#how about you pay me money bc I still can’t find a job and it’s been almost a year since I graduated lol

[moonjade]

Can my university stop sending me emails begging me to donate money to them ugh

[orangelionfurandtaxidermy]

Hi, I have some fur farm questions if you don't mind answering.

I've seen you mention that Sapphire is questionable. Why is that? Is it bc of the bleeding and CHS? If so, is Mansfield's Pearl also questionable to breed? And can CHS or bleeding issues be bred out or are they inherently part of the color?

On that note, do you have information on other color mutations that are linked to health issues?

Lastly, how does one get into fur farming? It seems really expensive to set up and buy all the foxes, and I struggle to find fur farms to follow online bc of how taboo it is let alone finding farms to buy live stock from, especially of rare mutations. Is finding farms to buy from more of a word of mouth + trust thing? And is mentorship of new farmers a thing or is fur farming too competitive for established farmers to want to do that?

Bonus: feel free to talk about your favorite mutations or anything else you wanna share.

Hi!

Yes Sapphires seem to all carry genetic illnesses. Some look to be only mildly affected, I’ve been following a few foxes friends of me carefully bred after they discovered some of their Pearls are Mansfield Pearls. So far the animals look to be doing ok, so it’s surely not a death sentence.

However I fear not all farms will be so careful about their breeding or using unhealthy animals because they want to get that special color. You’ve probably seen or heard about Mouse, the Sapphire fox Save a Fox bought from Northern Fox and Fur (a fur farm) several years ago.

Sadly Mouse did have severe CHS and had to be euthanised. There are very strong suspicions the farm bred “special needs” animals so the rescue could profit from the sob stories. Eventually Save a Fox bought out the whole farm. As of today it’s still about half filled with foxes because they can’t place the animals anywhere. Every rescue is full.

Mansfield Pearl alters the way in which blood behaves, foxes of this color seem very prone to excessive bleeding. I acquired this female Pearl Cross (suspected Mansfield Pearl Cross) “secondhand” a few years ago from the US. From what I see in the picture, it’s not a place I want to support. However this girl had already been culled for killing her whole litter of pups. When my tanner skinned the fox, they found that the bones were super weak and easy to snap. The skin had an unusual amount of bloodvessels and also the gums and teeth were quite funky. I’m still waiting for the cleaned skull.

In red foxes there’s not that many bad mutations luckily. Pale eyed foxes do experience sensitivity to the sun, we’ve seen them squint in direct sunlight. Mixing Whitemark/Ringneck/Platinum/Georgian (Snow) creates a lethal effect in homozygous form. Platinums can be anemic but it does seem to be worse in certain breeding lines than others. There’s probably others I’m forgetting but sadly there’s not much research being done anymore.

Finding a farm to work with is very hard nowadays. I somehow got myself a contact 5-6 years ago and it’s snowballed from there. The number of farms is very low now though, many of my own contacts have decided to stop farming because it’s essentially two full time jobs for the pay of half a job.

At least here in Europe it’s pretty much impossible to start up your own farm unless you have serious cash. No bank will want to provide you a loan because there’s little money to be made in the industry. Mutation foxes are very rare, most of what is produced is mink fur, arctic fox fur (‘bluefox’) and some raccoondog fur. You’ll find some Silver and Gold fox, but even those pelts are currently being sold in bulk at rock bottom prices to overseas buyers.

A picture of a Smokey Platinum pup for those who read this whole thing lol. This is a newer mutation for us, last year we had one male and this pup is one of his. Can you see the differences between this cage vs the one the female Pearl Cross lived in (she could barely turn around)? The cage in the background gives a better view of the size. There is also a nest box attached.

[vaaaaaiolet]

You move to the big city in search of bigger and better, so naturally, you get your first place.

You just don't anticipate the roommate that comes along with it.

f / m, strangers / enemies to lovers, slow burn, hijinks and shenanigans, leon is bad at feelings :( but don't worry because there will be so much fluff omg like a romcom, leon being a little shit to a sweetheart pipeline, and banter!! so much banter

inspired by the Japanese drama Good Morning Call!

catch up on earlier chapters // read on ao3

chapter 4: legalese, chimney sweeps, and a partridge in a pear tree

a/n: this is a REUPLOAD bc i've been told my first post didn't show up in tags 😭 thank you so much if you read the original upload, it means the world to me :,)

I KNOW I TOOK FOREVER but i was fighting to get this written omg. so many ideas. my head hurts. if you can find the spiderman scene we are now due for a spring wedding. andrew garfield peter parker >>> but as always, i love u LOTS!! enjoy <3

There are all kinds of upsides to having friends in high places, but when your connections are limited to the four walls of Wok and Roll Ramen Noodle, the best you’ve got is Hikaru Uehara: an unlikely junior-year friend, the owner’s son, and law student extraordinaire. Apron tied with a clumsy knot behind your back, you slip inside the tiny shop only to meet his sharp eyes across the bar. Oof.

Hikaru frowns. “You’re late again.”

“I know, I know, but I’ve actually got an excuse this time,” you try for a winning smile, peeking at the book he’s currently nose deep in. 

“It’s always something with you. Still house hunting?” He slides a bowl of kitsune udon across the bartop, “Number 43, table next to the creepy painting.”

He shoots, he scores! You catch the bowl and head off to the hungry patron.

“You know, my dad finished our basement yesterday and we’ve got an empty room now. I told him I’d ask you.” 

“Because you’re offering it free of rent, right?” 

A not-at-all-subtle grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. “What about an employee discount?”

“In your dreams, Uehara.”

43 asks for an extra pair of chopsticks, which you gladly deposit before taking the barstool opposite the shopkeeper’s son. It turns out he’s reading one of his textbooks for law class. Perfect. You roll up your sleeves and bust out your CEO face again. 

Here goes nothing. “I kind of got myself into a mess.”

“I don’t want to hear about the thing with your fern and the toilet again.”

“What? No, ew,” you wave all associated memories of that away, “no, seriously. I found a place, but I’m kind of…stuck in it. I need you go all Elle Woods and help me because I got scammed.” And also broken into, but you mentally plead the fifth and avoid self-incriminating yourself. “The lease is forcing me and this other guy to share the place and neither of us know how to get out.”

That gets his attention; Hikaru puts down his textbook. “Okay, maybe you do have an excuse this time. What the hell?”

The Sparknotes version is that you and Leon both filed for the same apartment within half an hour of each other.

Number 44: cold soba.

Your landlady’s as good as fled the country. Leon can’t reach his either. Hikaru sucks his teeth.

Number 45: miso soup.

You’ve both agreed to share the apartment for the three months of the lease considering the mini fortune of money blown on the deal.

“$6000? Really?” he gasps. “You do know how much this job pays you, right?”

“Then pay me more!” you shoot back, multitasking refills while balancing a full tray. 

45 again: miso soup on the house. Hikaru hands you a mop for your spill as you glare, but pulls out his laptop all the same.

“Well, if you’re fine with sharing the apartment for two more months…” he hums, typing away and whistling in approval as he finds your apartment listing, “your place isn’t bad at all considering the price. Plus, you can’t request to move back in just like that if we lodge a complaint and you win. What if this Leon turns out to be an alright roommate?”

His question irks you a little. Why would you want the apartment back with a weirdly cagey roommate who shotguns (emphasis on gun) the master bedroom? You’ve got reason enough to want a place of your own after the shitshow that was college last year. You wonder if you should lay out all Leon’s teen boy-esque rules about not touching his things, but Hikaru shakes his head the minute you open your mouth.

“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but maybe the best course of action is to wait the storm out.” 

He sounds sincere for once, turning the laptop screen around to show you a 37-page long document with your building’s name embellishing the top. His fingers just keep scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling, and dear God.

"That's the complaint form?" Your shriek rattles 45’s bowl worryingly.

“The first half, yes. Should I email you the second?”

Number 46 has the nerve to comment on your face looking more blanched than her bok choy.

That evening, you close the Wok and Roll with a heavy heart. Your phone pings as you double check the locks.

[Hikaru]: srsly ur best waiting out ur contract

Well damn, Hikaru. Friend of the year.

[Hikaru]: but since u asked (and rescued that last order)

[Hikaru]: i’ll still look for ways to get u out of there and on ur own

[Hikaru]: after finals tho

[Hikaru]: and once u start coming in on time!!

You pump your fist with a self-indulgent whoop outside the restaurant doors. Hikaru might be a pain to deal with sometimes, but he really did come through when he wanted to. Consider your now-thriving toilet fern that he put together a pot for, and soon with a little bit of luck, your eventual solo apartment life. 

You eagerly text back a thank you. Not even the winter air buffeting your face could put a damper on your mood as you skip back home to your apartment, and consequently, to Leon.

Or at least you thought you were. The apartment is lovely and warm and quiet when you unlock the front door. 

“Hello?” You call out for him, looping your scarf onto the wall hook.

No response. 

Leon’s bedroom door’s cracked open though, and the light looks off. It’s only 7 PM. Did he tell you he was going out? Crap, you realize how ill-prepared you’d been to not get his number or anything before you left. Rookie mistake. This roommate business is harder than you remember.

You toe off your boots and tiptoe toward the master bedroom. 

No messing in each other’s rooms, Leon’s phantom voice prods at the back of your head, but your concern for his wellbeing — okay fine, maybe you just want to peek at his stuff that’s so damn secret — takes over as you push his door open and slip into the darkness that’s making it impossible to see.

So you flick on the nearby lamp.

And then you scream. “What are you doing?”

Tucked in bed as snug as a bug and fully dressed, complete with shearling jacket, is Leon Kennedy with his face dirtied to high heaven. He blinks crossly as the lamp flickers to life. 

“Huh?” His voice is gruff with sleep.

“You’re sleeping…like that?”

He looks down as if registering himself for the first time. “I’m…yeah. Tired.”

“What happened to your face?” you ask, sounding reedy. “It’s filthy.”

“It is?”

You nod sharply.

“Oh? Oh yeah, yeah, I was cleaning the chimney.”

“We don’t have a chimney. Leon, we don’t even have a fireplace.” 

He fumbles out of his covers at your bug-eyed look. His room is absolutely freezing. “I have an explanation, I swear,” he starts as you back into the living room. Leon looks even grimier in the light: soot dusts his shoulders like powdered sugar, ages his hair salt-and-pepper, bruises the knees of his jeans. “Last night, I couldn’t sleep. There was something wrong with the heating so I went to check.”

Your room is perfectly warm. The house is perfectly warm.

He nods. “That’s cause I fixed the rest of the apartment, my room’s sti-” And then stops, narrowing his eyes. Whatever Leon did to fix the heating couldn’t have kept the temperature from dropping several degrees as he hisses, “You came into my room. We had a deal.”

“I had no idea you were even home!” 

“Doesn’t negate the fact that you broke the rule.”

Everything flips in a second; he’s glaring daggers, and the entire situation is so petulantly infuriating that you take his bait. The snow from your coat is making a melted mess on the carpet. Leon’s still in his stupid dirty jacket. The living room is half-unpacked from moving in literally the day before, and you’re already having your first argument with your roommate over stepping three feet into his bedroom.

“What is so goddamn important about the stuff in your room?” you finally explode. 

“You don’t get it.” 

“Leon,” you sound embarrassingly close to pleading now, “you wanted this – this whole sharing thing – but now you’re not giving me a chance?” You let your arms fall to your sides. 

Hikaru wanted to know if you could last three months. But as Leon stares at you, jaw working like he’s having a one-man argument inside his mouth, you wonder how you’ll tell your friend you couldn’t even last three nights. Frustrated tears prick at your eyes. You’ve never been good on the debate team back in high school. How long is it going to take for Leon to snap at you for that too?  

“It’s not you,” he says softly.

You smother a sniffle with your coat sleeve, making him sigh. 

“It’s not you,” he repeats, shaking his head to himself, “God, Hunnigan, you’re never this sloppy…” Shucking off his coat, he drops it on a box labeled Seasonal Decor #2 before heading back inside his room. He appears moments later with a box of tissues. “Take one before I get them covered in coal, yeah?” 

As you hesitatingly accept, you take in his form sans jacket. Leon is – alarmingly built, for one – covered in scratches. Bruises. Real ones. Fresh.

They’re littered along his muscled forearms, right up to the tops of his fitted black shirt sleeves. He’s so close to you that you even notice a silvery scar topping his right cheekbone.

“Are you…okay?”

Mystery swirls around your roommate like the soot he’s covered in. You ball up the tissue in your hand as his brow gradually smooths out, anger dissipating. 

“It’s my job,” Leon reveals. “Everything, this apartment, the stuff I’m keeping in my room, I…I work for the government, okay? This apartment was supposed to be home base for me. There’s stuff in there I can’t have anyone messing with. Stuff that could hurt you.” He pulls out a gleaming badge and lets you inspect it as your hand slowly flies over your mouth. “See?”

The gun in his pocket. The phone call. 

“But you’re not going to hurt me…right?” you dare to ask.

Leon’s eyes go wide, blond head shaking swiftly. “Never, I swear. Trying to do the opposite, actually, but that’s not going too great right now. I’m here to stop somebody from getting their hands on something that could hurt a lot of people.”

It’s a little surreal. Your once-burglar roommate turned government agent blinks at you like you’ll turn any moment, like you’re about to scream and run for the hills, so he can’t help but flinch as you reach for another tissue and whisper, “Can I?”

“Can you what? I can’t let you look at my things, again, I-” Leon tilts his head as you wrap the tissue around your index and middle fingers, and then rifle through the Seasonal Decor #2 box. “What are you doing?”

“Got it!”

You turn around, revealing a modest first aid kit in your hands.

“You keep that with your Christmas decorations?” He lets out a short laugh.

“I drop a lot of ornaments. Should really invest in plastic ones.” Fishing out a small bottle of ointment for Leon to see, you shoot him a redeeming grin. “So can I?”

He smiles. “You may,” Leon concedes, allowing you to settle him on the couch.

Leon’s bedroom seems to drop in temperature as the evening blends into night, falling to a bewildering 38 degrees while the rest of the apartment remains toasty. Ice might be frosting his windows, but thankfully, it only melts between you and Leon as you dab ointment into his cuts and he entertains you with sanitized anecdotes from his work around the world. The living room clock ticks to 10 o’clock as you two share the next best thing to dinner: a stash of rice crackers swiped from the back of the Wok and Roll. 

“There’s no way you’re sleeping with a jacket on.” You jut your chin towards his room, hissing in sympathy as he jerks from the alcohol sting. “It’s just as bad as sleeping outside in the snow.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Leon munches. He holds out a cracker for you to bite, an oddly intimate gesture that he doesn’t seem to put as much thought into as you, “it’s plenty warm out here.”

“And have you spend the night on a lumpy sofa with a million bruises on your back? That’d be evil, Leon.”

He shrugs. “I’ve slept through worse.”

“Yeah, because you were probably halfway across the world in some random jungle!” 

“It was just the one mission, come on,” he protests, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

You shake your head. The tail end of his bandage tucks neatly under his arm as you finish patching him up. It’s been an eventful night, and with each genuine laugh you share with Leon, the more you feel like extending an olive branch for everything that’s happened so far. You even feel a little bad for the Lena thing.

“Sleep in my room for the night. Take the bed,” you suggest.

“It wouldn’t be very chivalrous of me.”

“And calling dibs on the master bedroom was?”

“I needed space for my equipment!”

You lift an unimpressed brow.

“Touché.” Leon gives in, chuckling.

So it’s settled. You pull out a mass of blankets from a box next to the fridge (Winter Camp Sophomore Year EMERGENCY SUPPLIES) which Leon insists on expertly fashioning into a nest beside your bed. It’s piled high with pillows from his own bed by the time you come back from brushing your teeth. 

“It makes me feel better about this whole thing,” he admits when you laugh at it. 

It’s either him or his pillows that make you feel warmer sleeping on the floor than you did in your bed last night. Leon's unexpected warmth might be your Christmas miracle to make up for this apartment fiasco. The stars twinkle outside your bedroom window as you drift off to sleep.

Deep in your dreams, you miss the twinkle of something else too. 

A ping to be specific.

[UNKNOWN NUMBER]: Hiding him from me already?

back to the chapter masterlist...

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[kelseytheballerina]

Did you live at home before moving in with your husband? I am living at home as an early 20s woman and I still feel like a teenager but I don't have the means to move out yet. My parents also still see me as a kid and I don't know how to eventually take the leap and be on my own.

Not with my parents but with a different family member out of state. They took care of expenses in exchange for me helping out around the house so I could focus on school and not have to pay for housing. I was still very much a kid too for a while. Very very much so, mostly bc I grew up extremely sheltered and my entire existence was to be a good student and excel in my extracurriculars. Street smarts, life skills, things like that were never fully developed. For people like me, being with family will only enable you but at the same time you wouldn’t survive being thrown to the wolves so you feel stuck between a rock and a hard place.

I had to loosen the ropes on my safety net and force myself to grow up whether my family liked it or not. Setting my own schedules, stopped asking for so much permission, owning up to all my mistakes and learning how to take full accountability no matter how small something was (it’s hard to be taken seriously as an adult when everything is met with excuses and why something isn’t your fault). Getting a job and making my savings and credit score of utmost importance to me (they were taking care of my expenses so I just saved all the money from my job but if you can’t do that then save as much as you can), trying to find my own way and relying on them less and less, taking on more and more responsibility around the house and proving myself to be a can-do individual. Always making sure to stick to my word and honor my commitments. Standing my ground and being strong in my convictions because I actually did proper research and knew what I was talking about, learning to navigate tough conversations with firm but respectful language.

These are just some places to start but only you know where you’re lacking and what your shortcomings are. Write them down if you must and make your ‘grow up glow up’ a top priority. You should be a whole new person by this time next year or else you’re still being way too comfortable. When the time comes for you to move out, you’ll know it and you’ll be much more prepared.

[poppyandzena]

Yeah, Saige is very done for me at this point. Her willingness to editorialize the narrative just to support her abusive partners is disgusting.

Saige. Read the doc. Actually read the doc. Your words make it clear you didn’t. Because everything you say is barely applicable to what Spawn went through.

“I exchanged harsher words with my ex-spouse on occasion.” Yeah, and I’m sure Zena and Poppy did too- sorry you can’t have voice recordings of everything. You think Poppy/Zena would admit to harsher? Or even fully recognize it? If I recall, your own partners admit to making Spawn cry on multiple occasions. They just paint the story as “oh they cry in such a way to make me disassociate. So manipulative.” Hmm, bo red flags? To blame their kid for being driven to tears from their actions? Alright. Sure, whatever you say, Saige.

“If drawing boundaries and setting expectations is abuse, idk how you function with others.” This is just proof you didn’t read the doc more than anything. If you think having narrow (less than 10 minutes in some cases) windows for bathroom, food making, JUST GETTING WATER is boundaries and expectations, then you are delusional. And, more importantly, If you think ‘the kid’ should have to follow expectations/boundaries, but Zena and Poppy shouldn’t have to (the document makes it clear they didn’t- they skipped on dishes/chores, took up the kitchen way longer then Spawn ever did, and more), please detail why for me. I’d love to hear THAT excuse.

“I suppose it was abusive to have to check in before making purchases that weren't already budgeted bc they kept spending our income on shit we couldn't afford.” No, that’s not abusive, and also proof you didn’t read the document either. There’s a huge difference between ‘the kid’ and your ex/you- the kid had their own bank account/job/trust fund. That was only their money. Not Poppy’s. Not Zena’s. Your ex and you? Joint money, most likely. If Spawn was on their bank account/using Poppy/Zena’s money to buy things? Yes, completely reasonable to monitor and discuss buying things. The kid’s own money? No, Poppy/Zena had literally 0 rights to control that. You would tell a 18 year old that if their parents are trying to control their kids spending- you’d say “fuck them” I bet- you should in most cases. Why not Poppy/Zena’s kid? Literally just because it’s Poppy/Zena? The only way you could argue this point at all is if you could prove, actually prove, that the kid spent enough that it affected Zena/Poppy (by forcing them to cover for rent, utilities, food, something on Spawn’s behalf).

"Saige Alexis was an abusive spouse bc fae asked her spouse to do things for themself & not constantly expect faer to do everything for them” Saige. Just scroll through until you find Spawn’s chore list for one day. You articulate to me what is POSSIBLY left for Zena/Poppy to do. Spawn did everything FOR Poppy/Zena. Your precious partners are the ones that could afford to do more for their kid WITH A LITERAL, DIAGNOSED HEART CONDITION

I notice a distinct lack of mention of internet restriction. So just because they have physical and mental disabilities, Poppy and Zena had a right to completely restrict internet access? Restrict Spawn from friends and support systems? Reminder- Spawn is an adult that was paying bills too- paying for that internet. But they were still allowed to be punished and have it taken away completely? I have a feeling you and your ex spouse never turned off the internet for each other. “Oh but Spawn had a hot spot.” 10gb. That’s literally nothing. If it was enough to do anything? Spawn wouldn’t have had to go to the library for job applications. So please, give me an excuse for this one this time. Love to hear it.

Just… Saige, either actually read the document, or stay in your fucking lane. You talk a big game about not being believed on your abuse and experiences yourself, but when there’s an abuse victim that’s right there, right in from you, basically begging to be believed- you continue to just blindly believe your partners. You’re no better than everyone you have villianized for not believing you.

You don’t deserve awful shit to happen to you as you are a fellow human being. But you don’t deserve to put victims names into your mouth and minimize their stories just to try and validate your path and make yourself feel good about your life choices.

Read and actually learn or go away, Saige. Live in denial about your choices, or bother to learn your partners may not be these perfect, do no wrong people they try to pretend to be.

^

[ghosttotheparty]

random life updates for anyone interested:

- starting my last year of university next week; beyond freaked out bc idk what im doing with my life, but finding little mercies in the mundane to keep me sane. coffee, kissing my dogs nose, waving at babies in shops, etc. i have yet to start my dissertation but i have shifted my original plan from ai ‘art’ and why it sucks to the importance of having an open mind when it comes to dadaism and the idea of what art is in general. this is mainly due to lack of resources around generative ai in regards to the art community

- started a website for my artwork! still have to pay for the domain name, but i have a few blog entries and a portfolio and a page for commissions. i have to contact my aunt, who i did three commissions for this summer and who has yet to pay me, because i want to use the money from those comms to pay for the domain and starter inventory for my shop, where im hoping to sell prints and stickers

- travelled overseas by myself for the first time this summer, and got a (kind of) job! i actually enjoyed the flights (i watched bottoms for the first time!) and security was not as scary as it used to be. (is it bc im on medication now? probably but also the airports were fairly quiet (which was crazy bc i left from heathrow) and i had direct flights which was nice). i worked in a local art gallery and gift shop in retail and i got to help set up an exhibition and it was a rly great opportunity to meet artists and get experience in retail. i found that im fantastic at chit chatting with people and definitely have a chameleon effect w southern accents.

- got officially diagnosed with tourette’s. will i be writing another eddie w tics fic bc of this? mayhaps

- started digital art and have been working on it fairly regularly; still trying to figure out an art style but i think i might be getting there— i finally got an apple pencil (everyone say thank you robins grandma) which has been marvellous

- learned how to crochet; i cannot for the life of me read crochet patterns so ive only made a hat for my brother (using a youtube video as guidance), half a scarf bc i ran out of yarn, and a small throw blanket, but it’s v fun to just fidget while watching movies and stuff— im going to make another hat for my brothers xmas gift using yarn from my friend

- i found that i am crazy good at recognising voices; my grandparents listen to almost exclusively classical music so they started playing pandora radios during dinner while i was with them, and my darling grandfather would quiz me about who the artist was and what the song was called. i often would name the artist based on their voice (usually only knowing one song by them) but wouldn’t know the song and usually hadn’t even heard the song before. my grandpa was continually impressed. he’s my #1 hypeman

photos from my summer:

1. one of the commissions for my aunt; peter rabbit for her upstairs area with bookshelves.

2. my grandpa preparing some figs left by their next door neighbor; i found that my dislike of fig newtons is just my dislike of figs. but they were pretty.

3. went on a ‘moth walk’ with my grandparents; there’s an arboretum near their house, and some people showed up to listen to a moth expert talk about moths. he’d set up equipment to attract moths and it was sososo fun. this is one of the moths (i don’t recall what it was called, but the leader had his own nicknames for them all) that i got to hold. i also got to hold a firefly for the first time. it was magical.

4. my grandma is a quilter— this is her piecing together a small quilt that we made together for a friend of mine that had a baby recently.

can’t think of any more updates but i’ve realised that i’m spending more time on twitter these days than i am on tumblr so <3

[bewoken]

started as a little comment but turned into a rant

in !!!‼️MY EXPERIENCE‼️!!! as a black queer person, working with all straight white men vs all straight white women is literally so different. both of them make my anxiety fly through the roof and i’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop (which it usually does) but at least the women are slightly less likely to call you a slur to your face. they still will, in my experience, but it’s usually where you can’t hear it. i love pennsylvania. the prison that keeps imprisoning poc/queer people alike. i

can’t escape bc im not making enough money. and i can’t find another job, i’ve tried and sent in apps, went to interviews. i have a bachelor’s in psych and will literally work anywhere that pays more than $17/hr. where are all these jobs people are complaining that no one wants??? give them to me, now!!

also, when working with people with disabilities. it does not matter, the highest on the work hierarchy will be saying the r slur every other word. aides, supervisors, nurses. like, seriously? you work with people that have had that word used against them their entire lives to make them feel and seen as less than human, but you use it around and towards them like it’s nothing. fuck off with that shit. this is why you don’t make friends with people you work with bc it’s so easy for them to be a piece of shit.

and like, it’s not like i can actually report anyone for it. one day i was gonna report a fellow aide to the super for calling an individual the r slur but he came into our unit and had a whole conversation with one of the individuals about how he’s ’r-slur’ but not as much as the others since he can hold a conversation so that makes him better than the others. these conversations have happened infront of management. how is this place allowed to run? bc all of management are a bunch of old white people who do nothing but push paper all day.

[itsgivingautism]

01/18/24 — Zia rants about being autistic & physically disabled & chronically ill in a fucked ableist society & having to be dependent on their partner

Started to have meltdown over this & other stuff to my partner before he left for work…. I didn’t meant to have a morning meltdown. I found myself shutting down and feeling guilty before he left bc I can recognize it’s hard on him even when he doesn’t wanna show it. But needed a place to rant and ended up going off down below for a like an hour. I don’t want to open up but I made tumblr after not being on here since high school for an outlet for a lot of reasons, with support & encouragement from therapists to do so. But I also hate being perceived. I’m just so fucking annoying tho I somehow always bring attention to myself that I never want….. but I’m also learning to tell my story & share my experiences. As an autistic person late diagnosed who was severely abused throughout my entire childhood opening up, learning to unmask & not shutdown, understanding my own thoughts, feelings, & experiences is so fucking hard.

I am so grateful for my partner but god I wish I was independent. I wish I had the ability to take care of myself. I wish I wasn’t so fucking dependent on his love and support. I wish I wasn’t so needy, or clingy. I wish I wasn’t disabled physically and mentally. I wish I wasn’t so wounded & traumatized. I wish I wasn’t so chronically ill. I wish I wasn’t in autistic burnout, a state of prolonged cognitive decline that one average can last 2-10 years.

I wish I could get a job. Even working from home but my mind can’t even. I’m constantly age regressing and going across different timelines of my mind and getting trapped, constantly disconnecting from this current physical reality even when I seem like a part of it to others - but it’s just automatic masking as a trauma response. All a result of my CPTSD+autism+adhd

I haven’t been able to work a real job since 2020. I’ve been fighting to get the support & benefits I need but constantly being shit on. Having to go thru constant channels to prove how severe my issues are and then being told try this treatment first and when it doesn’t work its still somehow my fault. I’m sick of having to prove my disabilities & illnesses and then when I show how bad they are I’m being dramatic. But when I mask & show strength, I must be making it up. How could you be so strong about then? There’s no winning. Only losing. I don’t see a point in showing weakness or asking for help. But then refusing to and bottling it all up, that has lead me to deeply problematic bad spirals. I just want to be taken seriously by doctors & medical professionals. I hate this country.

I wish I was normal. I hate burdening my partner. Although I know he doesn’t want me to feel like one and he genuinely wants to help me, I also know I stress him out….

I am dependent on him financially while his job is fucking over their contracts, refusing to give him & his coworkers the raises they were supposed to get a year ago. Him and his coworkers have collectively trying to unionize for months (which is the only reason they actually didn’t get a pay cut which the company was tryna do even tho they were supposed to give raises last year) and ofc my partner has been the one leading the unionizing. (We joke about my radicalism really rubbing off on him)

I’m constantly trying to find ways to make money, which end up doing more damage to my body. He hate what it does to me. He wishes he could do more while stuck in his work contract. it’s a lot on him. And I feel like his life would be so much less stressful without me tho….. or at least if I could just be normal & healthy….

Even my friends point out that unless I’m talking about my emotions & trauma I don’t make any sense talking…. like burnout really shows…. It’s embarrassing constantly. I sound like a so clearly disabled most of the time. I used to exceptionally smart & articulate before this burnout. Ik they mean it accepting my but it’s hard when 90% of what I say comes out wrong. It’s hard when I’m trying to be supportive and it sounds like asshole shit bc my issues with speech & cognition. I want to be a lovely validating friend. Not the one they have to dissect my word vomit to find the love & support in foolish clumsily words. I’m technically hyperlexic so I can keep creating words but my other learning disabilities downgrade the quality & meaning of those words.

But I also only make sense when talking about my looping emotions & trauma is bc I only share what I can (the deeper stuff is vaulted by selective mutism & shutdowns). This is the shit going thru my brain, talking to myself about and looping constantly. Ofc it’s the only thing I can talk about. But even most the time I’m still not making sense entirely. But it’s all I can think about, talk to myself about, and it’s all the my brain is giving me permission to share about myself.

[izel-01]

Still haven’t been able to find a job, been applying and even reapplying hoping someone would contact me but nothing and I cant stand the idea of calling and getting rejected

So obviously I had to cancel some luxuries that I’ve once had and one of those being Spotify premium, I had the family plan, but with the price change and having no income I can’t have that luxury rn

So I canceled and my younger sister is acting like it’s the end of the world like? I already explained to her that it’s not a necessity sure it’s really nice to have it but if I can’t afford it I have to cancel it and when she woke up to the subscription being canceled she was not happy

She offered to pay, I kept declining bc I don’t think it’s fair that she would pay for something that I originally was paying for and last payment I asked our “ mother “ for to lend me some money ( I’m keeping track how much I owe her it’s not much but still I hate feeling like I owe people money )

Anyways our mother said we’ll talk later about it, my sister and her did talk about it without me ( which idc ) but they kept making “jokes” saying shit like “too bad for those without Spotify premium having to listen to ads” and honestly it was annoying but I ignored them not giving them the time of day

But it hurts cause like I know I can’t afford these luxuries but at least I have a roof over my head and a comfy bed to sleep but it was nice and I miss it but it’s not a necessity and I have having to depend on her for money even though I try not to ask for anything especially since she has to save money for that stupid parasite she’s gonna have but that’s for another day

It just sucks bc I’m the eldest I’m supposed to be the example but I can’t even get a fucking job - I refuse to go back to food service it is not worth my mental health and the pay was not enough - the second oldest doesn’t want a job which imo is fine bc she literally raised the youngest 3 but she doesn’t want to cook, do chores, or learn to drive. And it fucking pisses me off sometimes bc at least she has a purpose living here unlike me

I’m in the way and I know it even if this stupid bitches say I’m not I know I am bc my sister, my best friend, says to “just move out already” , “it’s not that hard”, “nobody wants you here”, etc and ofc it hurts cause the one person who has been through everything with me, who made me suffer (not her fault when we were little but now she should know better), the one who I consider my best friend/my other half is saying this stuff to me in my face

It usually happens when she gets really irritated or when she just snaps at me for any reason which happens almost everyday and I know I may be a bit too much (tough playing with the little ones or “butting” in stuff) but it’s how I show my appreciation and love and concern but she says it’s not my “business” or sum other shit calling me names

One time a while ago around Dec 2021 I’m pretty sure after we had another argument she said something along the lines of “if I was tired then I would not get up cause nobody expects anything from you” and that really hurt I don’t remember the context of what was said I just wrote it down in my notes just her saying that

What do I say to that? How do I move on from that? I obviously didn’t forget but I’ve not forgiven her either. I cook for her I clean after her I try to help her in any way I can I defended and still do to this day from our “mother”- I remember once around middle/high school when our mother was yelling and was about to hit her and I stood out in between them saying she’ll never hit her again and this bitch (the mother) laughed and called me a hypocrite I’ll never forget that and to this day she says she doesn’t remember funny how the most terrible moments of my life she claims of having no memory of and ok my brain is shit cause I physically can’t remember shit at all but I remember that clearly tears in my eyes, scared to death of standing up to her, scared of her but I knew I had to protect my little sister

Anyways it just sucks that I already know I’m a miserable example of the eldest child, but for them to keep reminding me like i don’t know already doesn’t make it better and I can’t tell my supposed best friend bc she is part of the reason why I’m slowly losing my will to do anything and I’m pushing myself everyday trying to cook more help with chores even more to show that I do appreciate them letting me stay here bc according to my mum I’m “ no longer her obligation”

Like I stopped being her child once I turned 15… but she would never dream of doing this to the younger 4 but it’s fine bc at least they have a fighting chance in this cruel world I really want the best for them bc they didn’t asked to be here but it must be nice to not have to suffer what I did

Me and the second oldest like to joke saying we were the free trial and the youngest three have it easy, and jokes aside they do. Like in that show “Good Place” when the main character said sum about her mum sum along the lines of “ if she could’ve been a better mum for ____ then that means she could always change but I wasn’t enough for her to change” and that fucking hit me like a train… cause she did change not for her, not for us, but for them her 3 precious angels (about to be 4) and that “loving husband” of hers, don’t get me wrong that’s a good thing but it hurts seeing them be treated how I deserved to be treated to get that “family” I will always yearn for, it’s still not good tho but hey it’s wayyyy better than my childhood at least I hope it is bc then it would all have been for nothing

[gavinsmg24]

Hehe yes I will try to watch more soon baby! Let’s see if I can do my lil summary before I read yours. So yes we watched first episode. Jimmy! Not Saul! Then 2nd episode. Jimmy saves all of them! Yay! Close and broken limbs. Traumatizing!

Yes you’ve been talking about chuck n Jimmy! So yes chuck has some weird disease? Where electronics like phones and things make him ache or pass out? Like the scene with space blanket and getting the paper

Jimmy finding the family is wild! But also it was partially his fault? But he found a decent way of fixing it. And maybe even nacho will understand and not wanna fuck with him? Bcuz Jimmy was right! He was sloppy! Why is the van still dirty! Dummy! Hehe. And Mike! Helping Jimmy by believing him! Woah! Mike believes Jimmy! 😁

Oh! And so sad that that family is so stuck up that Jimmy found them and still didn’t want him! That’s. Crazy! He had to get something out of it right! It’s only. Sort of. Fair 😖 he was gonna get some outta it from his scam. But! Now he’s got money and made a billboard! It sucks bcuz yes the things he does are scams but the big company won’t even let him use his name! Chuck helps people for the good of it. Jimmy does it but mainly to Get paid. But really that’s why yo ur right. They are both reasonable. Like. Chuck is what people want others to be like. But Jimmy is who everyone is. Living to better himself. Which isn’t bad! He wants his own law business! And he’s gonna get it!!!

Aside from all the things you’ve been saying about the show being good. Plot good. Funny and suspenseful. But also telling a story even when there isn’t dialogue. Yes! Like there’s a scene where Jimmy is in his office and pulls out his couch bed. But then oh! He’s got a customer! So he has to put it right back. All for it to be! Nacho!!

Another wild scene!! Jimmy calling nacho at pay phone and oh god! Car can’t start! Two men!?! Nachos gang? Who is it! What!! The cops! They do a really good job at making you second guess what’s gonna happen hehe. The ally scene I mentioned with the watches. Hehe. All good!

Yes!! Hehe I can Definitely see how someone could pause and not realize! Bcuz there’s good scenes like that! 😂🙈 and! I love talking about this stuff! I love good movies n shows and getting to talk about then is even more fun! Sharing the experience and extending that feeling by discussing! I could do that with you forever 💘💕

And yes the chuck stuff is interesting. Like It could be mental and what he sees n feels may just be him? But it could also be legit. And either way. It’s so odd that it still is interesting. Chuck getting the paper and seeing Jimmy is doing similar antics. Grr. If only chuck knew that Jimmy was trying. Like it’s such a kick in the balls that the wife of the kettle mans said your the lawyer you higher when your guilty. Which yeah but also! They were!! Hmph!

And your right! If Jimmy was bad he would’ve left the twins to die. But he doesn’t want people to die. He just wants to achieve his goals and his golden tongue is his skill! Chuck is judgmental but has a right to be but also Jimmy also has a right to live his life! He messed up in past but this lawyer stuff is better than like. Real crimes

And he is a good brother! He may not be the only person chuck has. But it seems like it. And he brings him food and such hehe. But yes it’s like they’re the same but different in so many ways

And yes! I like when he gets his head in the game for a bit and does his routine. Convincing that other guy to better deals for his client. The day to day coffee and sticker issues with Mike hehe.

And yes! Nacho is interesting. Someone who seems like he’s a higher up gang member but stays under tucos crazy wings. Will nacho keep messing with Jimmy! Well see!!

I’ve responded to the BCS big post now! I hope you enjoy! I know this will spark more talking about it. And that’s okay! I love you speaking your mind! 🥰💕 it truly makes me so happy!

[bandsanitizer]

okay but lowkey this really about just. the experience of going to school. doing good in school. being told you need a college degree to get the jobs you want and pay you want and all the things you want to do. and so you finish high school. you did great in high school. you realize that it’s not just about getting into college; you still have to go and finish that to. so you study and your work and along the way you have a little bit more time for a social life beyond just school. and you do a little less good in school. not because you suddenly got stupid but bc you’re studying to pass, not to be the best. and you finish college. and you have a degree. and all along the way you kind of only picked up minimal job skills. none of which really help you with finding a job. and yeah you have this degree. in something that matters to you. or maybe it doesn’t really. but it’s something. but it’s not just a degree that takes to make a career. it’s not just the knowledge. people tell you it about loving what you do, doing what you love. but you also just spent the last 17 years of your life more in school than anything else and you don’t exactly have plans for becoming a teacher. and somewhere along the way you realized that whatever you choose to do for your career will be just that. it’s the same thing you’ll spend the next several years/decades doing and spending most of your time doing. and it’s like I LOVED school. math class and english was great. I enjoyed school. I truly did. but I also went to college and realized that as much as I loved school, doing it for that many hours a day for that many days in a week for that many weeks in a year for that many years… there are things to enjoy outside of it. that as great as it was, there’s hanging out with friends. there’s spending time with family. there are hobbies and just sitting down a watching a youtube video. and none of that means I didn’t want to do school or that I hated school. it’s just, not my number one thing to do. it’s not the thing i love doing the most. it’s great, but I enjoy a lot outside of it. it along with everything else I do is what makes me happy. not just school or friends or family or music or whatever, but all of it. together. and it’s so hard to communicate that sometimes in the context of career instead of school. that time and money are not the only trade-offs in life. that the amount of “happy” I don’t get from a stable job that allows me time for a social life that gives me happiness, isn’t a net loss compared to pursuing my dreams of being a lyricist. and blah blah blah i know the whole “well maybe that post isn’t for you” but like. the amount we push people to be 100% happy and fulfilled by every single aspect of life, rather than understanding you can’t be more than 100%, you cannot have more than 100%. it’s about how it all comes together. and I do think people can fill that 100% with happiness from things and places in different percentages from the way others might have. and if it’s your job that makes you happy as hell I fucking support that. I love that for you.

the time will pass no matter what, sure, but the responsibilities and expectations of you as a fresh adult of 18 compared to you at 28 are probably different. and I think the idea that people should just “go for it” undermines the costs that exist beyond money and time. I think the mindset that you have to love your job, that you have to be in a career that fulfills you so greatly, ignores that… you are not your job. as much as you aren’t just a parent or friend or sibling or child… you aren’t your job. your life and happiness is no more measured by the career path you do or don’t take anymore than the family you do or don’t build by social norms or otherwise. if you want to get that doctorate? go for it. it’s never too late to try. if there was a dream for that once, but evaluating the life you have now, it’s not exactly the dream anymore? that’s okay too. I don’t think the idea that we don’t strive for big and great things should be seen as settling or a limitation. dreams and goals come in all shapes and sizes. none of them are less important to those they belong to.

[runfast-runfar]

Life Lately

1/29/2023

✨ life has been very up and down lately. Long story short, my current therapist who I love so much, said her supervisor will only allow her to continue working with me if I get higher care help with food stuff. So I did and have a dietician and an Ed therapist which I’ve been doing for a month now, but I literally can not afford it. I’m spending almost $600 a week (and making $800 a week) and so I can’t save any money, can’t pay off my credit card, can’t buy groceries consistently… it’s just added more stress not really resolved anything. Plus the two new therapist I am seeing I don’t really like very much, they’re not telling me ANYTHING I don’t already know… it’s that I’m not ready to fully recover. And I hate that if I’m not, the way the system is set up is to have the therapists you do have have to stop working with you to encourage “higher care” but if I can’t afford basic specialized care… how tf is higher care an option??! Ugh. It’s a mess.

I have my therapy with my long term therapist I love on Tuesday, and I’m going to talk to her about it all. I’m really REALLY hoping we can find a way for me to do my best alone and then still work together (she’s not licensed yet, she’s an associate hence having to follow her supervisors authority to a T). But I will be crushed if I can’t see her, but I genuinely can’t afford more than 1 therapist a week and i don’t want to see either other therapist over her.

✨ anyway, that’s the shitty stuff. But other things in life are pretty positive atm! Work is going well, and I am liking it as much as one can like a level entry, out of college in a field they don’t particularly want to be in, as much as could be expected lmao

But I did speak to my manager and put in some boundaries with my available work hours (I was pulling 10-12 hour days bc of my commute) and so I now leave the office at 4 instead of 5:30 three days a week cutting almost 3 hours off my work day on M, W, and F’s which has been SO needed!! Proud of myself for asserting those boundaries tbh!

✨ I went running last weekend for the first time in almost 3 months, and it actually went great! Definitely slower and that is hard to come to terms with, but I went out again this morning for another 30 minute run and I am trying to just remain grateful running is back in my life!! And I am going to try running 3 days a week for 30 minute sessions for a few weeks to see how it goes, then increase it slowly if it goes smooth!! 🤞🤞

✨ some yummy foods lately I’m obsessed with; it looks gross but is SO tasty… mashed banana with maple syrup, pb, and cinnamon on top of freshly made bread!! And then I had steel cut oats for the first time yesterday and omg game changer!!!

✨ thea is her usual, perfect, adorable, derpy self (ignore my mass pile of stuffed animals)

✨ my brother is hopefully getting a job he’s been interviewing for for a month in the next week or so, and if he does we will be looking to move out in the next month or so!! (Hence needing to be able save money/have an income…) bc I need to not live at home anymore.

✨ speaking of saving though… I did have the plan to buy myself a ps5 when I officially landed my first big girl post college job, and they just got restocked so I bought one!!! So now I reallyyyy can’t afford therapy lmao 😅 I mean I can for $110 a week with my one therapist, not $600 a week for three lol

So that comes on Wednesday so next weekend I know what I’ll be doing all day Saturday and Sunday lmao

I bought the new ratchet and clank game and then also the last of us part 1 (the show is SO good!!) and I’m so excited!!

✨ I went to the humane society last weekend and then again this weekend and it feels SO good to be going back! I hadn’t gone since September of last year due to the new job and just the anxiety and sadness around some of the animals there for so long. But I loved getting to be back! I walked this 4 month old husky named Zeus, and then Oso I TLC’d and did some mental stimulation games and he’s such a sweetie pie ugh I love them all!!!

✨ today has been a nice, somewhat lazy day! Slept in until 8am and then went on a 30 minute run, then stopped at the farmers market for a few things, came home and did a 30 minute intervals and arms peloton class with Robin Arzon :) Then I watched M3gan (lol wild!), and now I’m watching Get Out while drawing in bed with a few candles lit!

✨ not thrilled about the work week ahead, I appreciate having a job a lot but I am definitely only planning on staying at this place for a year or 2 max and then I want to segue back to social sciences bc tech is not for me long term!

✨ I want to watch one more “scary” movie (or like thriller type movie like M3gan or Get Out) tonight so any suggestions I would love! :)

✨ well, I hope you’re all doing well, and have a lovely Sunday to finish up your weekend!!

[luca-he-they-chaosboyyy]

Me- * tries to explain to person my current hyper fixation.* (Which is researching and formulating my own ideas, and opinions on the economy and the system of money and belongings and how the system was built to keep people broke so the rich become richer, basically feeding off the poor like vampires. Like how society was built to thinking if you don’t get an education and go to college than you have no other choice to do a 9 to 5 job bc anything else would require lots of money you don’t have and talent you don’t believe you have. And how college was built to pull money out of people even farther by putting young people in debt bc they don’t know any other way. Oh and the idea people put in everyones heads that if you don’t get an education and college then your less than and stupid and you’ll do nothing with your life. And 9 to 5’s are pointless because they destroy your mental and physical well being because nobody there actually cares about you, they can fire you on spot and you would have to quickly find another 9 to 5 if possible. Also even though your putting your full effort and exhausting your physical and mental health, a lot of times it’s still not enough to make a living, because there really not paying you enough. But now you ether have to pay for medications for your physical pain and your fuqed up mental health and go to therapy or “toughen up” and ignore your mental health, get a 2nd job further messing up your mental and physical health. Then there’s if you really mess up your physical health you might have to get surgery or just be stuck in constant pain, and if you can’t afford the meds well your screwed. And how society has put in your head all these things you “need” but really there convinces or you just don’t need them at all. Which puts it where your paying more, renting more, ect. Like solar panels would save a shit ton of money if you can even afford a house. Bc apartments aren’t going to do it, it’s a part of the system. And if you really think about it, all those house/apartment bills your paying for rn can be replaced with building your own systems of heating, lighting, water system, ect. Yeah it would take time, a little bit of money, but it would be worth it once you no longer have to pay those bills. And with some creativity, those cost to make those systems can be next to nothing. And how I could really build my own home and get my own food by planting, growing my own food. And I’m a vegetarian so I won’t have to worry about the “not so good parts” about getting your own food. And while doing all of this, I can sell food and make things to sell online to be making money. The only cost I can think of to pay for is insurance, Wi-Fi and phone service, everything else is escapable. And while doing all of this I can make a savings account and go into investing and stocks so I’d be making alot more money than I’d be spending overall. Making the economy work for me, instead of me working for the economy. Because life wasn’t always like this. We didn’t always have electricity, air conditioning, heating, washers and dryers, ect, ect. And this thing that we call money, that is paper with a presidents face on it that controls the system, society and economy, the thing that has SO much value didn’t always exist ether. It’s a form of control. It’s a part of the system too. There was a point in time In which everyone worked for themselves. BUT it’s finding the right way to do it that, that stupid little piece of paper can’t control you. And even if you don’t want to live like that forever, you have less now so you can have more later. Because people lived without all these extra things before, why can’t you now? I could go on even more about this for days. This is only a small portion.)

Person- Everyone knows this. You seem to have a very negative view of things. Why not be positive?

Me- If everyone knew this, it wouldn’t be a system and I don’t think would have 9 to 5 jobs. And it’s not really negative, it’s how it is. Even if it was, yin and Yang. A balance between positive and negative, you can’t have one without the other. Like unfortunately you can’t have love and happiness without heartbreak and pain. Like if you had all the love in the world, your family loved you, no problems, you had a loving partner right off the bat that treated you right, well you’d take it for granted. You don’t know lack of love, so you don’t appreciate it bc you’ve never not had it. And you can’t constantly be happy bc it’s not possible, bad things happen, it’s apart of life. We are human, we have emotions, we get hurt. If you cover up those problems with positivity, well that’s toxic positivity. Your not fixing the problem so it will build till you explode. Constantly positive, never negative is basically putting a mask on with a smile painted on it while your hurting but you insist your not, that everything is okay, everything is amazing. And without negativity, positivity can’t exist. Think of it like this, it’s kind of like being nose blind to a smell. You get used to smelling it for so long that you can’t smell it anymore. So if you feel happiness for so long, it’s no longer happiness, it’ll fade into calm, then into numbness. Like when something makes you happy, you feel a shift in your emotions, you feel good, bc before you didn’t feel entirely happy. You felt some sort of other emotion. Emotions wouldn’t exist without alllll emotions. Positive and negative. And if I just covered everything up with “positivity” just said everything is going to work out without fixing the problems, trying to figure out the problems to fix and working on those issues, well I’d end up homeless on the streets. I’ll stick with my yin and Yang. I just won’t talk about my expression of yin and Yang with you anymore. If someone isn’t there with you through the negative, don’t let them be with you through the positive. They can’t have one. If your going to be with me, your going to be with all of me. Because I’m human, just like you. Just you have a mask on. One I can see straight through.

Person- it’s people’s choices. And there convinces, people need them. And you can just be happy, it’s a choice. That’s wrong. Just be positive.

Me-*gives up bc this is now pointless, nothing will be able to explain how this mindset is destructive to yourself and others.*

(Based on true story, not exact. And I’m not leaving this person bc this person is from a different generation so set with different mindsets and beliefs instilled into them by society that’s not easy to brake even if the person wanted to. Bc questioning everything you’ve ever known isn’t easy. The person means well, and is a good person just society/system sucks ass.)

[har-rison-s]

mask & seek: 11

batman x fem!reader

based on: Hello! May I request Battinson x SpiderWoman!Reader fic where she's from the MCU but then she ends up in Battinson's universe and meets him? Maybe he doesn't trust her at first but once she saves him from something, he relents then begins to trust her and maybe then a relationship ensues?? Thank you so much and have a great day!! ❤

author's note: woohoooooooooo. have you guys seen moon knight??? I’m kinda only watching for steven, cause with the third episode the show lost its quality to me. but all the episodes haven’t been released yet, so I’ll try and not to judge it as much until then. but! I do love steven. and it’s taking such a huge effort in me to not abandon this story and start writing for him. god, it’s so hard. but I love bruce. I should also finish visitation hours… and finally update your good will bcs st4 is coming out in more than a month but omg. I just can’t, I can’t tap into steve. christ. I hate my procrastination and not finishing stories. im sorry for it all. happy reading!

main masterlist

bruce wayne masterlist

part ten

word count: 4.7k

warnings: nothing really i think

gif credit goes to owner!

“so, y/n, what do you do? besides the vigilante night shifts.” alfred asks. ah, the usual question she was just waiting for. sat around the very table bruce said he and alfred have meals at usually in the beautiful hall, y/n feels welcome in the company of these two men. though she can’t escape the feeling that she’s having a very important, formal meal with them, and that this is a test of some sort.

the sun up right at its mid-day peak shines through the gothically-decorated windows of the hall, breaking through in yellow and orange rays, which tickle her skin and eyes. she scoots over to her left on the very fancy chair and clears her throat as she does so, not wanting to raise an alarm in either alfred or bruce. “i’m a barista,” she answers nonchalantly, a light smile on her face, “at, uh… saint jeremiah’s.”

alfred nods. suddenly y/n feels awkward about her workplace. she doesn’t know what bruce and alfred do as work that pays all their extremely expensive bills for living here, but it must be something that pays big time. they can’t just live in an urban mansion like this, make all these weapons, tools and vehicles, and suits for bruce and now her, too, without a well-paying job. and it’s hard to find those in america if you don’t get lucky.

but, as she found out from bruce, his father was a rich and well-known man here in gotham, and bruce inherited all the money and, she guesses, reputation from him. so perhaps it was just his luck to be this… wealthy. she can’t say she’s not a little envious of that. if her parents had been rich and she could have lived in a mansion like this, woah, her life would have been a lot easier. and she appreciates all that bruce has done for her so far, she sees now that he does it out of the good of his heart. he really cares for her.

but taking her background, her life, her family circumstances, she still feels weird about it. partly she feels like it’s all not serious enough, partly she feels that she doesn’t deserve it, and another part of her thinks bruce is doing too much, and perhaps he even wants something in return. but it doesn’t seem that way. after she told him the truth about how she’s wound up living in gotham, there’s no asking in his eyes anymore. there is curiosity, but not the kind egoistic and ill-meaning men have. best believe y/n knows that look well.

“ah, the one right by the courthouse, is it?” alfred asks, his voice full of genuineness, and y/n nods. “must be a pleasant crowd that comes there, then?”

“mostly yes,” y/n answers, “though, because this is gotham, mornings are much better than the evenings. not to say we’re all morning people, but there’s less of the dangerous types around in the early hours of the morning.” she explains. alfred nods again, and bruce feels like he’s entered the conversation once again. he’s been coming to and fro, slipping in and out of talking and listening. not that he does that on purpose, his thoughts are just racing all the time. and watching y/n converse with alfred is a sight he never knew he couldn’t get enough of. two of the most important people in his life, and it’s safe to say they’re getting on well. it makes his heart swell.

“there should be some security with the courthouse and everything, no?” bruce asks her, slightly worried.

y/n looks at him with her bright eyes, feeling his concern by the look on bruce’s face. “well, there is, but they’re mostly looking after the courthouse,” y/n tells him, “since there’s always demolishers and trouble-makers around, they’re pretty busy.” she sighs, her eyes now falling to her plate and the fork she keeps moving around it. “if i wanted the attention of the world on me, i’d just put my skills and abilities to use when those types come around, but since that’s the last thing i want, i don’t.” she admits.

alfred hums. “must be hard to keep that restraint,” he says and y/n nods along, “bruce tends to forget himself in that aspect, he especially did at the very beginning.” alfred looks to bruce, and he gives his godfather the look of annoyance and disbelief. y/n chuckles, but seriousness remains like a veil across her face.

“i can imagine,” y/n says and glances at bruce momentarily before continuing. she knows that alfred’s put him on the spot, sort-of, and he doesn’t enjoy being exposed like that. so she continues, “i used to have that when i first had my powers, it was in high school.” she feels comfortable enough sharing with alfred. she looks to the older man, finding the look in his eyes very comforting. “used to hate P.E. with all my body, and i still do. hated the entire concept of it, couldn’t do anything properly, hated myself for it, you know.” she leans with her back into the chair. bruce admires the look in her eyes while she talks. “but as soon as i got my powers, i could do anything. i suddenly had incredible reflexes, coordination, strength, speed, agility—everything,” she reminisces of that time, memories playing back in her eyes like a slideshow of pictures, “and suddenly i could get good grades in P.E., i could even excel and be top of the class, even go on competitions. but i couldn’t, couldn’t i? it would have been wrong.” y/n sighs and looks to her plate again. “so i stayed little ole, helpless, weak me. had to put on quite the performance for the last two and a half years of high school.” she sits up again.

bruce feels for her. it’s not like his skills in fighting came over night, it was alfred who taught him everything, but he knows what that’s like. he knows people probably assume two things—either they assume he is good with his fists and is sporting quite the figure underneath the suits he wears on those rare occasions out in public; or they assume that he’s just a weak man hiding behind his father’s power and money who couldn’t raise one fist to fight for injustice or himself. but he can’t exactly show those skills in combination with his public persona, can he? he and alfred would be exposed immediately once people connected the dots.

“i guess it’s different for you,” alfred says kindly, matter-of-factly, and y/n picks up immediately on how he means that. she nods, “high school’s a tough time, as i hear it.”

“you didn’t go?” y/n asks in wonder, thinking how that would be possible for a man of his character and knowledge. alfred chuckles.

“oh, i did,” he says, “just not a public high school.” he clarifies and sends y/n a wink. she chuckles at herself and bruce grins at that faintly.

“me and alfred went to the same one,” bruce butts into the conversation again, turning y/n’s attention to him. she raises her eyebrows in a tell-me-more manner, “blackheath high school in england.” oh? bruce keeps getting more and more interesting with each thing that he says. how interesting, y/n thinks.

“your father did, as well,” alfred adds, “that’s how our families got to know each other. me and your father were close as brothers then already,” he makes a smile at bruce. his godson nods at him, feeling a bit on the spot again, as he always does when his father is the topic of any conversation. even in light-hearted situations like this one. he always feels some sort of pressure or loom hanging over his head at the mention of him, “what about you, y/n? your father have any friends he still keeps close contact with?” alfred looks to the woman, but she looks away, her eyes widening for a few seconds as she thinks of the best way to handle this answer.

“oh, i wouldn’t know,” she says with a slight shake of her head. bruce’s ears prick up more at her words. she’s never talked about either of her parents before, and neither has he asked about them. the topic’s never really come up before, and now it has. her eyes have a glaze over them that bruce can’t exactly place, “never knew my father.” she shrugs.

alfred feels awkward. “my apologies. i didn’t mean to bring up anything you don’t want to talk about.” he tells her immediately. y/n shakes her head fiercer now, she doesn’t want the man to feel bad about his innocent question.

“it’s fine,” she assures him, “it’s not taboo or anything.” she clarifies. “a lot of kids have grown up without a father, and i’m just one of them. i only ever had my mother.” y/n sighs, and her posture changes again—bruce notices—she sinks into her chair as though to close off from the two men, from this conversation. it’s not exactly intentional. “up until a point, she was working a lot of… different jobs,” y/n continues, and bruce sees her eyes and face having a certain expression. he can’t place it, again. perhaps because it’s emotions he’s not had to encounter before, “to raise me, to pay rent. hasn’t always been easy.”

she’s not telling him everything, obviously, it is her intention, and he realises that. he respects it. but there’s something about her mother, something really integral that she’s not revealing to him yet. perhaps she never will, and perhaps it should stay like that. if it’s truly too troubling or painful for her, he won’t push it. but something—perhaps that sense he’s picked up from her—is telling him it’s important to the character.

and now he also realises why her attitude towards money is what it is. she feels awkward and imposing to accept his money, his kindness, his gifts to her. and no wonder. she did tell him “because of how i grew up, and some other things”, if he remembers correctly. that conversation happened just over an hour or two ago now. and their conversation last night, about the clothes and underwear, and even the ice cream. it’s hard for her to accept all of that for free. perhaps she feels undeserving of such kindness and gifts free of charge—bruce would disagree; in his eyes she deserves much more, what he’s given her already is the very least of what she deserves—perhaps something in her doesn’t let her enjoy things free of charge that come to her out of the good of someone’s heart.

to conclude, she’s just as fragile and embedded with sufferings and a tough life as he is. though he has always had the money to do whatever he wishes—that’s what makes them different. and perhaps bruce has had a better support system than y/n, but he doesn’t know that.

“she’s done quite the good job of raising you,” alfred tells y/n in an almost congratulatory tone of voice. she gives him a half-smile. the man didn’t really know what to say at first, because he’s never been in that kind of situation, so he does what he does best—offer her some comforting, encouraging words, “we’re not blind to those horrible things happening here, in gotham,” alfred says, “whatever we can, we do. but bruce is always busy with something else to look through and accept any real deals.” he points out.

bruce sighs. it’s true, what alfred says, and bruce wants to help the city and its very weaklings more every day. but his mind is always miles away. and he believes that batman does some, if not most, of that already. help those who cannot help themselves. y/n gives him a look, wondering what alfred means, wondering what reasons bruce has for that absence. “gotham doesn’t like to stand up to all the crime and injustice that goes on every day,” bruce finally says, and his voice has changed to that of his vigilante persona. y/n nearly sighs. it’s strange to see him in regular clothes, without the dark circles around his eyes, speaking in that voice, “i’ll get more involved, i promise, alfred.” he looks to his godfather, who nods.

“no need to justify yourself to me, dear boy,” alfred tells him, and y/n nearly melts. alfred’s fatherly affection to bruce comes out beautifully whenever it does. but it’s not alfred that bruce was justifying himself in front of, or for. it was y/n, who bruce’s eyes flick towards with meaning in them. y/n gives him a light smile and nod.

“maybe i can help,” y/n suggests half-seriously, “accept those deals instead of bruce and get things going.” she says, and shoots bruce a playful wink. he is amused, too, but not quite as much as she is. she’s sort of made him look a little incompetent in his role in wayne industries, but he doesn’t take it to heart.

alfred smiles wide, “you know, i like you enough to accept that,” he tells her, which gets them both laughing. bruce makes a grin in the midst of their laughter, “to the eyes of the public, you could be the visual for wayne enterprises, and bruce could take a long, long vacation.” alfred adds on.

“oh no, he’d be my assistant,” y/n corrects alfred and shoots bruce a wink again. he shakes his head, “my translator, business language to english.” she says and laughs again. alfred chuckles, and bruce eventually cracks up and utters a chuckle himself. he doesn’t know how seriously these two have taken y/n’s suggestion, but if it’s serious to the very brim, bruce wouldn’t know a better person besides y/n to take his place as the leader of wayne enterprises. only alfred, but he made it clear long ago that he has no desire or intention to be that public, be that important to the company. though he already is more important than bruce, with all the work he’s doing already.

after lunch, it’s safe to say y/n and alfred get along very well. just like bruce expected and wanted them to. while one of the kitchen boys was clearing the lunch table, alfred took y/n up to his study and the library—which bruce had already shown her, but that didn’t matter to either of them—and showed her around more. did a better job than bruce could have, because he’s not that informed with the placement of everything in the library, in the study, or in the vinyl collection.

the most beautiful moment of the day, perhaps, one of bruce’s favourite moments in his entire life is when alfred put on voices of spring waltz, op.410 by johann strauss, and asked y/n for a dance. bruce never knew she could dance—another topic that hadn’t come up in their countless conversations before—and he couldn’t stop watching them dance. how alfred kept playfully switching between the regular waltz and the vienna waltz, the faster one, every once in a while, keeping up with the rhythmic changes of the composed piece.

how she twirled, and how her hair swayed along with her. how she smiled and laughed at alfred and his movements and how he turned her here and there, sometimes unexpectedly. in contrast to the sadder conversation the three of them had held during lunch, about her parents and her childhood—quite a sobering conversation for bruce—she looked happier than ever. so contagiously happy that bruce could not keep away, and joined their waltz dancing. of course he knows that it’s a two-person dance, but with the men’s agile movements and y/n’s instincts and ability, they made a three-person waltz work. twirling and turning y/n here and there, making the dance steps side by side and in a circle instead of directly facing each other—it all worked and made the three of them laugh a lot.

bruce already reminisces of those beautiful moments now, hours later, as he lays with his head in y/n’s lap on their shared riddance bed, y/n reading a book in silence and bruce drawing or writing in his notebook. uncharacteristically so, y/n hasn’t said a word since they entered the room. well, apart from some necessary for companionship few words. but she hasn’t said anything about how the lunch was for her, what she thinks of alfred, how she feels—absolutely nothing about that matter. and it’s kind of worrying bruce.

what also worries him in her behaviour is how reluctant she is suddenly. no hands in bruce’s hair, neither of her hands are touching him at all. she hasn’t made a move to kiss him, hasn’t made a move to get closer to him. and it’s not only bruce’s touch-starved nature that raises worry about this in him. it’s also the aspect of how well he knows her in general. she likes to be touching him, more than he allows himself to touch her, regularly. bruce always feels awkward about initiating it, but maybe he should. perhaps that’s what she expects of him now, having gone into this weird behaviour of hers.

maybe she’s just too exhausted to socialise, even with him. even though she’s usually the sociable person out of the two of them. maybe, which bruce hopes to be untrue, she’s upset with him, or mad at him for some reason, for the time being, unknown to him. what could it be? he can’t recall anything that he said or did was wrong. and it’s so hard to read her. perhaps it’s because he’s gotten to know more of her, that the parts he still doesn’t know, are a complete mystery to him. it’s strange. bruce doesn’t exactly know what to do.

he doesn’t know that her brain and heart are nearly bubbling over the edge with all her thoughts and feelings. he can’t possibly feel or sense that, even with how well he knows her. but y/n’s been an active, rumbling volcano ever since that door of this room closed behind her and bruce. one question, one word put in the wrong place, could cause an entire eruption of that volcano. and neither of them need that. but she can’t help her rushing thoughts.

private high schools. a well-known philanthropist, surgeon father. a gothic mansion in the outskirts of gotham. more money than anyone else. tools, weapons, instruments, vehicles, devices for anything he might need. impenetrable suits that intimidate those without one. gifts without end. it’s an alien world to her. and she can’t quite place how she ended up here, inside it.

“are you… tired?” bruce interrupts their silence that grows more and more tense with each second. his voice in a guessing tone, as if he doesn’t know if that question is the exact right one to ask. bruce lays on her stomach with his chest now, looking up at her through her book, even though he can’t see her face. he’s sure he knows it well enough to know where her eyes are, though.

y/n doesn’t move her eyes off the book she’s reading as she answers, “a little.” she admits to him. short, colder than usual. something’s definitely off, and bruce’s heart falls to the pit of his stomach as he realises that. it’s definitely something to do with him. only what? and maybe asking her what exactly it is in him, or in anything he’s said or done that upsets her so much—because he’s willing to change; for her, if for anyone at all—will be worse than what he’s feeling between himself and her right now. how can he know without trying it out?

it’s killing him, this not knowing of what’s wrong, of what’s behind her stale mood. but he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable. he wants things to be better between them, and he can’t guess why they’ve grown so tense and unbearable now. he doesn’t know what to do. scared to take the first step, scared to leave things how they are because they might escalate, scared of the matter she’s upset about being unchangeable. he’s stuck.

bruce lays his cheek on her clothed chest now. “did i do something wrong?” he finally asks her, having gained enough courage and also having realised that she means more to him than having an argument, in the most fragile voice she’s ever heard him speak before. she can hear fear, anxiety and self-doubt in his voice, even in those very few words spoken.

y/n stares ahead in her book, taken aback by his question, and taken aback once again in how well he knows her already. he knows something’s up, and she appreciates that. but can she bring herself to tell him what’s up with her, and why she’s feeling the way she is? y/n sighs courtly, and keeps her book as a shield between her and bruce, realising that’s an easier way to talk to him about her feelings than if she would be looking right at him. why has she become so closed-off to him all of a sudden, though? she doesn’t know. “no,” she says with a gentle shake of his head, her voice quiet.

really? then why is she not talking to him at all? not telling him how she feels? “then what is it?” he asks her. bruce rests his chin on her stomach again, she feels its pointy character digging softly into her skin. she sighs. he’s relentless, and she knows that about him. perhaps this is the first time she really notices that because it’s expressed directly towards her. and he doesn’t ask these questions like he does when they’re both interrogating a criminal at night. this is different. because this issue is much more personal to him.

y/n closes her book and places it at her side, now greeted first and foremost with bruce’s anxious, caring face. not so far from her own, and she feels even closer to tears now. she hates feeling like this. bruce laying in her hold is bugging her, bothering her for the first time ever. his eyes on her are suddenly too much, and she doesn’t know why. everything was fine with him just a few hours ago. her attitude has changed so suddenly, it bothers her to no end. she doesn’t want to be upset, doesn’t feel entitled to be so, but she is. and perhaps, after all, she should be.

she tries to keep her tears at bay. she doesn’t need to cry now. “nothing that you can change,” she tells him in a shaky whisper, only meeting his eyes for a fleeting second. she turns away then, pulling her legs up and away from under his weight. but bruce places his palms on her thighs and stops her movements. she looks at him again, slightly frightened, “bruce.”

“tell me what’s wrong,” he tells her and hopes the words didn’t sound like a beg. his eyes are sure, they’re set on her as he is set on uncovering the secret behind her change in behaviour, “please. if there’s anything i can do or change, i w—”

y/n shakes her head and rolls her eyes, “there’s nothing you can do,” she says, slight fury in her voice, “already told you. even with… everything that you have, especially with it, you can’t change it.” she says. you can’t change, she thinks to herself. but even in her upset mood, she knows that would be said too much. she damns herself for even thinking those words and their meaning.

“then talk to me, please,” bruce doesn’t care anymore that he sounds like he’s begging, he doesn’t care how desperate his voice gets. this is important to him. she is important to him, “just talk to me.” his voice grows quiet, to the volume of a whisper, and he feels himself on the verge of tears suddenly. he gulps as he looks up at her still, just pleading for her to understand that he’s here to help, that he doesn’t mean her any harm.

y/n shakes her head, runs her hands over her face, all to keep herself from crying out, and just sighs. the tears are coming, but she won’t let them take over. she won’t. she can’t. “not now,” she tells him finally, her eyes looking away from his—anywhere, the ceiling, her hands, her book to the side—and he can hear her fragility in her voice. he feels for her, “tomorrow. i’m… too tired now.” she tells him finally.

bruce nods. he wants to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible, now would be the perfect time. but if she’s asking him for tomorrow morning, he will respect that, and he will wait. so he nods and lays a kiss on her hand out of pure affection. her eyes fill with tears suddenly at that gentle gesture, and her lip quivers as her emotions take over and want to unleash their full wrath on her. but she won’t let them. she mustn’t. bruce kisses her hand again, kisses all over it—her palms, her fingers, her knuckles—and it really brings y/n over the edge, her lip quivering further and further until tears spill out of her eyes, over her cheeks.

she loves him. it’s the first time she admits that to herself. she loves him, she knows she does. she doesn’t want to push him away, she doesn’t want to hurt him. she wants to be close to him as possible at all times, know him more and more, bare her entire self to him. and yet she can’t help but feel out of place. she can’t help but feel like a complete alien with him, in his world, in his home. so different from hers.

night begins to grow across gotham like a big, dark cape, the darkness creeping into every inch of bruce and y/n’s room—curtains, walls, the floor, the bed and its accessories—and so bruce turns off the bed-side lamp, puts the book on the nightstand, and crawls over y/n again. her form trembles as she makes quiet sobs in the dark now, hiding her face in her hands, and bruce doesn’t shush her now. he lets her let it all out, because he can tell she needs it.

he doesn’t intrude on her personal space anymore with questions or words at all. he just holds her, pulls the covers over them both, knowing that it’ll be too hot with both them underneath, but also knowing that when y/n cries, she tends to grow cold all over. the warmth will be good for her. he caresses her hair with his hand and just listens to her soft yet intense cries. on one hand, he hates to hear and see her cry—it breaks his heart. but then again, he can tell she needs that release. pent-up emotions, perhaps frustrations with herself and the world, need to be let out sometime. and so it’s soothing for him that she seemingly gets that relief now. at least he thinks she’s getting it. in reality, he doesn’t really know.

at some point in the darkness growing ever-present and unavoidable in the room, y/n cries fade to silence, and bruce discovers she’s fallen asleep. being tired himself, and being with her, bruce soon falls asleep, too, with her still in his arms. he’s glad about how peaceful she is in her sleep, even if the problem between them is unresolved, even if he doesn’t still yet know the reason she cried so hard, and why she cried at all.

y/n knows bruce is a heavy sleeper, and she adores it. she hates to be taking advantage of that now, in the night hours, when she slips out of his heavy hold and gets up from their bed. she bids herself not to cry any tears as she picks up her few stuff and wraps it up in a ball she can easily carry. she ignores the tears that fall as she opens and closes the bedroom door in the quietest way possible, and she hates causing that sharp pang in her heart that happens as the door quietly thuds closed behind her.

she doesn’t want to leave him, and least of all wants to hurt him with her leave. but this is so not her world. this is not her place. there's too many differences between him and her. and she can’t bare it any longer.

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[blaqueswanzaghouliishiilikeda]

if it’s one thing Florence is gonna do its distance and disassociate herself from anything that colors her sense of morals or virtues.

don’t talk about louis pimping he gon figure out a better way to keep us in our comforts soon enough like jim crow isn’t unraveling every possibility of that.

dont talk about pauls mental state or draw attention to our past decision to hospitalize him.

Grace talks about how a month from her wedding she dreams of having a quite breakfast without Louis and Pauls bickering and Paul preaching at the table instead of dancing with her husband and children running in the yard.

then a month later after dancing with her husband and right before she has children to run in the yard she finds out what a waking nightmare it is to have that dream realized. Paul is dead, and Louis is too in his own way. and they never have breakfast all together again.

Priest saying nothing is beneath him, but Louis knows he’d be condemned to the hell below for just being who he is so he makes a comment of being aware that some things are in fact beneath him.

Steven G. Norfleet’s performance is really underrated (granted i’m new here so forgive me if y’all were going up for him the way y’all should have been). His physicality as Paul and the way he delivers his lines is 👩🏾‍🍳🤌🏾✨

the way he walks to the confession box and his delivery of “I want father Mathius. thank you” all so so good. he’s amazing in this and brought such depth to Paul. Paul’s portrayal could have been so hammy and over done and he found a real delicate balance of vulnerability and comedy. but the comedy didn’t feel disrespectful. it didn’t feel like punching down. it felt like layers to a person. i understand why Louis enjoyed his time with Paul despite their differences. Steven’s depiction of Paul’s mental illness feels really well done imo. I appreciate so much what he brought to this.

down bad if the ass you seeking is that particular man Louis, but i know it’s not many options

They both speak french, and english (and lestat can read Louis’ mind), but their communication is still off.

I think about Lily’s frustrations here cause this her job and Louis is acting up right now potentially fucking up her money. like she trying to work and Louis fighting Lestat cause he got to the girl Louis wants first. so she has to find a way to keep the peace between them and i’m sure she picking up on the undertones of their exchange what with having a job where men confess desires they can’t tell their wives and with Louis literally confessing things to her he can’t tell anybody else (coming off the back of the scene where the priest tells him he can come to him with a confession if he ever needs help). the way lestat’s uses her to get a rise out of louis. the way louis isn’t mad at how lestat is treating lily, but how lestat treating lily that way in front of him emasculates him. lily is the one he came here to purchase time with. and lestat out bids him and in louis’ retelling of this moment lily’s humanity is as invisible as it is meaningless to lestat.

like she can’t speak french and so there are parts of this conversation where she is othered and made to feel like an outsider while sitting at the table with them. she even asks what he said. and they keep her in the dark. but she plays her role anyways in helping the men connect with one another because she notices they really want each other “your his destiny louis!” but are too prideful to be real about it “the gentlemen are swapping sausage recipes”

Louis: I had come there for Lily [hands over pristinely kept name card] but i left thinking of only him.

that moment where they bid for her time/body is like that silent auction scene in get out if it went over your head in this context. like louis’ treatment of her here is just so wretched. for her to later call him a beautiful man bc he pays her so he can express vulnerability and nothing more. but that’s still emotional labor. she just clearly prefers it to whatever those horrid rich white johns at the fair play saloon probably have her doing.

emasculation and admiration in equal measure. you admire the way lestat exploited her you say?? that he had the means and the swagger to take her from you??👂🏾

(i know i just said all that, but is it bad that i wanna what was in that kiss that stole her breath a little 🫣. tell me the truth i’ll erase this right now and act like i ain’t never said it)

iwtv ep 1 rewatch thoughts

[i am eating Popeyes right now and i promise didn’t plan it this way, but seeds were planted so here we are.]

first things first we [the viewers] are introduced to our two time Pulitzer Prize winning professor Daniel Malloy. We all come to this course with a variety of understandings of the topic just like in any other course. Right off the bat he’s telling us of his expertise in a pervious recording and at the same time we witness his visible skepticism of his own claims in the more nuanced present setting. if you think he’s the only reliable character it’s very much being challenged in the first few moments, which i’m sure has been pointed out many, many times.

he flips the channel there’s a war happening (clue about where we’re at in terms of timeline?? idk. i’ve only engaged with AMCverse so maybe?) and flips it again and the fantastical is going to become a reality. he just has to put the pieces he doesn’t have together so he sits down to do a puzzle (a devils minion easter egg apparently) and he’ll get those pieces by accepting the extended invitation sent to him by none other than Louis de Pointe du Lac, which picks up from his mail box after trying to fit missing pieces together. very solid intro.

Daniel: Why get any closer to the bug than i need to?

he says before he gets on an international flight and exposes himself to countless risks. It’s what he does tho right? i’ve seen a couple sc of the books where he describes Armand as looking like an insect. he is not put off by getting close to perceived bugs. Its funny tho as he’s asking the question, he’s unboxing the answer—louis’ handwritten invitation—as to what would be worth risking your life for right above the devils minion easter egg.

-bc the bug has been following your career (like the way armand followed him yes?) and you like that

-bc the bug wants you and has invited you and you are a risk taker in the ways an investigative journalist has to be to get to the story/truth. in a way a man who refused to face his mortality chooses to be as pointed out by the lovely tumblr user blueiight here (hope it’s okay that i linked you. lmk)

Louis definitely clinging to threads of the past. in 2020 he’s sending hand written letters (on papers with Lestat’s initials) instead of emails and original cassette recordings instead of digital recordings. A lot if not all of his threads to humanity are threads to the past (“in my day” old headass) since right now he seemingly doesn’t really have any connection to humanity in the modern time. being an out of touch billionaire will do that to you, on top of being a century old vampire.

I think thats another evil that gets overlooked when some of y’all are looking for “he’s just as bad” reasons to pin on him. Instead of the imaginary he bit claudia before bringing her to Lestat…like…in addition to his pimping he’s literally a billionaire. like its right there. that encapsulates the worst ways to exist in this world. he the manpire of humanity as well like…

which i guess is goes into the many faces of violence that fade to the background and don’t get called out enough. violence isn’t alway brutality and i noticed just this past couple of days people only see violence when it’s in tandem with brutality, but im not about to sit here and lecture y’all cause that’s not at all fun. and thats why im doing this. bc its fun. i just think this show does a wonderful job of showing the spectrum of violence and evil and i think you do a great disservice to what they have done here if you’re only seeing those things from one angle. and i think thats one of the reasons why so many people struggle with Lestat and don’t appreciate how masterfully (no pun intended) he’s been crafted bc you don’t recognize those things [violence and evil] anywhere else in the story as being as bad.

if thats Daniels box of the past he doesn’t have much kids stuff, just a pink stuffed animal and a bike helmet, so i wonder how much of his kids lives he’s really missed. Like it doesn’t even seem like there was a joint custody situation where they spent a great deal of time at his home as well. idk maybe he has things in storage. but i’m curious about that and how that parallels with how louis let his own child down as has been pointed out.

ngl he look tf good while he listening back to this tape 😩😅 someone zoomed in on his muscle flexing when he pressed play and i just want to say to you i agree wholeheartedly with you whoever you are.

he mad tho. snatched that letter up quick after pausing the tape. 😂

He dives into the (possible) eternal sunset on a highway that looks like water.

If this is a way to get Lestat’s attention, which I think it can be said is a part of why this second interview is happening given the papers Louis chose to write the invitation on, I think its very pointed that Louis is introducing himself as a keeper of knowledge considering one of his (possible*) final moments with lestat as pointed out here.

one of the last things Lestat ever did before he was poisoned, had his neck sliced, and was dumped in a garbage yard to feed on rats, was humiliate Louis about his love of books and claim the role of the knowledge keeper in their family. I think its a very pointed message that this is a book (especially with all the mediums available in 2020), of course Louis loves books, but also Lestat has beef with books lol (Between Gabrielle and Louis). If there’s anyway to get a rise out him (hehe) its a book where Louis is identified as the knowledge keeper of the immortal life Lestat gave to him. and it’s written by a savory inferior as well. louis could have written the book himself. God knows he has the skill, time and the access to do it so that was intentional. Lestat gone drop through the ceiling of the dubai penthouse in a rage.

*possible final moments bc we don’t know yet if Louis has seen Lestat since Paris etc. etc. which i think he will see him in paris bc of Rolins “can’t burn him twice” comment, but i’m open to being wrong.

i haven’t pointed out anything that hasn’t been discussed extensively, but this is a verrryy solid opening introduction to the show. right off jump they established this to be a well crafted episode.

i need yall to know right now that as we go forward in this episode i cannot be held accountable for who i become when faced with brown eyed louis’ fine self. you’ve seen it yourselves please don’t hold this against me!!!! i am not god’s strongest soldier! i am weak at the knees! i will buckle! i will fold!

[mywritingonlyfans]

One Shot with Ethan Torchio // It's a bit Fluffly, Smut and Angsty

prompt: in which, ethan always need/visit you when he's not in tour + casual sex(?) with ethan tying you up so you don't touch him i'm telling you this but isn't a hardcore smut

warnings: it's smut. a fluffly kinda sexy(?)maybe it's just sexy bc it's ethan smut ig fem!reader

(he is so hot. i'm crying all my tears, and that's fucking pathetic.)

Your head hurt, you knew your face was probably red due to your desire to go home and cry, but yet, your friends convinced you to go out for a drink. According to them nothing was too bad that a beer couldn’t improve, you doubted it.

Somehow, you found yourself happy to have accepted.

You didn’t know Ethan was back in town, you briefly wondered why you didn’t know, since he always contacted you when he was near (or at least that was what it seemed to be). Still, you were glad to see him. He was always able to make things better, even if only for a short period of time; which in your case was very short one as he wasn’t yours to have.

Ethan complemented your friends, they were all too familiar to him. He hugged you, giving a small kiss to your head while sitting next to you. Suddenly, you felt like a stronger drink would do you good.

It wasn’t hard to tell what was going to happen in the next few hours, after a couple of years going through that, you knew the time you spent together would always be the same. You guessed that you were able to put his head in place, just as he did with yours; and that's why he always came back to you. You'd never be able to tell if it was luck or mischance.

“Was it too hard to find me?” You asked him.

By now, your friends had moved to another corner. “I mean, I’m not complaining, I’m glad you did.” You offered him a weak smile. He did the same.

He looked tired, yet deadly cute.

He shuffled his chair closer to yours, letting his leg touch your bare knee. “Not really, Victoria said she called you in the morning, then told me that you intended to visit here for the night,” he mumbled, signaling to the bartender that he needed a beer, and so did you.

“She’s a gossip,” you wrinkled your nose, causing him to provide offer you a nasal laugh that you had learned to find lovely over the years. “But what has been happenin’ in your life lately? You’re good?” You tried to sound casual, but deep down you knew he wasn’t there entirely for you. Something was bothering him, he was looking for someone to rest on.

“Pretty much the same,” he sighed heavily. He wasn’t tired just physically. “We finished the last album, I feel exhausted.”

He looked at you like a lost puppy, watching your face, analyzing if you were in the mood to listen to him, or even if you were okay with having him around. After all, he came to you out of nowhere.

He’d never make you uncomfortable around him, maybe he hadn't noticed that yet. “C’mon, let it all out. I haven’t seen you for too many months for you to deprive me of the details.”

“If I tell you,” he pondered, “ you’ll tell me why you have a runny nose to match your watery eyes?” He poked your cheek, dragging his fingers so he could put some strands of hair back in place.

His seat was now so close to you that you'd be able to rest your head on his shoulder if you wanted to without creating any bodily discomfort.

“I guess life just hasn’t been all that gentle with me lately.” You giggled at him. “I lost my job last week, the same life shit is goin’ on as usual, and when I finally managed to move to a decent place, I’ll now be actually going back to sharin' apartment with strangers, because, y’know, I can’t afford bein’ in there anymore.”

Ethan was quiet for a while, you needed him more than he needed you. Listening to you made him realize how his worries were nothing at all. He knew that you didn't mind sharing an apartment with someone, but the loss of perspective was always tough.

Without further thinking, he pulled you to himself, fluffing your hair and holding you tight in his grip. You didn’t cry, yet it was possible to read your emotions. It was little, but Ethan knew you.

You took your head off his chest while he still had his arm around your waist. Taking a deep breath, you stared at your laced fingers, feeling it slow down. “I guess it’s all happenin’ at the same time, I’m just not sure how to handle it at the moment,” he held your face in his hand, his mouth close to yours as he ran his fingertips over your chin, until his lips were on you.

He was soft and wet, he had the same taste you still had etched in your mind, at that moment it seemed to be all you needed. He let go slowly, distributing pecks on the corners of your mouth, letting his forehead rest against yours.

You two stayed like that for a few minutes and you could bet that anyone who passed by could see how much of a fool you were for him. You tried not to think about it too much, it was better to have little of him than to have nothing. “Ethan?”

“Huh?” He murmured with his eyes closed, giving your lips a tickling sensation.

“Kiss me more,” and then he did. Ethan was holding you in place while your hands intertwined around his neck. You played with the chain of his necklace, savoring the touch of his tongue on yours, focusing only on him while pulling at his hair to hear his soft moans.

It didn’t take long for the bartender to come get your attention. You laughed nervously against him, you were embarrassed because you didn’t even remember where you were, still Ethan seemed untouchable about it. He wasn’t one to be embarrassed over small things like that, at least not with you. The bartender was quite irritated with the two of you and just now you noticed that your drinks had arrived and hadn’t even been touched; he was rightly pissed.

Ethan stood up, lifting you up with him. You looked in your pockets for your money, but then Ethan said it was okay and that he’d pay. You would argue, yet any money left over would be welcome. You held both beers in hand as he paid, thanking the old lady for the service, still feeling your skin burning with embarrassment, and then headed outside to wait for Ethan.

“Are you drivin’?” He asked, laughing at your state of awkwardness.

You bumped into his shoulder slightly, laughing along with him. “I am not, I’m living nearby,” you whispered as he put his hand inside your skirt pocket, bringing you to his side for a walk. “In the apartment that soon won’t be mine… how ‘bout you?”

“Not drivin’, I thought about staying somewhere to spend the night.”

He was close to home, but not that close, it would take about 3 hours to get to where he lives; it seemed plausible that he wanted to stay. “Are you only here because of me?” You risked asking.

“Yeah,” he took his hand out of your pocket and ran it through his hair. “I didn’t think it‘d be a bad idea.”

There was a silence, but it was far from being uncomfortable. “You know you can stay with me.”

——————-

Considering that you were in the process of moving to another place your house was a bit of a mess. Ethan wouldn’t be bothered by that, somehow your instinct of wanting things always in place - aka Monica from Friends - made you wander around the space in an attempt to make Ethan at home.

“What ‘bout the new album?” You asked, dragging one of the boxes away from him. It wouldn’t even bother anyone, but the thought that it would be in the middle of the room while someone was at your house bothered you.

“I don’t really know, I feel anxious about releasin’ it. It’s not that I don’t want to release it or am afraid of doing so, far from that, it's just, I don’t know… ” His voice fell silent, lost in his thoughts.

You turned to him, wanting to ask him what he had said, after all, that didn’t sound like Ethan, you felt as his hands touched your hips, pulling you on his lap. “Y'know I don’t care about your mess, right? Just, please, stop walkin’ 'round the house dragging boxes.” He said with his face close to your neck, hugging you from behind. His warm breath was in contact with your soft skin, providing heat to your body. Well, there was a minimal percentage chance that you were trying to make the place look good for Ethan, just because he made you a little nervous.

“Okay, fine. I’m fine,” you exhaled, turning to face him. He was smiling with his eyes almost closing; he still looked tired, but at least you were improving his mood. “You know you’re good at what you do, Ethan. You shouldn’t worry 'bout those things.” You held on to his shoulders, breaking something that could turn out to be a pity silence.

He squeezed your thigh at the same time as he laughed humorlessly at your words. “I know that. I guess that this is the short time they gave us to finish the album – it was drivin’ me crazy. The album isn’t bad, not at all, it’s honestly very good. Dami did a incredible job, still if it weren’t for the time it could have been even better. That’s crazy how I’m still letting myself get stressed over this, don’t you think?” He vented, moving his hands up your skirt.

“I know it’ll be good, I can’t think of anything you did that ended up bad!” You ran your fingers over his covered shoulders, down to his chest, going to the first open button of his t-shirt. “But if it’s just stress I can help you.”

He lubed his lips, nodding assiduously, putting you properly on top of him. That way, you were stuck to his body, feeling the rough of his jeans along with the zipper against your underwear. You gulped as he held your face, sealing your lips with his. You were relieved he always guided you through that; the leading up part was way better when it came from him.

You unbuttoned the rest of his shirt in middle of sloppy kisses and grips. Running your hand over his belly, tracing your fingers to the back of his neck while moving your hips lightly. You lugged on his hair, pulling him away to catch your breath. You opened your eyes to find Ethan with a deep pink mouth and brown eyes more intense than normal, at that moment you could have sworn that he was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on. You spread his shirt to the sides, sensing your body getting hotter, when Ethan smirked at your rush, managing to hold both of your hands behind you; stopping you in place.

“No need to rush, we have plenty of time,” he clenched you in his hands. You arched your back, breathing heavily at each touch of his fingers on your wrists.

He ran his nose over your neck, placing kisses and bites on the way to your collarbone, leaving wet tracks that would later turn into dark marks.

Your legs ached from that position, the couch wasn’t the best, but feeling Ethan getting hard under you as you writhed yourself against him, made you want to stay there for as long as he wanted you to. It was crazy to think that at the beginning of the day you were sure that the rest of it would be a pure disaster, and now being spoiled by Ethan’s lips your worries seemed to fade away.

Temporary as that would be, you were determined to give him your all, making his and yours next hours one of the best escapes from both of you. Unnecessary to say that you were lost in your own mind by now, craving for having his strands in-between your fingers, wanting him tugged into you furiously, causing you to ache. Your mouth was ajar, your vision was just white dots as he played with your sensitive skin, driving you insane. Ethan paralyzed when his grip became too strong around your fists and you got louder than usual.

“D’you like that?” He did it again, but this time pushing your body backward. He kept his devilish grin on his face, watching you from top to bottom. You bit your lips, containing your noises to yourself. Such an angel in his eyes. “Up, babe. I need to see something.” He didn’t let you answer, not as if he needed to. You stood up in front of him, legs shaking with your head definitely not in the right place. “Undress.” He rested his elbows on his knees.

His face was serious, and you didn’t see any problem in obeying his voice, but perhaps, due to the lack of his body being glued to yours, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it when I tell you what to do,” He caught you by the hem of your underwear, helping to take it off while you got rid of your blouse. “Especially, when I just got you off my lap, almost unconscious 'cause of some kisses to your soft neck, pet.” He added, drawing circles on the inside of your thigh, smoothly going up to your center.

You felt your breath come to a halt. “You’re just too bossy.” You teased, confirming that your breathing was faulty.

He patted his nose over the damp stain of the fabric, placing a kiss there. “And you love it.” He pecked you a few more times, teasing you by running his fingers on the edges as putting the cloth to the side; never touching you where you needed him.

Almost involuntarily you took hold of his hair, bringing him closer to your core. And then, you understood his previous question, it wasn’t just about not being able to touch him, but also about the power he was having over you.

He cut his actions short and got up, hovering over you. “Tonight, you won’t be allowed to touch me, all right?!” He whispered, tossing your hair behind your ear.

That’d be comical in any other situation, yet with his body and eyes fixed on your frame you felt in his domain.

You nodded, diving into the way he pulled at the hair on the nape of your neck firmly so that you were looking at him. “Go on, babe,” He insisted on having the words he wanted.

“Yes, it’s all right, Ethan,” it was far from all right, you couldn’t do that. How could you go without touching, making a mess of his hair or marking your nails on his back?

“That’s my girl,” he praised you in between sighs.

He was excited while your face was overflowing with nervousness; not out of fear, but out of curiosity. He finished removing his shirt and indicated with his fingers for you to lie down on the couch.

You shut your eyes tight, with his voice echoing 'my girl’ in your mind, Ethan was lugging your wrists above your head as you did what he told you to do. He tied them with his shirt. “Is this hurtin’ you? Are you comfortable?” He tightened it in a knot.

Your head and elbows were on the arm of the couch, only your hands were unsupported. Although you weren’t uncomfortable, it was to be expected that pain would appear the next day; it’d be worth it. “No, it’s fine. I’m good.” You assured him as he knelt beside the couch, running his hands down your torso, making you squirm.

He went down to the hem of your underwear, taking it off with the help of your legs kicking the lace away. “Good then,” he warbled, pattering lines on your pubic hair. “Needy and in your proper place.”

“Bastard,” you swore through clenched teeth.

He grinned, admiring how your breast rose and fell in a quick but punctual rhythm while your hips fidgeted at his touch. You looked like a piece of art he had just created, swollen lips, filled in lovely marks on the collarbone. He found himself in need to concentrate on his breathing while watching you, to control his pulse as he reached his fingertips to your pussy.

“Ethan” you breathed out, forcing your fists. “Go on, please,”

With that, he held your hands, forcing them down and slid a finger inside you. Your lips opened in a sigh and he took the opportunity to kiss you, running his tongue over your bottom lip and nipping it to his mouth, keeping things on a slow pace.

You wanted to hold his hand, make him go faster or be able to pull the locks of his hair until he understood how much you wanted him, but you had no way of doing that, and you knew he was just doing that to provoke you.

His lips traveled over your neck again, this time giving light kisses, blowing air on the soft fresh he had left in there.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he said without even opening his eyes, delighting in your skin as he sped up, now rubbing his thumb gently over your bud.

You whispered something almost inaudible that Ethan recognized as his name. He raised his head, coming face a face to you. “Right there, huh?” He asked, focusing on the spot that was blurring your vision.

You groaned. The satisfying delight running through your veins. You closed your legs, wishing you could hold on to his body, but all he did was laugh, shoving his fingers leisurely into you.

“No, no Ethan,” you looked at him properly, thinking that if you hadn’t been with your wrists tied you’d have slapped his chest.

He wiped his hand on your thigh, and stood up slipping his jeans down his legs along with his underwear. You sighed at him, stretching your arms, staring at the ceiling to disguise yourself. Not that it was necessary, Ethan was already too much of a show-off when it came to you for your liking.

“You good? How’s your arms?” He doubted, getting on top of you.

He had his hair damp, falling over the spots on his forehead. Some of his locks was glued to his chest and his golden pendant dangled in front of your eyes. For a split second, you though about saying that you missed him, but you were wise enough to know better than doing such a thing.

“If I say that I’m not good. Are you goin’ to untie me?”

He pressed his chest to yours, your body sticking to his since you were both sweaty.

“Not even a chance,” He stroked your neck with his thumb, up and down, with a silly look on his face.

You grunted as soon as you felt how solid hard he was against your thigh, he aligned himself in-between your knees, holding on to your shoulders, and without hesitation he filled you up. Your body tingled and your voice failed, causing a silent moan to slip from your lips. His head fell over the crook of your neck and you could feel how dysrhythmic his breathing was. His warm body along with his breath hitting on your neck added a pleasant feeling in your stomach, leaving you dizzy under him.

“Move Ethan,” you tried to sound understandable, embracing his waist with your legs.

He thrusted deeply in you, leaving a breathed sigh of relief in your ears. You stretched out your arms, tightening your thighs around him. He held the shirt in your hands, preventing it from coming loose.

“No, I wanna touch you,” you whined.

“You will, just be patient, babe,” he squeezed your wrists in his hand.

Closing your eyes, you enjoyed the way his body was over yours, every movement and every delicate touch.

He went slowly at first, making sure you were taking all of him before going faster. Once he felt your walls clenching around him, he murmured a breathless 'fuck’, letting go of your hands so that you could finally feel him. You dug your nails into his back, kneading your body against his at the same time as he hugged you.

As you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you, with an intense gaze, building you up to feel sexy and wanted.

Both of you were a mess; sweaty and sticky. You felt a tingling ecstasy take all over your body, your toes twitching as you emptied yourself into him. He kept working on you until his body collapsed into yours, filling you up to perfection.

The last thing you remembered was having your fingers entwined in his hair, patting at it slightly as he whispered sweet nothing against your skin; just like a lullaby.

———–-------

You woke up to the noise of the television, trying to adjust your vision to the brightness of the daylight. Failing to stretch, you felt how sore your body was.

Your eyes searched for Ethan, finding him sitting opposite to you with a lazy smile and a cup of tea in hands, his attention was all on you. Friends was playing on the television, but you doubted he was really watching it.

“Good mornin’ babe,” his husky voice echoed through the room. It was the best thing to hear in the morning. “How’s it? Hurtin’?” He asked when you started examining your marked wrists.

He was fully dressed and although you weren’t, he had managed to get a sheet to cover you.

“Good mornin’. It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt,” you mumbled, scratching your eyes, curling up on the sheet. “How long will you be stayin’ in town?”

“Not long,” he paused thoughtfully. You already expected that he wouldn’t be with you for long, still sometimes you liked to think that it’d last longer than just a few days before he disappeared to another continent. “I need to go home in a few minutes, I’m going to take a flight at night to adjust the final details of the album.”

“Sounds nice,” you wanted to have the courage to tell him how he made things in your life look just right, as if he were some kind of piece missing from your puzzle. “I can’t wait to hear it, hear what your great fingers are capable of.” You ignored your thoughts. He laughed.

However, you truly believed that not saying anything was a wise move.

He lifted a cup from one of the boxes next to him, holding it out to you. “I made one for you too, I hope you don’t mind.”

You didn’t mind it, in fact, you loved the way he made himself at home so quickly. The home that soon wouldn’t be yours anymore. You wished Ethan could remedy your worries for more than just one night.

“Thank you,” you took the still warm drink in your hands, looking at him as if he were part of your decor. “You can smoke in here, I don’t mind that either,” you spoke up. You couldn’t even imagine that he’d have gone without lighting a cigarette all morning.

“The place is all clean, and smells nice. I bet you never lit one yourself, I wouldn’t do that.” He was right.

“Well, y'know that I don’t care about the smell, I just don’t see the need to leave the house impregnated with it.” You explained, remembering that Ethan’s house was a perfect description of that smell, yet you loved his place.

“I know this is going to sound strange,” he started. “But if you can’t find a place in time to live in… you can stay at mine, I mean, you know I am never home and as I’ll be travelin’ you could make yourself at home.”

He said it casually, and you knew he wasn’t lying, if you wanted to he wouldn't even think twice about letting you stay at his.

“No need, I’ll be fine. I do appreciate it though.” you took a sip of your now cold drink.

He bobbed, checking what you thought could be the time on his phone.

“You have to go, I guess?” You asked, your soft voice revealing you didn’t want that.

“I need to,” he gave you a small smile, getting up. “It’s gettin’ a bit late for me.”

“I see,” you went to him, adjusting the sheet on your body, feeling ridiculous for still being undressed. “I guess I’ll see you, right?” You added it while he picked up your stuff on the couch; keys, wallet and the pack of cigarettes. There was no answer for your question.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, heading to the door. “You could come and visit, spend a few days with us. It’d be nice.”

“On tour? Like a groupie?” You wrinkled your nose. His arms wrapping around you. You’d miss it.

He squeezed you into his chest, his tiny beard tickling your cheek. “You know you are much more than just a groupie for me, Y/N.”

You didn’t answer that. He pulled away and for a second you thought he was going to kiss you, but he didn’t.

“See ya Y/N,” instead, he kissed the top of your head. “Think about it, both about comin’ to visit and also about needing a place to stay for a while.”

“I’m sure I will, thank you Ethan,” you watched him, from his rumpled shirt to dark circles under his eyes. He’d always have a special space in your heart. “I guess I’ll see ya then.”

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taglist ( 'cause someone actually wanted to be tagged, i didn't even force anyone😁): @maybanksslut , @oro-e-diamanti