𝙈𝘾𝙔𝙏 𝙊𝙉𝙀𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙏𝙎

time to go home ;; pg

Time to Go Home

Implied George x Sapnap and Bbh is an emotional support character

college auuuuuuuuu

uh oh, angst time, this is another night of me finishing up at 2am, but I write best at this time lmao

even tho im tired as fuckin hell

this can kinda be categorized as hurt/comfort in a way

also yeah, sapnap is Snap and BBH is Bad

warnings:
- Sapnap has some inexplicit mental issues
- George is in love denial
- They're all struggling
- Sap and George cry
- They're just hurtin on the inside

2.4k words

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George's PoV

The only relief I could really find lately was at home and work, and I've slowly grown fond of the greasy little Waffle House that's been employing me for the past two years. Stupid, ridiculously late nights serving cheap breakfast to suspicious late night dwellers and hungry, smashed druggies at 2 in the morning, only to wake right back up the next morning and hustle to class.

Something about the repetitive, strict schedule was almost comforting in a way. School, work, sleep, school, work sleep. It never changed and it felt good to fall into a routine. Then there was Monday. Mondays held a special significance in my heart. And I hate it. Everybody says they hate them but I guess their reasons were a little different from mine.

No classes, no work, only the eerie silence of the cheap apartment complex, and if I were to even try to pay for something nicer, I'd be living poor and hungry. But it never really bothered me, especially when Snap or Bad would come spend the day with me. My parents were always on my ass about priorities. Priorities, priorities, priorities. Staying alive and healthy always came before one's aesthetic appeal.

At least the thrift shop in town was pretty cool and kept nice clothes on my back.

Every second Monday of the month, Bad, Snap, and I would all carpool to the thrift shop and scavenge out whatever decent clothes we could find. It always ranged from worn out, name brand shoes, to expensive sweatpants, to sweatshirts that were always a bit too big. But the prices were worth it.

Even though the clothes were worn in, they were always in good shape, and sometimes, only sometimes, when Mr. Marshall was in an extra good mood, he'd slash the prices down even further. Those days were always good days.

And today was one of those days.

After Snap parked the car, he was the only one who actually had a car, up to the door we went, knocking on the glass before pulling it open, greeted by the familiar jingling of the bells on the door.

"Howdy boys, how are you today?" Mr. Marshall called from the counter, sending a friendly wave in our direction.

"Pretty good, how are you, Mr. Marshall?" Bad replied, waving back before tucking his hands back into the pockets of his black jeans. He could almost be considered goth in the eyes of most people, with his dark pants and black combat boots and the long leather coat he almost always seemed to have on, accompanied by silver chains on his pockets and his messy black hair. Everyone knew it wasn't his natural color but nobody ever really said anything about it.

"Pretty good myself, kinda busy today, but we just got a lot of new stuff the other day if you wanna keep your eyes open for that."

We all smiled and nodded at him, splitting off in the direction of the men's sweatshirts. Snap was the first one to find something; a pale blue Thrasher hoodie that looked like it would completely swallow him. He held it up to his chest as Bad continued off in the direction of the sweatpants.