grantwilson

[grantwilson]

! URGENT PLEASE HELP !

I hate to have to do this again, but here we are. It is May 17th, 2025 as I write this. The dental work from my previous post is sorted, but another emergency has come up. The washing machine in my mum's flat is very nearly dead, and there's no laundromat within a reasonable range to be able to substitute, so I need to ask y'all to help me raise £300 for a new one. Anything above that will go toward general survival, as my benefits only just cover food and the inconsistent buses here mean I have to take an Uber more often than not for job centre appointments and, if I ever get one, job interviews. Anything you can donate would be appreciated, but only do so if you can spare it. Thank you very much.

https://www.paypal.me/Watson924

[grantwilson]

Harper Drabble

[Since this was already written and drafted I might as well post it. This was mostly just a way to try and find their voice and I think I did? Anyway, it's kind of a mess because I can't really think right now to work on it. Enjoy 💖]

Their fingers press against your back. Red and purple discoloration paint fist-sized bruises across your skin. They forgot how taut your body was. You’d never been a fan of touch, they knew that so they eased off more times than they wished. But cutting you off for five years left them in a drought. They realized they should have taken more from you. Every moment you were with them they should have wrapped themselves around you. Would you have thrown them off or allowed them leech the sensation of your skin on theirs? 

But you’re back... or was Harper back? The fight was confusing, and it never came to a satisfying conclusion. They weren’t sure who exactly left who by the end, maybe because you were released from the hospital before them that they thought you were the one who left and they remained. Did you feel the same? Did they leave first to you?

You were certainly the resident of their heart. And you left. So clearly it was you who was back now, and Harper remained waiting for your return. Or were you the home that Harper tried to scorch and flee? A home that remained standing despite the damage, a home that for all their cruelty welcomed them back.

It didn’t matter. You two were together, the drought was drowned, and Harper could touch you again-

“Fuck.” You hiss, your back spasming to escape their fingers. Harper’s gaze flits down your back to their hand. They didn’t realize they were putting pressure on the bruise. It was strange how much damage you could take while their touch would be the one you jump away from. Even in an intimate moment like this.

“Sorry.” They whisper. You're on the floor between their legs, the two of you sharing a silk blanket to cover your half naked bodies.

“Just be gentle.” They could hear the grin in your voice. 

“Always.” They say. It wasn’t a lie, Harper never wanted you to feel pain. But perhaps it would be dishonest to say they wouldn’t hurt you again. That was a fact of how you two interacted, one of you would always end up damaged. But if they fought against that inevitability at least they would delay it, soften the hit, do anything to protect you from themselves.

It wasn’t like this before, you two were a fire that burned through the city. Every burn they got was exhilarating once. They weren’t so careful back then. You simply raged together once. But now you terrified them in ways Harper never thought you would. Seeing you once inspired passionate thoughts, now all you brought was making them feel so soft. That was the hard pill to swallow here; the fact that you didn’t burn with them anymore, that they didn’t want you to either just made it bitter. How dare you do this to them? Make everything feel like a warm bed instead of an inferno. Maybe they should push on that bruise again to ignite something again. 

Harper’s lips gently kiss the back of your neck before slowly taking their hands away from you. Once their touch had lifts they feel you melt back into them. You shift, resting a cheek on their thigh, Harper feels your eyelashes move as you relax, closing your eyes and taking a long deep breath. 

Fuck. You trust them enough to rest like this? Why? After the pain they caused you, after the pain they will inevitably cause you, why would you do this? You were trusting poison. Venom. They were a viper and you were allowing them to strike. It was their nature to hurt you so why won't you flee?

Why didn’t they want you to flee? You should. They know you should. But they didn’t want you to go. That’s how Harper could tell that they didn’t love you. It was a question they mulled around in their head for a while. If they loved you then they would have kicked you out, exiled you from their life once again. If they loved you they wouldn’t have even let you come back. But you were here and they didn’t want you to be anywhere else but here. They were selfish like that, if Harper loved you then they would protect you from themselves.

“I can get some ice, if you want.” The offer came out of them before they could think it through. But it was something to get away from you. Remove the knife before it could stab you through the heart.

“No.” You say. Your voice is soft, neutral at worst, but something deep in Harper burns. Your eyes are still shut but now your head tilts back enough for them to see you. You're upside down to them at this angle. If their back didn’t hurt so much lately then they would lean down and kiss you like some superhero. Your hips shift between their ankles and you continue. “Just got cozy.” You let out a soft, nearly silent laugh.

And then you decide to be cruel yet again, to dig your claws into their guts once more and rend them. You pivot your head, nearly imperceptibly, and your soft lips kiss them on their thigh.

Electric thrill shoots through Harper’s system. They despise it. How small an act could be that would leave them devastated. They should leave. This was their home but they’d abandoned one before, they could do it again. 

“I hate you.” They lie, trailing a finger gently behind your ear. They couldn’t hide the want from their voice.

“You don’t.” You reply, so confident. You had every right to be but it was still annoying. You kiss again, and again Harper's stomach tightens.

“I do.” Amusement replaces the desire, their lips twitch upwards and they prop their head against their hand, settling in for the long haul of watching you.

You tilt your head back further, your eyes fluttering open to watch them. Harper wants to smack that half-lidded gaze off your face. You know what you're doing. They will not play into your trap. You watch each other. Two assassins, two targets. They will not fall for this trick. Not again.

Fine.

Harper moves. Gently shifting, lowering their hands to trap your head between them, you're a fly caught in their web now. Slowly they lean forward despite the pain that shoots through their back, and place their lips on yours. The kiss stings as they break it off.

“God. I hate you.” They rasp, slumping back into the couch. Harper can ignore your laugh, they can ignore the heat in their cheeks, they can ignore the pops in their back. But they could not ignore the stirring in their chest.

[grantwilson]

life is so much better when you have a work of fiction to obsess over

[grantwilson]

[grantwilson]

[grantwilson]

being a 17776 fan feels like chewing drywall. guys. guys this story ostensibly about american football changed me. no guys you should read it - well when I say read I mean experience it really - no no it's online it's free - no it won't break your computer this is normal it's okay i promise it's not even really about football. well no actually it's about satellites. yeah the Jupiter Explorer is in it and they're a little shit. yeah no the gender binary doesn't exist in 17776. yes i meant 17776 not 1776. it's not even really about satellites. it is though. please i am begging you read this it changed me.

[grantwilson]

id tag game changer spoilers but what does that even mean at this point

[grantwilson]

Congrats! You've just found yourself a Familiar.

Spin the wheel to find out which.

[grantwilson]

spin this wheel of all the pokemon. you now have to fight this pokemon. just you and it, bare-knuckle

[grantwilson]

is anyone else not vibing with the always looming sense of impending doom or is it just me

[grantwilson]

You've been turned into an animal

Spin the wheel to find out which

[grantwilson]

Sigourney Drabbles

[Wrote a bit on the car trip here. I also have one in the bank for Harper. I’ll end up posting drabbles for the other characters who haven’t got a mini game, enjoy the unedited mess. ❤️]

Shortness of breath. Increased heart rate. Sweating. Chills.

Symptoms too irregular to diagnose as any one ailment, too frequent to ignore. Unfortunately the pattern suggests that the present symptoms only happen in the vicinity of…

The obvious cure would be to separate from the source, stop talking to it, stop thinking about it. She wouldn’t give this advice to her patients, of course. But she’s a surgeon, not a therapist, and as a surgeon cutting things out of people is her specialty. A scalpel for skin, scissors for muscles, a saw for bone. Nothing so clean for this though. It would be so easy to cut out… the source of these feelings. But it would be messy. Evidence suggests increased time away from the source only seems to cause a variety of new symptoms. Melancholy. Irritability. Chest pains. Stomach aches.

If a cure will only give worse symptoms, then Sigourney fails to see that as an option.

The cause of her symptoms lies beside her. She wasn’t an insomniac but she felt like one tonight. Grand. Difficulty sleeping added to the symptoms you cause. Surely there’s a logical explanation for all of this. She’s no hypochondriac but watching you sleep felt like an infection was taking hold of her.

The warmth of your body. Your fluttering, dreaming eyes. Your parted lips.

You probably didn’t feel the ways she did. You slept soundly whilst she could not. You were cool whilst she was not. You were divine.

Could divinity feel as humans do? Would it not make sense if they felt more than humans? Less? It’s a question she asked herself for years, a question she forgot about until you. Surely you feel less about her than she feels about you. You’re a god. She’s mortal. Gods could not… like mortals. Not the same as she… likes you. She wants you to feel the same way as she did. Even now she wishes to kneel at your altar and pray. A suitable desire to have about a god she supposes. But her desires only spiral as the thought persists. She doesn’t have an altar yet she wants to see you kneeling at one for her, head raised, fingers pressed against her thighs, tongue-

Was this blasphemy? She was raised too catholic to have an unbiased view of religion. Lingering fears poison most thoughts she has about your very nature. The nature she’s studied very intimately. But humans had relations with gods in your day. Wanting to fuck in a temple, on an altar, it’s only natural. Anyone in her position would feel the same.

She needs to focus. This wasn’t about lust. It wasn’t about worship either. Whatever was causing these feelings was clearly an illness, something she was used to dealing with. That’s all this was. Just because it’s name eluded her didn’t mean it wasn’t curable. If she just found the right disease maybe she’d be able to get rid of the symptoms.

Perhaps she should consult a colleague. Right. That’s what she’ll do. She needs a gameplan. Something to get rid of this. Something to make her normal again. Doctor Cassidy was an asshole but he’d at least take it seriously. She couldn’t trust him to keep a secret though. Maybe not him. Doctor Rahal was a bit too flirty for her to typically go to him. But he’d keep a secret for her.

Maybe none of her colleagues were right for this. She’d schedule an appointment with someone in midstate. No. Upstate. Far away, with good reviews. Someone who will tell it to her straight and someone who wouldn’t start blabbing to the first group of vaguely bored nurses they see. Or at least if they do talk it wouldn’t make it to the hospital.

“You’re spiraling again.” Somehow your voice makes things worse and better. It’s infuriating. Soothing and scaring her. Another reason why gods frustrate her. No mortal has done this to her, it's clearly some weird power you must have.

She turns and sees you, features soft and lazy from sleep. She shouldn’t look at you but she does, the little hum of energy inside of her exploding as you meet her eyes. “I’m not.” Her voice is firm, almost clipped, but you’re not deterred.

“You are. I can practically feel it.” Annoying. “You’re like a ball of static, Sig.” The way you drawl out her name makes her want to kiss you. Or bite you. Probably both.

“It’s winter. The air’s dry and we’re under a wool blanket. Of course I’m going to be staticky.” She says dismissively, words coming out quick and chaotic. Though she knows she’s wrong to do so. You can’t dismiss a god but you can turn your back on one. So she does, literally it seems. Turning to face away from you.

Infuriatingly you take this as an invitation, moving up behind her, nuzzling your face into her hair and wrapping your arms around her waist. “Mh.” You moan quietly behind her. “Tell me about it.” You whisper.

Ha! Like that would get her talking about her feelings. “I’m anxious.” Fuck. Where did that come from? She thinks quickly and continues. “About a patient.” It’s not a lie, there are only a few laws saying you can’t be your own patient, she can ignore those for this.

You run a hand over her stomach, pulling her closer. She can feel your breath hot on her back, it makes something in the pit of her stomach turn. “What’s happened?” You ask, voice still thick with sleep.

She shakes her head a bit. “She’s just sick. With something strange. She’s been dating this person and every time she’s near them she feels ill. Feverish symptoms, increased heart rate, sweating. And I don’t know what it could be.”

“Mh.” You moan quietly again. “Life threatening?”

She gently shakes her head. “I don’t think so.” Though it felt like it all too often.

“Sounds like love.” You whisper.

Her back tightens, going rigid under the words. If you hadn’t been holding her she would have run. “This is serious.” She says.

You laugh in that annoyingly fantastic laugh. “Sorry. Then maybe it’s allergies?”

“No.” She says. You don’t have any pets, after all. That wouldn’t make any sense.

“You should rest.” Your voice is a whisper, you press your lips to the back of her neck and the heat you bring makes her sink. “You’ll have a clear mind in the morning.”

She won’t. Not with you.

[grantwilson]

[grantwilson]

rebis appreciation post

[grantwilson]

A beach (at the coast, not a lake), Earth 🌊

[grantwilson]

tomorrow im really gonna give it my nothing

[grantwilson]

collecting posts of this type