half the cost. She is utterly determined to give herself a good, clean, solid break from her time with Percy, so she’s prepared for the next chapter. Whatever it brings.

Naturally, it’s at one of the exhibitions that she runs into Sally Jackson.

Annabeth isn’t sure she could have been caught more off guard by Luke. She turns the corner and nearly runs into the woman, but her instincts make her sidestep at the last second. She’s not fast enough to avoid eye contact, because Sally moves at the same time, an apology on her lips.

“I’m so sorry - Annabeth?”

Why is this her life? Annabeth freezes, and she can feel the guilt rain down on her like a tsunami. She’s very rarely caught off guard like this, but this warm, wonderful woman unnerves her in an unexpected way. She just assumed she would never see her again, another casualty of her break with Percy.

Despite it all, Sally offers her a small, tentative smile. “Hi,” she says, tone infused with that very same warmth Annabeth knows she doesn’t deserve.

She swallows. “Hi,” she replies, weakly.

Sally reaches out to give her arm a gentle squeeze, and Annabeth nearly combusts on the spot. But the older woman can sense her discomfort, because she pulls her hand away just as quickly and sighs. “Will you get a coffee with me?”

Every single part of her is telling her to say no; every rational, logical piece of her being knows this is a bad idea, but there’s a quiet desperation that wins out against her better judgment, and Annabeth nods mutely. Sally smiles again, then walks them both towards the museum cafe. She orders Annabeth’s coffee exactly the way she likes it and orders herself a chai latte. By the time they sit down at the table, Annabeth’s nerves are shot, so she just wraps her hands around the cup and takes a sip, burning her tongue immediately. She winces, and Sally offers her a napkin.

“Percy told me you broke up.”

Annabeth almost laughs, hollowly. There’s no way he would have told her anything - Percy might have been royally pissed at her, but he’s also not cruel, and she knows he wouldn’t jeopardize her by spilling all the beans to his mother. He also wouldn’t want to put his mom in danger. Instead, her shoulders sink, and all she can do is nod once.

“He didn’t really tell me why,” Sally continues, wringing her hands around her own cup. She gets a thoughtful wrinkle in her forehead that looks so much like her son Annabeth almost flinches. “He said it wasn’t his place to share your history, but he did tell me you lied about a lot.”

She doesn’t know if hearing that from Sally is worse than her whole exchange with Percy a month ago. She doesn’t say anything, but her lack of answer is its own confirmation.

“My son is everything to me,” she says, and Annabeth prepares to be reamed out. Why wouldn’t she be? She just broke this woman’s son’s heart, and they’re two of the kindest, best people she’s ever met. “And I have never seen him so miserable.”

It’s not yelling, but it might be worse for real this time. Which is why the next thing Sally says is the most surprising part of all.

“I think he misses you.”

Annabeth’s head whips up so fast, and she says the first thing since her awkward greeting, which isn’t much more articulate. “What?”

It’s Sally’s turn to be quiet, again looking thoughtful as she finally takes a sip of her own drink. “I’m only telling you this because I know he was happy with you. Happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. And I know what he’s like now. I’m not going to ask you what happened. I know you hurt him, deeply, and I know maybe it’s not my place to sit here with you and tell you all of this. I know maybe things have been damaged too greatly. I know it’s his life, not mine. But what I want to ask you anyway is if you want to fix it, and if you still love my son.”

Annabeth’s eyes well up. She can’t answer this one with a nod. It’s everything she’s been trying to push away, the impossibilities of Percy chasing her down more harshly than Luke in the alleyway. “I love him,” she admits, and saying it aloud to someone else nearly knocks the wind out of her. “But I don’t know if I can fix it. I really, really hurt him, and there are parts of it that feel too broken.”

She shouldn’t be sharing this with Percy Jackson’s mother, but there isn’t another person who’s spoken to her about Percy specifically like this. A person who prioritizes Percy the way he should be, no matter what her own stupid heart and head are doing. Frank worries about her, but she’s the one who needs to grovel, and Sally will always, always put her son first.

Sally takes another sip, watching her carefully over the brim. She’s never felt more scrutinized in her life, and she’s a goddamn spy. Annabeth’s been alone for a very long time, and those months with Percy and his friends and his family were the closest she felt like a real, normal person in a long time. But she isn’t normal. She can’t just slip into a real architect’s life and become a new Annabeth Chase.

“Are you willing to try?”

She’s taken aback by the question and the way it connects to her thoughts, and she’s sure the surprise is on her face. “I don’t think he wants me to. It should be his choice, not mine.”

Sally hums. “Will you give me your address?”

“He’s not going to come to my house.”

“It’s for me. Not him. I won’t give it to him.”

She hesitates. She’s unlisted for a reason, her residence deeply under wraps. She still gets mail, of course, and it’s not like she lives there most of the year. But then she stubbornly takes the receipt from the drinks, scribbles the P.O. box on the back before she can second guess herself, and slides it back over. “Can you memorize it and burn it?” she says teasingly, trying not to feel ashamed of joking about it.

Sally slides it into her pocket. “I’m giving you a chance now, because I love my son and I want his happiness more than anything else, but I can see you're in just as terrible a state as he is. I wanted to see for myself, after I realized it was you.” She lifts her drink again, and Annabeth’s not sure if the pause for dramatic effect is intentional or not. “This is not forgiveness. It’s not my place to give it. This is me having a conversation with you, because you’re a very smart, put together woman who has spent a significant amount of time with Percy.”

Annabeth doesn’t feel very put together at the moment, but she’s hardly going to interject.

“And above everything, Percy is my son.”

It’s not a threat, but it almost feels like one. In lieu of another response, Annabeth takes a cowardly sip of her coffee.

“Thank you, for having coffee with me,” Sally says, and it sounds like a goodbye. Like this might be the last thing they ever say to each other. They sit in silence for a few more minutes, finishing their drinks, and it’s Sally who leaves first. She climbs to her feet in a cool movement and adjusts her bag before giving Annabeth a nod, then walks away from the table.

Annabeth sits there for another thirty minutes, though what she spends it thinking about, she doesn’t really remember.

Three days later Annabeth receives a package in the mail, with Sally’s return address. She holds the box in her hands and doesn’t really know how to process it. She sets it on the kitchen island and stares at it, afraid of opening it for stupid reasons. Watching it out of the corner of her eye, she heats up a box of frozen mac and cheese, then reaches for a steak knife to slice open the packing tape as the microwave beeps.

Inside she finds a dozen chocolate chip cookies, wrapped up neatly in a transparent blue bag. Underneath them is an envelope, which she nervously lifts and carefully opens. There’s a note inside, and what looks like two tickets to - to an aquarium. Not just any aquarium, the one where she met Percy - or rather, where she orchestrated her meeting of Percy. Puzzled and sad all at once, she reads the note in Sally’s loopy writing.

Annabeth,

I bought these for you both a month ago. I’m giving them to you alone now as a final gift from me to you, and I hope you use them. Use the time to think about everything. Don’t try to return them.

Perhaps one day we’ll see each other again. Take care.

Sally

#percabeth #annabeth chase #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #i still don't know what the kids are using for tags anymore #it used to be just the first five would show up??? but i don't think it's like that anymore?????#tomato writes #spy auing

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cerise-on-top · 2 months

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Hiiii how are you doing love bug? I wanted to request something where farah notices spouse readers anxiety is high while there out at a celebration party thingy after a successful mission and helps them calm down

(Sorry if this is badly explained it’s my first time requesting something + I have adhd🫶🏻🫶🏻)

Hello! Don't worry, I got you! I hope this is what you wanted! I don't particularly know how to calm someone down, I can't even calm myself down usually, so I just swallow it all down until it goes away ^^;

Farah Senses Reader’s Anxiety

She would likely sense your anxiety as soon as she looked at you. Your eyes were wider open than usual, you’ve gone quiet, giving the occasional nod and smile and that’s it. Something was up, Farah knew you well enough by then to be able to tell. Yes, she may have been a highly coveted person at parties like these, but she could always make time for you, even while she was in the middle of a conversation with someone. As soon as you don’t seem to be doing well, don’t seem to be having fun anymore, she’ll take you somewhere quieter so she can talk to you and maybe help you calm down a bit.

Truth be told, Farah won’t particularly know what to do with you. Sure, she gets anxious at times as well, she leads an entire force, after all, but she usually calms herself down by taking a deep breath and sweeping all those negative thoughts under the rug. While it would be ridiculous to assume the same thing would work for you, she tries anyway. She may be good at building connections with other people, but she doesn’t particularly know how to calm someone down from severe anxiety. However, she will take your hands gently in hers, if you allow it, and will talk to you in the most tender tone you’ve ever heard from her. Her voice is audible still, but quieter than usual and she requests that you try to tune out everything else and only listen to her. While she won’t know what to say, she tries, talking about anything that comes to mind. The small lizard she saw on her way to the party, how she once was able to pet a bunny when she was small. Nice things that would take your mind off of the party. You will be leaving it soon enough, naturally, but before then, you need to calm down first.

If her distracting you doesn’t help, then she’ll try to breathe with you, gently asking you to breathe in, hold your breath for a few seconds, before breathing out again. This will be repeated a few times. If that doesn’t work either, then she will try the 54321 method. Granted, she doesn’t exactly know how it works and will mess it up. But who knows, maybe that will get you to laugh. Farah asks you to tell her what you’re seeing, hearing, feeling and so on and tries to crack jokes here and there to maybe get you to smile. Her attempt at distracting you from your anxiety still hasn’t ceased. Talks you through it all. However, if that doesn’t help either, then she’ll ask you what the source of your anxiety may be. If it’s the party then you’ll be going home immediately. Or, at the very least, get away from it as far as you can. If it’s something else then she’ll still try to help you somehow, reassuring you that she’ll do whatever she can to assist you. If it’s alright with you, then, after the party, you’ll go stargazing together. The vastness of the universe has always helped her calm down, and maybe she can tell you some stories she’s heard about the different constellations as well. Either way, she’ll be taking care of you as well as she can during the evening, until you calm down. And then you’ll be cuddling the night away, if you’re calm enough to want to be touched. Farah will hold you to her chest, hum a little lullaby and run her fingers through your hair.

#cod #cod x reader #farah karim #farah karim x reader #I don't really have to say much today either #except I probably have to get surgery soon enough to which I say boo #I'll have to go on sick leave again soon and I really don't wanna but it can't be helped #but that has time until after I've gotten my driver's license #Farah is a real sweetheart. she tries her hardest even if she doesn't know whether or not she will succeed #you're one of the most important people in her life so naturally she'll do what she can to make sure you're doing well #if a hug is what usually helps you then she will hug you don't worry. but anxious people don't always like that so I didn't write it #again Farah just distracts herself whenever she gets anxious. although she doesn't get as anxious anymore as she used #her anxiety used to be far worse when she was a kid but she's got it handled these days

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not-poignant · 1 month

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how do you have the time to write all this stuff /and/ play video games etc etc at the same time? Is it just that you write insanely fast after all these years? I have a lot of hobbies, writing being one of them, and i have such a hard time juggling them lol.

Hi anon,

So, real talk -> The reality is I don't have the time to write and play video games at the same time most of the time.

I haven't written anything since the 17th. I haven't started the next Palmarosa chapter. I'm on day 8 of not having opened a new document and writing anything.

I've edited a whole two chapters (which I suspect I have to go over again) and I've responded to some comments and asks, and that's it. No writing, no growing wordcount, I've been stagnating / not doing anything due to burnout since the 17th (I know the date because I have a giant whiteboard of completed chapters next to me).

Honestly, most of the time I don't actually have the time to read, play video games, watch television, or movies. I am too busy writing/editing/sleeping. With Toby in the mix, the small amount of media I was consuming has vanished.

Sometimes I can play certain video games while writing - these are usually low stakes video games I can endlessly put on pause and then play for five minutes at a time, like Dorfromantik and Garden Galaxy. Any kind of idler video game, like Havendock is also good for this.

Anon, you can't have a lot of hobbies and actually keep up with them and write the way I do, and therapist/s wouldn't recommend you drop all of your hobbies to write the way I do anyway. Trust me.

I had two things I wanted to start learning this year, and I haven't started learning them yet. I don't have the capacity. I had a therapist gently point out to me that if I was always at 100 in terms of output, how can I have any energy leftover for self-work and processing? The answer is: I don't. (That's actually why I've spent a week playing video games, and if anything it's just reminded me that my capacity is still at 100 and this is going to take a bit of concerted decompression).

Most of the time it's not normally quite this overwhelming. Toby has just maxed me out because he's a high energy dog who is also a puppy with Separation Anxiety, and there's no quick or easy fix for that. But most of the time it's still very intense. The list of shows I really want to watch, and books I really want to read, is very long. But I often don't have time to indulge in those things because I'm too busy writing.

A lot of the time I don't actually have the time to reread my own fics anymore, outside of editing.

This year was meant to kind of tackle that more decisively but you know then we got a puppy so... not so much.

But yeah anon, there is no 'how do you do this and do this' - you don't do one of those things, or you do it very haphazardly, in small amounts.

I do write very fast (my wordcount is 120-150wpm), but I don't edit fast (I'd tender that editing fast for most people is a bit of an oxymoron), I don't answer asks fast (some of the longer ones take me an hour to compose), etc. And even then, writing fast is not the same as the time it takes to think out the chapter, to figure out what's happening, letting it percolate etc. A lot of my life is also just resting. I lose about 2-5 hours of every afternoon to sleep or rest for example, where nothing productive happens. And I think one of the reasons I read so many manwha atm is that they're so easy to read comparatively, and so quick, and that's the only way I can really consume stories these days.

#asks and answers #what folks think they're seeing on the surface is often not is what is actually happening #those who track my wordcount on discord (where i update it)#will notice it's not been updated since the 17th #will i write anymore chapters between here and the end of the month?#i don't know #and if i don't #i will have to work even harder next month dsalkfjasfas #anyway yeah no most of your hard working creatives around you #cannot actually find the life-work balance that allows them to enjoy their lives and leisure time and their hobbies #even if they're writing about characters who are learning how to do those things #part of it is capitalism - it's hard to take a break when your antidepressants went up in price #(which is a broader ironic analogy to life in general)

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