#i actually have 2000000 wips

[ughgoaway]

🤔 🛠️ <33333

hiiiiii!!!

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

ohmygod... soooo many.

First time w/matty and teacher reader and my chaptered Ross fic come to mind first tho...

but currently, my brain is exclusively on teacher au angst, which I am excited to write as soon as I can eeee

🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

I am VERY nervous about doing the first kiss/confessing feelings fic for teacher reader... its such a monumental moment and I feel like nothing I write is right ahhhh

so struggling with that whole fic tbh, but specifically what matty is going to say!!

[samrieimg]

It’s taking me forever to actually finish my WIPs current chapters, so have random slices from Sugar Lips since it’s been 8 months since I’ve uploaded a chapter, and I still have failed to write the first half of the chapter.

(Spoiler for the next chapter)

Wilbur felt his heart in his chest, and he settled his hand over it again. It was pulsing, nervous, filled with anticipation of something going so awfully wrong. Maybe something was going to go bad. He felt so sure in his gut it would. His mouth moved faster than his thoughts.

“Aren’t you worried I’m dangerous? Or crazy?”

“Should I be?”

“Yes.”

Phil huffed. He tapped his fingers against his steering wheel and said sardonically, “Tell you what, if you’re crazy and you’ve become a prolific serial killer, we deal with it at six in the morning rather than one.” Wilbur weakly chuckled. Phil managed a grin. “No, the real horror is what if I’ve become a serial killer. Nearly considered it a better career choice than GTA.”

Wilbur scoffed and he sunk into the seat of the car. “I don’t feel like I’m safe—that I’m a safe person.”

Phil considered it. “You’re not safe for yourself or everyone else?”

His reflection the side mirror looked terrible. His eyes were shadowed, eyes dilated with a feverish glint, his mouth bruised, his hair thrown about and clumped in such a way all his insecurities showed—his hairline, the possibility he might be balding, the acne or ingrown hair that worked its way near an edge. Something he was so painfully familiar with yet looked so strange.

“Both,” Wilbur said.

Phil hummed. “I’ve felt that way. Before I met Kristin, I stayed all cooped up, married to school, a shitty job, and gaming, God forbid I do anything more. I was miserable—I felt like shit most of the time, but it felt safer than risking giving up a quiet night in with something as draining as a bar. And then I met her, and I thought like a dumbass that being with a girl would fix everything wrong in my life.”

“It didn’t,” Wilbur guessed.

“I think I made her life slightly more difficult for a few months here and there,” Phil admitted. “So, I took small baby steps. I went out. Joined clubs. Made friends. Fucked up a lot. Definitely had my share of public embarrassments, especially when you dragged me to the bar”—Phil chuckled to himself at that— “but I don’t regret it. We still have quiet nights in.”

“But you’re…you,” Wilbur said. “I don’t know if I can change.”

“You won’t know until you try, Wilbur,” Phil said.

“Easier said than done,” Wilbur muttered, as Phil slowed to a stop, backing into a parking space in front of a nice, quaint, but not as horrendous as his own apartment complex.

“It is, but you’ve already started, haven’t you?” Phil said, and he stopped the car. Wilbur stared at his lap, the night hitting him. He wiped at his face as tears started pooling in his eyes. He was unable to swallow.

“No, no, Phil, I haven’t,” Wilbur said. Phil didn’t look at him right away, but he saw his eyes dart to him, then to the other cars parked. Phil leaned on his car door before he opened it.

“Then you can always start. You’ve had a rough night, haven’t you?”

...

(Also, have this scene i”ve had for like 2000000 years because its def needed) “Wilbur, you’re a genius. So, you clearly predicted my parents would read the next email sent to me, right? And your email threw them off,” Tommy said. “I thought you were serious for a moment and was really upset and angry, but I think that really sold it, and so my mom finally stopped bringing you up every spare second.” 

Wilbur swallowed, coughed. 

“Yeah.”

“But I know now! You did it because you knew they’d read it!” Tommy said, hooking an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t worry, Wilbur. I’m not upset anymore. You’re just a big genius man. Quackity had me make a new email and told me I couldn’t leave it auto-logged on, and so that’s the one I have to talk to the lawyer with. I also emailed Ranboo on it, and had him help me deciphering some of the laywer’s talk, because I didn’t want to admit to Quackity and the lawyer I don’t understand some of it.”