tiktok may be gone but at least I still have THE Jhutch edit.
My little sister was complaining about a boy in one of her classes and I swear she said his name was ‘Clapton’
I have such severe brain rot 😔
the amount of accounts of joshes characters are just feeding into my delusions
shamelessly plugging this from my side blog
‘It’s astronomy, we’re two worlds apart’
Wally Clark x fem!reader
Summary: After suffering a near-fatal fall off the school roof, you started seeing things that weren’t actually there. Or- people who weren’t actually there.
Warnings: mentions of suicide, addiction, drugs, lots of angst.
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Your legs dangled off the roof, the moon's dim light illuminating the grass below. Tears filled your waterline and your eyebrows pulled together. Silent sobs filled the night air, getting lost in the whispers of the wind.
There was no sugarcoating it, no easy way to say it–Your life fucking sucked. Drugged out Dad, your Mom out of the picture, the whole nine yards. If your life were a shitty low-budget movie, you and Nicole would’ve laughed at the lazy plot of it all.
Nicole.
The poison of her name ran through your veins and tore a hole through your heart. You’d grown up with her, she was there through your worst moments, and you were there for hers. But when you hit middle school, it wasn’t you and her against the world. It was always Maddie.
Maddie. Maddie. Maddie.
You truly had nothing against her. You had nothing against her, or Simon, or even Xavier of all fucking people. But everything in the past few years was always about her. The two of you were simply friends by extension. Two separate people pushed into the same friend group. But still, it seemed like the whole world revolved around her.
Nicole always had an obsession with Maddie. What she ate, what she wore, how she decorated her locker…Down to how she fucking spoke. Nicole copied every. Single. Part of her. You never knew if she wanted her, or if she wanted to be her. Whatever it was, it drew you two apart. You slowly started losing your best friend.
The pain and loneliness was beginning to be too much. You felt so suffocatingly alone, the only person you could confide in being lost in a la-la land of infatuation.
So, you found yourself on top of the school roof at 2 in the morning. It wasn’t high enough to die. Maybe high enough to make you hurt. High enough so someone would actually care for you. The thought of jumping crossed your mind- just for a split second. It was a fleeting thought, soaring quickly through your head like a turbojet.
Tears began to spill harder, gushing out of your eyes like a fountain. Your sobs became louder. You grounded the meat of your palms into your eyes, desperate to stop the tsunami from streaming down your face.
Behind you, words faded in and out of the breeze, and heavy whispers echoed across the silent roof.
“Is… she…”
“I….do- know…”
It was bits and pieces of phrases you shouldn’t have been hearing. Phrases that broke through the barrier of life and death itself. You didn’t know it at the time, though. Still, you whipped your head around, your lip quivering just slightly. Shadows faded in and out across the roof, the air seemingly moving in the wrong direction.
Your sobbing quickly died down, and you squinted, your head beginning to swim with confusion. The shadows shifted in and out of reality, almost. You would not have noticed them if you hadn’t been looking so meticulously.
The phantom-like whispers snuck closer as if reaching out for you. Your heart began to pick up speed, beating against your chest painfully. Breath hitching in your throat, you hastily stood up. Palms slick with sweat, goosebumps bursting across your skin, legs trembling, you yelled out, begging them to stop.
You couldn’t comprehend the gravity of your situation, couldn’t comprehend what the hell you were seeing. You took a step back, your heel hooking on the lip of the roof. Gravity took control, yanking you down over the edge.
The last thing you saw was a large hand stretching out towards you.
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Wally loomed over you, his head tilted. Eyebrows knitted together with concern, he glanced over to Rhonda and Charley, who seemed oddly standoffish.
“Is… Is she okay?” He questioned.
Rhonda rolled her cherry lollipop against her cheek, “I don’t know Moose, maybe she’s just sleeping?”
Wally narrowed his eyes at her. Why couldn't she understand the urgency of the situation? Here was a girl, lying half-dead on school property with a puddle of blood pooling beneath her head.
“What if she dies?” Wally slid his hands into his pockets, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. His teeth sunk into the plush skin.
Charley frowned, wringing his hands together. “I mean… We can’t really do anything, Wally,” He reasoned. Wally knew he was right. If you died, you died. He couldn’t stop it. But it didn’t stop him from feeling any less awful. He felt… Drawn to you–in some incomprehensible way.
The group whipped their heads back down to you when you stirred. A soft groan escaped your lips. They watched with bated breath as you brought a shaky hand to the back of your head. You pulled your fingers back to your eye line, your pupils dilating at the smear of crimson.
The back of your skull throbbed with a searing, blinding pain that drew out another groan. You scrunched your eyelids together, fuzzy dots crowding your vision. At the same time, Wally crouched down next to you, fingers sprawled out on the soft grass.
Soft earth rustled beneath the soles of Rhonda’s boots as she turned on her heel. Charley glanced at you, then at Wally, then back at Rhonda. Confliction flashed across his soft features. As bad as he felt, there was nothing he could physically do.
“We should probably go,” Charley grumbled.
Still, Wally looked back down at you. He brought his fingers a feather’s touch away from your jaw before drawing them back. As much as he wanted to reach out to you, to help you, he couldn’t. He sat back on his haunches and took one last look at your pretty face.
Charley and Rhonda were halfway across the field when your eyes slowly cracked open. Wally’s eyes widened as you looked at him. Your eyes didn’t look through him. They looked at him. Your gaze pierced through the noise of the wind around you. It locked onto him with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn’t possible. You were living. Breathing. Your soul was still tied to the land of the living. You still had a fucking pulse, a heartbeat.
“What the fuck…” He whispered.
You don’t remember what happened next. Only that you scrambled up, despite the agony in your head and the strain in your bones, and found yourself at home just minutes later, shoes caked in mud.
You don’t know what the fuck you thought you saw. It was a hallucination. Your brain had conjured his image up, projected him in front of you. You fell off the roof, for fucks sake.
Still, your eyes glided over to a picture on the wall of your living room. In it, stood your dad and his high school best friend--Who died 40 years ago.
It’s basically a requirement to read the rest atp.
Its 1am.
I started reading the first hunger games book today.
I also finished reading the first hunger games book today.
No, I'm not okay, thanks for asking.
someone NEEDS to make a Sean account
he’s the only one we’re missing ☹️☹️
him in that first pic has me FOAMING at the mouth oh my god
i need to rub my face all over him like a cat
IM CRYING
My miraculous phase is coming back to haunt me with this
Am I crazy or...??
I honestly wonder how that went. I know josh produced the show as well so did he just pull up and say
“Okay guys in this scene i’ll be fighting myself naked wearing a 13 inch dick.”
(I have no idea what's going on here actually but in my head that's what's happening)
Thank you bb 🙏💕
Afab!reader x Mike Schmidt
pt 1 pt 2
WC: 2.1k
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, slow burn, enemies to friends(?) Slight angst, mentions of custody/family issues, fluff, no use of y/n
A/N: I just wanted to say I'm so sorry for taking almost a year to write this. I was originally going to leave it unfinished, but it didn’t feel fair, plus I've been itching to write something. Sorry this is short, I felt like you guys deserved some clarity at least. Also, I’ve been practicing writing these past few months, so hopefully the quality has increased!
(I did change the tense, so I'm sorry for the difference from the prior parts.)
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Mike was never the type to lie. Ever. He wasn’t perfect all 6 years, but no one is. But, just hours ago he drunkenly admitted he lied to you for years.
The lie ran through your head like poison, infecting your blood, and making it impossible to think.
He was drunk. He could barely make it down the hall without your help. But, it was such an odd confession, and he said it with such conviction you had no choice but to believe it was the truth. You had always believed drunken words were sober thoughts.
Either way, those 5 little words caused you to call out sick to work the next day. How could you work? How could you walk through the fluorescent-lit halls and act like your world wasn’t torn apart just 12 hours before?
Clapton was still blowing up your phone with texts filled with worry and frustration. You felt bad, sure, but you just couldn’t deal with him.
You flipped open your phone, scrolling through the long slew of messages.
“Why aren’t you answering me? Did I do smth?”
“U good?”
“Yea. I haven’t been feeling good recently, sry.”
It wasn’t just an excuse; you genuinely felt like shit. A heavy pit settled in your stomach, and a wave of exhaustion washed over you. The thought of confronting Mike loomed over you like a dark cloud. You knew you needed to talk, but the mere thought filled you with dread, tightening your chest and making it hard for you to breathe.
After long, restless hours in bed, the pain in your heart became unbearable, a heavy burden weighing you down. With a deep breath, you finally pushed the sheets aside and got up. The silence of the hall closed in around you as you approached Mike’s door. You hesitated briefly before knocking softly, the sound cutting through the stillness.
With every silent second, your heart pounded louder in your chest, and your palms grew slick with sweat. A chilling wave swept down your spine, tightening the grip of anxiety. The hairs on your arms prickled as the locks clicked and echoed in the silence. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the irrational fear that gripped you.
The door creaked open, and there stood Mike, silhouetted by the dim light behind him. You took a long look at him, your eyes tracing the dark circles under his eyes. He was wearing nothing but basketball shorts. His soft brown curls were a tangled mess, and his skin had an unusual greenish hue. With his eyebrows furrowed together in pain, you could tell that he was suffering from an awful hangover.
“Hey. How are you feeling?” You asked, unable to shake the feeling that he might have forgotten the words he said that carried so much meaning.
Mike sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God, I’ve been an ass, haven’t I?” he asked, regret evident in his voice. You chuckled softly, silently agreeing with him.
“It’s… Fine.”
“But, it’s not.” He said, his voice shaky, “You’re so… Good to me. You always have been.” You snapped your eyes up and looked into his.
“I just… I just don’t understand why you’ve been this way, Mike.”
“I- God, things have just been a mess with Abbs and my Aunt.”
“Mike…”
“I know. I know, it’s no excuse. I just... You were always my rock. You were the only one who could calm me down, who could help me work through my bullshit.”
The hatred that simmered deep in your soul slowly melted out of your body the more he talked. The tension in your shoulders deflated, and a sad smile crawled across your face.
“Then why’d you leave me?”
Mike winced, your words stabbing through his beating heart. Before he could speak, you hesitantly brought up the prior night.
“You… You said something last night. That- There wasn’t another girl?”
His eyes widened and his pupils dilated. The horror in his eyes made it apparent that neither of you were ready to have this conversation.
“I think it’s best if you come in.”
Minutes later, you found yourself situated on his couch, a mug of tea warming your shaking hands. Mike sat down next to you, now covered up with a black sweatshirt.
“Do… Do you remember the first custody battle? When they called you to testify and come to court for days.” He enunciated days like you didn’t remember the grueling weeks you two fought through together. Despite that, you nodded slowly.
“You had to take a gap year. You were so close to getting your teaching degree. It put you behind.”
“I remember.”
“Well… Um.” He stuttered through his words, almost like it was painful to recount the past. “That week I left... It happened again. Jane tried to get custody. I just.. Couldn't put you through that again. You were on track to getting your dream job, for god's sake. So, I left.”
Your entire body froze as the world around you stopped spinning. Dizziness clouded your head, and your vision became blurry. It didn’t make sense—nothing he said made any sense to you. For two years, you had believed what he told you. You believed that heartless text he sent. You accepted every word.
“I… I don’t understand.”
“It wasn’t fair to drag you into my bullshit. I wanted to protect you and protect Abby. I thought the best way was to get you away from me. I was like a black hole. I sucked the life out of you.”
“Mike- That’s not true!”
“It is, though! I mean look at you! You have everything. You have your dream career, your dream apartment. Your life became better when I left.”
“Because I had to! That year, I lost everything! I lost my whole world, Mike! I loved you! Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve helped! I would’ve done anything for you!”
“That’s exactly why I left!” You flinched back, your eyebrows furrowed together. “I just couldn’t watch you interrupt your life for me. Interrupt your dreams. I couldn’t even protect my own sister. How could I sit there and ruin your life, too?”
You wanted to push him, yell at him, but you could tell he was in pain. You could tell guilt was eating him alive, you could tell he was aching. You didn’t want him to feel worse for his actions. But you needed him to know how you felt. You needed him to know how the hole in your heart he left almost consumed you.
“Mike… I spent almost 3 years hating you. Hating myself. I hated myself because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. You should’ve told me.”
“Good enough? You were too good for me! Hell, you still are. I treated you like shit. I ruined your life! And you still care for me. You still helped me in my lowest moments. You’re beautiful and sweet, and god, you’re just.. An angel. I never deserved you.” He could barely look you in the eyes.
Before your brain could process, and beg you to stop, your hand reached up to cup his jaw. Your thumb drew circles on his skin. His eyes flicked up to yours and his eyebrows shot up his forehead.
“That never stopped me from loving you.” His eyes shone in the apartment lights, illuminating the flicks of gold. As much as you hated him, you couldn’t tear your eyes away. You wanted to stare at him for hours. You wanted to study each crease and wrinkle of his face. You wanted so desperately to count each of his freckles. “Was there really no one else?”
“God, no. There was only ever you.”
You sighed, the weight of the past slowly lifting off of you. You couldn’t fully trust him, and you knew you could never go back to before. But your heart still screamed for him. It still longed for him. “I wish you didn’t lie to me.”
“Me too.”
Your thumb continued to stroke his soft skin. It was dangerous to be so close. You and Mike knew it. But, it felt right. It felt natural. It felt like two lost puzzle pieces were finally fitting together.
A text notification pinged throughout the room, echoing in the silence. You quickly pulled away and cleared your throat. Mike's eye twitched as he grabbed his phone off the counter. The color in his face drained quickly.
“Shit- It’s Jane.”
You sighed and looked away from him. “Okay. I should… Go, anyway.”
“Hold on- I’ll walk you out.” He stood up, speed walking to his front door. Before you stepped out, you quickly turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck. You pressed your chest against him, breathing in his cologne.
He hesitated slightly, worried you would turn to dust if he dared to touch you. After a heartbeat, he gave in. You stood in his doorway, his face tucked into your neck, yours pressed against his chest. His heart beat against his ribs, matching the flutter of yours.
Footsteps echoing against the walls of the apartment hall caused you to tear away from Mike's embrace.
Clapton stood in the hall, a shopping bag in his hand.
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The room was filled with awkward silence, unspoken apologies, and a tension you couldn’t cut with a chainsaw. Clapton sat on your couch, paralleling your earlier conversation with Mike. He sat there, his leg bouncing up and down quickly.
You opened your mouth to speak, but Clapton quickly cut you off. “I know.”
Bewildered, your eyebrows raised and wrinkles appeared on your forehead. “You- What? Know what?” “That you,” He swallowed. “Used me. I ran into Mike at 7-Eleven yesterday. He told me he moved in next door.”
Your eyes were wide, and guilt began gnawing at your stomach. “Clapton- I- I’m so sorry…”
His eyes were soft, but his lips were downturned. “I get it. I’ve- had my moments like that. Trying to get back at an ex…”
You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, biting down on the plush skin. “You've sent glitter bombs over to someone's house and fucked someone so loud you dented your wall?” Clapton’s eyes widened and he chuckled.
“Well- I- That’s original.” Now it was your turn to laugh, though the sound felt hollow and insincere. He was right. You acted like a middle-schooler. For god's sake, you were a teacher. You were supposed to be the responsible one, the one guiding the next generation to success and maturity. But you were instead getting fucked at 3 am and sending prank packages to get back at an ex. The moment you had that revelation, a wave of nausea washed over you, twisting your stomach into knots. You were an awful, sad excuse of a fucking human.
Clapton's large hand suddenly resting on your shoulder grounded you, just slightly. “Hey, it’s okay.”
You looked up at him, your heart racing and your palms trembling ever so slightly. “You’re not mad?”
Clapton laughs, almost bitterly. “I mean- I was. But I’m just- disappointed mostly. I know how much you love- loved Mike, but did it have to be me?”
You clenched your jaw together and looked away, eyes focused on the world outside. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. As you shifted your focus back to him, you were drawn into the depths of his warm, brown eyes. You searched for an ounce of understanding.
“It’s… I get it.” Despite the disappointment and betrayal you saw deep in his irises, he still smiled. Clapton was always like that. He had always hidden how he truly felt behind sickly sweet words. “I still want to be friends.” Even with his lie about understanding what you did, you could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice; he was sincere about being your friend. You felt relieved that he valued your friendship as much as you did his.
“I’d like that.”
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You were completely drained, every ounce of energy drained from your body. Having two heart-to-hearts with the most important people in your life weighed on you immensely. For now, all you wanted to do was sleep. You wanted desperately for your life to go back to normal, before Mike lied to you, before you almost wrecked your relationship with Clapton. Back when times were simple.
Despite the turmoil in your heart, a part of you was still glad. There was still hope with Mike. But, did you want there to be? The haunting doubts nagged at you: What if he lied to you again? What if he shuts down, reinforcing those walls that had torn you apart? The uncertainty tightened its grip, leaving you torn between yearning and fear.
Could you still love him after what happened? Did he still love you?
Even with the countless questions racing through your head, exhaustion took hold, and your heavy eyelids finally surrendered. For the first time in weeks, a rare calm washed over you, finally granting you a peaceful sleep.