#idk why everything is going wrong today it just is
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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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#Sevenās Public Diary#vent#vent post#cw negative#cw health issues#āYouāre such a heartless and hateful person.ā well have you ever considered that iām 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 youāll have to forgive me for being a bitch. well no one Has to forgive me. do whatever you want#āThat 10-day old pasta salad is making me feel sick.ā MF that was made TODAY. ITāS FRESH AND THEREāS 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 itās my fault so iām not bitching about it. i gave you fresh food while I ate the old stuff to keep from wasting#food. because you act like youāre fucking allergic to leftovers. and yeah it had probably gone off and thatās why I feel sick#but what you ate tonight was fresh as could be so weāre sick for two Very different reasons. and i know how to admit when itās my fault#everything is my fault. my teeth and gums hurt and thatās My fault for not taking care of them. apparently 3 root canals wasnāt enough#for me to learn my goddamn lesson. i never do. so iāll have to spend more money on that soon and thats My fault. the dogās teeth need#cleaning too and thatāll come out of my pocket and i guess thatās My fault for not taking care of him either#i think i have another goddamn UTI and thatās 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 canāt use them too much or it fucking hurts and i guess thatās 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 thatās my fault too. i donāt 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 theyāre packed in a way that shows whatās inside then iāll 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 thereās Two roomās floors that need fixing so thatās super fucking fun! š#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 donāt Need the last one but i want it so bad. but im scared. that iāll go to all this trouble and theyāll say i donāt qualify#and god itās NYE now. Besties iām not gonna get that NMbD NYE fic ready in time. i just canāt make myself write these days. iām sorry.#i doubt anyone is gonna be That disappointed but I Am. in myself. 3 fucking years now iāve failed to finish it. w h y. i Want to write but#thereās just too much on me rn. but when is there Not. sigh. idk what iām gonna do but something needs to change. in my life. soon.
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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 itās 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 itās because i was already grieving before i found out#but itās really getting 2 me i canāt 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 iād say. but itās weird because itās a secret yk#like iām not even supposed to know he existed#idk. i have a gender clinic appointment next week and iām 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 iām alive and iām 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 iād 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 donāt know his kid but iāve heard they were similar#so i know he must have been special too#i found a fb comment today from a family friend iāve 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 iām glad someone who only met him once could see that#iām going to be half asleep for the rest of my life i think. iāve been dreaming since my granddad died and i donāt feel like i ever woke up#nothing has felt real since i was nine years old. everything just stopped and never started again#iāve just been waiting. iām waiting for him to change his mind and come back. idk. i donāt know what to do with myself#and i continuously feel fucking insane and stupid for being this way. itās like fresh grief all the fucking time#but it was fifteen years ago. why does it still feel this way#i canāt even tell people because they wonāt understand why iām 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#heād think it was silly if i failed my exam because i was crying about him instead#heād tell me to whisht and stick in. so i will
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mmmmm heyyyšļø. 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 scenesš¤#the environments/settingsš¤#all of the fuckin machineryš¤#the actingš¤#the everythingš¤#yum#also i dont find austin butler attractive but funnily enough feyd was the only time ive found him hotš 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 mešš#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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not doing well tonight folks! but yet we persist šŖ
#chemi chats#tried to draw today and it felt awful. all my brushes felt wrong and anything i tried to draw felt shit. so i stopped that.#art's not going. writing's barely going. everything seems to just make me feel sad.#tried listening to music. and reading skills fics. and playing some games. and eating and drinking water but im still not feeling good.#feelin really tired and restless and frustrated and annoying. rsd calm down nothing's even happening dude. chill.#just. not feeling great and i don't know why... oh well. we persist!! we keep going!! it's gonna be okay eventually šŖāØ#(<- funny silly emojis) i think i'll eat an orange and then maybe sleep? or write some more? idk creative endeavors seem like a wash :/!#alas :l#edit: oh shit hello the furies i will listen to your cool songs and answer your ask soon <3
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i wonder if I'll lose my job today š¤
#asked to take the day off#the person i texted saw me on the verge of a panic attack#go into the bathroom for 10min to cry#and then rush to leave lmao#but i took a monday off laaaast week? or the week before#i just started this job#i am actually so much more incompetent than i thought#i feel so dumb for thinking this would work out#he hasnt texted back so i think this is a bad sign#we're ahead but someone else will also not be there today#idk#i do everything wrong#so why would they even want me there
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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 š 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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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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#anyway the most exciting conversation I had today was explaining how I managed to fuck up the dogās haircut#(heās squirmy thatās it thatās 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 Iām glad there are apps for people just looking to find friends#downside is I can forget theyāre there bc the notifs donāt work great#or I panic because Iām too hyper aware of myself with new people. why canāt this be easy whatās wrong with me#I get embarrassed by how much longer my replies are than the other personās#I canāt help it I guess#if itās short I feel like itās coming off inauthentic so I overcorrect#but then conversation kinda fizzles anyway. which is okay! not everyone will be a winner and thatās fine#I know this and it makes me feel slightly better#still I just feel like. dumb I guess. in all these interactions.#thatās the word. because Iām 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 thereās usually no salvaging a conversation past that point.#itās Not that itās easier to be alone bc Iām not having a good time clearly but something drives me to keep going despite it all#idk itās stupid I wish I could just cut this feeling out and detach completely#I know it wouldnāt bother me to be pushed slowly away at least.#Iād really be the person who solved the lament configuration just to Hang Out lmao#I wish I didnāt make posts like these here btw.#that also makes me feel dumb but itās like if I donāt at least put this down somewhere itād be worse#I think tomorrow Iāll clean a bit. itāll be something to do that has a visible result.#not like anything else thatās going on lol
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oh nice! the Matt fic posted itself at the correct time
#Seven.txt#writing stuff#š§· Matt šØ#i usually wait around for whatever time i want my finished and ready-to-go drafted posts to go up so i can do it manually#but then it occurred to me that i could like. make use of the scheduling feature and just set it and forget it#but i was actually keeping an eye on that one to see if it went up at the right time cause i scheduled it for today#but then it said it was set for Sunday at 7 and not Saturday. so i was like okay i'll just. wait and see what it does#but it went up when i wanted it to! (still don't know why it said Sunday in the queue tho...)#anyways this is a lot of worrying and rambling abt a post that no one will read anyways bc No One knows who Matt is and that fic is Dark#(even tho the numbers for it on Ao3 are Tiny the kudos to hits ratio is good though!!)#(so hopefully that means that those who do read it seemed to enjoy it. or appreciate it? it's a weird fucking fic man idk)#(the kudos are Greatly appreciated nonetheless)#but that's okey i just wanted to get it out of my drafts and posted anyways. and also kinda use it to test the scheduling feature#but bc i'm a control freak who needs to Do Everything Myself anyways i'll probably keep doing stuff manually#or schedule posts and then sit around and wait for them to go up anyways just to make sure nothing goes wrong lmao#okay rambling over. back to work#well actually i'm gonna go grab dinner. i haven't. ate yet today. and then back to work!
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#man i am losing my fuckign MIND like actually going clinically insane this time!#had a huge fun cry out breakdown during lunch during my therapy session today š¤Ŗš¤Ŗš¤Ŗ#and this bitch had the audacity to come at me exactly like iām paying him to#iām. genuinely distraught hahaha#heās saying that instead of just having the longest list of diagnoses ever now PLUS c-ptsd#he thinks itās c-ptsd causing most of the other shit#which! fine! whatever! that would be SUCH a nice way to tie everything else up and hopefully throw it away#but like i canāt even get past the initial āoh babes. you have SUCH complex ptsdā#idk idk idk idk idk idk thereās just something so fun and wonderful about having your entire worldview upended#having lots of fun now doubling down on doubting my own perceptions and views of the world n people around me#me: listing out everything wrong with me#my therapist: yes youāve literally just handed me a list of symptoms for this. congrats#poor guy really had to recenter me like three separate times āwhy is accepting this so hard for you?ā#AND iāve apparently been dissociating and not even the fun cool kind!!!#nooooooo i canāt just float n leave n go somewhere else#nooooooo instead i get the super annoying barely recognizable type that feels like iām up one and slightly to the left#SUCH bullshit#shut up sydney
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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
#my hair used to b my favourite part of me but for some reason within the last like. 8-12 months my brain just decided that actually-#-everything abt it is wrong and there's no way to fix it#a lot of it I think is related to the amt of hair I've lost bcuz of my ED n disabilities n stress + being on T#but even going back thru pictures I don't look that much different so idk why my brain is so upset by it#idk it's just upsetting and I wish I could decide what I wanna do abt it#like part of me wants to just do smth completely different and see if that helps but the rest of me cannot stomach the anxiety around-#-what if it looks bad what if it doesn't grow back what if what if what if#idk man I'm just feelin shitty today lmao#armchair speaks#vent post#tw insecurity#<-??? just in case
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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.
#dragon's stupid thoughts#i hate this#i think doom scrolling would fix me rn?#idk#jfc earlier I just said I should reduce my screen time and then I say this#ugh#i need therapy but to take the next step closer to that I have to make phone calls but... they are so so scary :(#...#i think my lunch ruined the day for me#it was leftover from sunday but putting everything in one box was the wrong thing to do I think#beautiful chicken and asparagus goes to waste...#i hate throwing food away#and even more seeing other people throw it away while I'm sitting next to them. starving#my diet is absolutely not healthy#junk food and eating whenever I feel like it/whenever I have time (not eating anything until I'm home)#anyway#i kinda also feel like crying#but i don't know why#i kinda have a feeling that the music I've been listening to lately has taken a toll on me too#it's about ''we're screwed. employers treat you like a slave. you've got no other choice than to suffer thanks to the higher ups'' etc.#this is already getting too long#gonna go brainstorm for my pmd story maybe#maybe draw some scenes that are far into the future#the one i did today was nice#really cool battle
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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)
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 Gothamās patented night-life that had taught you to completely tune out the sound of police sirens. Tonight, however, they werenāt 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 dayās 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, youāre 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. Youāre 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 canāt tonight anymore Iām sorry I donāt 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. Youāre used to the symptoms of your period hitting so hard. As much as you and Jason care about each other, youāre not sure youāre ready for him to see you like this. Youāve managed to plan your relationship around your hormone cycle so far, but today it came early.
Your phoneās buzzing is muffled by the rug, and you almost donāt hear it. Jasonās photo is displayed on the screen.
Your hanging hand clicks āanswerā and puts it on speaker so you can take the call without moving from how you're curled up.
āIs everything okay? Whatās wrong?ā
āNothing, Iām fine, I just donāt feel up for going out tonight. Iād rather stay home.ā
āDid something happen?ā
āNo, I just got my period so Iām not really in the mood.ā
āOkay, we can stay in tonight. What do you feel like eating? I can pick something up.ā
āNo, Jasonā¦I want to stay home alone tonight.ā
Thereās a beat of silence on the other end of the line.
āOkayā¦did I do something?ā His voice comes out a little smaller.
āNo, youāre fine, I promise. I just donāt feel like seeing anyone right now.ā
āā¦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 donāt want him to see you.
āJasonā¦itās not you. I justā¦I feel like shit right now, honestly. Everything hurts, Iām miserable and sad and angry at everything, Iām breaking out all over.ā You feel yourself welling up at all these little stresses coming out. āIām craving everything but feel too sick to eat anythingā¦I feel pretty disgusting right now, and frankly, I donāt 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 thatās 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; āI could never find you disgusting,ā he says, gently. āBut if thatās what you want, then weāll reschedule.ā
āThank you. And sorry.ā
He speaks with a tone you canāt quite parse. āDonāt apologize. Just feel better.ā
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Itās 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.
āJason, 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 theyāre 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.
āIām sorryā¦I know you said not to come, butā¦ā his gaze casts downward to his hands. You follow; heās clutching a reusable grocery bag. Peeking out of the top is a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream. The ice cream cartonās 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.
āI thinkāā he cuts himself off, free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Then he drops his hand and sighs. āIām 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 youāll say something so he can gauge your reaction.
You just stare at him.
He shifts his weight back and forth. His hand twitches.
āOkay, yeah, Iāllāā
Then, you burst into tears.
Jasonās eyes widen. He reaches out to touch you, then stops himself. āOh, fuck, Iām sorry! Iām sorry, this was stupid. Please stop crying, Iām so sorryāā Heās 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.
āOkay, IāIām leaving now. Iām 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.
āDid youāhicābuy me groceries?ā
āYeahā¦ā Thereās a wince in his tone, as if heās 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. āI figuredā¦itās justā itās the stuff that youāre supposed toāā He strokes his palm over his mouth, eyes screwing shut for a moment. He huffs at himself, then continues. āI mean Iām sure you already know all of this, so maybe you already have all these things, and now Iām realizing how unnecessary all this was, and I shouldnāt have assumedāā
āJason,ā you say. Your upset has since been overshadowed by something else, though you canāt tell what it is. And your crying has stopped, but its lingering effects have you feeling congested and a little foggy. Youāre half expecting this to be a fever dream that youāre moments away from waking up from in a cold sweat.
āābecause obviously you know what helps you feel better much more than I doāā
āJason.ā
āAnd 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.
āRight, 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 theyāreā¦menstruating.ā He briefly breaks eye contact at the end of his sentence, red rouge creeping up his neck.
You canāt help it; you start to giggle. You canāt remember the last time you heard a man use the term āmenstruatingā in a non-medical context. And the fact that heās so shy about itā upset as you may be (though not at him), thereās no denying how adorable your boyfriend is. His head shoots back to you as your laughter intensifies. He blushes harder.
āItās 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.
āSorry Iām such a mess,ā you murmur into his shirt.
He breathes into your hair. āYou have nothing to apologize for. And youāre 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.
āIām sorry for not listening to you. I justā¦ā He imitates your quietness, like his admission is also too vulnerable to say loudly. āI really wanted to see you. And I hated the idea of you feeling bad about yourself, or being in pain. I didnāt 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 donāt. 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.
āYou didnāt.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. āNo oneās ever done anything like this for me before. Thatās why I was crying. Not because you showed up.ā
āThat doesnāt 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.
āI need to go back inside. Iāve been away from my heating pad for too long.ā
His shoulders sag when you step away from him. āOh, 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. Heās 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 whatās remaining onto the counter, one by one, and you take note of each item. Thereās 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. āYou 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. āGood 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. āThey 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 heās 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, āI donāt know what to do with all this. I donāt have the energy to make anything good.ā
But he just smiles and says, āThatās what Iām 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 ājust 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 hadnāt 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.
āWhere is this from? Did you buy this today?ā You ask him through a mouthful of the rich, melting chocolate.
He doesnāt look up from the carrots heās dicing. āUhā¦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. āJason, youāre not embarrassed about liking fancy chocolate, are you?ā
āNo! Not at all,ā he says, ceasing his chopping. He looks up, but not quite at you.
āThen?ā
āāThenā what?ā He asks.
āThen why are you being so shifty right now?ā You try to catch his gaze.
āIām not!ā He defends. āItās just chocolate! Do you like it? Iāll bring you more.ā Heās stealthy with the way he avoids your eyes; you almost canāt notice how hard heās trying not to make eye contact.
āJason!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.
āItāsā¦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.
āWhat was that?ā You tilt your ear towards him, exaggerating the action.
āItās Bruceās.ā He, in turn, exaggerates the enunciation, rolling his eyes at your simpering. āIā¦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. āAnd youāre ashamed to admit that you think he has good taste in something?ā
He doesnāt 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.
āYou are so adorable, you know that?ā You say. You reach up and pinch his cheeks. He swats your hands away, but thereās 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.
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
#more of my jason todd domesticity agenda#batman#red hood#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#batfamily#dc universe#dc comics#dcu#dc robin#robin#dick grayson#bruce wayne#damian wayne#tim drake#nightwing#red robin#red hood x reader#batfam#robin jason todd
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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 didnāt 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 donāt 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 Iām just so much more afraid of losing you than I am of hurting myself#but idk Iām really fucking angry myself right now#and mostly Iām angry at my own dumb self because I didnāt communicate well or clarify and yeah truly thatās on me#but thereās so much more I want to say to you and I want to yell back at you#tell you all the ways youāve 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 Iād probably lose you for real#and I donāt want to go through that kind of pain#Iāll do damn near anything to keep a friend even if theyāre not good for me and youāre clearly no exception to that#so Iāll 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#Iāll even give you space and pull my personality back to make sure youāre comfortable#and everything will be fine in the end wonāt it#personal
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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?
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.
and now, for the hardest part. frosting.
let's see how that goes.
david still watches.
#from katya#not a tag#im not a tumblr writer by any means but i hope you all enjoy#the green cake saga#david malukas#plays a role in this#somehow
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