#sucks so bad ik

[m3vl0vesu]

𝑨 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 2

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<The rest of your journey home was a blur, all you know is that you will not be going school tomorrow. Even if that means lying to your parents.>

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Sadly you were too much of a pussy to do so…plus you had art today. 

You managed to escape the grasp of your little sister,how could such a little person be such a deep sleeper?

 You picked up the uniform that was scattered on the floor, digging up the obnoxious-coloured tie from under a pile of sweaters. There was no way you were going to make it through the school day, but for some reason you just could not be bothered to try lying. And you lied a lot.

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I mean it was Gotham, you were bound to see hear someone get shot. Especially since it was almost dark out.

 The weather was colder than usual, as you passed the same alleyway as last night you noticed the yellow and black tape through the corner of your eye. It surprised you, I mean you half-expected to pass by a dead body. But no, instead it looked like whoever got shot was important…

Why would someone important be in this part of Gotham? Your mind was full of thoughts throughout the drive, why couldn't your mind ever be empty? Once you reached the school halls it began. The weird tightening feeling in your stomach, the way your bag seemed to get a lot heavier, the way your throat felt dry. It happened every time you were alone here. Where the hell were your friends? Friends.

… Did they even like you? Were you being too clingy lately? Were your constant hugs and need for hand-holding too much for them? Were you too much for the-…

“Where ya been girlie?” You hear a familiar voice say as you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder. A few other smiling faces not too far behind,what if…they were fake smiles? What if they were just being nice… And what if your mind just shut the fuck up? . . . Everything seems to happen too quickly. Break and lunch seemed too short, and you barely spoke a word. Of course they were worried, you had barely smiled at all this whole week and now you were practically going mute. Everything was so tiring, the intimidating circles underneath your eyes proved it, but even when things got this bad you managed to smile through it. Now?

Now it was already the last period, Art. You loved Art. The beautifully coloured walls, the papers you organised just yesterday…yesterday. And Miss Williams You loved Miss Williams, she was genuinely a funny and caring person. You definitely didn’t see her as a mother figure. Definitely not obsessed with her, no.

Not at all. As soon as your friends hurried over to their lessons you feel a wave of annoyance wash over you. One thing you didn’t like about Art class is that you had to sit next to him. Damian Wayne. It also made you feel a bit guilty as to why, for no reason at all, you did not like that rich boy. Maybe it was jealousy? Yeah that’s probably it. “...why don’t you take a seat.” Miss Williams' voice once again had stopped you from staring. God you have such a bad staring problem don’t you? It was worse since he was also staring at you…well more like glaring. Maybe he doesn’t like you either, what a comforting thought. 

If there was one word you’d use to describe him is unbothered. Or maybe he was just stuck up and arrogant…or maybe that was just your general view of any rich boy. Especially the rich boy.

…

Shit. You were staring again weren’t you? It was obvious since he was looking back with a guarded expression. Your head snapped to your pretty much empty paper, you were supposed to be doing a sketch that represented how you felt. How did you feel? Bored? Sad? Your paper was empty, nothing but eraser shavings and pencil smudges. Empty…

“So like I’ve been saying…” Say? Speaking? Oh. Right, where were you?

Your amazing, lovely, sweet teacher (okay maybe you were a little bit obsessed) was talking about an art project. An art project you already knew about a month prior due to being a part of the art club. So you were very prepared for the words. 

“It has to be with the person you're sitting next to.” Words that would’ve sent you into a spiral if you hadn’t known already. You turn around to a brunette boy in the corner making an exaggerated sad face as he mouthed something you couldn’t make out. His antics made you laugh, usually, but right now even smiling was too hard.

God, you were disappointing weren’t you? A melody of complaints and groans fill up the room, even the boy next to you sighed. Ouch. But fair enough, it was clear you two did not have a liking towards one another. He was also one of the few other student from the Art club that knew of the project, so yeah the reaction kinda hurt. AND he rolled his eyes? Yeah. Definitely against this guy. With a scowl on your face, you turn back to your paper. Still empty. You don’t know how long you stare at it for since the bell had just rang and everyone was hurrying out. UnFortunatley for you, due to not completing the work you needed to stay behind for a bit.

The clothes on your back felt heavier than needed when you heard your name being called out. 

You would like to be one of those students that don’t care what their teachers say but you simply could not be.

 It’s too expensive of an attitude, one that went way past your budget. Lets hope that the tears don’t start to pour,  because being shouted at by her?  Pretty sure your heart would fail. It’d be even worse since Damian was here…well more like he was lingering out the door. 

His footsteps were always so quiet, like a ninja or something.

“You there?” 

…were you? 

You nod. “You know your paper’s empty right sweetheart?” her southern accent obvious in her words. You nod. “I could get you in trouble y’know that?” Your nails dig into your palm before your answer. Nod. A small silence followed before her expression softened and she sighed. “Get some rest, lovely. I’ll see ya next week?” That’s the thing, were you going to make it to next week? Your nails pressed harder into your flesh and you managed to open your mouth and make out one word. “Yeah…” and you hope your voice didn’t crack because all you could do at the moment was turn around and walk out. 

The mask you so desperately needed to stay was cracking by the second. It was so hard to speak -when she was being so nice- at all. To you it was clear that she was frustrated, you didn’t want to disappoint her. Please no. God no.

You were pathetic. Hopefully he couldn’t tell.

.

. Friday  3:09pm (third person)

. Damian stood there, hands in pockets as he looked at the girl. Something was obviously wrong, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. 

But this was also the same girl that would leave the room he was in, stare and give him weird looks. 

So to put it simply, he didn’t really care nor bothered to ask. His presence had always been so daunting to her, ever since he first joined. There was always something that put her off. The awkward tension had washed away any sentimental emotion she was feeling. There was a certain level of resentment she felt when looking at the difference in the uniforms. Even though they both wore the same school uniforms, he just looked more expensive, sleek and clean. His pants were probably tailored and not from fucking target. His shirt was made from a fabric that wasn’t see-through and it looked like he had a proper tie instead of a clip on one. It made her stomach twist and face burn with embarrassment. I mean the reason she wore  pants with the uniform instead of a skirt wasn’t just because of comfortability, it was because you’d have to buy a specific skirt that’d cost money. Money her parents didn’t have. So instead she opted for some simple black pants that she either thrifted or bought at target. She didn’t remember. Anyway, enough about the uniforms. She walked a few steps behind him, waving bye to her friends as she passed them in the hallway. .

. Friday  3:17 pm (second person)

. Your phone stared back at you, your mothers contact displayed. Damian was still just a few steps in front, waiting. A few minutes prior both of you decided to go to his place, there was no way he was stepping anywhere near yours. It was too dangerous of a place for a kid like him. And you were also pretty sure he’d get kidnapped, he was a Wayne afterall. But that meant calling your mother. The phone rang for a few seconds before you heard her tired voice. Tired.“Hi Mom…” you bit back the urge to call her mama as she responded with a low hum. “I have a school thing, do you think you can pick up the others?” You were already tense enough as is but the next few words made you want to throw up. “I’ll have your dad pick ‘em up sweetie. He’s back in Gotham.” … Maybe going to Wayne Manor isn’t such a bad idea. Before your mother could ask about this school thing you cut the call. Your arm fell limp at your side as you walked to where Damian was standing. 

Your heart beat ringed in your ears, she sounded so happy saying that. Snap. “…” Did this motherfucker just snap his fingers to get you attention? You looked towards his direction, only for him to be walking away. You followed him towards a car, a car that made you feel even smaller than you already did. This was going to be a long few weeks .

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At least you were away from home for a while.

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This was weird and awkward! So awkward. Neither of you liked each other, neither of you ever spoke to one another and now you were sitting in his dads fancy car. Could a car even be this size?

 As you felt the car stop and you could barely move. Sure you had seen Wayne manors in pictures, videos online and such-but to be this close? It looked surreal, to your. An extensive garden with multiple large animal-shaped bushes. Even from the car you can tell the level of detail and work that was put in building this timeless structure. You wish you could say it awed you but instead it just made you feel more insecure and dirty. It was even worse that Damian just got up and walked towards the entrance, no appreciation for such beautiful architecture. … Oh right. This was his home. A place he saw and lived in everyday..

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Each step you took you could feel the unease start to creep in, you held on to your bag tighter. Like it was going to help in this nerve-wracking situation.

The doors towered over you, the dark oak such a pretty contrast to the light stone. It ade your stomach twist as the inside revealed literal heaven. A large chandelier hung above what looked to be a…ballroom? It was a mix of modern and an old-money style, the bottom floor was very open. It felt empty and full at the same time, you squeezed the shoulder strap of your bag. You were right…you were out of place. It made you feel dirty and small. Damian just looked like he fit in? Now look at you, there was an obvious difference. And you hated it. Why did you have to do this? Why was the universe out to get you? The art project required you to get to know your partner. You were supposed to draw a portrait with the person your paired up with but it has to represent them, so, like, if your partner’s favourite colour was blue maybe you’d draw/paint the portrait using only blue. Get the gist? So obviously you were going to fail. .

.Friday 3:22 pm

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You sat at the stretched out table, something you thought only existed in movies and haunted mansions. And you were pretty sure a building that looked like how the Wayne manor did, it was going to be haunted. His sharp green eyes not moving from yours. Was this a staring contest? Cause you were pretty sure you were going to win if it was. “So…” You clear your throat, god you were going to throw up. “Do you like cookies?” Damian asked, his question throwing you off. “Uh…uhm…” Did you have to stutter in a moment like this? “Yeah?” “Okay.” He then called out for a man named ‘Pennyworth’, no way that was someone's name. As you looked up again an old lanky man appeared behind Damian, the same one that had driven the car. This was a very weird situation, asking someone to get cookies for you? An old person? Wasn’t that rude? Even if he was a servant…or do they call him a butler? .

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The cookies were awesome though, delicious, amazing-they were just really good. Now back to the nightmare of socialising. “Are…cookies your favourite?” You asked, spinning the pencil in your hand. He just shrugged. This was getting nowhere obviously but you might as well get your sketchbook out. The zipper was stuck for a second, adding to your embarrassment, before you opened your bag. .

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So far all you had was that he liked animals, and the colour black. This sucked. No more cookies you thought to yourself as you looked at the plate, a few beige crumbs left. It would be rude not to put it away right? Or would he just have ‘Pennyworth’ come collect it. “I can…I can put it away for you?” For some reason this caught him off guard. He narrowed his eyes and just shook his head “I will.” … Did you do something wrong? What was with his tone? Did he think you’d infect the plate or something? 

…

You close your eyes, deep breaths. Just like yesterday…you could still remember the way your heart dropped and ear rang. The way the sound echoed through your ears, the sound of the body. Thump. Thump. It was so clear you could practically hear it in front of you- …you opened your eyes. It was a cat. .

.(guys this sucks so bad, I’m sorry i’m so lazy)

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Damian stood there, in the kitchen holding the plate with a blank but proud expression. “I think I did well.” “Yes Master Damian. Your hospitality skills are improving” Alfred answered, not any true emotion behind the words. .

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“His name is Alfred.” You nodded, the cat now sitting by your legs. You added animal lover to the list. But other than that this was going nowhere. All he knew about you was that you liked the colour green. . .(I’m sorry if you don’t like the colour green :( ) . Now this was the most embarrassing thing ever. Why would they try to drive you home? Were they trying to embarrass you? Trying to get their cars damaged?

 “No-it’s alright! Really, I can just take the bus” “Nonsense-” “No! It’s fine…I don’t wanna be a problem.” You didn’t like cutting the old man off but honestly? There was no way, these people wouldn’t survive anywhere near such an area… If only you knew.

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A/N: So fucking sorry this sucks. It’s kind of rushed and ugh. Schools sucked any whimsy out of me and I’m so de-motivated, I promise it will get better. Lore WILL be revealed I pinky promise. Just give me time I always try to keep Reader as ambiguous as possible, this is a F!reader fic but you can read no matter what gender! :D

taglist

@pix-stuff @kitsuneton @hoforfictionalmen-andwomen @itwaszzmoon

[alicornze7]

Silly guys goin' on silly adventures:]

@rorydrawsandwrites's puppeteer au but the only difference is that jax gives consent

My contribution to this wonderful au has been long overdue:')

Rambling in tags ehe (cw: ribbun:p)

Well maybe it's not the only difference

[pogzhellopart]

Hello EriKar nation

[lilliemadoka]

catch u on the flipside 😘✨

(cleaned up sketch under the cut because i kinda liked it a lot. please ignore the shoes i couldn't be bothered to fix them. it's all sketchy and weird just PLEASE b nice 2 me...)

[movermort]

[usercelestial]

i fucking hate commentary youtubers. imagine describing a situation about a 25 y/o knowingly sleeping with an underage girl as 'cringe' like. get a fucking grip.

[myfairkatiecat]

Okay I’m going to say it, some of y’all treat the KOTLC tag like it’s a tumblr community instead of an organization system that gathers together everything people post and tag as KOTLC

[darnellthefirestarter]

Hair

[lemongogo]

more

[tallymali]

i have such a morbid fascination with those weird reddit dudes who rate their attraction to a woman by working out the ratios and proportions of her features. i want to know if it has ever occurred to them that this is not how other people experience attraction

[palamidezh]

how it started

(all from august-september 2021)

vs how it's going

(from earlier today/two days ago)

[sashketter]

I miss Echo as much as everyone else, but his time off-screen is clearly where he’s meant to be, where he fits and is needed. His ARC training, those stealth moves, his scomp link interface make him an asset more valuable to the Clone Underground where the regs are operating at a severe disadvantage than to the Bad Batch who were literally born with enhanced capabilities. I’m not saying Echo is unnecessary to the Batch, I’m saying he’s a whole Bad Batch unto himself. He may not be as strong as Wrecker or as skilled a tracker as Hunter, but now I understand why Rex, despite his absolute need for more soldiers with expertise, hasn’t called on the Batch more often: Echo is enough 🫡

[why-the-heck-not]

ugh gonna have to start a new sourdough starter; this one has a bit of mold in the sides of the jar (not on the starter itself) and ik some ppl on the internet say u could just take some of it out to a new jar and keep going, I think the safest bet is to just start over. It's only a month old, and better to go back a month than to always wonder if I'm lowkey poisoning myself every time I make bread (and wouldn't feel comfortable abt sharing that bread/starter with other ppl bc one thing to poison urself, but others?? that's a big no).

[moomeecore]

head in my hands. im so bored of people's takes. yes im super happy that people where able to enjoy it but it is NOT poor literary skills to be unsatisfied with simon & betty's ending. it's not bad because they broke up, it's bad because it SUCKED.

[skitskatdacat63]

I hate humidity so fucking much

[jabeur]

okay like the thing is that suicide jokes and such are probably not that bad or that big of a deal if you're not really suicidal but if you're For Real suicidal or have been before and are not doing well mentally and you keep making them and start finding comfort in the thought you could kill yourself if you wanted to. be careful