#tim wright angst

[ilovetimothysutton]

I get so emotional when I realize that after Jay AND Brian die Tim truly has no one and even tried to tell Alex that he didn't have to kill him , that the operator was controlling him, yet Alex would not listen to him AND Alex had the audacity to shift Brian's death on Tim, blaming him DEFINITELY knowing about Tim's mental issues most likely knowing that deep down he already blames himself for Brian's and most likely Jay's death's

[deadgirlsdreams]

☼︎ Sleepless Nights ☼︎

⊹ฺ Characters: Tim Wright (Marble Hornets)

⊹ฺ Contains: Light angst; Comfort!; Loud hints at the verge of a panic attack; Tim being a softie; GN! Reader; No use of (Y/N); SFW; 1,482 words

⊹ฺ Note: This is very self indulgent. I just moved within the last few days and my PTSD has been leaving me unable to sleep, so here we are. <3

—

You never thought that your life would get to this point. Sleep might have never been something that came easily or naturally to you, but you never thought that there would be a reason for it. Something like fear keeping you awake was far from ever being on your radar, yet here you were.

The quiet of the motel room was heavy, the darkness that you had to sit in to keep you safe creeping in on you with every passing second. The bit of moonlight that crept across the room's carpet did nothing to ease the grip fear seemed to have over you. You didn't know who or what was lurking out there, if they would once again actually lay their hands or whatever they had instead on you. Or worse, what if you did know who was at fault? Jay had been slowly becoming irritable and out of sorts the longer you were all on the run, and while you knew it wasn't his fault, Tim wasn't always… himself. You and Jay had both been on the receiving end of what the masked man was capable of.

You nearly felt stuck in place underneath the motel comforter, suffocating from the heat of it, despite the blanket weighing nothing at all.

Tim shifts slightly in his sleep beside you, and you instinctively freeze. You didn't want to wake him up. You worried that rolling over onto one of your sides would wake him up, and you knew sitting up would probably yield the same result, but it didn't stop you. As the seconds passed, the heat made your anxiety more palpable until it turned into outright panic. Before you knew it, you were carefully but quickly sitting up and pushing the cheap sheets off your body, feeling your lungs expand faster and faster behind your ribcage.

Everything in your body felt wrong, like it wasn't yours somehow, even though you had never been anyone else. Your skin tingled as though all of your limbs were asleep, mouth and throat inexplicably dry. You pull your knees into your chest, arms closing around them, and dull nails digging into your legs. You could pull yourself together - you had to. You weren't the only person going through something; you didn't need to drag the boys into your bullshit.

The bed shifts, and you hold your breath as though that would somehow make you disappear.

You're fine, you're fine. The words didn't help. It's just Tim. You never thought there would be a day when that thought wouldn't solve all of your problems.

A hand moves slowly against the small of your back, the warmth of it making your back straighten as though that would get it away from you. Your entire body is tense, and it almost hurts.

"Hey," Tim's voice is rough with sleep, but it's his. The sound still doesn't change your posture or the noise in your head. "You okay?" You can feel his hand on your back stutter in its movements, like Tim doesn't know if he should take it away or if you need it to keep you grounded.

You can't answer or even look at him, and now guilt is slowly mixing in with your panic. You hate that you can't move or acknowledge him, you hate that you can't even bring yourself to relax and lean into him. You want to look at Tim and tell him you're okay, tell him the truth, tell him anything, but the dryness in your throat keeps you silent.

Tim lets out a quiet groan that you would tease him for if you weren't so stuck. You barely register the mattress moving underneath you or the springs threatening to squeak before you feel one of Tim's big hands on top of your head, fingers affectionately leaving a soft scratch against your scalp before tracing the slope of your face to make you look at him. You can't see for shit, though, only the vague outline of him, wishing you could see his big brown eyes. You wouldn't be able to maintain your gaze for more than a second, but you felt as though it could be enough. You love Tim's eyes.

"Look at me, love." You already were, and he knows it. Tim also knows you need the encouragement, the guidance. And like you, he can barely make you out in the nearly nonexistent light and knows that you can see even less of him. "You're okay." The way Tim says it is like a hushed, relieved sigh, like he also needs to hear it to believe it. Like he's hallucinating the feeling of your face under his hand. "You're safe with me."

Finally, after what feels like hours of being unable to move, you feel yourself nod. You're still stiff, but it's like your nervous system is aware of Tim's presence and knows that he's right. If anyone would keep you safe, it's Tim. You lean your face further into his palm. His thumb passes over your cheek. You can hear him breathing against the silence of the room, but it's louder, like he's trying to quietly convince you to copy his breathing. You do before you can fully register it's happening.

Your lips part to say something, but you don't have anything to say. Or maybe you do, but your brain is choosing to keep the words locked up. Instead, you slowly remove your nails from the skin of your thigh and go to softly hold his hand, taking it away from your face and pulling it close to you, resting your hands against your knees, looking at the way they're folded together. "I'm sorry." The words creak as they leave your mouth.

Tim lets out a little huff, squeezing your hand. "What are you apologizing for, darlin'? You didn't do anything wrong." You feel your face flush, maybe from embarrassment, maybe in guilt. You don't know. Your muscles tense again as you feel him move you until you're pressed into his side with his free arm. It's only when the two of you are settled that your body finally relaxes, weightless in a way that hasn't been true in hours. Tim's warmth seems to lull your senses into a more comfortable state. "You wanna talk about it?"

You love the way Tim cares for you. It's always soft and at your own pace in a way you think he'd somehow brush off or deny if you ever said anything about it. Tim was always soft for someone who was so rough around the edges. "I don't know." You sigh, but you know you have more to say. "Just… Scared, I guess." It feels like you're admitting to something shameful, like fear isn't a valid thing to feel in the context of what your life has become.

You're sure Tim's frowning, self deprecating thoughts worming their way into his head. You're quick to reassure him, just like he does for you. "It's not your fault, though. Never your fault." It's your turn to squeeze his hand. "I just can't stop thinking about everything." Your hushed words take on an incredulous tone, because you know if anyone other than Jay or Tim heard you, they'd think you were crazy or just being ridiculous. Maybe you were, maybe it was some kind of long, bizarre dream. You know better, though.

"I get that." It's one of Tim's go-to responses as he listens and tries to figure out the best way to respond. "All of this is," there's the tiniest pause in his sentence, "a lot." You slowly nod and move your head to rest against his shoulder. "I know that all of it is really strange and really terrifying." You can almost feel him swallow from where your forehead is resting near his neck.

"If I could find a way to keep you out of it, I would. No matter what it takes, I'm going to make sure you stay safe and stay alive." Tim's words are more than a promise. They're a vow that lands heavily in the silence of the room. "You're safe with me." He repeats, pulling you into him, tighter in a way that you think should be impossible, but you let it happen. You welcome the comfort.

"I love you." Sleep laces your words and your eyes feel heavy again, basking in the secure feeling that Tim always offers you. And even though your mouth doesn't move to finish your thought, you know Tim heard what is left unsaid. That you're so grateful that he's in your life, that you refuse to imagine or acknowledge a life without him.

You barely register his response as your body is finally pulled into sleep, but you know what it is. A grumbly little I love you, too that holds its own silent responses to everything you didn't say.

[cupidlikesspookythings]

Tim + [REDACTED]

(Tim angst bc he misses everyone he lost, Tim is a girl dad, Tim is a single dad, + oc lore )

Jamison's mother doesn't remember her. Doesn't even remember she and Tim were ever together.

They'd gotten married way too young. But really, when your first example of intimate affection comes from a college girlfriend, what would you think? When his own parents didn't show much affection towards him or one another, why wouldn't he latch onto the first proof he had that he was worth affection at all? Especially when his friends seemed happy for them. The two that he had, anyway.

Then they had Jamison. Still too young. But all babies do is eat, sleep, and use up diapers, how hard would it be? (Much more difficult than he thought, but Tim was used to sleep deprivation.)

But then... well, the plot started happening. He panicked. They separated. They lived apart. Sometimes Jamison went between their homes and sometimes she stayed with his parents. They were better at being her grandparents than they'd been being his parents.

Then one day, [REDACTED] never showed up. And Tim forgot he was expecting her. The plot was happening.

By the time the plot was over, she'd reappeared, and he remembered. But Jamison was four by then. She didn't remember [REDACTED], it had been too long. Jamison was lucky like that, because [REDACTED] didn't even recognize her.

"She looks exactly like you!" Liar, Tim thought. She only has my nose. Her face is yours and her eyes are your mother's. God knows where she got that hair.

He couldn't prove it; any documents had been lost when Alex set their fucking house on fire, along with every sticker his toddler had put on the walls and all his instruments and every photo and everything he still had of [REDACTED].

The insurance company couldn't know how valuable all of it actually was to him. The only thing they accurately appraised was Jamison's tricycle on the porch.

He couldn't force [REDACTED] to remember. It would hurt to try, and he thought it might kill him if he failed. So, he had a plan.

If she remembers, we stay. If she doesn't, we're moving. And never returning to the Deep South again.

They moved to Colorado that very week. It's not like they had many possessions to pack. With the fire and all.

And it's not like they had many people left. There was nothing left there. Not even his first friend. Not even his second. There was no Brian. No Jay. No house. No job. [REDACTED], with no memories, was just not enough. She wouldn't even notice.

Besides, he couldn't stand the thought of staying anywhere close to Rosswood Park for another minute if he didn't have to.

Maybe if they were lucky, that thing would stay in Rosswood. He'd never have to see it again.

(They were not that lucky)

Masterlist <3

thank you @xsugarxglass for proofreading <3

comments and reblogs appreciated <3333

also COMMISSIONS OPEN

[beeperis]

i've been ghosting // Tim Wright/Reader

cross-posted on my Ao3 summary ; tim can't sleep without you. warnings ; implications of suicide, death, fictional afterlife (I just kinda made stuff up as I went tbh), paranormal, angst with slight comfort notes ; the lore may be incorrect but by golly. I need to get this out of my system. also not edited, I need to sleep (currently 3am)

It's easy to assume death is the only way to finally escape the Operator. You figured that all your friends who were formerly tormented by It were no longer suffering, since they were six feet under or missing. It pained you to relive the evening of your death, but it all ended in a bathtub with your favorite song playing in an effort to build up enough courage.

Obviously, there were people you regretted leaving behind: your parents, who you had to distance yourself from in order to protect them. Your friends who laid awake at night questioning what they could've done differently, or why you stopped talking to them one day without warning.

Tim Wright, the one who had unintentionally gotten you roped into what eventually ended your life.

By some odd accord, his drab apartment is where you ended up. You remembered dying. You remembered your lungs filling with water before peacefully falling victim to unconsciousness. And now, you were sitting in the corner of the room watching him sleep.

It wasn't like if you were trying to be creepy. It was one of the only things you could do: watch Tim lay awake all night, get out of bed late in the afternoon, go to the bathroom and occasionally eat, then return and sleep for a long time.

It was depressing, to say the least.

At night, your presence would curl up beside him in bed as he would shiver and pull the blankets further up on his body. You frowned at the idea of him only thinking he was cold. When he got up to go to the restroom, you'd follow right behind and wait outside the door until he was done. You lit up whenever he'd go to the kitchen and actually eat.

That night started off no different than the previous. He got ready for bed as you sat patiently, admiring him like a lost puppy or a stalker. Tim yawned and crawled into bed, covering himself up to his hips. You curled up behind him like you usually did, except this time, he laid on his back and stared up at the ceiling.

"I miss you." Hearing Tim's voice shocked you, causing you to abandon your usual position at his side and sit upright. You stared down at him, his deep brown eyes staring into nothing. Part of you wondered who he was talking about; he'd lost so many.

Almost as though he was answering your question, he continued. "I just wish I could've told you I loved you. That day I went over to your house to check on you, finding you like that…" Tim trailed off, his voice choking up whilst his eyes welled with tears that glistened from the light of the TV.

After a moment's pause, his body slightly trembled with heavy, troubled sobs. The sight broke you. You were sure there wouldn't be any pain in the afterlife, but watching the one you treasured more than the stars crumple into a hellscape of his own mind was simply too much.

Tim curled into a ball, fully breaking and hugged his knees closer to his chest. You wanted to cry too, listening to him mumble, "it's my fault," through broken cries. On instinct, you placed a hand on his arm like how you'd done comforting him in the deaths of his friends. Tim froze.

He stopped crying, but still remained tensed up. He never even made a sound. Instead, his eyes fell to where you had touched his arm. Something felt so familiar about whatever brushed against his arm, but he disregarded it as being a bug. Still, it felt like he couldn't continue crying.

This didn't go unnoticed by you. Finally, you recognized a glimpse of nostalgia in those profound, fawn-colored eyes. Experimentally, you reached out to hold his hand in your translucent one.

Tim abruptly sat up in bed, breathing heavily as he stared at his hand. So cold, yet it held the warmth and fullness of a lover claimed by the inevitable fate of time. You could've sworn you heard him mutter your name.

Daringly, you brought up another cold hand to caress his face. "I'm here," you spoke softly to attempt to reassure him. You had no idea if he could hear you. More than anything, it was a plea for him to notice you. To look you in the eyes and smile with the same familiarity, wrap you up in the tightest hug you'd felt in ages, and promise to never leave your side.

Rather than doing any of the aforementioned, tears continued rolling down Tim's cheeks. "I miss you," he cried once more. You could handle it no longer, and uncertainly tried wrapping him in a hug. To your surprise, it seemed as though he felt it given the way his body relaxed, almost easing into your nonexistent touch.

After a few more heart-wrenching tears and whispers of, "I love you," and, "I miss you, baby," Tim finally began easing himself back down into his bed. You, as always, were curled up right behind him. Your eyes wandered over to his digital alarm clock, red letters lighting up certain portions of the room.

It was 2:22 am when he finally went to sleep, clutching a tear-soaked pillow he imagined was you.

[ilovetimothysutton]

When life doesn't feel like life and your just existing but its okay because you rely on a silly show about silly totally stable guys to give you comfort!

[ilovetimothysutton]

i just KNOW that the guilt for everyone he has lost eats at Tim even makes him physically sick on late nights daily

[deadgirlsdreams]

Do you think that you can make angst and fluff head canons for Tim Wright and/or Evan Myers???

☼︎ Angst and Fluff Headcanons ☼︎

⊹ฺ Requested by a lovely Anon! ♡

⊹ฺ Characters: Tim Wright (Marble Hornets); Evan Meyers (EverymanHYBRID)

⊹ฺ Contains: Fluff and angst (duh, haha); Allusions to mental illness; References to possession; Gender neutral Reader; No use of (Y/N); SFW

⊹ฺ Note: Sorry if this took forever! <3

—

✧ Tim Wright

⊹ฺ Before I get into it, I love him so much, I just want to kiss all over his face.

⊹ฺ Tim is the best person to nap/cuddle with. He is so warm and holds you so closely, it's impossible not to feel loved.

⊹ฺ He has sleepy parent friend energy - like, he will gladly smile and nod at what you do, but will also get so nervous depending on what it is. As ready to smile and nod as he is, he is also fully prepared to sigh at you and your plan.

⊹ฺ Periodically disappears (as Tim does) and no matter how long he's gone, he always feels so bad and you are the first person he reaches out to.

⊹ฺ In that same vein, Time goes back and forth between seeking you out and isolating himself when he's low; he wants to be around you (his safe space), but he also doesn't want to put you in harm's way.

⊹ฺ When he's travelling around with Jay, he tries to come and see you any time he can. It's all far and few between, but he tries his hardest.

⊹ฺ Speaking of things more "Marble Hornets related", Masky hesitates when he sees you. While Tim would love to think his alter wouldn't hurt you, that doesn't stop him from trying to take control back to keep you safe.

⊹ฺ Tim gets so nervous whenever you cough. His body tenses and he feels like his heart stops.

⊹ฺ No matter where he is, he always makes sure to call or text right at midnight on your birthday. He loves you so much, and therefore, has to be the first person to tell you.

⊹ฺ Guys, I love him so much, you don't understand, haha.

✧ Evan Meyers

⊹ฺ Poor thing, holy shit.

⊹ฺ Loves holding your hand and carrying you around. He can't explain it, but carrying you around is so fun for him.

⊹ฺ Teases you a lot; seeing your smile or hearing your laugh just make his day twenty times better.

⊹ฺ Loves watching horror movies with you or playing horror games - he's always hoping something scares you enough for you to grab onto him, haha.

⊹ฺ Speaking of, Evan is absolutely your biggest protector. If he wasn't already trigger happy about kicking the asses of demons and cosmic/eldritch horrors, you would definitely be what kicks that off.

⊹ฺ Makes Jeff and Vinnie to swear they'll look after you if anything happens to him.

⊹ฺ Thinks about keeping his distance from you a lot to keep you safe. It never works, though. He misses you and worries about you too much.

⊹ฺ He makes sure that you know where all of his knives are and how to use them. He wants you to be able to have a fighting chance if he's not around, whether that's physically, or because his body's being used against his will.

⊹ฺ Would love to one day have a family with you (if you also want one), but also knows how slim the chances of that happening are. He doesn't trust himself enough, either.

⊹ฺ Evan always makes sure that he falls asleep after you. He's gotta make sure you're safe and sound before he rests.