#a year old laptop shouldn't be this! bad!!!!

[xxchumanixx]

No problem ma dear. I'm sure you're going to make the absolute freaking best our of my request. Happy to hear that you are going to make a story out of it 🥹♥️

Restoring faith

Tim Bradford x reader

Warnings/Tag: fluff, language, comfort, angst, hurt, readers ex was abusive, grumpy Tim (yes, he's a warning), not entirely proof read yet Word count: 5.933 Authors note: Hello love, thank you so much for the request! I had so much fun writing it, and again, I'm sorry for losing the original request (but, tell you what, I managed to get the request at least copied and pasted, because I hadn't closed tumblr on my laptop yesterday and it was still there (even though it was just a bug, but hey, i managed to copy the text)) Fun fact: My daughters name is gonna be Hailee one day (If I ever get a daughter). Also, I might have messed a little with the timeline (in terms of Celina appearing a little earlier) Here's the original request:

"I currently can't stop thinking about Tim Bradford so I came up with this grumpy Tim request, cause I need grumpy Tim becoming the protective sweet guy he is. Tim has a new neighbor, a single mom. Afraid that now his peace and quiet in his home will be over, he's convinced of the contrary when reader's little girl wrapped the grumpy neighbor around her little fingers.  

Reader wants to start a new life away from her abusive ex and so she moved states with her daughter. Tim instantly melts when the cute little girl gets bubbly when she sees Tim. 

In the meantime Tim has a suspicion why reader is a single mom, she flinches when there're loud noises or when he gets too close to her. One night she wanted to do something in her apartment and fell from the ladder hitting her head hard. Her daughter runs to Tim telling him her mommy is hurt. Reader has a bad concussion and at first doesn't recognize Tim thinking it's her ex hurting her. From that moment her secret is revealed and Tim swears to himself he's going to protect these two at all costs. Perhaps we can also see Tim nursing her back to health with her concussion 😱🙃🥹 "

Now, without further ado, enjoy!

"Hailee?"  

Rolling your eyes you sat the box in your hands down. Where did she go now? "Hailee?" you repeated louder, leaving the kitchen to go look for your daughter.  

Leaving the house you saw her at your car, with a stranger.  

"Hailee!" you called, as you suddenly panicked, running towards her. The stranger took a step back, holding up his hands.  

Stopping in front of your daughter, shielding her as you softly pushed her behind you, you looked up at the stranger.  

"Can I help you?" you asked, heart racing. 

Did he find you? But he was in jail - he shouldn't even know you moved states.  

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." the man returned, smiling slightly. "My name's Tim Bradford, I'm your neighbor. I saw that your daughter was alone and I just wanted to make sure she's okay."  

Eyes widening, you sighed in relief.  

"Sorry, I just-" you started, but cut yourself off. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N. We just moved here. Nice to meet you." He nodded, eyes wandering over the many boxes in and around your car. 

"Do you need help?" he asked, motioning at the boxes. "Oh..." you made, swallowing. "Yeah, some help would be nice, thank you." He smiled, a smile that caused you to return it.  

"Okay..." he mumbled, randomly picking one of the boxes and starting to walk towards the house. Picking up a box as well, you let Hailee walk in front of you, following Tim.  

He stood in the entryway, looking around. "Where do these boxes go?" he wanted to know. Reading what was written on the side of the box you motioned for the living room.  

He nodded, putting the box down.  

His eyes wandered over the numerous kids toys already scattered on the floor, cocking a brow.  

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you put your box down beside his.  

"She loves these toys, she's five." you explained, licking your bottom lip. He didn't seem too convinced of a five-year-old in his neighborhood, but you wouldn't let him judge early. 

Motioning outside, he walked out, picking up another box.  

"Hailee, honey, would you please stay here and wait for mommy and Tim to get the boxes inside?" you asked of her, motioning at the toys. She nodded, sitting down on a blanket and grabbing a few of her barbies.  

Nodding to yourself you walked outside, as Tim met you halfway, box in hand. 

It took an hour for you to bring all of the boxes inside, but when you were done you sighed in relief.  

"Thank you so much." you thanked Tim, handing him a beer. "I wish I could invite you for a dinner as a thanks, but my kitchen isn't ready for cooking yet, so more than takeout isn't possible for tonight." 

"Oh, don't worry, me and my girlfriend are going out for dinner tonight." he responded, smiling as he sipped his beer. 

His girlfriend. 

Damn, you should have known that a man this handsome would be in a relationship. 

Keeping a straight face, you nodded. "Well then, even better." you told him, smiling.  

When he was gone you and your daughter decided what to eat. "What about chicken nuggets?" you asked, watching her, as she drew flowers. 

"And fries?" Her eyes lit up, as she looked at you, hopefully. "Fries and nuggets for the lady it is, then." you told her, smiling. She cheered, eating a blueberry, before she continued drawing. 

_____ 

It had been a month, since you and Hailee moved into the house.  

The boxes had been unpacked and the house looked finished. You had seen Tim a few times, had talked to him and met his girlfriend Ashley.  

She seemed nice. 

Your new job had already begun, and Hailee was at the kindergarden. It seemed all good, letting you breathe more freely, since you moved states.  

Tim seemed hesitant whenever Hailee was near, like he was afraid she could disturb his peace, the quietness that convinced you to move to this street. 

You had just been grocery shopping, Hailee was playing with a stuffed animal you had bought for her, whilst you were unloading the car, when Tims truck parked in his driveway. 

He got out, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, as he saw you. Coming over, he greeted you. "Hey." you gave back, heart pumping a little faster. 

Even though he was in a relationship, that didn't mean that he wasn't handsome.  

His eyes briefly wandered to Hailee, who was playing with the stuffed animal, making sounds to emphasize it. He bit his cheek, not seeming convinced that she wouldn't start shouting any second. 

Clearing your throat you averted his attention back to you. "How is Ashley?" you asked, smiling. He stiffened, biting his cheek, but he tried to cover it up. "Oh, she's doing great." he lied, wearing a tight lipped smile. 

Biting your lip, you nodded. You weren't bad at profiling people, but you could've still been wrong about it. 

"How was work?" he wanted to know, adjusting his backpack. "Oh, it was great." you told him, nodding with a smile. "The coworkers are very nice, I think I'll stay."  

He nodded, and you made a little more smalltalk, before you realized that you had groceries that needed to be cooled.  

Apologizing, you said goodbye, before you and Hailee went inside. You looked back over your shoulder, seeing as he did the same. He waved goodbye, and you did the same, before closing the door. 

"Mommy?" Hailee asked, sitting down on the couch as you began to unpack the paperbags. You hummed, signalling for her to continue. "Why did Tim lie to you?"  

Eyes widening, you halted for a second, before you continued to pack the grocieries into the fridge. 

"What makes you think that he lied?" you wanted to know, surprised about her even noticing. "He..." she paused, searching for the right words. "He seemed like he didn't like your question."  

Huffing to yourself, you smiled. She clearly came after you. 

"You know, honey, sometimes people don't like to talk about their private life." you told her, continuing to unpack some fruits. "If he doesn't want to talk about breaking up with his girlfriend, than that's okay." 

"But mommy, you told me not to lie." she gave back, brows furrowing. "Lying is bad."  

You nodded, walking over to her with a small juice box with a tiger on it. Handing her the box, you sat down beside her. "That's right." you agreed, as she took the box and opened it. "But some things are private. And maybe he's just too hurt right now, to talk about it." 

Drinking the juice, she nodded. "Okay." she spoke, after putting the juice down on the coffee table. "Can I have some cookies?" Laughing, you shook your head. "No, honey, we'll cook now - cookies later." 

_____ 

The next day was your day off. Hailee stayed at home as well, so you could spend some time with her.  

You were baking, Hailee helping with the batter. Going through the list of things you needed for the batter, you noticed, that you didn't buy milk. 

"Damn it." you mumbled, biting your lip. "Dam-" Hailee wanted to mimick you, but you shut her up, your hand over her mouth as you sent her a pointed look. 

She grinned, causing you to shake your head, a smile on your lips, as you let go of her.  

You had real luck with her. She was a calm kid, one that wasn't stubborn or petulant - only in the right ways.  

Not like her father. 

Contemplating where to get milk from without driving to the next store, you bit your lip. 

You could go to Tim and ask him. 

"Hailee, what do you say if we ask Tim for some milk?" you asked your daughter, whose eyes lit up at the mention of him. She seemed to have grown a liking to him. 

"Okay." you mumbled, helping her down from the kitchen aisle. She ran forward and to the front door, before you stopped her. "Do you really want to go to Tim with your Frozen slippers?" you asked, cocking a brow. 

She blushed, giggling. "Do you think he likes Elsa, too?" she wanted to know, eyes sparkling. Chuckling, you kneeled down to help her into her boots.  

"I bet he loves her, just as much as you do." you told her, smiling. Giggling again, she slipped into the boots, the little lights on them flashing in multiple colors.  

Opening the door, she ran foward. Luckily Tims house was next to yours, so you didn't have to worry about her running out on the street.  

Picking her up, you helped her to ring the doorbell. It took a few seconds, in which you sat her down again, for Tim to open the door. 

His eyes widened slightly, as he saw you. "Hi." you greeted, blushing a little. "Hey." he returned, eyes narrowing. "We're sorry to interrupt, but we wanted to bake and I forgot to buy milk." you explained, sending him a crooked smile, as you wrung your hands nervously.  

"Do you happen to have some spare, that we can borrow?" His brows rose, one corner of his mouth turning upwards. "Borrow?"  

Biting your lip, you chuckled. "Yeah, with the intention to buy a new one." you explained. He huffed in amusement, before he nodded. "Sure, just give me a second." he told you, before he disappeared back into the house. 

A few seconds later, he returned, handing you the milk. You shrinked back, flinching, before you reminded yourself that he didn't want to cause you any harm. 

His mouth slightly opened, as his arm sank down a little, brows furrowing. Taking the milk from him, you breathed in deeply, trying to cover your reaction up. "Thank you." you nodded, forcing yourself to smile. "I'm gonna go grocery shopping tomorrow, then I'll get you a new one." 

He nodded as well, still a little confused from your reaction.  

When he was about to say goodbye, Hailee spoke up, holding up the new stuffed animal. "This is mr. Bubbles." she told him. You hadn't noticed her bringing it along.  

It was an elefant in the shape of a teacup. She had instantly loved it, after discovering it at the kids section.  

Tim looked at you, like he was looking for help. Motioning at your daughter with your head, you smiled a little. He looked down at her, inspecting the toy.  

"Cool." he told her, forcing himself to smile. "Looks... interesting." She giggled, not noticing his discomfort. But you did. Swallowing, your hand found her back. "Say bye to Tim." you told her. "Bye Tim!" she shouted, already running towards your front door.  

Clearing your throat, you nodded at him. "See you." He nodded in return. "Yeah, see you." 

Sighing on your way back, you swallowed.  

He clearly wasn't fond of the idea of a child next door.  

_____ 

When the pie and muffins were done, you sighed. 

Your kitchen looked like shit. 

Starting to clean up, your daughter came up to you, chewing on a muffin. "Do you think Tim would like some muffins?" she wanted to know, batting her lashes. 

Licking your lip, you knew exactly what she tried to do.  

But the amount of muffins you had baked, convinced you to say yes - right after her hopeful eyes. 

Nodding, you started to pack some muffins into a box. "I bet he'll like a few muffins." you agreed, smiling encouragingly down at her. She jumped in excitement, waiting for you to put the muffins into the box. 

"Do you want to give him the muffins?" you asked your daughter. She nodded, smiling brightly, as you handed her the box. 

Humming to herself she walked to the front door, slipping into her boots, as she patiently waited for you to follow. 

When you were both ready, you left the house, walking over to Tims. Ringing the doorbell, you waited for him. When he opened the door, Hailee was the first to speak.  

"Hi Tim, I have muffins for you!" 

His brows rose, mouth agape. Swallowing, he licked his lips, crouching down to get a better look at the box in Hailee's hands.  

You were surprised that he did so, after he was so hesitant towards her before.  

"We want to cheer you up!" Hailee told him, smiling brightly. Tims gaze wandered towards you, brow cocked in a silent question, but Hailee was faster than you. 

"Mommy said that you broke up with your girlfriend." she explained, causing his eyes to harden. Your mouth opened, but you kept silent. "When I'm said, I ask my mommy to have some sweets. So I thought, you could use some as well, so you wouldn't be sad anymore."  

He nodded slowly, biting on the inside of his lip. 

God damn it. Kids and their fast mouths. 

"Thank you, Hailee." he told her, smiling at her, as he took the box from her hands. Then he stood back up, gaze fixed on you. "Listen-" you started, but he cut you off. "Thanks for the muffins." he told you, before he went back inside his house, closing the door. 

"Mommy?" Hailee tried to gather your attention, tugging at your sleeve as your gaze was glued to the door. "Did I do something wrong?"  

Looking at your daughter, you knelt in front of her. "No, honey, you did nothing wrong." you told her, stroking her arms lovingly. "He just didn't know, that we know about him breaking up with Ashley."  

Her eyes went wide. "I'm so sorry!" she apologized, eyes watering. Hugging her, you stroked her back. "Don't be, precious. It's all fine." "Is he angry with me now?" she cried, causing your heart to ache.  

The last time she said these words, her father had yelled at her for letting a cup of water drop to the floor.  

It was the last time she had seen him. 

Sighing to yourself, you picked her up. One of the curtains moved, as you walked past them and back to your house.  

Did he see Hailee cry?  

Shaking your head, you stepped inside, closing the door, before setting Hailee down to remove her shoes.  

"Are you angry at me?"  

Your brows furrowed at her question, as you shook your head. "No!" you told her, brushing some hair out of her face. "I'm not angry at you, honey. You did nothing wrong. But, next time, I would be grateful if something like this stays between us, okay? I'm not angry, Hailee."  

She looked up at you with big, round eyes, sticking out her pinky towards you. "Pinky promise?" she asked and you nodded, as your pinky curled around hers. "Pinky promise." 

_____ 

A few days later, the box you had brought Tim sat on your porch, cleaned and emptied.  

Hailee was at the kindergarden, as you came home. Your work ended earliy, so you had some spare time until you had to pick her up. 

Taking the box, you wanted to open the door, as someone cleared their throat behind you. You flinched, instantly trying to shield yourself, as you turned around. 

It was Tim. 

Letting go of the breath you had held in, your heart hammered in your chest.  

"Hi." you said out of breath, as his brows furrowed in worry. "Are you okay?" he asked, licking his bottom lip. Nodding, you adjusted your bag, as it slid down your shoulder.  

"Everythings fine." you assured him, swallowing. "Just easy to startle, thats all." He nodded, before he cleared his throat. "Listen, I appreciate the muffins - I really do -, but my love life is something I'd like to keep private." he explained. "Yes, Ashley and I broke up, but thats my business, not yours." 

Your cheeks reddened, growing hot.  

"I'm sorry." you apologized, fumbling with the strap of your bag. "My daughter - she was just curious, she thought that you might have not been honest when I asked about Ashley. I know that its not my business, really. I just told her that you might not want to talk about it, and that she shouldn't worry about it. I didn't think much of it."  

He took a deep breath and you flinched again - you just couldn't help it.  

"Is really everything okay?" he asked. You knew it wasn't what he initially wanted to say. "Mhm." you made, biting your lip. He didn't seem convinced, but he didn't press further. 

"Its okay, I just wanted to make clear that its my business." he spoke instead, sending you a crooked smile that was surely meant to lighten the mood a little.  

Nodding, you agreed. "Yeah, I totally get that. Won't happen again." He nodded as well, a light smile gracing his lips. "Okay, thanks for the muffins again." he said, taking a few steps backwards. "They were great." With that he turned, walking to his truck. 

Only then did you notice the backpack resting on his back, indicating that he was off to work. You didn't know what he worked as, but it seemed to be in shifts. 

Getting inside, you breathed in deeply. 

He seemed reserved, but he was nice enough.  

_____ 

A week later, you and Hailee were at a BBQ hosted by one of your neighbors. You couldn't help but look out for Tim, waiting for him to appear.  

The atmosphere was nice, the people were all friendly and open. Hailee was playing with a few kids around her age, as you were sipping some coke.  

The food was almost ready and you slowly lost hope that he'd still come. 

The fire crackled, heating up, as it suddenly banged, something inside it most likely having caused a reaction. 

You flinched, shrinking together almost unnoticably, as you frantically looked for Hailee. Finding her, still playing chase with the other kids, you breathed a sigh of relief, slowly calming down. 

But, as one of your neighbors - Jeff - pushed another - Henry -, they started to fight. Walking over to Hailee, taking her by the hand, you made sure to be out of harms way, as the men punched at each other. 

When no one was able to stop them, Monica, the wife of Henry, called the police. 

It took them only a few minutes, in which Henry knocked Jeff out, to arrive. When they entered the garden, you couldn't believe, who it was. 

Tim. 

"Mommy!" Hailee whisper-yelled. "Its Tim!" You nodded, somehow flooded with relief. He was a cop. He was one of the safest neighbors you could have. 

Tim and the other officer, a young woman, took a few statements, as you others waited. When they were done, Hailee let go of your hand and before you could have stopped her, she was on her way towards Tim. 

You followed her, sighing. 

"Hi Tim!" she greeted him, smiling up at him. He blinked a few times in confusion, before he smiled, kneeling down in front of her. "Hey Hailee." he greeted her, before his eyes landed on you.  

"Hi, sorry for that." you apologized, blushing. "I couldn't stop her. I think she's excited that you're a cop." He smiled, huffing quietly. "Don't worry." he told you, as you greeted the other officer - officer Chen.  

"It was all fine, until that douchebag-" you cut yourself off, as you squinted your eyes. "Until Jeff pushed Henry." you corrected yourself, sending Hailee a warning look not to repeat what you accidentally said. 

"Don't worry, we have them under control now." officer Chen told you, smiling slightly at Hailee, who seemed far more excited to see a cop, than some others would have been. 

You nodded, thanking her, as Hailee started to ask Tim questions about the various things clipped to his belt. He chuckled at her curiosity, explaining what the things were. 

You huffed to yourself, a little confused.  

She seemed to have him wrapped around her little fingers, after all.

That would surely get interesting. 

_____ 

A few days had passed since the BBQ, leaving you to think more and more about Seargent Bradford.  

You had learned that he was a Sergeant, working for the LAPD. That explained the shifts.  

You were currently trying to fix a light that bothered you for quite some time now. Sometimes, it would work, sometimes not. 

Even though you were afraid of heights, you had climbed up the old ladder that you found in your basement, having your fingers crossed that it wouldn't shatter under your weight. 

Hailee was sat in the living room, playing with her dolls, as you tried to reach the lightbulb. Taking a shaky breath, you stretched a little further, as you suddenly slipped. 

Losing your balance you fell, your head hitting the ground rather hard. Your sight blurred, as you heard your daughter call out for you.  

She seemed to panic and you wanted to tell her that you would be alright, but you couldn't, as suddenly, the lights went out. 

"Tim!" Hailee called, crying as she frantically kocked on his door. "Tim!"  

The door opened, revealing Tim who looked down at the little girl with worry in his eyes, it only intensifying at her tear stained face. 

"Whats wrong?" he wanted to know, crouching down. "M-My mommy!" she called out, sobbing. "Its my mommy!"  

As fast as he could he picked her up, running towards the open front door of her house. Cursing at himself for not bringing his weapon, he slowly inched forward and into the living room, where her mother lay unconcious.  

"Fuck!" he breathed out, setting Hailee down and calling an ambulance, before he approached her mother. 

"Y/N?" you heard someone call out your name, luring you back into conciousness. "Y/N!"  

Your eyes slowly opened, trying to make sense of the blur you saw. "Hey, what happened?" the person who called out your name wanted to know. Its silhouette came into view and your eyes widened, as you sat up and inched backwards. 

"No, no, no, no!" you breathed out, as the person followed you, before your back hit the wall. "No!" you shouted, as he wanted to grab you, shielding your face with your hands. 

"Why are you here?" you wanted to know, as tears made their way out of your eyes. "You should be in jail, Robert!"  

He halted, you could sense it. "What?" he said, sounding confused. "Who's Robert?" He must have been messing with you, after all you were sure it was him you were seeing. 

"Go away!" you yelled, crying as your thoughts were with your daughter. "Where is Hailee?" "She's here, sitting on the couch." he told you, crouching down in front of you, as he carefully grabbed your hands, removing them from your face.  

"It's me, Tim." he explained, as your view slowly got clearer. "What?" you breathed, searching his face for any indication that it wasn't Tim. But you found none. 

"What happened?" you wanted to know, as you heard sirens. "Hailee came over, calling out for me." he explained, swallowing, as his gaze never left yours. "She said it's her mommy, so I grabbed her and went looking. You were unconscious. I assume you fell down the ladder?"  

Looking over at the ladder, you flinched. Your head exploded. 

"Don't move your head too much." he advised, as paramedics entered the room. "You might have a concussion." 

The paramedics asked what happened and Tim explained, saying that you were unconscious when he found you, that you had fallen off the ladder.  

They put you on a stretcher, securing your head and neck.  

"Wait," you told them, eyes widening. "What about my daughter?" The paramedics looked at each other, as Tim spoke up. "We'll drive after you to the hospital." he assured you. "Okay, thank you." 

He nodded, before you were brought to the ambulance. 

_____

Once you were checked, the doctor, Dr. Sierra, told you the results.

"You have a concussion, miss Y/L/N." she said, reading through the papers she held in hand. Tim and Hailee were at your side, your daughter sitting on your bed.

"We made a scan to see if you have other injuries and requested the data from the hospital in Ohio, which you used to visit rather often, as I see." the doctor continiued, and you swallowed.

Your cheeks got warmer, as she closed the chart.

"There were multiple traumata, broken bones and other injuries." she explained what you already knew. Glancing at Tim she sent you a silent question, but you shook your head.

"No, he's in jail." you explained quietly, fumbling with the bedsheet. The doctor nodded, seemingly relieved.

"You can go in the morning, if your condition stays good." she explained, before she bid you goodbye.

The room grew silent, the only noise being the bedsheets you fisted rather aggressively.

You sensed that Tim had questions; he wanted to know what happened and more importantly, why you were so scared of him at first.

Sighing, you contemplated where your daughter was supposed to stay the night. She couldn't sleep at the hospital, they wouldn't allow it.

Swallowing, you looked at Tim.

"Can I ask you something?" you wanted to know quietly, brushing through your daughters hair absentmindedly. "Sure." he gave back, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"You don't have to say yes of course..." you started, looking away for a split second. "But, can Hailee stay at your place tonight?" You prayed he would say yes, otherwise you didn't know where else she could stay at.

He nodded, as he bit his cheek.

"Of course." he said. "Where else should she go, when she could cuddle with Kojo?" He smiled, one that made your heart flutter despite the headache that was killing you.

"Thank you, Tim." you returned sincerely, smiling back through the pain. He nodded, before he brushed over his chin, thinking about something. You patiently waited for him, as Hailee played a game on your phone.

It wasn't the best way to keep her occupied, but right now it had to do, especially if it meant she was distracted enough to not listen to you two.

"I don't know what happened back then, but maybe you want to talk to me about it tomorrow?" he offered, sincerity in his eyes. "Or whenever you feel ready."

He was right. He deserved to know.

You nodded, flinching at the pain that shot through your head at the movement. He nodded in return, before he stood. "Hailee, what do you think about ice cream and nuggets?" he wanted to know, looking down at her.

She looked at you, unsure, but you smiled at her.

"Go with Tim, honey." you told her, hugging her. "He'll look after you tonight, whilst mommy stays at the hospital. You can trust him."

She nodded, kissing your cheek and you did the same. "I love you, buttercup." you told her, causing her to smile. "I love you too, mommy."

Tim picked her up, deciding to carry her to the car, as you handed him your keys.

"She's gonna sleep when you're at the car." you whispered, and he nodded, grinning. "I know." he mouthed back, before he said goodbye.

Your daughter waved over his shoulder at you, and you waved back, smiling at her.

_____

The next morning, Tim came with Hailee to pick you up.

Your daughter was excited, jumping into your arms after not having seen you for a couple hours. You hugged her tightly, making her giggle as you tickled her.

Tim smiled, he seemed to be in a good mood.

Not grumpy anymore.

The doctor had dismissed you earlier, right before Tim and Hailee arrived.

When you left the room, walking into the waiting area, you were greeted by two officers. "Sergeant Bradford." one of them greeted him, a man that seemed around his forties.

"Nolan." Tim returned, nodding at him, before he looked at the woman beside him. "Juarez." She nodded in return, greeting him as well, before her gaze landed on you and Hailee, eyes widening.

"Oh, is this your girlfriend?" she asked curiously, but still a little hesitant. Your mouth opened, eyes widening as well.

Why was it so hard for you to respond, suddenly?

Clearing his throat, Tim looked at you, before he looked back at officer Juarez. "No, but she's a friend." he told her. "What are you doing here?"

Officer Nolan seemed hesitant, before he answered Tims question. "We have arrested a robber, but he fell, and we just wanted to make sure, that he's okay, before we bring him in."

Tim nodded, but you were sure there was more behind the story.

He motioned towards the exit, and you nodded. "Was nice to meet you." you told the officers, before you followed Tim out of the hospital and towards his truck.

When you arrived home, you weren't sure how to thank Tim for looking after Hailee, whilst you were at the hospital. Should you invite him for dinner?

Getting out of the truck, you helped Hailee to get out as well. Your head still hurt a little, but it was already better than hours ago, thanks to the painkillers they gave you at the hospital.

"I have a few days off from work, so I can help you with a few things." Tim spoke up, when you and your daughter rounded the truck and came to a stop beside him.

Mouth agape, you looked at him in shock.

"You don't need to do that." you told him, still grateful, but he shook his head. "I want to. Your concussion isn't gone after a day, and you need to rest or otherwise it could get even worse."

Biting your lip, you nodded carefully.

"Thank you, Tim" you gave back. "I really mean it." He smiled slightly, walking towards your front door and you followed him with Hailee by your side.

"You can thank me by getting well."

_____

A few days had gone by, in which Tim had helped you with a few things. He played with Hailee, so you could take a nap or a bath, or would help to cook, so you wouldn't overstrain yourself.

He was different than before.

His grumpiness was all gone, replaced by a person as sweet as the muffins you and Hailee had baked together.

You weren't sure how he got to take these days off from work, but you were grateful for it. One time he was called to the station, because of an emergency that had occurred, but he came straight back afterwards.

You had gotten to learn a few things about him during the days you had spent together, about his past and the things he had seen in his life.

Deciding to make pizza, you made the dough with him helping you, kneading it with his big and strong hands.

Hailee had fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from playing with him. She only had fallen more for him during the last few days. She really liked him, and so did you, you had to admit.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tim asked, looking up from the dough.

You knew what he meant, still you had a lump in your throat at the thought of it. Biting your lip, you nodded. He deserved to know, if not for saving you, then for his help during the last couple days.

"I married rather young." you began, licking your lip, as you wiped your hands on a towel. "I was dumb and naive, not having seen the obvious warning signs that came with Robert."

He nodded, as his suspicions about the name you had called him, after you hit your head, were proved true.

"He was abusive." you continued, eyes watering as you bit your lip to stop the tears that threatened to spill. "Even when I was pregnant with Hailee he didn't stop. He took drugs, drank a lot. He used me as his very own punching bag, letting out his anger on me."

You breathed in deeply, leaning against the kitchen counter, as he continued to knead the dough, still listening.

"Half a year ago, he got arrested. He sold drugs, but the cops caught him. When he was finally gone, I made sure to get the divorce through as fast as possible, before we moved here. He'll be in jail for twelve years."

His brows furrowed, as he paused.

"For selling drugs?" he asked, confused. Shaking your head, you swallowed. "Homicide." you breathed, clearing your throat as your eyes filled with tears again. "After he got arrested, they found out that he had killed someone only a few days prior. He was able to make a deal."

He sighed, nodding as it made sense now.

"That's why you flinch, when there's loud noise or when someone gets too close." he concluded, setting the dough aside, wiping his hands clean on a towel.

You nodded, looking away for a split second, before you reminded yourself that you could trust him, looking back up.

"It's something I adapted after all these years with him."

You covered the dough up, so it could rise. It felt good, talking about it with him. Tim cleaned the countertop, before he put the cloth in the sink, drying his hands.

"Now you're safe." he told you, his eyes finding yours. "I promise. I'm gonna protect you and Hailee, as long as you let me." You nodded, cheeks heating up. You already felt safer than you had during the last years, all because of his presence.

“You have some flour on your cheek.” he told you, motioning towards it. You tried to remove it, but he shook his head. “Let me.” he mumbled, his thumb softly brushing over your cheek, removing the flour.

For the first time in years, you didn’t flinch at the contact. 

His thumb rested on your cheek, as his breath fanned over your face, causing your heart to race dangerously fast. Slowly, he leaned closer, your noses brushing as you did the same. 

Your lips softly made contact, his slowly moving against yours. You leaned more in his direction, deepening the kiss. His lips felt perfect, like they had been made to be kissed by yours.

His hands found their way to your hips, tugging you closer, as yours rested on his muscular chest. You knew that it was muscular, because you could feel it through the shirt he wore.

He softly guided your head back with his lips, deepening the kiss even more. His tongue brushed over your lip, asking for entrance.

You gladly granted it.

The kiss was soft, not demanding. His tongue brushed yours, fingers lightly digging into your hips.

Your hands went upwards, one finding his cheek, as the other stopped at his neck.

Only when you almost suffocated, did you break the kiss. It definitely was worth it.

He brushed a few strands of hair out of your face, his gaze finding yours. "What do you say," he started, hand resting on your cheek, sending a warmth through your body, that you hadn't felt in years. "if we go out for dinner?"

You smiled up at him, having a hard time to believe the luck you had. How could someone this perfect be interested in you?

"I'd love to go out for dinner with you, Tim." you told him, causing him to smile as well, before his lips connected with yours again.

It felt like he filled you with energy through his kisses. They caused something inside you to come alive again, only tearing apart as you suddenly heard your daughter behind you.

"Ew, mommy!"

[shoyudon]

O1O . . . NO, I'M BUSY

as soon as the call connected, gojo greets you with a cheery voice, "hi, y/n!" even when you couldn't see it, behind the screen of his laptop, he was waving his hand towards the camera.

"hey, gojo."

it was undeniable that he could notice how exhausted you are just from those two words — as if something had been keeping your tails in between your legs, "you okay? did you have a fight with your manager?"

"in a way, i guess. not a fight, just a small argument," you fessed up, sighing as you prepped your phone onto the phone holder that latched onto the windshield before leaning back onto the car seat, unbuckling your seatbelt, "i'm so tired of her constantly trying to make choices for me, you know?"

gojo grimaces, "is this about the series again?"

you hummed in acknowledgement, kicking your sandals off; pulling your legs onto the seat, "yeah. i'm supposed to be meeting up with ezekiel and the producer now, but honestly, i'm occupied right now with you and i didn't want to come in the first place. and can you believe it when i tell you that i didn't know about the meet up until two hours before? from ezekiel too."

"wait — you're supposed to be meeting up with them — but you're in a call with me instead? wouldn't that get you in trouble?" his voice was sputtered as if he was the one panicking on your behalf, "i don't want you to get in trouble with your company, shouldn't you be meeting them up?"

"i made plans with you first anyways."

gojo didn't know whether he should be feeling euphoric or concerned for your well-being, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie as he laid on his bed, eyes staring onto the screen; watching the call time on his screen ticking up every second, "where are you now then?"

your eyes averted towards the secluded parking lot of a grocery store near your apartment, "in a parking lot of a grocery store, i know my manager's either going to look for me or go to the meeting place. i don't want to risk getting caught, you know?"

"you shouldn't be out there for too long," he tells you, "'ts too dangerous."

"i'll be okay. i have pepper spray — thank you for worrying though," he chuckles, "what? what's so funny?"

"nothing, can't a man laugh without being asked what's so funny?" gojo retorts back, a tinge of sass lacing in his voice. at his statement, this time it was your turn to chuckle out softly, "what? what's so funny now, y/n?"

you rolled your eyes, "can't a woman laugh without being asked what's so funny?"

"that's my line, you know?" gojo sings out, "are you feeling better now? or was that chuckle just a fluke to make me think that you're feeling better since i can't see your face, hm?"

raising a brow at his accusation, you scoffed in mock offense, "just because i'm an actress doesn't mean i'll fool you with what i do. it was a hundred percent real, no joke. and yes, i'm feeling better thanks to you," the pad of your finger tapped onto the screen of your phone as it began to dim slightly.

"that's good to hear then," the male responds softly.

"so, gojo. tell me about yourself," you interjected — wanting to change the subject into something more lighthearted. knowing the both of you could only recognize each other by your names, and nothing else, "before you ask like what. anything, hobbies, things you like, favorite food, color, song, why you're my fan, or why you decided to make a fansite. anything you can possibly spill to me."

gojo grunted out, inhaling a big breath, "there's nothing much about me, really. my name is gojo satoru, i'm twenty-eight years old, i'm a high school teacher. to be frank, i don't know what my hobby is, i like watching movies and traveling. i hate people who use their power to do something bad to everyone else. my favorite food . . . oh, that's a hard one, i really like kikufuku, yeah . . . that's definitely the one. and favorite color is (favorite color), because you like it. i listen to anything that goes on my shuffle list," he exhales out softly.

it took no longer than twenty seconds for him to continue on, "why i'm your fan? the first time i saw you was on a poster of a skincare brand, i found you really attractive so i start looking up about you. honestly, i didn't expect that i'd be able to start a fansite when all i wanted to know was your name. i guess i started watching your series. the first series i watched was 'strawberries & cigarettes', you were the second female lead for the main male lead there; with your shoulder length hair and all. the series really stuck to me, and so i looked up series and movies that you have. i binged everything for like . . . a month, it's crazy," he ends with a light chuckle.

"i started the fansite during the earlier years of your career, and i felt that your name deserved more recognition, you know? and i'm glad it worked out the way i wanted to. i feel like a proud best friend," gojo tells you.

"that's really sweet of you, you know?" you answered him.

gojo scratched his nape in embarrassment, "that's enough about me, what about you? tell me more about yourself, things that the world doesn't know — things that the media doesn't know," he gushes out.

you pondered on his question for a bit, "what the media doesn't know . . ? i love eating, my company told the whole world i practically have no appetite. i have a large appetite, actually. i love movies and music, my favorite movie is (favorite movie), and my favorite song is (favorite song) — oh, i love (favorite actress / actor), they're my inspiration. what else, what else?"

"my favorite movie genre is (favorite movie genre), and my favorite color is (favorite color), my favorite flower is (favorite flower). i don't know what else to say, honestly. my favorite perfume smell is (favorite scent), and i love (favorite snack). i guess that's it?"

gojo nodded his head, taking note of everything you said. printing it into his mind, "gotcha!"

the phone call went on for at least the next three hours, and yet, none of you talked about this so called 'masterplan'. a lot of laughter and un-funny jokes were exchanged — and it felt lively even if the call consisted of just you and him.

"you know, y/n. it's almost twelve, shouldn't you be at home by now?" he whispers softly, worry etching into his tone.

looking around at the now empty parking lot, you chuckled, "you're right. i didn't even realize it was almost twelve," you chimed in, "thanks for keeping me company, gojo. we should do this again next time, to actually talk about the 'masterplan'."

gojo laughs out, "we should. i got sidetracked. but, thank you for keeping me company too, y/n. text me when you arrive back at home."

BEHIND THE SCENE !

you and gojo spent at least three hours getting to know each other, things the media doesn't know or what the company doesn't want you to say.

gojo actually remembered everything that you say.

TAGLIST !

@osakis-gf @catobsessedlady @jayathelostdragon @dazailover1900 @bebymylonely @starssfall @sassy-cat-in-town @fayeraa @sukunaspillow @executeher @lukabwrry @caileysdead @satxoru @misorastars @tenshiroko @myahfig4 @isometimeswritestuff @plutosgold @foxevxid @ofcqdesi @satoryaa @splzq @inupibaldspot @akio-ayashi @probablybethere @celestialzdiviner @ilykii @hotgirlshit5 @tbzzluvr @astraiahomura @nnasv @veraiism @asahiee @snwvie @n0tviv @luvvmae @alwaysinblck @luciledreamz @an-ever-angry-bi @kiwiikato @lemonnotade @kalulakunundrum @ichorstainedskin @r0ckst4rjk @lovelovelovey @jellinuy @svnkenlily @gojoful @quinnyundertow @jkovrl

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT

© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !

[psychesalcove]

„ WHEN YOURE ALL ALONE, ILL REACH FOR YOU (when you're fellin' low, i'll be there too)

↳ COLLEGE AU! JASON GRACE X GN! READER ”

requested: yes, from amandamariee

⚠️: reader is a bit of an overachiever, crying, being overwhelmed bc of school work, shitty ass writing (sorry gang) not proofread AT ALL

in which ; jason comforts reader who is overwhelmed by school work due to finals.

a/n: thank you so much for the request babes!! i hope this lives up to your expectations,, i loveee fluff and comfort fics so so much like it's actually scary 😔 ALSO i made the reader have a history major – just in case anyone was wondering :)

finals season was upon the students of new rome. cafes were filled to the brim with students, workbooks, and the sound of typing on laptops (that were specially made for demigods, of course).

you were one of the studnets who found themselves at the cafe more often than you would like to admit. earlier today you were at a popular cafe downtown with annabeth, but, around two hours into your study session, you wanted a change of scenery.

and that's how you found yourself back at the condo you and jason shared.

ᝰ

your wooden desk that you had gotten at ARC had every surface possible filled with studying items. old assignments, papers your professor handed out, your notes, and every color of highlighter imaginable.

your tea (which jason had made for you) was long forgotten on the edge of the desk, close to tipping over onto the carpeted floor of the bedroom. you had been in the same posion on your chair for about an hour and a half, eyes focused on reading an essay you had wrote a couple months ago.

jason would have already had you take a break by now, but he was downtown. you and jason were supposed to meet with the seven for dinner tonight, but you decided to stay home and study more. jason had insisted on staying with you, but with much persistence on your end, he was out the door and on his way downtown.

and of course, when you're studying for the most important test of this year, your dyslexia decided to act up. you had been stuck on the same sentence for about 5 minutes now. the words kept getting jumbled in your mind, floating from place to place on the page. the monster attacks you could deal with; but not being able to read a simple sentence?

you sighed heavily through your nose, setting down your pen onto the desk. this essay should be easy to read; you were the one who wrote it after all. your eyes shifted from the essay to the rest of your desk. you had no idea how you were going to manage getting all of the information you needed for the test in your head.

you reached for your laptop that was under a folder, because you decided that it might be easier to do work digital instead of on paper. you quickly logged into your laptop, and went to google classroom.

your eyes were drawn to the notification icon, seeing that there was one. you clicked it, mouse hovering over the writing that appeared on the screen: a comment from your professor.

y/n, i've seen you do amazing work in my class this year. what happened with this? i know you have more potential than what you wrote. i'll have to give you a D for this one, but it shouldn't affect your grade to much considering you have an A. it'll bring it down to an A- or a B at the most. i'll hope you gain your skill back in further work.

oh.

you quickly changed the screen onto where your grades were shown. there it was. a B. you knew that it wasn't a bad grade or anything, especially remembering when percy showed his grades to you once, but it still didn't sit right with you.

this was your best class, the one you always understood and got at least an 80 or higher on. you've never gotten a D.

tears quickly filled up your eyes, causing you to bink rapidly in an attempt to keep them at bay. you looked at the desk, in hopes of feeling better by now staring at the large B on your screen, but it only made it worse. all the papers and assignments quickly overwhelmed you, seeing how much you still had to do.

how will you even pass this test if you can't write a simple article about an artifact?

with that thought in your head, tears quickly started dripping down your face. a rational part of you told you that a small assignment like that didn't show your worth of the class, but the emotional part of you quickly overtook that thought.

as you sat there, posture rigid and tears freely falling down your face, you were to focused on your own being to register the sound of a door opening and footsteps going down the hall twords the bedroom you were in. you only got out of your head when you felt cold hands rubbing up and down your upper back.

"hey, love, what's wrong?" a voice, that you quickly recognized as jason's, said. you didn't know how to verbally respond, so you coughed hard and brought a hand up to your face to try to remove the tear stains from your face.

jasons hands moved from your back to go over your shoulders, hugging you from behind. "how about we get you into a bed first, hm?" he questioned gently, leaning awkwardly so his face was closer to your ear. after registering what he said, you nodded slightly as you made a move to stand up.

jason aided in getting you up, and then put a hand over your shoulder when the two of you started the short walk to the bed. he let you sit first, and then quickly followed in suit. he sat in front of you, letting you get a clear image of his blonde hair and concerned face.

he grabbed your hands and held onto them lightly, giving you the option to leave his grasp at any point. "love, try to copy my breathing, okay?" he instructed, making eye contact with you. he slowly took a deep breath in through his mouth, waiting for you to follow. once he saw the movement , he slowly exhaled through his nose, again, waiting for to follow his breathing pattern.

this continued until jason deemed you collected enough to talk about whatever made you upset. "want to tell me what got you so worked up, my love?" he asked again, softly smiling at you when you two made eye contact.

you quickly explained your situation in a shaken voice, still getting own crying. his eyebrows knitted in concern as he listen to you, and his thumb started slowly rubbing circles on your knuckles when he noticed your teary eyes.

once you finished speaking, he took you into his arms and held you gently. "how about you take a break. i'll make you tea, and you can eat if you want. then, we'll come back, and i'll help you with whatever you need help with. sound good?" he explained, already making a move to stand up with you.

ᝰ

the two of you quickly found yourself in the kitchen. jason had dimed the lights to emit a soft orange glow from above, and turned on the stove light as he filled the kettle up with water.

"you know, you're amazing at what you do, love." jason said, turning to you as he turned off the sink water after the kettle was filled up. "and, i know that you also know that, somewhere in there," he continued, brining up a finger and pointing at his head. you chucked softly, making jason get a small grin on his face from making you laugh, even if it was only little.

he walked over to the stove and placed the kettle on the stove, turning on the stove top, then moving over to where you sat on the counter. he gently wrapped his arms around your waist bringing you into a gentle embrace. "yknow you could have asked for my help earlier, i would have stayed with you, my love." he said as he rested his head on your shoulder.

"i know, but i wanted you to go out. i didn't want to keep up cooped up in here with me just because i didn't want to have dinner with them." you said as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, bringing you closer to him.

"i never feel 'cooped up' with you, love. and i wouldn't have minded not going, although leo and piper seemd very pressed about you not being there tonight. said they wanted to meet up with you tomorrow to 'add to their gossip'." he said, chuckling lightly at the thought of leo and piper.

you smiled softly as you thought about your friends, knowing how much they meant to you. just then, your stomach growled, notifying both you and jason that you were starving.

"how about we make you some toast? then we can go back and start on some flashcards for you, sound good?" jason asked, pulling away from the embrace and walking over to the pantry, signaling with his hands for you to follow.

[hanihazeljade]

Planning is Essential

Time Travel Tim

Tim time-travel back when he is seven years old. Way back before he 'died', before Bruce 'died', and before Jason Todd died.

He will make it right.

Tim woke up, with slight headache and he cannot pinpoint exactly how and why he got the headache. It can be because of endless nights without sleeping or it can be because he forgot his meds or it can also be one of his dearest "brothers" punched him. The reason is limitless and he can't really blame anyone at this point.

There was a knock on his door, "Timothy? Dinner is ready." A old woman's voice made him jerked his body. That voice is very familiar to him. It was the voice that he more often heard than his parent's, it was Mrs. Mac's voice, the housekeeper. But how could it be? Mrs. Mac was already resigned as the housekeeper after his father died. And that is when he finally looked around his surroundings. The barren white childhood bedroom of his is something that he rather forget and never wanted to revisited.

The room is far bigger than what he remember, but looking around and saw at his desk the unfinished homework he got and the black-screened laptop in his desk that shows his reflection. He was younger. This could be a de-aging case or even just a mind manipulation case. But he knows deep down it is not. He had travelled back in time. And it is fine, Bruce and the others will find him here, right?

Before he check anything more, he washed himself and go down, it will be a mess if he will be the cause of delay if his parents are here. He rather be clueless than to go through another rant of his parents on why you shouldn't waste anybody's time. The Drakes are nothing but a bunch of perfectionist narcissist and he is one of them, obviously. He doesn't have any prior information if his parents are here or not but better be safe than sorry.

The moment he got down the long winding staircase of his childhood house, he can see that his parent's weren't there and he sighed in relief. He love his parents but sometimes they can be too perfectionist, even for him that worked with the most perfectionist person (Batman), when it comes to time to time. After all, he can still felt the lingering warning touches of his mom and dad back when he was older.

He ate his dinner in silence and he went back to his room. Mrs. Mac already left and he was left alone once again in his huge house.

It felt nostalgic, the bad type of nostalgia. This is the room that made him who he was, who Timothy Jackson Drake was. The room that almost look like a psych ward and the eerie vibes it gave off. Timothy sighed, he needs to acquire how far he was taken back. It seems like he will pull an all-nighter for such a young age.

Pulling an all-nighter was normally was an usual thing for him. He feel like he was hit by a truck but nonetheless, he feels fine. But now? He was hit by a truck, got tossed to flames and having a speaker blasting to his head. Thank whatever the heck pulling through this Earth that today is Saturday, meaning no school and no Mrs. Mac, so therefore, he thought that he deserve to have some sleep because he is gonna collapse once he stand up in his bed.

After taking such a nice nap, a 6-hour nap, he look at his google doc of everything he knew. He is seven, at Bristol Grade School, taking a year ahead of his peers and way, way too young to know that Bruce Wayne is Batman and Dick Grayson is still Robin.

His parents are in Cyprus, digging the Enkomi and leaving behind black card that was name after him. His black card has a limit, he found that one out after his dad died and he has the access to their bank book. The limit was 500 grand. It was a big money for a seven-year old but it was one ways of his parent shows their love and care for him. He always used that black card for his necessities and some accessories to his skateboard and he never got any word from it, so he assume that it was fine as long as he is not splurging on dumb stuffs or illegal stuffs.

His parents are absent at best and negligent at worst, but he already live for years without them and he was just glad that they are still alive, and it was what daunt to him. His parents are gonna die and it was something inevitable. Because his parents would not heed to his request not to go to that specific dig and in the end they are still gonna die.

So, first, he need to make that Uncle Eddie will be more believable and wouldn't get the jig up after two weeks. Second, he needs to make a separate a bank account, which with his prior knowledge from back before, is easy. Third, he needs to do his homework because he was behind.

[danieyells]

One of the Vagastromers had eagerly come back with some fascinating winnings from Sinostra--some Frostheimer had bet their new car and lost. While the gambling was certainly to be gently chided over, the minor victory over Frostheim was of more value to the Vagastrom general students. There was, however, a small problem that the whole house couldn't figure out--the electronic key hadn't come with the car, and they couldn't turn it on in the first place.

Alan, after examining the vehicle, went to the only person he knew could help.

"Oooh, not a bad ride." Leo circled the car, dainty fingers running over the smooth, shiny exterior. "These things aren't even a year old. You really screwed that guy, I bet his daddy'd whip his ass if he were here."

He sat atop the car's hood, enjoying the eager eyes on him. "Yeah, I could crack one of these. Shouldn't be too hard."

He resisted the urge to wince as the bunch whooped and high fived with the secured victory. Always so loud at the littlest things. Alan gave him a nod and Sho sighed, going to fetch Leo's 'work' laptop for him.

A few hours(and a non-insignificant payment) later, and Leo handed the Vagastrom student's phone back to him. "There. Bluetooth car key. Make sure your phone's charged or no getting in the car without me."

The general student eagerly thanked him, promising to return the favor later despite already paying him, then turned to his friends as he opened the doors, telling them to get in for a ride. Another little chorus of cheers went through them and they made their way into the vehicle for a drive that hopefully wouldn't get the car confiscated by Darkwick.

"Good job." Alan grunted from where he'd been looming above Leo quietly, having finished maintenance on some of the vehicles in the garage shortly before. Leo predicted his next move, carefully catching his arm with both hands.

"Nope!!!" Leo yelped, tilting his head away to glare up at the Captain. Alan flinched a little, uncertain what was wrong. "Do not pat my head with those oily hands, Cap! We are not getting that shit in my hair today."

"Ah." Alan pulled his hand away to examine it. Although he's been wearing his gloves while working it was, in fact, blackened with motor oil and grime. Leo examined his own hands and clicked his tongue in irritation. He'd saved his hair, but not his skin. "Sorry."

"C'mere." Leo sighed, shutting his laptop with his elbow. He stood and shuffled and scooched it under his arm without using his hands, then grabbed Alan's large wrist and began to guide him to the stairs. Alan, having had gotten closer to Leo and Sho than he'd intended, was oddly becoming used to being led by the little influencer and followed him up the stairs.

When they reached Leo's door he paused and glanced at his hand again before grimacing. He reached over and wiped the oil on Alan's shirt(which hardly bothered Alan himself, as it was already somewhat oily) to the best of his ability before opening it and bringing Alan inside. He'd just wipe it down later.

Finally, Leo led him into his spacious bathroom and the broad vanity top, turning the hot water on high in the sink. Immediately he thrust Alan's hands under the flow of water.

"I know how to wash my own hands. . . ." Alan grumbled as Leo helped to spread the hot water over Alan's large hands with his small ones. "The water's too hot."

"Hot water gets oil off. Suck it up." Leo pulled Alan's hands from under the stream and grabbed the bar of soap he used for washing his hands before placing it into Alan's hands. He rubbed and lathered it into a frothy, sweet-selling lather all over his fingers. Leo grabbed the soap and rubbed it a over Alan's wrists and an inch or two further up before he could wash it off, then grabbed a small brush with hard bristles and furiously worked the dirt out from under Alan's nails. "Your nails are disgusting. I don't just mean from the dirt--why are they so chipped. And your cuticles--I'll be here all day if I keep this up."

Stopped himself from forcefully manicuring the nails of someone who wouldn't appreciate it, Leo shoved Alan's soapy hands back under the steaming hot water and let him rinse them clean. "Dry them with the blue striped towel. Don't touch anything else!"

While Alan dried his hands, Leo washed his own, grabbing a paper towel to dry them with and shut the water off. Alan resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck, sure he would somehow end up being made to wash his hands again if he did so. "Thanks. They're just gonna get dirty again, though."

Leo hummed in acknowledgement and watched Alan impatiently, arms crossed. Alan, confused, looked towards the exit behind Leo. Leo cleared his throat in exaggeration and glared up at him.

". . .What is it?"

"You can pat me now."

Alan blinked and took a moment to process this. "Ah. Got it."

Alan sat his large hand on top of Leo's head, and pat him a few times. Leo smiled, proud of himself, and lifted his head into it, even standing on his toes a little. He tilted his head so Alan's hand would land against his cheek, then grabbed his wrist to hold him still again, rubbing his face into Alan's freshly cleaned hands like a cat. Uncertain what to do, Alan held his hand still until Leo released him.

"Alright! I'm satisfied! Get out." Leo chirped with a smile, moving past him to fix his slightly disheveled hair.

"Oh. Alright." Alan dropped his arm back to his side and made his way out the bathroom and back to the main part of the garage. "Thanks for helping that guy."

"I made money off of it, he gets to ride his fancy car, some nobody in Frostheim lost, everyone was happy. It's whatever! Don't touch anything but the doorknob on your way out. I already have to clean the floor after your filthy boots were in here. . . ."

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

hey can you do prompt 22 for chad please? hope ur okay!🤍

‘’What are you doing?’’ ‘’Drawing stars around your scars.’’

I'm so happy someone picked one of my favorite lines from the list <3 Do you get the reference?

my taglists are here  + you can requests (currently closed) here at any time

—

You were sitting on Chad’s bed in your night clothes, waiting for your boyfriend to join you and watch a movie on his laptop. The end of semester rush was approaching and you wanted to spend as much time together before the beginning of the madness, hence why you were sleeping at his dorm tonight.

It was only your third time sleeping over, but your and Chad's relationship was fairly new. At least officially. You and him had been dancing around each other, flirting and sharing kisses at parties for months.

Although your feelings for each other were obvious, Chad was hesitant to take the relationship to the next level. He would constantly push you away when things would get too personal. Initially, you thought it was a commitment issue, but as you got to know him more, you came to the conclusion that maybe something had happened in his past and made him untrusty of people and reluctant to let anyone close.

Lucky for him, you were patient. And very much into him.

‘’You have practice early tomorrow morning. Are you sure this is okay?’’

Chad laughed fondly, moving around in the dorm. ‘’It’s only 8pm. We’re nowhere near my bedtime.’’

You played with the corner of his fuzzy blanket, not letting go. ‘’I just don’t want to disturb your routine by keeping you awake for longer than you should. I’d feel so bad if you were tired tomorrow because of me.’’

Shaking his head, Chad walked over to you, dropping a kiss to your lips. ‘’There’s two hours before I need to go to bed. That’s plenty of time.’’ He went over to the nightstand and plugged his phone. ‘’Besides, I’m probably gonna fall asleep during the movie,’’ he confessed, feeling the weight of his day.

Then, he fell on the twin-sized bed beside you without a care, causing the bedframe and mattress to squeak under his weight. College furnitures are not the strongest.

‘’What movie did you pick?’’ Chad reached for the laptop, the movement causing his shorts to ride up his thigh, exposing a part of his past.

‘’What’s that?’’ you asked with furrowed eyebrows, seeing a pinkish scar on the inside of his right thigh.

You weren’t particularly looking there. It just caught your eye.

The light mood shifted as Chad tensed, visibly uncomfortable at the mention of his scar. He quickly pulled the covers over his legs, hiding them from your view.

‘’I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked,’’ you apologized, genuinely feeling bad for bringing it up.

You should have known not to ask about the scar. People rarely want to talk about them as they are most of the time related to something you would like to forget.

Before the Woodsboro attacks, Chad was confident about his body. He liked to show off his toned chest and strong biceps on every given occasion. But now that seven scars decorated it, he preferred to cover it — either with a shirt or makeup he had stolen from Mindy.

He was tempted to lie and say he got it when he was little, but the truth was too big and important to be covered by a fake childhood story.

Chad drew a breath, about to reveal something that would stun you. ‘’Have you heard of the masked killer murders last year in Woodsboro?’’

You nodded, having seen some articles online about it.

‘’I…I was one of the victims. The doctors said it was a miracle I survived my injuries.’’

‘’Injuries? As in plural?’’

He nodded in turn. ‘’There's more on my stomach.''

You furrowed your eyebrows, not remembering seeing any scars there.

Chad read your expression and reached for the back of his collar to pull his shirt off.

Your eyes fell to his collarbones and pecs, then his stomach, which was indeed mauled with six pinkish scars. They were healed, but the raised texture indicated that they weren't that old. You gently brushed your finger over the lines.

‘’Do they still hurt?’’ you asked, flicking your gaze up.

Much to Chad’s relief, there was zero ounce of pity in them.

‘’No. But sometimes I have dreams about that night and I can feel the knife stabbing me…’’

The dark confession made your heart ache.

You got up and went to your backpack where all your overnight stuff was, leaving a confused Chad behind. You grabbed an eyeliner pencil from your makeup bag and returned to the bed.

‘’Lay down.’’

Chad’s frown deepened, but he did as told. ‘’What are you doing?’’

You brought the pencil to his dark skin and began doodling. ‘’Drawing stars around your scars.’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog 

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101​ @vxnity713

[octuscle]

I work as a janitor at a local hospital and I'm tired of all the snobby attitudes around here. There's this new young doctor who everyone keeps fawning over and I totally get why. Young, smart, incredibly attractive- I'm sure you get the picture. But the other day I heard him talking about the janitorial staff and saying stuff like "this is why I did well in school." Earlier when he was helping perform a surgery, I nabbed his laptop and input some changes to bring him down a few levels and give him a new appreciation for the janitors here. I'd love to see his face tonight when he starts slowly changing.

You can't help being born with a golden spoon in your mouth. No one can help being handsome and intelligent. But the question is always what you do with it. Or if you are suddenly no longer born with a golden spoon in your mouth. And not quite as intelligent. But beautiful in a different way.

When Shawn walks to the parking lot after a hard day in the OR, something is different… Where his brand-new model should be, among all the flashy Porsches, there's a 911 that's about ten years old. The leather seats are a little worn. But didn't his parents just give him a new one for Christmas? Shit, maybe it was just too much work today. Maybe he shouldn't go out for a fancy dinner with the others tonight. Just go to bed early instead.

Normally, Shwan would have had to chase his sports car, engine howling, toward downtown. Into the underground garage beneath his apartment building. The apartment his parents gave him. But as if in a trance, he drives toward the high-rise housing complex on the outskirts of the city. Fatima's hand dangles from the rearview mirror. Arabic music plays on the radio.

Shawn curses the idiots who can't park. He spends more than half an hour looking for a place to park his beat-up old van. If all the Sunday drivers had parked properly, there would have been five or six spaces available. Idiots! The leftovers he took from the hospital cafeteria have long since gone cold, of course. He takes the bags and carries them up to the apartment on the sixth floor. Of course, the elevator doesn't work again. That's a bit of his own fault. After working at the hospital, he is the janitor here in the apartment complex. He puts the food on the kitchen table. His parents and younger siblings eat it greedily. They don't care that it's pork. Shawn doesn't tell them either. It's pointless anyway. Before collapsing on the bed, exhausted, he grabs the toolbox again and goes to the elevator machine room.

Yahya never planned to be the breadwinner for his family. But after fleeing Syria, he was the only one who spoke English. How he would have loved to finish his mechanical engineering degree, which he had almost completed. But earning money was a higher priority. And the hospital job wasn't bad. It paid well. He might even be able to continue his studies. He worked hard for two things: his body, which he was proud of. And for his career. It was easy to stay rich if you were born rich. Yahya wanted to be rich because he was born poor.

[julieverne]

There's someone I don't talk to anymore, and I remember a lot of good things about them and the night we decided to make Turkish Delight by making our own rose water with the rose petals we snuck out and plucked from the plants at the university and the whole night was this adventure and the delight never quite set and it was sticky as hell but it was also delicious and we ate it like that after dodging security guards in the dark, just scooping wet rose goo dusted in icing sugar from a single plate with our fingers curled up together watching British television on the couch and laughing

And finding batteries in my bed or my pants

And trawling musty bookstores with the kind of wondering delight that comes with finding an old favourite in the stacks and carefully removing it Jenga style to recommend it

And hundreds of stories. Over ten years of stories. Entwined lives.

And she's not really in my life anymore, and that was a choice I made at a really low point in my life but I don't regret it because we weren't the same people we were when we met, and I don't think we could ever be friends again

She said she knew what I was going through (when I was facing homophobic slurs and discrimination at work) because she works with 'a lot of gay men' so she knows what it's like to be a minority.

She told me I shouldn't want to be trans because it's too hard.

She made Turkish coffee and a webpage for me

She cried because she couldn't figure out my ratcheting screwdriver when I helped her move out

And I think no one is ever just good or bad, or even the representation someone else gives of them, or the representation they give of themselves. The version of her that lives in my memory doesn't exist anymore, and she likely doesn't remember these, she likely remembers me being cranky because I was always in pain. She probably remembers me being upset about being the one to drive everywhere because changing gears was physically painful. She probably remembers me after my ex's overdose, or when I called her crying in the middle of the night because I couldn't live with feeling so badly about being gay.

I don't know who I am in her memory, and I don't really care.

Sometimes I miss the sticky-fingered Turkish Delight nights. I miss mornings on the balcony drinking tea with a book and a laptop and quiet conversation.

I bought rose water. It sits on the shelf.

It reminds me that I used to be a better person.

[nonclassyparty]

OHHH LIKE A SNIPPET OR BONUS PART OR SOMETHING I WANT TO IF YOU WANT TO PLEASE COULD NEVER SAY NO TO YOUR WRITING

here, i have this 😭 it was supposed to be a bonus chapter from san's pov after chapter 9 but u can have it since i probably won't finish writing it

From: choisan.outlook.com (May 24th; 23:56 p.m.)

To: park_yn.hotmail.com

I got your letter...

This is an old e-mail address that I found in my inbox, you sent me a question about your Computer Science assignment but I never opened it...I'm sorry about that. The assignment is kind of hard by the way so if you felt bad that you were struggling with it, you shouldn't have.

I don't even know if you still fucking use this e-mail but your phone number isn't working or maybe you blocked me or something...

I hope Paris is good to you. I don't know what you're doing there, you didn't mention in the letter...

From: choisan.outlook.com (June 6th; 01:34 a.m.)

To: park_yn.hotmail.com

It's kind of shitty that I've known you for so long yet I know so little about you.

Which is definitely not your fault, I know you were trying. It's always me, isn't it?

I have a habit of not letting people I'm involved with get close to me because it gives them leverage and a weapon to hurt me. Although I did tell you things about myself that I only told Yeosang before.

You told me stuff as well but I kind of fucked up by sharing it with others, didn't I? I don't why I did that, I'm usually very good at keeping secrets but...I don't know. I'm sorry.

Thank you for keeping my secrets safe though, you're a much better person than me Y/N.

But really, I don't know almost anything about you. I keep trying to think of a reason why you left for Paris, I keep trying to remember if you ever mentioned anything about it before but everything is foggy.

I think it has to do with your art, right?

You're not reading these I'm sure so I'll keep writing to you. Don't know why, I guess I need someone to talk to.

Yeosang went home for the summer. He said he'll leave the frat next year and won't live with Yunho and I anymore, he'll move off campus. He said it to Yunho though, he's not talking to me.

If you went to Paris for your art then I'm really glad. You were always very talented. 

I'm sorry I never said that to you before.

From: choisan.outlook.com (July 13th; 03:49 a.m.)

To: park_yn.hotmail.com

I was cleaning out my laptop and phone today because I got a part-time job and need extra space on both devices for all the projects and files and I found a photo of you, Yunho and I.

I don't know where I'm going with this...I just

You're very beautiful. I think you might be the most beautiful girl I've been with.

And I'm not saying it because I'm trying to be slick or suck up to you or anything, you're not even reading these so there's no point in me lying. It's just something I've been thinking about.

You know how people always say that their significant others are the most attractive people they met? That's bullshit.

There's always going to be someone better looking. It's a shallow way of thinking, I know, because I'm aware that when they say that shit they count in their personality and everything that person has done for them. It all adds points to their beauty.

But realistically speaking, they don't consider just their looks when they call them the most beautiful.

I told Boyoung she was the most beautiful person I've seen and she's pretty but I also said it because she's very soft spoken and smart and she has these little habits and interests that add to her beauty. All the quirks and flaws, beauty marks and personality traits that I loved. I meant all of that.

I don't know any of your quirks or weird habits, I know you like to wear skirts and that you like the color pink and pop music and that you paint.

But you're the most beautiful girl I've seen and this is purely a compliment I swear. I feel like I never told you that I thought you were pretty.

Not that you need me to tell you that you're pretty to feel pretty. I know you know that you're good looking.

Fuck I feel like this e-mail is so shallow I don't know why I'm still typing

I just wanted to tell you I guess that you're, objectively, very beautiful.

From: choisan.outlook.com (August 24th; 23:13 p.m.)

To: park_yn.hotmail.com

Classes started again!

I'm so busy with school and classes I fall asleep before midnight nowadays.

Yunho and I still live together but we got a new roommate. He's a freshman named Taeyoung. 

I thought it would be annoying rooming with a freshman since both Yunho and I are taking a master's degree and shouldn't they have some kind of dorm system where they place freshmen together?

Apparently they do but there was some kind of mistake and now we're stuck with him. We feel like we're babysitting him half of the time. The kid is still a virgin.

But he's kinda cute. Feels like I have a younger brother to check up on once in awhile. And it's like fucking adorable how his mom sends us food as well every time he comes back from home.

He's like a little baby chick.

I miss Yeosang.

I still haven't told what happened between us to a single soul, only Yunho knows and that's because he was there.

You know, Yeosang was the first friend I made when I started college. We meet Yunho about half a year after that I think.

I know you and Yeosang never got along but he's a good guy I swear. I told him that you told him to go fuck himself by the way. 

I knew he was in love with me, okay? I knew.

I knew since we started our second year and I didn't know what I should've done about that so I just pretended not to know because I didn't want to make shit awkward or ruin our friendship. 

I sometimes used it. His feelings for me. He always said yes to everything as long as I asked and he always picked my side in every argument between the three of us.

It's not like I ever manipulated him into agreeing to something dangerous, it was mostly to have the place cleared out when I want to bring a girl over or get him to drive me to or pick me up from a party.

And it was shitty of me. I know i know i know i know i know

I'm a bad person and a shitty friend and I don't blame him for not wanting anything to do with me anymore. And I feel so sorry. I feel so fucking sorry but none of it can fix this. I fucked up.

But I miss him.

We had a fight a couple of days after you left. I don't know how it started but I know he was pissed at me for mentioning the stuff you told me in private to them (see he's a good guy. much better than me) and he was snippy and rude in the upcoming days until finally, a fight broke out in our living room.

I said some shit, he said some shit while Yunho was trying to mediate between us. 

I was angry and frustrated and he was being an asshole and you know that Yeosang can be quite an asshole, so I might've let it slip that I knew about his feelings and then he got hurt and said something that hurt me in response.

'You know, I'm glad Y/N left. She finally realized that you aren't worth the pain it takes to love you.'

That's what he said. 

It hurt like a bitch, I cried after he left (and I can say that here because I know you won't tell anyone but if in some case you DO read these, I'll deny every word).

I don't think I'll ever be able to forget those words for as long as I'm alive.

From: choisan.outlook.com (September 21st, 21:16 p.m.)

To: park_yn.hotmail.com

I went to the fall festival today and saw those pink velvet scrunchies for sale on one of the stalls that reminded me of you. It was weird. 

Everything pink reminds me of you.

From: choisan.outlook.com (October 30th, 04:25 a.m.)

To: park_yn.hotmail.com

When you said you hoped I knew how much you hate me in the letter...did you mean that?

I get it. I really really fucking do. Everyone ends up hating me sooner than later. Or resenting me.

I don't know which one is worse.

From: choisan.outlook.com (November 15th, 03:45 a.m.)

To: park_yn.hotmail.com

Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N

Park Y/N

I never could've loved you the way you wanted me to.

I feel like it would've been nice if i did fall in love with you so everything  that happened could've been for something but it was just pointless wasn't it? Useless.

Truth is, I have no fucking clue what love is. 

I've never seen an actual example of it in real life.

I don't even know if what I had with Boyoung was love...was it? See, I'm asking you because I have no idea.

My parents didn't love each other, all they do is argue and hate each other and I can't tell you how many times I've cried when I was a kid wishing they'd just get a fucking divorce so I wouldn't have to hear everything my father called my mother

I love my mom. See, that I know. I love my mom. I would die for her. She's the only reason why I have some shred of ...anything in me even though it's not love. Everything I do in college, my exams, part-time jobs, I do for her but I fear that will never be enough to repay her for everything she has done to me.

You know she was the only person who ever told me it was okay to cry.

My dad hated when I cried, even when I was a kid, he hated it. He always told me men don't cry.

But I wasn't a man, I was just a little boy who fell down from his bike and wanted someone to comfort him and kiss the wounds away. My dad never did, only ever told me to get up.

My mom always told me it was okay to cry years after that. She said it was okay.

I still never cried but it was nice to hear someone say it.

My dad on the other hand... I fucking hate him.

I know it's a bad thing to say but I do. I hate him and he hates me as well.

He told me once how I ruined his life and it didn't make me cry.

I don't fucking know why I'm typing this. Well I actually do. My dad called today.

He doesn't call often but when he does it ruins my entire week.

He only cares about my grades, if I'm passing my exams and is just repeating 'hurry it up with this degree shit and get a job already'.

Like I can hurry the semester up literally what the fuck. I don't even ask them for money. I never did. not once since I started college but he looks at me as if I'm an investment and not his son

I hate him so much I hate i hate i hate i hate him.

[gildedmuse]

If anyone is wondering why I haven't updated, there are a number of reasons. However, a major one is that Crunchyroll will no longer allow you to use old versions of the app. What this means is I am no longer able to take screenshots of record small scenes so I can transcribe them or basically do most of what I do here.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with this blog, I am a broke ass bitch with a chronic, genetic kidney diseases I had the pleasure of being born with, which severely limits me in a number of ways. One such way is money: medical bills at expensive and even with insurance I owe something like $1,462.78 and that's just the past year. Nevermind the bills I collected from other hospitals/doctors. The result is I live a pretty simply life, including the fact that I don't own any sort of fancy recording equipment like "a pc". Every screenshot, every gif, every artistic and not so artistic edit, every video recording, every single post and fanfic and reply, that is all done from my phone. It's my one and only portal to the Internet and sole tool to do whatever is is I do.

With that in mind, while I am proud I managed to take my degree in English Literary Theory and learn how to do all of that on an older model Android I've had for a few years now, I also know that then bulk of internet denizens are just WAY more skilled/knowledge at this then I will ever be.

Keep in mind, I have no money (so advice along the lines of "just buy this $99 program, it's so easy!" or "why not just get a cheap laptop, you can get one for under $600 EASY these days" or even "you just need a monthly subscription to this OTHER streaming site, that doesn't have a film blocker" just doesn't help, especially since I don't even have my own subscription to CR so there is no just dropping that to pay for another.) I was hoping someone out there knew a method I could use to record the "latest" episodes.

I say latest but I left off at 1078. I know, I'm ages behind, but there is a good reason for it.

Please, anyone who knows how I can take screencaps (recordings would be useful but not required) PLEASE contact me and let me in on your secret.

I won't tattle, I swear. I just want to be able to watch the show and react about it on this blog since, sadly, I've recently lost all my OP watching buddies to various life circumstances.

Failing that, I need someone to agree to watch every single episode along with me as my "recorder", recording long swatches of each episode and then sending to me when we're done so I can get my screencaps and gifs and the likes. The good news? You'd have someone eternally thankful for your contributions, who would credit you in every post, and I wouldn't even use any jokes/observations/thoughts you might share while we watch without permission. And.... errrr. Did I mention the gratitude? Shit, that's really all I have.

But I have so much of it!

Guys, I hate getting all emotional, but I am having a hell of a year between the dogs, the bad diagnosis and, hey, this is currently my face:

For comparison, when I'm not dying:

Just any help or even attempts at advice would be welcomed. I know it's stupid, but a lot of what I personally get from reading/watching/playing things is in sharing it with others. I shouldn't have to explain that, it's part of why places like Tumblr and AO3 EXIST.

Feel free to reach out in a reblog, comment, tag me, DM, message me on discord (gildedmuse). Whatever is easiest. And thank you, so, SO much for any potential advice or help you can offer.

[noro-noro-noro]

i felt top of the world on friday morning & now i'm down again. what's going on in there. the blood? thinking about having to fix my laptop keyboard AND get new tires on my car? what's the deal. stop.

further analysis containe

upon further analysis: - worried abt my laptop in case this keyboard issue isn't repairable. i'd hate to have to replace it before it's even 2 years old. solution is just that i can google this.

- not really worrieD about my car tires. it's just something i'll have to do. either this month or next month. it shouldn't take long - it'll just be expensive. a full set of ocntinentals is $800, but they've got a rebate on rn. Do i even want continentals? what kind do i have now? i can call and ask about it if i'm still worrieD.

- the main source of worry is the job my friend recommended me for. i don't want it bc i'm afraid of change. but i can't keep working at this job without health insurance or PTO for wages about 10k lower than the starting salary i hoped for in college. my sister makes 20k more a year than me at her current job. and i'm worried that i won't get it & my frienD will look like an idiot for recommending a moron with a bad portfolio. but i won't work on my portfolio because i'm scared. & i'm worrieD about letting down everyonoe at the university, though that's secondary. they'll understand. i cant even get a B lot parking pass as a temp. i can't live my whole life like this.

[charliespringverse]

iwbft — tuesday: a brief summary of my annotations

all highlighted quotes: 136

· ouch/ow/owie: 12

· real/felt/relatable/so true: 5

· aroace: 2

· ☹/☹☹/☹☹☹: 9

Rowan is on his front, one arm slung over Jimmy's chest. Jimmy's head is tilted ever so slightly towards Rowan. — i've woken up like this with at least half my friends

The shipping itself isn't a major inconvenience to any of us. If anything, it keeps the fans interested. They think Judgement Day will eventually come and there'll be a big reveal that Rowan and I are secretly in love. There won't. We're not. — @larry shippers in the year of our lord 2023

It's always sort of been Rowan and Jimmy, plus Lister. We still love him of course. But that's just the way it is. — PAIN (note: this is all caps, huge, and triple underlined)

'I talk about The Ark all the time. I don't know why this was a surprise.' 'Fereshteh, it was a little bit of a surprise to me too.' 'Why?' 'I suppose... I suppose I never thought you actually cared about this band that much.' — parents vs actually listening to and validating their interests (failed, always)

Juliet chuckles weakly and looks away. I know she's had some bust-ups with her parents in the past. — understatement of the millennium

I'm an optimist. I like to believe that love exists. — it Does it just isn't always romantic/sexual. but it exists So Much

'I feel bad... feeling so happy when they're probably upset,' — ur so close to getting it queen

'Can't we just go home?' Lister mumbles. 'No,' she says. — foreshadowing innit

Rowan and I follow him immediately, like there's a string attaching us — ... invisible string addition to the folklore trilogy?

Lister tells us to go away, but Rowan just walks up to him and starts rubbing his back as he throws up. — ♡ listerowan bestieism

There's a big window on one side of the bathroom. Big enough to climb out, probably. We're on the ground floor. We could just climb out and run. Get up and go. — FORESHADOWING INNIT

Being trans has been a pretty you can big part of my life so far, thanks, but that shouldn't be particularly relevant here, in an interview about our music. — u can Never escape other ppl's obsession w ur transness

Dave laughs and says again, 'Now that's honesty.' — FUCK YOU DAVE (note: this is all caps, huge, and quadruple underlined)

I ask God to give me a bit of extra patience. Because every time Mac speaks, I sort of want to put an entire bag of cotton wool in his mouth. — what God is for x

Being a male fan of obscure old bands is, for some reason, more acceptable than being a female fan of a twenty-first-century boy band. — (also the obscure old bands are rarely that obscure. they're one direction for old white men)

They know exactly who they are. They put it in their blog about' page, they put it in their Twitter bio. I never know what to put in my Twitter bio so I usually just put an Ark lyric in there. — and when u enter ur confident aro-ace era? what then?

I like to think God does have a plan for everyone. But I also think there's too much shit in the world for all these plans to be perfect ones. Or maybe God doesn't have time to write a plan for everyone. And some of us are just trying our best and getting it a bit wrong. — i think this is why faith doesnt work for me

Everything's still there, though. My journals, my guitar, my main laptop, my childhood teddy bear, and the knife that Grandad gave me when I was sixteen. — now i want to know what he would admit to in one of them essentials interviews

It'd be useless as an actual weapon, since it's completely blunt - you can run your finger along the edge and not even get a scratch. — hhhh foreshadowing innit ☹

Not that he particularly goes seeking it. Everyone just wants to be friends with Lister Bird. — and yet he cares most abt getting closer to the two he shouldn't have to try for ☹

David [Tennant] thought she wanted a selfie, when in fact she was just trying to find the nearest toilet. — iconic

'Now, there'd better be some fucking Capri-Suns somewhere around here.' — me @ every function

When they were together they both seemed to stop worrying about everything else in their lives - Rowan was no longer an overworked band boy and Bliss was no longer a struggling student. They were just together. — ☹ justice for laimondi

Then he leans in and presses his lips against mine. Oh. Okay. Fine. This is fine. Can't say I realised this conversa- tion was going in this direction, but fine. — BAD (note: this is all caps, huge, and double underlined)

'But we're gods, Jimmy. What's better than that?' — pain. suffering. agony. heartache. torture, torment, anguish.

Holding it makes me feel real. It reminds me that I was born. That my life is something other than this birdcage I'm trapped in. Isn't it? Isn't it? — has his therapist ever discussed depersonalisation with him?

[kittytiddycommittee]

hi, can you berate me for annoying you about your integrated graphics card too many times? it's for kink purposes i swear, and totally not because i am seeking more human interaction

ahem

so many good games on the market... too bad you cannot play most of them because of your 2008 financial crisis ass computer.

Bite my ass, junior. It's a laptop and not even 5 years old. I have no reason to invest in a whole-ass desktop just because an indie studio doesn't know how to optimize their own game. I'm not asking it to run the new Red Bread Exemption. I don't need to see every wrinkle on the horse's ballsack. Forgive me for thinking that I shouldn't have to lower the render distance to nothing for your game with 360-era graphics just because you chose to have 20 different kinds of mayonnaise. Bitches have me running it in Windows 7 compatibility mode like I'm goddamn Tutankhamun. And sure, maybe it has sexy mermaids, but that's no excuse for making a relatively new computer wheeze like a chess club kid on prom night. "At least it doesn't have DRM" yeah fuck you, guy from the forums. All that does is save me from having to enter a church ever again because I need a priest to exercise all of Epic's bullshit off my computer. And fuck you to the studio for releasing an incomplete game. If you still have shit in beta and it's running like hot garbage for anyone who doesn't want to spend a car payment on a separate graphics card then maybe it's not emotionally ready for an official release. A special thank you to Unreal for letting me down yet again. I have had it with your nonsense.

[titoist]

childhood memories

the librarian reads us a story about how you shouldn't feed a bear because it will come back & expect more food. i find it fairly upsetting. i want to be kind to animals. i feel sort of intensely personally upset with the librarian

i discover cracked.com & open dozens upon dozens of tabs, reading the junk food voraciously. once i see a scary picture on one & have to huddle in the corner of the couch for hours staring at the hallway so i know it's not coming out of the hallway until someone gets home. hours crying

when i'm home alone, i am always so deeply powerfully intensely petrified by the idea of going past my room. there's too many doorways. i'm afraid of mirrors. i'm petrified by the mental image of a ghoulish woman sprinting out of a doorway, towards me, screaming

i go on omegle when i'm about nine & use manycam to show people a picture of a mutilated penis. i'm sorry

i go on omegle when i'm about ten & meet someone who claims to be a girl named jade. to make a long story short, it turns into this weird... knifeplay, rape, forced sex change, roleplay, thing. where if you read the chatlog i am very obviously using the mannerisms & emoticons of a ten year old & "jade" seems unconcerned by this. i saw, said, & did a lot of gross things on the internet but this seems to come back to my memory the most often, like it's emblematic of the rest i save the chatlog. some time later, days? weeks? months? years? i don't know. i walk into the living room & glance at the laptop on the counter connecting it with the kitchen. my father has somehow discovered the chatlog & is reading through it. i don't react or say anything. i don't know how much he reads. he never says or does anything

my father is friends with a happy married couple who live in a big house. one day while visiting them i ask the husband if he wants to see something frickin' messed up!!! he watches me play happy wheels for awhile out of obligation. he just keeps going "… hhhhuh."

in second or third grade, a girl - i don't remember her name, retainers & glasses, blonde - has a crush on me. i never hear this from her personally, but she was bad at concealing her mannerisms. & after awhile, i was openly solicited by the other kids in my grade to help them torture & mock her about it. the way i understand it, she was deserving of ostracization for having a crush on an overweight child, while i had skirted by on account of never being seen as part of the ingroup in the first place. the mocking would have no stakes.

my mother works for a theatre company. this means she has to go up the stairs in that concrete behemoth & beyond the byzantine hallways to practice her roles in productions for hours at a time. she takes me along, & doesn't restrict me to the lobby or supervise me. this means i have the fantastic opportunity to run around various storage room with miscellaneous props, CDs, &, by god, puppets, for hours on end, unrestrained. i spend a lot of time there, alone, & i think it is the contributing factor in me developing a low-intensity interest in puppetry later on in life. once i start talking with one of her colleagues & spend a while parroting nationalist conspiracy theories from my father. my mother comes over eventually & he tells her i'm one of the most articulate & perceptive children he's ever met. it's absurd. i know this is absurd

once, in fifth grade english class, our teacher has us write all sorts of verbs on the whiteboard, trying to guess what a character in a story is about to do. someone intends to write "wrapped," but writes "raped." i watch the teacher notice this & quietly fix it. i saw, i knew

in my bedroom one night i realize a bunch of existential dread stuff for the first time & cry hysterically

early in fifth grade, i miss my bus stop. i tell the driver i missed my stop. an older girl comes up from the back of the bus & starts heavily involving herself in the situation really unnecessarily. then she takes a brief look at me & concludes that i'm autistic. she says her brother is autistic, so she can recognize it. she talks to me like a dumb puppy dog. i get home & tell my mother about this, then go "i'm not autistic!" while going into my room & crying

when i was around seven (?) years old, i went & looked at my birthday on wikipedia. later, i believe my father & i were talking about stuff that had happened on our birthdays in various years, & i clearly remember going up to him & saying, "Gerard died on my birthday" Gerard was a medieval Count of Auvergne who married one of the daughters of Louis the Pious, who was himself son of Charlemagne & Co-Emperor of the HRE. i expected my father to know who i was talking about because at that age i had no grasp of what bodies of knowledge i could expect to be commonplace among people. i figured that maybe everyone knew whatever was on wikipedia, generally.

[watercolor-hearts]

[Tw: homophobia and transphobia by a university teacher. Mentions of violence.]

What the fuck has just happened?! What the fuck?! I'm really really disappointed. Homophobia and transphobia at it's finest by a teacher of mine I really liked until this point.

At some point when I left the building to go back to the other one for my laptop charger he came with me and asked whether the two girls who always hang out together were lesbians. I didn't know who he was talking about so I said "I don't know" and left.

Later, towards the end of the lesson I asked how to do the gold/silver print for the die cut template of the packaging we're making and somehow while he showed me and some other students old works with examples lesbians came into the picture and he said he's had lesbian students (disgust on his face and in his tone) and he always hopes they'd grow it out. (Me, a lesbian, standing behind him, trying really hard to keep my mouth shut...)

This wasn't the worst part because then he continued with telling us that what's even worse is people who want to change genders. Because there was one student of his in the past who was trans and asked the teacher to call him on his chosen name and not on the name that's in his papers because he's not [deadname] but [chosen name]. The teacher couldn't understand it so he went to ask his boss about it and he told him to call the student on the name that's in the papers.

And then he continued with telling us how he had had to listen to him talking about getting his uterus taken out and breats chopped off and things like that and he then said that he thinks the only problem this student had was that nobody hugged him and told him it was gonna be alright. (Like it fucking solves everything for trans people for fuck's sake... At this point I started getting really fucking angry.)

And then he said that a few years later he met this student again, he has already transitioned by that time and was "obese because of the hormones" (my teachers words) and the teacher claimed he could see the regret, the "I've fucked up" in the guy's eyes. (There was also a really strong fat phobia in addition...)

And what was the moment when I felt like I was going to be sick is when he said he'd "cut the troat of people who turn innocent souls into people who wants to change their gender".

I really really wanted to ask whether he knows anything about transgender people but I don't like conflicts so I kept my mouth shout but I almost started crying because 1) I have a transgender friend with whom I'm really close with and means the world to me, 2) I'm a lesbian but (I think) he doesn't know, 3) he's the teacher I liked the most and I wanted to ask him to be my thesis conusltant because I wanted to choose packaging design as the topic but after this I'm really not sure.

The disgust in his voice he talked about these things with was really really surprising and disappointing to me. But I guess it shouldn't have been because we're talking about a really homophobic and transphobic country. But still, I think he should've kept his personal opinion to himself especially because he doesn't know how many LGBTQ people there are in this class. (I guess he knows about one because there's a guy who's "stereotypical" gay and it's easy to notice and he talked about him after the guy left, but yeah, he's not the only one in the class...)

This is the first time I've thought about writing a letter to the dean about a teacher's behavior but as I said I live in a really homophobic and transphobic country so I don't think a lot of things would change or if the dean would even care. And also, last year someone probably from our class wrote an e-mail about the same teacher to the dean but the topic was the way he talks (lots of swear words and vulgar things) and the teacher was really angry after and I don't want to cause problems and bad atmosphere. I always choose peace and suffering in silence and I know it's not a good thing to do but I'm not strong enough to go against a teacher or a whole university.

But this hurts because it was proper fucking homo and transphobia in an art class for fuck's sake. Everybody knows that in art-related classes there are always (more) non-straight people (than there are in other classes) and you just can't talk about LGBTQ people the way he did.

He says he hopes lesbians will grow it out. He says trans people are trans because they don't get enough hugs and "everything's gonna be alright"s and that it works in a way that people turn people trans... I just... I just can't...

[slayerchick303]

I need advice. Many of you are aware of what I've been going through for nearly a year now. I've decided I'm going to live in an empty apartment for a few years. I'm doing so to save up money to move in an emergency if my newly privately-owned apartment complex decides to not renew leases to drive out us current tenants. I also don't want to replace my destroyed belongings only to have to move to a smaller place, therefore having to get rid of my new things because they won't fit in a different apartment.

Anyway, to get to my dilemma: my laptop, blu-ray player, and television have been breaking down ever since the flood. I would go back to going to the public library every day to use their computers, but my public library's computers are "closed indefinitely". Plus, you can only use computers for 2 hours at the library, so I was reliant on my laptop the rest of the day at the library, then going home to a blu-ray player to relax at the end of the day.

I contacted an electronics repair company, and they told me because everything I own is so old, repairing them is not viable. They told me it is cheaper to buy a completely new laptop, television, and blu-ray player. I looked it up, and they're absolutely right. I even shopped around for repair companies and all of my local ones would cost roughly the same as the people who told me to buy new stuff instead of repairing it. The only item that would be moderately more expensive to replace is my laptop.

Here is my question: if I start a GoFundMe, is that pathetic? Yes, I live below the poverty line, but shouldn't I just be okay with not having things that are arguably non-essentials for like 4-5 years while I save money to get new ones? Yes, not having a computer is bad because my hand function is not good enough to use a smart phone often after the progression in my degenerative neuromuscular disease. That being said, not having a laptop, TV, and blu-ray player is totally doable. I've lived in much worse circumstances. Shouldn't I just be glad I have a bed, a roof over my head, clothes, and a new wheelchair? Those are all that's important, after all. Is me starting a GoFundMe to replace my laptop, TV, and blu-ray player unreasonable? Is only asking for help with the laptop better? Is asking for help for any of them bad?

I'll put up a poll, but if you have something to add, feel free to reply, reblog, or DM me.