#but now im like ok... back into the empty hollow of my so called life

[bpdbunnyy4ngel]

.

[peachiikawa]

Caged Bird | Prince!Oikawa Tooru x Reader

a/n: if you know anything about fairytales then you might realize that the reader has the flute of the pied piper, though modified for the story. been watching a lot of once upon a time and got the idea from the neverland arc. hope you enjoy!

word count: 1.9k

genre: fantasy, romance

trigger warnings: reader gets hurt a bit but nothing graphic

summary: oikawa has always lived a lonesome life in the cage that is his castle. one day he sneaks out and a beautiful melody leads him to you, a traveling musician. oikawa is about to find out that his luck is going to change for the better.

oikawa gazed out over the town from his balcony

he let out a long sigh as he grew bored from his studies

“why the long face trashykawa?”

his bestfriend and knight walked up next to him and leaned against the railing

“oh you know, just bored of being in this castle. theres a whole town of people out there and im stuck in here. gets tiring after a while”

iwaizumi listened to his friend and nodded along to what he was saying

“then sneak out for a day”

oikawas eyes widened

“youd help me sneak out?”

“only if you come back by sundown”

so oikawa grabbed his cloak and thanks to iwas help got out of the castle

despite being born and raised in this town oikawa had no idea where he was

and after about ten minutes he was completely and utterly lost

until he heard the faint sound of a flute

he followed the sound until he ended up in the mostly cleared out town square where he saw you playing a small wooden flute for those who were present, though you had no audience

everyone walked past you as if you were invisible like you werent playing such a beautiful song

he approached you slowly and listened until you finished your performance

“that was really good”

you looked up at him and smiled

“always a pleasure to play for those who need it”

the bright smile on your face felt warm and inviting

like he was meant to be here

“would you like to take a seat next to me?”

you gestured to the spot next to you and he gladly took it

“so...whats your story”

hes hesitant to answer your question

“ill tell you mine if you tell me yours”

you set your flute down in your bag next to you

“well first of all my names y/n and my life is nothing too interesting. im a traveling performer and play my flute as a way to pass time and help those who need it. always come across the most interesting people this way”

traveling. thats something oikawa could only dream of

“so cmon now tell me about you”

he peaked at you through his hood

“ok but dont make a big commotion..im oikawa tooru”

you laughed a bit

“thats funny you share the same name as the prince”

you stopped laughing when you saw the serious look in his eyes

“oh..oh! im so sorry for being so rude!”

you started to scramble around when he grabbed your wrists to stop your movements

“shh yes im the prince but stop flailing people are starting to look”

once you had calmed down he went on

“ive been confined to my castle my whole life and stuck to certain rules i have to follow. it seems like even if i catch a break something else comes along. i have to stay this perfect image because im the prince and it just gets so lonely. its as if im a bird trapped in a cage and theres no way out”

ah so there it is

the reason he could hear your flute

you picked a flower that was growing next to you and placed it in his hair as you spoke

“im sorry your lifes been like that but oikawa, if i may be so bold, even a caged bird will become wise enough to break free. the dream of flying is too great to resist”

Once you had properly placed the flower you smiled at him before standing up from your spot and grabbing your bag

you then held your hand out to him

but he couldnt gather his thoughts

you were so bright it was almost blinding

“now cmon! lets go have some fun!”

he looked at the hand held out to him

and with a leap of faith, he took it

he was going to get out of this cage, this perpetual cycle

and finally add some meaning to his life

day after day you two spent your time together

oikawas days that were once filled with hollow words and empty actions were now filled with happiness

filled with you

and everyday slowly but surely he was falling for you

passing glances turned into prolonged gazes

his heart could no longer stay still around you

you became the key to his happiness

but for now...he had to be content with just being next to you

it would be too selfish otherwise

to ask you to stay with him here in the kingdom...he could never trap you like that

“so what are we doing today y/n?”

you were strolling through the town on a quiet sunday afternoon like you had the last few sundays

“how about we go to the bakery? theyre usually busy but since its sunday i bet its not as packed and then i want to take you somewhere”

he was curious as to what you had in store but decided against asking questions

so you two got some baked goods and headed out towards the woods

“cmon we’re almost there”

you pushed some branches and shrubs out of the way

and one eventually hit him in the face

“watch it y/n! i keep getting wacked by you”

you just chuckled a bit which oikawa had found adorable in itself

it made his heart slow just hearing it

“just come on!”

eventually you two made it to a clearing over a beautiful lake

he didnt know that there was something like this so close by

he was absolutely amazed by it

“take a seat oikawa! we can rest and eat here!”

this moment was just too perfect to him

with you here he felt as if nothing bad could happen

that if he only could see your smile everything would be alright

being content with just being at your side...was no longer and option

he knew that if he wanted this he needed to take his chance

“y/n”

your eyes were full of life and he couldnt help but feel so happy next to you

and before he knew it he was closing the gap between the two of you with a hand gently cradling your cheek

but right before you two could kiss you were ripped away from him

“dont you dare touch the prince commoner!”

oikawa frantically looked around as many of his guards came out of the brush

“get your hands off of them!”

you were pressed to the ground and the sight almost broke his heart

“sorry your highness but we’re under strict orders to bring you back and throw whoever was seducing you to leave the castle into the dungeon”

the guard that had been on you lifted you up like you were a sack and bound you by rope

you gave oikawa a final smile before you were taken away even though you were so banged up that it made him want to puke

he was speechless

this is what he was talking about

being so controlled and monitored made him feel so small and helpless

and he absolutely abhorred it

“your highness your mother is waiting for you in the throne room”

oikawa was beyond upset

this isnt how he wants to live

“mother how could you throw the only good thing in my life away!”

his mother sneered at his words

“only good thing? what need to you have for that filthy peasant! and how dare you cast me aside as if i hadnt given you everything you own, everything you are is because of me! i will not allow for any of this nonsense! now go wash up. and dont you dare ever leave the castle again and i forbid you from seeing that nasty peasant again. wasting your time with such a person...”

he gritted his teeth and was about turn to leave

his emotions were running too high

he wasnt himself and he knew it

but even so...he wont allow it to end like this

he was going to end it on his terms

“no”

“what did you say?”

he stood his ground

“i said no mother. im going to live the way i want and with who i want. ill gladly give up my title because frankly, i never wanted it in the first place. and dont you ever call y/n filthy or nasty again. their so incredibly kind and full of joy and laughter. i can only hope to be like that one day. so ive decided that im leaving. with y/n.”

as soon as the doors shut behind him he let out the breath he didnt even know he was holding

but it also felt as if there was a giant weight off of him now

“im coming y/n dont you worry”

it had been a couple hours since you were brought to your cell

you didnt have any major injuries, just a few cuts and scratches from when you were body slammed to the ground

“do you mind if i play?”

you pulled out your flute and the guard nodded

“thank you!”

you started playing and filled the cell you were in with a relaxing tune

“why do you play if it doesnt make noise?”

you stopped and looked at the spiky haired man who stood outside your cell

“it takes a certain person to appreciate its music”

he just looked at you as if you were crazy

but you continued anyways

until you heard frantic running coming from down the hall

“iwa you gotta let them out”

oikawa was panting trying to catch his breath

“dude no offense but your mom would kill me and you if i just let them out”

oikawa grabbed the key from iwaizumis waist before he even realized what had happened

“dont worry about it iwa. and dont worry about me. today i start my new life. it was good knowing you buddy”

they gripped hands the way they always had. A solemn but knowing look was shared between them

“if i had known me letting you leave the castle one time would lead to this...i would have done it a lot sooner. good luck out there bud”

oikawa quickly turned to you and helped you off of the ground

“you ready to run?”

he cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over one of the small cuts

hed be sure to treat that later

you nodded and leaned into his hand

“are you sure this is what you want?”

you were happy to leave with him

its more than you could ever ask for

“y/n youre the only person thats made me feel free. and by doing this i will be.”

you two finally got to share the kiss you had been deprived of and not only was it full of love but also full of hope for your future

“then lets go”

and you two sprinted off to your next adventure together

the flute you possessed was one he could no longer hear the sound of after that day

for it was enchanted, only to be be heard by those who were lost and lonely

with you he was neither anymore

and he couldnt be any happier than living out the rest of his days with you as a free man, a bird outside of its cage

[anakinthetrashking]

How’s the Heart?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871853/chapters/65565265

Somehow I made it and it is FINISHED!!!! This is my fic that I wrote for @batfam-big-bang​ !!!!

The biggest of shoutouts and THANK YOUUUUS to my incredible betas: Ace, Skye, and Em!!! @toomanyfandoms21​, @timmydrakewings​, and  @geekinthecorner​ !!!! I’ve never actually had a beta before, but for this i had 3??? You guys were so kind and patient with me and my last minute tendencies. Thank you for all your suggestions and edits!!! [heart eyes]

and then!! ARTISTS!! you guys really put your heart and soul into the pieces you made and i just,,,, want to cry,,,,THAMKKKKK YOUUU!!!! keep being awesome! im love u: Butter, Dean and Lucy!!!!!! @heybabybird​, @greenbean-riverdean​, and @houser-of-stories​ !!!!!

Its a Tim-centric 3+1 Three times Tim is helped or comforted by his family, and one time where he's doing pretty alright. (TW: Depression, Anxiety, Suicidal thoughts, etc! full tags on ao3)

1) Here I am to Share the Fear (Tim & Damian & Dick) Bruce is back and everything seems to be going well- so of course old fears pop up again. Damian notices his absence and tries is best in his own way to offer some comfort.

2) Fly Towards the Calm (Tim & Steph & Cass) Steph notices that Tim's failing at basic self care again, so she declares Movie Night. She and Cass try to remind Tim that he needs to take the time to care for himself and not just continue pouring himself out on behalf of others.

3) Night Will Come But Not to Stay (Tim & Bruce) Turns out catching the Clench and loosing his spleen have more lasting effects than they thought. Tim tries to ignore and push past his new found limitations, Bruce notices that something is off and is there for the inevitable breakdown.

+1) Fair Winds, Another Tale (Tim & Alfred) A rare event of relaxation, the Waynes have a picnic at the manor. Alfred worries about his family, but for now, it seems like everything is alright.

Read it under the read more or on AO3 !

Here I Am To Share The Fear

Too much. Everything was too much.

Bruce was finally back, and Tim was glad that everyone was so happy - despite them all being wrong.

Wrong.

WRONG.

He shook his head and put a light smile on his face, trying to focus on the conversation in front of him, but Dick was so loud. And there were far too many people in the mansion - in the same room - Tim swallowed and grit his teeth against the feeling of his organs crawling up his throat.

There were eleven people in the room.

Ten roses in the flowered centerpiece on the buffet table.

Nine cups scattered about the room.

Eight candle flame shaped light bulbs in the chandelier.

Seven white socks (why was Dick only wearing one?) 

Six voices in variating clarity.

Five… Five? Five fingers on each hand.

Four windows, none open.

Three lamps, all unlit.

Two doors.

One exit. Viable exit, at least.

Zero people looking at him. Perfect.

It was time for him to go, so he took his exit as quietly as possible, noticing the volume of the crowd drop as he walked out. No one stopped him. No one seemed to notice. Or maybe they just didn’t care. Good. That- that was something he could deal with.

As he fled to his room, he couldn’t help but notice how alive the manor was. So many lights were on, even in empty rooms. Little things littered the place as if people actually lived here. A book on the table here, ready to be picked up and read from where they left off. A suitcase full of clothes there, waiting to be unpacked. Doors open instead of closed and locked. Bed covers turned down, ready to welcome them home.

Tim reached his door and saw the life that had flooded there as well. Posters, pictures of family and friends covered large portions of his walls. Little trinkets given to him were lovingly placed around his desk. It was more than he could take, so he ran. He ran and ran through hallways and past open doors until the warmth of the occupied portion of the Manor turned to the chilly halls of the guest wing. Back in the furthest unused room is where he finally stopped, willing his heart rate to slow down.

The room looked like something out of a book, everything covered with sheets and layered with undisturbed dust, no signs of life. The evening light cast the room in cool tones of blues and greys, shadows soft and hazy. The attached bathroom was much the same, cold tiles sucking the heat from his feet.

Sitting down, he hugged his knees to his chest, letting the lines of the sink cabinet dig into his back. Tim stared for a while, trying not to think, and letting the clock tick a rhythm into his head.

The clock sounded so loud, and his breath seemed even louder. Nothing felt ok. Exhaustion pushed at the edges of his vision while panic seemed to well up inside of him and claw into his throat. Everything felt like it was closing in on him so he pushed back, laying on the floor and stretching his arms and legs as far as they could go. The cold seeped into him and he vaguely wondered if that’s what it felt like to die. To let your warmth bleed out into the universe. Death… was a calming thought. As humourless as that was, it forced a short laugh out of his throat.

Death would be preferable, he thought, to whatever feeling this is.

Bruce had been back for a month, and for a little while the triumph of bringing him home had been, well, satisfying. Relieving. Exhilarating.

But now, somehow, he was left feeling empty. Hollow. Carved out. His skin was pulled taut over his bones and there was nothing inside. Each day was an empty victory. A consolation prize. An uphill battle against an unseen enemy.

Eating, drinking, getting dressed, sleeping, showering, all done out of the necessity of existence. But most of the time he didn’t feel like he existed at all. Just a doll or a robot - there, but not really. Tossed aside until needed again. Some sort of empty, semi-existent thing. It felt too much like being five again and waiting by the phone for that occasional Sunday call from his parents.

A single tear slipped out, unbidden. It left a quickly cooling trail in its wake.

Everything is so stupid. Tim thought, frustrated by his own stagnancy, willing himself to just do something, instead of just lying there considering the logistics of several stupidly lethal ideas. He was working on kicking out the thoughts when he was distracted by the sound of light, purposeful footsteps. Damian. With footsteps like that it meant he was trying to be considerate. Creepy.

“What do you want?” Tim sighed.

“Drake.” Tim could feel rather than see the curt nod Damian gave him. “Pennyworth brought out those blueberry scones you seem to favor. However, you were not present. So I…” His self-assured tone faltered.

Tim turned to look at him for the first time. “You came looking for me?”

“I would hardly call it looking. You frequent a few spots and the conclusion was obvious by the number of people that are currently within the Manor.” Damian sat cross legged on the floor, pushing a scone into Tim’s hands.

“But why would you…?” Tim sat up, arching an eyebrow.

“It is only natural to know your enemy, Drake. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” Damian sniffed and waited for Tim to take a bite. Then he continued. “Then you will best know how to poison them.” A (dare Tim say it) friendly smirk showed itself on Damian’s face.

Tim snorted, and for once they seemed to have gained a sort of mutual understanding.

They lapsed into silence again. Damian shifted, obviously wanting to say something but didn’t know how. The expression on his face looked so scrunched that Tim almost wanted to laugh.

Instead he asked, “Is it still unbearably loud out there?”

Damian clicked his tongue. “With Grayson in the room? Obviously.”

Somehow Damian seemed even more frustrated. There was a good chance that any moment now he would jump up and leave, but not before throwing out an insult to cover his wounded pride at having to retreat. In his own way, he was trying to offer an olive branch, and as tired as Tim was, something in him couldn’t let that opportunity pass. He could almost hear Dick’s voice in his head, telling him that if he would just talk with Damian, have a conversation, maybe they could find common ground.

For once, he could see the clumsy effort that the brat was making, and he knew deep down, more than anything they both yearned for warmth. Not the sort of warmth that contrasted the grounding feeling of the cold tile beneath him, but the warmth of human connection. The numbness that had been growing in him twisted at that thought and he decided to take a chance.

“It’s nice to have everyone around, but…” he glanced over to try to gauge a reaction, “I can’t seem to settle into it.”

A sort of recognition, reflection, sparked in Damian’s eyes at that, and some of the tension began to leave his body. Tim continued.

“I guess it’s just that there’s always been something. If I do well enough in school, maybe my parents will take an interest in me. If I become a better Robin, maybe Batman will go back to normal. If I bring Bruce back, maybe we can all be happy again… But it never works. It’s never enough, and now- now there’s just… nothing.”

A few moments passed, and Damian’s own internal battle ended as he found the words to reach out in return.

“I, too… Mother’s time was very limited. I trained and studied hard for any extra moment of time or nod of approval she could give… and after Father denied me, it was much the same, trying to rework standards and limits for his approval. Not having something specific to work towards does indeed seem… disconcerting.” Tim searched his face and found sincerity there, though his eyes seemed to be distant as he turned away.

Damian once again found himself at a loss for words, so he thought about what Grayson would do in such a situation. A hug was… out of the question, but- he lay his hand in-between the two of them, palm open. This, he supposed, he could do. Tim took it, surprising them both. Damian’s hand felt almost unbearably warm after the cold of the tile floor.

They sat again, together, in silence. It was more companionable, though still awkward and stilted in ways neither knew how to fix.

“There’s nothing more I can do for this family. There’s nothing I can think of.” The silence stretched before them, and Tim hesitated to put his fear into words.

Finally, he whispered, “ There’s no excuse for me to stay now.”

Damian’s face whipped around to face him. “As usual, you are wrong, Drake.” He scoffed, “Don’t you know you can’t choose who your family is?” pausing, he let go of Tim’s hand and stood up, turning to leave. “You’re stuck with us whether you like it or not.”

Quick but light footsteps sounded out in the hallway.

“Grayson!” Damian called, “Come fix Drake before Father requires his assistance again!” Nodding to Tim he left without another word.

Dick then came skidding around the corner into the bathroom, one socked foot sliding out against the tile. “Tim! Are you ok? What’s wrong? Why are you here of all places?”

Overly warm hands, distant eyes, honest feelings? Tim let out a deep sigh. “You should be more worried about the little gremlin. I think he’s got a fever.”

Dick tensed as if to sprint off again, and Tim held in a sigh of disappointment, knowing that Damian would be the priority, yet again. But instead of running off, Dick simply pulled out his phone and sent off a text, settling down into the spot on the floor that had been recently vacated.

“Bruce is on it.” He glanced out the doorway as if he could still see Damian storming past. “Did he-?” The question of his behavior went unsaid but not uncommunicated.

“No, we had a completely civil conversation. One might even call it a heart-to-heart, by our standards.”

“Therefore, he must be sick?”

“Other signs, too. But yeah.”

The buzz of an incoming message confirmed it, but Dick put his phone away instead of typing out a reply.

“A heart-to-heart, eh? I always knew you guys could get along if you just tried talking.”

“Don’t you dare say I told you so,” Tim shot a glare at Dick who was failing terribly at trying to look affronted at the very thought,  “but it does seem like we are a lot more alike than I realized.”

“Who would’ve known?” Dick teased.

“Never mind, just say I told you so next time.” Tim grumbled. “Anyway, it seemed like he was really trying, and that he wanted to help in some way. I guess I just couldn’t ignore that.”

“Yeah.” Dick had his proud big brother face on. “I'm glad you guys are finally getting along. What did you talk about?”

“Oh, you know, feeling worthless without having something to focus on, questioning our places in people's lives, the usual. “  

“That does seem to be a common theme in our family.”

“He called me family,” Tim murmured. “Or, well, he implied it. But for him, that’s basically saying it.”

“Tim, that’s…” Even Dick looked astounded.

“Unbelievable?”

“No, not unbelievable.” He chided. “But definitely surprising.”

“That’s one way to get me out of a bad mood, I guess. I was so surprised that it jarred me right out of my own downwards spiral.” Tim closed his eyes and took another deep breath. “Most everything still sucks, but that’s a bright spot, at least. My therapist keeps telling me to look for those. I guess I have another one to add to the list.” He turned his head to share a small smile before standing up to stretch. “That and Alfred’s blueberry scones. I sure hope there’s some left.”

Dick matched his smile with a blinding one of his own and reached over to ruffle Tim’s hair.

“You know, if you ever need to talk-“

“I know.” Tim bumped his shoulder into Dick’s. “Thanks, Dick.”

Fly Towards The Calm

“Think fast!” Stephanie’s entrance was about as subtle as a stampede.  She must have been hanging out with Jason lately. As the door behind her swung closed, she tossed a tightly, carefully wrapped package at his face. He caught it with one hand as he finished reading the last paragraph of the proposal he was looking over.

“Evidently I’m the Wayne family errand boy now,” she whined as she jumped up to sit on his desk. “I drove the brat home from school and got enlisted by Alfred to deliver food to your sorry butt.”

“You could have said no.” he muttered. Peeling back the folded wax paper revealed a tuna fish sandwich, exactly how he liked it, though a bit squished from being thrown across a room.

“Refused? Alfred? Are you joking?” she asked, over dramatically taken aback. “Besides, I was rewarded with my own delicious sandwich and not one but two cupcakes.”

“Two?” his eyebrow raised. 

“Well, he only gave me one, but generously allowed me to snatch a second. I didn’t eat yours because I’m nice.” She dropped the rest of his lunch on his now closed laptop.

“Indeed, I shall never be able to repay your kindness,” he said around his own mouthful of sandwich.

“You got that right. Anyway, Cass and I are gonna have a night on the town tonight, wanna come with?”

Tim hummed in agreement.

“Great! I’ll text her. You should probably get a nap first though. Come on, you can eat on the way.” She popped the last bite in her mouth and hopped off the desk.

Gathering his things, he glanced at her in amusement. “Alfred put you up to this, too?”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you even have to ask?”

Looping her arm in his, they headed to the door. He noticed a slight hesitation in her steps and turned to find her looking at him funny. But she just shook her head and let whatever it was, be.

Until they got in the car, of course.

Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as she sped down the road she asked, with a tone he couldn’t quite decipher , “Did you use my dry shampoo?”

His mind ground to a halt. Of all the questions he thought she’d ask, that was not one of them, and for the life of him, he couldn’t reason out why. They constantly borrowed each others’ things without issue, and for that matter, so did the rest of their mismatched clan. Maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe he needed that nap after all.

 It had been a minute, maybe he should answer the question.

“Got my own bottle.” He said carefully, “Seemed useful.”

“Hmm.” God, now she sounded like Bruce. How many odd habits had she picked up from them? 

“Tim…” she sounded soft and hesitant, as if he were fragile. He hated when they did that. “When’s the last time you took a shower? Or ate a full meal?”

He contemplated it with a hum. “Patrol,” he said finally.

Stephanie’s hands tightened on the steering wheel for a moment. “Has it been bad lately?”

“What? …Oh.” Oh. “Not… really? It’s just been numb. Quiet. A bit like the way everything is muffled when you’re underwater.” A bit like drowning, he left unsaid.

She nodded and made a sudden U-turn. When he looked at her in askance, she shrugged. “We’ll patrol together another night. I’ll update Cass when we get to my apartment, but go ahead and text Alfred now. We’re going to have a self-care night with movies and facemasks and whatever other dumb indulgent Pinterest crap I can think of.”

Tim opened his mouth to argue but found he was too tired to care and yawned instead. “Nap first?”

“Shower first. Then nap.”

[BREAK]

He woke the moment she opened the door and turned his head to meet her gaze as she poked her head in with a grin.

“Ca-“ he broke off in a yawn, “Cass!”

With a quick glance behind her, she continued into the room, holding out a steaming mug. Tim sat up in bed, gleefully accepting it as she sat down next to him.

“Coffee,” he sighed in delight.

“Coffee.” She agreed with a solemn nod.

The silence was comforting as they sat there, leaning against each other, Tim soaking in the rare precious moments where he wasn’t rushed, or pulled this way and that. Reaching the bottom of the mug, he set it aside, wrapping his arms around his sister instead.

“You are a blessing upon humanity,” he said, “we don’t deserve you.”

She laughed and tightened the hug. The moment felt just like flying free above the streets of Gotham, and the thought of staying in for the night felt right. Cass pulled away just enough to look at him face to face, an amused twist to her lips.

“You smell like a Steph!” Squeezing him once more, she slipped away and was halfway out the door again when she turned as if she had just remembered something. “Oh!” her smile turned sly, “Decaf!”

“Hey!” He jumped out of the bed to catch up with her, but when he rounded the hall into the living room he was stopped in his tracks.

It seemed that somewhere in between dropping him off at her apartment to take a nap while she met up with Cass and “gathered necessary supplies”, and returning with said supplies, the original objective had been lost.

“It looks like you brought back half the manor’s supply of blankets and robbed a concession stand… and is that the old DVD case? I thought I got rid of that.”

“Yeah. Me and Dick saved it! Having everything digital may be convenient, but having a physical folder of DVDs just feels right!”

Tim suppressed the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and decided to leave the debate of Digital vs. Physical for another day.

“Anyway, you’re up just in time to help us set up the blanket fort!”

An hour later found the living room unrecognizable under the piles of pillows and draped sheets. Tim and Steph stood in the kitchen sorting snacks and discussing the night’s activities.

“-and then there’s this green tea and honey one that’s really great, very soothing-“

“Steph, you don’t have to explain them all to me, you know I’ll always let you test your facial concoctions out on me,” he cut in.

“Of course I know that. I’m not rambling about them for my benefit- I’m rambling about them for yours”

A head tilt was his only reply.

“Ok, let me try to explain this in a different way.” she put down her phone to look at him. “Tonight, Cass and I are going to attempt to teach you how to take care of yourself.”

“I know-” 

“Not in the way that you’ve done or that you know. Your version of taking care of yourself is to fool the cameras, the public, to fool Batman into thinking that you’re at your best.” she shoots him a look. “You’re not. You’re running on fumes and you can’t fool your family.”

“Taking care of yourself is NOT finding the lowest number of hours of sleep that you can ‘function’ on.” She makes quotes in the air with her fingers. “It is not replacing a meal with a power bar, even if the calories are the same! It��s not only taking showers when you have to leave the house, or shutting yourself in to do casework all the time!” her hands fly up in the air and she huffs. 

Taking his hands in hers she looks him square in the eyes before saying more softly, “Self-care is eating full, balanced, Alfred-cooked meals as often as you can. It’s doing your laundry every week and brushing your teeth twice a day. It’s taking naps even when you would literally rather be sorting through the 5-year backup of paperwork in R&D. Or better yet, getting a full 8-10 hours of sleep regularly! It’s looking in the mirror and saying to yourself, everyday, ‘I am good enough. I am worthy of and deserve all the love me friends and family try to give me.’ 

And tonight! Taking care of yourself is having a spa night with Cass and I while we watch anime movies and eat copious amounts of junk food, because we all know that patrol burns an extra 2,000 calories anyway! Plus, we can look at the Affirmations board I have on Pinterest! Cass likes practicing saying them while she beats up bad guys. Says the look on their faces is priceless.”

“Funniest one, I said, ‘I aspire to be a blessing and an inspiration to others.’” Cass recites popping her head out from the mass of blankets, “Guy completely stopped! Then I punched him.”

Night Will Come But Not To Stay

“I cant- I can’t do this anymore! I won’t do this anymore!”

“Promise?”

“…What?” his tears paused for the barest moment, before overflowing again. Bruce was crouched in front of him, tear tracks staining his face.

A moment ago Bruce had been standing with his back to him, untouched by Tim’s words, or perhaps instead, disgusted? 

But perhaps that conclusion was wrong. As Tim searched his face now, it looked more like he was the one in pain and exhausted beyond belief.

His lips were moving, and Tim struggled to catch up.

“What?” he repeated, softly and sniffly, a cord of self-disgust lashing out within him at the pathetic sound of it.

Not just tear tracks, it seemed. Bruce was still shedding tears as he repeated himself.

“Do you promise? That you won’t do this anymore?”

Tim’s mind felt like sludge as he tried to piece together how that request could possibly fit into the context of the last few minutes.

They had been training, not so long ago. Bruce had reached out to Tim first, this time. Offered to train together like they had in the past. Tim had jumped at the chance. He should have known better.

It had been going fine, at first. Great, even.

But his insomnia had been worse than usual this past week, and his other symptoms had been acting up, too. In response to the lack of sleep, maybe, or just the continued pattern he had observed, gradually worsening over time.

Honestly, it was probably a great big mix of things.

But he hadn’t been willing to cancel - not the first thing that he had actually been looking forward to in… too long to think about.

So, he’d shown up anyway, his body begging him to just rest.

They’d warmed up and started sparring.

Well.

It hadn’t even been fifteen minutes of sparring, and his body went from begging to outright rebellion.

He went down and couldn’t get back up.

And for some stupid reason, Bruce had decided to yell at him to get up.

So, he yelled back.

Yelled.

Screamed.

He’s not even sure what all he said, just that this last added bit of disappointment piled atop the ever-building terror of symptoms and lit the fuse that exploded within him and stole the earth from under his feet. It ripped through him and tore out his throat, multiplying as his view was constrained to the back of the man he respected most, seeming to be utterly unmoved by it all.

His obvious confusion and continued silence spurred Bruce to try to explain.

“Promise me that you’ll stop running yourself into the ground. Please.” He tilted his head to try and catch Tim’s eye. “I know you’ve been struggling, and not just lately. Alfred said you’ve seemed like you’ve been having an especially difficult time for quite a while. He said he had been meaning to bring it up to me before… and that he had tried to talk to you while I was gone, but that he couldn’t get you to stay in one place long enough to broach the subject. I know something’s going on. Tell me about it. Let me help.”

“Something’s going-? Help?” his laugh was incredulous and desperate as he dug his fingers into the mats beneath him before forcing them to relax. “No. You can’t- you can’t help me.” He scoffed. “Was this-“ he waved his hand around to try to indicate this situation that he couldn’t find words for, “this, supposed to be helpful?”

“Well,” Bruce looked a bit sheepish, “when you get stressed, I know you tend to internalize all of it. Direct it all at yourself. I thought if you had something outside yourself to direct it at instead… It had worked for-“ he cut himself off. “Well.” He said again, letting it rest a moment before continuing at a different angle. “What do you mean I can’t help you?”

“I mean, you can’t. I- I already researched it. There’s nothing- I mean, I sure had enough time. I had thought, with how tired I am, that maybe it’d help with my insomnia. You’d think so, right? But no. No. I’m still awake, but now I’m lying there, and I can’t do anything. Because I’m too tired! I’m so tired, Bruce. I thought- I thought I knew what tired was.”

“Tim, you’re not making sense. What’s going on? Why are you so tired?” he shifted to sit down and lifted his arms to give Tim a hug but stopped short, holding there, offering.

Tim fell into his arms and Bruce gathered his son as best he could.

“Turns out The Clench has permanent effects that the cure couldn’t reverse. They’re only just beginning to research it, but I’ve been tracking symptoms. Chronic fatigue and pain, nerve damage, migraines- other things they aren’t sure are connected. There isn’t a cure, and it’s gradually been getting worse. I’ve tried the suggestions though it's hardly any change: diet, exercise, rest, the basics. But it’s all just maintenance, and I can’t-“  he went limp as his eyes filled with tears again. “I can’t do the things I used to be able to. I’m barely making patrol- the rest of the day I’m in bed. I can’t do classes. I had intended- I was going to finish High School, or maybe get my GED. But I have to lay down after taking a shower. I can hardly think anymore. I have to drag myself out of bed to go to the bathroom. I used to be able to do everything, and now I can’t do anything! I can’t help you anymore! And you can’t help me.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bruce pulled him closer to his chest and rested his cheek on his head, rocking them back and forth. “It’ll be ok. We’ll figure it out.”

“No, it won’t! It’ll never be ok again! Can’t you see? I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t think! I can’t think, Dad! What use am I now?” his voice broke and Bruce felt his heart break with it.

“Tim,” he gathered Tim’s hands in his own from where they were clutching his shirt, and planted a kiss on his knuckles, smoothing over them with his thumb. “Son, listen to me. You were not born into this world to be useful.” He stopped him before he could interrupt. “I know you like being useful. I like being useful, too. But I need you to listen to me. You are more precious to me than all the stars in the sky. Nothing will change that. When I say, “We’ll figure it out”, I’m not talking about a cure, or some way to make sure you are, quote unquote, “useful”. I mean that we’ll figure out a way for you to live a happy life. A successful life in whatever capacity that it may mean for you. When I say “it’ll be ok”, I don’t mean that I have a fix, I just mean that no matter what, the others and I will be here for you, however you need us. I mean that no matter what happens, you have a place here. You are my son. I love you.” Bruce cradled Tim close again, and their tears mingled where their cheeks pressed together.

“It’s ok. I’m here��

(+1) Fair Winds, Another Tale

Despite still being in the middle of setting things up, the picnic mood was already in full swing. Large blankets were being weighed down by pillows and baskets of assorted snacks. Tables were being laid out to hold the main meal, soon to be a large potluck. No matter how much Alfred insisted on being the one to cook it all, each attendee persisted in bringing something to share. He faintly wondered if they would run out of table space again this time ‘round.

With the majority of the tasks already accomplished, and the remaining tasks hijacked by the ever-enthusiastic young people, Alfred found himself with nothing pressing to do. He made his way over to where Tim sat, transferring water bottles and pop cans from cartons to coolers.

“As much as I appreciate the help, I do so wish they’d stop flinging cutlery across the lawn.”

Tim looked up to watch Steph and Duke and Jason for a moment, trying to suppress his own smirk at the sight of them gleefully tossing said cutlery to each other.

“I mean, it's just plastic, right?”

Alfred sighed as he sat in a camping chair set up next to the coolers. “Yes, but that’s not quite the point. The job is getting done, though, I suppose.”

They sat a moment in pleasant silence, watching as their family milled about, more relaxed than Alfred had seen in years. He hated to break the quiet, but with the entire family around lately and as busy as ever, he had hardly had a decent conversation with any of them. He worried about all of them, of course, and their shared inability to ask for help, but Timothy was an especially quiet lad, when it came to facing problems.

“How are things?”

“Well, all the drinks are already chilled, and we have plenty of ice.”

He shrugged a little at Alfred’s pointed look. “I think they’re ok.” He fiddled a bit with the boxes and tied a fresh garbage bag to the back of a cooler. “Not great, but ok. The weight, the fog… It’s lessened, somehow?”

“Your medication is helping?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a big part of it. But more than that, the way that I think about things now, it’s- I mean, obviously, it’s taken months, and ‘better’ isn’t a word that I’d use- but there’s been progress. And for once? It’s like I can let that progress just, be? I’m not sure how to explain it, really.” He leaned back to stare at the sky. “ I’m still working on things, and putting effort into it, but I guess I’m not expecting things to be fixed completely and immediately.”

Alfred hummed in response encouraging him to continue.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s still frustrating to no end. Trying to ‘let go’ of perfectionism and the control issues… Sometimes I feel more like I’m chopping off parts of myself with the issues rather than just ‘letting them go’. But I’ve been finding new ways to define myself, and it’s been more manageable lately. I can work with manageable. And when it’s not, I have people who make it bearable.” He looked off to where Bruce was welcoming their first guests. “That’s more than enough for me.”

“Master Timothy,” Alfred waited until Tim met his sincere gaze, “I am so proud of you.”

The small smile Tim shot at him reminded him so much of the shy grins that were common when young Timothy had first entered their lives. Alfred’s heart ached for the many children whose smiles he had seen stolen over the years. The moment was cut short as Jason stormed over demanding,

“Tim, Steph is insisting that the 2005 Pride and Prejudice is better than the 1995 version. You have to tell her she’s wrong.”

Steph came bounding over with Duke. “What's wrong with you? Do you hate Kiera Knightley or something?”

Jason took a dramatic step back with his hand on his heart. “You should know better than to ask that question! But the 1995 version is still the better version. It's more faithful to the books! The delivery is stunning! The banter is unsurpassable! And it has Colin. Firth.”

Duke breaks in, “I mean, he’s got a point. They took the time necessary to keep as many details as possible from the book. Elizabeth’s take down of Darcy is unparalleled. When it comes to banter that’s definitely the one to watch. Also, the 2005 Mr. Bennet is kinda creepy, not gonna lie.”

“See? Duke here is a man of taste.”

“But the aesthetic!”  Stephanie cried, “The finger twitch! Darcy looking like a sad puppy in the rain! Elizabeth kissing Darcy’s hand!!! 2005 is a masterpiece! Tim, you tell them!”

“Don’t look at me, I think they’re both great. Besides, I like Jane Eyre better.” Tim says.

The other three stop and stare.

“You know, that makes sense.” Duke said with an assessing look. “Personally, my favorite is the Count of Monte Cristo.”

Jason threw up his hands in defeat. “You guys aren’t even talking about Jane Austen anymore!” They all turned as another car came up the drive. “Oh thank god, Babs is here! She’ll take my side.”

Their conversation faded into the distance as they paraded back across the lawn, dragging Tim into their argument as they went.

Bruce  watched them fondly out of the corner of his eye as he approached in turn.

“The Kent’s are here, save Clark. Lois says he tried a new recipe and wanted to run it past Martha first. Diana’s running a bit late, but for the most part it seems that everyone else will be here in an hour or so. How are things coming along?”

Alfred knew he was asking about more than just picnic preparations. “All is well, Master Bruce. For once, all is well.”

[trauma-genic]

alright so guy-interest and his ex(idfk?) called me at 12:50am over a petty fight, bitchass got mad at how one of us talks (kyle calls everyone homie, bro, my guy, ect.) so he just fucking misgenders us and holy fuck we legit got so fucking angry someone threatened to castrate bitchass (which we 100% would do still) and he goes for the even lower hanging fruit that 'you dont even have a dick, you pussy' which immediately kyle claps back w 'and somehow my dick still bigger than yours 🤔' and to try me bc we legit have almost been killed, nothing fucking fazes us anymore.

im just pissed because now its 2:30am almost and we are all still filled with rage because they call us for our opinion and bitchass doesnt even fucking listen, he just kept going 'thats what i was trying to say' which.... was it? what exactly were you trying to say when you gave him back the engagement ring (that bitchass pushed D into doing sooner than he was ready) every time they have a petty fight over something stupid that Bitchass started. and also holy fuck you CANT expect your partner to put out for you a certain amount of times every week. sex is only a small part of the relationship, but every time when asked about what hes going to be working on is "overcoming his sex-drive" to which i say stfu and go fucking masturbate. your partner is NOT a living sex doll, you both must be in the mood, both must be active participants and communicating with each other. sex is a deep and intimate physical connection and even if some people are more open with it, in our mind, you only really sleep with someone you can trust, someone you would give your life for, someone you hope you can love and they dont end up hurting you instead.

we desperately wanted to be that for someone for so long that i think we dont genuinely need it anymore. we had become empty and hollow for so long, but then D is here again. and for some stupid fucking reason my chest feels hot and my heart pounds when i think of him. and my body reacts in ways it hasnt in years, and i really do want this but i will be the rebound again, like always. do i actually like him or am i just liking that someone is paying attention to us again for the first time in so long.

i want to be someones first choice for once and even still, he wont pick me. and thats ok, we already told him that we are used to this and that if he chooses to eventually go back, as long as hes happy we would be happy. because thats what friends are for, to be there for each other and be happy when a relationship works out. not saying we wouldnt want to be in a relationship, but being used to be second best, who knows if he will actually want to be with me/us bc we have told him about my brain.

anyways goodnight we are fucking tired

[mjahappy]

songs that remind me of dhawan!master and/or his dynamic with thirteen and my personal takes on them (written after 12x05)

major vibes

the wisp sings by winter aid- somber, tired-of-everything, please just listen

Let me sleep / I am tired of my grief / And I would like you / To love me, to love me, to love me

This is the night when these woods sigh

Come with me / There are people who cannot speak / Without smiling / But they would take me from your hand / Or they would try, they would try

This is the murmur of the land

This is the sound of love's marching band / And how they hold you like a gun

And how I sing you like a song / I heard when I was young / And buried for a night like this / Buried for a night like this

keeping me alive by jonathan roy- angry-at-the-world type feel

You try to hold me down so I became a soldier / Built up all theses walls and now I'm climbing over / Those nasty bees are tempting me / Oh lord! But I ain't going back

You take me for a fool (fool), that doesn't make me foolish / Told me I was wrong (wrong), passion made you ruthless / Manipulate, it's just too late / Oh lord! 'Cause I ain't going back no more / Your fueling of the flames gonna show you what I'm made of

Breakin' every chain that you put on me / You thought I wouldn't change but I grew on you / ‘Cause I will never be what you wanted / This fire (this fire), this fire / Is keeping me alive

straight razor by matt maeson-

Hey Mr. Stargazer / Give me a straight razor / Don't let it all faze her / When my news gets so major

'Cause it don't stop / No it don't end / Oh when the seams will start wearing thin / Oh and we'll see if the same thing goes for them / Oh and I tried to start caring like you and like them / When you said that I was killing myself / I healed everything but my shame

Hey Mr. Trailblazer / Spare you a joint paper / It's strange how the days layer / And weigh on you years later

this is war by matthew raetzel- just a really good song ok

hunter ft john mcmillan by riaya- sinister vibe

watch your back by sam tinnez-

One day they will come for us / Like poison dripping in our blood / Blind devotion's not enough / Can't go on with all I should

Feels like a masquerade is the man behind the mask / You better watch your back / You better watch your back / We're standing face to face with the hearts that turned to black / You better watch your back / You better watch your back / Watch your back / Better watch your back

fire on fire by sam smith- has a reminiscing feel, more of a shipping vibe

waves by dean lewis-

there is a swelling storm / and im caught up in the middle of it all / and it takes control / of the person i thought i was / the boy i used to know

mr rattlebone by matt maeson- more somber, reminiscing the once-was

You’re like the calmest / Slit to my neck / Bring me in closer / Spruce up my soul and you fill it with coal / Then you douse it in lava / Chained to my desk / Beckoning nausea / Desperately chosen from a crowd of one and I, I

Call me Mr. Rattlebone / Holy Ghost who haunts your home / They don't know you like I know you / Call me Mr. Rattlebone

im only joking by kongos- the master enjoys playing mind games a lot doesn’t he

love lockdown by glass animals- seriously just look at the lyrics

im not loving you, the way i wanted to/what i had to do, had to run from you/im in love with you but the vibe is wrong/and that haunted me, all the way home

so you never know, never never know,/never know enough, 'til it's over love/'til we lose control, system overload/screamin' no no no n-no

im not loving you, the way i wanted to/see i wanna move, but can't escape from you/so i keep it low, keep a secret code/so everybody else don't have to know

villain of my own story by unlike pluto-

I feel like I'm no good I should run away / I feel like failure's one step ahead of me

Fuck all the people with the Bentley's with their nice lives / Fuck all the people in the mansions with their bright skies / Fuck all the people sitting pretty with their sane minds / Fuck, think I'm becoming the villain of my story

I am the one that's holding grudges / I am the one that lives in pain / I am the one who's out of touch and / I am the one inflicting pain

new life, who dis? by unlike pluto- if he’s post missy

New life, who dis? I don't reminisce / New life, who dis? I don't reminisce

For years I was broke / My life was a joke / And I don't recall you helping / I fought every day / Clawed back from the grave / That whole time where were you?

who are you, really? by mikky ekko-

So you feel entitled to a sense of control / And make decisions that you think are your own / You are a stranger here, why have you come? / Why have you come, lift me higher, let me look at the sun / Look at the sun and once I hear them clearly, say

Who, who are you really? / And where are you going? / I have nothing left to prove / 'Cause I have nothing left to lose / See me bare my teeth for you / Who, who are you?

lesser vibes

solar waltz by cosmo sheldrake- the eternal push-and-pull that the doctor and the master’s dynamic seems to have; the orbit they dance around the other— they always end up back at the other’s side, (year after year, regeneration after regeneration,) always trying desperately to get the other on their side, to just understand, but unwilling to yield their own viewpoint for the sake of the other

far from home (the raven)- the hollow emptiness that he seems to have between manic bouts of energy— almost as if he’s just playing a part; everyone seems to be talking about the implications of the kneel scene but to me it seems as if he’s asking for confirmation that he still is who he said he was; he’s obv extremely affected by whatever ‘lie’ he found out about— when he talks abt gallifrey he looks almost like a lost child mourning something before he lashes out again

silvertongue by young the giant- i mainly see this as his struggle against his own mind (the drums)— and if he’s post missy— how he’s falling back on characterization that feels more familiar

im addicted to madness, but what can i say?/im addicted to badness, but what can i do?

[bythieves-a]

SNAPSHOTS OF MODERN VIC. ( based on the story im writing about him ! many of the usual tw’s apply. )

you’re only thirteen the first time things become too much. a shadow in your school, no one there would even know you exist, if it weren’t for the smell of stolen cigarettes that follows you around. a short thing, with your mother-ruffled hair, the sleeves of an old, tattered, black coat stop just before your fingertips; and all your shirts are hand-me-downs——you think they were your dads. you wouldn’t really know. but your mother puts a ‘lucky flower’ in your coat pocket, every day, and that makes each school day bearable.

the baggy clothes make it easier to steal snacks after school, the darker make it easier to disappear. you hardly even go to class; the teachers don’t notice you, anyways. until they do——the children that do see you love to remark on what you lack; on money, on fathers, on new clothes, on lunch. one comment becomes too many and you’re in the office; don’t call my mum, you plead, you practically beg, she’s working. i can’t take her away from work. but they do. there’s no one else to call. it feels like robbing your mother of money. the embarrassment of taking her away.

when you’re home, you hit your lowest; lock yourself in your room and cry until morning. your chest is so heavy. such a mild dilemma, not the worst thing you’ll face, yet you find you can’t breathe because of it. why does everything hurt so much?

*

sixteen years old and your favorite spot has become a bridge; you sit with your legs swinging through the rail, watching the water flow below you, sound of cars rushing behind you--------the honking horns make you jump. you reek of cigarettes and fireball, when you come here, concealed bottle half-empty and hidden between your legs. arms and chin lean on the railing, tears flowing yet often concealed by a rainstorm you never bother to notice. 

she’s so convinced he’ll come back. you hate yelling at her, but it hurts, to live sixteen years without someone, and watch your mother continue to set a place at the table for him each night. maybe tonight. its never tonight. and its your fault, you know that--------your mother would be happier without you, her drunken, drop-out, thieving son; she’d still have walter. she’d still have money. you don’t realize you’re her only joy. 

the jacket you wear over a torn prince t-shirt is black denim, finally your size, the cuffs and collar lined with a fake-feeling, puffy sort of fur. its your favorite jacket, it keeps you warm--------but you find a picture of your parents together, and note your father wearing one of the same style. you never wear that jacket again.

*

you’re not sure why you cry on the plane to america, but you do. perhaps its homesickness. the change, the sudden wave of how different everything will be. its overwhelming. amos scoffed when he saw you, in your sweatpants and band shirts---------what? you’d asked. its just a plane ride. sat between him and your anxious mother, you hold her hand and wonder if he might do the same; its better not to try, you decide. he might just think you’re strange.

does he have weapons? he must. amos always has a knife, somehow. but how would he bring it here? maybe he’ll teach you that, someday. you’d like him to. he’d like you to stop crying.

*

smiling boy leaning against the counter of your pawn shop; everything feels better, now. amos has made you a partner in crime, his right hand man--------this cover-up is yours as much as it is his, and sometimes you wonder if you make him proud. you’ve grown into yourself; dark hair tickles at the tips of your ears when you let it get too long, you don white button-ups with two buttons always undone, and a long tan trenchcoat is the one thing you’re never seen without--------though, when you’re home you dress the way you always have; a steely dan tshirt has become your favorite, and it never takes you long to break out sweatpants after a days work. you lay on the floor like that and play guitar; mother likes to stand in the doorway and listen, sometimes.

there are knives on you, everywhere. they rattle against the phone in your pocket when it buzzes; you have two friends now who send you pictures of their cat, and they’re so normal, far different from the thief tommy you occupy your nights with---------but you enjoy them. they’re a taste of the life you wanted, as a child. but you think now that life might bore you, if you tried it. its not like you’re good at anything else, anyways. you and amos both know that.

*

your memory is coming in flashes, in blinks of light and sound tearing through the gaps of nothing, the times where you don’t know where you are, what you’re doing-------what time is it? have i eaten today? where’s mama? 

the last thing you remember is the funeral. you tried to cry into amos’ arms, but he pushed you away; knocked you to the ground. get it together. m’not yer dad, kid. he left you crying on your knees before her grave--------but now, suddenly, you’re walking into your friend’s apartment. they’re each holding one of your arms; adrien looks worried, like he’s been crying. ray says something to you, but you don’t understand. you say okay, anyways. 

then you’re on the couch with tea in your hand; you look at your phone and start crying. you haven’t been home in hours. mum would have texted you, by now. your chest is heavy again. you’re dizzy. adrien takes your phone and sets it away. you think he might have kissed your forehead, too.

*

the bottle of mum’s pain killers is empty, now. you don’t remember waking up. something burns. you’re screaming at your father in your doorway, but you don’t remember him knocking. ray looks mortified. she’s leaving today. wheres she going? italy? germany? please take care of yourself, she mutters into a tightened hug. wheres your father gone? she mentions him--------he must have been real. 

you don’t remember the party, you don’t remember coming home, but you remember being warm. it felt like mama was back. you want to feel like that again. 

* 

adrien tries to take you out for christmas, but he has to bring you home. all the children were outside playing in the snow with their parents. mama liked to take christmas walks to look at all the lights. you can’t breathe again, so he holds you for the rest of the day, he pets your hair, kisses your head. its almost feels ok. 

* 

you watch the new year’s ball drop from the discomfort of a hospital bed. you still don’t remember much, but you remember screaming. you remember amos sitting nearby-----was that two days ago? he threatened you. walt was here, too. you threw a flower vase at him. the nurses won’t let you have flowers in the room, anymore. they’re watching you like hawks; better act like you’re alright, so they’ll let you out of here.

you check yourself out early. there’s no reason for you to be there. amos will get mad if you’re gone any longer. your father yells at you when you get home. why is he there? leave me alone. 

* 

the park bench is cold. you don’t remember running here, but you know amos was yelling at you. you haven’t brushed your hair in days. your tears feel like they’re freezing to your cheeks. distant police sirens. are they for you? your chest tightens------but they breeze past the park. you can’t stop shaking. your head hurts. 

walts with you, suddenly, sitting on the bench beside you. he’s put your head in his lap, he’s been muttering things to you the whole time. how long has he been here? please, he says, the first thing you’re able to make out; let me get you home, i know you hate me, but let me be your dad for ten fucking minutes. you’re a mess, kid. 

you’ve never spoken to him without screaming, before, but this time you let him. he helps you up, puts his coat around your shoulders. its the same one as in the photos, but older, it has holes in it. he keeps an arm around you the whole way home, lies you down on your couch, drapes mum’s couch blanket over you. he makes you a grilled cheese, complains about the spoiled groceries in your fridge. it feels nice. he should have been here to do this twenty three years ago.

*

for the first time since you’ve known him, you think amos is going to kill you. he’d never do that, you’ve always been so sure; but this time there’s rage in his eyes, they look hollow and dead---------you’ve seen this look before, its always followed by the snapping of bones. you can’t get that sound out of your head. you saved tommy from this look, once, but he’s not here to do the same. it hurts. you’re supposed to be partners, you trusted him with your life, but he’s going to kill you. oh, god, he’s going to kill me.

but he doesn’t get the chance. bent over from a kick to the ribs, the second you’re out of line with his head you hear a shot--------suddenly you’re covered in blood, but its not your own, and amos has a hole in his head. when he drops, you’re faced with your father stood nearby; shaking, out of breath, mortified-------holding a gun. jesus christ, he whispers.

dad? you sound helpless. you’ve never called him that, before. 

[janetbrown711]

"oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my-" Hazel and Selena 😄

"oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my-" Hazel grabbed her chest as it began to ache from breathing so heavily. Her mind swirled as she looked around and felt slowly impending doom surround her."C'mon follow me. We can climb up that tree," Selena grabbed her cousin and quickly dragged her by an oak tree and climbed up before helping Hazel up. "You okay?""Th-the tree isnt going t-to last. Th-theyre just g-gonna f-find us a-and- a-and- oh why am I so stupid?! I should've known this wouldn't work! Stupid! Stupid!" Hazel was hysterical and smacking herself on the forehead. "Hey! Hazel calm down, its gonna be fine. You aren't stupid," Selena grabbed her wrist and looked her in the eyes. "B-but I-its m-my m-mom a-and m-my fault we're in this whole stupid mess," Hazel tried to choke her sobs. "No its not, its my fault. My idea. Stop blaming yourself," Selena said. "But I'm her daughter," Hazel released her wrist and covered her face. "So?" Selena asked. "So I'm the reason shes DEAD!" Hazel stopped choking it and sobbed uncontrollably. "Hazel... Hazel, no... Its not your fault," Selena rubbed her back in an attempt to comfort. "She-she left Dad because she didn't want ME. I'M the reason," she weeped on."Hazel, its not your fault, he didn't even know you," Selena tried more to get through her but the groans and moans of the zombies had suddenly grown uncomfortably loud. Selena looked down and saw four or so were starting to approach the tree. "Dang it. Where is moms grappling hook when you need it," Selena rubbed her forehead, "Hazel we need to get a move on before we get stuck," she turned to her, "you got any ideas?" "H-huh?" Hazel wiped her eyes with a sniffle. "You got any plans on how to make it out?" Selena asked again. "I-I'm n-not the dangerous one, y-you are. I-im made of paper. I-im weak. I-im not a strategist," Hazel tucked her knees to her chest and Selena sighed. "Hazel, I love you, but we don't have time for this. We need to move. Fast," Selena opened the book and flipped through it, searching and scanning fornany answers, but she never was good at reading ancient languages in a panic. After a bit of scanning Selena snapped the book shut with a groan and grabbed her cousin and they started to climb down. "Wait-! Where are we going?!" Hazel questioned. "Away. Follow me, I'll fight em off," Selena broke off a large tree branch and started whacking the zombies with it. To describe the unread as grotesque, would be an understatement. Their feathers and fur were torn and exposed rotting yellow skeletons. Their eyes were yellow as expired milk. They smelled even worse. But Hazel didn't have time for observations. She had to follow Selena, and she did. She ducked and dived past several of the unread as they tried to reach for her. Despite what the movies said, these zombies weren't slow. They moved at the pace of a normal person if they weren't feeling good that day. Of course, the ones with missing body parts were the acception. Hazel was doing a good job at keeping up, but a hand one again grabbed both of her ankles and she fell to the ground with a thud. "Selena!!!" Hazel cried out. Selena skirted to a stop. "Hazel!!!" Selena started to make a turn around but Hazel soon started to be dragged away and Selena was starting to get overwhelmed by the numbers that were rising. Not to the point of danger, but the stick and the fact she wasn't even a teenager yet were soon going to be a disadvantage. "Selena!!!" Hazel called out again but soon she was dragged so far off she could no longer hear or see her best friend. "Let! Go! Of! Me!" Hazel attempted to kick and flail as bet she could but then the decaying figure picked her up. It was of a woman. It had once had short hair but it was now mostly gone. Her rotting flesh had several scars and wounds and something in her breath smelled of booze. She wore a muddy brownish red dress that had been eaten away by moths and was covered in dirt and whatever else was oozing out of gaps in her rotting skin and eyes. On her head, she wore a golden flower crown that had yet to decay. "M-mom...?" Hazel asked. The zombie didn't appear to be listening. "M-mom I-its me... H-hazel!" she tried to speak but the zombie opened her jaw. Her breath smelled so strongly of booze mixed with rotting innards. The zombie grabbed hold of Hazel's head and she screamed. Just then, there was a loud thwang of a bow and both Hazel and the zombie dropped to the ground. Hazel had barely a moment to process when she heard three gunshots that made her cover her ears. She opened her eyes an saw none other than her Uncle Dewey holding a hand pistol shooting the zombie in the head. Hazel sat herself up and saw her aunt Webby had been the one to shoot the bow and was working on killing the other zombies as well. To her right she saw aunt Lena holding a purple book of spells. Lena opened it with confidence and started chanting. "et abiit immortui canino," she spoke with rigor. As her voice carried through the zombies started to cover their ears and they started walking back to their graves and reburying themselves. Well... The ones that weren't being shot in the head by Webby and Dewey. "Restitui venistis putrescunt inferos!" Lena snapped the book shut and all of them disappeared either into their graves, or laid on the ground with rotting brains lying about. And with that, it was over. Hazel took a moment to look around and again saw the body of her mother. She gasped and went to it. "Woah, kiddo you should step back," Dewey tried to stop her but Hazel shoved him away and looked at it. "Who is-.... Oh.... Oh no," Webby moved next to Dewey, quickly sending a text. Hazel stared into her mother's glossy yellow eyes. They were disgusting. Everything about her was disgusting. Nothing was beautiful. Nothing was what she expected. She was horrifying to look at, especially now that she had an arrow and several bullet wounds to the side of the head. Once her tears started they didn't end. She touched her mother's wrist and suddenly heaved over in uncontrollable sobs. Time and thoughts didn't happen. She just laid there on her knees weeping and sobbing until eventually she felt a pair of familiar arms wrap around her and hold onto her tight. He told her it was going to be okay. He told her it was okay, but her fathers words did nothing to fix anything. Hazel sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, clinging onto her father like life or death. She didn't want to let go. She never, ever wanted to let go again. Not in a million years. Selena tried to say something but Webby stopped her. "Selena, you've done enough tonight. Go and wait in the car," Webby spoke with a dark and unfamiliar tone of seriousness. "But I-""Go. That's an order," Webby said. Selena stepped back. She glanced at her cousin, sobbing and shaking with fright, and knew she had to leave. So she walked away, her head low. On her way back she saw Lena chanting disappearing spells on the corpses as they vanished into thin air. Selena gripped the book tightly before tapping her aunt. Lena stopped and looked at Selena. "This is yours," Selena handed it back, but Lena didn't turn to accept it. "I'm not allowed to speak with you Selena," Lena said simply. "Wh-what?! They can't do that!" Selena was outraged. "Yes they can. They are your parents. Selena, what did you expect? I warned you over and over again to never perform magic without me and to never mess with the undead. Did you really think everything would just be okay after this?" Lena gripped her own book tightly. "I-I... I don't know w-what I expected..." Selena stepped back. Lena sighed. "Go to your car. Your dad is waiting," Lena still continued to not look at her. "...when will I be able to talk to you again?" Selena asked. Lena remained utterly silent, but the message got through. "O-oh... I-I.... I see," Selena felt a hot tear roll down her face. She wiped it away quickly. "I-its ok-okay. It'll be fine. I'll be fine," Selena wiped her other eye. "Car. Now," Lena said. Selena tried to look into her eyes but Lena turned away, but not before Selena saw a drop of water land on the book she was holding in her arms. Selena wiped her other eye again. "I'm so sorry," she apologized and set the book on the ground before quickly walking away and out the, and into the parking lot where Louie was waiting outside the car. "Selena," he straightened up from leaning against the door. "Dont," she snapped and walked right past him and walked all the way home by herself. It was long and she had never felt more afraid and alone in her life but she did it. She opened the front door wide and ignored her two younger siblings before going into her room, locking the door and broke down completely. She lied there and mourned. She mourned the loss of the greatest friendship she had ever known. She mourned the loss of her magic, the one thing that had truly set her free, and she mourned the loss of her aunt, the only woman she felt truly understood her. Gone. All gone. All because she threw it away. She threw everything she ever loved away. The thought made her cry more until there were no more tears left. Only the hollow and empty feeling that had replaced where her heart and love should have been, but there was nothing left to love, so instead it just remained hollow, and empty. Everything was gone. Nothing was left.

[strangeryousee]

Not really one to post a lot of personal stuff here but my blog is dead so this seemed pretty close to throwing my grief into the void and pretending someone is listening.... rather than continuing to hold it in. You know how it goes, you start feeling like youre annoying your friends so you keep to yourself for a while, then some shit happens and you have no one to turn to, you dont want to give your friends your emotional turmoil.... and then it snowballs and grows. And youre facing it alone. And then you get stuck in your own head, and youre fighting to stay afloat in there but maintaining that everything is a-ok and putting on a brave face for everyone around you because youve decided you arent going to burden them with your bullshit...... And then it starts to feel like youre invisible. The Catalyst: The only man Ive ever really loved (And I did love him, Ive avoided admitting that for a long time, but I did), the only man I have ever let touch me.... I realized earlier this week that I just.... dont feel anything for him anymore. And thats for the best. I know it is. He never did love me back, it was a totally one sided, drawn out affair. I cant even in good conscience call it a relationship. It was a dysfunctional, lustful friendship and convenient hook-up at best. But after over TWO YEARS of that dysfunctional friendship its still pretty daunting to wake up one day and realize youve just.... become numb to something.... SomeONE that used to mean SO MUCH to you. Even though I knew it was bound to happen, I knew I couldnt be smitten forever and that one day he would finally push me too far and the rose colored glasses would fall off for good... its still.... fucking depressing, is what it is. He and I went from texting DAILY and hanging out once every week or two...  to hardly speaking. Which we had done once or twice before for a month or two but always because of a fight. Not this time, no, this time we both just... sort of.... stopped contacting each other for no reason. Even though Im more or less ok with us not communicating (especially) while I work through this it still leaves a large emotional gap in my life. Even if it was meaningless and habitual, It was still someone.... contacting me EVERY DAY to ask how Im doing. And even though I dont particularly want to speak to him right now it still hurts to think that hes just as ambivalent to the sudden change as I am. I so badly wanted to mean as much to him as he did to me. I wanted that for SO long, and it never happened. I feel like Im on a hair trigger because of all of this. Everything is wildly more upsetting and personal than it should be. And I cant convince my mouth to open and to just TELL anyone whats wrong because I know my friends are suffering from the same compassion fatigue as I am. I was messing with this guy for two years, they are beyond done hearing about it all. Then there was a new friend in my life that may have possibly contributed to my change in heart. He possessed a lot of the qualities the lover lacked and he was sort of sweet on me, flirtatious, generous. I was flattered, hes a really attractive guy. But as soon as things even HINTED at a “more than friends” level and I realized I might honestly "have a crush” on this friend I completely froze him out. Not intentionally. I just- I seized up, I got scared. Insecure. I can barely choke out a hello or look him in the eyes now. Even though this guy and I were friends he seems to have responded to my abrupt cold shouldering with an equally cold shoulder... and moved on to other pursuits more receptive to his attention. And I cant blame him, were still friends, even if I dont know how to act around him right now, I know were still friends, I just also know hes too conventionally attractive and young to waste too much time on a fish thats not biting (especially since we BOTH tend to be the “I dont speak unless spoken to” type) Watching this new friend change gears so quickly and easily sent me on a downward spiral with my own self esteem though. So Ive.... hurt my own damn feelings, basically, and Im not emotionally equipped to handle it at the moment. Or equipped to handle anything. I left work an hour early because I burst into tears and couldnt stop and I am NOT the kind of person who lets anyone see me cry. I have a mountain of projects on my art desk I havent touched, have no desire to touch. I cant sleep. No appetite. My roommate is basically holding my hand at this point to make sure I do adult things on time and correctly like pay my bills and make a doctors appointment. I keep yo-yoing between emotionally oversaturated and feeling empty. Im just an.... eggshell. Hollow and fragile. I dont think anyone in their right mind will read this pity party all the way to its end but if you do, god bless you, thanks for listening, Im sorry, I dont even have the energy to make this anecdotal or fun to read. Thank you for coming to my fear-of-intimacy Ted Talk. Have a good night.

[mvssmallow]

CWAC: Chapter 29 Part I (temporary re-upload)

Cloudy With A Chance

Chapter 29 Part I: …of airplanes.

Masterlist

Day 0

“You what?”

“I need to go to Japan.”

He stares at Hanbin’s back, waiting waiting waiting for the next reaction with a racing heartbeat in his throat.

“It’s three days till Christmas.”

“I know.” He says with a tired sigh. “They want to meet a producer over there. It’s the last time he’s free before he goes on hiatus with his family for a month. They want to get a lock on him before I start on the album.”

Hanbin stops cleaning his desk and turns around to face him. “When do you leave?”

“Now. Today.” He says, even more exhausted at the thought of having to pack for the airport. “Jin booked our flights already. The cars coming over in half an hour.”

Hanbin nods then and half shrugs. “Yeah okay.”

He’s a little taken aback, unsure what he was expecting but some part of him thought (hoped) that his absence would be more upsetting. He didn’t want to make them sad and miserable but there are times where he just craves some kind of evidence that he’s important in Hanbin’s life.

“So you’re okay with this right?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s your job now.” Hanbin moves past him to open their drawers and rummage for the passports kept there. “Which backpack do you want to take with you?”

He feels oddly blindsided by everything that’s happened this afternoon. The sudden phone call. The impromptu flight. Hanbin’s blasé response. His internal dissatisfaction.

“Jiwon? Which one?”

“Um, the blue one.”

A blue camo print backpack is thrown on the bed and his passport is tucked into the front pocket. He watches as their wardrobe doors slide open and Hanbin pauses to survey all the pre-ironed t-shirts just hanging there.

“Do you want me to help you pack?”

No, I want you to miss me when I leave.

He can’t say that out loud so instead, he settles for: “Yeah, if you’re not doing anything.”

Hanbin scoffs. “What else would I be doing right now?”

They pack with quiet efficiency. Well, he watches Hanbin pack with quiet efficiency, the tense stillness only punctuated by Hanbin’s short questions and his own single word answers. It makes him want to yell really loudly or say something stupid.

But the hour’s almost up. The car will be here soon.

“Wait a minute.” He’s checking the contents of the backpack with a frown, pushing phone chargers and socks out of the way but still not finding the thing he wants. “Where’s your Snoopy t-shirt?”

Hanbin looks at him with confusion. “Snoopy? That shirt is so old. Don’t you want one of your newer-”

“No.” He shakes his head, suddenly pissed off for some reason. “I need that one.”

It comes out harsher than he wanted it to but if picking a fight is the only way he’s going to get Hanbin to react then he’ll play dirty for once.

But Hanbin just goes and looks for the damm t-shirt without saying anything. It drives him insane and he can’t really remember a time he was this frustrated about Hanbin’s selective mutism.

“Here.” A soft and greying t-shirt is held out towards him. “Are you going to wear it out? It’s so old. It’s seriously getting holes in the sleeves.”

He takes it and tucks safely into his backpack. “No. I’m not going to wear it out. I just want to take it with me.”

“Okay.” Hanbin says slowly, eyes suddenly piercing into the side of his face like they always do when they’re trying to read his mind.

The phone in his his pocket starts buzzing and ringing then. Great timing as always. The car is downstairs to pick him up.

“I gotta go.”

Hanbin walks him to the front door and watches him put on his jacket and tie up his shoelaces.

“So umm, I guess I’ll see you when I get back?” He says, prepared and resigned to leave with just a brief kiss. Who knows how affectionate Hanbin is feeling right now.

“Message me when you land? And when you go to sleep.” Hanbin instructs, his voice shaky and watery for a split second. “And when you’re packing again too, so you don’t forget anything.”

He cracks the first smile of the day. “Yeah, I’ll just message you everything okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Then he sees it; the slumped shoulders, the downcast eyes that never meet his and the subtle frown pulling at the corners of Hanbin’s mouth. He can feel fingers playing with the straps of his backpack, even though there’s nothing to fix or adjust.

Well, finally.

“Come here.” He says softly, pulling at Hanbin’s t-shirt and relieved when there’s no resistance at all. Just a sigh.

He’s going to write a song about this one day. He knows it. This exact feeling whenever he pulls Hanbin’s slightly smaller body into his, the initial thrill of butterflies followed by the deep warm ache that comes from something so good, so unbelievable, so comforting, so his.

“Gonna miss me?” He asks. Fuck subtlety, he needs to hear the words sometimes.

There’s a nod against his chest that makes him want to laugh. Typical Hanbin.

“Say it baby. I wanna hear it.”

“Jiwon….” Hanbin whines.

“Baby..” He echoes with another laugh. “You’re gonna make me late if you don’t say it. I’m not leaving till you do.”

There’s more protesting and he can feel the outlines of Hanbin’s face as it tries to bury itself further into his chest. “Illmissyou.”

“What was that?”

Hanbin looks up at him then, all big doe eyes, long eyeslashes and static in his hair. “I’ll miss you.”

“You better.” He says with a relieved grin.

They don’t kiss for half as long as he wanted them to but it’s long enough for the phone to buzz in his pocket again.

“Ahh shit. I really have to go.”

Hanbin’s clinging onto him now, he can feel the slight panic and desperation in the way those fingers dig into his arm. He wonders if it’s wrong to want Hanbin to be like this all the time. It probably makes him a sadist or something but truthfully, nobody has ever needed him before and it’d be nice if that happened at least once in his life.

“Okay, well. I’ll message you when-”

“-I love you.”

It is so quiet against his own voice but he still hears it loud and clear.

Does he stop breathing? For a second? Or a minute. One of those. He’s not sure which one. The backpack is dropped to the ground and he holds that beautifully nervous face in his hands for so long that his phone buzzes in his pocket for a third time and he has the fleeting though that his Beatbox team should just go to Japan without him.

“Fuck, Hanbin.” He says in hushed disbelief. “Why did you have to say it right now? Worst timing ever. Shit, how am I supposed to leave?”

There’s the most sheepish of shrugs that makes Hanbin look even smaller. Maybe small enough to fit into his backpack.

“I really need to go but fuck, I’m gonna miss you so much. You have no idea. I haven’t even left and I miss you already. Wanna come with me? Please come with me?”

Hanbin laughs at his dramatics before leaning up to kiss him in that infuriatingly slow and sweet way that satisfies every empty part of his soul.

“Mmmmlove you.” He murmurs against those soft lips.

“I know.” Hanbin says with a smile before pushing him away gently. “Go to work. I’ll be here when you get back.”

He doesn’t bother hiding his sigh as he picks up his backpack. Every step outside their apartment door is harder than the one before it. He looks at Hanbin leaning against the doorframe in that old disneyland t-shirt, his hair is a mess, cheek flushed and there’s some kind of wistful bittersweet look on his face.

He loves him more than he loves his entire life.

It’s a crazy thought that he’d only read about or seen in movies, believing for all these years that they were unrealistic, impossible and overdramatic….until now.

“Don’t do anything stupid!” He shouts from down the corridor.

“Can’t anyway. My stupid is going to Japan!” Hanbin shouts back.

****

It’s weird.

Too many years spent on a diet of Linklater movies, Murakami books and songs about longing has got him expecting something that never comes. He expected to feel some big gaping hole when Jiwon left for the airport but he doesn’t.

Of course he misses him. He misses him a lot.

But that hollow melancholy that he felt when they broke up isn’t there. Which is good he supposes, he doesn’t want that feeling back. Ever.

It doesn’t really feel like Jiwon went anywhere though. He’s been gone for barely 20 minutes before the first of the texts come. It makes him smile like an idiot.

[did we pack snoopy?xj]

[Yeah we did. He’s in there. Don’t worry. hx]

He thought it’d end there until Jiwon lands in Japan but there’s another buzz of his phone after a few minutes.

[did we pack my passport?]

[YES omg]

[did we pack the killr bees]

[Yes. We packed everything you wanted. Stop asking me. Lol.]

[im bored.]

[Its been like 20 minutes.]

[Yeah I kno. Then we have to wt at the airprt]

[Your life is so hard. Poor baby.]

[Haha am I your baby now?]

[Idk, I have to check with my boyfriend]

[Wts he like]

[Better than you]

[wll thats rude]

[Talk to me when you have a record deal]

[its ok, gt my own bf. hes not as good as u tho]

[You can’t even pretend in texts?]

[haha nope. Can’t pretend like ur not the best]

[You need to get out more]

[nah, got u now. im nevr leavng]

It’s just a few words, full of typos, but it still makes his stomach drop.

[But what should we do about my boyfriend?]

[idk get a biggr bed haha]

[JIWON]

[WHAT]

[!!!]

[im kiddin! you gotta be crazy if u think im gonna share you]

[hey we’re here, hve to go. talk later.]

[love you baby xj]

[Have a safe flight. Love you too.xhx]

The smile doesn’t leave his face. Not for the entire time he makes dinner for himself. It’s only when he sits down at their table that he feels it, the hollow emptiness of the chair next to him, the off-balanced quietness of the apartment, the way there’s only one plate on the table. He looks at his phone but the screen is still black. He can’t even send a message, Jiwon would be in the middle of his flight.

The rest of the night isn’t much better. Even when he knows Jiwon has landed, there’s no texts. Maybe he was just busy.

He cleans up alone. Showers alone. Gets into an empty bed alone. And there’s still no message.

[Hey I’m going to bed now. Hope you’re okay over there. xh]

He doesn’t really sleep though. He can hear the traffic outside his window and it was always weirdly comforting to him, something to do with the mundaness of life continuing on regardless of how bad his day is. But it’s not working tonight, maybe it was only comforting listening to that sound when he had Jiwon’s warm body next to him.  

It’s 1:30am when his dark room lights up from a text on his phone.

[are u still awake]

[Yeah?]

He expects another text marathon but Jiwon ends up calling.

“Hi baby.” Jiwon’s voice sounds rough, exhausted and muffled, like half of his face is against a pillow. “You okay to talk?”

“Yeah.” He’s not sure why it makes him sad that Jiwon has to even ask.

“Sorry I didn’t message or call. Jin got pissed that I was on the phone so much and just took it. He wanted to pack all this stuff into our schedule before Christmas. We just got back from this dinner with a bunch of Japanese rappers. I’m never drinking again.”

He laughs to cover up his paranoia. “Yeah? Did you have a good time?”

Jiwon groans in pain. “I think there should be an age limit on alcohol.”

“There is.”

“It should be like, 30.”

He laughs for real this time. “What happened? Did you do something stupid?”

“No!”

“Didn’t dislocate any jaws today?”

“No, I did not.” Jiwon says bitterly. “We just did a few shots. I’m gonna be so hungover tomorrow and that’s when we’re meeting Doc.”

His ears perk up at that and a shiver runs down his spine. “Who?”

“Doc McKinney. That’s the producer they want to get for my album. Which isn’t even half written by the way, I don’t get why they’re-”

“Wait. Doc McKinney? The american producer?”

“Yeah? You know him?”

“YES.”

“Tablo met him at some company event last month. Thank god he can speak English. They think it’ll be good promo to have a big shot producer on my album but why the hell would he want to work with a no name?” Jiwon laughs then. “Imagine what’s going on in his head. From the Weeknd to me. What a joke.”

“It’s not a joke.” He says firmly. “You’re good on your own but if you got him on your debut Jiwon….that would be crazy.”

“Yeah I know. I’m not gonna put much into it though. We got Tablo, that’s enough.”

Out of the two of them, he doesn’t know how he ended up being the more ambitious one when all the talent was with Jiwon.

“Still try though, right? You never know where it’ll go. It’s always good to make some contacts in the music business. He might be handy when you get into the US market.”

Jiwon snorts down the phone line. “US market? Are you tripping? I’m not even in the Korean market.”

“You should aim high.” He says, smiling at the dark ceiling. “You have the talent and personality for it.”

“I love talking to you. My ego grows like three sizes bigger every time.”

“Good.”

“Hey you know what else grows three sizes bigger?”

He groans at Jiwon’s lame line. “Seriously? That’s how you’re going to change the topic?”

“Yep. That’s how I’m gonna do it.” Jiwon says, words getting more and more slurred. “What are you wearing?”

“Wait. Do you have your own room?”

There’s a bark of laughter down the line. “Yeah, I do. I’m not that much of freak Hanbin. I’m not you.”

He goes red, even though nobody can see him. “I have never done it in a room full of other people! What are you talking about?!”

“I mean, you like it when you think you might get caught.”

He stays silent, trying to think of an answer that doesn’t self-sabotage or reveal any of his other kinks.

“Am I right?” Jiwon asks with a chuckle. “I am, aren’t I? You are so loud. Remember that time in the carpark? I get so hard whenever I think about it.”

Of course he remembers that night. He remembers it so vividly that he can still smell the sweat on Jiwon’s skin, the hunger in his eyes and the way he always comes with that deep growl.

“Baby? You still there?”

His hand was already wandering down between his legs. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m just….”

“…thinking about it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. What are you wearing?”

“Puppy pyjamas?”

Jiwon groans. “Why do you have to be so fucking cute at a time like this?!”

“You asked! What are you wearing?”

“Snoopy.”

He laughs. “Well, why do you have to be so fucking cute too?”

“Snoopy smells like you.”

His hand stops in its track. His stomach does that nervous flip again.

“Jiwon….”

“Yeah yeah, I know. I’m supposed to be nasty and talk about how much I want to fuck you right now. But here I am telling you that I took your stupid t-shirt to Japan just so I can pretend I’m sleeping with you. Fuck!” Jiwon laughs at his own ridiculousness. “I can’t even do phone sex right.”

He waits until his breathing sounds normal again. “I….really want to fly over there. Like, right now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Miss me?”

“Yeah, I really do. It sucks being in this bed without you.”

“Well, it sucks being in another country without you. God, how lame are we? It hasn’t even been 24 hours.” Jiwon says in exhaustion before yawning. “My body is so confused right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t know if it’s awake or asleep. I’m half hard but half not. I really need to come but I’m too tired. And I miss you, so I’m sad, but I’m talking to you right now, so I’m kinda not.”

“You’re a mess.” He says with a chuckle, wanting to reach through the phone line to pull Jiwon into their bed. “What you need is sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

“I can’t sleep though! My dick is waiting for me to do something.”

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?”

“I don’t know? Do it with me?”

He kicks his blankets off and throws the puppy pyjamas on the ground. He knew this was coming. “Take your pants off. And Snoopy too.”

“….Okay.”

He waits for the rustling on the other end to stop before talking again.

“I want to hear you touching yourself. Can you do that? I want to hear all those noises you make.”

“Fuck…..you sound so hot talking like this.” Jiwon says. “I’m so hard right now.”

“Good. What are you thinking about?”

“What your mouth feels like. I wish it was here with me.”

“Just my mouth?” He laughs. ‘What would you do with the rest of me?”

There’s a soft muffled sound, like Jiwon was rolling over in bed. “Mmm, no. I wanna hear what you wanna do.”

He’s stroking himself with a faster rhythm now and as much as the words always make him cringe, he’s so turned on and out of his mind that it’s like someone else just took over.

“I kind of…..want you to fuck me backstage after one of your shows.”

There’s a deep moan through the phone’s static. “Keep going, babe.”

“Sometimes I watch you on stage and you’re so sweaty and aggressive. I always wanted to pull you behind the curtains and lick all that sweat off you.”

“Mmmhmm. Then what?”

“Then you’d push me on the ground and I’d complain that my knees hurt. But you wouldn’t care. You’d hold my jaw and make me open my mouth just so you can fuck into it until I’m gagging and begging you to stop.”

“Keep going keep going….I’m so close…”

His hand is so wet now and he can hear Jiwon’s erratic breathing through the phone.

“I wouldn’t want you to stop though. I want it to hurt. I want to taste you when you cum in my mouth and when you’re done, I want you to fuck me and fill me up so much that it drips down my legs…”

There’s a strained ‘fuck!’ through the phone line followed by that familiar raspy growl and whispers of his name. His own head is full of flashbacks of that night in the carpark, he remembers Jiwon’s eyes as he pushed in, so deep and slow that the stretch made him want to scream. It was an overwhelming mix of desperation, aggression and possession. It’s that memory that makes him close his eyes now and cum all over his hand with a drawn out moan.

There’s a few seconds of silence where all he can hear is their breathing but suddenly Jiwon starts laughing.

“What?!”

“Nothing nothing. I was just thinking of how much trouble you’re gonna be in when I come home.”

He smiles in the darkness, sweaty and aching everywhere. How the hell are they going to handle three days apart?

Soundtrack: July - Kris

[thepondonthemoon]

reasons why i hate humanity #1

Looking back on my childhood experiences, I can sort of understand where my..dislike.. of humanity comes from.. so this will be a ‘series’ of sorts focusing on those experiences (why? because im bored and i have nothing better to do). 

When I was 14 years old, I entered a toxic friendship with this girl...let’s call her Tiffany. Now Tiffany had a rough childhood with a dominating mother who she was convinced hated her because she wasn’t that great academically blah blah you get the picture. Tiffany claimed to have depression and anxiety. I say ‘claimed’ because she wasn’t ever really properly diagnosed with the disorders, though she definitely had some of the symptoms. Ok so here we have a sad, anxious girl who just wants a friend. Who’s that friend? Me. Alright, no problem there. Oh, but there was a problem. 

Problem:  Tiffany would place her needs and wants in higher priority than what I needed; in other words she dominated the friendship. She would call me names, put me down, degrade me, but then when I told her to stop she’d laugh it off and say that “it was just a joke, don’t be so serious!”. Ok, sure. As someone desperately trying to fit in, I started to reciprocate and call her names, put her down and degrade her since, according to her, it was “just a joke”. Haha. She told me to stop and proceeded to tell me, in full detail, how hurtful those words were, and how I should feel ashamed for talking like that to someone with depression and anxiety. 

Tiffany would complain on and on and on about her family situation and about how scared and anxious she was at home because of her mother, and so being the good ‘friend’ that I was, I listened. I listened because even as a 14 year old I understood how fucking important it is to listen to other people when they talk. But what about me? What about when I wanted to talk about myself? She would always loop it back to herself.

Example:  Me: You should watch Dragonball Z! It’s really cool and I really like Goh- Tiffany: WOW your parents are so lenient and wow that must be really nice huh.  Me: Well.. I don’t really like being at home though sinc- T: HAHAHA I wonder what it’s like to not want to kill yourself.  Me: ..Uh I wouldn’t know eithe-  T: I don’t care about your life!! Your life isn’t as bad as mine so stop complaining!!! 

Alright. Sure. I mean, this ‘friendship’ was very similar to my relationship with my mother so I was already used to that sort of treatment. So I kept going along with this.. (i cant call it friendship so im going to call it) thing... and it was okay for a bit. I mean yea, I was exhausted and empty and hollow but anyone would be after dealing with abusive relationships both in and outside home. I held on for so long that she started calling me her best friend. And as someone who didnt have any friends, I suppose she was my closest ‘friend’ too. 

But then one day I snapped. 

It was 8pm. I was exhausted as fuck on that particular day. She sent me a Skype message saying “Do you want to play Aion?” (Aion is a free MMORPG which we used to play together). Thing is, I dont decline things (blah blah im socially anxious and i feel bad when i decline blah blah) but on this particular day I knew that I had to decline, if only for my own sake. So I sent back “Sorry, too tired. Play tomorrow?” 

She messaged me back 2 hours later saying “I’m going to kill myself and it’s your fault. You should’ve played the game with me; I was feeling so sad and you just declined!” (this is paraphrased so yes, i couldve exaggerated the real message but this was what i interpreted from that message. maybe im being overdramatic. but the general gist of it was still that she was going to kill herself because i didnt want to play a game with her) 

Now here I am, mentally and physically drained from this toxic relationship with a person who refuses to understand that I am not her fucking emotional punching bag. And I guess my brain acknowledged that because all of a sudden, all the empathy just went woooshh flying out of me. 

Fuck empathy. Fuck Tiffany. I want to fucking go to sleep. Fuck off. 

But well, I cannot in good conscience ignore a suicide message. So I messaged back and tried to be the classical good friend who listens to your bullshit. Hahahahaha...ha 

10 minutes later, she sent me a video call, except her webcam wasnt working which was a bit awkward. So she explained what I would be seeing if the webcam was working. She told me that she was holding a knife to her throat, and she wanted me to see her kill herself since it was all my fault. 

Now here’s the fucking thing. ITS NOT OKAY TO BLAME YOUR SUICIDAL THOUGHTS ON A FUCKING 14 YR OLD GIRL, MUCH LESS YOUR SUPPOSED ‘BEST FRIEND’ OR REALLY, ANY HUMAN FOR THAT MATTER. THATS NOT OKAY. ITS BEEN 4 YEARS AND I STILL FEEL LIKE SHIT AND ITS ONE OF THE MEMORIES MY BRAIN DRAGS UP WHEN IM ASLEEP AND WHEN IM HAVING A BREAKDOWN ITS NOT OKAY.

Its not okay to tell someone that they basically almost committed a murder. 

and thats why i hate humanity. 

[bleep-bleep-richie]

"In a way I can’t return" REDDIE IF YOU CATCH MY DRIFT

like literally why'd you have to fuck me all the way up like this??? (but thank you so soooo much for sending this omg ok) (also, idk if this is what you meant bc im BAD at catching drifts)uhhhh major angst aheadcanon compliant up until the final showdown scene in the movie----------------Richie had rushed to Eddie's side as soon as It had thrown him against the wall and Eddie had hit the ground. He let the others deal with whatever the clown had turned into now. His only focus was on the boy laying completely still with his eyes closed. Richie dropped to his knees and gently placed Eddie's head in his lap. "Eddie, hey. Hey, open your eyes, look at me."Eddie didn't move for the longest minute of Richie's life. "Eds, please, you have to wake up. Please."Eddie's eyes shot open and he bolted upright briefly only to fall back into Richie, his back against Richie's chest. He breathed in with a wheeze. "I think," he sucked in another hollow breath, "my lung is punctured."Richie pulled Eddie practically into his lap, tightening his arms around Eddie's middle. He buried his head in Eddie's hair, his voice coming out muffled. "No, you're fine. You're gonna be fine.""Richie," Eddie wheezed. Sympathetic. Comforting."No!" Richie insisted, "everything is fine. Look, they killed It."It was true. The losers, now realizing something was terribly wrong with Eddie, were rushing over. "What happened?" Stan asked."My lung," Eddie struggled to explain, every breath hurting his insides. "Can't breathe.""He's gonna be fine," Richie said. "We just have to get him out of here." He looked up to Bev, the only one who knew how he really, truly felt about the boy in his arms. "He's gonna be fine," he repeated to her.Bev glanced at Bill, at Stan, at Mike and then Ben. She placed a hand on Richie's arm, the one still locked over Eddie's stomach, holding him in place. "Rich," she started. "No!" Richie yelled. "Help me get him up." He started to lift Eddie under the arms, only to have the boy screaming in agony. "Richie," Eddie hissed in pain as he twisted his torso to look up at his friend. "It's no use."Tears were slipping off Richie's nose now and onto Eddie's face. "You," Richie hiccuped a sob, "you can't, Eds. You just can't."The rest of the losers were sobbing as well, but Eddie's eyes never left Richie. He lifted a hand to wipe tears off Richie's cheeks, wincing. "Don't call me Eds."Richie laughed in spite of the situation, leaning into Eddie's hand. "Eddie, I... I should have told you. I love you, Eddie. You can't die because I love you.""Oh, Richie," Eddie croaked out. "I always knew. And I..." Eddie tried breathing in again, his gasps providing no oxygen. He went limp in Richie's arms.The losers enveloped the two boys, their combined sorrow echoing off the walls. --------------When Eddie woke up later, he had a terrible ache in his left side, a pounding in his head, and a mouth so dry it felt like he'd swallowed cotton. He squinted into the lights above him, and the first thing he saw should not have surprised him. Richie was sitting in a chair next to the hospital bed, feet kicked up on the bed, a near empty pudding cup in his hand with the spoon hanging out of his mouth. His head was turned towards the tiny television at the front of the room. Eddie tried to swallow. "Ri-" he tried, but nothing more would come out.It didn't matter. Richie sat up fast, pudding and tv forgotten, grabbed Eddie's hand. "Eddie Spaghetti!" he hollered. Eddie winced. "Oh, sorry," Richie said in a softer voice. "You're awake.""Yeah," Eddie groaned. He subconsciously squeezed Richie's hand. Richie grinned at him. "They thought you were a goner for sure, but I kept telling 'em. I kept saying, 'my little Eds, he's a fighter.' And here you are." "What happened?" "Pierced lung, just like you said. They got ya all patched up, though." Richie glanced towards the door. "I should probably call the nurse in. Your mom too. She's down getting lunch in the-""Richie, wait," Eddie interjected, surprised when Richie went silent. "In the sewer, when I thought I was... did you mean what you said?" Richie looked down at their combined hands, playing with Eddie's fingers. "'Course I did."Eddie smiled. His side was screaming, his head was on fire, his throat felt like sandpaper, and Richie Tozier loved him. It was a good day. ---------------------lol y'all thought i was rly gonna kill my son???? also, here's a disclaimer: i know nothing about puncturing a lung and how or if that can be fixed sooooo. im sorry if this isn't what you wanted buuuuut thanks again for sending it to me!!!!

[peachy10224]

spark (GOT7 yugyeom x reader angst)

(lowercase intended)

(i doubt this would make you feel sad cuz this is poorly written lol)

i’ll edit later cuz im super tired so excuse any mistakes :) currently 1108 words

you felt like shit.

your head throbbed and your stomach churned and you groaned. you regret going to the club with your friends and drinking way too much, but how could you not? yugyeom never seemed to have time for you lately. hell, he didn’t even act like he was your boyfriend now. when your relationship first started, it was all fun and full of excitement and romance. you both had that chemistry, and the rest of GOT7 thought you two were perfect for each other. but now, you two were almost strangers. you get it, he’s busy working and practicing dances and you know he’s an idol, but he used to always make time for you. he used to. now he barely responds to your texts, never calls, and you’re pretty sure you haven’t seen him in almost a month.

what went wrong?

you would like to know too. he used to be the sweetest thing, leaving dance practice a little earlier just to see you, cuddling you after a long day, giving you everything you wanted in a relationship. you adored him with all your heart, and he was one of the most important people in your life. you doubted you could function without him. both young adults seemingly head over heels for each other, it was your dream come true to have someone like him by your side. but apparently, after a period of time it was one sided love, because after almost one and a half year, yugyeom stopped loving you. at first you thought it was just a short phase and everything’ll be back to normal soon, but you were wrong. you kept reaching out to him, trying to get him back, but he was like a mirage, an image that seems to be there, but was just a figment of your imagination. so when you reached out, you grasped nothing, but cold, empty air. 

“was i too boring to him?”

“am i too ugly?”

“is it because i was too clingy for him?”

questions like that plagued your mind. it must be your fault. he was always the better one in the relationship, having looks, talent, kindness… he was the perfect boyfriend. but you? you had a bit of a temper, you were nowhere near as beautiful as him, you lashed out easily when you were pissed… you could see why he was distancing himself away from you. he was tired of my bullshit, you thought bitterly. you didn’t even understand why he dated you in the first place. of course he would lose interest. youngjae had texted you 2 weeks ago, saying yugyeom was spending a lot of time with a new trainee, but u brushed him off because you trusted your boyfriend. but now you’re pretty sure he’s not as faithful as you thought he was. you needed take your mind off things, so when your friends invited you out to drink, you immediately agreed. but now you regretted it, because now you had a terrible hangover. 

suddenly, your doorbell rang, the sound making your head hurt more. slowly, you dragged yourself to the door and flung it open irritatedly. it was none other than yugyeom himself, looking pristine as always, his beautiful face filled with mild concern. looking at him made you feel self conscious, suddenly aware of your wrinkled pyjamas and messy hair. “hey… you ok? your friends told me you were drinking a lot last night…” his eyes scanned your rumpled and disheveled form and you tensed, not wanting to say anything. 

there was an awkward period of silence.

you could probably cut the tension with a knife.

“why are you caring about me now? what about the last 4 weeks? you ignored me and acted like i was air, yugyeom,” you said with a croaky voice. he flinched when you said “yugyeom”. it was always “yugy” or “gyeomie”, never “yugyeom”. he scratched his head and looked off to the side, looking ashamed. it made you feel a little guilty, but after what he had done, you didn’t care anymore. “what the fuck, yugyeom. you ignore all my texts and calls and only come after like almost a month because my friends told you to? pathetic. i’m not surprised if you’re cheating on me.” yugyeom’s eyes widened at your harsh words. “no! i’m so sorry (y/n), but JYP told me to teach the new trainees and stuff and it just took up so much time-” “oh please, spare me the bullshit. youngjae told me you’ve been hanging around that cute new trainee girl. she’s so important that you would neglect your own girlfriend and ignore her while you flirt with some other girl, right? i trusted you. you were my boyfriend, for god’s sake! i knew you were fading away from me, little by little, but why would you do this to me? couldn’t you soften the blow by telling me how you felt?” 

you were close to tears now. yugyeom looked down in shame, not even bothering to argue against you. “i loved you, yugy. i loved you so, so much, and this is how you repay me? by ignoring me for a month to spend time with another bitch? are u fucking kidding me right now? did you really think i’m stupid enough to believe your excuses and act like everything’s fine and dandy? i am so, so disappointed in you right now, kim yugyeom. how dare you cheat on me and try to comfort me by coming to my place because my friends told you to. you never came when i told you to. you treated me like fucking air! i thought we were in love. but i guess i was wrong. i’m done with you. we’re done. don’t ever try to come to my place anymore. don’t try to text or call me because i’m blocking you. i’m sorry i was a shitty girlfriend, but when you get together with that girl, dont fucking break her heart the way you did to mine.”

you slammed the door in his face and sank to the floor, crying waterfalls, grasping your chest that seemed to have hollowed out. you could hear yugyeom banging on your door and shouting something, but you didn’t care anymore. you were broken beyond repair.

and just like that, your relationship fizzled out. the spark was gone. 

maybe love was all a big joke, and a lie that people had made up to try to fill in the hole in our chests. but love will just end up ripping our hearts out instead of filling it if it goes wrong.