#and i feel really hopeful about the future

[sailor-arashi]

This is how you know this person has never actually read A Christmas Carol.

Scrooge is already changing from the very first scene the very first Ghost shows him.

“I wish,” Scrooge muttered, putting his hand in his pocket, and looking about him, after drying his eyes with his cuff: “but it’s too late now.” “What is the matter?” asked the Spirit. “Nothing,” said Scrooge. “Nothing. There was a boy singing a Christmas Carol at my door last night. I should like to have given him something: that’s all.”

By the midpoint of Christmas Present he is determined to undo all the harm he has done. He actually gladly greets Christmas Yet To Come already a changed man and welcoming the lessons it brings despite his own fear:

“Ghost of the Future!” he exclaimed, “I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart. Will you not speak to me?” It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight before them. “Lead on!” said Scrooge. “Lead on! The night is waning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know. Lead on, Spirit!”

The fear he feels from Christmas Yet To Come is that he will die before he can fix things, not that he must fix things or die.

Every adaptation that has Scrooge being scared into changing by Christmas Yet To Come (which is most of them) is a flawed adaptation. Everyone really should read the book to get the actual story. It's really short. It takes less time to read the book than watch any of the movies.

[laylaayman-blog]

🕊️🇵🇸 A Mother's Cry from Gaza: From the Heart of Fear and Suffering 🚨🍉!

Dear friends and compassionate souls on Tumblr !

After more than a year and 2 months of this war and genocide, and after the circumstances became more difficult and we were unable to provide the simplest needs due to the lack of basic food needs and the high prices, I was forced to run this campaign on the GoFundMe website and I hope to God that it will be a path of goodness, provision and compensation for me and my family 🍉🕊️.

We lost security, which is the most important human right. Read the sentence again, yes, security! Which we were deprived of for a whole year (365 full days!) and the days are still increasing!!

Now I am exhausted from the number of times we have been displaced to different areas of the Strip! And I don't want this to happen to us again, what we have seen and experienced is enough!

I am also tired from seeing my daughter Sally putting her hand on her heart every time she hears the sound of bombing and crying from the horror of what we hear!! It's a really bad feeling guys, I hope none of you ever have to go through it 😞..

My health and psychological condition have deteriorated while I am pregnant and I worry about how my child will come into this cruel world, but it is God’s will on this earth, so praise be to God for everything ❤️..

This is our life is between the past and the present !!

Where it was full of beautiful moments, wonderful trips and delicious food, but now everything around us is destruction, fear, displacement, migration, bad memories and exorbitant prices, we are unable to confront it 💔😞..

In this difficult time. The past 15 months of displacement and famine have exacerbated our suffering and unbelievable difficulties. We have used all the sad words to describe the situation we have reached, but these words were not enough. The scale of the tragedy and suffering is much greater than what you may have seen on social media.

There is only fear that fills my daughter's eyes as soon as she hears the sounds around us. She does not realize what is happening outside, but she feels it and sees it in our eyes when she looks at us.

I cannot protect myself, my children. Help me save my children. They deserve a better life, as do all the children of Gaza and the world. Alone, I can't do it, but with your help we can find a safe place and a better future for my children 🥺🇵🇸.

Be the reason for changing a child's life for the better by visiting our link. And donate to us with anything, no matter how small... Every dollar makes a difference and gives us a good life 💕🕊️.

Vatted by @bilal-salah0 here , @90-ghost here , @a-shade-of-blue here ..

[taegularities]

colour me in: photograph (teaser) | jjk (m)

Summary: With both your and Jungkook's careers seemingly peaking, the future feels promising and bright. Yet, amidst the glowing hope, one single phone call dims the light in the rooms of your shared home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; angst, fluff, smut ➳ warnings: [redacted spoiler that shall drop with the chapter], tears, sadness/grief, doubts, tender moments, talk of jk's future and his art, support, jk's dad, surprises, (talk of) a break up oop, mention of children (i guess that's a warning lol), explicit sexual content: let-out-some-steam-sex, dom!jk, big dick!jk, he's actually insane. more details shall be added on drop day; the ending.. <3 ➳ word count: around 760 for the teaser; 25-30k for the chapter ➳ a/n: get ready, it's gonna hurt for a whiiile now :') as always, come n talk to me about this 🤍 ➳ listen to: holo by leehi | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

“You do know that we’re supposed to meet up with them in like,” you drop your eyes to your wrist, pulling back the sweater to unveil your watch, “forty minutes, right?”

“And you think they’ll complain about some extra time alone?”

You deliver a blank stare, not a single blink as you watch him shrug a shoulder. He sports a smirk that you would’ve clenched your jaw to months ago, but today, even if you won’t admit it right this second, it amuses you.

He laughs when you stand there unmoving, like a stick figure silently reprimanding a lethargic boyfriend. You hate to break, but when the contagious chuckle infects you, too, you feel a light wave of relief and serotonin ripple through you violently.

Jungkook hasn’t left vacation mode just yet; while the work for the gallery is still ongoing and he diligent, you catch him slouching ever so often, doodling away at times. You’ll confess, the grey outside is tiring; different from the sunnier countryside you left behind.

There’s a sort of post-bliss blues that even you can hardly shake off.

“You can’t deny that, can you?” he utters amidst his melodious laugh, and you roll your eyes, taking two big steps towards him — much like two days ago.

“I don’t have to deny it to still teach you the importance of punctuality, right? Get up,” you say, smacking his hip — and he uses the opportunity to lift his arm from under his head, reaching for you, but… failing. “Uh-uh. Enough with your tricks. Get up.”

Last night still wasn’t enough — is it ever? You’re not surprised; neither by his thirst nor by your own inner, involuntary reactions. But no time. It’s rude to let people wait.

And you know exactly what Jimin would say — tease — if the two of you arrived at the double lunch date with him and Yoongi too late again.

Jungkook’s voice turns half into a yawn, half into a sigh, tired when he responds, “Yes, ma’am.”

This should do.

But since everything good comes in three, and just for good measure, you add another laser-glance, shooting at him in warning to lift his ass and meet you ready once you are, too. A playfully sigh breathed, you amble to the bathroom, make up awaiting on the sink from when you put it there this morning.

This shouldn’t take long; you’re opting for the minimalistic approach today.

As the hues colour your lips and fill your lashes, you hum a random melody you can’t quite identify. It’s quiet in the apartment until it isn’t — and when Jungkook’s voice chimes, your hand halts mid-mascara-stroke, assuming he’s calling for you.

He’s not; you understand this much when he greets the person on the other end in his liveliest tone at first, volume decreasing as the conversation continues. He’s soon hushed enough for you to not really make out proper words anymore. Hums here and there — Jungkook doesn’t seem to say much at all.

Perhaps it’s Yoongi, or Tae, telling a story. Narrating recent occurrences, the joys and pains that emerged and shrivelled on the vacation that you weren’t part of anymore.

You don’t ask just yet, decide not to disturb.

You finish up whatever is left of your routine, setting the make up and ruffling through your hair, adding volume. When the talk he’s indulging in still remains when you deem yourself ready, you let out a breather and step back into the bedroom.

Still in the same clothes and with the untamed hair as his crown, Jungkook’s gaze is lowered, fingers barely curled into the sheets. He’s sat up now; you see his Adam’s apple bob when you walk in. Instinctively and immediately, you blurt, “Now what did I tell you just a moment ago—”

But the jest dries in your throat and then fades, as dead as Jungkook’s eyes when he looks up at you. Or maybe… maybe they’re not dead.

More so — in disbelief. As if he hasn’t really fathomed what he’s just heard, mind sprinting in circles, attempting to understand.

His chest isn’t moving as it should, and just in general, his body emits inner trouble. Distress. When he lifts his pupils and shifts them towards you, it looks as if he’s hoping that your presence could reverse reality, as if you’re pulling him out of the inevitable quicksand.

But you can’t. You get it; see it right away.

Because the watery gaze and the gap between his lips, this expression, are new to you, no matter how many of his aches you’ve mended. And you guess it has something to do with what his conversation partner just said.

Something that certainly wasn’t part of today’s agenda at all.

the way i even had to change the banner bc it'd be such a spoiler lmaoooo but yeah anyways, what do we think? y'all's thought always help immensely, and life has been so busy that writing took a backseat – getting back into it is hard. but you guys offer so many theories as well as love and always motivate me, so come and let's talk <3

[octavia-goetia17]

I can only imagine how shit blitz must be feeling right now. He feels uncomfortable. Stolas' love for him disrupted, if not destroyed, Stolas' relationship with his daughter. Blitzø has always worried that he would hurt the people he cares about, so would this mean he technically hurt both Stolas and Via by just loving him?

I would definitely love more interactions between Via and Blitzø just to see how things pan out.

I thought about this scene in which Blitz and via actually agree. This isn't the first time they agreed on something

They both HATE Robo Fizz (understandably) .

I also noticed that they both have each other's numbers saved on their phones. (A really cute detail in my opinion)

But also the way Via depicts Blitz is heartbreaking.

Octavia doesn't see Blitzø Buckzo, the guy who makes her father happy. She sees the imp who ruined her family.

I can confirm that Blitzø does care for Via, as seen by this scene

Where he is giving Via a gift. There is inclusivity delivery.

I really hope they talk things out in future and can build a bond. We already know that Via and Loona built that sister-like bond.

[seralyna]

okay reblogging again now that i've read it all and it's really really good. The characters are super compelling, the setting is immersive and the prose itself got multiple outright laughs out of me. I'm a really big fan of the way it presents the horniness of the story. The way that it's largely isolated to implications in the descriptions of scenes early on, before Aster has been broken down by the inevitability of it, is really cool to me. Then of course, later on as the characters finally start talking about it, it feels like a catharsis to the Embarassment in how aster has been approaching the topic up till now. It's just a lot of fun in that aspect. Speaking of, Aster is a delightful protagonist. Their growth in just this chapter is really compelling, and sets the stage in such an exciting way for the future. Their trepidation and sheepishness really does work well to easy you into the setting. It's fun to empathise with their embarassment, cheer on their successes, and of course root for them to be teased and bullied. Much like i've always found in Valerie's work, there is some genuinely hard hitting and introspective stuff that I don't feel qualified to summarise or assess but it did just, work on me. In particular, the stuff drippy said about projecting your embarassment onto others really did hit home, and i'm hoping will help me out with that so uhhh thanks!! this was supposed to just be an endorsment but when i started talking about it i just kept thinking of new stuff and now its kind of a review i guess somehow?? if i'm formalising it like that, I wish i had more to say about the music (which I really like, but failed to notice I could turn on when i first read it and so i kinda, missed out on that context) and the art (which i really really love, but I have never been good at talking about what i like about art) it's just a really really good story and you should consider reading it! wait i thought of more to say don't go. I've been following valerie's work for like 8 years or something at this point, and seeing character concepts that I loved years and years ago being expanded on is just really gratifying to read! like earnestly seeing actual dialogue from drippy and finding out more about her is genuinley really cool to me on a very simple level and i like it a lot!

NEW RELEASE: CURSE/KISS/CUTE episode 0: “Aster Asks!”

Read it for free in your web browser right now!

CURSE/KISS/CUTE is a new episodic erotic web novel about cute gay monsters hooking up in a cursèd wood, with full illustrations and an original soundtrack. 🔞 For adults only! 🔞

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Ch. 108: Fear

Don't get me wrong, that panel with Twilight remembering his friends was beautiful. I think he feels nostalgic for that connection with other people. However, I think what really caught my attention in this chapter was Melinda.

Come on, look at this:

Look at this face of terror. And she was just remembering her husband's eyes!

A long time ago, when we just met Melinda, I wrote this theory about her being afraid of her husband. Today, it was finally confirmed.

I feel so sad for her. Melinda has probably been carrying this alone for a long time. I doubt she's shared her fears with any friends or family members because, who would believe the illustrious political leader could be an abusive man? This is especially true if there's no actual physical violence in the relationship. However, like I said before, violence is more than that.

Something tells me that the violence in their relationship is mostly psychological. Donovan Desmond uses his authority to tell Melinda what to do, to create fear, to keep her away from their children.

Melinda appears as such a composed woman who has her life together in front of others, and only someone as emotionally perceptive and caring as Yor would notice something is wrong. There's a shame component in abusive relationships: "How did this happen to me? I used to be so strong and brave," combined with disbelief: "Am I overreacting? Is he really that bad? Why am I afraid of him if he hasn't really done anything to me?"

Hopefully, in time, Melinda will realize that fear is not only her responsibility; even if her husband wasn't physically abusive, his behavior caused her fear.

Without a doubt is a complicated issue, which brings me to something that will probably complicate things even more:

Yup, Twilight.

I'll admit that this is the first time that I felt very uncomfortable with what Twilight is about to do, but that's exactly the point. Good fiction/literature is suppose to move something within us, even if at times, it makes us feel uncomfortable.

You probably imagine why: Melinda is a person in dire need of therapy. She deserves (and needs!) a true professional and instead, she getting someone who is only trying to gather information.

HOWEVER...

Time and again, Twilight has shown that despite his line of work, he'll always try to do the right thing and the least amount of harm. So, I'm hoping he will apply that in this specific situation. My guess is that it will start as a way to get information (his classic "for the mission") but then, as Melinda opens up, he will actually give her good advice and hopefully empower her, as a real therapist would do!

Something else to keep in mind is that Melinda story of domestic violence could trigger Twilight himself in some way, given his own family history. We will have to wait to see how that goes.

Bonus

A final note on Melinda's beliefs in occultism: it makes sense.

I won't comment too much on the specific meaning of the cards because my knowledge is limited and I'm skeptical about that. But I will say that it makes sense that someone with so much fear and uncertainty in her life would believe in something that would bring her reassurance that everything will be okay or try to know the future in order to protect herself. (I really want to give Melinda a hug.)

On the other hand, you know who doesn't believe in that?:

Yup, our dear Becky, who is one of the most authentic character in sxf, who is protected and loved by her parents and Martha. That makes sense too.

[filthweb]

I think this thirst will barely be considered dark, but I think it still fits the vibe of your blog, if not, no worries.

Sooo, imagine you meet these two charming young men, Satoru and Suguru. Satoru is head over heels for you, but you only have eyes for Suguru. Suguru has a thing for you too but by the time he realizes he'd already promised Satoru he'd help him get a date with you.

You have a cute friend movie date with them both at your place but unfortunately Satoru had something come up. He makes Suguru go anyway to hype him up. Not even halfway through the movie you're in Suguru's lap making out with him.

He pulls away "We shouldn't be doing this, I promised Satoru I'd help him get a date with you."

You grind your hips against his "Is that what you want? Me to go on a date with your friend?"

"No, but I also don't want to be a bad friend."

"Hmm, how about this, I promise I'll go on a date with Satoru, but ONLY if you promise fuck me after."

What he doesn't know can't hurt him right? So, after your cute cafe date with Satoru, he calls Suguru to gush about how perfect you are, how you might be the one, all the while Suguru is biting his lip trying to make sure he doesn't moan as you're riding him.

How long do you think the two of you can keep this going? Eventually Satoru is going to want to sleep with you, right? I mean, he's already got the names picked out for your future children. But Suguru has your heart (and pussy) and the thrill of sneaking around is so hot.

Will guilt get to Suguru before Satoru catches on?

shit i can't be caught posting this

okay but suguru had been doting on you before satoru confessed it out loud to him. despite the cool popular guy persona, satoru is a pussy in asking girls out. especially if someone's as pretty as you so he sends geto as his wingman. little did he know...

you are on the sofa with sugu while toru is arguing on the phone with someone.

"i gotta go. i am so sorry guys." and you don't even try to make him stay. you were hoping to be alone with geto (so did he deep down somewhere)

when it's just you two, you are so hyperfocused with each movement you make, not even remembering the storyline of the movie. you shift closer and closer to get till your thighs touch. your skins do too. one things lead to another and now you're straddling on his lap, making out sloppily, like a greedy bunny.

"fuck we shouldn't. he really likes you, baby."

"you can't say that and call me baby in the same sentence. c'mon sugu...i can feel it against my pussy, y'know? i know you wanna," you argue. he tries to debate but you're quicker,

"alright. i'll go out with him. but only if you..."you guide his hands to your pussy, "fuck her."

with that, all remorse and guilt was swallowed like he swallow curses. he needed you. this will never reach him anyways. toru gets a date and you both get to fuck. everyone wins.

but it was so hard to keep it down. your date with satoru was great but only because you were daydreaming about suguru fucking you after.

gojo calls him up, telling him how you were so sweet and all. geto has the phone on speaker, so you both can feel how wrong this is and how much it turns you in even more. suguru moans a few times but toru doesn't notice because he is busy yapping about you. you shove your tits in his mouth to keep him from making sounds, only removing so he can answer an eventual "hmm"

a few seconds later, satoru goes silent...the call is still on though? fuck did he catch on?

[fanficdailyuser]

Bangchan x pregnant reader

The evening was quiet, save for the soft hum of a playlist Bang Chan had put on—a mix of calming instrumentals meant to help Y/N relax. She sat on the couch, her feet propped up on a cushion, her hands resting gently on her round belly.

“How are you feeling, love?” Bang Chan asked as he walked into the room, holding a tall glass of water in one hand and a small bowl of sliced mangoes in the other. He’d learned quickly that mangoes were one of her favorite cravings these days.

She offered him a tired smile. “Better now that you’re here,” she said. “And is that… mango?” Her eyes lit up.

“Of course it is,” he said, setting the bowl down on the table in front of her. He leaned in to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering a moment longer than usual. “Anything for you.”

Y/N reached for a slice and sighed contentedly as she took a bite. “You’re spoiling me, you know.”

“You deserve it,” he replied, sitting down beside her. His hand found its way to her belly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over the fabric of her dress. “You’re growing our baby. That’s… incredible.” His voice softened, filled with awe. “Sometimes I still can’t believe it.”

She laughed lightly. “Believe it. This little one kicks me all the time to remind me they’re here.”

As if on cue, her belly shifted slightly beneath his hand. Bang Chan’s eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face. “Wow. That’s amazing.” He looked up at her, his admiration unmistakable. “You’re amazing.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, and she shook her head. “I feel like a whale most days.”

He frowned, gently cupping her face in his hand. “Don’t say that. You’re beautiful. You’re carrying our child, and that makes you even more beautiful to me. Honestly, I think I’ve fallen for you all over again.”

Her eyes welled with tears, hormones amplifying her emotions. “You’re too sweet,” she whispered.

“It’s the truth,” he insisted, pressing a kiss to her lips.

As the night wore on, Bang Chan made it his mission to pamper her even more. When she mentioned her feet were sore, he didn’t hesitate to kneel in front of her and gently lift one foot into his hands. “Just tell me if it hurts, okay?” he said as he began to massage her foot, his fingers expertly kneading away the tension.

Y/N sighed in relief, leaning back against the couch. “I think I’m going to keep you forever.”

“I’d hope so,” he teased, flashing her a cheeky smile. “Not planning on going anywhere.”

She watched him as he worked, her heart swelling with love. “Chan…” she began softly.

“Hmm?”

“You’re going to be the best dad. I just know it.”

He paused, looking up at her, his eyes glassy with emotion. “That means a lot coming from you,” he said. “But you’re the one who’s really incredible. You’re strong and patient and so full of love. Our baby’s lucky to have you as their mom.”

They stayed like that for a while, exchanging soft words and sweet smiles, the love between them palpable. Eventually, Y/N dozed off, her head resting on his shoulder. Bang Chan sat still, his arm wrapped protectively around her, his free hand resting on her belly.

In that quiet moment, he thought about the future—the late-night feedings, the baby’s first steps, the family they were building together. He couldn’t wait to share it all with her.

And as he watched her sleep, he couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to love and be loved by someone so incredible.

[lululuzzz08]

I STAND by this (btw i wrote this 23 military time so it might be messy and a bit crazy, i don’t have sources but.. most of the proof i got has been talked about on Tumblr, i’m not someone who thinks about this stuff without some sort of base. Unless it’s something i really wanna think about.)

I love Snape, he’s so intriguing and the only character i can properly relate to. I get what it feels to make bad choices that other people never forget. I feel like Snape is the perfect morally grey character that all us 2 thousand mistakes losers can relate to.

I hate how the marauder fandom hate Snape cause he’s mean to children and is “ugly”.. Like my guy is literally a rockstar with how he’s described!! HES NEVER EVEN CALLED UGLY. And then these curtain lovers (yes that was a Stranger things ref, link at bottom) Stan and bow down to characters with half a page of info! Don’t get me wrong, i love Eileen Prince (which i don’t see enough of) and Regulus black, all of that sort. But come on man… Barty jr is not an angel compared to Snape! Thats a canon fact, he’s a cold blooded murderer. Snape feels remorse! For Lily OR not, it wouldn’t matter cause the same was with Regulus. He betrayed Tom for his house elf, not muggleborns. Snape betrayed for his MUGGLEBORN childhood friend. Pretty similar huh?

Just because Snape is weird and had unrequited feelings who he never forgot doesn’t mean he’s a creep?? Also saying Snape would touch Harry like THAT if he looked like his mother is HELLA icky. Don’t take traumatized characters with flaws and make them worse. People who have been in Snape’s situation will feel like shit. If i hear one more person saying that crap I’m gonna go insane. Because it connects to a much worse problem in real life. Curtain lovers (i cant find a better name, its just so broad) have always blamed the “Losers” for unordinary or bad situations, stuff that doesn’t fit well. Or stuff the Curtain lovers messed up on. An example would be the past belief that witches lived among us. Now, i don’t want to bring real life situations into this, but hey, at least I’m not saying that Death eaters ARE the Nazi’s…

“Witches” consisted of people the curtain loving in command people (i would say government but idk if it was called that back then, oh well. I’ll just say curtain lovers) found a threat. People that were out of the ordinary. People that thought differently, that were WEIRD and easy to miss-understand. The curtain lovers would blame misfortunes on witches. Uncle Sam’s crops died? Sweetie call the priest cause it’s another darn witch! Oh I’m sorry Rebecca? You like books? As a woman?? I need to call the priest you filthy witch!

I know this might be a bit too deep for some god darn children books but saying Snape would SA Lily is such a dirty way to say you hate a character that you don’t even try to understand. It really dives into what type of person you are.

Also, hating Snape for being weird is SOO hypocritical. I mean, have you seen the other Harry Potter fans? Eughh.. I don’t even wanna think about the Tom Felton fans 🤢. That poor guy.

My point is that undermining a character is the least diverse thing you could do.

And the thing og blog said about Snape looking Jewish really adds to it. People really pick and take favorites. Leaving others to rot.

Hope you like this text. I might make a more proper argument in the future, its too darn late rn.

Marauders fans just be having double standards on the point they proud themselves the most on: Diversity

They be like "let's make James brown" (ik that it's in the whole fandom in general but ykwim) and reject the Jewish-looking guy

They be like "let's make Lily obese" and reject the underweight guy

They be like "let's make Regulus abused" and reject the canonically abused guy

They be like "let's make Regulus get groomed into joining the DEs" and reject the canonically groomed guy

They be like "let's make Barty's actions look right by saying it was for love" and reject the guy who did everything for the girl he loved (platonically or not)

Double standards, double standards everywhere.

Diversity only exists if Snape is not involved

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

compos mentis 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: this decrepit pervert is back.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You’re restless. What’s worse, is you have no energy. You never really do. Living is the most exhausting thing you’ve ever done. 

You lean in the window sill, half hunched as you stare out at the suburban street. It’s a nice neighbourhood. Your mother lives in a condo, on one of the highest floors. You hate it. This place isn’t so bad. It’d be nice if it was just you. 

That last thought makes you sad. You don’t know that you’ll ever be able to be alone. You hate being such a burden. What you hate most, is feeling like you’re on a leash. Sometimes literally as your oxygen tube keeps you bound to the tank. 

All your existence, there’s been something wrong with you. In high school, it got so much worse. You didn’t even realise until your mother pointed it out. Then the appointments doubled, the tests too, and it never stopped. Will it ever? 

You’re trapped in a holding pattern. If living is so difficult, should you even try? That’s a bad thought but you can’t help it. You see your mom, you see Andy, and they don’t need all these medicines or this thing to breathe for them. They have lived full lives, they have jobs and a home. You have nothing. 

You turn away from the window. The tall trees and peaked rooftops are no longer so beautiful. They’re just another reminder of everything you don’t and will never have. 

A knock at the door startles you. You cross the room and inch it open. You peer out, disappointed to find Andy again. How long is your mom going to sleep? 

“Hey, sweetheart, I was thinking you might want to come with me. It's pretty quiet around here,” he says. 

“Come with... where?” You rasp. 

“I was going to go to the pharmacy and get your script filled, like your mom said,” he explains and holds up the doctor’s paper. “Found it in her purse.” 

“Oh, uh...” you hesitate. You don’t know what to do. That he’s even asking makes you feel obligated. “Sure, I... okay.” 

“Take your time, I’ll warm the car up,” he assures you. “Anything I can help with?” 

“No, sir, I’ll grab my bag.” 

You shut the door before he can respond. You pause and feel bad. You hope that didn’t seem intentional. You go and grab your belt bag. You check that everything is in it, then drag your tank back to the door. 

You come out and the hall is empty. You go around to the bathroom and rinse off your face. You don’t have a toothbrush so you use your finger to spread some paste around your teeth and rinse your mouth. You’re overly aware of your day-old outfit. You do what you can for your hair then resign yourself to being the same mess you always are. 

You take the stairs slowly. One at a time as you prevent the wheels of the tank from thumping. Andy’s house is so nice, you don’t want to ruin it. You get to the front door and pull on your jacket. You put on your sneakers and awkwardly angle out the front door. 

The SUV whirs in the driveway. Before you can get to the first step, Andy is there. He helps with the tank and sets it on the flat ground. You quickly take the handle and thank him. 

“You alright?” He asks. You wish he wouldn’t be so worried. Your mother doesn’t ever ask, only if it’s for show. 

“Fine,” you assure him. 

You roll the tank past him and he calls after you as you get to the SUV. “Hey, you don’t gotta sit in the back.” 

“Uh, right,” you say. 

You go around to the passenger door and he opens it for you. Once again, he lifts the tank. Before you can react, he does the same to you. You lurch up into the seat and wriggle until he lets you go. He doesn’t seem to notice your discomfort. 

You sit straight and steady the tank between your knees. He shuts the door and you get the seatbelt clicked in. As he climbs in the other side, you take out your vaseline and smear it under your nose. It’s particularly raw this morning. 

“Shoot, is that from the AC? I can turn it down.” 

“No, it’s... okay,” you stare through the windshield. You want to get this done and over with. Your brows furrow at the thought of your mom waking up to the empty house. 

“What’s the matter?” He asks. 

“Nothing,” you insist. 

“You look worried,” he says. 

“I... my mom. She’s in rough shape.” 

“Hungover,” he clucks, “it’s a good thing you don’t take after her with that.” 

You nod, not sure what to say. He does up his seatbelt and checks the mirrors. He shifts and backs out of the driveway. 

“Feel free to put on some music. I don’t think you want to listen to my oldies,” he chuckles. 

“It’s okay,” you hug yourself with one arm, your other hand on the tank. 

The silence buzzes in your ears. It’s too late now to change your mind. Besides, you’re so indecisive about your music. You wouldn’t exactly brag about your taste either. 

The drive stretches on as you huddle into the door, distracting yourself with the passing light poles, houses, and so on. You don’t know this area. It’s not anywhere near your usual pharmacy. You often wait in the car when you do go with your mom. 

He pulls up along the curb and park. It’s a nice quaint street in the neighbourhood. There’s a park on the corner and an organic store on the opposite side. You peek out at the local pharmacy’s moniker, hand-painted unlike glowing banner of the department store where your mom usually goes. 

“Should be able to get this filled,” he says as he shuts off the engine. 

You just nod and hum. He gets out quickly, easily. You envy that. You can’t do anything easily. He comes around as you push the door open. He once more brings down your tank but you’re certain to climb out on your own. You nearly stagger as you do. 

You wheel out of the way as he closes the door. You look around at the other pedestrians. A woman with a stroller, a family just across the way babbling in glee. You turn away before the scene can make you morose. 

Andy leads you to the pharmacy door and pulls it open with a chime. He lets you in first. There’s only a few aisles inside, the pharmacist’s counter is at the back, another till near the front where they sell chocolates and candy. 

You linger until Andy points you down the center row. You go ahead of him and stop before the long counter. He unfolds the prescription as he greats the man behind it boldly. Good mornings and niceties you struggle to get right. 

“Hm, we have these on hand but it’ll be a wait. Been a busy morning,” the pharmacist explains. 

“That’s fine, we can keep ourselves busy.” Andy says. You squirm. You can? Waiting that long will only add to the tension that makes your chest even tighter. 

You back up as he turns around. He looks around for a moment, as if he thinks you wondered off, then smiles at you. “There’s a cafe across the street, how about it?” 

“I don’t... drink coffee,” you say. 

“I know, sweetheart, I remember,” he gently strokes your shoulder, “they have tea, too. Or smoothies. You must be hungry too.” 

“I... if you want to, I guess...” you shrug. 

“You know, I’m not your mom. I won’t say no,” he intones. “You don’t have to be so nervous.” 

“I know, I... I’m sorry.” 

“And you don’t need to be sorry,” he counters. 

You almost apologise again, only to fill your cheeks with air and nod. You feel like you should be though. Like everything you do is a disappointment. 

You go back down the middle aisle. Andy reaches past you to hold the door again. You come out and narrowly avoid a collision. You wait for the family of three to pass by before Andy nudges you to the curb. He takes your free hand as he tugs you with him, jaywalking through the lazy traffic. 

The effort is enough to make your head spin. You get your wheels over the other curb and sway. Andy doesn’t let go. He takes you past the patio area of the cafe and swings back the door before he releases you, pointing you within. 

The smell of coffee, the grind of a machine, and the chatter of diners greets you. You wait behind the two teenage girls at the counter as Andy comes up next to you. He stands close but you assume it’s because it’s such a tight space. 

“Do you want to find somewhere to sit?” He wonders. 

“No, I’m okay,” you say. 

“Sure, uh, so what do you want?” 

You look up at the hand-written menu. You might get a tea after all. 

“The brioche egg sandwich is one of my favourites,” he says. 

“You come here... a lot?” You wonder. 

“Sure. I like to run in the mornings. I’ll grab a coffee on my cool down. And weekends I’ll have breakfast. Your mom’s usually still asleep if she’s around,” he tuts. 

“Right, uh... that sounds fine. Brioche.” 

The girls go to the further end of the counter and Andy waves you forward. The barista greets him by name. She’s very pretty. She has amber coloured braids with a zigzag pattern and cute freckles over her cheeks. You want to ask how she did her hair like that but you don’t want to be rude. 

“Andy, how are you?” She chirps in recognition. 

“Good, we were just walking through the neighbourhood,” he says,  You adjust the tube under your nose self-consciously. The barista is gorgeous and reminds you of everything you’re not. 

“Oh, is this your fiancee?” She asks. “She’s finally come around.” 

Andy chuckles and you blanch. He doesn’t offer a protest and neither do you. You wait for him to correct her. He doesn’t. 

“Sweetheart, what did you want to drink?” He looks at you and you nearly choke. 

“Can I have the pomegranate tea, please?” Even your voice sounds ugly. 

“Sure, what size, hon?” 

“Small,” you croak out. 

“Small pomegrante, and your usual?” She asks Andy. 

“Yep, and two of the brioche breakfast sandwiches. Oh, and something sweet for dessert. Those cherry tarts look delicious,” he points to the display.” 

“Got it, anything else?” She taps the till screen. 

“That’s it,” he slips out his card and waits. He selects a tip amount before he taps, the machine beeping in acceptance. You spy the total right before it disappears. Oh, that’s expensive. 

“I’ll bring it to you, Andy,” she smiles brightly, “you two enjoy.” 

Andy takes your hand again before you can react. He brings you to the table and you sit across from him, right by the window. You feel like you’re on display. You hate it. 

You push the tube into your nose as you think then trail your hand down the length. You stare off into the distance. You don’t know, it feels weird. It feels like he’s doing too much. Like maybe he feels bad for you. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” He interrupts your trance. 

You flinch and look at him, then avert your gaze to the table. 

“You didn’t...” you begin then shake your head. 

“What?” He prompts. 

“Nothing.” 

“Go on, sweetie, you don’t have to be shy with me. You can say whatever you need,” he leans forward as he crosses his arms over the table, “you know, your mom told me you’ve never really had a father figure. I’m here to help, to support you.” 

You nod and pick at your dry lip then stop yourself, hiding your hands under the table. “You-- that woman... she thought I—that we—you didn’t say no.” 

“Oh, I didn’t want to embarrass her,” he laughs. “It’s funny, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah...” you nod at your lap. “It is really... funny. No one would really want to marry me.” 

You cover your mouth as the thought slips out. You shake your head. Why did you say it? 

“Huh? Sweetheart?” He leans in even closer, “you don’t think that’s true, do you?” 

You shrug and peel your hand away, chewing on your sleeve as you slump low in your seat. 

“You’re a nice girl. Pretty too.” 

“I’m not,” you murmur into your cuff. “You don’t have to lie.” 

“Well who says you’re not?” He urges. You shake your head again. 

“Your mother?” He suggests. You shake your head harder. She would be livid if you told him that she did. He clicks his tongue, “well, however it is, don’t listen to them.” He reaches across to you, “hey, sweetheart, look at me.” You obey, trembling in humiliation, “you are very pretty.” 

[mixingandmelting]

Hello! I was wondering if you'd quite something based on the bat boys (or just Jason) reaction to realizing they liked having a normal life?

Like they go to visit the readers' family for Xmas, but their family left without letting them know, so they had the whole house to themselves, so they got to play house. It was in a whole other state, so no needing to be vigilantes. Just them with their s/o getting ready for Christmas, being shown around and just living a normal life for a few weeks.

A/N: Hope you don't mind me not writing about Duke and Damian since they're both minors so legally speaking they can't really travel out-of-state alone. Plus to be real, I highly doubt Batman would want to leave Damian unsupervised considering what happens when he's alone 😔

Dick:

His whole life he was anything but normal, being raised in a circus and now, fighting crimes 24/7. Excitement, action, danger, and adventures are what defines him and how he had always dreamt of how his life would go on. But here he is, tasting “normal” for the first time in his life by spending the holiday with you in the house you were raised in. Snowball fights and building snowmen delays the process of clearing the snow. Not to forget the snow angels that are made once he playfully tackles you down into the snow after you manage to get more on him than yourself. Putting up the lights and decoration both inside and outside of the house was more fun than the times he helped out at the Wayne manor, while finding out shopping for anything during the holiday season is a battle of its own. Adding that to the daily routine that’s usually gone through on his days off every day,  it’s… quiet and peaceful. He doesn’t wake up to sirens or violence. He’s not worried about another mission, instead figuring out how he’ll get your present under the tree without getting caught. You greeting him at the door, placing a kiss on his cheeks that are slightly bitten from frost when it’s decided he’s moving the snow on his own makes him so fuzzy, he starts calling you honey over babe. The most mind boggling about this? He doesn't mind it. It’s hard to accept that he actually likes “normal”. He’s confused over liking a concept that’s completely foreign to him and with his personality, he won’t last long with living with “normal” forever. The happy couple/marriage vibe though? He’s on board and digs it, one-hundred percent. Especially in a house filled with childhood memories, it’s giving him ideas and changing what he perhaps would want in the future in ways he wouldn’t think of back then.

Jason:

Considering his childhood and how he went through the whole reincarnation cycle of dying and then reviving, it’s a desire he had as a kid but gave up right away. He didn’t even fathom that a day would come where he would experience what it would be like to be normal. Walking around and staying in the typical home most average people live in made him tense the first three days, even more so knowing this was where you lived since a child. Moving snow with you becomes his favorite pastime, where you’d distract from getting the job done and have him chase after you from the snowball that hits his back. Or bringing out steaming hot chocolate so his nose and hands would stop feeling as if they’re ready to fall off from the cold after cleaning up and helping you build a snow fort of all things. His hands are frequently on your waist from holding you up to string the lights and hang the decorations after you frown from his “aesthetic” way of placing them, pushing him to move aside so you could show how a real pro does it. It’s also his first time struggling to find time to get a present behind your back from being with you all the time. Eating meals together, taking walks together around the neighborhood and city, acting as bodyguard during grocery and Christmas shopping, spending time together as a couple in general in a house that’s warm, cozy, and peaceful as Jason Todd is a first. Not as Robin once dead and revived or Red Hood, the violent outlaw.  It’s a wish once buried in his heart on top of another where he’s spending time with you that comes true before the holiday. He’s emotional from being so happy, he doesn’t think of anything else other than wanting to live like this for the rest of his life.

Tim:

Contrary to the stereotypes depicted by the media, rich kids don’t spend time with their family; it's usually spent with their nanny as their parents leave them for long periods of time in a house too large for two people. Sure over the years he has healed with his friends and a new family. But it feels like a dream come true with you. He’s laughing and enjoying the soft fluffiness of white that gets all over him, freezing his nose and hands when he tries to clear the snow. He gets into it with you over how the lights and decorations should be placed inside and outside the house when you mentioned you want to outdo your neighbors, a set of blueprints and sketches drawn while debating that rainbow lights were better than the flickering, white ones. To much of his chagrin, he’s fumbling with all the things you toss at him when he helps you shop, him being in charge of the shopping cart as he stays in-line as you grab and bring back what’s needed in the store. Not that he’s complaining, his face suddenly tinted in red when you come back and slip your hand between his hand and the handle during the wait for the next opened cashier. Surprisingly enough, he doesn’t struggle with getting you a Christmas present and placing it under the tree. He had been keeping tabs since the day after Valentine’s Day on the things you’ve been looking at while relying on your habits he memorized to time things perfectly. Similar to Jason, he, too, wanted to live normally like any other person. Him getting to do that by prepping for the holiday with you heals the child in him, making him content and wishing the time the two of you currently have lasts forever.

[voidsturn]

title: no. 1 party anthem

pairing: stranger!chris x stranger!fem!reader

plot: while suffering with the consequences of unprocessed hurt, loneliness and self-hatred, chris is forced to yet another party. he finds himself in a conversation with someone new, which proves to be weird, comfortable, stupid and real.

type: fluff (maybe hurt/comfort), strangers au, close proximity, open ending

warnings: this fic does touch on some sensitive topics but i’m not sure it qualifies as angst. mentions of anxiety attacks, alcohol, smoking/vaping and sex

author’s note: ahhh my first fic on this blog! i’m extremely excited and nervous cuz it’s somewhat longer than i expected but oh fuck. yes, i know this song isn’t actually a happy love song but i just couldn’t bring myself to give them an unfortunate ending. i might in the future but i didn’t want my first fic here to be completely angst (there will be in the future tho, no worries about that) for now, i really do hope you like this!

chris - orange | the girl - pink | nick - purple | matt - blue

“chris, are you making your goddamn piss in there?!” screamed nick, while almost breaking down the bathroom door. he was getting on chris’ nerves, probably more than the thumping bass of some party song or the loud moans of some hookup next door. he was still breathing weirdly but told nick to just leave him alone. nick shortly after, gave up and ran towards the dance floor once he heard the first few beats of some charli xcx song.

while getting out of the bathroom, chris got stopped in his tracks. it was some idiot who couldn’t hold his fucking liquor better than a toddler. he was on the verge of punching that same idiot in the face. “jeez, can you walk like a normal human you fucking moron?” chris realised the asshole spilled some of the disgusting drink on his previously crisp white shirt. he couldn’t believe the theme of this party was ‘classy’. in a matter of thirty minutes, chris almost had an anxiety attack, was caught squatting in the bathroom by his own brother, heard some really unfortunate noises next door, and got his only formal shirt ruined.

chris was stuck replaying the last few moments in his head when the drunk idiot dodged chris and basically threw himself into chris’ safe space - the last empty bathroom. muttering a string of curse words, chris decided to give up on this ‘stupid fucking party’. he thought, or was hoping, that at least matt might be having a bad time as well. in a borderline ritualistic way.

once he saw some familiar faces, chris interrupted a discussion about pokémon between matt and sam. “chris, is it okay if we leave in an hour? i’m finally having a nice time at a party”. matt just said the words he thought would never leave his mouth. sam and colby along with matt tried to calm down the clearly uneasy chris. all he wanted was some fucking peace. chris was getting so goddamn overstimulated, he was fully ready to accept the jail time of a few murders. he wasn’t ready to take an uber either so he just basically ran towards tara after colby told him where she was.

while walking towards tara, chris was so fucking done. doomed actually to be at this party. the big hall felt endless with the maze of sweaty, icky bodies of completely wasted people on the dance floor. this, coupled with the strobing led lights and almost deafening party playlist, proved to be the final boss of overstimulation for chris. he finally reached tara, who was hosting the ‘stupid fucking party’. tara immediately knew chris wasn’t feeling good once he started to frantically ask if there was someplace less chaotic. she said that there’s a rooftop where she saw people go for a smoke.

tara made it seem like the rooftop was a chimney when in reality, there were only three other people. two of them were on their phones, editing pictures taken hours ago, occasionally taking a hit of something bubblegum flavoured. the third was looking at the city skyline. the rooftop was dimly lit with a few fake lamps, streamers and rogue balloons from the loud party downstairs. it was pretty small in size so chris was basically forced to go near the third girl. she had on a sparkly dress. her hair was up in a ponytail with bangs. chris thought she looked pretty but was in no mood to chit-chat cause the environment still reeked of alcohol, pretend and bubblegum. the alcohol smell was probably cause of his ruined shirt. chris walked towards the edge of the rooftop and leaned against the edge, slyly looking for a ‘fucking place to sit’.

he questioned why he was feeling way more sad than at the previous parties he had been forced to. sad wasn’t the word. more like left out. numb… lost even. yeah, his brothers and friends were all present downstairs, having the time of their fucking lives. but why couldn’t he? maybe he wasn’t in a good place mentally. he hated himself and his fucked up predicament for that while the others were just living it up, talking to other excited strangers, dancing, enjoying the ‘stupid fucking party’.

thoughts of self hate started their inevitable projections onto others. in a weird way chris felt almost betrayed. he hated coming across as a complainer but on the way to the party, matt was quick to say shit like leaving in half an hour, while nick was ranting about hoping tara didn’t invite the same morons from two weeks ago. all that bitching and moaning and praying and hating and now nick’s probably dancing his heart out to some ariana grande remix while matt’s chatting with people about fucking pokémon. just pokémon actually, that was phrased really weird.

it wasn’t always like this. all three of them were supposed to be in LA for business and pretend to like this. but at this point, nick and matt were getting a bit too good at pretending and chris just wasn’t. hence the shocking betrayal. now chris knows that entire cycle of thoughts started okay and just spiralled. completely outta his hands. now, he hates that he thinks like this about his two favourite humans in the world. thus began the voices in his head.

“you’re such a loser, useless without your brothers, and still you’re thinkin’ shit like this. fucking pathetic. don’t even have a fucking driver’s license? scared of having a girlfriend? again, you’re fucking pathetic. stop crying and whining and complaining like a stupid baby and suck it up for the love of-”

chris was quick to pull out his nearly dead phone and hence began his doom-scroll during moments like this. he wanted to avoid this shit, at least till he was in the comfort of his own bedroom. he heard the ‘sparkly’ girl behind him muttering and breathing? if anything, he thought she was staring at him cause of the two burning holes he felt at the back of his head. ugh, the one time he doesn’t have a hat or beanie on. he hoped ‘taylor swift doppelgänger’ took the hint that he wanted to be left to his own goddamn devices.

she didn’t. of course she didn’t cause that’s just who she is.

“you should sit down. that glass railing isn’t as strong as it seems. wouldn’t wanna witness a-”

“i got it, thanks” snapped chris as he finally made eye contact with the girl. she had wide eyes, really big hoops and glitter on her face. her dress resembled a disco-ball.

“fine by me, more room on this… floor” chris let out a soft chuckle. can you blame him, he needed it. well to her, it sounded more like a scoff. “sorry, things are just harder to process tonight and i don’t know why” chris didn’t know why the girl was saying things that someone closer to her should hear. ‘maybe she’s drunk’ he thought, while thinking of something weird to ask so she’d go away.

“are you a disco-ball? i’m asking this to see how shit-faced you might be”

“i’m not a disco-ball, i’m a mirrorball… see that’s funny because they’re the same goddamn thing. and, this isn’t a fucking halloween party. and no, i’m not drunk, i’m pissed”

“oooh mirrorball’s got some lip on her huh?” shock wasn’t the word chris could use anymore. more like glad. glad that he wasn’t the only one pissed, again, in a borderline psychotic way. nick had tara to dance with, matt had sam to catch pokémon with. maybe chris could just talk to this girl. it wasn’t completely unrealistic, right?

he walked towards where she was sitting. getting comfortable on hardwood floor was no joke but once he saw her gratefully smile at him for a change, it was weirdly comfortable. she began talking yet again. “any good shows you’ve been watching?” wasn’t the question chris thought he���d be asked. maybe his name or something, but decided to roll with it. “nah, more of a music guy. matt’s the crazy binge-watcher”

“excuse me, more like matt’s the fun one. and yes, i took that personally cause i love shows” the girl was fully ready to defend her slightly insane ways to finish a series. “okay, well i love breaking bad, what about you?”

the girl shook her head “sadly, breaking bad is currently rotting on my watchlist but hey, you’re motivation to finally start it” chris was still hoping for something in common between them. not in a romantic way, of course but it did make talking to a complete stranger easier.

“so what about music?” the girl’s eyes lit up when she said taylor swift. chris was quick to speak. “okay but i don’t get why she’s so popular music wise? she’s cool don’t get me wrong, but-”

“because… she makes us feel seen dude” the girl continued. “the fact that someone as awesome as her can go through some of the same shit as me, makes me feel validated… seen. but then again, i won’t try to make you like something if you just don’t wanna. i do fuck with r&b and rap though if that’s what you listen to”

hoping this is the overlap between them chris asks “you heard of lil skies?” “i have, but i’m a local. more on the chill rap scene”

“so you like drake don’t you?” “say what you want but the guy’s got some hidden gems and his old stuff’s pretty awesome” chris couldn’t agree more. “totally get it, matt and i used to always jam out to the motto and she will-” “is matt your brother?” chris is in disbelief. egotistic disbelief but still. he widens his bright blue eyes. “oh my god, you have no idea who i am don’t you?”

the girl shakes her head “i mean i don’t know which one you are? are you one of those who refers to themselves in third person?” “please say something other than that. you’re making me feel like an idiotic species with that sentence. see now that’s funny cause that’s pretty weird of you-”

“i got it, thanks” the two couldn’t help but laugh. chris was feeling light and it was all thanks to this ‘mirrorball’ he found. he thought he could ask why she was previously pissed, hoping she didn’t take it the wrong way.

“oh i saw my drunk ex downstairs. he said some really weird shit and i got super mad at him and almost punched that bitch in the face” chris let out a wheeze which was promptly stopped by the girl’s pissed face. he couldn’t relate to her, yet he tried to understand. “how did it end?”

“whoa. you just made a taylor swift reference! you’re learning. see that’s funny cause-” “not funny dude. and you’re dodging the question so i’m sorry i asked” chris knew he overstepped the pretty thick boundary with someone he met only twenty minutes ago. after a long sigh, the girl began her explanation. “i just lost feelings. and it sucks cause i didn’t wanna string him along. downstairs he made me feel like i was a monster”

chris completely respected her decision. “you aren’t. you’re already better than people who choose to cheat. how long was it?” he thought people like that are very rare to come by. “barely two months? i don’t really remember but thanks for saying that whole thing” the girl smiled and felt understood. she added. “i tried, but my commitment issues kinda got in the way” chris knew all about that. he really did. even though he was curious, he wasn’t sure if he should go any further. something between the two had changed. one could hear a spark of lighting a firework in the silence, that kinda silence. not the awkward kind at all. peaceful and understood, yet troubled by the past.

both were left thinking about what could’ve been if they didn’t just push people away. maybe chris would’ve had a girlfriend, or an ex by now. maybe she would’ve still been in that relationship. unfortunately, the need to be free and invulnerable overpowered the two’s want of romantic love.

the girl was first to break the silence. “i love how i just said that to you, yet i don’t even know your name”

“the name’s chris” she hummed “name matches the looks”

chris had an involuntary red tint spread across his face while he widened his eyes. “did you just say i literally look like a chris?” “yeah basically” said the girl as if he asked her the dumbest question of the week. maybe of the month. chris agreed and continued, “hmm yeah, we did just trauma bond, yet we met barely an hour ago”

the girl was taken aback. “excuse me, trauma bond where? you still haven’t told me why you’re sad.” chris thought the hard part of finding someone was over. maybe just saying this to a complete stranger was harder. ‘fuck it’ he thought.

“look, i can’t even begin to think why cause every time i do, i ignore it cause i just don’t wanna get into it, and it all just builds up-” chris stopped himself but the girl nodded, showing that it’s okay and safe for him to go on.

“i know i should be happy. i’m young, healthy, well-off… but i feel so lonely, now more than ever. i blame my brothers for finally finding fame and LA actually okay and i know i’m such an asshole for saying that. y’know every single time some fan asks, ‘oh who’s least likely to live without his brothers or who’s least likely to be in a relationship’ they always instantly say it’s me. and i get it. i’ve built an image like that and yes it’s partially my fault but it still hurts. it’s like… people just expect me to be attached at the fucking hip to my brothers, and scared of women. i’m still definitely not ready for a relationship, but when someone says something like that again and again, it fucking pisses me off even more. in a way, it just stops me from pursuing anything cause everyone just always has something to say, and i just can’t help focusing on the bad shit. now i’m here, troubling you. someone i’ve known for two fucking seconds with my shit. i just really fucking hate it”

the girl took in all of his words and hurt and inhaled sharply before she spoke. “it’s okay to feel that way. the whole thing about you just blurting this out is valid. sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger than a loved one because they don’t know anything about you. and i’m weirdly proud that you said all that. it takes real guts”

chris felt the way he thought the girl feels when listening to taylor swift. seen. the girl continued. “and at the end of the day, you’re not gonna fucking end up cranky, sad and alone. as long as you have hope, faith and most importantly, love. not only for others, but really for yourself. if you feel hurt, you’ll hurt others and push them away. so it’s best to take care of yourself first, try to find a way you can open up to people closest to you. then you can definitely find whatever it is you’re looking for” chris didn’t take her words lightly and knew they were gonna be stuck in his head, regardless of his shitty memory.

he resumed the quip-off, feeling much better after letting all that out, and not being blindly judged for it. “so, we’re even now right?” the girl just knowingly smiled and chris couldn’t put a finger on why he just really liked a smile on her face. “y’know, i got all that from a taylor swift song”

“no fucking way. taylor’s songs give you wisdom?” the girl nodded but was quick to add. “more than wisdom, it’s clarity. and advice. honestly, she’s like the older sister i never had” chris wondered which song and as if the girl read his goddamn mind she answered, “well, it’s actually a combination of three songs. one’s the archer by taylor swift, the other’s escape from la by the weeknd-”

“did not think you fuck with him as well. they’re so different from each other” chris says while the girl just blinks. chris immediately apologises. “sorry, i have a habit of interrupting my brothers. my brain’s just really fucking weird and fast”

letting out a chuckle she says, “nah its all good chris. i can personally relate to that” to ensure he didn’t commit a fucking crime. chris lets out a sigh of relief while pulling out his phone, opening apple music in the process. “what’s the third song?”

as if right on cue, the five percent battery warning invades his screen. “ah fuck, phone’s almost dead” his panic continues. “i hate to say this but i have to go. otherwise my brothers will think i left already and my phone will be dead by the time i can call-” “it’s okay chris, go. i’m not mad at all”

chris hurriedly tries to find an outlet on the rooftop but there aren’t any. even the other two people who were previously there are gone, leaving their trace behind with the sweet smell of bubblegum. the girl’s eyes kept following chris, who was spastically still searching for a goddamn power bank or something. anything. “i’m pretty sure there’s no chargers here”

he turned his head towards her so quick, whiplash never felt more real. “okay then tell me your number, your name. anything” he was so out of breath from running around like a hooligan. yet, chris was determined to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating that entire conversation. the girl smiled yet again. ‘that damn smile’ he thought. “i hope you’re coming to jake’s party next weekend. i’ll be there”

chris really liked that answer. of course he did. he liked the chase and was finally excited to come to the next party. his phone started buzzing, messages from the triplet’s group chat appeared on his lock screen asking chris’ whereabouts. they were dying to leave but he wasn’t. he bid his ‘mirrorball’ goodbye and started to run down the stairs. just before chris could go he asked. actually… screamed.

“what was the third song!”

the girl turned around and screamed back the third songs name.

she blushed and looked away while chris’ signature grin took over his features. he saw the rooftop one last time. the battery on the phone was low but his spirits were high. he somehow managed to take a really shitty picture of that very ‘shiny’ rooftop.

the downstairs scene still felt like a thick and claustrophobic fog of pretend, but chris knew that if he really wanted to, he could find something real and grounded.

in their car, the triplets like after every ‘stupid fucking party’, talked about their individual experiences. nick as always began. “tara really needs to invite better people cause what the fuck. why’d they all look so judgy when i told them my favourite genre’s pop? after that whenever i tried to talk to them they’d just ignore me, like a bunch of goddamn high status judgmental uglies. like hello?! the music was loud but you’re not fucking deaf!”

“nick, i thought at least you were having a nice time. sam and colby had to leave five minutes after chris asked me to leave. honestly can’t believe i’m saying this but i should’ve listened to the kid. after that, i locked myself in one of the bathrooms and fucking played cheese escape. that’s right.. CHEESE ESCAPE. chris, where the fuck were you?”

before nick could answer, he saw the slight red tint on chris’ face as a cheeky grin was plastered his face. “oh my god, did you fucking hook up with someone?” the shock value was a bit too high for both matt and chris. the car slightly wobbled on the road. “no you fucking idiot i didn’t. i just went to the rooftop after tara told me it’s quiet up there and just scrolled on my phone. that’s why my phone was dead”

“well since you could’ve called me, i say bullshit. but it’s fine. i won’t ask further” said matt as he partially believed his story. nick was weirdly proud that chris finally talked to someone he didn’t know at a party, all by himself.

after a short thirty seconds of quiet, chris started blabbering about playing a song before he forgot the name. “oh my god, stop saying the fucking name of the song and just play it you brain-dead moron” scolded nick cause kid was morphing into a monkey while matt was on a highway.

chris finally opened apple music on his currently charging phone. he started playing a song called, ‘no. 1 party anthem’.

[scribbly-artist]

Gently, Please

Summary: Jayce is at a breaking point now that he’s on the council, he wasn’t expecting all of this responsibility put onto him. He goes to the place (and the person) that puts him most at ease.

Author’s Notes: For some reason I struggled with this one and I wasn’t really sure why. I feel like they’re a bit OOC, but you guys can judge that or let me know if I’m overthinking it. 🤔 I feel like I write a lot of angst/comfort tickles, someone should tell me to write some sass with Jayce and Viktor one day, I feel like it’d be fun.

Thanks to the anon for giving me this prompt! I hope you like it. :)

Words: ~1,300 | AO3 Link

Jayce couldn't take much more. 

He missed being in the lab with his partner. Being in the council was fine, he supposed. It gave him a lot of opportunities to help with their Hextech research outside of the lab. Getting investors and funding really helped. 

But honestly? He'd rather be in the lab. 

That's how he always felt - he wasn't used to telling others what to do, wasn't used to all this responsibility. He needed a break, even for an afternoon. 

And that's what he intended on doing as he made his way to the lab - his second home - pushing the doors open upon entry.

Viktor was working away - as usual, he practically lived here - his back turned to Jayce. As Jayce approached, he could see Viktor was messing with… some sort of new device at the workbench. 

The sound of Jayce’s footsteps alerted Viktor, resulting in him swivelling around in his chair, pushing his goggles up to his forehead. 

“Hello, stranger,” he commented, looking Jayce up and down. “I haven't seen you in a while - mm, how are things with the council?”

Jayce’s expression changed to something troubled. “It's a lot to take in. I'm not used to all of this. If I'm being honest, I'd rather be here.”

“Would you be comfortable talking about it?” Viktor enquired, using his cane to lift himself off his seat, and then lifting himself to sit up on the workbench, waving a hand to offer Jayce his seat. 

Jayce sat down, the chair bouncing a little as he lowered his weight on it. 

“I didn’t ask to be on the council. I know there’s a lot of benefits to it. For our research, for me, for you. This is all new to me, though.” Jayce leaned over, laying his head down on Viktor’s lap, the other placing a loving hand gently on his head. “I’m a symbol - an icon now. I’m the Man of Progress, making Piltover’s future brighter. But it’s a lot of responsibility I didn’t ask for.” Jayce let out a sigh as he finished speaking.

“It’s a lot to take on, that’s why I try to not be in the public eye,” Viktor spoke, carding his fingers through Jayce’s hair. Viktor knew it soothed him in times of heavy stress. “I apologise for that. Perhaps if I did, you wouldn’t be bearing this feeling all alone.”

“No, Vik, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable having so many eyes on you,” Jayce moved one of his hands to rest on Viktor’s knee. “I just have to bear it. For us, for our work. For our Hextech dream.”

“I’m always in the lab if you need someone to discuss this with, Jayce. All you need to do is ask, and I will always assist you when you need it.”

“I’m grateful you’re on my side, Viktor.” Letting out a relieved sigh, Jayce closed his eyes. “It’s good to get things off my chest. Though, it didn’t make me feel as good as I thought it would.”

“Mm, Is there anything I can do to make it better perhaps?” Asked Viktor, his fingers tangled in Jayce’s hair.

Jayce thought for a moment. Well, he noticed there was always something Viktor would do for Jayce whenever he was stressed out. He always struggled to find the words to ask, though… 

“Can you do… that thing?” Asked Jayce, craning his head so he could look up at Viktor.

Viktor raised a questioning eyebrow. “That ‘thing’?”

“Yeah, you know, that thing you always do whenever I'm stressed out of my mind… or when I’m annoying you too much.”

Viktor tilted his head in confusion at first. He had to flip through his memory for this one. 

Whenever Jayce was being stubborn or particularly irritable, mainly when Jayce was running low on sleep, Viktor had a few tricks up his sleeve to try to make Jayce relax. Sometimes, he had to pull out the big guns… ah, he remembered. 

Jayce wanted Viktor to tickle him. He realised Jayce had the most roundabout way of asking for it, though…

“Ehh, you can use your words, you know.” Viktor had to tease Jayce just a little with a chuckle. 

Jayce moved his hand to cover his eyes with the back of it, his cheeks a little red from the conversation. “It's embarrassing… it makes me feel weak. But I never seem to mind whenever you do it.”

Viktor’s hand trailed from Jayce’s head to the nape of his partner’s neck, scribbling his fingers against the skin. “Well, how could I decline?”

Jayce was already starting to crack up from the small simple touch alone. “Ahaha, can you just– hehehe, be gentle?”

Viktor scoffed at that. “Aren’t I always?”

“Yeheheah, but extra gentle thihihis time.” Was Jayce’s giggly request.

“Whatever you say.” Gently pushing Jayce’s head so Viktor could slide off the bench, he propped his cane off to the side so he could use both hands. He reached forward, gently wiggling his fingers against Jayce’s sides.

Jayce was already giggling, even more so now. He reached out and latched his hands on Viktor’s wrists, but made no attempt to move his hands away. In fact, it was to keep Viktor’s hands in place. Viktor’s hands moved up to gently squeeze at Jayce’s ribs, causing Jayce to throw his head back and laugh.

“You know… mhm, whenever you want this, you can just say the word. You don’t have to bug me while I’m trying to concentrate. And you don’t have to beat around the bush when you’re upset, you understand? Even without saying it directly, I can always tell when you’re in a mood… for this.” Viktor wanted to know Jayce was safe to tell him these things.

Jayce nodded his head in reply, scrunching up his nose when Viktor hit a particularly sensitive rib. Viktor always liked to watch his face change whenever he tickled him. He looked different with a carefree smile stretched across his face.

Viktor started to slow down, figuring that Jayce had had enough. He pulled his hands away, placing them on his hips instead. “How was that? Did it make you feel better?”

Jayce was slowly catching his breath, even gently tickling took his breath away. “Yehehes, thank you, V…” he gazed up at Viktor with a smile, getting up from the chair. 

“It’s definitely a strange thing to ask to make yourself feel better… but it makes sense when it’s you, somehow. Very odd, but endearing.” Viktor gently teased and gave a small smile.

Jayce’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest at Viktor’s comments, his face growing more beet red. “Ahem, anyway… before anyone starts looking for me, why don’t I help you out for a while? Knowing Mel, she’ll start wondering where I am.”

“Of course, I’d be pleased. You haven’t been in the lab for quite a while now. I appreciate the assistance, and the company.”

They both wandered over to the blackboard to discuss some new ideas for Hextech. They could be lab partners for a little while longer.

He really missed this.

[growth-opportunities]

Interventions with the Best of Intentions, pt. 1

[A/N] Hi all! This is sort of my first venture into long-form writing. I was inspired by a brief exchange with @biggerbagingos, so I'm sure he and anyone who follows him already knows where this is headed. Also, heads up, this is gonna deal with some extreme sizes, much bigger than what I usually write about. This is part one of probably three, maybe four if I decide to pad things out. No hard timeline but I hope this gets people excited for the future! Without any further ado...

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The routine was one that Tiffany’s friends now found to be all too familiar. When she got upset, the first thing she did was gather up her long, red hair and throw it over her shoulder. This part was expected take a few seconds as her voluminous hair could be a bit unruly and often fall in front of her pale, freckled face. Once it was done, she took a deep breath, as deep as she possibly could. A second hung in the air, a brief, momentary pause, just holding the breath inside her. Then, she shoved her face into the deep crevice, the ravine, the canyon that was her cleavage and let out a long, muffled scream. It was amusing, though they wouldn’t tell her so, to watch her heave her breasts from beneath far enough to put her head between them, but in this instance, the table she sat at provided a perfect ledge on which to rest her breasts, sparing her arms the herculean lift.

This scream was particularly deep, Valerie silently noted while sipping her bubble tea, sitting across from her buxom friend. The table was on the far edge of a small strip mall, far away from any prying eyes and with virtually no chance of anyone eavesdropping. Between the autumn air and the tea, a slight chill was creeping in. For a moment, Valerie wished she hadn’t cut her dark hair so short, feeling goosebumps spread over her neck. She drew her denim jacket tighter around her slender shoulders, glancing down at her watch. Having known Tiffany since before her gargantuan breasts had even thought about beginning to grow, she knew she could count the number of lung refills like counting the rings of a tree to figure out just how frustrated her friend was. By the time Tiffany finally emerged from her own bosom, her throat burned. Valerie took another sip of her drink, reaching across the table to grab Tiffany’s drink and offer it to her, pushing the straw against Tiffany’s lips.

“Jeez, Tiff. A four? You didn’t even scream that much when you got your homecoming dress.”

Tiffany groaned, pounding her fist against the table, sending a ripple through her bust. She snatched the cup from Valerie’s hand and took a big, angry swig, as angry as one can be when drinking a Cookies ‘n’ Cream milkshake. “That was different.” Though the drink helped, screaming had left her voice hoarse. She lifted her head just far enough to put her arms under her chin, her breasts making for a soft pillow underneath. “At least then I had someone I could yell at instead of just the vague idea of ‘my hormones’ or ‘my genetics’. And, in fairness to her, the seamstress did apologize. I can’t really blame her for not believing the measurements I sent in.” Tiffany blew a puff of air upward, pushing a few strands of her hair out of her face. “This is just…” Tiffany took another deep breath, as if she was about to aim for a five, only to let it out in a defeated sigh.  “My fucking tits are already such a hassle, Val. I really don’t know if I can handle them getting much bigger. I’m gonna have to… I don’t know… carry them around in a wheelbarrow or something.”

Valerie let out a quick, wry chuckle. “Well, I’m sure you could find no shortage of guys and probably a good number of girls who would help push!”

Despite herself, Tiffany’s lips curled into a subtle smile. “I’m serious, Val! I really thought I was done growing and now… another growth spurt? My doctor told me I could literally double in size. I can’t even imagine that!” She fished one of her hands out from under her chin and lightly ran it over the upper swell of one of her tits, her oversized hoodie making them seem even softer.

“I’m already past conventional bra sizes, like, significantly. My boobs were big enough to get me out of running in gym class! Some girls are like ‘Ooh, look at me, I can almost fit half a beer bottle between my boobies’ but I could fucking bury a Stanley tumbler with room left over for another.  For all of this-“ She smacked the side of her tit, the impact rippling across her bust like a waterbed. “to double? I’d struggle to reach my own nipples, Val! I already kinda do! Fuck, I’d be at least fifty percent tit. Maybe closer to seventy-five. It doesn’t help matters that I’m more suited to be the basketball than to play it.” No one in her family was particularly tall, but the growth and weight of Tiffany’s breasts had kept her at a notably short stature, only reaching five feet when standing on her tiptoes, a dangerous feat considering how front-heavy she was. Her backside had a pleasant curve to it as well, but it was completely overshadowed by the gargantuan bust sloshing in front of her.

Valerie reached out and put her hand on her friend’s elbow, trying her best to be comforting. “Hey, your body is going to do what it’s going to do. No sense in worrying too much. You’ll roll with the punches and, no matter what, you’ve got Ol’ Val sticking by your side.” Tiffany smiled at the nickname, ironic considering that Valerie was exactly one month younger.

Another sigh rolled out between Tiffany’s lips. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right! You’re right. I’m still me. I’m more than just my boobs. No matter how big they get, I’m still Tiffany.”

Valerie’s grin took on a mischievous undertone, her brown eyes shining, as she quickly moved around to the other side of the table. She nudged her friend with her elbow, dropping her voice to a low whisper. “And I know that having a pair of big, soft tits isn’t all bad, is it?” Valerie and Tiffany were very close and there were few secrets between the two. Valerie pressed her finger deep into the soft, accepting side of Tiffany’s breast. The busty girl yelped in shock, only getting one or two syllables into asking what Valerie thought she was doing before the words were interrupted by a keening whimper. Blush surged into Tiffany’s cheeks and she once again returned her face to her cleavage, this time in embarrassment and arousal rather than frustration. She made a half-hearted attempt to push Valerie away, but the way her friend wiggled her finger, playing with her breast, made it hard to think. “Hnnngg… V-val… Not here…”

An impish giggle rose from Valerie, only stopping to lean in and give her friend a quick peck on the cheek. “Just wanted to remind you that there are some upsides to these things. Remember that one night when we got drunk and you were fucking begging me so I just kept sucking and sucking and sucking and-“

Tiffany shot upright, nearly dragging her tits off the table. Her cheeks ached with blush, close to bruising. “VALERIE!” It was a barely intelligible squeak, but it got the point across, Valerie breaking into laughter. She draped her arm over her friend’s back, rubbing her shoulders.

“Easy, baby. Relax. I’m just teasing. We should probably head over to the book store before it gets too late, yeah? I’ve been waiting weeks for them to get more of the next book in the Amethyst cycle.”

The words went in one of Tiffany’s ears and out of the other without touching anything in between. The busty girl could barely concentrate. All she could think about was how it would feel to have her breasts sucked while being twice as big. She might actually lose her mind. Beneath her sweatshirt, her nipples stiffened and quivered. She swallowed. “H-huh? Oh, yeah, let’s uh… let’s get out of here.” She winced as she stood, feeling her breasts slide along the table, bracing herself for the impact when they finally slipped off the edge and slapped into her torso. The two of them took a few steps towards Valerie’s car (The Val-mobile, as she called it) only for Tiffany to stop, reaching out for her friend’s sleeve. “Hey, uh, you meant what you said, right? About sticking with me no matter how big I get?”

Valerie smiled bright, leaning over to kiss the top of her friend’s head. Their developments had led them in very different directions; Tiffany grew outward while Valerie grew upward, nearly a foot taller than her friend and a modest handful on her chest, though anyone would look small next to Tiffany. “Of course, cutie. I love you. Always have. I’m with you no matter how big you get.”

A hint of panic crept into Tiffany’s voice. “But… But what if they don’t stop? And I’m just a fucking gross titty monster and I can’t even lift them anymore and I take up an entire room with just one of my boobs and-“

Valerie’s warm hands settled on Tiffany’s cheeks, tilting her up to look at her taller, slender friend. “No. Matter. How. Big. Okay? I mean it. You’re my best friend and that’s never, ever going to change.”

Tiffany nodded, letting her eyes close while she took a deep breath to center herself. When she let it out, she looked back up at Valerie. There was silence for a moment, a strange tension between them. Tiffany opened her mouth only to close it again. On her second attempt, she got it.

“M-more like breast friend, am I right?”

Valerie blinked before busting out in laughter. “You’re such a goofball, Jesus. See? Room-filling boobs aren’t going to take away that razor wit. Now, can we go already? I have to know what Iskandar and Alexan will do when they get to Drosenia. I swear to god, if there’s only one bed at that inn, I am going to flip.”

Now it was Tiffany’s turn to laugh. “Only you, Val. Only you.” The two chatted about the series and the improbably tense situations the characters found themselves in as they trudged to the car. No matter how many times she did it, Tiffany had yet to find a way to climb into the passenger seat gracefully, flopping down into the seat and letting her bust wobble on her chest. She was the only one who ever rode in that seat, so Valerie just left the seatbelt extender in place, letting Tiffany buckle it over her vast expanse of tit. She needed the extender even with it slightly inside her cleavage. The sensitivity of her bust reared its head once again as the engine turned over, sending vibrations through her body. As Valerie began to pull out of the parking spot, Tiffany mumbled a slightly embarrassed thanks for her friend’s care and understanding. Valerie didn’t need to reply, simply patting her friend’s thigh as the two hit the road.

The window was cool against Tiffany’s cheek as she stared wistfully out of it. She was still a bit apprehensive about growing – How could she not? – But at least, now, she felt a bit more secure in what the future could hold. As long as she had Valerie, someone to support her and care for her, nothing else mattered. And who knows? Maybe Val was right. Maybe there could be upsides to being so big.

[emee-ems]

Okay so the inclusion of Tarot cards/reading really intrigued me this chapter. I'm familiar with tarot reading so I tried to figure it out although they only said three cards. I didn't see anyone else try to pick this apart (there could be! my tumblr has been having trouble loading). So I wanted to try and pick it apart in the simplest terms.

I'm not the best with interpretations and I'm still learning myself.

--------------

-The 4 of Cups (upright) means disconnection, boredom and waiting. This card was supposed to represent Anya's present so I guess it makes sense: Anya is trying to overcome the disconnection with Damien to help in the mission. It could also point to her studies, which she finds boring. As for the waiting aspect, the entire mission is a waiting game. I've also read that the card can be about the person in question not seeing or focusing on opportunities in front of them. The Cups in the Minor Arcana usually deals with emotions, relationships, love and intuition.

-The Death card [people always take this one literally]. The Death card can mean the end of something but that also means the beginning of something else. It can also mean transformations. This change can lead to growth. I think Melinda said this represented factors around Anya. Perhaps it pertains to her growth in general (rather than the joke of Yor as the grim reaper).

-The Star (reversed). This is the only one of the three shown to be reversed. If it was upright, it'd mean hope and inspiration but reversed means the opposite: hopeless, losing trust [in the universe] and not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I think this was supposed to represent Anya's future (pretty vague and I'm not sure if Melinda was guessing about that)

Now the rest of the cards in the reading were shown too in the first shot. Again, since I don't know what spread this is so I can't tell what each card/spot represents in the reading. I can only tell what each card can mean on its own. The other ones I can see are: the Ace of Cups [reversed], 10 of Pentacles, and 3 of Swords (the last one is a Wands reversed but her hand blocks most of it out. I WANT to say 3 of Wands but I'm not sure).

Ace of Cups (reversed): feeling emotionally drained or blocked. Missing out on new emotional beginnings or connections. Aces can mean potential.

10 of Pentacles: long-term success and legacy, wealth and stability. Pentacles in the Minor Arcana can represent finances, home, physical body and practicality. Tens in the suits can mean manifestation.

3 of Swords: heartbreak and sorrow, a painful but necessary revelation or separation. Swords in the Minor Arcana represent intellect, thoughts, ideas and communication (I've also seen mind, ambitions, conflict and change). The number three can mean beliefs. The 3 of Swords tends to always be seen as...not great.

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I can't really imagine that Endou Tatsuya put out a bunch of random cards as a joke. At least I don't think so. I just find it interesting that he included it, even as a joke on how little Melinda understands it. It can't just be for that joke, right? Regardless it was interesting to inspect. I'd like to think that this hints that Anya's growth will either lead her towards something or what that other factors will contribute to said growth (or both). These other factors don't sound so good though (heartbreak, and sorrow as well as hopelessness). But, it could also pertain to Damien since that was part of the reading (becoming his friend).

[swimmingenthusiasty]

Woah. That phrase is nostalgic of school. Fucking stationary. Pencil case.

Every surface is fucking smooth. and flat. The tables the floors the board the field the court the path the brains.

The girls like steaming compost heaps inside uniform. Sterile, kept from dirt and dust, yet somehow gross. Warm and fixed in place behind a desk like the zits and pustules on their face. Insecure eyes darting side to side and only finding each other, other girls to judge. Like some type of layer in hell.

Loosing their shit over 'guys' who are all mummy's boys at that age. Yelling over their egos, mum flavoured cries for approval. Repeating mum's script. The asian one talking about a 'gud future' it was just what mum said. The stickler worried about safety was just mum's script. Literal fucking babies. With egos. Because those are the two things that mums make. Babies and egos. It's like full circle for the girls looking because nothing less conceited would have sufficed.

There's no patriarchy. Guys stop moving without egos. Without someone to hype them up. If guys want to function without girls, they will invent women amongst themselves to hype them up. If you want dad to keep going to work and mum does a shit job of hyping him up, you better find a way fast. Either you become like a girl and hype or you get used to making your own home. If she insists that you just can't do that and you can't say no because you're still a mommy's boy and her script overrides yours. Then I hope you like lacey stuff. There was one more thing. Oh, this is when I knew it was him. Women created guys like this because of the way they are with eachother. The way they compete and stuff but always indirectly, through a middle thing. That's why they made men.

This is brother's air. Before he leaves for work is when he has the most to give and he only gives when he sees something in my messages. Doesn't make it less true. I mean i don't know if it is fully correct. I'm like a windchime at this point. Anyone you put me near, I'll make a noise to their presence, to their movements, to the air they displace. Guys usually make writing happen though. Girls will make something actually happen.

If I really wanted I can take with me this feeling about -not being a guy's hype prop by releasing my concern for finances and a place to sleep, for stability. Not stability itself but my concern over it.

She wanted me to replace him in her life, to earn for her in his place and she'd go gut whatever he'd had left without holding back. Mistakes me for him often like it already happened in her mind. Like there was no need to ask. She put me between them when I was little and said I should defend when they fought. I think she also liked cucking when they were good. I think she's a bit gay the way she talks about little girls and women's thighs. I don't know if that means I got it from her, like passed down or if I reacted to how gross she was being. Anyway. All that to say that the next time I'll say 'okay burn the house down if you like' when she tries to make herself your problem (her moods and emotions are hers) or her lifestyle your fault (her lack of lasting friendships does not make you a mandatory friend forever, you're no different to all the other people who wouldn't want to stay) or insists her decisons are your decisons (all those times you say something and get ignored, it wasn't hard to hear what you said, she didn't forget that quick. It's up to you to decide how much respect you want) but then that's no way to practice having a house and any fight or playing up will get a crowd. It's hard to affirm without resorting to disrespect when someone is actually dismisive and disrespectful. I can see how their conversations always went the same. She got what she gave. Then that carries over into other conversations. Or you just feel a bit sad and resentful at real kindess, and i've seen it on my father's face. Like he's thinking oh I have to get used to this now? Where were you this whole time. You're only temporary, it's her shit that I'm used to, we'll be back in the shit and you'll be gone, so just be gone early as a favor. It's not just her. He attracted her from a lifetime of the same shits. It made him more than rough around the edges as a consequence and I've gone through all that's like and I wouldn't want to repeat what he felt or how he became. Input output. Change his input, don't have the same shit he had.

All this sympathy towards him. Told you it was the brother. He misunderstands that's why he thinks I need to think this stuff. I need these people to take back their issues. Him you can't tell him anything other than you're hurt, you need to work on yourself. You're allowed to tell someone enough and they should leave. You don't need a million and one ways to push people away. Some are really hurtful. She was at fault when you said enough and she just smirked that you reacted and looked a fool infront of your house. Now for her, you really can't tell her anything. That's why it's taken so long to peel her off. But being here is because he failed me. I went to him, to be my lifeline IF I needed the van sold. End of story. He betrayed himself so often that he just wanted someone else to take the shit. That's why he called her seconds after he hung up and promised me he wouldn't. That's not exactly why though. There's something severly damaged about him from that last disrespect. She went to his last respectable friendship source, the guy she couldn't dis, undisputed source of respectability amongst both of them and the guy called and shamed him. It's like how the guy at the end of 1984 broke. He will just do anything after that. To appease his opressor. My father had a right to a boundary that she could not cross. He is helping by staying away. He is preventing himself from further betrayal. He is of no use to either of us in this fight. Let me finish and if I betray myself it won't be his influence. Don't fuck bears next time pa pap.

Think of leaving and that's how I know brother's air is wrapping up. It always shows up at the end as what he wants. So stressed to see the car parked, room taken up. Doesn't make it the wrong decision necessarily. Im pretty sure i could sneak guys around in the morning. To help line her up. So they want the same thing. I couldn't get him to line up with her though. I can ask for more stuff, room back, more space in the garden, hang around the house a lot. Though I still think he'd stay and get more sabotagey. It's what he's practiced. More foreign for him to get a place. More familiar to ruin something that's around. I get nothing from a fight. I don't want to have the house, I don't like to be here all the time. I can visualise him moving out. Like he does. But again, for what? I would gladly exchange the feelings for them for something good towards myself. It's just that the best way to do that is not clear cut. Everyone did the best they could with what they had. You can't choose them. If however she chose you to be her backup financial plan that's something but not at all uncommon. If she fought hard to hold you back so she wouldn't be alone then that is also not unheard of in love.

It's about learning about these behaviours from others and knowing better and also, unfortunately, it's about undoing hangups they might have caused. If they weren't undoable, many unfortunate consequences are permanent. It becomes a question of acceptance and if you accept will it also define your direction? Will you do something with it, every. single. day.

Early bird gets the moon

Lake Elkhorn, Maryland.

📷: @zalman_waihaus