#idk why everything is going wrong today it just is
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treasure-goblin Ā· 6 months ago
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*hitting head on wall*
I'm still an artist
I'm still an artist
I'm still an artist
I'm still an artist
It's ok that I can't always draw
It's ok that I burn out quickly
It's ok that I can't remember to finish things
I'm still an artist
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seventh-district Ā· 10 days ago
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#Sevenā€™s Public Diary#vent#vent post#cw negative#cw health issues#ā€˜Youā€™re such a heartless and hateful person.ā€™ well have you ever considered that iā€™m not really a hateful person and i just hate You#like. call me whatever you want to i guess. im definitely selfish and probably heartless but hateful? idk abt that.#i only feel like i hate people that have given me good fucking reason to. sorry i dont have an infinite supply of tolerance & forgiveness??#but im a wee bit fucking stressed so youā€™ll have to forgive me for being a bitch. well no one Has to forgive me. do whatever you want#ā€˜That 10-day old pasta salad is making me feel sick.ā€™ MF that was made TODAY. ITā€™S FRESH AND THEREā€™S NOTHING WRONG WITH IT#if you feel sick how about you look down at the fifteen empty beer cans on the floor next to you and ask them what they think did it#dumbass. whatever man i have bigger problems than your self-induced tummy ache#i feel sick too but i know itā€™s my fault so iā€™m not bitching about it. i gave you fresh food while I ate the old stuff to keep from wasting#food. because you act like youā€™re fucking allergic to leftovers. and yeah it had probably gone off and thatā€™s why I feel sick#but what you ate tonight was fresh as could be so weā€™re sick for two Very different reasons. and i know how to admit when itā€™s my fault#everything is my fault. my teeth and gums hurt and thatā€™s My fault for not taking care of them. apparently 3 root canals wasnā€™t enough#for me to learn my goddamn lesson. i never do. so iā€™ll have to spend more money on that soon and thats My fault. the dogā€™s teeth need#cleaning too and thatā€™ll come out of my pocket and i guess thatā€™s My fault for not taking care of him either#i think i have another goddamn UTI and thatā€™s definitely My fault so another $100 trip to urgent care it is i guess!#my Random Nerve Pain has moved to my hands so i canā€™t use them too much or it fucking hurts and i guess thatā€™s my fault???#my neck pain is back and thats my fault for not clearing my bed off enough to sleep in a comfortable position#my eye keeps twitching and i guess thatā€™s my fault too. i donā€™t know anymore i just wanna throw in the towel man im so tired#god the UTI tests i wasted money on are arriving tomorrow and if theyā€™re packed in a way that shows whatā€™s inside then iā€™ll have to explain#That to whoever brings in the mail. great great something else to worry about all night#the living room floor is caving in so now thereā€™s Two roomā€™s floors that need fixing so thatā€™s super fucking fun! šŸ˜ƒ#i need to talk to my bank and i need to talk to a tax professional and i need to learn to drive and i need to get an autism diagnosis#well i donā€™t Need the last one but i want it so bad. but im scared. that iā€™ll go to all this trouble and theyā€™ll say i donā€™t qualify#and god itā€™s NYE now. Besties iā€™m not gonna get that NMbD NYE fic ready in time. i just canā€™t make myself write these days. iā€™m sorry.#i doubt anyone is gonna be That disappointed but I Am. in myself. 3 fucking years now iā€™ve failed to finish it. w h y. i Want to write but#thereā€™s just too much on me rn. but when is there Not. sigh. idk what iā€™m gonna do but something needs to change. in my life. soon.
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the-casbah-way Ā· 30 days ago
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i found loads of pictures of my uncle i am going 2 cry
#he looked so sweetā€¦..he looks SO much like my dad#i found the last picture of him that my granddad took a month or so before he died itā€™s so sad#trying to decide if i should tell my mum that i know about him or if i should just keep it to myself#idk if somethings wrong with me maybe itā€™s because i was already grieving before i found out#but itā€™s really getting 2 me i canā€™t concentrate on my uni shit i just keep thinking about it#i think i rlly need to talk about it with someone but i have no idea who or how or what iā€™d say. but itā€™s weird because itā€™s a secret yk#like iā€™m not even supposed to know he existed#idk. i have a gender clinic appointment next week and iā€™m going to ask if they can recommend any therapists#me being very very brave and trying therapy again after being forced into it my whole life and ending up a bit traumatised#idk. i feel bad that iā€™m alive and iā€™m wasting my life when my uncle got killed when he was just a kid#it makes me feel like i should be more grateful and do more with myself.#and i am going to try but iā€™d rather he was here instead. same with my granddad#every time i experience something beautiful or good i wish my granddad could experience it because he deserved it more than me#and the best i can do is experience it for him and be grateful. but i would chance places instantly if i could#him and his kid deserve to be here they were so special. i know i donā€™t know his kid but iā€™ve heard they were similar#so i know he must have been special too#i found a fb comment today from a family friend iā€™ve never met and she was saying that she only met my granddad once#but she called him gentle and it made me cry. because he was very scottish and sweary and traditional and masculine#so everyone just assumed he was tough and scary but if you knew him he was really quiet and kind#and iā€™m glad someone who only met him once could see that#iā€™m going to be half asleep for the rest of my life i think. iā€™ve been dreaming since my granddad died and i donā€™t feel like i ever woke up#nothing has felt real since i was nine years old. everything just stopped and never started again#iā€™ve just been waiting. iā€™m waiting for him to change his mind and come back. idk. i donā€™t know what to do with myself#and i continuously feel fucking insane and stupid for being this way. itā€™s like fresh grief all the fucking time#but it was fifteen years ago. why does it still feel this way#i canā€™t even tell people because they wonā€™t understand why iā€™m still so bothered by it#he was my parent for nine years. i lived with him he was my sole caretaker#i was nonverbal and him and my brother were the only people on the planet who knew what my voice sounded like#heā€™d think it was silly if i failed my exam because i was crying about him instead#heā€™d tell me to whisht and stick in. so i will
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strangerhands Ā· 10 months ago
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mmmmm heyyyšŸ‘ļø. ive basically been gone from tumblr for over two days because ive been feeling like a shitty piece of shit. BUT. i finally saw dune part 2 and ohmygoddddd it was so so good. but yes. i was missing leto so bad the entire time. Father come back pls. i need you.
#it was so good tho#like so cool i was internally freaking out about how cool things looked#the fight scenesšŸ¤Œ#the environments/settingsšŸ¤Œ#all of the fuckin machineryšŸ¤Œ#the actingšŸ¤Œ#the everythingšŸ¤Œ#yum#also i dont find austin butler attractive but funnily enough feyd was the only time ive found him hotšŸ˜­ yes i have issues. but like. okayyy..#i watched it alone and i wish doing things alone wasnt seen as such a weird or sad thing like. theres nothing wrong with it#sorta vent->#but basically ive been feeling like an annoying piece of shit so ive been staying off of here for the most part#because ive been convincing myself no one likes me and everyone in my life would be better off without mešŸ˜šŸ˜#just tee bee ehch#and idk i was just feeling like ass and was doing nothing and when i finally would go to use tumblr i was already too tired to do shit#so i just went to sleep#and i was busy today#yesterday*#and ill probably be a bit busy today too but idk maybe hopefully ill catch up a bit#idk ya boys just been hating himself like usual but not as usual bc it was worse but it is what it is#i felt a bit better yesterday though#and also my new antidepressants ive been on havent been doing shit for me so im going back to a previous one i used to be on so yea#hopefully that helps soonish idk#i never vent on here so i feel kinda bad for doing so but i just wanted to puke my thoughts here#also since im already here complaining ive just like. not written at allllllll basically like i got into my head and made myself discouraged#so. that sucks. but also nothing out of the ordinary there#why does Everything i say sound so embarrassingly depressing and pathetic hhhhhhhgggggggggggggghhhghghg#anyways yea i was doing bad im still not doing good but hopefully will be a bit better so ill be back and caught up later today or tomorrow#idk if anyone gave a fuck or noticed but i just like complaining into the void so yea#talkin shit
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volivolition Ā· 9 months ago
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not doing well tonight folks! but yet we persist šŸ’Ŗ
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ghost-of-a-girl Ā· 5 months ago
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i wonder if I'll lose my job today šŸ¤”
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skyeateyourdonuts Ā· 1 year ago
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weeoo
#this is gonna be me talking in tags today#ive been rather sleep deprived lately trying to keep up with everything around me#and its been taking a toll on my health like#if i go too long like this i tend to feel more lethargic and my allergies kick in#i got a sore throat bc my room has been Freezing and then i get headaches way way easier#often times my face will flush but its just my nose and idk why#well anyways lmao i just aint feelin great due to lack of sleep#so i emailed my teachers and stayed home and others might say this wasnt it#but i can barely get to sleep at all these days and just bed ridding myself#seemed like the only way for my body to be like#'fine šŸ™„ u can sleep' lmao#thats actually one of the worst symptoms is im restless i just Cant grt to sleep no matter how hard i try#ive had a couple days where i was running on 2-3 hours bc i spent even longer Laying there#anyways i hope this makes a difference im tired of feeling tired and shitty#luckily my mood has weirdly been high#its just my sleep and health that are low#i think when the sleepiest soldiers are unable to get sleep thats when u know smths wrong#i think also so much is happening and me trying to keep up is taking more outta me than i expected#im a gal who gets overwhelmed easily even if im happy w whats happening lmao#tho im not Happy im more In a Good Mood lmao#side tangent but i HATE being an adult who doesnt have like idk Help lmao#like my dad was so nice to me sometimes and helped me sometimes#i could go a whole day sleeping bc id be fucking exhausted#and hed qake me up and ask me when i last ate and if i couldnt decide but itd been too long#hed make smth for the both pf us or hed make it For me and id just be able to like recover lmao#ah adulthood is hard lmao#alright im done#gata#no need to read <3 yall
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imflyingfish Ā· 7 months ago
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I gotta be less hard on myself. Annoyingly i know that my best work comes from when i am hard on myself. But i keep stopping myself from doing things i want to due to perfectionism. Annoying.
#atm i feel like im just chasing interest after interest after interest#ive been working on my mimecraft base a lot but i have. complex feelings about the base atm#im happy with it and its paradise.#its too paradise that it makes me unsettled#which is nonsense its my place and my build#but i feel a lot of pressure to make it perfect#even though I and vee are the only ones who go there and i dont really care about the likes on my posts anymore#it still makes me feel. odd.#i love the work though i love the style and i love using it as a means to imagine a better world#atm im really enjoying just spending time on the server hanging out with vee#but i get into my own head a lot about the base#its not even just the base im talking about everything but the base is the example#i built a bit of a weird interior today i just went crazy with the terracotta and the plants and a pool of water#and i keep thinking on if it was the 'right' thing to do#and if i will be able to complete it properly to a high enough standard#it also doesnt help that ive improved over the course of the last 2 years in building#so now my house looks off and weird and theres trees that need to be taken down and paths that are over textured#but i find the process of doing it and the feeling of completion really deep and important#i dont know. i feel like im constantly in a battle of pushing myself to be better but limiting myself at the same time by having fun or sthn#i feel like i should be making youtube videos or at least prepping to#but i havent because i cant figure out how to organise mods and its freaking me out. theres just loads of excuses stopping me#i dont know.#the annoying thing is pushing myself creatively has resulted in massive benefits for me lately creatively#partly i think why im feeling odd with the base atm is because ive suddenly gone for being barely able to play an hour a night to having all#the time in the world so its created a sudden influx in development#idk. this is rambly#fish talks#i want to download a minec@ft map and remove the suburban housing to replace with higher density properties becsuse ive been watching too#much socialist urban planning videos again and c1t1es skyl1nes just isnt cutting the cheese rn#thats the wrong saying. fandoms censored to avoid crosstagging
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vampiremourning Ā· 2 years ago
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#anyway the most exciting conversation I had today was explaining how I managed to fuck up the dogā€™s haircut#(heā€™s squirmy thatā€™s it thatā€™s the reason)#moving on though the main issue is I still need like. the crutch of being online almost#and I guess even though it feels awkward and lowkey uncool Iā€™m glad there are apps for people just looking to find friends#downside is I can forget theyā€™re there bc the notifs donā€™t work great#or I panic because Iā€™m too hyper aware of myself with new people. why canā€™t this be easy whatā€™s wrong with me#I get embarrassed by how much longer my replies are than the other personā€™s#I canā€™t help it I guess#if itā€™s short I feel like itā€™s coming off inauthentic so I overcorrect#but then conversation kinda fizzles anyway. which is okay! not everyone will be a winner and thatā€™s fine#I know this and it makes me feel slightly better#still I just feel like. dumb I guess. in all these interactions.#thatā€™s the word. because Iā€™m perfectly comfortable with myself until I feel like i start to notice That Change in someoneone#anyone else who gets told they give off Uncanny Valley energy knows what this is.#like I can tell I did something wrong but on paper I did everything right#and I just kinda fold every time. bc thereā€™s usually no salvaging a conversation past that point.#itā€™s Not that itā€™s easier to be alone bc Iā€™m not having a good time clearly but something drives me to keep going despite it all#idk itā€™s stupid I wish I could just cut this feeling out and detach completely#I know it wouldnā€™t bother me to be pushed slowly away at least.#Iā€™d really be the person who solved the lament configuration just to Hang Out lmao#I wish I didnā€™t make posts like these here btw.#that also makes me feel dumb but itā€™s like if I donā€™t at least put this down somewhere itā€™d be worse#I think tomorrow Iā€™ll clean a bit. itā€™ll be something to do that has a visible result.#not like anything else thatā€™s going on lol
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seventh-district Ā· 1 year ago
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oh nice! the Matt fic posted itself at the correct time
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manygreetingsfriend Ā· 2 years ago
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mosspapi Ā· 6 months ago
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Man idk when or why I randomly developed a huge insecurity abt my hair but I would like to go back please
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darkdragon768 Ā· 8 months ago
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It is yet another day where I just lost motivation for anything. Like, I just wanna go to sleep. But it's only 8 pm and school starts late tomorrow. I can't waste my evening like that.
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julymusings Ā· 2 months ago
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dark chocolate cherry
i want to bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. i want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
or; your boyfriend shows up when you just want some alone time [3.2k]
jason todd x fem!reader; reader gets her period and describes painful symptoms; just fluff; jason "words don't come easy so here's acts of service" todd this is earlier in the relationship which is why he's still a little shy but she knows he's red hood? idk man. i was just going with it; can you guess what inspired this? (everything is awful)
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The day started at 2 AM when you woke to shooting pains in your abdomen and blood everywhere. It continued until 2:45 while you cleaned yourself, changed clothes, put on a fresh pad, took some painkillers, and changed the sheets. It paused for about an hour until you woke up again at 4:00, courtesy of Gothamā€™s patented night-life that had taught you to completely tune out the sound of police sirens. Tonight, however, they werenā€™t tuning out.
The sirens quieted at 4:10, by which angry tears collected in the corners of your eyes as you flopped around in bed in an attempt to get comfortable. No matter what you did, there was always something wrong; the pillow was too hard, the blanket was too scratchy, the position hurt your arm.
From 4:11 to 4:12, you screamed into your pillow.
By 4:15 you had settled in front of the TV with a bowl of dry cereal (it took everything in you not to cry over the lack of milk in your fridge), a heating pad, and your favorite comfort show queued up.
At 8 AM you managed to drag yourself to work, where you half-assed the dayā€™s tasks, took a 15-minute break to cry in your car, then dipped out a half-hour early.
Now, at 5 PM on a Friday evening, youā€™re curled into the fetal position in front of your TV with your comfort show resumed and your trusty heating pad cranked to the highest setting. Prepared to spend the entire night here, you already changed into pajamas and kept a couple blankets within reach. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, and you stretch to reach it, careful not to lose your comfortable position or roll off the couch.
Jason About to leave Be there in 20
You groan out loud. You want to throw your phone across the room, but decide against it because no amount of hormones from hell are worth six hundred dollars. Youā€™re still angry, though, for being so stupid as to forget about the date you had planned for tonight. Scrolling up to earlier messages, you see another text from today wishing you a good morning and telling you he was excited to see you tonight. But, too down to bother checking any messages today, you had missed it.
You I canā€™t tonight anymore Iā€™m sorry I donā€™t feel great
After hitting send, you place your phone on the ground, not even having the energy to reach for the coffee table again. Or the energy to lift your arm back up, apparently, given how it hangs limply over the edge of the couch. You feel guilty about cancelling, but you are in no state to go out tonight. Youā€™re used to the symptoms of your period hitting so hard. As much as you and Jason care about each other, youā€™re not sure youā€™re ready for him to see you like this. Youā€™ve managed to plan your relationship around your hormone cycle so far, but today it came early.
Your phoneā€™s buzzing is muffled by the rug, and you almost donā€™t hear it. Jasonā€™s photo is displayed on the screen.
Your hanging hand clicks ā€˜answerā€™ and puts it on speaker so you can take the call without moving from how you're curled up.
ā€œIs everything okay? Whatā€™s wrong?ā€
ā€œNothing, Iā€™m fine, I just donā€™t feel up for going out tonight. Iā€™d rather stay home.ā€
ā€œDid something happen?ā€
ā€œNo, I just got my period so Iā€™m not really in the mood.ā€
ā€œOkay, we can stay in tonight. What do you feel like eating? I can pick something up.ā€
ā€œNo, Jasonā€¦I want to stay home alone tonight.ā€
Thereā€™s a beat of silence on the other end of the line.
ā€œOkayā€¦did I do something?ā€ His voice comes out a little smaller.
ā€œNo, youā€™re fine, I promise. I just donā€™t feel like seeing anyone right now.ā€
ā€œā€¦Not even me?ā€
Your hand presses against your temples to soothe the building tension headache. The self-doubt in his tone brings the anguish of the entire day bubbling up your throat. You feel like the worst person in the world. Exactly how you donā€™t want him to see you.
ā€œJasonā€¦itā€™s not you. I justā€¦I feel like shit right now, honestly. Everything hurts, Iā€™m miserable and sad and angry at everything, Iā€™m breaking out all over.ā€ You feel yourself welling up at all these little stresses coming out. ā€œIā€™m craving everything but feel too sick to eat anythingā€¦I feel pretty disgusting right now, and frankly, I donā€™t want you to see me like this.ā€ You finish your rant with a sniffle. You wipe your nose, trying to hold back the sob thatā€™s threatening to break through. But at his silence, your worst, most improbable fears claw their way to the surface: he hates you now. You scared him away. You exhale heavily into your sleeve as more tears spill.
The phone is quiet for a long moment.Ā  Then; ā€œI could never find you disgusting,ā€ he says, gently. ā€œBut if thatā€™s what you want, then weā€™ll reschedule.ā€
ā€œThank you. And sorry.ā€
He speaks with a tone you canā€™t quite parse. ā€œDonā€™t apologize. Just feel better.ā€
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Itā€™s one hour after your phone call, and at the first knock, you know who it is. Who else could it be? With that soft, somewhat hesitant, one-knuckle rap on the door. Only one person knocks on your door like that.
ā€œJason, I told you not to come here,ā€ you say a little more cutting than you intend to, but your back and shoulders feel like theyā€™re about to snap under a phantom pressure and the frustration of your request being outright ignored leaves a burning bitterness that channels itself into a violent wrenching open of the door.
He jumps a little at the abruptness of your greeting. One look at your face and he visibly deflates.
ā€œIā€™m sorryā€¦I know you said not to come, butā€¦ā€ his gaze casts downward to his hands. You follow; heā€™s clutching a reusable grocery bag. Peeking out of the top is a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream. The ice cream cartonā€™s condensation seeped through a small patch of the cloth bag and dripped onto the other items; a bushel of greens, among some other fruits and vegetables, as well as a parcel of brown paper that was fastened closed with a twine string. You return your gaze to his face.
ā€œI thinkā€”ā€ he cuts himself off, free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Then he drops his hand and sighs. ā€œIā€™m sorry. This was a bad idea. You told me not to come here and I ignored you, but I thoughtā€¦ā€ he trails off, probably hoping youā€™ll say something so he can gauge your reaction.
You just stare at him.
He shifts his weight back and forth. His hand twitches.
ā€œOkay, yeah, Iā€™llā€”ā€
Then, you burst into tears.
Jasonā€™s eyes widen. He reaches out to touch you, then stops himself. ā€œOh, fuck, Iā€™m sorry! Iā€™m sorry, this was stupid. Please stop crying, Iā€™m so sorryā€”ā€ Heā€™s panicked, trying to calm you down with apologies and soothing assurances that he will leave immediately and never go against your wishes again. All the while you stand in the doorway, blubbering like a toddler with a skinned knee, new tears forming faster than you can wipe the old ones away.
He once again raises a hand towards you, before it stutters, then clenches into a fist as if it takes all his strength to fight against the instinct to be close to you, fighting against the string that tethers him to you. He drags his hand down his face, then it falls back to his side.
ā€œOkay, Iā€”Iā€™m leaving now. Iā€™m leaving. Do youā€¦want this?ā€ He holds the bag out to you.
With it now in front of you, its further contents are visible. You manage to tamp down your tears enough to get a few words out.
ā€œDid youā€”hicā€”buy me groceries?ā€
ā€œYeahā€¦ā€ Thereā€™s a wince in his tone, as if heā€™s only now realizing that his gesture is not translating as he intended.
You look back up at him with pursed lips and knitted brows, sniffling. Sure, the ice cream you can understand, butā€¦you have no idea what to make of the rest.
The bag drops back to his side. ā€œI figuredā€¦itā€™s justā€” itā€™s the stuff that youā€™re supposed toā€”ā€ He strokes his palm over his mouth, eyes screwing shut for a moment. He huffs at himself, then continues. ā€œI mean Iā€™m sure you already know all of this, so maybe you already have all these things, and now Iā€™m realizing how unnecessary all this was, and I shouldnā€™t have assumedā€”ā€
ā€œJason,ā€ you say. Your upset has since been overshadowed by something else, though you canā€™t tell what it is. And your crying has stopped, but its lingering effects have you feeling congested and a little foggy. Youā€™re half expecting this to be a fever dream that youā€™re moments away from waking up from in a cold sweat.
ā€œā€”because obviously you know what helps you feel better much more than I doā€”ā€
ā€œJason.ā€
ā€œAnd youā€” yeah?ā€ His eyes are a little harried when they find yours again. But off your tired and still-confused look, he gets the message and collects himself.
ā€œRight, yeah, I just thought thatā€¦maybe I could bring you some of the stuff with all those minerals that are supposed to help women when theyā€™reā€¦menstruating.ā€ He briefly breaks eye contact at the end of his sentence, red rouge creeping up his neck.
You canā€™t help it; you start to giggle. You canā€™t remember the last time you heard a man use the term ā€˜menstruatingā€™ in a non-medical context. And the fact that heā€™s so shy about itā€” upset as you may be (though not at him), thereā€™s no denying how adorable your boyfriend is. His head shoots back to you as your laughter intensifies. He blushes harder.
ā€œItā€™s not that funny,ā€ he mutters.
You step away from the door, finally closing the space between you, and wrap your arms around his torso. Your head nestles into his chest. He gently drops the grocery bag on the ground and reciprocates your hug. He rests his chin on your head, which fits perfectly under his. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. You breathe him in.
ā€œSorry Iā€™m such a mess,ā€ you murmur into his shirt.
He breathes into your hair. ā€œYou have nothing to apologize for. And youā€™re not a mess.ā€
You look up, chin resting in the space between his collarbones. He looks down at you with a small smile, but some wariness is still etched into his features. Fear of unwittingly upsetting you again. He brings up a hand to push some hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. His hand remains there, toying with the hair that falls below your shoulder.
"Thank you for the food,ā€ you whisper. The moment feels too intimate to speak any other way.
ā€œIā€™m sorry for not listening to you. I justā€¦ā€ He imitates your quietness, like his admission is also too vulnerable to say loudly. ā€œI really wanted to see you. And I hated the idea of you feeling bad about yourself, or being in pain. I didnā€™t mean to upset you.ā€
Your eyes feel wet again. The first instinct is to hide your face, maybe press it to his chest once more. But, for some reason, you donā€™t. You want him to see you like this, messy and emotional and upset. You want him to see every part of you, and you want to see every part of him, the good and the bad.
ā€œYou didnā€™t.ā€ A tear slips past the effort to keep it at bay. He shows no reaction to it, eyes never leaving yours, other than a quick swiping away with his thumb. ā€œNo oneā€™s ever done anything like this for me before. Thatā€™s why I was crying. Not because you showed up.ā€
ā€œThat doesnā€™t seem right. This is nothing. You deserve even more.ā€
With no words to fully, adequately communicate the blooming in your chest, you stand on your toes, reaching up to him for a kiss. But given his stature, your lips only reach his chin and brush over its underside.
At your quiet whine, he chuckles and leans down to meet you in the middle. The kiss is soft; filled with the innocence of fresh blossoms in the spring, and the sweetness of its borne fruit.
You pull away when a vicious cramp roots you back to the present. Your limps tighten around Jason with a groan.
ā€œI need to go back inside. Iā€™ve been away from my heating pad for too long.ā€
His shoulders sag when you step away from him. ā€œOh, umā€¦do you stillā€¦want me to leave?ā€
With a simple exhale of humorous disbelief, you grasp his hand in yours and tug him to your front door. Heā€™s like an excited puppy, eyes brightened and perking up as he grabs the grocery bag and happily trails after you.
He goes straight to the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the counter for you to settle into, then sets the bag on the counter. The ice cream carton has dampened most of the cloth by now, and likely the rest of its contents, but rather than attending to the groceries, his first action is retrieving your heating pad from where it rests on the couch. He unplugs it from the wall outlet and brings it to you. You curl up on the chair with it pressed flat against your lower stomach. It only takes a minute for the pressure in your hips to abate.
Then he moves to the groceries. The ice cream immediately goes in the freezer, and he unloads whatā€™s remaining onto the counter, one by one, and you take note of each item. Thereā€™s spinach, carrots, apples, oranges, dark chocolate, some kind of meat wrapped in brown paper, and, strangely enough, an entire block of cheese.
You give him a quizzical look, picking it up to read the label. ā€œYou got meā€¦cheddar cheese?ā€
He retrieves a cutting board and knife from its spot next to the sink, then takes the cheese from you. ā€œGood for certain symptoms.ā€ He slices open the plastic wrapping and cuts out some cubes with skilled efficiency. He does the same with an apple. ā€œThey all are,ā€ he says, referring to his entire haul. He completes the makeshift charcuterie board with a couple squares of dark chocolate and slides it across the counter.
You look down at the cutting board, thinking about everything heā€™s done for you; everything you never even had to ask for. The words sit on your tongue, encaged by your clenched teeth; an admission that coils itself around your spine and squeezes tight, restricts your breathing and pumps your heart at thrice its speed. But you feel yourself welling up again, and the first bout of tears already exhausted you so much that all you can manage is, ā€œI donā€™t know what to do with all this. I donā€™t have the energy to make anything good.ā€
But he just smiles and says, ā€œThatā€™s what Iā€™m here for, honey. Can I make you something?ā€
You nod. He gets to work. The immediacy of his actions, how he takes no time to decide on a dish or find a recipe, makes you think his previously stated intentions of ā€˜just dropping this offā€™ were less genuine than he lead you to believe. Nevertheless, you munch on the snacks he laid out for you and watch him work. The cheese and apples are a surprisingly cohesive combination, the meshing of sweet crispiness and savory creaminess eliciting a contented sigh from you. You try to ignore the way Jason smirks in the corner of your periphery. The chocolate is incredible, yet unfamiliar. You read the label on the packaging: 80% Dark Chocolate with Cherry and Almond Filling. Even if you hadnā€™t tasted it yet, the quality of the packaging itself would have been enough to let you know that this chocolate is extremely high-quality. Like, special-order-from-Europe quality. Not stop-at-the-grocery-store-on-the-way-home quality.
ā€œWhere is this from? Did you buy this today?ā€ You ask him through a mouthful of the rich, melting chocolate.
He doesnā€™t look up from the carrots heā€™s dicing. ā€œUhā€¦no.ā€
Anyone else would attribute his avoidance of eye-contact to standard kitchen-knife caution. You are not anyone else. You could blindfold him, spin him around ten times, put a sharp knife in his hand, and he could still pull off a perfect julienne. You look closer. His cheeks are dusted with pink.
You let out a laugh. ā€œJason, youā€™re not embarrassed about liking fancy chocolate, are you?ā€
ā€œNo! Not at all,ā€ he says, ceasing his chopping. He looks up, but not quite at you.
ā€œThen?ā€
ā€œā€˜Thenā€™ what?ā€ He asks.
ā€œThen why are you being so shifty right now?ā€ You try to catch his gaze.
ā€œIā€™m not!ā€ He defends. ā€œItā€™s just chocolate! Do you like it? Iā€™ll bring you more.ā€ Heā€™s stealthy with the way he avoids your eyes; you almost canā€™t notice how hard heā€™s trying not to make eye contact.
ā€œJason!ā€ You reach across the counter, having to rise off the chair slightly, and take his face in your hands, making him look at you. When he does, he wears a sheepish smile.
ā€œItā€™sā€¦ā€ His removes your hands from his face, holding them in his. He mumbles something, turning his head to the side. But you catch the tail end of it, a goading grin already creeping up your face.
ā€œWhat was that?ā€ You tilt your ear towards him, exaggerating the action.
ā€œItā€™s Bruceā€™s.ā€ He, in turn, exaggerates the enunciation, rolling his eyes at your simpering. ā€œIā€¦found it. In his pantry one day. And I liked it, so I took it. And then Iā€¦kept taking it. Every time I visited.ā€
You pout teasingly. ā€œAnd youā€™re ashamed to admit that you think he has good taste in something?ā€
He doesnā€™t say anything, only hiding his face in his shoulder. You pull on your intertwined hands and he gets the message, skirting around the kitchen counter to come closer.
ā€œYou are so adorable, you know that?ā€ You say. You reach up and pinch his cheeks. He swats your hands away, but thereā€™s no mistaking his broad, childish grin for anything but affection.
He breaks off another square from the chocolate bar and holds it to your lips. You bite off a small portion, then push it back to him. He takes the remaining piece in his mouth and his eyes close for a brief moment as he savors the sweet, tart, and nutty flavors. You simply watch, entranced by him. Then, he kisses you. You lean into it, hands sliding up his shirt to grip the fabric and bring him even closer. His hold finds your waist.
He tastes like cherries and dark chocolate.
He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead on yours, and you want to tell him that. That, and so much more. But from the look on his face, the way his eyes find yours and the tips of his ears have a similar heat to the one in your chest, you can tell he already knows.
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when it comes to jason's post-pit-repressed-teenager characterization (aka despite being older he's still as inexperienced and confused and insecure about the world outside of vigilantism and w/ women as a 15 y/o would be) (aka my favorite characterization tee hee), i think that he's mature about periods, knows they're normal and not gross or shameful etc, but still gets shy about saying the actual word, for no other reason than the 'shy around women' part always makes me giggle
also bruce is keeping the chocolate stocked specifically because he knows jason likes it and will keep taking it because he loves his son even if his son doesn't love him (he does he's just in his angsty teen 'i hate this family you don't understand me' phase rn)
divider is from here
quote at the beginning is pablo neruda <3
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insanechayne Ā· 2 years ago
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#feeling very foolish today#why did I so immediately make so many concessions to you rather than just speak my actual thoughts?#why didnā€™t I try harder to clarify so that there were no miscommunication issues?#why did I let you just snap at me and rollover so quickly with a dozen apologies?#I donā€™t even really think I was in the wrong for having asked my initial question that started the bullshit#but I let your anger cloud me and let myself believe I was wrong just because you were angry#I guess Iā€™m just so much more afraid of losing you than I am of hurting myself#but idk Iā€™m really fucking angry myself right now#and mostly Iā€™m angry at my own dumb self because I didnā€™t communicate well or clarify and yeah truly thatā€™s on me#but thereā€™s so much more I want to say to you and I want to yell back at you#tell you all the ways youā€™ve hurt me and how you pushed me to this point#but what would it matter now#doing so would only cause another fight and then Iā€™d probably lose you for real#and I donā€™t want to go through that kind of pain#Iā€™ll do damn near anything to keep a friend even if theyā€™re not good for me and youā€™re clearly no exception to that#so Iā€™ll just let it go I guess#try not to let it fester in my mind and in my chest every time I see your name/icon here#try to just be normal and a good friend and let everything be alright#you just want a friend and I can do that#Iā€™ll even give you space and pull my personality back to make sure youā€™re comfortable#and everything will be fine in the end wonā€™t it#personal
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dear-ao3 Ā· 7 days ago
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friends, besties, worsties, davids, and meow meows of the jury. i have a tale for you. while i claim to be no bard (like saph, the queen of very long dramatic tumblr stories that make your heart weep), i must spin a wee bit of yarn in the form of a story. what story? a story of the green cake.
we shall, as most stories do, start almost at the beginning.
the date? january 2nd.
the time? late.
the occasion? saph comes home the third.
the problem? i have no butter or sugar.
now, saph's birthday was recently, so like any other best bud i said i was making a cake. i believe my exact words were 'i'm making you a cake whether you like it or not."
now, gang, i must level with you. this is the fourth cake i've made in my life. i am a reasonably good baker (i can bake a Mean Loaf of Bread), but i'm not a very experienced baker. 3/4 cakes were reasonably good, and only one was just slightly off. so, my track record is mixed, but i am hopeful.
now, let me take you to the present.
i am sitting at my dining room table, typing this post. i am wearing a shirt covered in flour, the green cake is in the oven.
how did i get here?
well, we won't go to the beginning. we've already seen what was basically the beginning, with me having no butter or sugar. the real story begins the morning of january 3rd. which is today. which is when saph comes home, expecting a green cake. as most reasonably well adjusted people do when their roommates parents are visiting, i stressed cleaned the entire apartment at 4am, after realizing the mice in my walls are fucking. i did not leave them a condom. i did not have one that would fit them. i can only hope they have plan b. so naturally, i went to bed at 6am.
and i still had no sugar or butter for the green cake for saph.
and i needed to get started on this cake before 10am, or saph would be here before it was finished.
and i went to bed at 6am. so naturally i set my 9:00, 9:02, 9:04, 9:06 alarms, and hoped i'd lock in when i woke up.
friends, i hate to admit it, but i did not lock in. nay, i slept through all of my alarms and woke up at roughly 9:45. it was cold, damp, and the mice were still probably fucking. i threw my hair into a messy bun, and ran downstairs, only to find my mom was selling me to one direction.
jk. it was far worse.
because saph said she had sent me something.
what did saph send me?
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a full poster of david malukas! do i know why? no! but he lives in my kitchen now, providing me with mental support. thanks david!
so, i begin to make the cake after laughing for about 10 minutes about why david is now in my apartment. it starts off surprisingly well. i have not forgotten the salt.
everything is normal.
until i remember.
the cake needs to be green.
why? idk thats what saph said she wanted so i am just going to do what i was told to do and make this damn cake green.
but its now late in the process, and if there is one thing i have learned in all my years of watching the great british baking show with my mom, it is to never over beat your cake.
and my cake, right now, was perfect. trust me. i ate plenty of dough to know it was wonderful.
so now i am trying to figure out how to make the most perfect shade of nico rosberg green, feeling a bit like an alchemist. david malukas is staring me down. my time grows shorter and shorter with each beat.
and then, gang, i had to give up on this being nico rosberg green. i did not want to kill my cake. my green cake. my now mint-green cake that i am baking for saph. so naturally i'm like, okay, time to pour this.
easy, right?
WRONG.
so one thing to know about me is i suck at cutting things.
it's unfortunately a key ingredient in cake making that you have a stupid little circle on the bottom of your cake tins. i cut it the best i could. which was bad. so i'm already fighting demons trying to get the stupid parchment paper from sliding every which way, and then, my friends, i realized something horrible.
the batter had not mixed at the bottom. so now i was fighting even more demons and trying not to get loose flour in my cake.
i think i succeeded. only time will tell. david is watching. the cake is almost done.
i am setting the green cake free.
look upon him now, and weep. the green cake prevails! even though he doesn't look very green yet.
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and now, for the hardest part. frosting.
let's see how that goes.
david still watches.
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