#I want to ask my dad if you think i am a failure what do you think of yourself i am exactly fucking like you for better or worse

[winloe]

okay, I know every stardew valley character could have a pretty decent argument for being autistic, but I want to say one character that I honestly don’t see being headcanon’d as autistic nearly as much and that’s alex!

before I start, I just want to say that you may disagree and that’s completely ok! you’re entitled to your own opinion and so am I ^^ I am also autistic myself, so this is mostly coming from my own experiences

one quote that sticks out to me is ‘oh wow...your shoes are a little dirty... but that's fine, too! different people have different tastes I guess’. alex is attentive to small changes, something that many autistic individuals are heightened in. he zeroes in on how your shoes look, something he may have noticed while avoiding eye contact and looking down to the floor rather than looking straight at you (an autistic trait is avoiding eye contact)

mentioning your appearance may be alex’s way to try and engage a conversation, but it comes off as blunt and even unintentionally rude when he says how your shoes are dirty, rather than how your hair looks nice or something similar. he seems to have realised his mistake and after a pause follows up with ‘but that's fine, too! different people have different tastes I guess’. to me, this seems like an attempt of smoothing over a mistake he may have only just realised could be seen as insulting, which highlights a struggle of social filters.

another quote which I think exemplifies alex’s difficulty understanding social cues is: ‘hey, you must be getting pretty strong working on that farm all day. maybe you'll reach my level some day. Something to look forward to, huh? why do you have that look on your face?’ (which alex will still say even if you’re 4 years into your farm and probably now jacked)

alex saying you ‘reaching his level some day’ as a goal may come across as egotistical and condescending, but it’s likely not intended that way (because of his later ‘why do you have that look on your face?’). I think this shows his unfiltered confidence (which isn’t always ego! It’s good to be confident!). he seems to just be proud of his physique and seems to be the only reason he’s been complimented before (including his appearance) so that’s what he wishes to show and talk about.

it may seem patronising, yet I think alex sees it as motivational or friendly banter. his ‘why do you have that look on your face?’ underlines his trouble at understanding nonverbal conversation. alex doesn’t immediately understand why his comment could provoke offence.

the player is, in other dialogue from characters, assumed to be reasonably quiet, which may be why alex finds difficulty when it comes to talking to them. 

when alex is insulted after asking if you think he’d ever become pro (and you say that he will fail and become a salesman) he snaps back with ‘that's insane. you're just jealous that I'm talented and popular and you're not. get away from me’. he reacts strongly to negative feedback and interprets it as jealousy, which could stem from how he reckons his dad was jealous of his youth and that’s why he called alex ‘worthless’ and the fear of failure (i.e. wasting his youth). for autistic people, self-worth can be closely tied to one or two abilities, and being questioned on their skill can make it very threatening.

alex also clings onto this idea of being ‘popular’ which may have been his school identity, being a jock and an all-star quarterback, which is a stereotypical popular archetype. this could suggest a difficulty in updating his self-image (and we know he has been outside of school long enough to get married and have kids, so he doesn’t have a reason to call himself ‘popular’ as there’s no context to be called popular anymore)

alex’s insistence on being ‘popular’ could be a form of masking. he shields his emotions from everyone but his dog dusty (and you once hearts are higher). he feels more confident in acting like this macho bravado than he would if he expressed his feelings which also ties into his toxic masculinity, which in turn goes to internalised homophobia. he feels as if he has to act ‘normally’, and being good at a sport and assumingly getting friends in school because he was good at that sport, would probably give him a tunnel vision that talking about gridball is the only chance of having another friend (why he only talks about gridball!)

and I know a lot of people would probably think that gridball is alex’s special subject if we’re going down the autism route, but I don’t actually think so. I could see alex having it as his special subject when he was younger, but as he grows up and as it becomes more of a goal and more of a job, he starts to forget the reason why he started playing gridball in the first place (because it’s a hobby, because his mum played catch with him). 

I can definitely see him struggling with autistic burnout, where he’s tried so hard for so long and still hasn’t seen success. this is why I can 100% understand why he’d like to work at the farm with the player, completely giving up his dream for a change in the current, a turn in decision. change can be frightening for autistic people, which could be why alex hadn't thought of doing anything other than going pro, but as you become his friend, he realises that he doesn’t have to stick to this one made-up persona for eternity and that he can be himself and subvert expectations.

no beta (me) we die like men... this may ramble and one day I'll reread this and cringe at the grammar... hi future me :P

[freebooter4ever]

The tech guys are hanging out in my office again and chatting about $10,000 week long vacations like this is normal.

[acid-ixx]

I have a question, well 2 questions to be exact that’s been rattling around in my head since I started reading platonic yandere batfam fics, why would reader stay in Gotham? I’d be sneakily stealing as much money as I could without getting caught as soon as I reach a “fuck these guys” mentality. Like, asking to have some money for groceries or something and just pocketing it so that I could get a bus ticket and leave the city. Would you do it if you were reader? It just makes sense to me “this place sucks, these people suck, I’ve gotten enough to leave”, this is with me assuming that reader has the means of course, if the reader doesn’t then okay, yeah that makes sense

And my second question, do you ever feel resentful towards Alfred when you read batfam photonic yandere content? I do sometimes, especially when the reader is neglected. I know this might sound odd but when I read these fics I recognize that Alfred could do more, out of everyone in the manner, I think Alfred’s word carries the most weight, especially with Bruce due to him raising Bruce. I also notice in some batfam fics that the reader doesn’t get mad at him due to him giving them attention, but idk it feels kinda like a slap to the face, knowing that I don’t have the power but he does and yet not exercising it until I’ve burned every last tie to that family.

I know my thoughts are a more “well you’re on the outside looking in” type takes, but idk, it hurts my heart knowing that if reader stays in that city, it will be far more easier for the batfam to find them, where if they were outside the city, they’d have a fighting chance to make a new life for themselves

On a side note, I think we are underutilizing the angst potential of reader legally changing their name and the batfam not knowing until months or even years later when reader leaves. Like Bruce and the fam would just have to sit and realize that reader hates/dislikes/doesn’t care about them enough to legally change their name from Wayne to whatever reader chooses. Jason was Batman’s greatest failure, but Reader would be Bruce’s greatest failure, and what a delightful public failure it would be if the tabloids were to somehow find out that one of Bruce Wayne’s biological children changed their legal name

I’m loving your batfam content btw, like it makes me want to create one of those “screw therapy, I need to fist fight my dad” tiktoks and tag Bruce Wayne, that’s what I can phenomenal writing!! And sorry for making this so long! Hope you have a great existence!

slight spoilers for future chapters.

this is one of my favorite asks... anon, you are so brilliant because your two questions tie into the reader's character so well and the flaws that they (you) conjured from years of neglect, so i hope my answers would suffice (i am answering based on the perspective of the reader from my series: again & again with a bit of my own perspective). tysm for sending this in, i actually really enjoy long asks and appreciate it when people take the time to send me these things!

why would the reader stay in gotham?

chapter one wasn't all the detailed about why they stayed in gotham. firstly, their self-worth had them reason that in no way, shape, or form would their family that basically estranged them would come running to them, especially not when the only time the reader could even stumble across them is by some miracle of coincidence. this also ties into their lack of knowledge about their family. sure, they know that babs is the oracle but do they know just how much access she has across gotham? not really. they know tim, like bruce, has a tendency to collect information about other people, but they don't know that they have contingency plans to be creeped out enough to get away from gotham and from their reach.

"it's not like tim or bruce or barbara considered you important enough to be stalked. hah, as if!"

and the third point is, despite bruce being a billionaire of some sort, it was stated that the reader was too well-behaved and quiet. how does this make sense? as you've stated, they wouldn't simply have the means to get out. seeing as they were sheltered by alfred and never really explored the concept of traveling far away, they never asked for money; the only advantage of being a wayne is having quite a lot of things served on a silver platter.

they have this sort of toxic bond for staying with the people who have hurt them and it materialized to them physically staying despite knowing it would only cause more pain than anything else, and they don't know that. plus, they'd rather not have the wayne name associated with them and getting money from cheques or credit cards would be too risky for the reader's safety.

they've only realized just how shitty their family is after more than 10-13 years of staying in the manor, and saving up to move to an entirely different place would be difficult, alongside college and the jobs they have to take. so the next best thing they could do is rely on any means of advantage they could get whilst also moving on to the path of self-discovery and recovery.

but that doesn't mean they're staying in gotham forever, definitely not. the moment the reader realizes that dick gained some sort of interest towards them, they're booking it out of gotham. preferably to metropolis or central city or even somewhere far, far away— they're naive, but not stupid. sudden interest towards them means danger rather than anything else. and they're aware that alfred is capable enough to pull strings, so that's why spoiler alert: they have a secret stash of money hidden somewhere and like any children of bruce, they inherited the capability to be smart enough to already back up their contacts and everything on their phone, buy a burner phone and even change their entire identity in one quick go right after they move into an entirely different city or country.

gotham is merely their practice course.

do you ever feel resentment towards alfred?

quite frankly, yes. the reader in the fic feels resentment towards everyone for a reason actually, but alfred's part was stated vaguely as to not spoil a future chapter that focuses on his perspective. they know that he has the more power inside the manor more than bruce has. everyone, and i mean everyone respects alfred, and it doesn't take a genius to know that if you mess with him, you're messing with an entire family of crime fighters.

it's not obvious, but the reader's narrative in chapter one is them trying so hard to delude themself into thinking things can be better until it's too late. so in a sense, there's false narrative coming into play.

"alfred would be too busy sometimes to attend your school ceremonies because he had to assist bruce with missions. of course, you understood his priorities. after all, he tried his hardest to make you feel less lonely inside the mansion, it wasn't enough but he was there at least."

at some point in time, alfred had also neglected the reader emotionally with the same reasoning as the others; he was busy with their father. and this all could've been avoided if alfred had tried to confront the entire family about it. i'm not delving deeper into this to really avoid spoilers other than pointing out some details in the first chapter.

just know that alfred relishes in your newfound favoritism towards him, and that he may or may not have pulled some strings himself from helping you become closer to the family.

the part about reading changing their name from (name) wayne to (name) (last name) is what made me so drawn to this ask. you have pretty much predicted one of the chapters that explored (name) wayne to the public eye. they're not so much of an internet celebrity because of their rare appearances in public, but that's what causes immense curiosity about their identity to uprise in gotham, and their fame was one of the means to get to you.

there was one news article published that was the reason that made bruce distant towards you.

but let's focus on what yan! bruce would've felt once he turns a full 360.

because the first thing he would do once he has you in his grasp is to change your last name back to his. you are not the child of a (last name), you are a wayne first and foremost, bruce's third child and his greatest mistake, quite literally. you were a product of a one-night-stand, and because he was drowning in despair from jason's death, he had failed to notice you. all his years of neglect, and he doesn't even know a single thing about you, simply because he refused to acknowledge your presence.

and you rightfully hated him, he should've accepted that. but your diary entries and the way you innocently thought of him destroyed any sliver of hope for a peaceful reconciliation. he hates how you were experiencing the same type of despair as him when it comes to battling your own monsters— you truly are a wayne at heart. he couldn't afford to let you get away any further. just like dick, he needs to fix it now or further sever the already broken ties you have with him.

it's not batman now, but rather bruce. bruce wayne had failed to save another one of his children, not as a vigilante, but as a father.

knowing bruce, he's quick to take into action and search for you.

holy shit, this is a really long post but i hope it does answer the questions ! im so grateful that you like my writing enough to write a really long ask, and i hope to see your messages more once the new chapters are published <3

[kenobers]

anyway, here’s a preview of the next jason + sionis!reader fic | 18+

tw; reader’s an asshole maybe? a girl failure, perhaps?

"I said, 'are you sober'. You look sober. Are you?"

Jason Todd blinks, like he still doesn't quite understand the question. He straightens his posture, jostling the untouched pint of something between his middle finger and thumb.

"I-yeah, I am. Are you?"

You cross your arms, roll your eyes again and ignore the question. Obviously, you're sober.

"Do you know who I am?"

He looks you over thoughtfully. His gaze conveniently lingers on the pop of your hip and the cleavage peeking out of your ruby neckline. Exactly where you want it. You snicker; so maybe he's a little slow, but at least he doesn't seem to be blind.

"You're Sionis' kid, aren't you? It's been a hot minute," Jason leans forward a little, magically more invested in the conversation. The ginger man standing next to him pauses his attempts to woo a brunette to raise an eyebrow at you.

"My dad hates you."

He scoffs, taking a half hearted sip of his beer.

"And bears shit in the woods, what else is new?"

You don't remember him having that stupid white streak in his too-well-tousled hair. It was sexy. You hated it.

"Fuck me."

IPA dribbles down his idiotically strong chin. His mouth goes a little slack as he blinks once again, harder and longer this time.

"What?"

Ugh, again with the repetition.

"Fuck me. Have sex with me," you reiterate as nonchalantly as if you're asking him to move over.

The redhead next to him starts cackling. Jason glowers at him, shoving the drink into his hand with one arm while pulling you closer with the other. It only takes him a gentle tug to pull your chest to broad chest. He leans down so his lips brush against your ear.

"Hey, you sure you're sober?"

The warmth of his breath in contrast with his mouth, still cool from his glass, sends a shiver down your spine.

"I'm dead sober."

"Okay, you see how I might doubt that given you just walked up to me and asked me to have sex with you."

You push him away and it's like pushing into a brick wall. A very muscular brick wall. "Look, Wayne-"

"Todd."

"Whatever. Even if I wanted to drink, I couldn't because my father drained my entire bank account."

Jason tilts his head, causing a lock of white hair to fall across his crooked nose. 

"And why'd he do that?"

You hum amiably, curling your pretty maroon nails around his thick forearm. 

"I'll tell you if you fuck me," you promise, batting your eyelashes as you place your other hand over his heart. Much to your frustration, his heartbeat is slow and steady. His sharp face has lost its earlier shock. He looks at ease, pleasantly entertained, with a slight smirk and a cocked slitted eyebrow. 

"I think that's called extortion, baby girl."

"It's only extortion if I'm threatening you," you snap back. You should know, your father's an expert in it. You take a small breath, smoothing out your tone again, "I'm just keeping my business to myself. So, I'd call this more of a quid pro quo."

"It's a quid pro quo if I'm getting something substantial out of it," he says this but at the same time, two large hands are sliding over your hips with a featherlight touch. His nails briefly press into your skin. 

Something in your belly tightens. Maybe he’s a more worthy opponent than you’d initially assumed. 

You tip your head up as you stand on your tiptoes and sneak your much smaller hands under his jacket, brushing up his warm sides. He sucks in a sharp breath. 

"If you really had no desire to fuck me, this conversation would've ended by now,” your voice is dripping in something venomously sweet. “And I'm not going to claim I have any idea of what's happening in your own business, but if I had to take a wild guess as to who in this room has the most to gain from fucking Roman Sionis' daughter, you'd be at the top of the list. Even if it's just for the bragging rights."

"You're worth more than just bragging rights, princess,” he says, rolling a fold of your dress between his fingers with a condescending shake of his head. You wonder if he can feel the heat radiating from underneath. 

"Prove it."

"...and you're sure you're sober?"

"Wanna test my breath?"

He snorts at your bad line, but his index and thumb are already caging your chin between them. He considers you for one more moment, then kisses you.

You can taste the single sip of beer, but it’s not as strong as the fading taste of a cigarette. His lips move against yours with intent, as if seeking out a falter in your sobriety. Their search comes up empty, leaving behind nothing but a thin string of spit and the overwhelming desire for more of him.

"What's your plan then? Risk it in a bathroom stall?"

You loath how utterly girlish the grin on your lips is.

"Nah, I know a spot upstairs."

[poipoipoi-2016]

Apropos of nothing

If you are the techiest person in the house (and for many of you, this is not techy at all), today is a good day to build a pihole thanks to Google's new TLDs.

For the record, this straight up stopped Dad from getting computer viruses when coupled with the Ublock browser extension, so I will volunteer my time to get you set up. We will find an evening and do a Zoom call. I am serious.

Prerequisities:

Before you start, this will be way way easier if your router has a magic way to:

Set static IP addresses

Set a custom DNS server

If you can't do this, I'm not saying you're stuck, but there's some non-obvious failure modes and maybe it's time to buy a better router.

Parts:

Raspberry Pi 4B. 2GB if you just want to set and forget, 8GB if you want to do more things on this than just your pihole (Coughs in a MarioKart box) -> https://www.raspberrypi.com/products/raspberry-pi-4-model-b/

Spare USB-C charger if you don't have one already. I'm a fan of https://www.amazon.com/Argon-USB-C-Power-Supply-Switch/dp/B0919CQKQ8/ myself

A microSD card at least UHS class 3 or better. 32 is fine for just a pihole, I have a 512 in some of mine that I use for more stuff. https://www.tomshardware.com/best-picks/raspberry-pi-microsd-cards

Some method of flashing the card if you don't have one (Some come with SD to micro-SD adapters, if not a USB to SD/micro-SD adapter is about $10 off Amazon)

If you really feel like going nuts, go buy yourself an Argon case and then very very carefully never ever install the software for the fan that does nothing. The value is entirely in having a big giant brick that is self-cooling. If you want to play MarioKart, I would consider this a requirement. https://www.amazon.com/Argon-Raspberry-Aluminum-Heatsink-Supports/dp/B07WP8WC3V

Setup:

Do yourself a favor and ignore all the signs telling you to go get Raspbian and instead go grab an ISO of Ubuntu 64-bit using RPi Imager. Because Raspbian cannot be upgraded across version WHY U DO THIS

Download Rpi Imager, plug the microSD card into your computer,

Other General Purpose OS -> Ubuntu -> Ubuntu 22.04 LTS

So now you have an operating system on an SD card.

Assemble the case if you bought one, plug in the SD card, power supply, ethernet cable if you have one or mouse and (mini) HDMI cable if you don't. If you bought that Argon case, you can just plug a keyboard (server OS means no mouse gang; In this house, we use the Command Line) and HDMI cable into the Pi. Turn it on.

Gaining access

The end state of this is that your pi is:

Connected to the internet by cable or wifi

You can SSH to it (Also not scary)

If you plugged in an ethernet cable, once it's done booting (1-2 minutes?), you should be able to ssh to "ubuntu@<the IP of the system>". Look it up in your router. It may make sense to give the static IP NOW to keep it stable.

If you've never used SSH before, I think the standard is Putty on Window or you can just open a terminal in Mac. (And if you know enough Linux to have a Linux computer, why are you reading this?)

If you didn't plug it in, and need to setup the wifi, there's magic incantations to attach it to the wifi and to be quite blunt, I forget what they are.

Your username is ubuntu, your password is ubuntu and then it will ask you to make a new password. If you know the meaning of the phrase "keypair-based access", it may make sense to run `ssh-copy-id` at this point in time.

Router settings (part 1)

Give your new Pi a static IP address, and reboot your pi (as simple as typing in `sudo reboot`).

Open a new SSH session to the pihole on the new address.

Installing pihole

Open up an SSH session and

curl -sSL https://install.pi-hole.net | bash

This is interactive. Answer the questions

When it's done, on your other computer, navigate to <the ip>/admin

Login with the password you just set. Router settings part 2

Give your new Pi a static IP address then point your router at that address

Set the DNS servers to the static IP

Then ensure you're blocking something. Anything.

Then do what you want to do. You'll probably need to whitelist some sites, blacklist some more, but the main thing is going to be "Adding more list of bad sites". Reddit has some lists.

And... enjoy.

/But seriously, there's some stuff to do for maintenance and things. I wasn't joking about the pair setup.

[ginnyw-potter-archive]

Because that would be incredibly lame

Summary: Harry considers what kind of house he would like to live in, and asks for Ginny's opinion.

Read below or on AO3

“What kind of house do you like, Ginny?”

It was several weeks before they both finished their last year at Hogwarts when he asked this. She put down her quill beside her Potions homework and turned around. She sat up on her knees by the couch, where Harry rested on his back. One hand tucked behind his head, the other played absent-mindedly with his Snitch.

She leaned a bit closer and rested her hands on the edge of the couch. “Is this your way to ask me to move in with you? Because that would be incredibly lame.”

He offered her an incredulous look. “I am not that much of a twat...usually.”

She grinned at him. “So you do not want to move in with me?” She tilted her head innocently, knowing she had set him up for failure either way.

He turned red. “Ginny.”  

With his attention elsewhere, his hand did not chase after the Snitch and it softly soared away through the common room. He leaned on his elbow, turning towards her. She kept eye contact.

“I need to find a house, for myself. I can’t stay in the Burrow forever, and I do not want to live in Grimmauld Place. And if I would get a house, you’d be there frequently, wouldn’t you?”

Her gaze softened at his words. “Yes. I would hope so.”

“And so, I thought it must be something you like too. Your dad said I could probably afford a house.”

She held back her snort. “My dad? Perhaps he was hinting at something.”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “I am sure your dad did not suggest we would live in sin.” His eyes twinkled and the corners of his mouth turned up in a grin.

“He is not an idiot, you know, about what we get up to.” Her fingers walk over his chest up to his collarbones. “However, maybe he was suggesting something with more commitment.”

He laughed and let himself drop back on the couch. He looked up towards the ceiling. “If you want to marry me, you will just have to propose.”

She tried to playfully swat at him, but he caught her hand and entwined their fingers, turning it towards him. “Though that finger would look lovely with a ring on it.”

She took her hand back and joined him on the couch. He made place for her so she could lie beside him. His arm wrapped around her shoulder, and she found comfort in the familiarity of it.

“I like cosy houses. Something that is clearly lived in and enjoyed,” she said.

He hummed. “Something like the Burrow, but slightly less crooked?”

“Yes.”

“And a big garden for Quidditch practice.”

She nodded. “And perhaps we should think ahead, so we do not have to haphazardly add rooms on top.”

“Good point,” he said lightly.

She rested her head on his shoulder. “We will give my mum and dad a month or two to adjust that all her children are out of Hogwarts before I go anywhere.”

“They can start counting down until Victoire comes, 11 years to go.”

She chuckled lightly. “What is the Hogwarts castle without a Weasley in it?”

“It is not great,” Harry mused. “I think anything you would like to call ‘home’ should have a Weasley in it.” He caressed her cheek.

“Don’t say that too loudly or you’ll be stuck with Mr Lanky Blue Eyes over there.” She nodded in the direction of Ron. She put her leg over his. “Instead of me.”

His hand dropped to her waist and squeezed it closer. “I am sure Hermione has Ron’s life planned out for the next fifteen years, he simply doesn’t know it yet.” He threw her another lopsided grin.

She smiled at him. “I’m sure he knows. He simply lets her.”

“Right,” he said. “Am I putting up too much of a fight for your future plans?”

She chuckled. “Definitely.”

“Your future plans are... Holyhead Harpies?”

“Yes.” She still could not believe she was already signed with them. “And you are there.”

He blinked at her. “Nothing else?”

“I think the rest will be things we should decide together, so all those plans are vague.”

He breathed in deeply. “I do like the sound of that.” A silence fell. “Do you think we should get married before we move in together? Do people expect that?”

She sat up and leaned on her hand. “Is this your way to ask me to marry you? Because that would be incredibly lame.” Her face hovered over his. “Hm, Potter?”

His hand cupped her cheek. “All in due time, Weasley. It’s nice to know you want it that bad you only consider it ‘lame’. You’re not even peeved. That means I won’t have to worry too much about your reply when I do ask.”

She kissed him. “Would you ever doubt my reply?”

His brows knitted together, his thumb traced her bottom lip. Then he shook his head. “Maybe I do not.”

[theocddiaries]

Clark: I need to keep my eyes on Bruce. Lana: Uuuh, what's happening? Clark: He's about to drop the hammer on Dick's new boyfriend. He's twice his age, and it's disgusting. Lana [Huffs]: Reminds me of a certain manager at the Cheesecake Factory that you dated. Clark: Ah, yes… He had a Camaro… and power. Lana: Ugh! He was nasty. You just did it to get a rise out of your father. Clark: Yeah, well, look how well that worked out. It didn't bother dad at all, and then I was stuck with a guy who smelled like potato skins and said "supposably."

Lana: You gotta admit, your dad played that pretty brilliantly. You know, after a few weeks, you got bored with him, and then you dumped him. Clark: …I did. I dumped him up real nice. [Runs to where Bruce is]. Bruce, Bruce, don't. Bruce: Excuse me? Clark: Dick's just dating that guy to get back at you for being so hard on him for the college thing. I did the same thing to my dad. Bruce: First of all, I'm not your dad. And do you think I'm just gonna let this happen? Clark: Just trust me on this. Bruce: I want to, but you're just so wrong about so many things. Dick: Hey, guys? So Kenny and I were thinking about going to this restaurant. Clark: Oh, sure. I don't have a problem with that. Do you, Bruce? Bruce: …No. Clark: In fact, it has been such a pleasure getting to know Kenny, it's our treat. Dick: Are you kidding? Clark [Nudges him]. Bruce: No. Clark: Give them your credit card, B. Dick: Also, uh, this restaurant is pretty far away, so we might be out late. Clark: Well, sweetheart, you are only young once. Dick: Hm… Oh, might even make sense to just stay in a hotel. Clark: That's okay. Put it on the plastic! Dick: Great! See you tomorrow! Clark: Buh-bye. [Phone rings] Kenny: Ugh. It's my ex-wife-- Not the good one. [While getting out of the house]. What do you want?! Bruce [He puts on his scarf and jacket]: Nice game of chicken, Clark. He's gone! Clark: He is coming back. I am almost positive. Bruce: Almost?! Why do I listen to you? Why? You were wrong about the iPod being a failure. You were wrong about tomato being a vegetable. I don't even want to talk about your favorite "planet", Pluto! And unless she was lying to the good ladies of "The view," it's "De-mi" Moore, not "Dem-mi"! [Walks out of the house and slams the door]. Dick [Comes through the kitchen door]: You were going to let me go with him?! Clark: Oh, isn't that what you wanted, honey? Dick: What's the matter with you?! You've been acting so weird ever since I left college! Clark: For the record, you didn't leave college. You were asked to leave. Dick: Oh, which you guys never let me forget, especially dad. Clark: Honey, your father-- Dick: You don't have to tell me what he thinks, okay? I'm a huge disappointment to him. I see it on his face every day. He acts as if he doesn't even want me around-- [Bruces comes back in the house, his back turned to where Dick is] Bruce: Give me the car keys right now. Clark: Um, Bruce… [Tries to point at Dick]. Bruce: No, I'm going after him! This little chicken game may work for you dad, but it doesn't work for me. That's my little boy. I need him to know that no person on or off earth is good enough for him, let alone some slimy, middle-aged jean salesman! [Dick runs and hugs Bruce tightly]. Bruce: …What's this? Clark: Just enjoy it.

[avatar-anna]

Building a Home

part two to failure

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe

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"Can I get you anything?"

"No. No, I'm okay, thanks."

"Oh. Well, there's a, uh, there's a jacuzzi outside if you want to go in now. Or later, obviously. But it might be fun to—to relax or something."

"I think I just want to lie down for a bit."

"Right. Of course. I might go to the store, then. Buy a couple things for the week."

"Okay."

Harry didn't know what to say. He'd never been at a loss for words around Y/n. For so many years, they'd been best friends as well as parents and husband and wife. They told each other everything, and now they could barely have a conversation.

As a way to rekindle things, Harry's mother offered to watch the kids while he and Y/n went on a little trip. Harry was unsure at first, not wanting to be away from his kids after returning home, but he was also willing to do anything if it meant that they could break past speaking more than a few words to each other, so he settled for a cabin that was close enough to drive home in case of emergency.

Y/n had been civil to Harry since he came home. She smiled when he played with Simone and Collette and sat next to him at the dinner table, but once everyone was settled for bed, a wall went up around her, and while they still got in the same bed at the end of the night, the distance between them was palpable. Harry understood why, and he respected Y/n enough to grant her her space, but he missed her so much his chest ached. He just wanted to hold her hand, to see that smile directed at him.

The drive up to the cabin was painfully quiet, but he just kept reminding himself that Y/n came. That had to mean she wanted this to work.

He held onto that tiny scrap of hope as he perused the aisles of the general store, as he checked out, and as he returned to the cabin and made dinner for the two of them.

Y/n eventually came out of the bedroom and quietly began helping Harry with dinner, not a word leaving her lips. He desperately wanted to say something to try and break the ice, but nothing came to mind.

After dinner, Harry and Y/n got ready for bed in silence. They stood beside each other as they brushed their teeth, Harry glancing to his left every couple seconds, hoping this stalemate would be broken somehow. But as they got into bed once again without a single word shared, he wondered if they should've just stayed home.

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"I, uh, I spoke to the owner of the cabin this morning," Harry said.

Y/n looked over at him from where she was reading on the couch. "Oh? Why?"

Harry scratched the stubble on his cheeks. "I asked if we'd have to pay full price if we decided to leave early. He said yes, but that's fine."

Frowning, Y/n set her book down and said, "Why would we leave early?"

"Because we've been here for nearly three days and we've hardly spoken to each other, Y/n. We could easily do that at home."

"So that's it? You're just going to give up after a few days of the cold shoulder?"

"Y/n, I am willing to do anything to make things right, to prove to you that I want to be a part of this family, but you won't let me!" he said. "And I know that you're angry and you're hurt, and you have every right to be, I know that, but I can't begin to right my wrongs if you don't talk to me."

He walked to where she was sitting on the couch and rested his hands over hers. Y/n was crying, but she wouldn't look at him.

"You left us," she said. "When you were faced with the truth, you left. Instead of staying and being what we needed, what I needed, you left us! You—You left me.” Her voice broke on the last word, like despite all they went through, she never expected him to let her down like that. “And I—I have hated you for it ever since you left.”

Harry bowed his head. He knew deep down that Y/n resented him, but to hear it was an entirely different thing. "You told me to go."

"I wanted you to fight for this family! For me! But you took the easy way out, and now I don't know how to talk to you. I don't know how to exist around you!"

She stood up from the couch and walked toward the stairs that led to their bedroom. "So no, Harry, I'm not talking to you, because I'm scared I'll say anything that'll ruin things for good."

Harry let her go, sitting down on the floor with his back against the couch. His own tears fell freely now that she was gone. Any hope he had crumbled into dust.

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Alone in their room, Y/n let herself cry.

Harry was trying, he really was, but he just didn't get it. After touring for nearly an entire year, he just left again. She knew she told him they should take a break, but she'd hoped he would stay and try to mend things. If not for her sake, then for the four children they had together. But instead he just...gave up.

Anne came around a lot, and had become the go-between for Y/n and Harry. She was the one who set up video chats for Simone, Collette, and the twins, she told Harry about how things were back home, and she was the one Y/n confided in when she felt overwhelmed by anger and sadness.

And boy was Y/n angry. It was easier to be angry than to sit around and cry, which she had no time for as it was. Now she was having a hard time letting go of her anger. Harry was home now, and he was putting in every stitch of effort with the girls and Julian. He got the girls ready for school, he changed every diaper, he made dinner, he cleaned up around the house. He was exactly the man Y/n had been hoping for months ago. Why couldn't he have been that man before?

In the cabin's bedroom, Y/n rummaged through Harry's things for the sweater she knew he brought just for her. It had been one of her favorites to wear around the house, before he left and while he was gone, but she would never admit that to him. It was at the bottom of his bag, though when Y/n plucked it out, she saw something left there. A scrap of paper.

Without really thinking about it, Y/n took it.

It was a folded piece of paper, worn, like Harry took it everywhere. She hesitated for a moment, then unfolded it, curious to know what was written on the inside.

It was song lyrics, a song Y/n had never heard before. Her eyes scanned over it briefly, recognizing Harry's handwriting and all the little scribbles where he took a misstep while writing the song and arrangements for music were scribbled on the sides. She looked at everything but the lyrics themselves, scared to know what Harry had written while he was gone. But curiosity finally won out, and Y/n glanced at the words Harry had been carrying with him for months.

"I'm in my bed, and you're not here. And there's no one to blame but the drink in my wandering hand. Forget what I said, it's not what I meant. And I can't take it back I can't unpack the baggage you left."

Y/n mulled over each word carefully, trying to enter Harry's headspace as he wrote this song. She wondered how long they had been separated before he wrote this. Was it when he had just left or had weeks or months gone by? She wasn't sure, but by just the first few lines she could almost physically feel this pain.

She kept reading. Over and over again she read each word until she had them memorized, until they were carved into her heart. Of course Y/n knew that the separation wouldn't have been easy for Harry. Despite his schedule, she knew he adored each and every one of his kids; she knew he loved her. But to see with her own eyes how absolutely wrecked he was by his own failings hurt. This was never meant to be how their lives turned out. They were always supposed to lean on each other and survive as a family because they loved each other and wanted this life, but somewhere along the way, that got lost.

And Y/n could feel the regret of losing sight of what mattered most in the song. She could tell how much he blamed himself for everything that happened.

"And I get the feeling that you'll never need me again."

They hadn't spoken much since he came home. Not of how they felt while they were apart, nor of how they planned to move forward. But Anne had once mentioned that Harry felt as though Y/n and the family would be better off without him. Y/n was still so angry at him for leaving that she didn't think much of it. But now, sitting alone in a room with Harry in the same house but still as far away from her as he'd ever been, she understood. He was wrong, of course, Y/n would always need him, would always want him around, but she understood that one's biggest fears could cloud judgment.

Harry had messed up a lot, but he'd also been right downstairs. If Y/n was done, there was no use moving around each other awkwardly day after day. She owed it to herself and to Harry to make a decision, even if it did hurt them.

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Y/n found Harry sleeping on the couch, his legs hanging over one of the arms. He was still in his day clothes, clearly not wanting to enter the bedroom if she was there. Her heart sunk at the sight of tear tracks on his cheeks, knowing she was the one that caused them.

She wanted to make room for herself next to him, curl up into his chest and have a good night's sleep for the first time since he'd left months ago. She wanted to kiss him, run her hands through his hair, hold him close, but something inside of her held her back.

Their relationship was a mess that Y/n didn't know how to clean up. She didn't know where to start, didn't know if she could believe him when he said that things could be different. But she reminded herself that she came with him on this trip because she owed it to herself to try. Despite everything, Y/n loved him, would forgive him the second he got down on his knees and begged, which was why she'd been putting so much distance between him and herself.

But it had gone on long enough. They needed to talk this through. They needed to get everything out and see where they landed by the end of it.

Cautiously, Y/n went over to Harry and gently nudged his shoulder. He woke up in an instant, startled by her sudden appearance. "What is it? What's wrong?" he said, voice slightly slurred from sleeping.

"Nothing. I just...I just don't want you to think that I hate you," she said, unable to meet his gaze. She'd been avoiding holding eye contact for weeks, not strong enough to see everything he felt in them.

Harry sat up and offered her a spot on the couch, and Y/n took up a place on the opposite end. Outside of sleeping in the same bed, it was the closest they had been to each other in months outside of a hug when he first came home.

"I wouldn't blame you if you did," he said quietly.

She hated that he believed it, hated that she'd let him believe it. "I was furious, and I'm still a little angry, but I don't think I could ever truly hate you, Harry."

"I'm sorry," he said. Y/n could tell that he wanted to come closer, but he stayed exactly where he was, nervously fiddling with the rings on his fingers. She still couldn't meet his gaze, so she focused on his hands, finding it easier to look there while they had this conversation. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. If I could go back and change...everything I would. You were right to be angry with how I've handled my career on my own, and you have every right to be short with me. There's no excuse for how things played out, or how I dealt with you confronting me about it. I got scared and insecure and I let myself believe you deserved someone better than me, when all you needed was for me to be a partner. That's all you've ever asked of me, and you were right to say that I'd failed. And...And I'm sorry."

Would she have forgiven him all those months ago if Harry had said that at the time? Y/n wasn't sure. But the Harry sitting across from her seemed to truly understand where she was coming from, and he was owning up to his mistakes. If she didn't extend an olive branch now, there would be no coming back from that.

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For the first time in months, Y/n met Harry's gaze. Her eyes looked blank, though Harry knew it was only because she was heavily guarded. He apologized and would continue to apologize for the rest of their lives, but she had to let him back into it first. And he honestly wasn't sure if she would.

With a blink, Y/n surprised him by saying, "I found this."

She reached across the space between them on the couch to hand him a folded-up piece of paper. He didn't have to open it to know what it was.

Harry wrote the song at one of his lowest points during their separation. A month had gone by, and he still hadn't heard from Y/n. He FaceTimed with Simone, Collette, and the twins almost every day, but Y/n didn't send him so much as an email. After a month, Harry realized that this separation was truly indefinite, and that there was a real possibility things wouldn't be fixed by the end of it. For the first four weeks, Harry hoped that he could come home and work things out, but when a month had passed, reality kicked in.

He'd written the song at a time when he'd felt truly hopeless, when every mistake he'd ever made as a father and a husband gnawed at him. He was facing the reality that he might lose the family he loved more than words could describe, and the thought alone destroyed him.

Seeing the paper now brought back those memories, and now he had a hard time meeting Y/n's eyes. "I must've left it in my bag after I came home."

"I read it," Y/n said. "I hope you don't mind."

Harry figured as much, seeing as she was talking to him at all. The thought of her reading his song made his stomach twist, but at least she was talking to him. "No i—it's fine.”

"It's really good," she said, worrying the paper between her fingers. "I—I know the separation was hard on you, and I haven't made it any easier. I'm—"

"Please don't apologize," he said, reaching over to touch her hand. "None of this is your fault."

"But I—I never wanted you to feel this way. I never—Harry, how did we get here?"

Harry felt like his heart was breaking all over again. He in no way wanted Y/n to take responsibility for everything that went wrong between them. He never in his wildest dreams thought that they would've ended up like this. He loved Y/n with everything he had. He loved his family. All he wanted was to make things right, to be the father and husband they deserved and could be proud of.

"Come here."

For the first time in months, Y/n collapsed into Harry's arms. Breathing the biggest sigh of relief, he held her tight. He wasn't sure how many times they found themselves in this position, so often he'd taken it for granted. Y/n was crying, Harry was crying, but he'd never felt more at peace. He felt like he'd finally come home, even though he'd already been back for a couple weeks. Holding Y/n felt like coming home.

"I don't want to be away from you anymore, Harry. I hate it," she cried. "We're a team, H."

They'd always been a team. No matter what happened, it would be them against the world. Somewhere along the way, Harry seemed to lose sight of that.

"I know. I'm sorry. We can be a team again, I promise."

He didn't need Y/n to voice her wariness for him to know she didn't quite believe him. He knew he would have to win back her trust, but he was committed. Harry didn't care how long it took, his family was the only thing that mattered to him.

"No more music, no more touring. None of it means a fraction of what you and those four angels at home mean to me," he said, tilting her chin up so she could look at him. "I swear, Y/n, I won't step onstage again."

Y/n took Harry by surprise and kissed his cheek. "I just want there to be a balance, Harry. That's all I've ever wanted. I don't need you to give up your career, I just need reassurance that we're always going to come first."

"Done."

Harry knew it would take a lot more than just saying things to make Y/n believe them, but it was enough for now, enough to make it through these uncharted waters.

Y/n tipped her nose against Harry's, then again. His stomach swelled with anticipation as he nudged her back, exhaling some when she finally rested her lips on his.

It was barely a kiss, but to Harry, it was everything. He knew how much Y/n was going out on a limb by letting him in, by giving him a second chance, and he didn't take that lightly. She was the first girl he'd ever loved, and he'd be damned if she wasn't the last.

Y/n eventually fell asleep against his chest, her hands latched tightly onto his t-shirt as her deev breaths kept time with his. Harry stayed up, his hand running through her hair gently. Their legs were tangled together, and Y/n's cheek was squished against him in a way that made her lips puff out adorably. He could've spent the rest of the week just like this, not moving a single muscle, but he had a feeling they'd be going home early after all.

Nothing was near fixed. They had so much to figure out, Harry wasn't quite sure where to start. But he was holding the love of his life in his arms. Harry's life was starting to get back on track, and he felt a little kernel of hope blossom inside him as his eyes grew heavy. As he kissed the top of Y/n's head, he couldn't help but think that they might be alright.

[all-pacas]

a list of all the times foreman and chase actively shaded one another in s1-3, because i think it's very funny,

histories:

PATIENT: [Foreman] doesn't like me. I can tell. CHASE: That's okay. He doesn't like me, either.

sports medicine:

CHASE: House says you were lying. I believe him. FOREMAN: …What’s that? You got a little wet smudge at the end of your nose!

control:

CAMERON [to Chase]: He’s not gonna fire you. FOREMAN: I’d fire you. Bye bye. CHASE: If I screw up, the patient dies… I’ll never get another job. FOREMAN: So go stick your head between your legs and lick your wounds in Gstaad.

mob rules:

CAMERON: Chase has a big mouth. FOREMAN: Yeah. He's probably the one who ratted to Vogler. [of note: Chase did obviously rat to Vogler, but Cameron spends these same episodes defending him and sure he isn't the rat; Foreman immediately jumps to "fire Chase"]

heavy:

PATIENT: I’m thirsty. CAMERON: Just a little bit longer [with this procedure], and you’ll be done. FOREMAN: Like Dr. Chase.

[later, House asks who Foreman would fire:]

FOREMAN: Chase. HOUSE: What — because he screwed up an angio a month ago? FOREMAN: Anyone can make a mistake. HOUSE: Right, it’s the money. You resent it, but you’re going to tell me he doesn’t need the job. FOREMAN: He doesn’t appreciate the job. HOUSE: He was ready to go three rounds with Cameron for it. FOREMAN: He wants the job. He just doesn’t appreciate it. There’s nothing wrong with just wanting to hang out, but this is not the place to do it.

babies and bathwater:

FOREMAN: [under his breath] Here, pussy, pussy, pussy. CHASE: I didn’t do anything. FOREMAN: Exactly my point. CHASE: You wanted me to yell at him? What the hell would that have achieved? What, is he going to jump into his time machine and fix everything? FOREMAN: When a dog dumps on the floor, do you pat its head and call it a genius? No, you smack it in the nose with a newspaper! CHASE: Dogs can learn things, House can’t. FOREMAN: Coward. CHASE: Child.

acceptance:

FOREMAN: If someone asks you to describe me to them, what’s the first thing you’d tell them? CHASE: Insecure.

tb or not tb:

CAMERON: I wrote your people a check last month. PATIENT: Oh, well… write us another one. FOREMAN: Talk to Chase, he’s rich. CHASE: My dad, not me. [i think offering chase's money to a stranger counts as shade]

the mistake:

STACY: Why did Chase screw up? FOREMAN: Because he doesn't give a crap about patients. STACY: He always gets positive patient reviews. FOREMAN: Yeah. He smiles all 84 of his teeth, tells them his tonsil story. STACY: It's a nice story. FOREMAN: He still has his tonsils! As soon as he's out of the room, which is as soon as he can be out of the room, he starts in on the trash talk. Thinks not giving a crap makes him like House. Like it’s something to aspire to. Am I going to have to testify? STACY: I… won't be encouraging them to call you.

failure to communicate:

CHASE: Even if he fell, drug use is far more likely. I’m ordering a tox screen. FOREMAN: Chase, we're not done with the differential. CHASE: You're not my boss. FOREMAN: I'm House's boss, House is your boss. The math is pretty simple. CHASE: Are you signing my paychecks? Are you hiring or firing? FOREMAN: This is not about that. CHASE: The only thing you've been asked to do is supervise House in case he does something insane.

distractions:

FOREMAN: Plug it in. CHASE: You plug it in. FOREMAN: Fine, give me the cord. [under his breath:] Wuss.

who's your daddy?

[during a procedure] HOUSE: Chase, high right atrium, please. CHASE: Her heart’s fragile after that last attack. The chances of tachycardia – HOUSE: You have my permission to blame Foreman at any negligence trial. [chase does as he's told]

cane and able:

CHASE: How could I screw up a simple bleeding time test? FOREMAN: Maybe you were abducted; lost time. [later:] HOUSE: So you’re saying Chase did screw up. CHASE: Or Foreman screwed up. FOREMAN: Big hand points to minutes. Maybe you got them mixed up? [later:] CHASE: We’ve had three results that haven’t been consistent. One of them must be wrong. FOREMAN: Or two of them.

fools for love:

[house is trying to bet foreman on wilson's new girlfriend. foreman hasn't accepted the bet:]

HOUSE: We could spend all day arguing whether we bet or not. Give me the hundred bucks. CHASE: Come on Foreman, pay up. He won! Or we could just never finished the DDX.

[later:]

HOUSE: Aha! Brochure to a jazz festival in the Poconos this weekend. CHASE: Wilson likes jazz. Foreman, pay the man.

[later:] CHASE: If [the patients] can live here without killing each other, they must really be in love. It’s tiny. FOREMAN: Then how come it’s taking you so long to search it? CHASE: Box of condoms in his jacket. FOREMAN: I know you’re poor now, but buy your own.

[later:]

CHASE: Hey, Foreman, can you wear the beeper for a couple hours this weekend? [off his look:] What? FOREMAN: We just destroyed two peoples’ lives. CHASE: I’m not allowed to run errands any more? FOREMAN: I’d like to see some sign that it affects you, or that you recognize that it affects other people. CHASE: So are you going to wear the beeper or not?

finding judas:

CHASE: I wasn't kissing his ass. FOREMAN: It just looked that way from our angle. You on your knees, House bending over. CHASE: He predicted the pancreatitis. CAMERON: It's his dad's fault. CHASE: My dad was an ass. CAMERON: But you did everything he wanted you to and, in return, you got everything you wanted. CHASE: Yeah! It's that simple. CAMERON: His strategy worked. Dad got him a cushy job, paid for his cushy life. CHASE: Cut me out of his cushy will. [cameron looks surprised/apologetic here; foreman continues:] FOREMAN: I told you, just his nature. Poor guy's hardwired to kiss ass.

[later:]

CHASE: Tritter finally froze my accounts. FOREMAN: Really? CHASE: You surprised? Why wouldn't he? FOREMAN: I figured if he was singling you out, you must have done something different. CHASE: What? Like talking? FOREMAN: Yeah. And now that he's frozen your accounts, you probably will. You need the cash, right? CHASE: He doesn't freeze my accounts, I'm guilty. He does freeze my accounts, I'm guilty. [foreman shrugs]

top secret:

FOREMAN: House would do Wilson before you'd do Chase. CAMERON: No, you would do House and Wilson before I do Chase. Now can we get back to work? CHASE: She did me once! FOREMAN: [laughing] She was stoned!

act your age:

CHASE: For the record, Cameron's the one who broke it off. FOREMAN: Not interested. No masses in the hypothalamus. CHASE: I wanted more. She didn't share my feelings. FOREMAN: I feel like I'm in a similar position.

resignation:

CHASE: So, why are you leaving? Or is it just some sort of power play? FOREMAN: You can have my parking space. My locker. CHASE: Is it about House? FOREMAN: Let me get all sensitive and confide in you. CHASE: Why wouldn't you want to tell me? FOREMAN: I don't like you. Never have, never will. You want me to share some more?

the jerk:

FOREMAN: I'll do it. But I've got a job interview after work. Anything comes up later, you guys handle it. CAMERON: Need a peer recommendation? FOREMAN: Thanks. [he looks at chase, who sort of shrugs] CHASE: Cameron's should suffice.

[later:]

CAMERON: Foreman's interview in New York got screwed up. CHASE: I heard. CAMERON: Foreman thought it was House, House thought it was Cuddy. Cuddy thought it was Wilson, Wilson thought it was me. CHASE: And you think it was me? [chuckles] God… you think I… sabotaged Foreman? I don't even want him here. CAMERON: I know. CHASE: Then why would I do…? CAMERON: I think you sabotaged Foreman just to sabotage Foreman.

[yuri-is-online]

hi, thank you for answering! i really love the fyuuture kid au!! could i ask for cater!yutu? 👀 i wonder if yutu knows there is more to him, and if yuu remembered that too in the og timeline to tell their son

👀 you may. I have a separate fic I am supposed to be writing for him but I had thoughts...

notes: they/them used for Yuu, cw for discussions of mental health and suicide, but no one self harms and nothing is described. General fyuuture kid au info can be found here and the first post can be found here. More of it can be found under the series section of my masterlist.

Yuu's memories of Twisted Wonderland are less concrete thoughts and more feelings. They know how Cater made them feel, and bits and pieces of his personality but they lack memory of the context, so their memory tries to patch up the holes. In other words, they don't remember Cater's act was an act, and they explain him to Yutu as a creative, friendly person, who likely struggled with a form of depression.

"Your father would sometimes find himself feeling despondent, lacking energy, and motivation. There is a chance as you get older that you might feel that way sometimes too, but that's not because you are a failure or because you did something wrong. I won't hate you if you feel that way and I will never judge you for it. I will always be there for you."

It's a good call, Yutu does find himself having some periods of depression as he gets older from time to time, and the early conversation Yuu had with him allowed him to feel comfortable with discussing that with his parent. The idea that his father had similar struggles comforts him, doubly so if Yuu does as well. He thinks about his dad a lot actually, Yuu's lack of memory means Yutu's over active imagination tries to fill in the blanks.

There is a part of him that thinks his father might have lost his battle with depression and that Yuu's memory loss was due to grief. He respects his father a lot, and is determined to take care of his own and Yuu's physical and mental well being to honor him. Yutu likes to think that is what his dad would want.

He loves music, he finds playing guitar and singing to be very soothing, but he's not super interested in being in a band; he is much more interested in maybe jamming a bit and just talking with his friends. Pretty much exactly like his dad now that I think about it.

I like the thought of Cater! Yutu wanting to be a psychologist when he grows up... and knowing that Yuu isn't the wealthiest person starts working part time to save up for college. He's a very driven person, and deeply interested in what makes people tick.

Cater! Yutu is one of the Yutu's who is A) in a different dorm than his dad (Octavinelle, not Heartslabyul) and B) who sort of prefers your world to Twisted Wonderland. He warms up to Twisted Wonderland after traveling into the past and actually gets to see what it's like, but he really didn't like fighting monsters or seeing what had happened to his father, speaking of which-

He tried asking about what his father was like before he was transformed into a monster, but he didn't get a lot of clear answers. Crewel tells him that he was very outgoing and peppy, a good enough student who was really into an app called magicam that isn't around anymore due to the *gestures vaguely at the apocalypse* and Sam told him a neat story about his New Year's sale and how well his dad could work a crowd. "Good with people." That's something he hears a lot, but nothing to suggest he wasn't always happy. They do have some recordings the pop music club made they pass along to him that Yutu treasures and keeps close.

Yutu had to fight his dad's monster form multiple times to try and rescue people from the Queendom of Roses. It was painful to see a monster who is actively trying to kill him and people he has come to care about and then have him pointed out to him as his dad. There isn't any life left in Cater's eyes to recognize him, but Yutu still wants it to be there. He has so many questions and no one left to answer them.

When he travels back in time, Yutu doesn't interact with Cater immediately. His mind still associates him with blot and grueling fights, so he hangs back around Yuu and Adeuce. It was a bit difficult to get used to being around them, but it helped that Deuce is very polite and his focus on being an honor student is kind of cute. Ace though...

Ace is suspicious. He tries telling those suspicions to Cater, "Hey don't you like Yuu haven't you asked them out a whole bunch you should be worried about this-" blah blah blah, look Cater wasn't there to see Yutu arrive, and he knows the froshes like to exaggerate. There is no way Yutu fell out of the sky and it isn't a big deal that he knows so much about Yuu. They're probably just childhood friends, and those never win even if it would be kind of cute- hey maybe they're related??? It doesn't matter, Cater is determined not to think about it. Which leads to a series of miscommunications where Cater tries teasing Yutu but it just makes him look like an ass for assuming things.

Yutu actually finds this sort of interesting. Now that he actually is talking to his dad, well no. Now that he has actually heard his dad open his mouth and speak it is sort of difficult to think of him as a blot monster or to be afraid. Overblot Cater never said something like "yikes a tron 3000." He thinks he gets what Yuu was remembering about him, Cater can come off as very fake sure, but there are traces of the real him in what he does and says. His dad likes the color yellow, catchy music, being praised when he does something cool, and he wants to be taken care of by someone. Someone Yutu suspects is his parent~

It also helps that he has been stealing Yuu's phone while they're asleep (he tried their password from the future it still worked rip bozo) and scrolls through Cater's magicam feed to try and get a sense for what he liked in between all the trends. He noticed the skateboard stuff and made sure to ask about it by saying something about how "oh I heard about it from Yuu, they thought it was really cool."

Cater isn't really ready to be a dad, but he is surprisingly chill when he learns just who Yutu is.

"Oh please you're here aren't you? You wouldn't be unless I wanted you." Cater sounds so ridiculously sure of himself that Yutu half wonders if he is talking to someone else. But no, it's his dad. His very creative, very good with people, sometimes a bit depressed dad who respects him enough to be honest with him. "You have to know that Yuu wants you to be here, right? I didn't screw that up for you, did I?"

"It wasn't you." He needed to say that out loud for himself, because it wasn't. Yutu's Cater was dead a long time before he ever got to see him. "It looked like you, but it wasn't you."

They like to play music together sometimes, but in typical pop music club fashion they usually just eat snacks and talk. Yutu wants to play some of the music on the recordings Crewel gave him with Cater and Cater wants to make new tracks. He is a bit disappointed that there was no magicam in the future for Yutu to tell him about, but he is just as happy to hear weird trends from Yuu's world.

Cater likes to bring Yuu in to these jam sessions sometimes. He does like to do couple stuff with Yuu on magicam sometimes, but he prefers to keep his more genuine emotions and moments to himself. He will get very embarrassed if he finds out that Yutu has been taking pictures with the ghost camera behind his back.

The future that Yutu came from scares him, he would prefer someone else take the lead on figuring out how to fix it, but if monsters begin attacking in this time? Well he has no problem taking point on that, hey he's heard kids find things less scary if they see their dad's there to protect them.

And Cater is pretty scary when he's mad about missing out on something ♡

[shawtythatluvsurgut]

hey guys. i got back from seeing my dad (i was gone all of september doing that) and realized that im $150 short on rent for this month. i lost around 50 subs from that one month i took away and i totally understand and am not mad at anyone for unsubbing, but it’s put me in a pickle for paying my rent in november. by a pickle, i mean that im $150 short. it’s embarrassing to admit this, but i miscalculated when i bought my tickets to stay longer and thought id have enough for my upcoming rent. technically i should have had enough, but losing that many subs really put a dent in my finances. i’m kinda stressing right now so if anyone can send anything id appreciate the help so so much. i will also send personalized content as a thank you. you can also help by subscribing to my OF (im back to posting somewhat regularly) so that we both benefit.

i’m sorry that the disneyland plan didn’t work out. i was looking forward to eating good, way too expensive food, but my dad’s health took a turn. that’s why i made the last minute decision to cancel disney and extend my trip in north cal. i couldn’t get a refund because disney is full of cash cows, so im kinda screwed right now. i’m glad i recalculated before the first of november hit because i can at least try to see if anyone can help.

also, i have video ideas coming to my OF. right now i want to keep my weight somewhat consistent or maybe gain slowly because i, too, have been having some minor health issues (not due to gaining, but gaining isn’t helping right now). I AM NOT LOSING WEIGHT OR PLANNING TO. I am just going to go easy on how fast i gain. i have a stuffing video planned for this month, along with my usual pictures semi-daily.

i just needed to be upfront and let everyone know what is going on with me. my dad is dying, i’m in school and i hate it, school has been taking up a LOT of my free time, i didn’t calculate my money correctly, and i got my meds switched. i feel like a zombie lately. and i may have lost a friendship/relationship that was very dear to my heart in the midst of this stress.

if i had other options, i would choose those first. but, unfortunately, i don’t. i don’t mean to sound like a bum asking y’all to help me financially or sub to my OF or whatever, but im kinda freaking out a little. so if anyone can help, even just an OF subscription, i would GREATLY appreciate it. even if it’s just for this month.

i feel so pathetic right now begging for help online, but hopefully my upfront honesty will relate to someone. sometimes saving is hard and i’m a blonde so ya know i can’t do math and idk im embarrassed. if anyone wants to buy a custom please message me on here or on OF if you’re subscribed. i’ll be putting in the work to try to bring y’all back and keep y’all satisfied. that’s a big priority for me and im sorry again to anyone who subbed to watch me eat at disneyland. i didn’t want to cancel that, but my dad was officially diagnosed with congestive heart failure on the day before i was supposed to fly down to LA and i couldn’t leave him. he’s put in the work to earn his spot back in my life and i couldn’t leave him the day he got that news. i love him and my mom despite any hardships and the last thing i could do was ditch him. i hope me being real helps you guys understand why i didn’t deliver on the disneyland content.

i understand if you are upset and you have every right to be! but i figured maybe being honest about what im going through could maybe help some of y’all build back trust with me. i feel very awkward and uncomfortable sharing such intimate information, but i think it’s what’s fair to all of you. thank you to all who have stuck around <3 and thank you to any/all who subscribe and/or send me money to help me out.

sending so much love to you all, as this has been a hard year for more people than just myself. the world needs a bit of honesty and transparency, and you all deserve that, so that’s what i’m going to give. <3

- Nico

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Nightlife 14

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, touching, coercion, manipulation. Proceed with caution.

Note: I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you doing this? Well, you wanted bouncer Lee and I did too. Also, short!reader, not sorry.

Part of The Club AU

You sit on the couch, your back to the armrest, your legs bent over Lee's lap. The TV glares over you as you chew your thumb, paying little attention to the classic 70s thriller. You can't escape the pit of self-pity that threatens to swallow you up.

You feel his hand on your thigh, kneading through your thin shorts, but you don't react. He's touchy feely like that but you've learned to just tune it out. You pick at your thumbnail as you drift into your doubts.

"Y'alright?" He asks as he gently taps your leg.

"Yeah, good," you wisp out, startled by his sudden intonation, "just thinking…"

"Ah, don't do much of that. Should be tryna enjoy our time together," he squeezes your thigh, "ain’t this nice, darling'?"

"Yea–" before you can answer, your phone buzzes loudly and rattles against the wooden coffee table.

You swing your legs off of Lee and he huffs. You grab your phone as the bold word 'Dad' beams at you from the screen. You fumble to get a grip and hit answer as you stand and quickly skirt away from the couch.

"Hi, dad," you keep your voice low as you put your finger in your other ear.

"I got your message, what is going on?" He asks bluntly.

You gulp as you enter the small kitchen, trying to escape the noise of the television. You turn and press your back to counter, mustering what little backbone you have.

"Um, dad, it's about school–"

"Don't tell me I have to spend even more on this," he snips.

"No, dad, I… please, I'm sorry…" your chest fills up, feeling as if it might burst, "I have to tell you something."

"Then tell me. I have a business dinner in ten minutes."

You inhale and close your eyes. Your ears are ringing. He's going to lose his mind. You remember how he tore up the participation ribbon you got in cross country running. Yeah, he doesn't like losers.

"I'm failing. I'm going to lose my scholarship–"

"What?!" He yells, "don't fucking do this to me."

"Please, dad, let me– I schedule an appointment with an academic counselor and I might–"

"No, no, we had a deal," his anger burns through the speaker, "you've gone and wasted my money. You stupid little girl. How hard is it to maintain a B average? That's all I asked and you once more disappoint me–"

You're choking on tears as you listen to his wrath. You shake and cross your arm over your stomach. It's what you expected but worse.

"You are getting a job and you are paying rent. Fucking dropout. My daughter, a failure. A goddamn disappointment–"

You move the phone away from your face as his voice rises louder and louder. You can hear him clearly still as you tremble and stare at the pulsing icon at the center of the screen.

"Loser–"

The phone is suddenly swiped from your hand as Lee fills the doorway and you squeak. You try to take it back as he clears his throat and puts it to his ear. No! No! You clutch your hands together in horror.

"Now, you don't talk to her like that. That's your daughter, she ain't need all that. She's asking for your help– I'll tell ya who I am. Someone who cares a lot more for her than you," Lee balls his fist as he grits his teeth, "don't you be calling her all those nasty names. Ahe ain't that, she's a good lady– ah you talk a lot for a man who isn't standing in front me."

"Lee!" You squeal, "please–"

"You don't want her to come home then she won't. She's got me and I'll take care of her. Yeah, yeah, go have a fucking heart attack, you old coot."

He pulls the phone away and jabs his thumb down on the screen. He drops it on the counter and shakes his head.

"He's got no business talkin' to ya that way," he growls.

"Lee, that's my dad–"

"And ya didn't even hear half of what he said to me. You want to call someone like him your family when he ain't got no love for you," he scoffs.

You cover your face and heave. Oh god! You turn and lean on the counter, bending over as you hide behind your hands and sob. Everything is crashing down around you.

"Baby, don't cry. I was just standing up for ya, like you deserve," he puts his hand on your back, "ain't fair of ya to try to make me feel bad for that."

"You don't understand," you garble as you stand straight and drag your hands down your face, "he's all I have. My only family–"

"And you're scared as hell of him. That's not family, is it? He's pushing you to be something you ain't. You know I love you however you are."

"Love," you croak, "I… Lee, I…" you turn back to the counter and grip the edge.

You suffocate on shallow breaths as your head pulses. You can't see straight, you can barely think. It's not supposed to be like this. You weren't supposed to make your father proud. You were supposed to make something of yourself.

"Honey pie," he eases you away from the counter, keeping an arm around your back as you lean heavily, "come on, you needa breathe. Let's get you laying down, huh?"

He guides you out of the kitchen and through the front room. He takes you into the bedroom and puts you in the bed. Your eyes threaten to roll back as you suck in air.

He puts you against the pillows and wraps a blanket around you. He leaves and returns with a mewling Hickory, placing the cat on your stomach.

"Now, now, look, the little thing's so worried for ya. Give him a pet," he coos, "y'alright, honey, just calm down."

He loosens the blanket and lifts your arm above it, placing your hand on Hickory's soft fur.

"Feel that, he loves ya too," Lee coaxes, "he needs ya."

You stroke the kitten gently and slowly catch your breath. You let your eyes close and murmur. You don't know what's going on, it's as if you feel everything draining from you. A fracture forms down your middle and you know there's no way to put yourself back together.

"We're your family, blossom," Lee says, "me and Hick."

[munson-blurbs]

Love You Through It (Dad!Eddie x Mom Reader)

Summary: When you're struggling with postpartum depression, Eddie brings in some help. Just a little blurb.

Warnings: depression, anxiety, mention of pregnancy, Stancy is canon

WC: 915

A/N: I've struggled with depression, but not PPD. I tried to draw on my own experiences and what I've heard from others, and I hope I did this request justice.

--

On a Sunday morning, you wake up to the sound of Eddie's voice crackling through the baby monitor.

"Good morning, Melly Bean! Today's gonna be a beautiful day," he coos. You want to smile, soak in the way your husband dotes on your two-month-old daughter, but you just can't. It feels like there's something blocking you from feeling happy.

You roll over in bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. Eddie's baby talk fades from the monitor but gets closer to your bedroom door.

"You wanna go see Mommy? Show her how much you love her?" he asks, even pausing as if Melody can give an answer.

"Hi Mama Munson," Eddie calls to you from the doorway. "Someone wants to say 'good morning.'" His sweet smile morphs into a frown when he sees you burrowed into the blankets. "Sweetheart? What's going on?"

"Nothing," you insist, voice muffled by the layers covering you. "Just wanna sleep."

Eddie looks at you, concern evident all over his face. "Okay, love," he says finally, "we'll be in the living room if you need us."

You wait until after he closes the door to sob into your pillow.

~

"Hello?" Steve answers the phone groggily, glancing at the time. Only 7:30 AM; who could be calling at this hour?

"Harrington," Eddie''s visibly relieved by the sound of his friend's voice. "There's something wrong with Y/N."

Steve sits up immediately at this news. "What do you mean?" he asks, panicked. "Does she need to go to the hospital?" Eddie hears Nancy's quiet voice, and Steve repeats what Eddie just told him.

"I don't--I don't know if you go to the hospital for this," Eddie tells him. "She stays in bed all the time, she doesn't want to be with the baby, she barely eats..."

Nancy takes the receiver from her husband. "Eddie?" she says. "Hon, that sounds like postpartum depression."

Eddie's eyes widen. "What do I do? I've been trying to handle everything but I'm just so...tired," he admits. "It's a lot, but I don't want to make her feel worse."

"I'm coming over," Nancy says, throwing off her covers. "Give me half an hour, okay?"

Eddie nods before realizing she can't see him. "Thanks, Nance," he whispers.

~

Your bedroom door is nudged open, but instead of Eddie, Nancy's standing there.

"Can I come in?" she asks, and you nod slowly. It seems like everything is happening in slow motion these days.

She takes a seat next to you on the edge of the bed. "Eddie called us," she explains softly, rubbing your back. "He's worried about you, babe. We all are."

"'M fine," you lie, but it's no use trying to pull one over on Nancy.

"No," she shakes her head, "you're not. You should talk to your doctor, but I think you have postpartum depression."

"But how?" you cry out, voice catching in your throat. "I'd get it if I was alone, or there was something wrong with Melody, or the delivery..." You start to cry again, and you're genuinely shocked that you haven't dehydrated from all the tears you've shed. "But Eddie has been amazing, and the baby is happy and healthy, and my delivery was fine."

Nancy offers a small smile. "Unfortunately, it doesn't always work like that," she says. "It can happen to any new mommy, regardless of the circumstances."

"Nance, I feel so guilty all the time," you confide in a hushed whisper. "I want to do more, but it's like my brain and my body won't cooperate. And then it all falls on Eddie, which makes me feel even worse. Like..." you pause before allowing the truth to spill out, "like I'm failing at being a mom."

Your friend squeezes your arm gently. "You are not a failure," she reassures you. "We're gonna help you get through this, okay? This isn't your fault. If anything, it's Eddie's fault for getting you pregnant in the first place." she says with a giggle.

"I heard that!" Eddie calls out, peeking his head into the doorway. Nancy stands up when he comes in.

"You two get some rest, and I'll make some breakfast." She scoops up the baby monitor on her way out. "Don't worry about Melody; I'll take care of her if she needs me."

Eddie snuggles into bed behind to you and presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck. "You know I adore you, right?"

"Of course," you reply. "I'm sorry I haven't been showing you how much I adore you, Eds."

"My love, you carried our perfect daughter for nine months. What else can I ask for?"

"I don't know," you reply tersely, "maybe a wife who can take care of her baby, who can take care of herself?"

"And you will," he tells you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling you impossibly close. "But right now, we're gonna sleep. And when we wake up, Nancy is gonna help us find someone you can talk to. Like a therapist or something," he clarifies.

You take his hand and kiss it. "Do you think Melody hates me?" you whisper.

"Hates you? Oh, baby, absolutely not," Eddie gives a little laugh. "She loves her mommy. And she knows how much I love you, too."

"And how much is that?" you tease, snuggling into him.

Eddie's peppering kisses all over your face, his curly hair and hint of stubble tickling your cheeks.

"Does that answer your question?"

--

[prince-liest]

I didn't understand what people meant when they said that the patients where I've done medical school and am doing residency are "very sick," and I'm starting to realize that this is because I haven't actually had context for practicing medicine in a location where patients are less sick, and it is not in fact all that average to think, "It's a good day when I have a patient with a functioning liver and kidneys!" or be pleasantly surprised when I don't have to list "type 2 diabetes mellitis, hypertension, hyperlipidemia, chronic kidney disease stage X, heart failure (of some sort)" on the chart's problem list just, like, at default baseline, with a side of chronic opioid use and/or intravenous drug abuse.

On the other hand, those same people were correct: it's making me better at treating all of those things and handling comorbidities really quick!

One of the big things I keep running into is pain management, because three common things for me to see are liver disease and kidney failure. To simplify it a lot, liver disease precludes the use of acetamniphen/Tylenol, and kidney failure precludes the use of ibuprofen/NSAIDs. There are other pain treatment medications, but I have less experience with them, and they tend to either be for more specific/adjuvant uses (like lidocaine, the gabas, antidepressants, steroids) or opioids... and I've literally seen two patients in the past week who had to get Narcan for opioid overuse.

On the other hand, obviously people in the hospital often have very legitimate reasons to be in pain and we don't want to leave them that way. But it's a hard line to walk when the family is asking questions like "Why is dad not getting enough pain medication?" and "Why is dad talking to the walls about his days in the war?" or when you get people pulling shenanigans like, "I'm allergic to Tylenol, give me Norco instead!" (Hint: Look up what the main ingredient in Norco is.)

Thank you, on-call pharmacy. :'))))

Another thing I'm quickly becoming relieved about is patients who are...not jerks, I guess? It feels not great to put it that way because generally being in the hospital is an extremely poor time for anyone, but also, it sucks when a solid 1/3 of my patients are actively ornery to everyone who tries to work with them for whatever reason (altered mental status, depression, being in pain, general anger issues, drug withdrawal). Shoutout to the folks actively working together with me to help them get better.

Anyway, the hospital is very tiring. Surely the emergency department I'm going to next will - nah, I can't even pretend to finish that joke.

YOLO! I am really enjoying how much and how quickly I'm learning! Despite the crazy hours this is definitely a drastic improvement on medical school in terms of actually enjoying the work.

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part three] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (18+ mdni), menstruation

word count: 4.1k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

“How do I look?” you asked the boys as you pulled your hair from the collar of your shirt and settled back into your seat.

“You looked fine before,” Jisung mumbled to himself before catching your glare. “But you look lovely, as always, baby.”

You cocked your head to the side and grinned. “Thanks, Ji.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you look great,” Minho chimed in. 

For someone who had seemed wholly uninterested in your existence fifteen minutes ago, Minho was being pretty friendly as of now. Maybe he liked fucking with Jisung just as much as you did. 

“Thank you, Minho,” you said, not missing the smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth. You ignored it. “Babe,” when Jisung didn’t react you reached for his shoulder to get his attention. “How much further?”

“Oh, uh…” he leaned over the console to glance at Minho’s GPS. “Like fifteen minutes, why? Everything okay?” He knit his eyebrows together in concern and gave you a once over.

“Yeah, everything’s fine- I was just curious.” 

“Am I that bad of a driver?” Minho joked as he jerked the car around a turn at full speed, sending his brother flying into the passenger’s side door.

“I don’t know, maybe let your four failed driver’s tests speak for themselves,” Minho scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Four?” you gasped. 

“One of those was in America!” Minho protested defensively. 

“That still means you failed three of them here,” you pointed out.

“It wasn’t my fault!”

You narrowed your eyes. “Oh, did the curb jump out at you?” 

“That’s exactly what happened,” he insisted, “and something about automatic failure for hitting cones?”

“Jesus, should you even have a license?” 

“One more speeding ticket and he won’t.”

“Jisung, do you want to walk the rest of the way home?” Your best friend seemed to consider it, but rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat instead. “That’s what I thought.”

Even though Minho wasn’t the best driver, the car handled on the road pretty well. You wondered to yourself how much the Audi must’ve cost. You knew they were expensive to begin with, but from what you could tell this was a recent model and had at least a couple upgrades from standard. It was a stark contrast from Jisung’s 2009 Prius back at school and made you curious as to what his brother did for a living. Your mind automatically went to dealing. Jisung never talked about his older brother… maybe that was why? But as hard as you tried you couldn’t imagine the clean-cut wonder bread boy in the driver’s seat traversing the underground world of drugs, even with that smug smirk of his. No, that couldn’t be it. But what? 

Before you could explore any other options Minho was pulling onto a residential street and actually slowing for the first time since getting in the car. He braked in front of a gated split-level and turned to his brother. 

“I have to take care of something before dinner, but I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he explained and unlocked the doors.

Take care of something? Had you been right about-

“What do you have to do?” Jisung asked, verbalizing your inner monologue.

“Feed the cats,” Minho replied simply. 

You perked up. “You have cats?”

Minho gave you a weird look like somehow you should have already known that, but nodded anyway. “They’re technically family cats, but they stay at our place. I have to feed them her before going over to mom and dad’s, but tell them I’ll be there soon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jisung mumbled as he got out of the car and signaled for you to do the same. “Leave your car unlocked so we can get our bags out later, yeah?”

“Fine, but if my car gets stolen, it’s on you.”

“No one is going to break into your car stop being so dramatic!”

Minho said something else before driving away, but you were jolted by the feeling of a hand on the small of your back and missed it. 

“Sorry,” Jisung said low enough for only you to hear, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered back. “I’m just a little jittery.”

He gave a sort of half-chuckle and took your hand in his, nodding toward the house. “C’mon, they’re waiting.”

You made your way through the front gate and up the stone steps to the front door. The pathway was lined with planted flowers and little ceramic tiles and pots that looked like they had been made by a child. You paused when you saw a mold of baby hand-prints with Jisung + Felix scrawled underneath. 

“Did you guys make this?” you asked. 

Jisung leaned in closer to see what you were looking at and grinned. “Oh my god yeah, like ages ago. Mum made all of us do them when we turned one.”

“Where’s Minho’s?”

“In pieces in the attic.”

“What happened to it?” 

“Baseball accident,” he explained with a shrug. “My mom said she’d glue it back together, but it never happened. Now it’s just the two best Hans in the garden.”

You straightened back up and gave him a shove. “Stop it.”

“Hey, am I wrong?”

“I don’t know, I only just met your older brother,” you reminded him. “So I guess the jury’s still out on that one.”

“You could just take my word for it,” Jisung offered.

“Nice try, Han.”

Jisung held his hand back out for you to take and tugged you the rest of the way to the door, not letting you stop to look at any more old art projects despite your protests. Once you were on the front stoop he took a deep breath and glanced over to you. His hand was familiar, but sweaty in yours. 

“Ready?”

“What would you do if I said no?” you asked, a smirk playing at your lips. “Just walked down the steps and got a cab back to the airport?”

He visibly relaxed and shook his head at you. “I’m afraid it’s a bit too late for that,” he said and rung the bell without further hesitation. 

“Jisung!” 

“Y/n!”

You pretended to panic. “If I run away now, they’ll see me stranding their heartbroken son on his own front doorstep! That would not make a good first impression.”

“Pity. I guess you’d better stick around then.”

“If I have to.”

Just then, the door swung open and you were being ushered inside by several people at once. While Jisung exchanged hellos with his family you took a head count of everyone inside, making mental notes of who was who, finally putting faces to the names you’d studied on the plane hours earlier. 

“This is my girlfriend, y/n,” Jisung said and stepped aside to introduce you. This time you didn’t cringe when he called you his girlfriend. 

You braced yourself for all of the attention, feeling your heart plunge into your stomach when all eyes turned to you. Felix went in for a hug while his parents shook your hand politely. 

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, y/n!” his mother, Nikki, exclaimed, beaming. “I wish we could say we’ve heard so much about you, but,” she stared pointedly at her son, “it’s like pulling teeth to get Jisung to tell us anything about his life.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware,” you said and chuckled. “I didn’t even know how many brothers he had until like a few months ago, and we’ve been dating for how long?”

“Well, either way, we’re thrilled to get to know you in person!”

“Likewise,” you agreed. “Thank you so much for letting me tag along with you guys!”

“Of course,” his father piped up, “we’re happy to have you.”

“You two must be exhausted after that flight. We won’t keep you long. Dinner’s on the table in the dining room, but where’s your brother?” Nikki turned to Sam expectantly. 

“He went to feed the cats, but he said he’d be right over.”

Jisung's dad checked his watch and sighed. “Does he expect us to wait for him?”

Jisung shrugged. “I dunno.”

Felix opened his mouth to interject, but the sound of the front door opening and closing behind you stopped the conversation in its tracks. You watched as Minho leaned an arm against the door frame and kicked off his shoes, noticing the way his t-shirt rode up to show his stomach and the elastic of his Calvin Kleins. 

“Were your ears burning?” Nikki asked, snapping you out of your staring, as she went to hug Minho. 

“Should they have been?”

“We were just talking about your excellent punctuality,” his dad remarked.

Minho smirked. “Yeah, anything else? What about my charm? Good looks?”

“Just your enormous ego,” Jisung said through a cough.

“Play nice, boys,” Nikki warned, pointing a finger at all three of her sons.

“I didn’t even say anything!” Felix protested.

“You were thinking it.”

Once around the dinner table you finally began to relax, feeling more comfortable with Jisung’s family as time passed. As the tension eased from your body, the fatigue began to set in. Your muscles were starting to feel stiff and your social energy was fading fast. You let them do most of the talking, only speaking up when questions were directed at you. Answers from your flashcards rolled off your tongue without a second thought. You knew all of the dates and facts like the back of your hand and Jisung was doing surprisingly well too. 

“You know,” Felix started in the middle of Jisung recounting one of your dates, “I always knew you two would get together.”

You and Jisung both whipped your heads towards him simultaneously. 

“You did?” 

“Yeah, it was obvious you liked each other,” he continued, “neither of you were very good at hiding it so it was only a matter of time.” This was news to you. You had thought Felix was one of the few people who had seen what your relationship with Jisung really was, yet here he was saying what everyone else already thought. “I mean, you two couldn’t keep your hands off of each other-”

Your eyes went wide at the same time Jisung choked on his drink in shock. You heard Minho chuckle under his breath from across the table. 

“Okay, you can spare us the details, Lix,” their dad said.

“He didn’t mean it like that,” Jisung clarified, glaring at his twin. “We’ve just always been close is all.”

“It’s so nice that you were such good friends before you started dating,” Nikki added. “It removes some of that new relationship awkwardness since you already know each other so well.”

Jisung cleared his throat. “Well as nice as it’s been talking about my dating life, I think y/n and I are going to head back over to the flat. We’re both pretty tired.”

“Wait,” you whispered at him, “shouldn’t we help with the dishes?”

“Oh you don’t need to do that, you’re our guest!” Nikki insisted.

“Are you sure? You all made us this lovely meal, it would be the least we could do-”

“No, no, we’ll have Minho and Felix help us. You two go and get some rest. You’ve had a long day and we have another big day tomorrow.”

“Okay, well thank you so much again for dinner.”

“Thanks, mom, it was really good,” Jisung said and gave his mother a hug before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and waving goodbye to the rest of his family members. 

-

A wave of relief washed over you as soon as you stepped outside and it took all of your strength not to jump and cheer in celebration.

“Dude, that was so good!” Jisung hissed to you as you hurried down the garden path together.

“I know!” you squeezed his hand in excitement. “We crushed it.”

“We totally did. Thanks to you.”

“No, thanks to you,” you argued back. 

“It was a team effort,” he decided.

Your bags were still in the trunk of Minho’s car right where you’d left them a couple of hours earlier and Jisung insisted on carrying them both up the stairs to his room. 

“I’m supposed to be your boyfriend!”

“Okay and? What fucking year is this, 1956?”

He gave you a look. “Just let me carry your fucking bag up to our room. I’m trying to be chivalrous, okay?”

“Fine, knock yourself out, Prince Charming.”

“Thank you.”

You rolled your eyes and slammed the trunk closed behind him after grabbing the backpacks. You followed Jisung up the steps to the flat and watched him punch in a code that unlocked the front door.

Inside, two boys you didn’t recognize sat on the couch playing something on their xbox. They looked up when they heard the click of the lock and nodded in hello, not offering any other introduction.

“Hey guys,” Jisung said as if they were an afterthought and took the stairs two at a time. He led you down a hallway to a room tucked away in the corner of the house. “This is my room.”

It was small, but full of pieces of furniture, none of which looked like they belonged to Jisung. A queen-sized bed sat pushed up against the back wall of the room underneath the slanted ceiling fitted with a thick white comforter and matching pillows. A full length ornate mirror leaned against the same wall and was adjacent to a dresser and another chest of drawers. Why a room that seemed to be devoid of all personal articles needed so much storage you weren’t sure, but none of the furniture matched which only added to the mystery. 

“They use it for storage when I’m gone,” he explained and dropped the suitcases on top of the chest. 

“What?”

“My roommates. They put all the shit they don’t need in my room since I don’t technically live here anymore.”

“That’s kind of shitty.”

He shrugged. “I mean, I never had to pay rent for living here, and I still have a place to stay when I do come to visit, so this is a small price to pay.”

“I guess that’s fair.” You walked over to the bed and tossed the backpacks on top of it. “So those guys downstairs…”

“Are my roommates, minus Minho and Felix of course.”

“Yeah, the tall one-”

“Hyunjin?”

“Is he single?”

Jisung rolled his eyes. “Yes, but you aren’t.”

“Fuck, right.”

“Rule number eleven, y/n.”

“He’s not your brother!”

“He might as well be!” he argued. 

You groaned and unzipped your suitcase, digging through it to find your pajamas. You landed on a pair of boxers you had stolen from a guy your sophomore year and a white tank top. Jisung was already taking off his shirt at that point so you just turned around and changed right there. No big deal. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done this in the back of his brother’s car a few hours ago, and you changed in front of each other all the time. So then, why did it feel different now? 

When you were finished getting dressed you shoved your airport clothes back into your suitcase and traded them for your toothbrush and toothpaste. 

“Where are you going?” Jisung asked. 

“To brush my teeth before I forget.”

“Don’t get lost.”

You brushed the joke off, but quickly realized that you actually had no idea where you were going. Each door in the hallway looked exactly the same and they were all completely shut so you couldn’t peek inside to see if the room it was attached to was a bathroom.

Eventually, you resolved to just open the door directly across the hall. There seemed to be light coming from underneath it. That was a promising sign, right? You braced yourself, turned the knob on the door, and pushed it open. You knew immediately that you had not found the bathroom. 

Minho was lying propped up on his bed in nothing other than a pair of grey sweatpants with a manilla folder lying on his chest. He looked up at you standing in his doorway and quirked an eyebrow. 

“Can I help you?”

“Uhhhh…” you trailed off, cheeks burning as you stared at the boy laying on his bed. 

Minho tilted his head to the side, his cocky expectant expression falling into one of concern. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“Sorry, it’s just… this isn’t the bathroom…”

He looked around the room like he was double-checking it wasn’t, making you roll your eyes. “No, it’s not. Do you need help finding it?” He moved like he was going to get up from the bed and you put a hand out to stop him. 

“No, no it’s okay. I’ll find it eventually,” you assured him. 

“You sure? There are a lot of doors in that hallway. Wouldn’t want you accidentally walking in on another poor, unsuspecting boy in their bedroom.”

You narrowed your eyes, but let the comment slide. You didn’t know him like that, and as badly as you wanted to quip back, you were still trying to make a decent impression on Jisung’s family. “About that, how many people live here?” 

Minho chuckled. “There are four of us. Five when Jisung is home from school.” 

“Jesus. That sounds like-“ 

“Fun?”

“A nightmare.”

“Depends on how you look at it,” he said and shrugged. “I’m living with my best friends, but you’re staying with four random dudes like you’re on an episode of New Girl.”

“I know Felix. He’s not a random dude,” you pointed out.

“Details.” Minho glanced down at your boxer shorts, then back up at you. You realized he had probably clocked them as his brother’s. He cleared his throat. “As nice as it is chatting here with you, my brother is probably wondering where his girlfriend wandered off to.” 

You remembered the toothbrush in your hand at that moment and clutched it to your chest. “Right. Sorry.” You stood unmoving in his doorway and rocked back on your heels awkwardly, knowing you had to ask the question you were too stubborn to ask. 

“Was there something else?” Minho asked. 

“Um, which way is the bathroom?” 

He grinned. “Turn left, it’s the door right next to mine.” 

Fuck. So close.

You squeezed your eyes shut and cursed to yourself. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” 

You turned to leave but stopped short when he spoke up from behind you again. “Goodnight, y/n,” 

“Goodnight, Minho.” 

-

In the bathroom, you brushed your teeth as fast as humanly possible, admittedly not for the dentist-recommended full two minutes, and then splashed some cold water on your face to try and tone down your flushed embarrassment. 

“You okay?” Jisung asked when you finally found your way back to his room. “You were gone for a while.”

“Yeah, I just, uh…”

“You actually got lost didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Maybe.”

Jisung just shook his head then grabbed his own toothbrush. “I’ll be right back.” 

The door clicked softly shut behind him and you took that as your cue to fall back onto the bed and take up as much room as possible. You sprawled out in the starfish position, stretching your stiff muscles. You sighed and let your eyelids flutter shut, thinking you would just rest them for a bit before Jisung came back. It felt like no time had passed when you woke back up to him nudging your limp body with his knee. 

“Roll over,” he grunted. 

“Nooo,” you groaned. “Can’t. Move.” 

“Y/n, I swear to God-“

“I didn’t know you believed in God.”  

“Jesus fucking Christ you’re so annoying,” he huffed as he shoved you over so he could get in the bed. 

“If you keep taking the Lord’s name in vain I’ll have no choice but to go to the Priest.” 

“In that case, wait until he hears about all of the premarital eye contact you’ve been having.”

“Touché.” 

You sat up and shimmied under the covers next to him. The bed was small enough that your shoulders brushed against each other as you lay there on your backs underneath the thin sheets. His skin was warm to the touch and you had the sudden urge to curl up next to him and fall asleep with your body pressed against his. You resisted it. It struck you as odd, the longing feeling that sat uncomfortably in your chest. You tried your best to ignore it. 

“For the record I’m agnostic,” Jisung said.

“Of course you are,” you scoffed. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just, it seems like the easy choice. Ya know, like ‘maybe there’s something out there that’s bigger than us, but also maybe not’ so you get to be right either way? That’s bullshit, you gotta pick one.”

“To me, it seems kind of… hubristic for us as humans to be the ones to decide which gods to believe in. Or to decide if deities even exist for that matter.”

You hummed, too tired to truly process any of what he had just said. “Never thought about it that way. That semester of Philosophy 101 really did a number on you, didn’t it? ”

“Dr. Levi might be an asshole, but he made a lot of interesting points.”

“Who knew a gen-ed would be the thing to broaden your horizons.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he huffed, shoving your shoulder lightly, “and don’t tell my parents because I still go to church with them on Sundays.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Your dirty philosophical secret is safe with me.”

Even in the dark you could tell Jisung was rolling his eyes. “Well what about you? What do you believe in?” 

“Mm, I’d rather not talk about it.”

“I knew it. You’re a scientologist, aren’t you?” 

“I’m Tom Cruise’s closest confidante,” you whispered back. 

“When you see him next can you ask him about Mission Impossible Nineteen or whatever the fuck number they’re on?”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” you mumbled through a yawn.

Jisung reciprocated your yawn and shifted onto his side. “Tell him I want Rebecca Ferguson’s number.”

“I’ll relay the message, but I’m telling you now she’s out of your league.”

“Ouch.”

“She’s also like sixteen years older than you.” 

“You’re just jealous.”

“Maybe I am,” you agreed. “I do want to be a MILF someday.”

“That’s… not what I meant.”

-

In the morning you were able to find your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face without any accidental detours only to realize you’d started your period. 

“Fuck.”  

You couldn’t catch a damn break.

“Hey, you hungry?” Jisung asked once you’d returned back to his room.

“I could eat,” you said and nodded, “but, uh, do you guys have any pads… or tampons?”

“Shit, I don’t think so. My mom always tells us we should keep them around for friends or girls we have over, but none of us ever remember to pick them up when we go out to the shops.”

“Because you never have girls over?” 

“You’re here aren’t you?”

“Not voluntarily.”

Jisung pursed his lips. “Well is it, uh, a pressing matter?” 

“Um, it can wait until after breakfast. I made do with some toilet paper for now.”

He seemed jostled by that comment but didn’t press any further. “O-okay, we usually have cereal and stuff in the cupboards downstairs, but I can make you an omelet or some French toast if you’d like.” You mulled over the options in your mind and smiled to yourself as you slipped on a pair of socks. “What?”

“It’s nice having a fake-boyfriend that can cook.”

“It’s nice to have someone to cook for,” he added with a hint of a smile. “My roommates back at school are never home to try my cooking, and they don’t give a fuck about food anyway. They could eat ramen for every meal of the day for a month and not think twice about it.”

“I mean, I gotta give them some credit. Ramen is the breakfast of champions,” 

“The breakfast?” Jisung gagged. “I feel like I don’t even know you.”

“Yeah, pop one of those bad boys in the microwave before your lecture in the morning, eat it on the way and you’re good to go.”

“You’re not supposed to microwave them,” he sighed. 

“You think I have the time to boil water? I wake up ten minutes before class starts, you’re lucky I’m even having breakfast.”

“Your lifestyle stresses me out.”

“So you’ve told me.”

You perched yourself on the bed as Jisung pulled on a pair of sweatpants and ran a hand through his hair in an effort to tame his curls. 

“Ready to go downstairs?”

You nodded. “I think I’ll take you up on that omelet.”

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[keepingitsimple3]

Ok so lately, I’ve been taking a hard look at myself in the mirror lately. As I look in it, I see some good things I’ve grown into but, I’ve also seen some things I want to change. One of those things I’ve struggled with that has weighed me down all my life if perfectionism!

Perfectionism means that I want to be perfect and do everything perfectly. It basically is giving up my individual self for others and doing what they want and do what they need or even become the person they want me to be otherwise I feel like I won’t be good enough.

This has been my whole life! I’ve been trying to be something for my mom, my dad, my family, my friends and even myself.

When tragedy and trauma happened in my life I just kept pushing myself and said I had to be ok with it cause God had a reason for it! Everyone else believes that so should you!!!

But truth be told, as I get older and older, I realize how my perfectionism has been keeping me from God. My perfectionism makes me feel like I have to work to earn God’s love all the time because I’ve had to do it before so it would be no problem to do it for him.

It’s caused me stress, anxiety, fear of failure and loneliness because everyday I feel I will never be good enough for anyone.

It makes me feel like if I do one thing wrong even the littlest thing I will be the worst person in the world.

Yet, there is a little light at the end of this dark post. Cause tonight I though about the hardships of today! As a teacher I always try to get my kids to listen but today they weren’t no matter how hard I tried. And I thought it was my fault and I felt like I wanted to give up and cry. I asked God why! Why do I keep trying and trying and why can’t I be good enough!

Then it dawned on me! I am saved! God already has loved me before I was created and loves every part of me no matter how imperfect it may seem! He is there for me and does really allow things to happen for a reason! And he never and I mean never promised this life, this world would be easy!

We don’t need to work to get into heaven! If we trust in Jesus as our savior! We will be able to go to heaven! Now that doesn’t mean we can do whatever we want but it still gives me hope and shows me that I’m really not alone in this world! Not only that he has his word shown to me that shows others who have felt this way! Who have been through tragedy and who have been though hardships and have been angry with God or sad and felt alone! They overcame it, so can I.

And it’s ok if I was upset about the traumas of the past or the trials I faced! It’s important to communicate that! Because just because God doesn’t give you an answer right at that moment doesn’t mean he won’t comfort you at least.

So if you’re like me who has struggled with perfectionism, self doubt and has pushed themselves to BELIVE they have to push themselves to be good enough! Let that go! That will only weigh you down!

God already loves you!!!

God is proud of you!!!!

God does think you’re good enough!

God is there for you!!!!

Please don’t give up!!!!

Isaiah 41:10

10 So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.