#im okay im not falling apart im just working through it without dissolving

[jellyfishjams]

.

[ratplagues]

🔥 any dishonored thing of ur choosing -deathoftheoutsider

wah okay!! i will talk a bit about the outsider and void then..i dont really wanna frame it as a Hot Take bc i have no interest in starting shit or whatever like ill interact with whatever i want to in this fandom and ignore the rest and everyone else is free to do the same but.

I do not think The Outsider is a “character” in the conventional sense, much less that it does his character or the allegory he wields any justice to be shipped with anyone in the series (at least without seriously considering the implications and framing it in a way that completes the allegory. more on this later)

the outsider and his void are an allegory for Otherness; i’m namely gonna frame it as queerness and neurodiversity, but really anything could fit as long as it’s about you feeling seen as a marginalized and othered person. he is written to represent this allegory, not to be a person with a satisfying narrative arc or dimensions. this is why some people feel that he lacks depth-- he’s not supposed to have depth compared to others in the series, he’s mostly a vehicle for what he represents, and is supposed to be easy to identify with or recognize.

he was born to a life of hardship, suffered at the hands of the rich and powerful, was ignored, cast out, etc. etc. a familiar story. poor, queer, nd, really whatever you wanna frame it as. he was a nobody outcast. in comes the envisioned, they pick him to serve as their martyr and idol without his permission. he then had his name cut away and forgotten, and was thrust onto a pedestal to spend the rest of eternity being worshipped by other outcasts who had suffered at the same hands he had. he has something greatly in common with those who worship him, including the very people who stripped his mortality from him in the first place, but because of this shared hardship (and nothing else), his own autonomous personhood was disregarded completely in favor of The Community needing someone Just Like Them to idolize. if this sounds familiar, that’s because it should!!

his humanity was taken from him, and in his place, an idol was created. his human body is frozen in stone in the center of the void-- retired. out of commission. no longer needed. he was immortalized, transcended. this is traditionally desired, although dishonored is trying to convince you that it is not actually desirable. in the age of internet content creation, you can be immortalized without even being present, without knowing about it. you become what you can do for other people, and what you cannot. people fall in love with an idea of you, the idea of you being like them, and other people come to hate you deeply without even knowing you. people came to hate the outsider more deeply than he ever had been when he was human-- he wasn’t seen when he was human. a pedestal only helps you to be seen. the outsider had the choice made for him to achieve immortality in exchange for the simple joys of being un-known.

he spends all of doto trying to convey this idea to billie through the hollows:

"There is freedom in being hated. There is license in being cast out. Some learn this lesson a little too well."  "These people lay their thoughts, their petty wants, their murderous desires in front of me to witness. I cannot turn away." "We carry what was done to us through the rest of our endless days. No one asked if we wanted it." (i like this one. he speaks for the community-- this is a shared experience, one everyone can recognize. however, as a Queer Figure, he never asked for this. he never asked to be immortalized. i like the double meaning here)

not to mention, the entire extent of the outsider’s Sole ability and influence on the real world is to “choose” people and give them untold power over others. this is a fun ironic twist on what marginalized groups endure from powerful people, (dishonored is largely about power imbalances and socioeconomic hierarchies) but it’s also fun to think about in the context of the role model/fan framing-- so many worshippers give their lives to be “chosen” by him. it’s easily framed as an exaggeration of otherwise very real power imbalances and often the flagrant breaching of boundaries existing between creators and fans.

and on the subject of the VOID...ohht he void.....

the void should be a haven for queer folks. for nd folks. it’s wanted by so many to be a safe space, it should be, it’s the Other World! it’s renounced by the abbey, crusaded against, even. but it isn’t. it’s just this limitless, eons-old horizon that hungers and starves for something to fill it. if the outsider is the lament of queer idolatry, the void is the lament of queer Hunger. it is roaming, and restless. it does not belong to the outsider; the outsider cannot survive without it. it’s the desire to belong, not a place of belonging.

the void craves this idol, this outsider-- i, for one, have often experienced hunger for a truly moral and just role model, someone to make the world Right, and i know this is another shared feeling. those who worship the outsider, who drive themselves mad trying to see him or be chosen by him, are suffering from this idol hunger. you see this in a lot of queer and nd kids and young adults. i grew up just having my life and interests like, punctuated by different fixations on different people that i didn’t know at all, only fell in love with the idea of. it happens a lot.

there’s a couple more doto quotes that really highlight this for me:

"They carve my mark into the old bones bleached by the sun. They carve my mark into their skin. They learn true hunger in the Void." "All these charms, these runes and fetid offerings on shrines made for me, will be nothing more than objects worn of meaning. Bones and dead things, thrown into the dirt."

“They learn true hunger in the Void.” is something that i wanna touch on real quick. people can spend their lives obsessing over the idea of what they think the void will cure for them, will fix in their lives, only to find out that it’s just a hollow manifestation of the emptiness they’ve felt all their lives. it’s not the needs met, but the need itself. you have to make the home, it doesn’t already exist and you can’t fucking run to it. it is heartbreaking, frustrating, one of the bleakest messages i’ve ever encountered in a game, but i’ve never felt more seen. by submitting to these ideas, the idea of a perfect unhuman human and the idea of a perfect otherworldly home, you are surrendering your humanity. you’re not only being transformed by the powers gained (if they are gained), you’re essentially dissolving with hunger after never having these needs met. you see so many people in these games whittling themselves down to nothing but base need. empty apartments occupied only by shrines, sometimes containing their corpses. journals of people dedicating their lives to the worship of the outsider, always ending darkly.  "I will find this empty place. Somehow the key to open the Void will fall into my hands. In time, I will learn the secret and he will call to me as he called to her."

not to mention The New Envisioned-- prolonged exposure to the void will always, without fail, turn a human into silver void stone. these creatures can no longer interact with or acknowledge the mortal world. they have surrendered themselves to hunger, and cannot be saved. this is celebrated by the cult, honored by them, even. i honestly like....i pity them, and i hate them, and i recognize that i’ve been those people, lmao. when i was at my worst as a teenager, i wasnt so much a person as i was just a shell full of hunger and heartbreak. my personality was defined by who i was a fan of. i think i definitely was Less Human then. the cult of the outsider is a universal experience!!

dishonored, at its core, is a celebration of humanity. it asks you to celebrate human emotion and weakness despite greed and bigotry. the powers are not to be wanted, they are to be ignored, refused. it is human to hunger, but it is Queer and Divergent to make hunger your life’s meaning, to need to learn the secret, find the key, be chosen and loved and cherished, to be made whole by some perfect thing. to find your humanity in something un-human. dishonored sees all that, mourns it with you, and then asks you to find humanity in each other !! love the spine of your lover, the blood draining down the docks, the pause to stretch languidly in the sun of a work day.

and finally...on the topic of outsider shipping....i dont think that, in his god form, it does him much justice to be shipped with anyone. he’s not much of a person, just a projection of his former self and a vehicle for his allegory as discussed-- im sure he could be shipped like this, but it just isn’t satisfying to me in any way. however, let’s talk a bit about his lethal and nonlethal ending. DOTO asks you to make a choice. is it better to give him an abrupt and merciful ending, after deciding that the fury he’s endured at the hands of others’ famine is too much trauma for any mortal to live with? or will you decide that it’s only fair to give him a chance to live the life he never got to, to return his humanity that was taken without his consent? if you choose to free him from the void, i think you can very very easily make the argument that he can be shipped with corvo, or anyone else that can easily be shipped w/ ppl. he’s finally free to live his life as a queer man, can explore the simple and complex joys of being human with other people, navigate the hills and valleys he never got to before. corvo’s just a nice pick bc 1) experienced human/inexperienced human is good, 2) they know each other, but they don’t. this is a good setup. 3) corvo is an older queer man and uhh you cant convince me otherwise lol! and older queer/younger queer is a self indulgence for me. also corvo is just nice. i think he would enjoy helping the outsider navigate his new humanity.

just some thoughts i have running through my head all hours of the day :) this is really long cuz its a combination of a lot of infodumps from discord lmfao

[ghost-ghost-baby]

Talk to me // Dabi x Tomura x Reader soulmate au // (poly)

a/n: look,,,, im not gonna lie i had to split this bc i wasn’t sure if i wanted the next part to b angst heavy or smut heavy. or both. so enjoy! warnings: angstish,,, self harm mention,,, yandere themes,,,, i think thats it???  requests: open 

The world hated you, that was it. Was it because of how you used your quirk? Quite possibly, you’d turned to a villains life without batting an eye, hadn’t you? Still, you didn’t think that meant you deserved this. You’d joined the league a month ago, Toga had bugged you until you gave in, it’s not like you had anything better to do. It’d been good, for about a day, and then like your life always seemed to do, it went to shit. Dabi and Shigaraki had come back, all over each other which was frankly what you’d expected from what Toga told you. You couldn’t really blame them, they were soulmates, you were kinda happy for them at first, until they’d spoken to you. 

“You must be Toga’s friend.” 

“You’re not what I was expecting.” 

Words had burned through your soul, you’d been waiting to hear those words since you were sixteen, and now this- this was happening? You hadn’t spoken, not wanting them to know, only nodding before you’d turned back to Toga. 

Luckily you could avoid them with relative ease, you didn’t live at the base, you had a nice apartment all to yourself that you loved. You’d worked hard for it, it was your home. And right now you missed it more than you thought possible. You could be curled up in bed with a drink… maybe some weed, but no, instead you were on some bullshit mission with Dabi. Well, technically the mission was finished, you were walking back now. He hadn’t pressed you to talk, him and Shigaraki just… thought you didn’t at this point.

“So, what’s with you and avoiding me and Tomura.” Dabi’s words had you freezing in place, biting your tongue until you tasted blood.

“I mean, it’s kinda obvious, you’re friends with everyone except us, and I want to know what you’re hiding.” You grit your teeth, you were almost back at the base, Toga was waiting for you and you could-

“Hey, stop being such a bitch!” Dabi hissed, hand clamping around your arm and making you yelp. Your eyes locked on his, mouth still shut tight and worry pounding through your veins. His grip tightened and you winced, sharp pain followed b a warmth that could only mean-

“What the fuck?” Dabi didn’t pull his hand back, staring at the blood that soaked through your shirt, coating his fingers and revealing something you’d managed to keep hidden for years. Fucking dumbass, he should have left you alone. 

“Y/n, is-”

“Fuck off, Dabi. I know what I’m doing.” You hissed, wrenching your arm away and bolting to the nearest club, he’d never go there. 

The club was higher end than you’d usually go, but heroes came here and you were betting on that to hide you. 

“There you are Y/n! Ths place was so hard to find!” Toga slid into the booth next to you, happily grabbing the drink you’d gotten for her. 

“Yeah, but no one we know comes here.” You were already on your second drink, although your friend seemed determined to catch up. 

“Good point Y/n! You were always so smart!”

“Shhhh, Toga we don’t wanna wake anyone up!” You whispered, hand covering your mouth to muffle your laughter. It was almost four am, everyone else was sleeping and you and Toga had decided to go back to the base after realizing there was no way you’d be able to make it your apartment. You made it to her room without incident, thank god, closing the door before the two of you dissolved into giggles. 

“God, we haven’t done this in ages!” Toga sat on the bed, you following without a moment of hesitation. 

“It’s been too long.” You agreed, lazy grin overtaking your face as you leant forward. Toga’s face mirrored yours, she’d always been good at picking up your moods, and her hands wound around your neck as you kissed her. You pushed her down on the bed, god her lips were so soft, hands trailing over her to try and get her clothes off. Toga was just as desperate, her fangs dragging along your lips and you weren’t even surprised when you felt a knife rip through your clothes. 

“You owe me another pair of jeans Toga.” Your tone was light, briefly pulling away before you focused on her neck.

“I always pay you back Y/n, you know that.” Her hands pulled off the shreds of your clothes, fabric littering the bed around you. You nodded,, lidded eyes fixed on Toga as you settled between her legs, pushing her skirt up and hooking your fingers on the band of her underwear. 

“What the fuck are you two doing?” Shigaraki hissed, and you couldn’t help but turn, eyes looking him and Dabi over. 

“You’re welcome to join.” You smirked, watching him tremble at the words. 

“Dabi, grab them.” He turned and left, leaving you with Toga and Dabi.

“You guys wanna have a threesome?” You joked, too drunk to grasp the situation as Dabi scoffed, tugging you up by your wrist. 

“Okay so that’s a no… just lemme grab a shir-”

“God you’re stupid.” Dabi shook his head, covering you in his jacket before scooping you up.

“Okay, easy there big boy, have you see-seen my quirk? I’m great.” You slurred, head too heavy to do anything except fall to Dabi’s shoulder.

“Whatever you say.”

“What the fuck happened last night?” You groaned as sunlight hit your face, hand pushing your hair out of your face. You weren’t in your apartment, and you were wearing someone else’s shirt. 

“God not again, I hope my pants are around…” You pushed the covers off, thankful the shirt was big enough to fall past mid thigh. 

“What’re you doing?”

“Looking for my- Dabi?” You jumped back, arms crossing over your chest. “Oh this is bad, I knew I was shitty but I’ve never gone for taken people… I really need to lay off the booze.” You mumbled, hand coming up to rub at the back of your neck. 

“We didn’t sleep together. However, you did come home plastered at four am, and Tomura and I had to stop you fucking Toga and bring you back here. You passed out.” Dabi’s voice was cold and you frowned. Feelings warred for dominance, the strongest being the fact they had no business who you slept with, you weren’t theirs. 

“Okay, good to know. I’m gonna go uh, find some clothes and ask Kurogiri to warp me back home.” 

“I don’t think so. Tomura was crushed last night, and he doesn’t want you leaving the base.”

“Excuse me? Fuck that Dabi, I’m fucking going.” 

“No, you’re not. We’re gonna wait for him to get back, and when that happens we’re all gonna sit down and have a nice little chat.” 

You’d never been in a situation this tense, Dabi was standing by the door and you were left on the bed, trying to cover as much as you could with one shirt. You could have sworn there was an anxiety rash on the back of your neck, and your fingers were itching to find something sharp. Your nails had been getting long, maybe you could-

“Don’t even think about using your quirk.” You startled, eyes jumping up to meet red ones. You’d never seen Shigaraki this mad before. It was… kinda hot you had to admit. 

“Look, Shigaraki, Dabi, I really don’t see the big-”

“How long have you been hiding this from us?” Shigaraki’s voice was cold, hands twitching by his side.

“Uh well… since you guys spoke to me, I guess. You already had a good thing going and I didn’t wanna… screw it up.” 

“That wasn’t your choice to make.”

“Yeah, well, I made it anyway.” You were already getting defensive, walls and masks flying back up before you could do anything.

“We’ve been waiting for you for years, brat. How the fuck could you not say anything, you’re our-”

“I’m not yours, actually, and now if you don’t mind, I’m going to find Toga. She owes me some pants.” You were pushed down as soon as you stood up, when had Shigaraki gotten that close? 

“What the fu-” You went silent as Shigaraki clipped a bracelet around your wrist, hands surprisingly gentle and you wanted to crawl out of your skin when his fingers brushed up against your scars.

“Don’t touch me.” You hissed, arm pulled back as though it had burned. In a way it had, it was too much. 

“Don’t talk to him like that.” Dabi finally spoke, you’d forgotten about him, actually. Wow, you really were a shitty soulmate.

“We can touch you as much as we like, you’re our soulmate.”

“Shigaraki, look-”

“Call me Tomura.” 

“Shiga-”

“Do you really wanna finish that sentence?” Hands grabbed onto your legs and you shut your eyes, waiting for his quirk to kill you, only to be able to open your eyes a second later, still alive.

“Huh?”

“The bracelet makes you immune to my quirk, Dabi has one too.” 

“Keep in mind, your bracelet also cancels your quirk, until we can trust you.” 

“Okay, I’m out.” You shook your head, trying to push Tomura off of you. 

“You haven’t even given us a chance. We’ve been dreaming of finding you since our words appeared and you won’t even give us a chance?” You were caught off guard at that, you’d never seen those red eyes look sad. 

“I uh, it’s not you guys, it’s me! I’m just… really a lot to handle, and uh… you guys seemed so happy I just didn’t wanna mess anything up?” You trailed off as the pair exchanged a look. That couldn’t be good, honestly you couldn’t see it ending up well for you. 

“Well if that’s all,”

“We’ll just have to show you how important you are to us.”

Great, they finished each other sentences. You were certainly in for a treat. 

“It’s no big deal, you guys really don’t-”

“You obviously need our help, need us. Did you know staying away from your soulmate for long periods of time declines your mental state?” Dabi scoffed despite walking over to the bed, letting his hand rest on Tomura’s shoulder. 

Okay, you didn’t know that, and it must’ve shown on your face. Tomura reached out, hand cupping your face, and you didn’t know if you liked the way it burned. 

“We’re gonna have so much fun.”

[cruisercrusher]

Dicktiger week day one— birthday 🎂 🎂🎂

Dick was cold when he woke up.

Which was not a new thing. He’d been finding himself getting cold quite frequently in the last few days. March wasn’t exactly known for being the warmest of months, and he and Tiger had been steadily making their way northwards. And, being on the run was kind of just like that.

But he wasn’t cold because of the icy wind outside. Although there was a draft— these cheap motel rooms were far from five star.

The bed itself was cold.

Also not a new thing. Tiger rose early to pray at dawn, every day without fail, and always stayed up after that. Dick always tried to sleep in as much as he could. Rest so thoroughly evaded him at night, after all.

The room was cold. Again, not because of the draft. Dick lifted his head and looked around the small space, and realized he was completely alone.

He jolted, a flash of worry like lightning making him bolt upright. He almost threw himself out of bed and into his gear when halfway through the action he spotted the handwritten note on the bedside table.

Wait here.

Dick frowned. So Tiger had just left with only those instructions, not telling Dick that he was going, when he would be back or what he was doing? They were supposed to be a team. You were supposed to communicate with your teammates.

Look, he knew that Tiger didn’t like working with him. Fine, Dick didn’t need him to like working with him. But they still needed to work together.

He sighed and pushed himself out of bed anyway, knowing he probably wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep after that shot of adrenaline.

First thing Dick did was open up their med kit and dig around, looking for a painkiller. He’d woken up with another headache. It seemed like he was constantly having headaches lately, of various degrees of pain, but he kept smiling through it.

Being on the run was not fun. It never is fun. He could act like he was having fun and make jokes and poke the bear that was Tiger’s temper until he lost a finger all through it, but really, it was not fun. Between the fights and the car chases, and the bouts of banter, in the quiet moments when all they could do is keep running or try and get as much rest as they could before they start running again… everything caught up to him.

Too much had happened in the last… year? Two years? He didn’t know, his grasp on time was slipping— too much had happened that he hadn’t processed and he was paying for it now.

And moments alone were the worst of all.

Suddenly having to go off all his meds all at once because there wasn’t time to pack anything or bring anything with them other than the clothes on their backs did not help either.

Seriously did not help. In fact, Dick felt like shit.

He found a little bottle of pain meds. He shook it. It was mostly empty. He sighed again and took one. Dry. Just to spite himself.

Dick wished Tiger had told him he was going somewhere— he would have asked him to grab some Advil if he got the chance. He’d even have thrown in some puppy dog eyes and a ‘pretty please’.

Luckily, he didn’t actually have to wait that long before the door to their room unlocked from the outside and creaked open.

Tiger walked in, stone faced, but in a way that looked like he was trying hard to keep his expression blank. Even still, there was a slight furrow to his brow, that seemed to stick through his every waking moment. He was holding a box.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” the other spy said upon seeing Dick sitting at the flimsy table. He walked over and set the box down on the table in front of him, then took a step back and folded his arms. “Here.”

Dick looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Is this some sort of prank box? A spring-loaded clown doll isn’t going to jump out at me if I open it, right?”

Tiger scoffed. “Of course not. Just open it.”

So Dick opened it.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, exactly, but it wasn’t a birthday cake.

It was a pretty typical store bought cake, with white icing and red, blue and yellow little fondant balloons decorating the top, around the fancy cursive letters that read ‘joyeux anniversaire’.

He blinked first down at the cake, then up at Tiger, a look of obvious confusion on his face. “Huh?” He said, quite intelligently if you asked him.

“It is a birthday cake.” Tiger grunted. There was a hint of red in his cheeks. He probably wasn’t expecting to have to explain himself.

“Yeah, I can see that.” Dick deadpanned. “But what for?”

Tiger frowned. “It is your birthday.”

Dick blinked again. “It is? Shit, I didn’t even notice the date. Wait, how do you know my birthday?”

“It was in your file. I read it when we first were assigned partners.”

“And you remembered?” Dick smiled, and Tiger blushed harder and looked away. “And you— you got me a cake?”

“It’s customary.” Tiger grumbled. “If you don’t like it—“

“No, no! I do like it! I love it!” Dick looked back down at the cake, then at Tiger again. “I— I mean— you—“

His smile started to crack and crumble as he stammered. “You… care…?”

Tiger frowned as Dick’s whole expression started to dissolve and his eyes went distinctly glassy. Dick quickly started to wipe at the tears that pooled there, though yet to fall. “Sorry— Sorry.” He muttered. “I just— I should say thank you. This is… really nice.”

But for some reason speaking those last few words just made things worse for himself, and Dick turned away with a single, gasping sob, before Tiger could see him fall apart. Why now, he internally lamented, why do I have to have a break down now?

“Uh—“ He heard from behind him, and Dick could easily imagine the confused expression that must be on Tiger’s face. The man wasn’t exactly the emotionally supportive type, that was Dick’s job. He felt bad for making Tiger witness this mess— especially after the other spy went out of his way to do something so nice for him. Tiger didn’t deserve this.

The chair across from him scraped across the floor as Tiger pulled it out from the table, and creaked loudly when he sat down. “Richard,” he said, and Dick turned further away, hiccuping a little. “Are you… okay?”

No. Dick wanted to say. I’m not okay.

(Well if you wanted honesty that’s all you had to sayy I never want to let you down or have you go it’s BETTER OFF THIS WAY for all the dirty looks the photographs your boyfriend took remember when you Broke Your Foot from Jumping Out the Second floor I’m NOOOTTT OOOOKAYYY IM NOT—)

Yeah, okay.

Yeah, I’m fine, Dick also wanted to say. He didn’t know why, but he was always hesitant to tell people when he wasn’t doing alright. He never liked to burden people with his load of shit, especially not when they needed his help more.

But Tiger wouldn’t buy it for a second, and while he may not have been the emotionally supportive type Tiger also didn’t take any bullshit and wouldn’t appreciate Dick just lying to his face like that.

Though Dick was sure that absolutely no one would be convinced if they were in Tiger’s place, watching him cry his eyes out because of a birthday cake, and he tried to tell them nothing was wrong, literally through tears.

“No,” Dick said. “I’m not okay.”

(Well if you wanted honesty that’s all you had to sayy I never want to let you down or have you go it’s BETTER OFF THIS WAY for all the dirty looks the photographs your boyfriend took remember when you Broke Your Foot from Jumping Out the Second floor I’m NOOOTTT OOOOKAYYY IM NOT—)

Okay okay, enough of that.

“I can see that.” Tiger retorted, even though he was the one who asked in the first place. Dick decided to cut the guy some slack. He sniffed, wiped the tracks of tears off his cheeks as his (fucking annoying) crying slowed to a stop. He looked at Tiger over his shoulder.

“I… sorry, it’s just been… a rough year. A rough couple of years, actually.”

He didn’t elaborate any further. He probably didn’t need to. Tiger didn’t prompt him to elaborate. He probably didn’t need to, either. Dick suspected Tiger knew already about (most of) the shit that had made these last few years so rough. Dick didn’t know how Tiger knew, but Tiger had this way of knowing pretty much everything.

Maybe he was secretly a meta. Probably not, but maybe.

Dick turned more fully in his chair to sit in it the right way, except he pulled a foot up onto the seat to tuck his knee into his chest. He looked at the cake again. It looked, in all honesty, pretty good.

He just… wouldn’t think about the calories. He could do that much, pretty simple— eat some cake and not stress about the calories.

And if the sugar made him break out, then whatever. He didn’t care if Tiger saw him in an aesthetically imperfect state. And he knew that Tiger didn’t care about it— they’d been on the run for a hot minute and had only just a few days ago managed to get a hold of some toothbrushes. Tiger’s beard was scragglier than it usually was. Neither of their hygiene or grooming habits were exactly peak at the moment.

Besides, Dick thought with a smirk— despite the lingering wateryness of his eyes—, Tiger was into him regardless of poor hygiene and unwashed clothes, and regardless of how much Tiger insisted he hated him. Dick had caught him practically gazing longingly at his collarbones the other day— his collarbones! Dude was on a whole other level of both repression and desire if he was looking at Dick’s collarbones as opposed to his more popular assets.

But Dick appreciated that. He’d made a comment once on how frustrating it was that everyone was more focused on his ass than anything else about him, and Tiger hadn’t even glanced at his backside since. So he was a man with taste who also respected boundaries.

Also, he got me a birthday cake. He went out of his way to get me a birthday cake. That’s not really something you do for someone you hate. Dick thought, and smiled back up at Tiger, wiping away the last traces of his tears. Tiger eyed him suspiciously.

“What?”

Dick smiled wider. “You like me.”

Tiger coughed suddenly, looking away. He glared down at the floor. “I do not! I told you before, I can’t stand you, and— and I cannot wait until I no longer have to spend even a second in your infuriating presence.”

“Yeah, yeah, blah blah you’re going to kill me someday yada yada. Why’d you get me a cake, then?” Dick teased him.

“It— well—“ Tiger stammered, something that Dick had never ever seen before. “I… wanted… I thought you would like it.” He admitted. Dick’s smile softened.

“I do like it.” He said, “Thank you.”

Then he sniffed, for some reason the tightness in his throat came back and his eyes once more looked suspiciously dewy. Tiger got a slightly constipated look.

“Don’t start crying again. Please.”

Dick laughed. “I won’t, I won’t.” He said, hoping he wouldn’t. “It’s just… been a while since anyone did something so nice for me without an ulterior motive.”

He shot Tiger a look, but it was still teasing. “You haven’t got an ulterior motive, right?” Tiger sighed.

“I wish I did. Now are you going to eat that thing or not?”

“Oh, right.”

Tiger handed him a travel fork from one of their packs, then reached back down into the pack and started rummaging around. Dick wasted no time in plunging the bamboo fork right into the cake, breaking through the icing and pulling away a generous bite of what was revealed to be chocolate cake. Tiger looked back up as Dick brought his fork up to his mouth, and stared at him incredulously, with no small amount of disgust. Dick paused.

“What?”

“You’re just going to… eat the… and not even…” Tiger searched for words. Dick shrugged with a pout.

“It’s my birthday cake, I’ll eat it however I want to.” He pushed the cake box more towards the center of the small, round table. “Want some?”

The other spy looked between Dick, the cake with the one bite taken out of it, the fork in his hand, and back at Dick.

“You can just eat from the other side. I promise you won’t catch any cooties.” Dick offered, nudging the cake forward a little more. Tiger huffed and didn’t say anything, but still took out the other fork and stabbed it almost violently into the side of the cake closest to him. Dick finally ate his bite of cake, grinning around the fork. (Wow, this is good cake.) (Just don’t think about the calories.)

‘Cooties… ridiculous.’ He heard Tiger mutter under his breath. He ate another bite of the cake, his qualms about Dick’s lack of table manners seemingly behind him. “I shouldn’t have done this. If I had known you had forgotten it was your birthday I would have just let the day pass quietly without any fuss.”

“No, you wouldn’t have.” Dick said it like he was teasing, but he and Tiger both now knew it was true. “Hey, you know what would make a great birthday gift?”

Tiger raised an eyebrow at him. “What, the cake wasn’t enough for you?”

“Nope,” Dick smirked. “The only thing that can satisfy me…” he paused for dramatic effect, “is a hug.”

Tiger groaned. “Absolutely not.”

Dick didn’t mean to let his face fall. He meant to brush it off with a laugh, but then his smile slipped and he couldn’t catch it before it was simply gone. Tiger noticed. Dick cringed.

It would be nice if some cake and a little bit of banter were enough to fully lift his spirits, but unfortunately it just wasn’t cutting it.

He was still cold.

Tiger sighed and stood up. Dick looked away, chewing at his lip.

(Yeah, so maybe Tiger did care, but that didn’t necessarily mean he would never exploit Dick’s moments of weakness. He was still a spy, Dick had to remind himself. He was still a spy and everything Bruce ever instilled in him was telling him not to trust him.)

(But he trusted Tiger anyway. So maybe he was an idiot, he didn’t care. He just needed to be not so all encompassingly alone in this world right now.)

Tiger rounded the table so that he was standing next to Dick’s chair, positively towering over him. “Stand up.”

“What?” Dick blinked.

“Stand up.”

Dick stood up. Tiger had been standing so close to his chair that when he did he was nearly chest to chest with the taller man, and Dick felt his heart speed up involuntarily at the proximity.

Almost as soon as Dick was on his feet, Tiger was uncrossing his arms and wrapping them around Dick instead— one arm around his back pulling him close and one hand cupping the back of his neck, and if Dick didn’t know better he’d describe it as tender. Gentle.

Tiger didn’t do tender or gentle.

So how could you explain this, then?

Dick couldn’t see Tiger’s face like this, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of sour expression he might have right now. Dick didn’t care. Tiger was— Tiger was warm, he was so warm, the heat seeping through Dick’s clothes and skin and all the way down to his bones.

He stifled a gasp and snapped his arms shut around Tiger’s back, clinging way tighter than was called for, but Tiger didn’t say anything.

Everything was going to be okay. Things sucked right now, but Dick wasn’t alone. Tiger was there, and he cared, and that was all Dick needed.

When Dick fell asleep that night, in a different but just as shitty motel room, pressed against Tiger’s side, he was warm.

[chasholidays]

Hey love your fics im a first time prompt sender, if you can could you carry on Where Everybody Knows Your Name, except with Monty and Miller, I want to see if Monty gets his customer crush too, looking forward to the holiday fics i cant wait thanks x

Original fic here!

“It was Nate, right?”

Monty considers, but he can’t help the smartass retort. It’s his lot in life. “No, Monty. We work together?”

Clarke rolls her eyes, but she’s clearly amused. Possibly in spite of herself, but he’ll take what he can get. “Your customer crush. Nate with the rainbow flag on his bag?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s him. Why?”

“I know him.”

He frowns. “Okay, that’s just unfair. You can’t hog all the hot queer boys. We’re in a recession.”

“Which is why I’m talking to you. He and Bellamy are friends. They hang out. If you came to hang out too, you could actually spend time with him.”

“You have such a weird thing about talking to people you’re romantically interested in. Who does that?”

“People who want to get laid.” She leans back against the counter, watching him shrewdly. He likes Clarke, but she can be kind of intense. “You don’t have to do anything about it. But I figured I should let you know. Hanging out with Miller is a possibility.”

“Miller?”

“Bellamy calls him Miller. That’s why I didn’t make the connection earlier. But we all hung out last night, so—“

“So you slept with a customer and want to enable everyone else to do the same.”

“We’re dating,” she points out. Monty still thinks she might be a witch, honestly. It would explain some things. “All I’m enabling you to do is spend some time with him socially. He’s hosting game night at his place on Saturday night. Bellamy said I could bring friends.”

The entire premise of Monty’s crush is that Nate is attractive and seems to be queer. He’s quiet and polite when he comes in, and usually puts a dollar in the tip jar after he pays. There are no particularly deep feelings involved. He’s eye candy.

But, well.

“Game night?”

“Apparently he’s really into indie board games.”

“Oh my god.”

She smirks, and he’ll give her this one. She deserves to be smug. “So, you’re in, right?” she asks.

“Send me the details, yeah. I think I can make it.”

*

Monty has a fairly effective strategy for dealing with random crushes: he doesn’t do anything about them and eventually they go away. He likes having a person to idly fantasize about, but actually making a move always seems kind of terrifying. In college, his first and only girlfriend had asked him out, and they’d had a year-long relationship that ended with graduation.

And since then, nothing. Just scattered crushes, the kind with no pressure at all. People who aren’t really real, customers and attractive strangers on the bus. When Clarke was hired, he thought about getting a crush on her, but she was too intimidating, and not really his type.

Plus, after less than a month, she was dating Bellamy, which sort of proved his point. Anyone who went from crush to flirting to relationship with the efficiency she did was not someone he could ever date.

But a quiet guy who’s friends with his coworker and her boyfriend, who has board game nights? That guy’s right up his alley. And it’s a more than a little terrifying.

Clarke agrees to walk over to Nate’s with him, so he won’t be showing up alone. Bellamy isn’t even there, so they don’t have to pretend he’s not nervous about interacting with his semi-crush.

“It’s not a big deal,” Clarke says, which isn’t actually that helpful. He knows it’s not a big deal. She doesn’t need to remind him he’s being irrational.

His expression must give him away, because her face dissolves into a sheepish smile. “Sorry. So it’s going to be us, Bellamy, Miller, their friend Monroe, Raven, and her boyfriend. Apparently they try to do this like once a month.”

“Cool.” He pauses. “Bellamy didn’t think it was weird? That you were bringing me.”

“Nope. That’s part of why I asked Raven,” she adds. “I just said I was bringing my two favorite coworkers.”

“Aww,” he says, grinning. “Thanks.”

“Not a lie.”

“We like you too.” He exhales. “I shouldn’t be nervous, right? This is board games. If I’ve got a thing, this is it.”

“Definitely. Also you like Bellamy and Raven, and Miller is pretty laid back. You have good taste in crushes.”

“Thanks. Did we know Raven had a boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, cool, just checking. Should I call Nate Miller? Does everyone call him Miller?”

“I don’t think he’ll mind Nate? He and Bellamy met in high school and there were a couple Nates, so he went by his last name. Either is probably fine.”

“It’s probably good,” he says. “Nate is an idea, Miller is a person. I can get to know the person.”

“That’s the spirit.”

They run into Raven a few blocks out, falling into step with her and her boyfriend, a tall guy with long hair who’s about as intimidating as Raven is, honestly. They’re one of those couples Monty is sure could kick his ass without even noticing they were doing it.

“Hey,” says Raven. “Finally putting your money where your mouth is, Monty?”

“I’ve never understood that saying,” he muses. “Do you have any idea how dirty money is? The last place I want it is where my mouth is.”

Raven smirks. “Don’t be nervous. Me and Clarke are going to talk you up.”

“That actually makes me feel worse, thanks. Is this your boyfriend? Do we get introduced or is he just going to lurk?”

“Yeah, this is Roan. Roan, Monty and Clarke. Clarke’s boyfriend invited us. I slept with him after it turned out Clarke and I were dating the same guy.”

Roan takes this in stride. “I will probably need a diagram. But it’s nice to meet you both. Raven has been educating me on the evolution of board gaming beyond Scrabble and Monopoly, so I’m looking forward to an educational afternoon.”

“Oh wow,” says Monty. “Yeah, you’ve got a lot to look forward to. Did Bellamy tell you what we were playing? If Miller’s understanding of modern board games begins and ends with Settlers of Catan, I don’t think I can be into him anymore.”

“What if board game night is actually just Sorry for three hours?” Clarke asks. “What then?”

“As long as it’s not Monopoly. Then none of us would come out with relationships.”

They talk favorite games until they get there, which lulls Monty into a false sense of security. He can do this. He’s a normal person who has normal conversations.

And then Nate opens the door to the apartment building, and it all kind of falls apart. He usually comes in on his way to work, dressed in slacks and collared shirts, but on his own time he apparently favors tight t-shirts and worn jeans. The t-shirt has the triforce on it, too, just to rub it in. It’s like he stepped right out of one of Monty’s pathetic dork fantasies.

“Hey, coffee shop crew. I’m an asshole who doesn’t actually know any of your names except Clarke. I assume you’re Raven and you’re Monty,” he adds, guessing correctly. “And you must be Raven’s boyfriend, name to be determined.”

“Roan,” he says. “A pleasure.”

“Cool. We haven’t ordered pizza yet, so you guys can get in on arguing about toppings. Come on up.”

Bellamy and Monroe are already upstairs, looking at Nate’s–Miller’s–impressive collection of board games. To Monty’s commingled relief and horror, he’s got great taste in games, some titles he loves, others he’s been hoping to try out, and even some that weren’t on his radar at all but look cool.

“I have a problem,” says Miller, when he catches Monty examining a deluxe edition of Underlings of Underwing. “A kickstarter problem.”

“This is honestly amazing,” he says. “Like–wow. You have the game collection I dream of having.”

“Yeah? What are some of your favorites?”

There’s this zone Monty gets into where he’s nervous, where he can interact normally, have full, coherent conversations, but it feels as if he’s watching himself do it, as if he’s in a video game running through a pre-written script until he hits a decision. He and Miller have a perfectly cordial discussion of games, and Monty’s sure he comes across well.

On the inside, though, he’s basically dying.

It gets better once they settle in for actual gaming. The games are engaging and require him to put thought into them, and even though he always ends up playing the same game as Miller when they break into groups, he can interact through mockery and trash talk, which works for him. Especially since Miller gives as good as he gets.

He’s congratulating himself on interacting like a normal human and never having to do it again when Miller grabs his arm. “Hey, have you played Pandemic Legacy?”

“No, just regular Pandemic.”

“I’m trying to get a game going on Thursdays. Bellamy and Clarke are in, so we need a fourth. You want to join?”

“Thursdays?” he asks, to fill the space as his brain catches up.

“Yeah. I figure we won’t make it work every week, but I want to try it. I hear it’s cool.”

“Yeah, me too. I can probably do that, yeah. Thursday nights?”

“Yup. Give me your number, I’ll text you when we’ve got a plan.”

“Awesome, sounds good. Looking forward to it.”

They shake hands, and Bellamy and Miller do a bro hug, and everyone else says their goodbyes downstairs. Clarke’s going over to Bellamy’s, which means she’s not going the same direction he is anymore, and he gets to walk home alone, letting his music dominate his brain.

Jasper’s playing Splatoon when he gets to the apartment, and Monty just collapses next to him with a groan.

“Did it suck?”

“No. It was amazing. We have a ton in common, he has a huge game collection, he wants me to join a weekly Pandemic Legacy game. I don’t know how it could have gone better.”

Jasper pats his shoulder, consoling. “Sorry, bro. That sucks.”

“Yeah, I know.”

*

Miller’s never been one of the regulars who comes in every day, so Monty doesn’t actually see him again for another couple days. He comes in on Tuesday morning, though, looking just as attractive as always, except now he has a personality.

Clarke Griffin is the worst thing that’s ever happened to Monty, probably. This is her fault.

He’s grabbing a big order of pastries when Miller comes in, so he just offers a smile, but he ends up in line right next to him, because that’s the kind of luck Monty has.

“Morning,” says Miller.

“Morning. How’s it going?”

“Okay. I was hoping you were going to be here. When do you finish work on Thursday?”

He blinks. “Oh, uh–three? Morning shift.”

“Cool. I was thinking like six for the game. Order dinner, figure out the rules, fight over how to prevent disease while the world dies around. The usual.”

“Yeah, that should work for me. Are you getting any pastries?” he adds.

“Yeah, blueberry muffin.”

Monty grabs one quickly, puts it in a bag and hands it over. It’s nothing he hasn’t done for other regulars, nothing he hasn’t done for Miller before, even. But this is the problem with a fake crush becoming a real crush: now everything feels important. It’s not fun anymore.

Which is, of course, ridiculous. He still doesn’t have a chance. He just has real things to pine over.

“Thanks,” Miller says, easy. “I’ll text you later tonight.”

“Cool. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

“Very natural,” Maya says, patting his shoulder once Miller is gone. “Totally smooth.”

“It may seem that way, but on the inside I am dying.”

“No, I can tell.”

“Thanks,” he says. “Really.”

“At least you get to hang out with him every week,” Clarke says, and he glares at her.

“I’m not even talking to you. You’re banned.”

She just smiles. “You’re welcome.”

He makes sure there are no customers around before he gives her the finger. So he’s not that doomed.

Yet.

*

Interacting with Miller isn’t that bad, except that the whole crush thing doesn’t get better. He’s just waiting for something to ruin it, and nothing does. Miller is not only hot and queer, but sarcastic and geeky and passionate. He works for a theater company that does outreach in public schools and seems to love it, and while Monty doesn’t really think he saves kittens from trees in his spare time or anything, that’s not really his type anyway.

Miller is his type. Basically just as he is. And he has no idea what to do about it.

“You could ask him out,” Clarke says. They’ve got their fifth week of Pandemic Legacy tomorrow, and Monty might be complaining. Just a little.

In his defense, it is her fault. She deserves it.

“How dare you,” he says.

“Monty doesn’t woo,” Jasper adds. “Monty is wooed.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. Most of the time, I’m neither.”

“Oh right. In general, Monty is just sad and alone.”

“That’s me,” he agrees. “I’ve got a brand, Clarke. Respect the brand.”

“And your brand can never date Miller?”

“No, my brand’s just bad at it. And I think it’s incompatible with his,” he adds.

“Really?” Clarke asks, sounding dubious. “You’re nerds who love games. How are you not on Miller’s brand?”

“His low self esteem makes it hard for him,” says Jasper, like he’s some kind of expert.

“Your mom’s low self esteem makes it hard for her,” Monty mutters.

“You’re great, Monty,” says Clarke. “Really.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean I’m asking Miller out.”

“Okay. But you could.”

“I could,” he agrees. “I’m just not.”

He assumes it’s the end of the conversation, which is true in a limited sense, but Clarke clearly doesn’t forget, because Monty’s been at Miller’s for about three minutes when their phones buzz with a message from Bellamy: Sorry, something came up, me and Clarke are out.

It’s not even a real excuse. They really could have done better.

Miller must agree, because he snorts and tosses his phone aside. “Wow, subtle.”

“You think they’re having sex?”

“Oh, probably. I meant–” He glances at Monty, like he’s thinking it over. “Bellamy’s been telling me to just make a move for weeks. He thinks just because he’s dating his barista crush, everyone else should too. So he probably decided to skip out just so I’d–do this.”

Monty’s mouth goes dry. “Wait, what?”

“No pressure,” he says, with a shrug. “But if they’re not here anyway, we could switch this to a date. Or we can pretend I didn’t say anything and play video games.”

It takes his brain a second to catch up. “Really?” is what he comes out with, and then, “I mean, um. Can we do both?”

“Both what?”

“Video game date? Like–we’re on a date, but we’re still playing video games. Is that something you’re into?”

Miller smiles. “Yeah, Monty. That’s exactly what I’m into.”

“Oh. Wow. What are the odds?”

“Pretty shitty,” Miller says. “We must be lucky.”

Monty can’t stop grinning. “Yeah, we must be.”

*

He makes Clarke a coffee when she shows up for her shift the next morning. “I’m not saying I forgive you,” he says. “But I no longer want to murder you.”

“Cool.” She raises the cup. “To customer crushes?”

“To customer boyfriends,” he corrects, and she grins.

“Even better.”

[impertfectedchoices]

I Promise - PT.3

Prompt: In a Heartbeat Ship: James X MC POV: (Point of View): James Word Count: 1,653 Tags:

@hhiggs | @destinio1 | @marryjanewaston

Artist Comment: Holaaaaa, So, pardon the, AGAIN, long break. Life’s been kicking my WHO-LE existence 😭.

This one, unintentionally, is going to be a really emotional part. This wasn’t my original plan, but it just… kind of happened. The past two months have been pretty hectic, and I’m really trying my best, But when you go through bs, it seems like you’re alone. A quote I’m gonna be using in this pretty much sums up what I’m going through. And I feel like it fits in this fic too well. So, I hope this comes across well. While writing this part, I actually cried, like, semi-broke down 😭. This hits a real personal note to me, and I hope you guys understand it. So, FAIR WARNING! I’m trying my best to not look at the situation, but how I’m going to get out of it. And your “now” won’t be your “future.” Anyone can come out of a crappy situation and thrive. You just gotta go through the storm. And all that sappy stuff, lel. 💕

PS, This, as well, was on a whim. No planning, drafting, or prethinking about plot before I write…. just gonna try to spot all the spelling errors this time 😂

le’Enjoy!

•

8:01pm

It’s feeling like elephants are sitting on my chest, since getting back to the car. I’ve never, necessarily, had problems with my breathing being under control. But sitting here; watching the car lights from main road dance across my windshield, I find that I’m constantly reminding myself to take breaths. The more I force myself, it seems, my breathing gets more shallow. I’m repeatedly feeling on the inside, each attempt to grasp at anything stable. I’ve always been able to zone out, and let my mind center on my sane points. But, as of recent, there’s nothing to feel. Numbness has replaced any form of joy to my life, leaving me a drained form of myself.

From the library, past… past MC’s house, to the highway that took me a few miles away from Hartfeld.

Familiar roads allowed for the holes to appear slowly into the wall I temporarily built up, within a 30 minute time span. I parked, went inside and felt the anxiety creep its way back in. My mind tried to put itself back together, but seemed conflicted with the storm’s leftover mess that wasn’t letting up. Every time I attempted to collect my emotions, regain what stability I believed consumed my existence, something happens to throw my progress out the window to clean, discard, and replace. One fall after the next.

My hands were still, wrapped around the wheel. Never leaves, but tightens every so often. I could feel myself tense up, veins more visible, and the white peaking through from the grip I’d had. I needed to focus on something, Anything.

There’s like… maybe over 30 cars in the parking lot.

40?

Just turned red…

Counted off 5 cars turning right at the light.

…now 6,

7?

Yea, 7.

Turned green.

White… Toyota

Um, think it’s a Camry.

The left side’s light always seems to last lo-

• knock, knock •

Now, just realizing the knocking happening next to me, I’d subconsciously whipped away any traces of emotion left on my face to greet who it’d been. To my surprise, I was greeted back with a less then stable face bundled up in her jacket. Unlocking the door, Abbie walked to the passengers side. I opened the door for her, as she climbed in, with semi-urgency. “W-wow, it’s a lot colder than I thought I’d be today.” She said with a bit of a stuttery smile. It had been getting colder since fall started creeping in, but the temperature rarely came to mind, with everything else taking up room. I tried my best to disguise any strain that I’d been feeling earlier, to save face. “Yeah, falls been catching up on us.” mentioning with a halfhearted smile. As I began fiddling with the knobs; turning switches to adjust the heat, she cleared her throat before she began breaking the silence again, “James,”

Looking back up, her face, almost immediately tensed up. Actually looking at her, you could tell she’d been worn out. She looked as if she’d been crying, and her eyes grew puffier the more seconds passed by. Abbie seemed very resilient at times. But in this moment; just like everyone else, I was stunned to see her so weakened. “Abbie. MC’s going to be oka-“ “Don’t lie,” The cracking in her voice was low, but audible enough to ring throughout my head. “James, ?Kaitlyn and Zack told me everything. I went to meet up with everyone, got inside and… and everyone was just, falling apart. Chis pulled Tyler to the side. And I’ve, I’ve never seen him look so broken. Zach couldn’t even look me in the eyes, and Kaitlyn could barely get enough words out without breaking down mid sentence…” The more she spoke, the more the reality of the situation sunk back into me. “…They told me you left, and that’s not like you. So I had to find you.” She’d been turned directly to me, eyes swelling. Looking down at my steering wheel, my hands at some point fell back into position. Feeling myself tense up, still forcing myself to control my breathing enough to speak, “I just, it was hard for me to stay in there for much lon-“

“JAMES, THAT DOESN’T MATTER!” Wide-eyed, My eyes darted back up to her. Her face had gotten a hint redder than normal, and her expression was drenched with frustration, annoyance, worry, and concern. She had been trying to do what everyone felt was impossible; break through the walls I built up when placed in these circumstances. I understood what she was trying to get accomplished, but of all moments, now wasn’t the time. “Abbie,” Attempting to bite back any amount of sternness in my voices, I continued, “… I know how your feeling right now, this isn’t easy on me either. But the last thing we need to be doing is losing it on each other.” It seemed like everything I was saying, though, was just fueling the fire. “What an excuse. So is this your way of ‘solving the situation?’ Running off and hiding in your car?” “No, but staying in there isn’t going to make it any better.” “So, what is staying locked up in here is proving? All I see is someone running away from their problems!”

I could feel every ounce of me radiate irritation. It was getting harder to swallow it. “So do you truly believe I don’t care about MC? Really?” “If you did, you’d be in that room waiting for her! You already took her for granted before, and to think I thought better of you James. I had high hopes, but she’s given you way too many chances for you to get your act together… and you just SIT HERE! You may have had a lot on you plate, but she’s literally given every chance to fix her schedule to make time for you. And all she can get is a few texts, Time you give her for newspaper club meetings? You literally stand her up to work on some dumb paper when you knew she’d been sick. And no apology? Nothing?”

I’d still been staring at the steering wheel as she spoke. The more she yelled, the tighter my grip had gotten. What she didn’t understand was that this was literally killing every inch of my being inside. It felt like I was falling in this hole; ever since Vasquez passed, plummeting. Im just ready to hit the bottom, look at the distance I have to climb, and start climbing, but there isn’t a bottom. I just keep falling. It never ends. This constant torment doesn’t seem to have an end. And I just want it to be over. Everything emotion warped around in my head together; anger, fustration, sadness, guilt, irritability, brokenhearted-ness, fear, heartache, pain. It all reeked in my body, consuming me as all I could hear in my head was yelling. Abbie’s voice faded out, and all I could here was my subconscious talking: It’s your fault, you should’ve been there, you did this, where were you, she needed you, you weren’t there, your no good for her, she’s wasting her time, your taking her for granted, she deserves better, let her go…

“God James, I would thought you’d learn better from everything you put her through. Even with Vasq-“

BEEEEEEEEP!

“BE QUIET!!!!!”

I slammed my fist into the wheel instinctively. I needed the voices to stop, the agony to stop, I just needed to be able to hear thoughts that were my own. She jumped, looking shocked towards me. She didn’t expect such a response from me.

“Be quiet, be quiet, be quiet, it’s not true… it’s not true. I care… I care, I swear.” I’d kept repeating this to myself, extensively tight clutch on the steering wheel, hunched over it.

“I care, I swear I care about her… I love her so much, God. Please, make her okay, i swear I’ll do better I care I care I care She means the world to me she does I need her”

I kept repeating it, over and over again. I needed what I believed to overpower what was going on in my head. But I didn’t have the strength to keep up the facade. They were right, it was my fault. She���s been so stressed because of me. I didn’t deserve her, I should have been a better partner, a better friend, a better boyfriend… I didn’t notice Abbie grab me from my stance and held me. She had been the one consoling me this time around. The hold I had over my emotions just gave out. It felt as if me as a person broke, shattered for the first time, as I was left to face my emotions, instead of disguise them.

“I’m so sorry, MC. I’m so fucking sorry, I’m sor-ry I’m so- I’m so-rryyyy.” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Dropping my face into my hands, my heart wrenched and I dissolved in myself. Shaking, all I could do was replay what she’d told me, making my soul call out for her more;

”I’m fine James, it’s just a small cold. Nothing I… *sniff* can’t handle!”

”I’ll be okay James, I promise.”

”Geez, so mushy.”

”… but I love you too, my darling.”

•LAST •NEXT

[ftafp]

okay, so I ended up deciding to make drumphtaschen, and naturally I wasn't going to settle for pumpkin cookies. no, this is go big or go home territory, so cotton candy it is.

the recipe that follows is pretty much identical to the chinese dessert known as Dragons Beard Candy, which is like cotton candy but made by hand rather than mechanically using traditional noodle-pulling techniques. the result is slightly different in mouthfeel, but with enough practice anyone can make it. lets get started shall we?

Ingredients

2 cups sugar

1 cup water

1/2 cup honey or 1/2cup light corn syrup plus 1/2 tsp extract of yor choice

1/2 tsp distilled white vinegar

yellow food coloring

1/2 cup corn starch

first, lets mix the liquid ingredients together thoroughly to dilute the honey/corn syrup. I ended up using corn syrup because they had maple extract at fairway and Im a massive buttslut for canadian amber. add them to a pot over low heat and insert a thermometer to keep an eye on the temp I use a paperclip to keep the thermometer from falling in

keeping an eye on the temperature bring the syrup up to around 268°F. Do not stir the mixture, even if syrup forms two distinct layers. liquids will even out, swathes of air bubbles wont.

when you reach the temperature, allow the syrup to cool down to about 212°F, then decant into a lightly greased container and refrigerate until set. the recipes that I referenced recommended a donut pan for this, but we don't need no stinking donut pan so Tupperware it is!

while this is going, add the cornstarch to a completely dry pan and toast over low heat, stirring with a spatula until it's hot but not not burnt. this step is optional, so I didn't do it, but what we're doing is converting starch to dextrin and maltodextrin which have the same nonstick properties but dissolve easily in the mouth without tasting like flour

when the candy has cooled completely and set to a consistency just softer than a jolly rancher (not when its still warm to the touch and collapses under its own weight, which unfortunately causes irreversible damage), remove it from the mold and shape into 2-4 rings, then dust with the starch from earlier. its important that you form them into rigs before dusting them, or else bad things happen

there, see, that cleaned up nicely. its a little wrinkly but its still good. Im sure it will all smooth bout

now, take those rings and carefully work them in your hand by tugging gently on the candy section by section like the worlds smallest circlejerk. keep going until its lengthened out, then when you think its long enough, twist it up in a figure-8 pattern and fold over to create a double loop

okay, maybe it didn't smooth out yet, but keep pulling, making sure to run the bottom of the candy back through the starch to keep the strands from clumping together when your hands tighten. we're going to want to have twisted this 15 times by the end to get a total 32,768 strands

fuck! okay, new plan, lets try pulling this shit apart

FUCK!

Fuck!

this is not the time to be lying on the floor! you are supposed to be cotton candy!

As a member of the jewish community, I honestly, truly, deeply aspire to ascend to the same level of pettiness that drove my ancestors to create the pastry known as the Hamantaschen

For those of you who didn’t grow up in the jewish community, Hamantaschen (pron. Ha-men-ta-shen) is a cookie we eat every year on Purim which is a holiday that commemorates the time Queen Esther of Persia singlehandedly prevented a genocide of the jewish people at the hands of the vizier Haman. The cookies, which are are triangular and stuffed with a sweet filling (usually jam) were designed specifically to mock Haman, though it’s a matter of scholarly debate whether they’re supposed to make fun of his weird-looking ears, or his weird-looking hat.

Now, I should note that to my knowledge, it’s only Haman we mock with baked goods, but personally, I don’t see any good reason why we and other communities shouldn’t apply the same tactic elsewhere:

President’s day is only a week away. Either mix up some pumpkin cookie batter, get out the tiny hand-shaped molds, or start googling how to make lemon-flavored cotton candy, because personally, I think it’s about damn time we make drumphtaschen a thing

[fadingpersoncollectorstuff-blog]

North Salem New Hampshire Cheap car insurance quotes zip 3073

"North Salem New Hampshire Cheap car insurance quotes zip 3073

North Salem New Hampshire Cheap car insurance quotes zip 3073

BEST ANSWER:  Try this site where you can compare quotes: : http://financeandcreditsolution.xyz/index.html?src=tumblr 

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North Salem New Hampshire Cheap car insurance quotes zip 3073

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North Salem New Hampshire Cheap car insurance quotes zip 3073

North Salem New Hampshire Cheap car insurance quotes zip 3073

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North Salem New Hampshire Cheap car insurance quotes zip 3073

North Salem New Hampshire Cheap car insurance quotes zip 3073

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What does a saliva test took for when getting life insurance?

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I am 17 years old on provisional license and about to take out insurance for my car. I received a quote from Quinn Direct for about 1050, but I wanted to know what will happen when I pass my test and have full license? Will I have to pay more?""

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I am a 21 year old female with no little credit but I have no bad credit. I rent an apartment and pay all my bills on time. I have a 2004 monte carlo ss that I paid 3500 for. This is ...show more

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Let's say that you get life insurance and claim to be a non-smoker. Then let's say that you start smoking or resume smoking. Assuming that your medical records show that you ...show more

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iv not long ago passed, paying 1100 on a 1.2 any idea? cheers LS""

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What are the pros and cons of car insurance?

What are the pros and cons of car insurance?

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I am a college student looking for affordable insurance with decent coverage. (it's like a needle in a haystack, I know) I don't have any major health problems, so that wouldn't be an issue. I'm already looking into state regulated programs, but I was wondering what privately owned companies might have to offer. What companies have you had a good personal experience with? Or what companies have given you the run-around? What companies should I avoid? P.s. I live in central minnesota if that makes a difference.""

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What are ways to get cheaper insurance on a sport bike? I'm 24 and am looking into getting one but all insurance sites I've visited say at least 6000$, any hints or ways to get that lower? I'm in Ontario as well. thanks guys""

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Are Insurance company annuities insured by the government of the USA?

How should I insure my now deceased father's house?

My father has recently passed and his house is currently vacant. It is a small home only around 1,000 sq. ft. It hasn't been estimated recently but I would guess it's value around $60,000. Homes in the area are going for foreclosure for less than $30,000. My son plans on living in the home a year from now. How should we insure the home in the mean time? If we can find someone we know and trust we may rent it out in the mean time, if not, how should we? The home is currently in my sister and I's name. What do we need to do to keep costs down? I'm talking about insurance and taxes. Thanks for any advice!""

How much would full coverage auto insurance be?

I plan on getting a 2010 Dodge Challenger R/T Classic and was wondering about how much would full coverage be in Northern Virginia,I would ask the insurance company but I'm not the one with the policy and if you're wondering what insurance we have its Farmers.""

What insurance companies will insure you if you have had a claim denied because of fraud?

Please help! I am not a thief and have never been one although my current insurance company think I am. My car was stolen from my house in March this year and NRMA have denied the claim stating that i was untruthful in my claim. (basically that I did it to do a insurance job) I have many valid reasons why I couldn't have stolen the car.... I had a one year old asleep in the house, I only just bought the car, Would have lost a lot of money if I did receive the insurance money as I over paid for th car and it was only insurance for 12k. I have no criminal record and a clean driving record. I have had 2 cars and and home and contents insurance for 7 years and never made a claim in my life. etc etc etc. They are saying the a correctly coded key was used to drive the car away and there is no possibility that someone other then me would have a key for it. Basically, its all a load of crap. I have tried appealling it with the insurance company but once again been denied. The case is now with the insurance obundsman and I will will be taking them to court if the claim is not finalised in my favour by the obundsman. The policy for my husbands car is due and NRMA are not renewing and I have tried gaining other insurance with different companies but as soon as I explain the story, no one will touch me. I know I have to be honest in case we have a claim in future and if we lie they wont approve the claim. I cannot be without insurance for my house or cars but i have been totally blacklisted from NRMA. So I am asking, are there any insurance companies that will cover us under these circumstances? Or has anyone had a similar situation that could help with some advise. In addition, the police who investigated the theft (after receiving the forensic information) told me they couldn't charge me with lying to the police because they had no proof... So how can nrma not approve that claim when they have the same proof? Thanks in advance""

What would the insurance cost for a 2002 Audi TT?

Just looking for a quick estimate. I'm a 20 year old male with a moving violation that happened two years ago. It would be a California car. Probably would drive about 8,000 miles a year. Also would it matter if it was a roadster(convertible) or coupe? Thanks""

How to get TD auto insurance quote in Ontario?

I am a new driver in Ontario with G2 licence. Never had insurance before. Got my G1in Oct. 2012 and G2 in Oct 2013. I am 33 years old married male. I have completed drivers' certification course. I don't have any ticket or any conviction. I am going to buy new 2013 Hyundai Sonata GL. I shopped online and with brokers too. All are quoting me around $320 - 350. I haven't heard anything from TD yet as they wanted me to give them written application to get a quote from them. (I don't know why?). I know TD gives cheap quotes, but I need to know an estimate. After submitting written application, I have to wait 3-4 weeks to hear from them. Can anyone be able to tell me how much will be TD's quote? (at least an estimate?) Thank you in advance!!!""

Whats the best insurance?

Im still on my dads insurance till I'm 21, but it wont cover prenatal care for his children unless its his spouse having his baby.... which is like most insurance... so what is the best insurance for me to use? I need opinions.... THANKS A BUNCH!""

""Insurance policy,,,,,,,,,,,?

I signed a life insurance policy on the spot. It was an error at some point. I realize that what i needed was a retirement insurance. Is it possible to request the insurance company to change my policy?

Cheap Insurance For Teens.?

I am 17, and I live in KY. Know a cheap company?""

How do I calculate my monthly house insurance for my math project?

You will also have to purchase house insurance, which costs a yearly average of 0.3% of the purchase price of your home. Calculate your monthly house insurance. What should I add, divide, and/or mulitply? Thank you for your help!""

North Salem New Hampshire Cheap car insurance quotes zip 3073

North Salem New Hampshire Cheap car insurance quotes zip 3073

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