AYEEEEEE MILES MORALES TRYING OUT HIS NEW BURGER KING SPECIAL!!!!!
WILL HE LIKE IT?!!!
no. no it was shit who the fuck thought of this
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no more fics of jeremy apologizing for the bathroom scene. he was totally justified for most of the scene btw. "maybe i got lucky, is that so weird? i'd say with my history the universe owed me one." don't make jeremy take that back. you know deep down he means those words more than anything. make him apologize for calling michael a loser and every other hurtful thing he did but do not make him apologize for wanting to move forward with his life!! his methods ≠ motivations. yes he kinda did it all in a really bad way but he is not obliged to stay with michael forever. if he wants to move forward onto a life without michael then he literally can. bmc bathroom scene i love you... ppl only ever talk about the loser scene and brush off what jeremy is actually saying and it sucks so bad he just wants to feel like his life isn't shit for once and that he actually has control in it. is that so bad. friends don't stay friends forever guys sorry sometimes you're the one holding your friend back from their true potential sorry sorryyyyy and it's not like that's to say that they have to stop being friend forever it's just. i'm sure jeremy only ever thinks of himself as this attachment to michael. always stuck in his shadow, player 2, michael's friend, etc. and he can never actually grow into his own person if he just lets himself stay there. if michael keeps him there. not to pull a completely seperate media into this but nozomi and mizore from liz and the blue bird rlly. show what i'm trying to say here .
"Was the blue bird unhappy?" / "I don't know. But she wants Liz to be happy. I know that's true. That's the blue bird's expression of love. She has to fly away."
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The inherent tragedy of Aventurine's older sister being nameless messes with me daily. To love someone so much, clutching any memory close to the chest, any memento carefully kept hidden and never given for a better life, and yet there is the inherent thievery of time, robbing us of details we once held dear.
I like to chalk up her not having a name to him not remembering it anymore. He might have an inkling, but cannot be sure, and there is no one he can ask to clarify. He might remember her face if he tries, but can't confidently point to the shade of her eyes; he might remember the texture of her skin, but it's only an echo that feels like a dream. He remembers her voice so clearly, but her name uttered by others faded with the sands, and the memory is hazy to the point that even if he guessed correctly, it won't feel right.
There is so much loss in his life, often by external forces of greed and hatred; people were cruel and sometimes he might be even crueler to himself to feel in control. But in this inherently unjust destiny he is dragged through, time is taking the most precious thing he has from his past as Kakavasha - the memory of his big sister, the one who loved him the most and last - and there is no one that knows about her existence. She will be forgotten, not just because of the merciless sands of Sigonia and the cruel fate bestowed upon his people by others, but also eventually by him as time marches on, never turning back.
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Midnight Rain & Sidney Crosby! 🫶
meet me at midnight | contains: fem!reader, a n g s t (yk it's my jam) | "and he never thinks of me, except when i'm on tv"
i've been wanting to test this water for a while (the water of news reporter reader). i'm taking the opportunity, if you want me to rewrite i will!
sidney has done everything in his power to avoid you. you, your friends, your friends friends, your coworkers- anything that involves you, he has tried his absolute best to avoid you. but all that work for the past four months went up in flames as he sat down on his couch, and turned his tv on.
it was simple, it was out of habit. sitting down late at night, a glass of bourbon in his hand while he propped his feet up on the coffee table and turned the damn tv on. there he saw you, in your solid blue dress that he liked so much, hair straightened, red lipstick on, sitting behind the reporters desk.
you were on his tv, you might as well have been right in his living room. sidney couldn't even tell what you were saying, his gaze was so transfixed on your face, on your body, on how the camera did change some of your appearance but not all of it. for a moment, just a teeny tiny moment, a grin came on his face and he missed you.
he missed you, for just a second, he missed you. he missed the smell of your perfume and how he could smell it on his blankets. he missed how you'd always greet him with a little poke to the arm or side. he missed when you'd come in his house and go straight to the fridge to grab a drink. he missed how you would, no matter how many times he told you not to, parked a couple houses down from his. he didn't think it was safe.
but then he remembered. he remembered the pain and hurt you caused him. he remembered the pure agony and sadness he went through for a solid month; he's still going through it. the pain of the breakup of the woman he thought he was going to marry...nothing compares.
he remembered and the frown quickly went away. he hadn't thought of you in at least a few weeks and then he sees you on his tv, and now he knows he's gonna need at least three more glasses of bourbon to go to sleep tonight.
he controls himself by turning off the television and taking a deep breath. he finishes the glass that he just poured to only go make another, and another, and another. by the third glass he's huffing up the stairs with every step he takes.
sidney turns on a movie to distract his mind to go to sleep, but he's angry in his dreams too. he sees you in his dreams, and he dreams of yelling and screaming and throwing things, but he knows that in real life he could never do that. no matter how much he was hurt by you, he couldn't bring himself to do that in person. so, he does it in his dreams. where he then dreams of getting over you, but he knows that won't happen for a while.
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