#just a little thing while i distract myself from the election

[the-raindeer-king]

"I want to go home."

Your boyfriend sighs in response, not bothering to hide his annoyance. You can't blame him. You were the one who wanted to go to the flea market. He had wanted to stay at home, to sleep in on his rare day off.

"It hasn't even been an hour, love," he replies, his eyes roaming over the throwing knives at the stall you're standing in front of.

When you don't respond, Simon finally turns his attention onto you. He sees the frown tugging at your lips, the anxious expression in your eyes. You'd been so excited to come here, so why are you frowning now?

He takes you hand, leading you through the stalls and the crowd, trying to find somewhere a little less crowded. Thankfully, there's some picnic tables that you can sit down at, shaded and void of people.

"What happened?"

You stare down at your shoes, quiet for a moment. Then you explain, voice soft and anxious, "I saw some girls looking at me, and when I looked over at them, they started laughing."

Simon grits his teeth, staring at you. He knows about your struggle with your self confidence, and he hates that you don't see yourself the way he sees you. Simon thinks you're absolutely gorgeous, the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

Far more gentle than you'd expect from someone like Simon, he takes ahold of your face in his hands. His words are a little less gentle.

"Who fuckin' cares what some noisy birds think? You look beautiful, love. You are beautiful."

It's easier to hear than to believe. But this is Simon, and he may be a lot of things but he's not a liar. So you let his words warm you from the inside out, and when you smile at him, he smiles in return.

"I love you," you whisper, and he grins, pulling you to your feet.

"Love you too, doll. Now, come on. I wasn't done with those knives."

[aishangotome]

Clavis Lelouch: Even If I Can No Longer Play Pranks

From A Hidden Oath: King of the BEAST (2024 Election) - Collection Event

Thank you @dark-frosted-heart for providing the SE video!

—

Under the gentle sunlight, we went on a picnic date to the lakeside, but...

Emma tilted her head, puzzled, at the cupcake she took out of the basket.

Clavis: What's wrong? Not in the mood for cupcakes?

Emma: No, it looks delicious, but I'm a little surprised it's not homemade by you, Clavis...

Clavis: I heard it's popular in town.

Clavis: But I didn't realize you were craving my special cake... I've failed as a fiancé.

Emma: Of course I miss it, but I'm very happy with the cupcakes too.

Emma: I'll have one right away!

Clavis: Yes, I've prepared all kinds for you. Enjoy them to your heart's content.

Seeing Emma happily munching on the cupcakes fills me with contentment.

(I'm changing things up today. I don't want to bore her by doing the same thing all the time.)

(...But it's unsettling to not have anything planned.)

Emma: As expected of a famous cake. It's really delicious.

Emma: But I guess it's a little lonely without your special cake, Clavis.

Clavis: To hear such words, you've truly been influenced by me.

Emma: I've experienced so many of your pranks that I've had no choice but to get used to it.

(Ah, usually - no, even since I was young, I've always tried to get attention with pranks.)

(Otherwise, an ordinary person like me would fade into the background.)

(But now it's different. Even without trying to get attention, you look at me more than anyone else.)

(Still, I can't help but wonder...)

(What if you get tired of me someday and leave me?)

Even though I know it's unlikely, I can't help but think about it sometimes.

Clavis: Then, I must think of even more outlandish pranks that you can't get used to.

Emma: No, it's alright. Really.

Clavis: Don't be shy, don't be shy.

(The reason why I still have the bad habit of playing pranks on Emma to get her attention is)

(Probably because I'm unconsciously trying to prevent myself from doing so.)

(But if, by any chance, I can't even play pranks anymore...)

He offered her a book with a ribbon.

Emma accepted it as if examining it, opened the cover, and looked at it closely.

And finally, as if she had decided it was an ordinary book, her expression changed to one of suspicion again.

Emma: Clavis... did you eat something bad? Or did you have a nightmare?

Emma: Or are you feeling down... If you have any worries, please tell me!

Clavis: Haha, you're overthinking it. I'm always a devoted man - there's nothing strange, okay?

Clavis: Now, there's no one to disturb us here. Enjoy reading to your heart's content by the quiet lakeside.

Emma: That's fine, but...

Emma: But it's true that it's a happy time to be able to read a book while eating delicious food under the warm sun.

(That's right, that's right. I knew you'd be happy as a book lover, and my plan worked.)

As Emma finally smiled brightly and opened the book, the edges of the pages fluttered in the wind.

Clavis: It's getting a little windy. Even though it's good weather for a picnic, aren't you cold? That's right...

Emma: Wah...

I picked Emma up and sat her on my lap.

Clavis: You don't have to worry about that if you read like this.

Emma: Clavis, you just put me on your lap and didn't do anything... What's wrong with you today?

(She's worried, but her earlobes are bright red. Oh no, she's so cute I want to take a bite... my wicked heart aches...)

But determined to stick to my resolve, I cleared his throat and returned a gentlemanly smile.

Clavis: What? Do you think the only thing you can do without distractions is read?

Emma: Meaning...?

Clavis: It's just the two of us here, the perfect setting for a little fun with my fiancée, wouldn't you agree?

(When the time comes that I can't play pranks anymore, how will I confront this love and keep Emma's attention...?)

(Thinking about that time, I need to devise ways to capture her attention now, not through pranks, but through more straightforward methods.)

(As a first step, I've decided to thoroughly spoil Emma today.)

Emma: ...Does this mean today is a no-prank day?

Clavis: A peaceful day like this isn't so bad, is it?

Having dodged her probing question, Emma opened her mouth again with a serious and loving look in her eyes.

Emma: Isn't Clavis only Clavis when he's playing pranks?

Emma: I'm always prepared to handle those pranks, so don't hold back now.

(It must only be Emma who would face my pranks head-on like this.)

Clavis: I see, so simply being loved isn't enough for you?

Emma: I don't want to agree, but thanks to someone, it seems I've become that kind of person.

Clavis: Haha, there's no other woman as spirited and delightful as you.

Clavis: That's what makes you my beloved fiancée.

Emma: If you understand, then that's all that matt—mm!

As she wished, without waiting for her to finish, I parted her lips with a mischievous kiss and entwined my tongue with her surprised one.

Her body trembled slightly on my lap, probably because she was starting to feel the sweet sensation.

Emma: ...C-Couldn't we save the rest for when we're back?

Clavis: I told you, it's just the two of us here.

Clavis: The perfect place to make love, wouldn't you say?

As I slid my hand from under her skirt and caressed her thigh, Emma's eyes moistened with heat.

Emma: ...B-But there's no guarantee someone won't come, right?

Clavis: Don't worry, I've made sure no one will come near for a while.

Clavis: Now, think of this as another one of your requested pranks, my fiancée.

As I kissed her gently, conveying all my love, I made a deep vow in my heart.

(I will continue to search for ways to keep you by my side with love in the form of pranks.)

(And even when the day comes that I can't play pranks anymore, I swear to continue my love for you.)

FIN

[chainofclovers]

I think there’s too much on my mind in just about every category of life because trying to do my work is even more challenging than usual. My work is going fine, but I swear to god I’ll be setting out to do a task that involves checking an email for a link I needed, and then I’ll end up replying to a totally different email, and then that’ll set off a chain of 8 other things I have to write down or otherwise take care of, and I’ll be able to force myself to do maybe 3 of those, and then I look back at my other monitor and realize I still didn’t fucking get that original link. So then I get the link, I do the task. Whew, that’s done. But actually I was just doing that one very specific task so I could procrastinate on a larger, more challenging thing that I literally need to be ready to discuss with my boss in 3 hours, half an hour of which will be taken up with a meeting that could absolutely be an email, and all the time I spent doing these more minor work things while also getting distracted by the rest of my life means I really just screwed myself over.

It’s possible, of course, that this is yet another manifestation of undiagnosed ADHD or whatever. I respect those diagnoses, I respect how real ADHD is, I’ve personally never felt the need to seek anything specific w/r/t that condition…and I also wonder if I’m just too keen to distract myself even from actually sitting down and thinking about all that more seriously LOL.

And the rest of life? My marriage, my friends, my family, all the intricacies there, the very welcome obligations that nonetheless require time and thought. The election. Global conflicts/feeling sick over it. Busyness with volunteering, some of which I do both because I love it and because it feels like a carbon offset of some of the most destructive things related to corporate job. Fandom stuff (I’m still processing how I’m both excited and wary of what an s4 Ted Lasso experience will be like, and trying to actually READ INFORMATION about this “developing story” of the options being picked up and what that actually means), which as always is a source of both creative fun and community and also means exposure to some drama and bullshit, which could skitter off into a million distracting thoughts about whether my own levels of sensitivity, my relationship to my own logic, etc. are within a reasonable range for me. Health stuff, mine and others, although (thankfully!) nothing currently threatening the ability of my loved ones to stay alive. Nursing hurt feelings and the humiliation and obsessive self-questioning that always accompanies any sort of rejection, no matter how much I intellectually get it.

I always feel like I have stretches of months where things are largely going very well, my default is happiness, and then anything negative feels more like an additive, something to process, something I can accommodate because of the calm center of my foundation. And then there are little stretches like this one where my anxiety and distractability have leeched into the foundation and I have to figure out how to rebuild it. (And the weirdness of knowing that feeling sometimes lasts only a few days, sometimes much longer.)

My life is so charmed and so simple and so complicated and so privileged and so exhausting and I should really finish up this deck since I now have only 2.5 hours until I need to have something concrete for my boss.

TL;DR has anyone on this planet figured out the relationship between situational depression/anxiety and the rest of their life? 😆

[yaksha-lover]

For the vampire au I crave fluff

Like mc, ask Idia, azul, and Leona to teach them how to play chess. ( I've actually been teaching myself imagining I'm playing against one of them >////< it's surprising elective)

“I have better things to do, herbivore. Get one of them to teach you,” Leona says, settling down for a nap on the ottoman.

You turn your gaze to Idia and Azul, already settled in to a match. It’s Idia’s turn, so Azul responds first.

“Are you prepared to offer something in return?” He smiles at you, pushing up his glasses.

“Azul-”

“Kidding, kidding. Come, sit beside me, dear.”

You narrow your eyes at the nickname, but pull up a chair to sit at the side of the table, between the two players. Idia flips the sand timer, alerting Azul that it’s his turn.

“This is what you don’t want to do, MC,” Idia whispers to you, while Azul glares back at him.

“Stop distracting me.”

“I’m trying to teach MC. How else will they learn?”

Azul silently continues, ignoring Idia. He manages to capture one of Idia’s knights, before resetting the timer.

“Not so confident now, are you?” Azul comments, tone still light despite his obvious mockery. “See, MC. You should really be watching me.”

“Just you wait, normie. I’ve already run the possible simulations in my head, and I knew you would do that!”

“Oi,” Leona calls from the ottoman. “Be quiet, herbivores, some people are trying to sleep over here.”

“It’s literally the middle of the afternoon,” you muse. “Also, why are you sleeping in the game room? You have a perfectly good bedroom, you know.”

“I don’t control where I rest, the nap does. Now quiet.”

Rolling your eyes, you refocus on the game in front of you. A couple turns have passed.

“How?!” Azul exclaims suddenly, looking down at the board where Idia has claimed his queen.

“I told you, I already knew you would do that,” Idia gloats.

“You knew- wait a minute, I see that earpiece! Idia! I told you, using Ortho to run simulations for the best move is cheating!”

“Uhhh- I don’t know what you’re talking about?” he says, not so subtly brushing his hair out to cover his ear.

Ortho suddenly bursts through the door, spotting his brother. “Idia, the earpiece will malfunction if it gets too close to your hair!”

Idia lets out a pathetic shriek when he realizes the gadget is smoking, running with it out of the room.

You turn back to Azul, still sitting at the table. “Will you still teach me, Azul?”

“Unfortunately, my lungs are quite sensitive and with the smoke left behind by the Shrouds, I believe I must take my leave.” When he notices you look a little bit disappointed, Azul tilts your chin gently to face him. “Worry not, I promise I’ll play with you tomorrow. I won’t even charge you,” he winks. “Goodbye for now, MC,” he drops a kiss on your hand before exiting the room.

You notice Leona still napping away in the corner, completely oblivious to the conflict. “Leonaaa, wake up. There’s smoke.”

He continues snoring. Taking the opportunity of a lifetime, you ignore the smoke and begin petting his ears. They’re so soft and smooth, it’s like-

Leona wakes up with a start, grabbing you and flipping you underneath him on the ottoman.

“MC?” he asks, too drowsy from sleep to remember he never calls you by your real name.

“You’re uh- you’re so close,” you half-whisper, taken aback my Leona suddenly pinning you underneath him. You can feel the warmth of his arms, so close.

He pulls away, looking around. “Where did the brats go? Whatever, who cares. Why the hell did you wake me up?”

“The air was getting bad, it’s a long story. Leona, you’re the last one here. Can you please teach me?”

He sighs, resigned to giving up on napping. “I should be teaching you some manners. Fine, sit down. You better listen up, you hear? I won’t be repeating myself, and I won’t go easy on you just because you’re a newbie.” The two of you sit across from each other at the table Idia and Azul vacated. “And know, if I keep winning against you, I’ll have to take some kind of reward from you. Maybe if you let me have some of that blood, I won’t be so tired all the time.”

“I- Leona-”

“Ugh, you’re so gullible. Staying stoic in chess is half the game. Looks like we have a lot of work to do.”

You can’t help but laugh at yourself, settling in to learn from Leona.

[evita-shelby]

The Wreckage

sequel to Look Both Ways where we get the reason why Lucy left and why Tommy and Eva couldn't make it work after she filed for divorce.

cw: refrenced suicide attempt, mental illnesses, unhealthy coping mechanisms, angst, drama, murder accusations.

you know something nice to distract yall from the US Elections tonight

@justrainandcoffee @mischievouslittlecreature @zablife @call-sign-shark @hoodeddreams13 @thegreatdragonfruta

After Eva had that vision of Lucy blowing her brains out, she takes the first train back to Small Heath and gets there just in time to stop her.

They have a much-needed talk, it falls on Eva to convince the redhead that it is not her fault.

Considering they are all in various states of disrepair, the witch fucking hates to be the Strong one while the other two points of the triangle get to lose their shit about it. Eva is too busy trying to keep them from hurting themselves to even mourn her own loss.

Tommy isolated himself and got so drunk he ended up in a holding cell for his own safety, Lucy ended up believing the Shelby Clan’s words that she shouldn’t have remained Tommy’s lover when he decided to court and marry Eva.

Eva barely had time to settle in her new leased townhouse before the Universe decided she could not just wash her hands of them and move on with her life. She hates it when her powers force her to be a better person.

The witch had to explain how her previous relationships had not left her in the condition needed to accept having a man who is not entirely hers, how she knows they will all be the better for it and that if anyone is at fault it is Eva for being too desperate to avoid her impending execution.

“How do you hold yourself together like that?” Lucy had asked as she confided in her about her plans to seek out her maternal family. She needed time as well, they all did.

“Because neither you nor Tommy have given me the chance to properly fall apart.” The witch admitted wryly, she was as honest with Lucy as she was with Tommy ---sometimes she’d use it to purposely hurt them to assuage her need of space and the fear that Tommy didn’t love her as much as she did him. “Trust me, I should have been in London crying my heart out and fucking a stranger with a thing for pregnant women instead of bailing Tommy out and keeping you from making my decision to save myself obsolete.”

“Then why save me? You could have been happy with him; you are giving him a child.” The redhead ---still wallowing in her despair and guilt--- demands to know why Eva didn’t seize her chance at happiness. “He said you told him you’d have four children and live in the country.”

“And if I had let you die, I would still be second place even if you were a ghost tormenting him. No life is worth living with a man who doesn’t love you the way you need him to anyways.” The dark-haired woman answered bluntly as they sat down a little further away from what would have been a crime scene.

“I can’t stay here. Not when everyone blames me for it.” By everyone she does mean everyone.

The Shelbys had taken Polly’s side and everyone else correctly guessed Tommy having a lover is what destroyed the fairytale romance.

It was a terrible place to be, Eva had not considered how cruel they’d be to Lucy only focused on leaving a man who placed Lucy over here time and time again. Why Tommy couldn’t just marry her and avoid this mess was beyond Eva’s comprehension.

Marriage is safety when you do not love in the conventional way.

“Have you finally given my suggestions to find your mother and your aunt some thought?” she asked the Red Demon who had been reluctant on accepting Eva’s offer to help her find her family because neither she nor Tommy appeared to be capable or surviving without the other.

They could, they are just too pessimistic and they refuse to give it a real, honest try. Eva had been there once, and now seeks to pull them out of the dark waters even if they like it there.

“Yes, maybe if I had said yes when you offered the first time we wouldn’t be in this mess.” And because Lucy wants to see if Tommy would be happy without her here. Not by being the ghost haunting him, but as the lover who left him. “You should’ve told me we were making you feel unloved.”

“I know, but I feared losing him, and while I do get on with you, I do not like you that way. We are just too different.” Part of Eva still wants the life she saw with Tommy that morning in Brighton. Is it wrong for her to desire her own happiness after life took everything from her? Why was she losing her one thread to life again? Why couldn't someone else be the one to sacrifice their happiness for her instead of her doing it every single time?

“I had guessed as much. I am not as ignorant as Polly makes me look.” Her ex lover nodded in agreement, and both said their goodbyes before parting ways.

The last person seen with Lucy was Eva. A gunshot was heard and only Eva came back.

There was no body nor signs of a struggle, but he knows what the witch is capable of. She had one demand when he refused to sign the papers in London.

Me or Her.

And when he refused to choose her then and there, he left to drown out his sorrows and make his choice.

He loved both women. He loved Eva fiercely, loved her fire, her strength and her ambition to take back everything she had lost.

But he loved Lucy more. He couldn’t just leave her like this. It would kill her.

“We will have everything we have ever wanted, mi amor.” She had proclaimed that morning after their wedding.

Four children, a baronetcy, a career in politics. They would be as happy and as in love as they were that morning.

He had been a fool to assume she saw Lucy in it.

And because he was going to choose Lucy over her, Eva killed her.

She was just as damaged as them. Lost everything she ever had, and now that she stood to lose the chance to have it all again with him, the witch took it.

What Lucy was capable off wasn’t close to what Eva could do. Eva had the advantage of money and magic.

“You killed her!” he cannot contain himself when he finds her still packing up what she owned in Ada’s old room. She had moved there when it became clear he would sleep with both women.

Eva is shocked from his words angry in ways he had never seen. The words had hurt her like a blow to the stomach and woke the beast underneath the soft warm skin

“Oh, yes, because I would be so fucking sloppy as to have the murder weapon in my hands and be so obvious!” The witch mocks him and denies it. "If I had killed her, you would have never found out about it."

He should’ve known she wanted him to choose her.

He couldn’t choose so she choose for him.

“You killed Lucy!” he shouts again as he comes to shake her and demand to know why she did this to her.

Eva slaps him hard enough to leave a mark.

“I didn’t fucking kill her! Why would I go through all the trouble of divorcing you if I intended to kill her?” the witch shouts back when even her hand on his cheek is not enough to break him out of that thought.

“Then where is she? Why were you the only one to come back here?” He knows deep down she didn’t and yet he cannot stop his mind from finding a reason to believe she did.

“She needed time away from here, to get away from a place that hates her. Just as I am doing.” We need to be away from you.

“Then why didn’t she tell me?” he asks the woman who he knows won’t ever forgive him.

“You wouldn’t have let her go, just as you are not man enough to let me go.” She hates as strongly as she loves, and now Tommy knows what the Witch’s anger feels like. “Just as you are so fucking full of it that you fucking came here and accused me of killing your precious Lucy.

Me, the mother of your child, the wife you promised to love and cherish before God and Men; and you couldn’t even love me enough to give me the presumption of innocence.” Her anger turns to hot tears as she lets him have it. “I should’ve left England when I had the chance.”

Tommy has only seen Eva cry three times in his life. The day he taught her to shoot, the day she left him and the day he killed her love for him.

“I'm sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I know you would never do that.” Even when he means it, even when he tries to show her how truly sorry he is for the way he acted, for the fucking way he doubted her like this, his wife flinches away form him.

Moves away from him as if his touch physically hurt her.

“If it had been me who disappeared, you wouldn’t have accused Lucy of killing me.” She won’t ever forgive him, there is no love for him in her eyes only hatred he created and he will have to live with that for the rest of his days. “You do not love me like you love her, now I wonder if you ever loved me at all.”

But he does love her, and that is what makes it all worse. He’s lost her even when that is the last thing he wanted to do.

“Evie, please---” Tommy chases after her, refusing to accept the defeat he crafted with his own bloody hands.

“I will never set foot here unless you are dead.” The witch refuses to look at him as she too walks out of his life and leaves him standing on the wreckage of their love.

She was right when she called him a fucking fool when it comes to love. Always right when it comes to him and not once has she ever lied to him.

Which is why he will set this right, even if it means following her to London.

[666writingcafe]

So, tomorrow is my birthday, and I'm trying really hard to calm my anxiety about the US Presidential Election, so I've picked a prompt from my Fall Menu and I'm gonna write it for myself. At least for a little while, it should distract me from the impending sense of doom I'm currently feeling.

Order #11

“I’ll be honest: I get off to the thought of you.” Lucifer x GN!MC

It started with a bottle of Demonus and a writing assignment.

This semester, I'm taking a theater class to improve my acting skills for RAD's Improv Club. I've done okay so far, but I've been told multiple times that I have a stick up my ass and need to relax. Maybe not in those exact words, but I'm pretty good at reading between the lines.

I suppose in this way, my pride is a detriment to my performance. I'm afraid of looking stupid in front of other people, especially when they're much more knowledgeable about a subject than I am. I feel rather nervous whenever I'm standing in front of the class, reading lines out loud. If I mess up, I feel like they'd all start mocking me. Word would spread across campus about how the Avatar of Pride isn't good at something, and everyone would stop taking me seriously.

Insecurity is a bitch sometimes.

Tonight's assignment is to write a monologue that starts with the line, I'll be honest: I get off to the thought of you. The professor will read through all of them and select a couple that he wants read out loud in class. Of course, being the prideful and competitive man I am, I want to be among that group. It would be nice to excel at this and essentially prove everyone wrong.

That's where the Demonus comes in.

I honestly tried my best to attack this sober, but the only thing I've successfully written in the past hour is the prompt itself. Nothing else has looked or sounded right. I figured the wine would help calm my frustration and somehow inspire me.

Two glasses should do it, at least as a start.

A gentle knock on the door interrupts me as soon as I've finished pouring glass number one. There's only one person in this entire House that has the decency to knock quietly.

"Come in," I call out, taking a sip of Demonus. The door slowly creaks open and closed as they enter the room.

"I brought you dinner." A plate soon gets set on a clean spot on my desk, away from any paperwork. "I figured you were in for a busy night when you rushed in here as soon as we returned from class, and I didn't want you to go hungry."

"Thanks." I quickly glance up at MC to acknowledge their presence before returning to the assignment at hand. However, I inadvertently meet their gaze, and I'm suddenly unable to look away.

Perhaps it's the lighting that makes them alluring in a t-shirt and sweatpants, or maybe I accidentally grabbed a stronger bottle than usual when I was at the store. In any case, seeing them causes ideas to begin pour into my head.

"Do you need to do anything else this evening?" I ask, my voice sounding oddly desperate.

"Not necessarily," they answer. "I mean, I was wanting to get a jump start on a project, but it can wait until tomorrow."

"Good. Would you mind taking a seat? I need you for something."

"Of course. What do you need me to do?"

"Just be here with me. I'll explain once I'm done writing." MC dutifully sits in one of the chairs across from me and pulls out their DDD as I begin scribbling furiously in my notebook. I can always rewrite this to look neater later, but if I don't get these ideas out of my head now, I'm afraid they're not going to appear again, and I really need to prove a point.

I can be vulnerable. I just need to be around the right person in order for that to happen, and if I can channel that into this monologue, then surely I'll get chosen to read it out loud, right?

~~~

"There. All done."

"I'm pleasantly surprised, Lucifer. You've managed to finish before I began nodding off." I playfully glare at MC, who reacts by sticking their tongue out at me.

Fuck, they're adorable.

I briefly explain the assignment to them, and they're astute enough to know that I want to read what I've written to them. Mostly so that they can help me edit, but this little exercise ended up morphing into a confession of sorts.

They need to hear these words come out of my mouth exactly as I've written them.

"Whenever you're ready, I'm all ears," they tell me. Clearing my throat, I begin reciting my monologue.

I'll be honest, I get off to the thought of you. Your smile, your scent, your sense of humor...everything about you turns me on. You have me wrapped around your finger in a way that no one else has before. I want to please you, and I'll do anything for your approval. Just the thought of you makes my heart skip a beat, and my pulse quicken. I want you more than words can describe. So, let me show you just how much I adore you. I'll do whatever you say, be whatever you want me to be, and give you all the pleasure in the world. Just the thought of holding you in my arms is enough to drive me wild. I crave you.

I want to feel your lips pressed against mine. To feel your warm breath against my skin. To hear the sound of your voice as you whisper sweet nothings into my ear. To touch every inch of your body and memorize every curve. To be yours, and for you to be mine. I want to hear the sound of your voice as you moan my name. To know that it's me making you experience true ecstasy would make me the happiest man in the world.

I love you, body and soul. Just let me prove it to you. I promise you won't regret it.

Looking up from my notebook reveals a blushing MC fiddling with the hem of their shirt.

"That was well-done," they mumble. "I'm sure you'll get high marks." They momentarily pause, swallowing nervously. "Can I ask you something?"

I nod my head, closing the notebook so they have my undivided attention.

"Did you have any other plans this evening?" They sound fearful. Are they afraid I'll reject their request?

"None that don't involve you." They initially open their mouth to respond, but quickly close it as my words fully register in their head.

"I see." Another swallow. "I haven't exactly been in this position before. Usually I'm the one submitting to other people. Are you sure you want me to do this?" I walk around my desk and stand in front of them, reaching down to touch the side of their face.

"My dear, silly little lamb, I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Besides, most of the hard work has been done already. All you have to do is give me an order. You don't even have to use the pact to get me to obey. I'll do whatever you say."

"Within reason?" I chuckle.

"I trust your judgement." MC closes their eyes and takes a deep breath.

"I want you in my bed. I know it's much smaller than yours, but--"

"Done. What else?" My interruption catches them off guard.

"Well...um..."

"Breathe." After MC takes another moment to compose themselves, they whisper,

"I wanna ride you."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy

[thezombieprostitute]

Flowers in Storms

A/N: Another entry for @the-slumberparty​‘s Bingo, again mixing three squares: Friends with benefits, Trapped together, and Flowershop AU. Reader is female.

Warnings: Mentions of the death of a character. Storms and storm damage. Angst.

The bell above your door jingles and you know who it is without even looking up. “Good afternoon, Sheriff. I’ve got your order right here.”

“How do you do that, Y/N?” Lee walks up to the counter, shaking his head. In the years he’s been visiting your flower shop he still hasn’t figured out your secret to knowing he’s the one walking through the door. He’s tried showing up on different days, at different times, in different weather patterns, and you still know it’s him. “One of these days you’ll have to tell me your secret.”

“Maybe someday,” you tease. “In the meantime, here’s your order. Make sure to give her my love while you’re out there.”

Lee nods his thanks and heads on out, pausing to turn back and ask, “are we still on for Tuesday night?”

“Yeah,” you smile. “Unless that storm we’re supposed to get gets worse. Then you’ll likely be on call.”

“Thank you, Darlin’” he tips his hat and heads out, flowers in hand. 

It’s been several years since Juanita, Lee’s wife and your best friend, passed on. You were both in a lot of pain at the loss and, after a year, ended up finding comfort in each other. Not a relationship, Lee couldn’t risk looking like he was moving on too quickly, lest he lose his next election. Friends with benefits and it worked for the two of you. 

You both became workaholics when Juanita was buried, burying yourselves in your jobs. It wasn’t healthy and it came to a head when Lee came in to buy flowers on what would’ve been their anniversary. You had told him he needed to take better care of himself and he threw that right back at you. Soon after you both agreed to start meeting up, as friends, just to make sure you each took some time off work. 

Your relationship grew from there but neither of you felt it was right to actually be dating. So you made arrangements, trysts, and other fun things but neither of you asked the other for more. Tuesday would be your next “not-a-date” and you were looking forward to it.

Business was painfully slow Tuesday but that didn’t surprise you. That storm was building and people were prepping for the worst. Lee had called and told you he was on call for the night and you reassured him you’d be home by the time the really bad winds hit.

Unfortunately you weren’t paying as much attention to the windows as you probably should, too busy making sure that your flowers would survive the likely loss of power. The next time you looked out the window it was hailing pellets the size of golf balls and you decided it was safest to just stay in the shop. You’d been through a few twisters by now and knew how to handle yourself but you still found yourself shaking and nervous as you plotted out the safest spots in the store. 

Your nerves got worse when the power cut out. The scream of the wind and the hail against the roof were the only sounds you could hear. You lit one of your emergency candles. It wasn’t much but there was something comforting about the little source of light and heat. You let yourself relax, watching that little flame, until some red and blue lights distracted you.

You heard the front door slam open followed by Lee shouting your name. You ran to the front of the shop and hugged him tight before yelling, “what the hell are you doing here, Lee?!”

“I could ask you the same thing, Y/N! You promised me you’d be home before this storm got rough. I tried callin' your home, which still has power by the way, and got no answer, so I ran out here hoping, praying you weren’t stuck in a ditch or worse!”

“I can look after myself and you shouldn’t worry about me like that,” you protest. 

Before Lee could yell back you both heard a loud boom as lightning struck a nearby tree. You pulled Lee away from the front door and windows as the tree started falling. Much to both of your dismay it landed on your cars. 

“Fuck,” he whispered. “That’s gonna be a lot of paperwork.”

“For both of us,” you agreed, grateful you were caught up on your insurance. “In the meantime, looks like we’re trapped together here. Come on back, it’s a bit safer there. You got your radio? Let the other officers know?”

“Yeah, yeah. You get on back and I’ll radio. But we’re not done talkin’ about you lyin’ to me!” Lee turns away and radios the station letting them know his car is done for, “happened while rescuing a citizen trapped in a store but now we’re both here. We’ll be alright but I’m out for most any calls.”

“Roger that, Sheriff” you hear as Lee walks to join you. 

“Now,” he says as he crosses his arms and glares, “you wanna tell me what the hell you’re doin’ puttin’ yourself in danger like this?” You’ve noticed over the years how his accent gets stronger the angrier he is. It’s cute when it’s not directed at you.

“I genuinely lost track of time, Lee. I swear it was a legitimate accident. But you didn’t have to come out and save me. I’ve been through these things before and know how to take care of myself.”

“You’d be better at takin’ care o’ yourself if you were at home. Why’d ya even bother openin’ the damn store today? Coulda saved me a heap of trouble and a car!”

“That’s on you,” you countered. “I didn’t ask you to come get me, so you do not get to hold that over my head. And the store was closed most of the day but I had to be here to make sure I’d still have a store to come back to. I got caught up in the preparation and lost track of the time. You know that happens to me.”

“Why the hell couldn’t you just stay home where I…” Lee falters. “Where I’d know you were with your neighbors, lookin’ out for each other?”

“What were you about to say?” Lee shakes his head but you press him further. “You were gonna say something else just now. What was it?”

Lee lets out an exasperated sigh. He knows you well enough to know he’s not getting out of this one. His tone is quiet as he admits “I was going to say, ‘stay home where I could keep you safe.’ It’s…it’s what I say every time I visit Juanita. I just…I don’t want to lose someone else because I couldn’t be there.”

Not knowing what to say you opt to wrap Lee in as big a hug as you can. He gives you a gentle hug back and you stay like that for a long time. Long enough to notice the wind dying down and the pounding of the hail soften to the patter of just rain. 

The hug finally breaks when Lee’s radio chimes in, specifically calling for him. He walks out the front to respond leaving you in the back room. All by yourself in the dark with just a candle. You take the time to clear your head and, by the time Lee walks back in, you’ve made your decision.

“Deputy is drivin’ out here to give us a lift,” Lee tells you. “We’ll drop you off at home and I’ll get back to work.”

“Sounds good, Sheriff.”

Lee freezes. You only call him Sheriff when there are other people around. “What’s goin' on, Y/N?”

“We should probably stop hooking up,” you admit, not meeting his eyes. “I know we agreed on no romance, dating or whatever but…this whole thing was supposed to be temporary anyways. A way to stave off the worst of the grief as we healed. But I don’t think it’s working. I’m the last person to tell you to move on but if you’re still blaming yourself, blaming her, for her death, you need something more than I can offer.”

Lee focuses his attention on the floor, even though it’s too dark to see anything. When he doesn’t respond you continue, “I’ll still happily be your friend, that sure as hell won’t change. But I’m not gonna keep up the rest. It’s been fun, don’t get me wrong, but I think it’s keeping us from healing like we should be.”

He continues to stare at the spot on the floor until you hear the deputy’s car horn. You walk out in silence and get in the back of the car while Lee and the Deputy discuss all the damage and ongoing situations. They drop you off in front of your home, Lee never once acknowledging you. 

Over the next week you and your neighbors set to picking up the pieces, helping each other out, finding missing pets and more. Happily there weren’t any fatalities. Lee was purposefully keeping his distance from you, sending other officers to areas he knew were helping. The rumor mill was buzzing, of course, but you made sure to not feed the fire. 

When you finally got back to your shop the power had come back and you started salvaging what flowers you could. There were phone calls to suppliers and insurance companies to be made and you settled in for a long day on the phone. 

The front door jingled around noon and, without looking up, you call out, “mornin’ Sheriff.”

Lee lets out an exasperated sigh, “one of these days, Y/N.”

You look at him and ask, “do you actually want to know or do you want to keep it a friendly mystery?”

“You know what, I do wanna know. How the hell do you always know it’s me?”

“You’re always wearing the cologne Juanita would buy for you. That stuff she had to order special from the catalogs. You would’ve run out of it by now but I’m guessing you keep buying it because it makes you think of her.”

He purses his lips and nods, “the smell makes me think of her. My complaints about the cost when she first bought it for me were tempered by her assurances it would help me stand out while campaigning. It just kinda became another thing we would laugh and kid about.”

Lee takes his hat off and walks towards you, “I do need to apologize for bein’ so short with you. I’ve had some time to think and, you’re right. I don’t know that I’ll ever heal from losin’ Juanita, but I need to try and I can’t do that if I’m treating you like I would her. If I keep seein’ her in your place. If I keep wishin’ it was her laying next to me instead of you.” The confession hurts but you take it in stride.

“I’d still love to have ya as a friend,” Lee looks at you sheepishly. “I ain’t been much of a friend but I’m hopeful you’ll let me work at being better at that.”

You give Lee a soft smile and walk towards him with open arms. He welcomes the embrace and you feel his shoulders relax. It takes a while but you finally break the hug, tears in your eyes but a smile on your face. You both needed this.

It’s been a couple years since the storm but you and Lee are still good friends. So much so that he considers it his duty to keep an eye on your new suitor, a war veteran who came home missing an arm. When you asked Lee why he was stalking your date he looked offended, “I’m the Sheriff and your friend. I have to make sure this new guy isn’t takin’ advantage of our town’s sweet florist.”

You’re working on paperwork when you hear the front door bell jingle. Without looking up you say, “welcome to the Bouquet Boutique! Let me know if you need help with anything.”

“So that’s what you tell your customers,” Lee says with a smile on his face. His smile grows when he sees your look of confusion. “I’m tryin’ to go without the cologne for a while. See how that works.”

“I’m proud of you,” you say as you give him a big hug. “I’ve got your order right here, Lee. Make sure to give Juanita my love.”

“Will do, Darlin’. Will do.”

[ashsmack]

Farewell, Toriyama

The year is 2012. Quite the eventful year, the London Olympics, Hurrican Sandy, Obama's re-election. None of which I cared about at the time though, I was just a midget 6 year old. What I did care about, though, was a box of magic one of my friends owned. To me, a source of endless wonder. To the rest of the world, a PS2.

Predictably enough, every time we visited his place, we would always be gaming, to the point that our parents would constantly be nagging us to go outside (some things never change), but the allure of these games kept me captivated. And yet, one game called to me like none other. I knew nothing about it, not the story, not the characters, nothing of the source material. This game was named 'DragonBall Budokai Tenkaichi 3' and little did I know, I was about to introduced to a universe which would go on to bring me unending joy for more than a decade to come.

Admittedly, discovering DB through one of the games isn't really recommended, probably one of the worst ways to get into it especially considering the spoilers and how confusing it gets. Despite all this, the scene where Goku faces off against Frieza, where he turns Super Saiyan for the first, gave me literal chills. I've watched this scene time and time again throughout the years and it has never once failed to fill me with awe. I ended up watching DB every day, after school for like the next 6 years. I watched the entirety of Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball Z Kai, Dragon Ball GT, and Dragon Ball Super, which I watched weekly until it ended around 2018. I've watched every DB movie till date, ending at DB Super Hero which I watched about October last year.

Having written all this out, it really does sound nuts. I started watching Dragon Ball at the itty bitty age of 6, and here I am today, writing this as I stand on the cusp of adulthood. 12 years DB has stayed with me. Like Goku (although without the weird Saiyan ageing), I've grown. I've made and lost friends. I've been stuck within my own shell, and I've broken free. I fought depression, and while depression fought back hard, here I am, at my best. Quite unlike any man, whether friend or family, DB has been there for me throughout. Whether it was entertainment I needed, or a distraction from my problems, there it was, as absurdly cringey and stupid as it sounds.

Over the years, DB has taught me many things. The immeasurable value of friendship for one. Another, is the way even proud Prince Vegeta redeemed himself, find himself married and now in fatherhood. The biggest lesson it taught me, however, was the power of determination. To never back down, to never just settle for what you think you're capable of, to always be working to surpass your limits. While ofcourse I never ended up with blonde hair, for me it helped me break out of my shell and start improving myself, something I will forever be thankful for.

While I don't claim to be the biggest DB superfan, the franchise holds an immeasurable, irreplaceable place in my heart.

As the news of Akira Toriyama's tragic passing reaches us today, I hope he knows that he has woven the fabric of countless childhoods, just like mine. His work and influence will never be forgotten, and his name will reside in all our hearts.

Rest in Peace, Akira Toriyama.

[magic-is-something-we-create]

Goddess-Touched Snippet - (6/?)

Word count: 640

Content warnings: First-person depiction of compulsions/behavioral tics; food mention; brash discussion of death/murder; implied drug use and excessive swearing.

POV: Nimbus

In which Nimbus struggles to adjust to the ways of the Lell.

Jett spins idly back and forth in their chair while they twist a toothpick between their fangs, eyes glued to the holoscreens thrown haphazardly across the wall as I find myself once again tapping the long-gone passcode to Beta’s workshop into the door of a cabinet before I open it. A brief glance inside yields none of the things I was hoping for--maple candies, jerky, dried fruits, anything to chew over and over--and my fingers, again, slip into the locking code when I close the door, and dance across the next in the same pattern.

Goddesses, why can’t I open anything without a reminder?

The legs of the stool beyond the nearest archway scrape against the floor as Beta returns from his venture into the foyer of the bunker, a pipe in hand. Somewhere beyond that, the door to the canyon hisses open for the twelfth time today, a gust of wind sending a pitter-patter of sand over the floor as Xiv shakes her helmet out and cusses just low enough for me to get the gist without understanding a word.

Nothing here, either. Tap again, swipe the invisible dismissal. Drum out the shape of a crow in flight, forget that there’s no knobs on the door, drum it again just to be sure. Open it, greet my own disappointment in the reflections of metal cans.

“Councillor Andor’s dead,” Jett tosses over their shoulder, still spinning, the toothpick abandoned on the desk before them.

Beta coughs. “That fuck was still on the Consul?”

“His kid,” Jett corrects, rubbing a knuckle into their gums from over their lips. “Got challenged, got cocky, got a hole in their head.”

“They find who did it?” I ask, finally reaping the reward of my impulse-led fingers in the form of a tree-gum candy from the first cabinet I searched and that I knew I hadn’t put the code into quite right.

“Hm?” Jett lets their chair’s momentum spin them around to face me as I finally tuck the little distraction between my teeth and as Xiv tracks red dust in on her shoes. “Find who?”

“The killer.”

Xiv snorts, blue-lensed goggles still obscuring her eyes as she shakes the dust out of her dual-toned hair. “Why? Andor lost. That’s that.”

My gaze drifts back to Jett, who’s also now looking at me like I’ve grown a second head or blurted an obviously wrong answer in front of the class or dared to entertain the thought of turning a rebel in for a bounty and suddenly I’m wondering what, exactly, has gone wrong. Where the disconnect happened, where the comma was misplaced in the code, where I switched the order of operations.

But Beta butts in, hand waving towards the other two with a dismissive laziness. “Senator Andor was challenged to a duel. If they didn’t agree, it’d be murder, but they did. They knew they could die, and some sort of honor made that worth it to them. Nothing to persecute in there.”

My mind stutters, blinking back to his story of adultery and vengeance. “But... didn’t you do the same thing and get banished?”

Jett cackles. “Fuck, no! Murder wouldn’t get ‘im banished, either, but he dug up the shit list for every goddamn senator on Gyr’s Consul and aired it across the city on hijacked speakers. We had to elect a whole new fuckin’ Consul from scratch after it hit the air, and their first action was gettin’ his ass as far away as possible so he couldn’t do it again. Kickin’ him out was easier ‘n keeping him locked up.”

“... Oh.”

Xiv smirks, and with a flourish of her floating prosthetic wrist, tosses her helmet onto the table behind me. “Told you. Ol’ Prick’s an off-flavor madman.”

“I still don’t know what that means.”

“Sucks to suck.”

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning!  I hope you slept well and feel rested?  Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day.  Welcome to the weekend!

Wow!  Here we are again: Friday!  Where did that week go?  No, seriously, where did that week go?

Yesterday, my first task of the day was sorting out my running order for The Letter W (Pt. 6).  It just didn’t look right.  I took tunes out, replaced them, shuffled things around.  Took me a while but I think I’ve got the balance just right.  A good spread of years and genres.  Hope you can join me tomorrow for ‘The A-Z Of Mi-Soul Music’.  No executive producer tomorrow, just me playing with myself.

Got a lovely message from one of my students, “Thanks for your time at PB and your feedback on the essay.  I did not have enough time to complete the post-module feedback, so I decided to send you an email instead, to show my appreciation and gratitude for your time and information, and the opportunity to have met you!”  Wow!  Makes it all worthwhile. 

Took the opportunity to walk in the park yesterday.  Such a lovely day!  The little ones weren’t in school, as it was election day, so the playground was full of happy kids, thrilled to be in the park on a Thursday.  The yummy mummies were out in force!  Distracted?  Moi?  The step count is ahead of last year’s average.  I’ll be out in the park again today, come rain or shine.  Looking this good takes effort! 

Looking forward to spinning tunes at The White Lion, Streatham TOMORROW.  Looking forward to broadcasting live from The Margate Soul Weekender on Saturday, August 3rd.  Looking forward to spinning tunes at ‘Let The Music Play’ at Cinnabar, Stevenage on Sunday, August 25th.  Looking forward to doing a set at UNDR, Ladbroke Grove on Sunday, September 8th.  And looking forward to the Soul4U weekender at The Aloft Hotel in Birmingham between September 13th-15th.    

Have a fabulous & funky Friday!  I love you all.  You’re probably thinking, “You don’t even know me!” but, if people can hate for no reason, why can’t I love?

[shinra-makonoid]

How do you deal with all this negativity? I know it's basically ever year you get an ask like this (maybe all the time from me) but it feels it gets worse and worse.

Netherlands election, Russias LGBT extremist declaration and most recent raids (and of course the Ukraine war which gets ignored because of another war and people and the media can only focus on one thing at a time), current UK trans guidelines, whatever the US is planning with this Project 2025 nonsense, which will probably be exported someday to us in Europe. Maybe that's a little too much, but it is not crazy to worry as a non-US-citizen what the world police is up to. Everything they do has an influence on the world... Poland has some good news but the rest seems to be shifting more right. I'm glad Germany has some time till the next election but I know the AFD (right wing) will get even more people on their side while at the same time the CDU (Christian central-right) acts more and more like the AFD to get the extreme voters which doesn't work. The only thing the CDU politicians are recycling are Desantis talking points on trans people.

And at the same time bashing the Green party and Social democrats party for the current situation of all with the wars and - ah yeah COVID? But at least that's over :)

Again like every time, sorry for the rant. I do not want to get you in a negative mindset and if these asks do that I will stop. Do these kind of asks bother you?

I don't know what other things to do because distraction and not watching news is impossible. The news come to you in the end.

First of all, those asks don't bother me at all! I think it's great you express yourself and it doesn't bum me out either. I'm not sure if my answers help though.

Yeah COVID is absolutely not over at all and I cringe every time someone is like "oh yeah but it's not an issue anymore uwu" my government is in denial about it and people complain they have to wear a mask in the hospital.

I guess I just... Don't really deal with it. What probably helps is that I also focus a lot on the upcoming year and it leaves not much to think about ~other things~ outside of my life. I protect myself, make sure I can do whatever I can to make my future the best possible, and that's it. It's a bit egocentric but I guess that protects me from being bummed out by things too much outside of my control. I have a plan and I'll do anything so it can go well, and that's all that matters. All my worries are mostly about being ill or dying before I ever leave Paris lmao there is no reason I'd fall terribly ill or die but that's pretty much what's inside my mind the most. So... Yeah pretty egocentric.

Dunnow if that could help, but if the news depress you and you can do without it, just shut off the news for a week or two. Personally I get to be a no-life for a week, eating chocolates and playing a game all day and that has been great. ™️ Who knows what happens outside of my room.

[stormwinddeliveries]

Day 3 5/15

Journal Entry: *Noodles hand writing is immaculate. Near calligraphy.*

Today was better than yesterday. Even if I felt the worst today than I did yesterday, somehow, surprisingly. Considering I did feel actually awful yesterday. Though I suppose that was more emotional than physical. This one, how I'm feeling right now, is certainly more physical than emotional. Which is why its both a better day and a...worse day? 

Morrigan is sick and really didn't sleep well last night. If she slept at all, really. Then with Jasper still recovering and my body not seeming to be kicking my own cold, or whatever it is, as much as I'd like it to? My body is just fatigued beyond its limit. Which is good I haven't been drinking because boy, would I feel so much worse and bogged down if I had been. I just wish the two felt better, and everything finally worked out for longer than a day or two at max. 

No one from the Faire showed up for the market tonight. Normally I would have peddled my bread and stuff but I was feeling too gods awful to even humor peddling my own wares. While I was saving the spot for the Faire however, someone I knew from Westfall showed up. I pulled a gun on him. He pulled a gun on me. We laughed. His lady got real weird and angry that he talked to me at all. Spinning this whole thing about some fucking jealous nonsense I don't understand. Granted I don't really get jealous women. Or women who try and gaslight their partners into doing shit through that kinda behavior. Toddler behavior, bad. 

The guy also offered me work since I mentioned I didn't have fifty-six gold to drop on a cloak like his woman did. But I declined the offer. Mostly from the look he gave but also knowing that nothing good comes out of Westfall unless its good brought by your own hand. So I feel rather proud of that for myself. Even if shortly after that I up and just left the market area cause his lady was almost thrown out and I was too tired to deal with her all out yelling. I hate when people cause issues in public thinking its charming or something. 

Then I think I full on fell asleep outside the Lamb on the wall. Couldn't tell you for how long I was out, but I certainly was gone to the world for a good little bit. When I woke up I went on a walk, and ran into Miss Alice along with some few other friends. She introduced me to one of hers AND I got to hold a slime pet...thing. Someone had! The slimes name was Jim and if anything happens to Jim I'm killing everyone and then myself. 

Around there I went to the clinic to get my throat and stuff looked at. The doctor person said they were pretty sure my tonsils are infected, and they gave me medicine to take. Saying I should be feeling better by tomorrow. Hope it isn't like that medicine that makes you poop cause it kills all your inner gut stuff. I fucking hate that medicine. 

After THAT, I went back to the group of friends. As they all trickled off to go to bed, my friend Flowers and I were the sole few that remained. Which means it lead to us kind of just...talking. We talked about a lot of surprisingly deep stuff. About his old work, elections, his role in society, our own experience with drinking. He gave me three sticks of chewing gum to entertain myself with! I don't think I'm going to chew them, but instead, keep them as anxiety mementos to hold in my pocket. Like how I use carrying around this journal as a way to distract my hands when I'm reading for something. It all couldn't come at a better time too, because, well. 

I normally don't make it longer than three days. This being the third lets me know that this sobriety thing is about to get way, way, way harder. I'm certain everyone thinks the hard part has started or something. But really my own threshold for time hasn't even begun. I don't know where I'd be if it weren't for Jasper, Morgie, my friends...I would have likely drank yesterday. Drank today. Might have even drank tomorrow for all I know.

Lynn

[fried-berries]

this is going to be a long post

as I mentioned, youtube did that thing where it offers to translate it into the language your device is in, but I don't quite agree with it so I translated it myself for my friend and music enjoyer @ratwalks:

another day I'm wondering if I'm making any progress the noise with which I struggle now slowly harmonizes should I see another day when I don't see the sprouts of my hope, that won't die? still, around people I'm amazed and confused¹ what am I supposed to do? in my brain there's smoke around company pure confusion I regurgitate² a few words but nothing sounds smooth or like the voices I hear peace interrupted, the train is passing³ that every day stunts⁴ me completely cuz I know that everyone hears it it's a small town, one hundred not-strangers⁵ so many days and so many people and I still don't recognize their temperaments secret codes - frequencies that my ears barely hear⁶ a palette of tones of which I've never heard⁷ how to use it or recognize it but with the darkness in front of my eyes I still brave trying to exist in their eyes so many attempts to understand to communicate myself; the day that I can I feel finally a little warmth on top of the skin that barely feels you so I live still for that day of which I speak to turn it into an everyday thing because maybe a little rhythm with all that hum will cut through the mismatch⁸ and clear my⁹ mind

¹ the machine translation (MT from here on out) renders this as "I wonder about people", which is technically true, but I think this conveys the sense better. the verb "čuditi se" means both to be amazed and confused, and since this won't fit the metre anyways I elected to put both meanings in there

² MT renders this as "throw up", but "ispovratiti" can also be understood as "to regurgitate", in the sense of regurgitating information you're force-fed at school especially and I wanted to keep that double meaning

³ "proš'o voz" (in this instance used in the present tense, "prolazi voz") is equivalent to "that ship has sailed"

⁴ MT has "distracts" here, but "ometati", to me, means something more than that. I would have put "bothers me", but that has a different connotation in English, and I'm struggling to explain the difference. to me, "ometati" has none of the internal-oriented connotations that "to bother" does

⁵ this may be because I have not lived in Serbia in a decade, but to me "acquaintance" doesn't translate "poznanik" quite right, especially in the context of a small town. in a small town, you're not just acquainted, everyone knows your parents and your siblings and your grandparents and how your great uncle died and about the feud you have with your neighbors over their fence choices and so on and so forth - at least the small towns my parents grew up

⁶ MT renders "these ears of mine can barely hear" but I elected not to use that, on account of the fact that Serbian's near-complete free word order means that the original sentence doesn't scan nearly as unusually as the MT does in English

⁷ MT's "I don't know about" is a perfectly acceptable way to translate this line, but it carries a double meaning that I don't discern as being present in the original so I altered it to be a bit harder to read as also meaning something like "I'm not sure about"

⁸ MT renders "discord" but to me that felt a little stronger, while in my experience "nesklad" can mean simply that something doesn't fit or doesn't agree

⁹ MT rendered this as "THE mind" (emphasis mine) but I think in context this refers to the speaker's mind specifically, and I think that is a distinction worth preserving, as it's more personal phrasing than what the MT has

-

I've translated a few other Serbian songs into English for my friends, but I've never really put them out into the world before. I also haven't lived in Serbia or a majority BCMS speaking country in over ten years, so if I mistranslated something or if you have OpinionsTM, please tell me!! just be nicey maybe?

but yeah I wanted to translate this song because I really liked it and I thought that was happening on the meta level was So Cool. using a vocaloid that's made to sing Japanese to make a song in Serbian is probably pretty hard, and the end result makes it really sound like she's struggling to communicate. I was glad for the lyrics in your comment and in the video, or I wouldn't have been able to follow along at some points with my auditory processing disorder, but I think the end result makes it all the sweeter? because I can still understand it, which speaks to the wonderful adaptivity of the human brain and the fact that having an accent doesn't mean you shouldn't use the language

as someone for who English is a second language, and who's autistic, the struggle with communication really hit me. awesome song op 👍

【hacune miku】 dan 【srpska vokaloid pesma】

[legoshi-plz]

Notice Me Part I

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Reader (eventually), Best Friend! Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader

Summary: College AU. Reader feels like she’s constantly overlooked/ ignored and she’s made her peace with that.

Warnings: Reader is coded as plus-size and non-Japanese (as a Black writer, I write with a Black reader in mind but the story can be read by anyone as skin and hair type are not mentioned at all.) Midoriya is Mixed (1/2, his father is Black) which isn’t a major plot point of the story but it’s mentioned like once. Also his hair is described as extremely curly + textured.

A/N: This is completely self indulgent. Please ignore if you don’t like or it offends you, this is literally just a lil treat for myself and the other black bnha girlies. Againf, it can be read by anyone though since technically anyone non-Japanese would be considered a foreigner.

//////////

“You know, maybe you’d get to class on time if you didn’t tear your closet apart every morning,” Shinsou hummed from your doorway.

“How did you get here?” You were currently hoping on one foot trying to put your shoes on while not tripping over the piles of clothes you’d scattered on the floor.

“Your suitemate left the front door open. Now come on, I’m not letting you make me late.... again,” Shinsou turned as if he would leave without you but you knew he wouldn’t. If he was that anxious to get there on time, he would have never made the trek to get you in the first place.

“Right behind ya,” you mumbled grabbing your backpack and heading out the door.

Walking to class every morning with Shinsou was both a blessing and a curse. You were grateful he came by because it held you accountable for actually getting to your 8a.m. lecture however going anywhere with a guy as popular as Shinsou on campus could be... tiring, to say the least.

You had known Shinsou since you were in middle school where the two of you formed a quick and firm bond over the fact that you were both effectively ostracized from the rest of your schoolmates; Shinsou for his abnormal quick and you for being a foreigner. In all the time throughout middle school, people basically ignored you two, leaving you both in your own little world. However things changed drastically at U.A., at least for Shinsou they did.

When he finally joined your side in the Hero course, him being in class B while you remained in class A, Shinsou’s popularity skyrocketed. You saw him less than ever before as he was always training to perfect that muscular physique or with one of his many many admirers. He was one of the biggest players on campus and that title followed him well into his university years.

“Good Morning, Toshiii,” a voice called across campus. Shinsou waved in the poor girl’s general direction but never stopped walking forward.

“You do the homework last night?” Shinsou asked, nudging your side.

“Yeah, didn’t you? We got that assignment weeks ago.”

“You could say I’ve been a little... distracted lately,” Shinsou’s smirk told you everything you needed to know. That distraction was none other than his bustling social life with the opposite sex.

“I’ll send you the assignment. Pdf or Doc?” You sighed. Shinsou might be a little underprepared but he was still your best friend and you weren’t going to punish him for having a successful dating life.

“Doc please,” Shinsou hit you with that ridiculous ear to ear grin of his for when he got his way, which was pretty much all the time.

Class went by normal as ever but you couldn’t take your eyes off of one certain oblivious block of ice that sat exactly two rows down, three seats away from you. You were embarrassed that you had even counted.

During your third year at U.A., you interned at Endeavor’s hero agency with none other than the Half and Half prodigy himself. With his usual counterparts electing to seek out different agencies, it was just you and him working alongside each other for weeks and weeks. It was then you got to know him and realized how genuine he actually was. And funny and even considerate, in his own awkward way. It was there you fell for him and you’d been infatuated ever since.

Only he never saw you in that way. He never seemed to see anyone in that way. You had tried ingratiating your way into his friend group and though they were nice enough, you could never actually feel comfortable with any of them except for Midoriya. Midoriya knew to an extent what it was like to feel ‘different’ and he always made a huge effort to make you feel included in the group. If he noticed you weren’t talking much, he’d engage you in conversation, ask you questions, really listen to your answer and overall try to ease any awkward silences. He was a godsend and you were eternally grateful for his efforts but eventually you got the message that Todoroki would never notice you in that way and just stopped trying so hard.

“Something interesting about the back of Todoroki’s head?” Shinsou sneered beside you. He was the number one advocate for you to stop wasting your time on a lost cause like Shouto Todoroki. As your best friend, he always told you the cold, honest truth, no matter how much it hurt sometimes.

“Can’t a girl dream?” You sigh gazing back at the subject of your affection. As if sensing your eyes in their direction, Midoriya looked back from his seat besides Todoroki and locked eyes with you, giving an awkward wave that made you want to sink into the floor. You waved back slightly before turning to wallow in your own cringe.

After class ended, you stayed behind a bit to send Shinsou a few missing homework assignments and notes. As the two of you were exiting the class, you passed by Ochako, Iida, and Midoriya who seemed to be having quite the heated conversation. You were content to follow Shinsou’s lead and just walk past them when suddenly you heard a chipper voice call out to you.

“Y/N! You have great timing, you’re just who we need!” Ochako practically bounced over to you, her cheeks as pink as ever.

“Are you busy this Saturday? You wanna hang out with us?” She asked, her eyes wide. You were never really that close to Ochako in high school as she was always wrapped in other things (mainly her boyfriend Iida) but you didn’t dislike her by any means, which made you feel bad for wanting to decline her invitation.

“Um, why uh, why me?”

“We need an even number! So can you make it? Pretty please?” She was doing that thing where she had all of her fingertips pressed to one another and you knew you couldn’t say no to those big brown eyes.

“S-sure,” You looked over to your best friend who was observing the whole scene before him with a look of utter boredom. “Shinsou, you should come with us.”

“They need an even number, remember?” Shinsou rolled his eyes, while walking off. The two of you usually get breakfast after class so you hurried off after him.

“Okay, I’ll see you guys Saturday. Just text me the details,” you waved, rushing off.

///////

AN: Introductory chapter honestly, but hopefully the next one won’t be so dry!

[prrism]

A Visit From…… Festival Aftermath

Relationships: platonic

Pronouns: unspecified/kept neutral

The trek over wasn’t too bad, you’d been at Pogtopia enough times before to know where you were going, but while you get your bearings a figure runs past before pausing to reveal a panicked looking Niki.

“Whoa! Niki, are you okay?” The question sounded so basic and by the look on her face you knew the answer was already a no, but it was the first thing you could think of saying.

“I’ve been… I’ve been better.” She puffs out, taking a second to catch her breath. The two of you converse over everything that happened at the festival trying to get a better grip of the situation. Niki explained how she had tried to step in after seeing Tubbo get shot but Schlatt had near ordered for her own execution, only for Wilbur to step in and distract everyone for her to make her getaway. “He told me to go to Pogtopia but I don’t really know where that is.” She concludes.

“That’s… wow, I… I have no words for that.” You stutter a bit still letting the information sink in. “But luckily for you, I do know where Pogtopia is, I was just headed there myself. Why don’t we walk together.” She gives you a nod and the both of you continue on your way. When you reach your destination you glide your hand along the dirt wall until you feel a patch that’s slightly off, instantly pulling out a shovel from your inventory to break away the blocks and letting Niki step in first. Once you’re both inside you reseal the entrance and make your way down, following the sounds of arguing… oh boy.

“You can literally fly!” Tommy’s enraged voice is the first one to come through coherently as you make your way down.

“It wasn’t raining, I can only ‘fly’ in rain Tommy.” Techno reasons. You and Niki finally join them proper, Wilbur and Tubbo being the first to notice your presence seeing as the other two were a little distracted.

“(Y/n) you decided to join us, and I see you helped Niki find her way here. Thank you for that, I had completely forgotten to give her directions.” He greets gleefully, as if there wasn’t an argument going on in the background.

“Yeah, so uhhh, what’s all this about?”

“Oh! Well Tommy’s absolutely livid at Techno for what happened, and I think they’re gonna fight, just look at how angry Tommy is!” The joyful tone in his voice felt a little unnerving to you, this is not the Wilbur you knew anymore and if you were honest it hadn’t been for a while. Ever since he lost that election it had been a downward spiral, you should’ve seen it coming and you did but didn’t want to believe it. All you could hope for now was there still being a chance to appeal to his better nature.

“We’ll what about (y/n), what’s their thoughts?” You’re brought back into conversation at the mention of your name.

“Sorry what?” You look around seeing all eyes on you.

“Techno murdered Tubbo in cold blood and all you did was watch!” Tommy fumes.

“Whoa, whoa! Okay slow down,” you raise your arms in a defensive manner. “Listen I tried to say something, intervene, but they threatened to kill me too if I tried. I wouldn’t have stood a chance.” You pause for a second.

“So you’re just fine with Tubbo getting murdered?!”

“Murder… is such a strong word…” Again you pause to think your next words through. “If I continued to try I would’ve been overpowered and executed too, okay. To put it into perspective, sometimes you have to sacrifice the life of one man to save a thousand others.” You conclude as calmly as possible hoping Tommy would understand.

“You see Tommy, even (y/n) gets it. They even have a good analogy too.” Techno says, this doesn’t help calm the teen down, if anything he seems even more riled up then before.

“I’m going to make a combat pit, you guys keep talking.” Wilbur then walks a short distance away and starts digging out a smallish pit. To distract yourself from all this infighting you walk over to Tubbo, unintentionally cringing at the sight of the bandages that covered half his body.

“You feeling okay?” You ask concerned, taking a seat next to him.

“Uhhh yeah yeah, I’m fine.” He brushes off casually, but you saw the wince he tried to hide. You reach into your inventory and pull out a potion of regeneration.

“Here.” You offer the potion to him, he stares at it for a long moment. “I made this one special, it’s a little stronger then regular regen potions, sure it can’t heal all the scaring you got, but it should help patch up some of it and should help ease any burning pain you still feel.” You explain, giving him a kind smile. Tubbo smiles back and takes the potion using it right away, letting out a soft sigh of relief as the effects start to kick in.

“Thank you.” You give him a gentle pat on his uninjured shoulder, the both of you getting up just as Wilbur finishes digging out the combat pit.

“Tubbo before we begin the fight just rile them up.” Wilbur urges. You move to stand off to the side with Niki while this all plays out, only vaguely paying attention to them while you ruminate over everything that’s happened and lead up to this point. How did it come to this? It’s a rhetorical question you’ve asked yourself constantly since even the first war of L’Manberg, sure you were filled in on all the know how by everyone on the server but that didn’t mean you knew every little detail. You shake your head with a sigh, all this thinking and overthinking is going to give you a headache.

You find yourself staring down into the pit watching Tommy and Techno duke it out, though it wasn’t surprising in the slightest when Techno came out as the victor. Moving without thinking you carefully climb into the pit and pull out a healing potion for him, he easily accepts it and you turn to the unconscious teen, throwing a splash potion on him and stepping back as he springs awake.

“The conflict has been resolved.” Techno says casually, sounding as if they’d just talked it out rather then fought. He gives you a hand in climbing back out of the pit and you turn to offer the same help to Tommy, only to get your hand swatted away. You sigh and let him climb out on his own.

“We’ll I’m satisfied with today!” Wilbur comes over and places an arm over your shoulder. You give him a side glance and he just gives an almost giddy smile, dragging you along with him. “Hey, jus-bombs are still there, as far as I can tell. I just gotta make a new button thing. Uh, Techno when I set it up next time, you ready to…” He trails off, not that he needed to finish his sentence.

“Oh Wilbur, I’ve got some ideas for destroying Manberg.”

“You two are very dead set on this, aren’t you.” You pipe in.

“Well aren’t you? I mean Schlatt wanted you dead of all people! And they would’ve done it, they would’ve killed you if he ordered it, you said yourself that’s why you didn’t step in.” As much as you hated to admit it, Wilbur was kinda right.

“People will do the dumbest things just to follow someone with authority.” You mumble.

“There you see! All the more reason to destroy it.”

“I don’t think-you know what never mind, not worth it.”

“Good, with that sorted out you can get started making some fire power for us!” Wilbur beams.

“I’m sorry, what?” You remove his arm that was still resting on your shoulder to fully turn and look at him.

“Your potions dummy. You literally pride yourself on making the best and most unique potions the server’s ever seen! We’re going to need that if we want to take down Manberg, I’ve even been working on a list of what we need and a few suggestions for some new specialty potions you could figure out making.” As if prepared for this Wilbur hands you a paper covered in scrawls of different names for potions. You look over the contents with wide eyes.

“Wilbur do you have any idea what you’re asking of me?! Making potions I already know is fine but to create something new from scratch, let alone several at a time, takes months! Sometimes years to complete!” You exclaim, already feeling slightly overwhelmed.

“It’s going to take months for us to prepare for war anyways, might as well use that time for something, right?” Wilbur brushes off as if it’s not a big deal. “Besides you’ve got all of us to give you a hand if need be, so that should help.” He sounded so convinced in this. After looking over everything again you let out a very long sigh.

“Fine, I’ll do what I can. Just don’t expect a miracle.” You cave, much to Wilbur’s delight. You start making your way back up, plotting what you’ll need for everything while Techno and Wilbur converse some more. Before you actually leave you hear more arguing from Tommy pausing by the exit to listen in.

“Tommy the thing is you’re using words… but the thing about this world, Tommy, is that the only universal language is violence. And we had that conversation, we’ve spoken that language in the pit. It’s over Tommy.” That hit you harder then you wanted it to and explained Techno’s attitude right after the pit fight. Things started out so peaceful but that was only the surface level of it all, there was fighting, always conflict somewhere. Even before you’d met everyone the villages you’d deal trades with had disputes with each other, fighting over things even if they were considered peaceful. Not to mention the constant struggle to keep away any hostile mobs. You exit Pogtopia with his words bouncing around in your head…

“Onto a new day, a new plot to destroy Manberg…”

[unfoundhoney]

mother, father, and everything else ↠

↠ platonic!c!tommyinnit x older sister!reader ; fluff , angst

↠ masterlist

↠ a companion piece to a sister’s sacrifice inspired by this tiktok

“Tommy, come on,” you call.

You pull your youngest brother’s attention away from the strings of the apron he got distracted by. He toddles over to you as quickly as he can, reaching up and asking to be picked up silently. He started walking early and go the hang of it quite quickly. However, in talking he’s a bit of a late bloomer, nearing fifteen months but yet to say his first words.

You lift Tommy up into your arms, carrying him out the back door and into the backyard. You set him down to play in the grass where you can keep an eye on him then walk over to the array of clotheslines strung up across the yard, beginning to hang up laundry.

Wilbur is off playing with Niki as usual. He’ll likely return covered in dirt and grass stains, maybe with a captured insect or stories of a new, made up kingdom he’d been ruler of that day. Phil is still out with Techno; they’ve been gone for a while now, but that’s nothing new.

You’ve hung up a pair of Wilbur’s pants and two of Tommy’s shirts when you notice Tommy crouched beside the basket full of wet clothes. He reaches inside and pulls out a sock, squeezing it curiously.

“Do you want to help, Tommy?”

Tommy looks up at you, blue eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He nods his head once.

You giggle and ruffle his hair, “Alright, c’mere.”

You lift Tommy up again, resting him on your hip as you grab a clothespin with your free hand. You slip it over the clothesline.

“Put the top of the sock in the pin,” you tell him.

He struggles a bit, little hands still uncoordinated at his young age. He does eventually position the sock where you can close the pin on it and leave it to hang.

“Wow, good job, buddy!” you say.

You wrap him in a hug and spin around, shrieking laughter falling from his mouth at both your actions and your praise. You set him down and kneel down to be at eye level with him.

“You’re my official laundry assistant,” you say seriously. “Can you hand me clothes to hang up?”

Tommy nods eagerly and toddles over to the basket of wet clothes, grabbing a shirt from the top of the pile. He holds it above his head as he runs back over to you, holding it out.

“Good job, Tommy! We’re quite the team, you and I.”

Together, you and Tommy slowly hang the rest of the clothes up. Tommy eventually gets bored and goes off to pick dandelions and pull off their petals, leaving you to finish the chore, not that you mind. When you’re finished, you call Tommy over to get in the basket, carrying him and the leftover clothespin back inside.

“Y/N!”

The call of your name pulls you to a stop, turning to see who yelled for you. Tommy grabs onto your pant leg for balance, stopping as well. You find Puffy waving at you, hurrying over to you with her little boy Dream at her side.

“Hi, Puffy,” you say. “Hi, Dream.”

“Hi,” Dream says in a small voice.

“Tommy, can you say hi?” you ask the young boy clinging to your hand.

He’s chewing on his thumbnail, looking up at Puffy warily before hiding his face in your leg.

“Guess not,” you laugh.

“How are you, Y/N? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Puffy says.

“I’m good,” you answer. “Just getting some dinner for tonight.”

“Still the household cook, I see.”

“And just about everything else.”

You laugh and Puffy joins you, but you can tell that wasn’t a joke that went over her head. It’s no joke that you are mother and father to your younger siblings, as well as everything else. Your dad is gone too often; Wilbur doesn’t even call your father “dad,” he calls him Phil.

“Where’s your dad?” Puffy asks.

You shrug, “Around.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

You hesitate for too long, distracted as you attempt to remember the last time Phil came home.

“That hardly matters,” you brush off, “He’s busy doing important stuff and I can look after Wilbur and Tommy myself anyway.”

The look of concern on Puffy’s face is not missed by you. You do, however, elect to ignore it.

Dream tugs on Puffy’s sleeve, “Mom.”

“Yeah, buddy?” Puffy asks, leaning down.

Dream points into the market, where you see Sapnap with his father and his friend George.

“Go say hi, but don’t wander too far,” Puffy tells Dream.

When she turns back to you, keeping one eye on her son, you say, “I’ve gotta head home. Need to make dinner and all that.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puffy says. “I’m here if you ever need help. Or someone to talk to. Or... anything really.”

“Thanks, Puffy.”

You don’t notice at your side, Tommy trying to form the word that Dream used that so quickly got his mother’s attention.

“Look after yourself, Y/N.”

“I am.” You always have.

With a wave, you turn and head back home, Tommy walking slowly beside you. The walk from the market to your house takes about fifteen minutes and you end up carrying Tommy for most of it to speed things up.

When you arrive home, you find Wilbur and Niki sat in the front yard playing a hand clapping game. They stop when they spot you, jumping up and running to come meet you as you walk up the front path.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Wilbur shouts your names repeatedly.

“Will! Will! Will!” you mimic.

“Can I spend the night at Niki’s?” Wilbur asks.

You like Niki. She’s sweet and a good influence for Wilbur.

“Uhm, as long as her parents are alright with it,” you say, doing your best to sound like a grown up despite only being sixteen.

“We’ve already talked to them,” Niki tells you.

“Alright, then,” you concede. “Behave while you’re there.”

“I will, Y/N!” Wilbur says, running off with Niki.

You watch them go for a few moments until you’re reminded of the toddler sitting on your hip. Tommy squirms around, wanting down. You set him on the ground and walk with him inside.

You set him up with some paper and crayons at the kitchen table. You sit across from him, watching as he carefully looks over his color options before choosing the red crayon.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, bud,” you muse.

You pet Tommy’s hair before you stand, moving to start on dinner. You season meat and chop potatoes, humming to yourself and keeping an eye on Tommy. Thankfully, your youngest brother isn’t a picky eater, which makes meals a lot easier than they could be, especially since he’s been in the solid foods stage for a while now.

The rest of the night is fairly quiet. You and Tommy eat dinner then you do the dishes while he waddles around the living room and plays with some of his toys. You can hear him experimenting with running, his footfalls surprisingly loud for such a small human. You hear him fall, as well, but without any crying then the return of his heavy footsteps, you don’t go to check on him.

You start composing your next shopping list and check the calendar for any upcoming events. There’s a festival next week that you’re meant to chaperone Wilbur and his friends at. Maybe you can team up with Puffy so Tommy can play with Tubbo, and Dream can join Wilbur. You’ll ask her tomorrow.

You hear Tommy enter the kitchen. He waddles over to where you sit at the table and crawls into your lap. He grabs your free hand and starts playing with your fingers as you continue writing down what you’ll need for your bigger grocery run in a few days.

“Mom.”

You freeze.

What?

“Mom.”

You look down at Tommy.

He looks up at you, “Mom.”

“N-No...,” you say weakly.

“Mom.”

“No, I’m not your mom.”

“Mom.”

“No...”

“Mom!” Tommy says happily. “Mom mom mom!”

“Okay, okay,” you say shakily, putting a hand gently over your little brother’s mouth to get him to stop. “Okay, good job.”

Your vision’s blurry. You want to cry. Your chest hurts. But right now, Tommy’s said his first word.

“Good job,” you repeat.

You pull Tommy into a hug and wipe at your eyes behind his back.

Tommy rests his little cheek on your shoulder, already tired but quickly drifting off to sleep in your warm embrace, “Mom...”

“Shhh,” you say, voice weak.

Tommy goes limp, asleep in your arms. As your tears begin to fall, you make sure not to let your sobs move you. How has this happened? Mom. No. You’re not a mother. Except you are. In every way that matters, you are Tommy’s mother. You’ve raised him ever since Phil brought him home that day.

You wish your family was normal. As normal as a family of four adopted children, a single father, and a non-biological uncle could be. You wish your dad was home more. You wish you didn’t have to be the only parental figure Tommy has ever known. It’s to the point he calls you mom. How could Phil let it get to this? How could he care so little?

You just want to have a normal family with parents who are adults and kids who are allowed to be children. You did not get to be a child, but Wilbur and Tommy will. You will always be there for them. You promise. You will give them what you had taken from you. Hatred for your father burns in your chest but it’s quickly snuffed out, doused by nostalgia that longs for a childhood you never had.