#the older one's easier bc he wants nothing to do w his dad but the younger is stuck between two parents who are giving him different | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

uncouth-the-fifth · 4 years ago

Note

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

#damian wayne smut #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader smut #damian wayne x you #robin smut #robin #dc smut #dc comics #dc #user uncouth

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mymarifae · 3 years ago

Note

i’m obsessed w giselle rn like i love how all berdly enjoyers have wildly different family hcs but we all collectively agreed that his relationship w them is Not Great (also on a more personal note i enjoy the strong motherly force bc my own family hcs involve berdlys mom being way more important and influential to her son than the dad BUT ANYWAY). but also OGH you capture the queen vibes so fuckjng well she is so good. love giselle. girlboss. but also now i’m thinking abt her forgetfulness and how that ties into how berdly fixates and values such inconsequential things. like the spelling bee!!! he was probably like ten or something when that happened, but it’s one of those things giselle Remembers so she always brings it back up. like “oh you’re doing good in english? of course you are! you won that spelling bee didn’t you?” and berdly is like “yes now i will make that my entire personality”. i also resonate w the hardworking single mom vibe SO MUCH and the awkward fucking drive home when you have Nothing to say to each other. god. berdly needs support but he knows he can’t rlly get it from his mom bc she’s So Busy so he just closes in. and by the time giselle realizes her son doesn’t tell her anything anymore it’s already too late and berdly is entirely self-sufficient and bottled up and OHHHHHHHHHH i love him so much. little guy. anyways great content hcndbvmfnfjc sorry for the rant

NO NO DON'T APOLOGIZE we love ranting in this house. this was a delight to read !! you really got what i was going for with giselle's character and that makes me happy. it's nice knowing that my full intent came through even though i didn't necessarily explain everything. like you're right on the nose with the spelling bee thing, wow??

he really does need support, and giselle recognizes this and she is trying to reach out, but the issue is she was so busy for so long that she didn't notice how much he needed her until he had already learned to close himself off. she can't figure out how to connect with him right now. results in many painfully awkward car rides (because at home he expertly avoids staying in the same room as her for more than 2 seconds)

when he was a baby she doted on him. he needed her. all the time. so of course she gave him that undivided attention, while distantly stressing about workmoneythebills-how-am-i-supposed-to-juggle-this-and-be-a-mother. and as he started to get older and could y'know like, fend for himself a bit more, she was relieved and started to withdraw, to give work more attention, so she could provide for anything he may need or just want

obviously this isn't how you do it. and berdly's never going to remember the days when giselle would kiss his cheeks and cradle him and read him bedtime stories every night. and even if he could, what good is it if that's not being expressed to him anymore? what he remembers, what matters to him, is the "in a minute, dear", the "not now i need to finish this", the "i won't be home tonight. there's leftovers in the fridge."

but i hate to leave things in such a miserable state... i didn't do this on purpose but i realized their current relationship reminded me of the relationship i had with my own mom when i was in high school so on this note.. why not let giselle and berdly reconcile the way we did . it's not perfect. a lot of the damage is irreparable, and they might not ever be particularly close, but they can come to a mutual understanding and rebuild. berdly can choose to forgive her

'course, sometimes it takes the worst case scenario for this kind of progress to be made (excerpt from the script of the comic i'm drafting [prettied up and made easier to read])

#equivalent exchange: you give me a rant and i rant right back at you ^^#IM GLAD YOU LIKE MY GIRL i like her too <3 #ALSO OBVIOUSLY!!!!she and berdly can reconcile in the pacifist route too. im just focusing on the neutral route for this because.#idk what the 'worst case scenario' that gets them to Talk would be in the pacifist route. also i already wrote this script in a dream #so i didn't even have to like. think about it #and as far as the snowgrave route goes ummmmmmmmm im not acknowledging it 😊#mailbox #giselle

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maybankiara · 4 years ago

Text

TELL ME, IS IT WORTH IT?

pairing: JJ Maybank x Pope Heyward

summary: Pope proposes, JJ panics, and now he’s trying to explain why he said no (and why he shouldn’t have done it.)

w/c: 3.7k

a/n: angst with a happy ending, ignore all the typos bc this is entirely unedited (i might edit in the future)

masterlist | tag list

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It’s really unfair that when someone’s life falls apart, the world itself doesn’t. JJ thinks it should. It should be raining knives, hailing bullets, volcanoes should be exploding and the ground shaking shouldn’t be just his personal experience of reality.

But it’s not even a moderately hot day. It’s breezy, it’s perfect, and it’s one of the nicest days of the fucking whole year.

JJ hates it.

The Chateau has only got John B and Kiara under its roof when he barges in, teeth gripping on the cap of a beer bottle. ‘Don’t ask,’ he states, then drops in the empty space between the two on the couch. His legs find their home on the coffee table and he nearly downs the bottle. Burps. Sighs, dramatically.

He knows they’re exchanging glances, but he chooses to ignore it.

Kie’s consoling hand lands on his shoulder. ‘What ha—’

‘Pope asked me to marry him,’ he says, ‘and I said no. And I also said I think it’s never going to happen.’

John B should’ve made a dumb comment. Kie should’ve made a sarcastic remark. But they didn’t, and they won’t, because JJ feels the gravity of the situation weighting down his lungs. (It feels like being torn up inside out, like his heart is chewing on itself out of anger, or sadness, or betrayal. It feels like the moment when your heart skips a beat and you think this is it, this is how I die, except you don’t; except you’re stuck in that moment forever.)

JJ burps. It chips at the silence, but it doesn’t break it. Kie’s hand on his shoulder is frozen and the distance between him and John B seems like an ocean.

‘Yeah,’ says JJ. ‘I don’t think that was what he expected.’

A sigh comes from Kie, but he doesn’t look. ‘When was this?’

‘About twenty minutes ago. I drove straight here.’

‘Drunk?’ asks John B.

‘Does it matter? I’m here now. Safe and sound.’ He lets out a dry chuckle before he can stop himself, and shakes his head. ‘Physically, anyway.’

‘You’re not drunk,’ says Kie. It sounds a little like a scoff, so JJ looks at her, but he can’t figure out what her face is saying. Tight lips scream anger, but her eyes are soft as ever, maybe a little concerned. She glances between him and John B with one of her eyebrows slightly raised. ‘He’s a heartbroken idiot, but not drunk.’

‘Ah. Understandable. Should I—’

‘You know what being a heartbroken idiot means.’ Kie pushes herself off the couch and when JJ glances at his other friend, John B’s just as confused as he is. ‘I know a thing or two about getting your heart broken for a dumb reason. You two sort that out, and I’ll make sure Pope’s okay. Let me know when you’ve knocked some sense into him.’

Before either of the boys manage to comprehend her words, she’s out the door. The Kie-shaped void on JJ’s left side feels a little odd, so he pushes himself into that side of the couch. The beer is bitter at the back of his throat; he wishes some music would be playing.

John B calls his name, so JJ looks at him. He’s giving him the puppy eyes, trying to get him to talk, and it’s because neither of them really know how to start. (Their affection is physical, not verbal. Kie’s the one who’s good at that. Pope is—)

‘Did you panic?’ asks John B.

JJ shakes his head. ‘Don’t think so. Not until after I’ve said it, anyway.’

‘So what happened?’

There’s a pause, JJ feels his brow furrow, and then: ‘I don’t know.’

‘…you don’t know?’

‘No.’

‘So you panicked.’

‘No, I didn’t, it’s—’ With a sigh, JJ accepts the momentary defeat. He glances over and sees John B’s signature stare full of indecipherable intent, but nothing less than pure kindness. They’ve had their bumps, but they always came out on top. It’s the pogue way. Even if John B wears that stupid bandanna around his neck well into his married life of his late twenties. ‘I knew the answer was no.’

It’s John B’s turn to frown. ‘You’ve thought about it?’

‘No, I just knew. Like you know the ocean is salty.’

‘You know that because you’ve tasted it before,’ counters John B. ‘I doubt you’ve been proposed to before.’

‘I could’ve been!’

All John B offers is a long stare yet that is enough. He’s older by only a few months, but he’s also married and didn’t say no to the proposal (granted, it was him proposing to Sarah, but still) and kind of has got his life together. He’s still JJ’s dumb older brother, but he knows something JJ doesn’t.

‘How did you know you wanted to marry Sarah?’

‘Are you reconsidering your answer?’

‘No, I just—’ JJ sighs again and tries to wish another bottle into appearing in his hand. Doesn’t work. Probably for the better. He just leans his head back on the couch and stares at the ceiling, connecting the dots in his mind. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing. I just want you to tell me how you knew.’

He hears shuffling, and then feels John B’s feet in his lap. (He’s not going to comment on the boat shoes. There’s been enough deflecting. He’s got to listen, because Pope is threatening to burst into the forefront of his mind any second now.)

John B gives out the deep, heavy sigh that only comes with a slight aah whenever he’s about to tell a story. ‘When we were young, she made everything come alive. Everything looked brighter and clearer, and it was like I could finally breathe with the entirety of my lungs.’

JJ closes his eyes, trying not to gag. ‘Bro. I’m not listening to that.’

‘But that’s how I knew!’ He could just hear the grouch in his friend’s voice and now he’s threading the fine line between laughing and gagging. ‘Seriously, JJ, you asked. I don’t— I don’t know what to say. I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough.’

‘I am.’

‘No, you’re not. You’re deflecting.’

‘Big word.’

‘See?’ John B scrunches his nose, shaking his head. His thumb and index finger grip the bridge of his nose. ‘I know you’re confused. And scared. I know you panicked when Pope asked, but I don’t think you understand how horrible is the thing you’ve done.’

‘It’s not like I broke his heart,’ scoffs JJ, but the words are flat and his heart skips another beat. He doesn’t need to look at John B to knows he’s got his head in his hands. ‘C’mon, it’s Pope. He’s tougher than he looks.’

‘Yes, but he proposed, JJ. He asked to spend the rest of his life with you and you said no!’

‘I didn’t say no to that!’ JJ flings himself off the couch and now he’s pacing around the living room of the Chateau, marching circles around the coffee table. His forehead is pulsating; he’s probably having a heart attack. That’d explain a lot. ‘I said no to getting married.’

‘That’s the same thing.’

‘It isn’t.’

‘It is.’

‘It really isn’t, John B,’ he spits out. Christ, he’s getting hot. Is that his blood boiling? ‘Marriage is… It’s taxes. It’s prenups. It’s joint bank accounts, it’s added tension, it’s fucked up. Half of the marriages don’t even last.’

(Pope’s always talked about getting married. When gay marriage was legalised, before they were together, before they were out of the closet, even then he was openly delighted about it. He’s been talking about the two of them getting married for a while now, or at least hinting at it.

He should’ve expected it. It didn’t come out of the blue. He saw the signs, just ignored them, because… because…)

‘If you’re scared marriage is going to ruin your relationship, JJ, I’ll have you know you’ve already done that yourself.’

This is about the point where everything just… It comes crashing down. The world does end the way JJ wanted it to.

He feels himself growing very, very still, like when he was younger and his father raised a hand. He feels his breath halting in his throat and ears tuning out all sound, repeating John B’s words over and over until the echo became the echo of itself. He could feel the ground opening beneath him despite not moving an inch.

When gravity drags you down to earth, your rose-tinted glasses shatter like porcelain.

He sees Pope’s face of shock, then laughter, then embarrassment and betrayal at once, once he’s realised JJ isn’t joking. He sees him get up from his knees, hands shaking as JJ fumbles over his words, unable to find an explanation or an excuse. He feels cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, blood turning to ice in his hands. He sees his mum leaving, his dad’s hand raised; he sees people arguing and JJ wants to cover his ears. He sees himself, alone, alone, alone.

And he sees Pope turning his back to him. Quietly. He doesn’t even argue back. Just takes the no and i’m sorry, i can’t do this, it’s never going to happen, not like this and doesn’t say a word. Just walks away.

It’d be easier if he screamed at JJ. At least he’d know how to deal with that.

Pope’s heartbreak is the quiet kind, the one that doesn’t ask for attention, just the opposite. Usually JJ’s there to hold his hand, to sit by his side until Pope’s ready to talk about it, or be somewhere around, far enough so that Pope deals with things himself, but close enough so that he’s there if he’s needed. He’s never been the reason for the quiet.

Fire replaces the ice. JJ feels like the sun itself is tearing him open.

‘Shit,’ he says. ‘Fuck.’ Then raises his eyes until he meets John B’s, blurry and barely visible. ‘I fucked up.’

He doesn’t realise he’s shaking until his knees buckle under his weight and he stumbles to find his footing. John B shoots from the couch and pulls him into a hug, wrapping his arms around him so tight JJ couldn’t have escaped if he wanted to. He didn’t. He wanted to be held, even if by a friend.

He doesn’t sob because the sob gets caught in his throat, too, but he lets out a cough that says all the same. ‘It would’ve been easier if you yelled at me.’

‘I know.’ John B pats his back, letting JJ rest his weight unto him. ‘Pope will understand. That’s why Kie went to talk to him. As long as you realise you’re hurting everyone by being an idiot, you can make it better.’

‘I thought—’ He stops, because his words get fumbled again, and now he’s pressing his eyes into his friend’s shoulder like he’s all he’s got. ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone again.’

‘You’re not going to, okay? Just… Marriage is not all taxes, and you gotta understand that. It’s about knowing that if they get hurt, you’ll be allowed to see them. That you can get a house together, that you can look after each other if something goes wrong. That what you have is there to stay. Think of it as a promise.’

JJ snorts, but he doesn’t let go. ‘I don’t do well with people promising things to me.’

‘Then promise it to yourself,’ counters John B. The way he puts it makes it sound it’s as easy as breathing – JJ wishes he could feel the same. ‘Promise to stay with him. Promise to be around if something bad happens, but if something good happens, too. That’s what marriage is.’

‘I already promised that,’ he says. ‘His future and mine are the same.’

‘Then what’s the problem? Marriage is just making it legal. Making it formal. When what you have is honest and true, it doesn’t change anything. It just makes things better.’

JJ pulls out, feeling confident he can stand on his own two feet. He still feels a little lightheaded, but the thought of Pope possibly thinking that spending the rest of their lives together is the last thing JJ would want… That is the last thing JJ would want. Pope hurting because of him.

JJ can’t afford to be scared anymore; living a life half-way ready to run is not living.

He checks his phone; it must’ve chimed at some point because there’s texts from Kie, telling him where she is with Pope. His heart skips another beat, and at this point he thinks he could have enough heartbeats for a whole new person just from the ones he missed.

He’s not dying today. He’s not dying before he gets to live the future he’s almost ripped out of his own hands.

When he looks up at John B, he feels the hint of a weary smile on his lips. ‘I think I’ve got a promise to make.’

—

It shouldn’t be a surprise JJ finds them at the Boneyard, yet it’s still quite odd to see the scenario he’s seen a million times – Kie sitting next to the sea with her feet dipped into water as her fingers splash at the waves just about reaching her, and Pope… Pope sitting on the half-dunked log that’s been here forever, with his feet bare but not quite touching the water. His head is hung low and JJ can see the strain in his shoulders even from halfway across the beach; the cap is sitting on his lap, unused, despite the sun high above their heads.

The sight tugs at his heart and he falters in his step, but John B’s firm hand on his back encourages him forward. JJ gives a slight nod; he’s not giving up on the courage.

It’s Pope who notices them first and he stiffens even more; JJ sees Kie pat his knee before turning around and waving at them, then saying something to Pope. JJ wishes the wind would carry her words to him – is it encouragement or telling Pope he’s better off without someone who panics and refuses the one thing they’ve always longed for?

‘Don’t.’ John B pats him on the back. ‘I see you doing your dumb thought thing.’

JJ opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it was that he meant to say, it’s gone forever. All he can do is try and keep his shoulders from slumping and hands from forming fists; he can’t allow himself to be angry at the world, or himself.

The sand creaks underneath his feet. He hates it in this moment, because it makes him aware of every step he’s got to take to get to Pope, and the steps drag into eternity.

Pope locks their eyes. JJ tries figuring him out, but he’s too far, and Pope’s too guarded.

(Not against me, Pope. Please. Not against me.)

When they get there, JJ feels like fainting, but he sets his foot firmly on the ground. He’s not escaping.

‘Hey,’ greets Kie, and John B returns the greeting. The feuded lovers stay silent, just taking each other in.

(JJ always wished he could paint. The lines of Pope’s face are shaped as if they were meant to withstand centuries instead of being washed away with age. He wishes he could offer to Pope more than just… himself.

He’s talked about this with Pope before, though. Feeling inferior to his boyfriend was always going to be JJ’s Achilles’ heel, yet he didn’t think it would come to this. He made another promise, ages ago – to try to see himself the way Pope sees him. The way other people see him.

To believe in himself the way he believes in other people, for once.)

The silence is heavy, but JJ forces himself to not see it that way. Instead, he looks over to Kie, to John B, and says: ‘Can you guys give us a second?’

There’s nods and then they’re off, with nothing between the couple aside from waves crashing into the shore. Pope’s head is hung and shoulders slumped, and he’s sitting on this log with one foot pulled up and resting on it, the other hanging in the water now. JJ’s fingers ache to reach across for his, but he tells himself it’s not the time.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘Marriage scares me. I don’t know one that worked out, aside from John B and Sarah. I was raised to be on my own. Marriage means not being alone and that scared me, until I realised that… I haven’t been alone for a while now. The pogues, you… Nobody’s going anywhere. And if marriage is just a way to promise to you that I’m not going anywhere, either, and if it means so much to you, then I say let’s do it. I got scared, but never for a second did a life without you cross my mind. It’s — That’s my nightmare, Pope. Your future and mine are the same. Where you go, I follow. That’s the way things are.’

For a long time, it was JJ trying to come to terms with loving Pope – then it was Pope coming to terms with loving JJ. They’ve always loved each other, in a way, without quite saying it. It has never been the kind of love that is shouted from the rooftops – it’s the helping hand, the whispers of i got this, or you’re not alone in this, or i wish you could see yourself the way i see you. It’s the kind of love that’s etched into the air around them, existing as a part of themselves rather than something external. They’ve grown into it, shaped their lives around it.

It’s always been the beach for them. Their first kiss when they were seventeen, their first fight, their first promise to stick together through thick and thin. Every time something happened, something that mattered, etched itself into the back of JJ’s mind like the sound of his mother’s voice, it was always accompanied by the sound of waves on the shore; by the wind howling over the bay. It was always people chatting in the distance, or some music playing from a half-working speaker. It was always them, in the midst of other people’s lives.

Pope proposed in their flat.

When JJ drops to his knees, he doesn’t do his dumb thought thing. He doesn’t even think about it – for once, his gut isn’t telling him to run, but stay. ‘Pope Heyward.’

‘JJ—’

‘Can you let me do this?’ asks JJ. He laughs a little, shakes his head, and tries not to think about how ridiculous this looks. ‘I know I already had a monologue, but I don’t think I got my point across.’

Pope shakes his head, too; he isn’t smiling, but his eyes aren’t as strained anymore. ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to—’

‘I want to. I want this, okay? I want you to hear it.’

He can see Pope’s Adam’s apple bob, and he can see his shoulders slump in a relaxed way. The lines around his eyes soften and his lips nearly turn upwards, just a little bit. A little twitch is enough to shoot electricity to JJ’s heart.

‘Pope, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life saying it to you. You’re my best friend, my boyfriend, and my fiancee, if you’ll have me after the shit I pulled today. Husband, then. Father of your children, because I know it’s what you’ve always wanted, and I want it, too. Whatever you’ll be, I’ll be by your side. It’s all I want. No matter what our status is, we’re always Pope and JJ. We’re always just us. And I really haven’t thought out what I’d say next because—’

Pope’s lips crash into JJ’s, his hands grasping at JJ’s face, and world pulls itself together again. When they part their foreheads lean against one another, and he can feel Pope’s breath on his lips, and he feels his hands burning on the small of Pope’s back, and he can breathe and breathe and breathe like his lungs have never worked properly before.

(He understands John B now. Not like he’d ever admit it to him.)

He lets out a chuckle, and then he’s kissing Pope again – a small, chaste kiss, just to feel the softness of the touch. His fingers grip the back of Pope’s flannel and he’s laughing into the kiss.

‘You’re an idiot,’ says Pope. ‘I should break up with you.’

‘Can’t. I’m too irresistible.’

‘Shut up. You’re cheesy. That entire speech would put John B to shame.’

JJ shakes his head again and then his thumb is tracing the line of Pope’s jaw, eyes transfixed by his lips. He almost lost this. He almost gave up everything out of fear after promising to never doing it again. (He’s making a vow, this time. It holds more weight.) ‘You loved that speech.’

Pope rolls his eyes, in the way that tells JJ he’s right. ‘Kie told me you were freaking out at the Chateau.’

‘I was,’ admits JJ. What’s the point of holding back the truth? ‘I was freaked out of my mind. I thought I’d ruined everything.’

‘You forget how well I know you, JJ. I was hurt, but I knew you would come back. Old you would run, but Kie came and said you’re at the Chateau, and you wouldn’t have gone there if you meant to run.’

‘I couldn’t ever run from you.’

‘You better.’

JJ rolls his eyes at the teasing tone in Pope’s voice, then pulls him in for a hug. It’s not long until Pope buries his face in JJ’s shoulder, and JJ kisses the side of his head. ‘I do want to marry you, if you’ll have me.’

There’s a pause and JJ feels Pope chuckle against his neck, shivering a little. ‘What is it that you said? My future and yours are the same? That better be in your vows, John B.’

‘Shut up.’ JJ feels himself burning, neck up this time, and tries to laugh it off. ‘I get to be cheesy once.’

‘Just save it for the wedding. I’d like to hear it again.’

JJ angles his body so there’s some space between them; he doesn’t hesitate before planting another kiss on Pope’s lips, reveling in the ease of movement. This is what coming home feels like, and if this is what future has in store for him, who is he to complain?

#outer banks #obx #mayward #jjpope #mayward fic #jjpope fic #jj maybank #pope heyward #my fic #god a part of me adores this and another part hates it #if i don't post it in the first draft version i'll never post it #obx fic

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ranger-kellyn · 4 years ago

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Okay but, I love the idea that after the events of AoC that Master Kohga, Robbie and Purah hang out sometimes because they're all freaking chaotic and goofy. There's even a little sidequest that talks about how the Yiga clan gave some supplies to the lab.(So it seems like they're on good terms now.)

Poor Impa, she's probably like "Oh no, now I have to deal with three of them..". 😂

Chaotic uncle Kohga? He tries teaching little baby Jakahl how to spawn the spiky metal balls and Purah and Robbie have to tell him "He's a baby, teach him when he's older."

While Impa is the overprotective aunt and is like "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! That's dangerous! Why are you encouraging him?!"

okay admittedly i had never considered it but like.............u might have SWAYED ME.

like. i'm in the middle of cleaning, saw this ask while waiting for the sink to fill, and as i was mopping i just. this silly scenario came to mind ignore me i'm just riffing but like.

Purah, Robbie, and Impa are with a group going to the Yiga Hideout to like. idk. Work on stuff with them as a part of continuing to mend the relationships and whatnot.

All three of them were probably on the fence about even bringing Jakahl with them in the first place, but with the yiga having done nothing nefarious in YEARS and no signs of them returning to Ganon, they figure the best way to break the cycle is to not hide things from the next generation.

Jakahl is supposed to at the very least stay with Impa for the main part of the day. Seeing as Purah and Robbie are probably going to be dealing with who knows what kind of machinery, Impa insisted he stay with her. (he's maybe. 7 or 8 at this point?? idk a younger child but not helpless)

Jakahl...gets bored. Impa's work being more of a historian, it's not that Jakahl doesn't like spending time with her, he'd just...rather be doing something a little more exciting. In his boredom, he. Accidentally. Teleports himself away. (with purah having very limited powers and robbie having none, nobody really eXPECTED HIM TO HAVE THEM? SO??)

Impa is INSTANTLY. OH GODDESS. WHERE DID HE GO??? WE GOTTA FIND HIM

The others she's with try to calm her down like, "it'll be fine. nobody here will hurt him, and if he gets too close to something that could hurt him, he'll end up near his parents anyways"

But she says, "Nothing here will hurt him, but his parents???? will LEVEL this place trying to find him if we tell them we LOST HIM"

And half the yiga have probably had their asses handed to them by Purah and Robbie so like. Instant search party. Research can wait whERE IS THE CHILD-

Tearing up the place, they can't find him. Everywhere they look, they just. Can't find him.

Eventually, Impa, in her own teleporting frenzy, falls down in front of Purah and Robbie, absolutely frazzled.

Purah laughs at first. "You good?"

She stays kneeling on the ground. "Can't find him..."

Robbie hears her clearly, and is instantly like "uh-oh".

"Can't what?" Purah asks, kneeling down in front of her.

"Jakahl- he poofed away, I didn't know he has powers- he poofed away and i can't find him- I can't find him-"

And there is just. A noticeable TENSION in the air as Purah stands up and looks at Robbie. A bit of a. Manic. Smile on her face. "Robbie," she says, her voice strained and up an octave.

He grabs her hand. "It's gonna be okay- he's our kid. He's smart- he won't get hurt. We raised him-" (and don't be mistaken, he is JUST AS WORKED UP AS SHE IS. he just knows oNE of them has to be rational in this moment)

She ignores him, turning on all the scientists they were working with. "If anything happens to my baby- if anyone lays a single hand on him I will level this place!!!" and poofs away with Robbie in tow before anyone can say anything else.

Hell hath no fury like a mother who can't find her child.

Meanwhile.

Jakahl is having the time of his life. Poofing in and out of places, getting further and further away, stirring up a little trouble before poofing away again.

But then he exhausts himself. On his last poof, he ends up at that back arena area where you meet Kohga for the first time in BoTW.

Falls right on top of a sleeping Kohga, bouncing off him almost comically, landing in the sand.

Kohga is iNSTANTLY on alert like. "WHO'S THERE? WHO'S LOOKIN' FOR A FIGHT WITH THE ALL MIGHTY MASTER KOH-"

and then he just. sees this small child, who is exhausted and about to start crying bc. It's finally caught up to him that he can't poof around anymore AND that he has NO IDEA where Aunt Impa is.

A crying kid is the laST thing Kohga wants so he's just. He kneels down. "Whose kid are you??"

Jakahl has clammed up, and won't talk.

Looking him over. "Well. White hair. You're a Sheikah kid...didn't those scientists come visit today or somethin'?"

Jakahl nods.

Looking at his face, Kohga puts together who he is. "Oh, yeah. You're those wack job's kid. Jack Fruit, right?"

He shakes his head.

"Close enough, though?"

He shrugs.

Kogha hums, sitting across from him. "How'd you get out here?"

Jakahl finally answers him, and at least now that he's got him talking, Kohga relaxes.

"Can you help me get back to my mom and dad, or aunt impa?" Jakahl asks.

Kohga shakes his head. "Nah, kid, that's work! They'll come lookin' for you. You're exhausted from all that poofin' around. Take it easy."

Eventually, Sooga comes to find Kohga, intent on telling him that Purah is essentially, tearing the place apart looking for her son.

Needless to say, he's surprised to see that Kohga is just. Entertaining the kid. He doesnt' have a large spike ball out, but he's got a few tiny ones and making them float around, and it's absolutely got Jakahl entertained.

"Master Kohga..."

"Oh, hey Sooga! Check this out!"

"His parents are looking for him. His mother is tearing the base apart-"

Kohga just laughs, not taking his focus off Jakahl. "Bring 'em here! he's fine." More quietly, just to Jakahl, "See, told you they'd come get you. Way easier."

Barely a few seconds after Sooga is gone, Purah poofs in the arena, right behind Jakahl, scooping him up. She poofs away again, handing him off to Robbie and Impa who arrived a fraction of a second after she did, and then she is BACK in front of Kohga, snatching him up by the collar as the mini spike balls fall around them.

"WHAT WERE YOU DOING?"

He's nOT looking for an ass beating from her, Robbie, or IMPA (bc if he thinks about it too hard, he can sTILL feel how walloped he got by her back before the calamity [in the Destroy The Yiga Clan mission]) but he's able to play it cool.

"Relaaaax, Purah. Was keepin' the kid entertained till you lot showed up. He was poofin' around too much and exhausted himself."

"I was having fun!" Jakahl yells from across the arena.

"Promise?" Purah asks.

She can see him nodding, and can tell that Robbie and Impa are confirming with him again.

Her anger is just. Instantly gone. "Guess you get to live another day, Kohga," Purah says, letting go of him. He falls to the ground, and she just. Plops down in front of him. "Damn, I'm worn out. Big base, you got here."

And just like that, tensions are resolved, and now that it's over, it's easier to laugh at. (impa tho...is gonna need a Minute to recover)

Kohga, "Some promising powers on that kid! Should let me teach him how to summon the spikes!"

Jakahl instantly looks at both his parents, "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE"

They shake their head, looking at one another, Impa breathing a sigh of relief.

Purah, "He needs to be a little older."

Robbie, "Wait 'till he's like...ten."

and impa is just like "NOOO W H Y"

and thus Uncle Kohga is a regular in their life, much to Impa's chagrin. (she'll come around to him eventually, but the poor woman has probably gotten a few stress ulcers from their combined shenanigans)

#that was A LOT #IM SORRY #let me not hijack ur character like that 😅#purobbie #hwaoc #iaintcallinyafordinner #long post

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okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years ago

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Hello. Thoughts on Dads!Harringrove??? the boys like in their mid 40s with 3 kids. what type of parents do you think they’ll be??? will their grandpa jim spoil them??? i love harringrove parents w all my heart. they both deserve a big happy family of their own 🥰

Hello, my thoughts are it’s the cutest damn thing ever and i could cry just thinking about it aUGH HARRINGROVE DADS.

Okay, so i’ve read quite a few things talking about the Harringrove Dads and adopting little babies, adopting sweet little girls, etc. and i absolutely live and die for that shit. Like i’m so serious, i think it’s so sweet, it warms my heart, i eat it up, i LOVE it

But also (and i’m sure i’m not the first to say it) I feel like they’re NOT the type to go adopting babies. They’re not getting a surrogate to raise a kid from infancy. They may want to, they may have that inkling, they may see Jonathan and Nancy having a baby and get that infamous Baby Fever, but I just… I really can’t bring myself to write that.

Bc (in my canon) Billy was adopted as a 17 year old delinquent. El was adopted as a 12 year old lab rat. Steve was basically abandoned at home when he got too old to be the “cute little boy” their parents could tote around to promote their Nuclear Family image. They’re two boys who were made very keenly aware that there are shitty people out there who believe kids get less desirable the older they get. Shitty people who think babies are worth more than older kids who probably just come with “problems”.

(i’ve also been rewatching Boy Meets World and GUYS. i see a lot of Billy in Shawn Hunter. Boy who’s taken in bc he’s been neglected and he’s a sensitive kid underneath but he’s got this hard, bad boy shell bc it’s easier than crying every day)(AUGH and just like Will in Fresh Prince goddamnit i fucking LIVE for those kids who think and act all tough and use their pretty looks like a weapon but all they really need is a caring and stern hand who’s gonna keep them on the straight and narrow and help them out along the way i am SOFT.)

So if these boys have 3 kids, it’s 3 kids who were seen as the “worst” of the bunch. 3 kids they fought to connect with bc these kids didn’t see anything in themselves anymore but goddamnit, Steve and Billy saw 3 kids beat and broken by the system that told them the older they got, the smaller their chances were of ever getting out of this place. They came with problems and fears and shells harder than Billy’s steel toed boots but like hell were Billy and Steve going to let these kids go the rest of their lives thinking they were damaged goods.

(god now i wanna write OCs of their children. look what you did to me!)

Okay so their parenting style changes as they grow and adopt more kids, as what happens with most parents. They learn what’s good and what’s not so good and they get better at fixing problems (but of course it’s never quite that easy bc they’re adopting kids of different ages).

And of course i’m saying they adopt the kids everyone has turned away, but for their first kid they adopt a little boy, about 5 years old, bc they gotta start small. He’s very cute and has a bit of a lisp and he mixes up some of his letters and he’s… energetic. He runs and he screams and he tires himself out real quick to the point where he just flops down and takes naps where he is, meaning there has been more than one occasion where Billy or Steve has found the child sleeping face first in the middle of a room (the entry room seems to be his favorite. Billy doesn’t blame him, the carpet is softer there than anywhere else.) One time he even flopped down on the middle of the sidewalk and again in the middle of a department store. Both times Billy scooped him up like a rag doll and carried him around the rest of their trip out.

And i know it’s not the BEST movie but i can’t help but think their parenting at the beginning would be a bit like the movie Big Daddy. Like, a lot of well-intentioned but misguided advice, a lot of “real world” lessons (like how to piss on the side of the road), a lot of hurried and frazzled solutions to things because “kids are messy why are kids so fucking messy why can’t he ever stay clean?”

“He’s just a kid, Steve, c’mon-”

“He’s always sticky! How! How is he always sticky? What’s making him so sticky!”

And I just!! Augh!! Imagine Steve at work all day and Billy has off/maybe he’s inbetween jobs right now so he can be home with the kid/whatever and so he has errands to run and takes their little kid with him and the kid’s like:

“What’s your real name?”

“You know that. It’s Billy.”

“…. why?”

And Billy shrugs with an “I dunno, cuz I couldn’t talk and my parents could and they had to call me somethin.”

“You could’n talk?”

“Hey, you couldn’t either.”

The boy thinks for a second before: “Could too.”

“Could not. Not when you were a baby.” He pokes the boy in the shoulder, still very tentative with how much the little tike can take. “Don’t start attacking me! You didn’t name yourself.”

They walk for a second but Billy chimes in before the kid can.

“Hey, that’s not fair though, is it?”

The boy looks up and shakes his head, but he can see the confusion in his eyes.

“You should be able to name yourself, right? What do you want your name to be? Anything in the world, what do you want me to call you?”

Which is how Steve comes home to their child and Billy eating some baby carrots smothered in BBQ sauce and his husband telling him: “By the way, the kid’s new name is Hot Dog.”

“…. what?”

“He picked it out himself.”

And just imagine Billy and the kid are going grocery shopping and Billy catches the boy reaching for a can of spaghetti-o’s.

Billy reaches for the can and takes it off the shelf. “You like these?”

The kid nods.

“Alright then. Watch out-” he hold the kid back gently before chucking the can at the ground. He turns to his boy. “Dented cans are half off. Y’know, Microsoft dropped 3 points.”

His kid nods in awe.

“Wanna pick that up for me?” Billy asks and the kid follows, before rearing the can back to throw it on the ground.

“Woah woah woah! Watch it there!” Billy grabs the boy’s arm, before aiming it a different way. “Aim away from your feet… there ya go. I know they’re kinda tiny targets but still, don’t wanna give yourself a flat tire there.”

The kid chucks it and Billy laughs. “Nice job, little dude.”

And i just have so many THOUGHTS about this!!! Their second kid being a little 9 year old girl who’s real fucking good at boxing and fighting and also a little too good at sneaking out the window. They’ve caught her a few times in the backyard or the front yard, just sitting around shivering. It always gives Billy and Steve a heart attack.

“What are you doing out here?” Steve asks, kneeling down to look at the girl, Billy taking note of her hands balled up into little fists.

“I heard a… noise. A loud noise.”

“Oh, yeah, your brother just dropped a glass.”

“Oh. Did you… did you… hurt him?” Her fists clench tighter, her shoulders get tighter, closer to her ears. Billy sees himself in it. He wants to ease her shoulders down out of her ears.

“No! No of course we didn’t.” Steve soothes, rubbing the girls arms soothingly. She looks skeptical.

But it becomes a pattern, and they realize it’s whenever she thinks something is going on or someone is in danger. To the point where if any loud noise happens, one of them rushes outside to look for Jordan climbing out a window.

Steve’s out there this time, grabbing hold of her middle and helping her out of the window because they’ve let their plants grow a little wiley and she was having a hard time getting past them. He sets her down gently.

“It’s fine, hun. You’re fine. Your dad just dropped a pan.”

“Oh…”

“Y’know, you can’t keep doing this.”

“What?”

“Ditching out the window like this.” He kneels down to look at her. “It’s not safe. And one of these days it’s gonna be snowing and you’re gonna jump out in your PJs and be all cold.”

“I’ve done it before.”

And if that doesn’t break Steve’s heart. He thinks about Billy when he was a kid. About the stories Billy has told him when he’s tired and a little drunk and feeling a little emotional. Steve loses himself in the sadness of the thought for a second.

He brushes a little bit of dirt off her shoulder.

“Yeah… well you don’t have to ever again, alright? I mean it. Nothing is happening to you here. We’re not gonna hurt you… Now give me a hug.”

She accepts it, which is big for her, and Steve squeezes her as tight as he squeezed Billy that one night he found him with a cut on his cheek and bruises all up and down his arms.

And then they adopt another boy. A 17 year old boy. A boy who’s been in and out of so many homes he doesn’t have a number for it. A boy who’s angry and jaded and… loves poetry and is so gentle with children and animals.

And him and Billy butt heads… a lot. They’re so similar… at least he’s similar to what Billy used to be. And it pisses them both off bc suddenly Billy knows what Hop felt- frustration. Utter frustration at this boy not understanding his fucking potential.

And i’ve written a whole dialogue for this but it’s long and very dramatic and I might just end up writing a fic about all of these little sweethearts (bc i have so many ideas!!!) but basically the boy telling Billy and Steve that he’s fucked up. He’s fucked up and no one will ever be able to change that and Billy is adamant that he’s not until he admits-

“No. You’re right, you are fucked up.”

Steve is shocked. “Billy!”

“No, shut up Steve.” Billy points at the kid. “You are fucked up. You’re a fucked up kid, and you know what? I’m fucked up too. And so is Steve. And so is your aunt El, and your Aunt Max, and your Uncle Will and Uncle Jonathan. And y’know what else? Your grandpa Jim is fucked up too. Hell, even your Grandma Joyce is fucked up. Wish I could tell you she’s not but ding ding ding! She is!”

And they get in a fight. There’s no fists, no touching, but it’s a major fight of Billy telling this boy what Hop told him once: You’re our kid now and we love you. And you can leave and never think about us again but we’re never gonna forget you.

And: “Don’t you dare fucking compare us to those assholes because I’m not giving up on you. We’re not giving up on you. You’re family now and no matter what you do, I’m gonna be there to worry about you and be happy for you because you deserve it!”

And Billy gets frustrated with all of his yelling so he grabs his stress ball and walks away, breathing heavy, and Steve is there to look the boy in the eye and tell him Billy’s right. And that he understands that the boy has a past before they ever met him “but Billy had a life before he met me… and same with me and him, and we can still love each other. So maybe we’re just on an even playing field. We get to learn about you while you learn about us and… and even so, we can still love each other, right?”

AUGH I’M SOFT. ANYWAY.

Hop and Joyce spoil them fucking rotten. It’s really hard to spoil a 17 year old boy as stubborn as an ox (“You were bad enough, now you bring me another one?” “You saying you didn’t like taking care of me, Pops?” “I’m saying I have enough gray hair as it is.” “Oh shush, Hop!” Joyce hits him) but they do their best. They give him love and support. Joyce bakes a shitton of cookies and cakes and Hop buys the kids toys (and the older boy CDs and records and band tees)(“I’m trying! The older I get, the less I know what kids what.”)

And they love all their aunts and uncles too! The little girl has a hard time reading and she reads way below her level, so Aunt El helps her out!

“I understand. I learned to read really late.”

“Really?” The girl’s heart lifts a bit. “How late?”

“I was twelve.”

“Really??”

El nods and gives a kind smile. “Yeah, but I learned, didn’t I? I had a lot of help, and I can help you, too! Just like your dad helped me.”

The girl smiles brightly.

Will’s favorite is the youngest boy (but he would never tell the other two that. Of course not.) because he’s silly and he took to Will almost instantly and he likes to roll around in the grass and catch bugs and those were never really things Will liked as a kid and he… he likes that. He didn’t think he’d ever like that but there’s something about this kid that brings out adventure in him. He reminds Will of Mike when they first met. A bundle of energy and excitement that always dragged Will around on adventures.

The older one hangs out a lot with Max and Jonathan. Jonathan likes hanging out with the kid cuz he reminds him of Billy when Billy was young. (“I don’t remember you being this… exhausting though.” Jonathan tells Billy.) (“You’re just getting old, bud.” Billy says with a laugh and a clap on the back) They smoke weed whenever they can and Jonathan gives the boy some good old 70’s and 80’s music to listen to and tells the boy “Meatloaf is not the best of our decade, don’t listen to your father. Either of them, honestly. Their music taste is shit.”

Max hangs out with the older one too. She gives him advice about girls and how to talk to them and she picks up a skateboard for the first time in years because of him. They go to the skate park sometimes and everyone there is amazed that a twenty something year old girl is here to skate with them until she skates circles around them. (She becomes the hit of the skate park)

She also wrestles around with the little 8 year old girl sometimes! She has a lot of heart to hearts with the kid, giving her advice as well and telling her silly stories of both Billy and Steve so that the girl learns to trust them more.

And overall they’re a big, loving family!! And they’re slightly dysfunctional too and i just! Can’t see it happening any other way!! Bc they’re a little dysfunctional but they’re dysfunctional with LOVE and isn’t that what matters???? It’s a lot of work and a lot of sweat and a lot of tears but it’s their family and in the end their kids love them to death bc they realize their fathers love them to death and!!! Everyone’s heart is full and happy and i’m crying!

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sunsetsover · 6 years ago

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I'd love to hear more of your thoughts on Ben having BPD

ok WHEW you just opened a fucking can of worms this about to be the longest post i’ve ever made i hope you have your seatbelt on

let me just preface this by saying nearly everything i talk abt in this post will be based off of my personal experiences w bpd. some people experience it differently, some people might not agree w some of the things i say, but i can only talk abt my own pov. therefore, this just my own personal opinions on ben having bpd. so yh lmao

and disclaimer!! i’m not a doctor!! don’t take anything i say in this post as diagnostic criteria! i’m not an expert or mental health professional!! when it comes to your own mental health or the mental health of ppl in your life, do not consider me a source to reference like ‘oh well lauren sunsetsover said xyz’ like pls just don’t do that. do your own research. and most importantly consult a doctor!!!!!! i am not one!!!!!!!!!

also there are very few sources in this post bc most of this is just shit i’ve absorbed over the years from doctors and doing my own research lmao

now that’s out of the way let’s go! (this became part character study, part informational masterpost on bpd. also it got really fuckin long, hence the read more, so be warned lmao)

warning for potentially triggering content (abuse/mentions of suicide and self harm - nothin too bad but i do touch on ben’s behaviour and history, and this is a p serious mental health issue we’re talking abt here so! take care of yourselves!!)

ok so! some things to keep in mind before we even get to ben:

i believe (at least in the uk) borderline personality disorder is considered to be an outdated name, and one that essentially isn’t appropriate or fit for purpose anymore, so in my experience, a lot of the time now it’s referred to as eupd (emotionally unstable personality disorder) in medical settings. which is way more apt name imo, and tells you more abt what bpd actually is (but i still call it bpd bc it’s easier and ppl know what that is lmao). so like. emotionally unstable personality disorder. i bet that conjures up a way more vivid idea in ur head than borderline personality disorder does.

no one 100% knows what causes bpd, though it’s thought to be a combination of genetic and environmental factors, like most things. but the general consensus is that bpd develops when something (usually traumatic, but not always in an extreme sense. ppl w bpd have often been victims of some type of abuse in their childhood, but that’s not necessarily always the case) happens in your childhood that impacts the development of your personality. kind of a bizarre metaphor but hopefully it will help u understand: u know how in finding nemo, the egg nemo was in got damaged by the shark? and even tho the damage looked minor, it actually meant that one of his fins was permanently damaged - it was malformed, it didn’t grow right, he couldn’t use it properly? well imagine the fin = the personality; that’s what happens to a person w bpd’s personality. smth happens to us in our childhood that permanently damages our personality, and so it doesn’t grow and develop properly as the rest of us does, making it less functional than an average person’s. u can imagine how that can lead to all sorts of problem (we’ll get to them later)

but bc it’s a mental disorder that affects the personality, you can’t be diagnosed w bpd until you’re 18, when your personality is basically developed fully (i believe it can be diagnosed slightly younger, but those are rare and extreme cases). however, symptoms can start to present themselves earlier, as ur personality begins to develop and mature. (mine started presenting in my early teens)

bpd doesn’t really go away, and treatment with medication generally isn’t effective for long periods of time. however symptoms can be treated with continued therapy, and symptoms sometimes can start to ease as you get older!!

bpd also gets misdiagnosed a lot bc a lot of the symptoms are similar to that of other mental health problems. the biggest one it gets misdiagnosed as seems to be bipolar disorder, which i get tbh. i’ve always considered bpd very similar to bipolar, just like… quicker cycles. there are even memes about it. also bpd has a tendency to coexist w other mental health issues, which makes it harder to recognise and diagnose.

so now lets look at this from a diagnostic perspective

in order to be diagnosed w bpd you basically have to deemed, by a medical professional, to be meet certain criteria, and to have been meeting these certain criteria for a significant amount of time. there are some variations to this criteria, and proposed subtypes and basically different flavours of borderlines but i’m not even gonna go there. i’m just gonna talk abt what i’m most familiar w and how i think that applies to ben.

i’m copying and pasting the diagnostic criteria part from here bc as far as i’m aware this is the criteria doctors use for diagnosis. there are 9 different ‘indicators’/’criteria’, and you have to display or meet at least 5 of them in order to be considered for a bpd diagnosis:

1. Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment

this is one of, if not the biggest part of bpd. that trauma i mentioned earlier? often stems from or is related to abandonment, or perceived abandonment, in childhood, be it physical or emotional. for example, a child that’s being abused by one parent might feel abandoned by the other parent if they don’t do anything about it, even if the second parent has no idea the abuse is going on. sound familiar? a similar thing happened to ben, with stella. phil not doing anything about the abuse ben was facing at the hands of stella - even though he didn’t know it was happening, even though phil did do something once he found out - was an abandonment to ben. and that’s just the tip of the abandonment iceberg for ben - kathy faking her death and leaving him was an abandonment (even when he thought she was actually dead), phil’s own abuse was an abandonment, as was his reaction when ben came out, and so on. and abandonment like that skews your thinking so you believe that everyone is going to abandon you, sooner or later, that they must be abandoning you for a reason, you must be a terrible person, you must be unworthy of people’s effort/time/love etc etc.

even when paul died, that was an abandonment to ben! like logically we know - and ben probably knows too - that paul didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to leave ben, he didn’t deliberately leave ben. but that doesn’t matter. mental illness is illogical, bpd is illogical, esp when it comes to abandonment. e.g. my therapist had to cancel a few of our appointments once bc she was ill, and it felt like an abandonment. like it was personal somehow, like she wasn’t coming into work bc of me, bc i was too much work, too hard to handle. ofc that wasn’t true, but that’s how it felt. it’s illogical. so ofc my solution was to just not go to my appointments even when she came back, bc like what other response is there lmao. it’s just that everything a person does feels personal, like it’s because of/about you, even when it isn’t. even when it has nothing to do w you. that’s probably why ben can come across at selfish at times, like he’s making everything about him. because it is all about him, in his mind. everything is because of him, is his doing, his fault etc. his way of thinking is skewed into thinking like that, bc shit keeps happening to him and ppl keep leaving him, so it must be his fault.

and!! ‘frantic efforts’ isn’t necessarily what u think it is!! it can be desperate begging ‘i’ll do anything to keep you in my life’ type actions, but it just as equally can be lashing out and abandoning someone in order to prevent them from abandoning u first - a ‘get them before they get me’ mentality (the whole scene where phil was in the hospital comes to mind - the ‘why doesn’t he love me back?’ was the more desperate part of him, tho it wasn’t necessarily an ‘effort’ per se, but then him trying to kill his dad basically in order to have the abandonment be at least on his own terms? that’s lashing out, and def qualifies as a ‘frantic effort’ lmao). and how often do we see that in ben? lashing out at jay in the hospital because he knew he was mad at him, and he’d rather hurt jay physically before he could hurt him emotionally? ben trying to support callum and showing him kindness, only to turn around and threaten to out him when he finds out callum asked stuart to sort him out? everything that happened w his dad, trying to fuck him over before his dad can get there first, trying to get rid of keanu so he can’t be abandoned in favour of him (although that didn’t really work, but it rarely does work the way u want it to lmao). and the biggest one to me, though probably one that people have already forgotten, is him breaking up w that guy he was seeing in newcastle even tho they were into each other bc he ‘had to, otherwise [he] would have ruined his life’. even tho we don’t really get details, that says it all to me. it’s v much a pattern that’s present in ben.

2. A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by extremes between idealization and devaluation (also known as “splitting”)

i feel like this one doesn’t need much explaining lmao

here is a definition of splitting from here (which is a very good article on splitting imo if u wanna read more abt it): ‘Splitting is a term used in psychiatry to describe the inability to hold opposing thoughts, feelings, or beliefs. Some might say that a person who splits sees the world in terms of black or white, all or nothing. It’s a distorted way of thinking in which the positive or negative attributes of a person or event are neither weighed nor cohesive.’

a little explanation of it from me: ppl w bpd can sometimes have very simplistic, all or nothing views on things. and splitting is basically when ur opinion on something or someone changes very quickly (sometimes instantly), often to an extreme (e.g. going from loving and idolizing someone, to absolutely fucking hating them, or from having a neutral opinion on something to suddenly becoming extremely angry abt it) sometimes without even having an identifiable trigger. it links into black and white thinking, which u may have heard of before - u either love someone and they can do no wrong, or u hate them and they disgust you. either something is amazing or it’s terrible. there is no grey area, no in between. it goes back into the whole ‘not being able to regulate ur emotions properly’ thing lmao there’s rarely nuances to our emotions or feelings, we’re all or nothing a lot of the time. so splitting is when ur opinion rapidly changes to one of these extremes. sometimes u can even go back and forth, splitting over and over on the same person/thing which is super fun.

ben splits on his dad all the time. all the fucking time. he doesn’t care about phil at all and wants to ruin him, then he wants phil’s approval and to be welcomed back into the family fold and the business. then ben hates him and wants him dead, then 5 minutes later he wants his love, wants to be a good son again. that’s splitting. u can also see it w jay, too, but no where near as extreme as w his dad. and i’ve seen it a couple of times w callum too, but again, it’s way more subtle. u probably wouldn’t notice it if u weren’t looking for it, whereas w phil it’s obvious.

but like i don’t need to explain ‘unstable and intense interpersonal relationships’, do i? just look at the relationships w phil, w jay, w lola, w callum, even w paul - they were unstable back when they first got together, and were arguably kind of intense too. (he settled a bit w paul, but his death/perceived abandonment fucked him up a lot beyond the expected ways). he’s always arguing w the ppl he loves. he tried to get poor billy killed, and yet since then he’s had no problem w him!! none of his relationships - apart from maybe his mum and ian (i don’t include lexi bc she’s a child) - are stable. and i would definitely describe his relationships as intense lmao

3. Identity disturbance: Markedly or persistently unstable self-image or sense of self

u can see this most - as most things - in his relationship w his dad. he fluctuates between seeming to know his worth (and demanding other people know it too), knowing he deserves his dad’s love and approval (why else would he be so mad abt the fact hes not getting it, if not bc he knows he’s worthy of it? if he didn’t think so, he wouldn’t be so angry abt not getting it - he’d be accepting/understanding, wouldn’t he?) and being desperate to do anything to get his dad’s love/approval, even things that are below him, turning into a child, begging to know why his dad doesn’t love him, why he’s never been enough. that scene where phil had found out abt ben trying to frame keanu and leaving him for dead is the epitome of this. u can see ben fluctuate between a hurt, traumatized little boy, begging his dad for some answers, some explanation as to why he’s not enough, begging him not to start drinking again, and a man who is angry, angry at his dad, angry at himself for crumbling like this, bc he should be stronger than this. u see him change multiple times in that one single scene. go watch it again. you’ll see it too.

some more examples: his absolute certainty that he is better and more qualified than the likes of shirley and keanu for working with his dad, and then being like ‘my dad was right, i’m good for no one’ - they don’t line up. does he have self esteem and know his worth or not? also his entire relationship w callum is an example of this - all those changes in his attitude towards cal and their situation? he often treats callum like they’re equals who understand each other, yet sometimes it seems like he thinks he’s superior to callum (e.g. the scene outside the cafe), and others he behaves (keyword) as though he thinks he’s not good enough for callum (why else would he just take all that shit from whitney and not say anything in retaliation? why, if not because he deems it more important that callum has an easier time of it than he does; that he regards cal’s comfort more important than his own? and why would he do that, if he held himself in such high regards? i mean he certainly acts like it sometimes, so why not then?)

also like……. who is ben? is he the bastard who cares about no one but himself, who’s always causing trouble not only for himself but for the people he cares about? is he the guy who just completely folds when people he knows hurtle abuse at him, accepting it lying down, who thinks he’s no good for anyone? the guy who goes out all night and drinks himself silly and purposefully gets himself into fights? the guy who shows callum so much empathy even tho it brings him nothing but pain, who loves jay unconditionally, who tried so hard to help bobby when he came back from prison? which one is he? which one does he want to be? does he even know?

(and you could argue that people are just multi-dimensional, but there’s just such a vast gap between these different facets of ben’s character and he can flip through them so fast it’s jarring, which is why i think it’s more like he straight up doesn’t have a consistent sense of self. which is a big part of bpd)

4. Impulsive behavior in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating)

again, does this need explaining?

doing illegal shit, excessively drinking, becoming unnecessarily violent, fucking up his relationships, just generally doing reckless things regardless of the consequences - this has always been a part of ben’s character.

(his constant hook ups could be another one, but the jury’s still out on that one. if anything it’s less the sex that worries me and more the flippant attitude he has when meeting up w ppl - they could be anyone and do all sorts, at the end of the day)

it became most obvious recently around the anniversary of paul’s death - drinking himself sick, gambling all his money away, deliberately starting fights. but even before that and since then it’s been there.

it’s basically just a way to self sabotage.

i feel like this one isn’t a consistent part of ben’s behaviour like the others are, but it is undeniably there, so.

5. Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-harming behavior

although ben (to my knowledge) hasn’t displayed any suicidal behaviour, he has at times spoken in ways that could kind of sway that way. (i’m no good for anyone, i’m not worth it, why do you care etc)

also self harming!!! just because he doesn’t hurt himself in a direct way doesn’t mean he doesn’t deliberately put himself in situations where he’ll get hurt, and that is self harm!! letting stuart beat him at pride was self harm!! picking that fight w those homophobes at e20 was self harm!!! drinking to excess is a form of self harm!!! putting himself in harm’s way, even if he doesn’t get hurt, is self harm!!!! just bc he might not be self harming in the traditional sense doesn’t mean he’s not hurting himself!!! this one has been on my mind for so long!!!! oh my god!!!!! he absolutely has a pattern of self harming/self destructive behaviours, and just a general disregard for his own safety and well being!!!! the fact that it doesn’t worry more ppl in his life is so upsetting to me!!!!!!

6. Emotional instability in reaction to day-to-day events (e.g., intense episodic sadness, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)

aka the biggest part of bpd: pt 2

i feel like this definition doesn’t really do justice to this aspect of bpd. this is basically you literally having no control of your emotions. ‘day-to-day events’ have fuck all to do with it half the time. u could be sitting there minding ur business and all of a sudden you wanna smash up the entire room, for seemingly no reason. one time i was crying - like uncontrollably sobbing, a complete mess - and had been for maybe half an hour? and then all of a sudden, literally mid sob, it stopped. like it just stopped. i was done, i wasn’t sad anymore. i went from inconsolably crying to perfectly fine in a split second. can you even imagine that? it’s fucking crazy. that’s what having bpd is like. it’s like mood swings x1000 (that’s why i describe it like bipolar on a smaller scale - their mood swings last days/weeks/months, ours last minutes/hours, sometimes days but not often). you can be fine, then all of a sudden you’re not. or you can be not fine, and then all of a sudden you are. you can be ecstatic, then all of a sudden all the joy gets sucked out of ur body n u wanna die. then 5 mins later ur fine again. u can cycle thru every single human emotion in the space of a few hours with no warning whatsoever. u can go from feeling so many emotions u don’t know which one to focus on to feeling none at all. it’s exhausting. so yes ‘day-to-day events’ (this can be as minor as the way someone speaks to you, or not enjoying ur food as much as u thought u would, and it can make u terrifyingly sad or spark uncontrollable rage in u) can trigger it, but it’s like… at least that’s kind of justifiable. most of the time u just cannot regulate, control or predict ur emotions whatsoever. and often the emotions u do feel are not appropriate for the situation at hand lmao

on top of that, ppl w bpd have massive problems processing their emotions. while most ppl have the capacity to identify what they’re feeling and why, ppl w bpd often can’t. and bc they can’t identify it properly, they don’t know how to process it. that’s why emotions and feelings are so often black and white - we might develop the ability to recognise Big Emotions, like love and hate, happiness and sadness etc, but we can’t figure out the smaller, nuanced emotions. it becomes or, not and.

this is also why our emotions feel so big and all encompassing!! we can’t ignore our emotions!! they are our focus in a lot of ways. when ur sad, it feels like the world is ending, every single time. when ur happy, ur euphoric and nothing else matters, and so on. every emotion has the volume turned up to 100. that’s why our emotions sometimes come out in extreme or unhealthy ways - our emotions often feel so big we have such a hard time handling them. so we go to drastic lengths, whatever they may be, to cope.

(also bc most ppl w bpd are victims of abuse, we’re often hyperaware of other people’s moods, which can impact ours. someone can be annoyed for some innocuous, innocent reason, and yet bc we can sense it, we become scared or defensive and may lash out.)

and ben… little old ben, have u ever seen him have a rational reaction to anything in his life? how often have we seen him have an appropriate response to smth? my dad is shit, so i have to destroy him. failing that, i have to kill him. oh, my brother isn’t gonna let kill him? time to punch him in the face. my daughter ate all my cereal? it’s Overreaction Time. (this one in particular is Very Me like yes lexi is a child and he was unfair but my 7 year old cousin once drank all my j2os and i almost had a breakdown so i Get It) i’m feeling like shit? time to antagonise these homophobes until they beat me in the middle of the street. i sleep with this man once? time to get overly involved. he shows me a little bit of love and kindness? time to develop feelings for him despite him insisting he’s straight, the fact that he’s with a woman and i have been harassed and beaten by his homophobic family multiple times. but it isn’t going the way i wanted it to? time to impulsively hit him for not knowing what he wants, then immediately regret it.

and like. he went from crying his eyes out in his dad’s kitchen to threatening kat slater within the span of what, 10 minutes? he went from trying to kill his dad, to falling tf apart w jay, to trying to manipulate his dad - who had just woken up from a coma - for his own gain again, in the span of maybe an hour. if that doesn’t say rapid cycling, inconsistent emotions idk what does.

like idk enough about the old bens to say if this is a consistent characteristic of his or not (although based on the fact he killed a woman bc he was angry w his dad, i’d say it’s fairly safe to assume lmao) but ever since he came back his reactions and emotions have been pretty much never once been rational, stable or consistent.

(and like i wanna say i am saying all of this from the perspective of the bad days. so if you’re thinking ‘well, ben isn’t like that all the time’ ur right. neither am i. some days i’m fine, some days it’s not that bad, sometimes i can cope. but i still have bpd, even on those days. and imo, so does ben.)

7. Chronic feelings of emptiness

this is one i don’t really see in ben. we maybe see moments of emptiness, but certainly not enough to call it ‘chronic’.

also a lot of the moments we do see emptiness in ben, i feel like it’s forced emptiness, more for his own benefit or for the benefit of others rather than actual genuine emptiness. it’s not that he’s not feeling anything, it’s that what he is feeling he’s not showing. that’s very different from actually feeling empty.

8. Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)

this! is! such! a! massive! part! of! having! bpd! and it’s a part that no one ever fucking talks about either!!!

and again, does this one need explaining?

ben is anger. he’s a ball of it, and he has been for a very, very long time. he’s angry at his dad, at the world, at himself. for all sorts of reasons, both complex and simple. if i sat here and tried to get into all of it this post would be twice as long as it already is. and i don’t think i really need to, anyway. it’s not as if any of us need to dig very deep to see it, is it?

‘frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights’ like i really don’t need to elaborate do i? bc what does ben do when he’s angry? his temper flairs up, he gets physical, lashes out, makes threats.

and he’s so often angry in response to emotional pain, which is the saddest (and for me, most relatable) part. just look at paul’s anniversary, how angry he was just in general, to everyone - even his mum, who is like the only exception to his anger since he’s been back - when he was just hurting and sad. how angry he got when he found out keanu had replaced him in phil’s will, when really he was just hurt. he gets angry and violent so people don’t see him as weak bc he’s hurting. he has been conditioned to get angry instead of getting sad. it’s not healthy at all.

there is so much more but i feel like it’s unnecessary for me to get into it. bc u know. ben’s not exactly subtle in his anger is he lmao

9. Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms

this is the only other one that i don’t see in ben at all, and it’s one that i don’t really experience myself either so i don’t even have any insight to offer lmao

so!! more or less 7/9!! that’s a passing grade for diagnosis!!! welcome to the club, mr mitchell!!!!

all of this, of course, has been purely from a medical, diagnostic standpoint (w some of my personal experiences sprinkled in lmao). there’s so much more to say from like a ‘living w bpd day to day’ standpoint but like, this post is already way too fuckin long so i’m just gonna hit on a few that i feel are important in regards to ben, and ones i have’t spoken abt yet

most ppl w bpd have a ‘fp’ or ‘favourite person’ (tho it can be multiple people), which sounds nice but it’s kind of a really complicated and difficult thing tbqh. here’s the best definition i could find: ‘When someone with BPD uses the term “favorite person” to describe someone else, they are typically insinuating that this is a person they cannot survive without. For BPD sufferers, the favorite person is the person who is a source of emotional support and dependence. This individual has the ability to truly impact the BPD sufferer’s day in either a positive or negative manner. The favorite person to someone with BPD holds a critical role in their lives by holding the power to ‘make or break’ the successful navigation of daily tasks and struggles.’ it’s a difficult thing to explain/understand (so please feel free to google ‘favourite person bpd’ to get a better understanding), and is not always as dramatic as it sounds, but it’s like… even if they aren’t a source of ‘emotion support’, ur mental wellbeing can hang on this person’s every move. (which is not healthy, i know, but it’s just a thing that happens w bpd!) and phil is absolutely ben’s fp. ben hates phil, and yet is still so desperate to be in his good graces, in his life no matter what that costs him… and ben’s self esteem, his actions, his moods are so dependant on phil. it just?? makes so much sense to me. i realize it may not make much sense to someone who doesn’t have any understanding of what a fp is, but like if u do, i’m sure u see what i see.

i think maybe jay was another fp of ben for a while in the past. i don’t think he is as much since ben has come back, but in the past?? maybe. like less in the ‘my happiness is dependant on u’ way and more in like a ‘i’m very very attached to u and need u in my life and would maybe go crazy if anything or anyone got in the way of that’ way.

and i think callum might be sneaking into territory now too tbqh. it would explain why callum’s actions and words have such an impact on ben’s moods despite not much really happening between them. and like i wanna say: someone becoming ur fp is not a choice. it just happens. it’s not like ben is going ‘oh im going to get overly attached to u just for a laugh’, no. this would be completely out of his control. and when it happens, it fucking SUCKS. so if that is what’s happening, it’s going to have a massive impact on ben - and it seems like it already is.

and like taking the whole fp thing out of it (bc i know it’s complicated and hard to grasp) bpd would explain why ben seems to be so attached to callum even tho very little has actually happened between them!!! like bpd will have u falling in love w someone who just shows you basic human kindness and decency, and i mean that very literally!!! bc like i said when you have bpd, you struggle to navigate and handle basic emotions, so all the nuances of romance and love? jesus christ. it goes back into black and white thinking - i either love this person or i hate this person, there is no in between. so callum, showing ben kindness? showing him support with what’s going on w louise and what happened w phil? not hating him and thinking he’s despicable and evil and all those things people say about him? and ben, having bpd? he probably wouldn’t be able to comprehend that maybe cal’s just being friendly, esp not after they slept together. so ofc he would latch tf on to that. i would latch tf on to that. his behaviour towards callum just seems very on brand for having bpd to me, genuinely.

and !! all those things whitney said the other night !! people complained about him not arguing back, but like… she’s almost saying what ben wants to hear, when it comes to callum. bc i touched on it before but like the thing is when, you have bpd ur thought process is like ‘i care about this person, they are good, i don’t deserve them, i am bad, i am going to ruin them, i’m probably manipulating them into spending time with me and caring about me, but i can’t let them go, i need them, i bet they don’t even like me, i don’t deserve them, i don’t want them to get hurt, i don’t want to hurt them, i am going to hurt them, in the end.’ (and eventually it spirals into ‘actually they’re probably going to hurt me first bc everyone always does so let me completely destroy this relationship so it’s unrecoverable and hurt them now so they can’t hurt me later’ but that’s another story) and whitney more or less confirms that for him!!! in essence, what she says to him is ‘you’re bad, he didn’t want anything to do with you but you manipulated him into it. you don’t deserve him, you’ve hurt him, you’ve hurt me, how could you do this?’ so like… ofc he’s not gonna argue w her. he’s already had a shit day, all of the fight is gone from him, and he agrees w her!! i’m sure he was thinking that he deserved what whit was throwing at him - not necessarily for what he’d done to her, but because he is Bad and callum is Good and he needs to stay away from him, otherwise he’ll ruin him. bc that’s just what bpd brain tells u, even when u’ve got no basis to believe it. (unless ur splitting or experiencing a big emotional high, but again, that’s a different story)

and that kind of makes sense as to why he’d go to the wedding. going back to the anger instead of sadness thing - he’s hurting, so he’s going to get angry and vengeful. he has been hurt, so now he is going to hurt in return. esp considering both callum and whitney have seen him in such a vulnerable state. it’s probably a pride thing, too.

also just to expand a little more on the ‘unstable sense of self’ thing - ppl w bpd (and also victims of abuse, but sometimes that particular venn diagram is a circle) tend to change the personality based on who they’re with. which is what most people do, yes, but i mean the Extreme version. it’s a trauma response thing - u’ll reflect parts of a person’s personality back at them, or even take bits from personalities of ppl u know they like in the hopes that they’ll like u more like that, as opposed to ur real personality (if u even know what that is). and sometimes those parts stick (esp when you idolize the person u stole them from/they’re your fp), and it’s like u all of a sudden realize ur entire personality is built of parts of other ppls personalities that you’ve stolen. so it makes sense to me that ben seems to have so many differing personalities/sides to his personality, bc he’s learned which parts to show to who, and in what situations - in response to his abuse as a kid, if nothing else.

(and before anyone can even go there: that is not an act of manipulation. it’s a trauma response. it’s something that happens without us consciously having any say in it, as a way of self-preservation. it’s like if i make myself likeable and appealing to u, you’re less likely to hurt me, physically or emotionally. and yes ben has a habit of manipulation, but this is not a part of it. none of ben’s manipulation is directly bc of his hypothetical bpd, it’s bc that’s just who he is. i don’t ever want to see the two equated, or see anyone say any shit like ‘ben must have bpd bc he’s manipulative’, ever.)

just for the hell of it, here are some spicy bpd memes, bc that’s how we communicate on the internet. (here are two in particular seem quite relevant to ben rn lmao + bonus one for phil!!)

so! there we are!!! i’m sure there’s some important stuff i overlooked and that this is not what u expected when u sent me this question, but there are so many misconceptions and stigmas out there surrounding bpd that i wouldn’t have felt right half assing it. and i hope, if nothing else, u learned something abt bpd that u didn’t know before :-)

if u read this far ur a trooper lmao but if anyone has any questions, be they abt ben having bpd or bpd in general please feel free to ask!! i’ll do my best to answer them to the best of my ability 💖💖

#ben mitchell #ballum #eastenders #petty as hell but it was really bugging me that this wasnt showing up in tags so i'm posting it again lmao #sorry if u already liked/replied to it :-(#bpd #anon #question

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bibbleboo · 4 years ago

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Could we get some headcanons/more background on Abbey and Doyle’s kids? 🥺👉👈 I love the premise of this AU

YEEEEE (im just gonna ramble a bunch about the backstory i have so far but ill put it in bullets so its easier to follow lol i apologize for it being long as fuck-)

OKAY SO,,, first of all,,, doyle and abbey timeline,,,, [i am looking respectfully]

in this au, they get back together and have a sort of ‘lovers pretending to be enemies’ chaotic on again/off again hookup thing off to the side just between the two of them thru like Most of the final season, they try to keep it a secret (especially doyle who doubts the saturdays would be hAPPY if he was seeing her again) but in the end, saturdays ofc find out, probably are unsure about it at first, but she gains enough of their trust to be there for the big finale battle in the weird world mansion.

when shit goes down and argost becomes the vessel for the two opposing kurs (regular kur, and the anti kur from zak monday) and they like. explode his matter or w/e, i imagine instead of kur just completely disappearing, the ‘anti kur’ gets shot back to its universe, while original kur gets forced into a new vessel in this universe... the closest of which happens to be the unborn child abbeys unknowingly carrying. basically, what if the two kurs just LOOKED like they evaporated but actually did what happens when you try to like tape two same sides of a magnets together and they YEETED-

So thats how we have Parker, their firstborn daughter! and this... also implies ‘Parker Monday’ exists which. 8^) i havent thought about yet so forgive me on that but hoo,

they dont know parker is kur, they got no idea and rly just assume kur is gone for good. but after they find out abbeys pregnant (which is a huge emotional trip for both of them in its own right) they do eventually sort of agree they dont want their kid exposed to that whole world of mystery. like, ik its a vital thing to the whole family, and ik these two people were probably voted least likely to ‘settle down’ in high school, but i cant imagine they didnt escape the kur/zak situation without a LOT of trauma, so while the saturdays stay in the cryptozoology field, doyle and abbey slowly pull away from the mystery and mercenary stuff, and also instead of going for big dollar lifestyle settle with ‘independently wealthy’ parenting.

also, neither of them really . grasp the concept that theyve even started a family, and are ‘together’, and that this is REAL, until around when she gets pregnant with their second daughter, Kendall. and then theyre like. oh nooo wait are we actually like boyfriend and girlfriend EWW-

when kendall is born parker is 3, and the next like 10+ years are pretty smooth sailing. as far as what the kids know/see, they probably know the cryptids when theyre little but. (tw animal death sORRY TO BE DARK I JUST??????) idk,, how long komodo dragons live/how old komodo already is and i definitely dont know Anything about giant prehistoric birds and am not even sure if science knows that lifespan, so. im not sure how long they could really be in each others lives??? i almost imagine parker would have memories of them that she assumes she remembers wrong, like “oh yeah they used to have a lizard and a bird... my imaginative little kid brain thought they were a komodo dragon and a dinosaur”, and as for fisk im still working on it but i . actually kind of imagine he might have a much longer lifespan (since lemurians are like ancient or w/e? and also if hes by dna like a gorilla cat or w/e gorillas at least live long af) and also feel like once he got older and settled down a bit he might live somewhere in the woods, maybe even his old tree? and the saturdays see him ALL the time obviously, but hey zaks gotta go to college eventually, a gorilla cats gotta eat bugs in forest, we all have to grow up and leave the nest sometime,

so idk the last time parker has actually seen fisk and she might assume he was an imaginary friend or smth but, 1. if i do write a fic they absolutely have to meet again, 2. overall the vibe is they know the saturdays are cryptozoologists, like, the same way josh gates does destination truth, seeking answers and studying, they dont really. know that theyre REAL. to them its like, a hypothetical science. (this is also part of why they dont realize parker is kur, she isnt around cryptids and therefore whenever her powers would actually show up they wouldnt be recognized) anyways parker isnt embarrassed or put off by it but just thinks its a little wacky, meanwhile kendall is obsessed with the world of mystery/paranormal/cryptic lol

speaking of the girls personalities;;;

parker is like. not really normie/preppy, even if she seems it at first glance, shes nice and has a good head on her shoulders but also is a teenage girl (inherently unhinged) and shes THEIR teenage girl (+5 feral) so despite her success and charm shes also very witty/crass when she wants to be, and deep down shes closer to the kind of person that would on pure inexplicable instinct put something random in your mouth when you’re yawning so you bite down on it afterwards. or like. that video of the girl singing in the bathroom while her friends curl their hair and she grabs the curler to use as a microphone before realizing its burning hot??? shes. the voice of reason, but the voice is usually shrieking in fear, making a cursed joke, or half the time whatever shes saying is actually smart. she kinda wants to go to college and travel, but struggles with indecisiveness and anxiety, so she has no idea where to go, what to major in, etc. and is again kinda just livin thru the typical teen life in that regard

kendall on the other hand is like. weird kid culture, the kind of kid that believes they are secretly a new supernatural creature each year (mermaid phase, werewolf phase, alien phase, etc), probably completely accidentally starts cults or witch covens at school (didnt realize teaching peers how to become ‘blood brothers’ and ‘make potions’ from puddles and stolen school supplies would be taken so seriously by parents) , very into emo/scene/punk/alt culture but not rly in an overtly dark/edgy way, more of a having fun and expressing self way. she wants answers for everything, really loves mysteries and being open minded, and definitely a rebel/adventurer at heart, even if she gets naive or in over her head sometimes.

the girls get along well! parker is not dismissive of kendall she just. isnt really into the same stuff/is more freaked out by it most of the time, but she would tag along on certain adventures, especially if it was to keep her safe. and kendall definitely directs gentle mockery towards parker a lot but does see her as a good role model and guiding figure, their bond is really strong!

other details !

doyle and abbey prob decide to say fuck it and get married after kendall is born, they probably have a few rough patches but nothing is more important to them than the kids now and in the end they understand each other better than anyone else so . canon tension idk her! family ftw! power couple! they intimidate the teacher during parent teacher conferences together hand in shady little hand !

their parenting style is exactly what one would imagine, 70% fun and sass and controlled chaos where theyre the bigger children than their children, 15% ‘this is how you hack the government and dual wield swords-- i was not supposed to teach you that im sorry’, and 15% actual guidance / emotional depth / etc. flaws might be overcoming their own immaturity for the first few years, and then being lowkey overly protective (while claiming they arent, but just bc you semi jokingly tell parker she should join the football team doesnt mean you dont actually hide 60% of ur life from her and check that her bedroom windows are locked every night and have 24 people listed in her school emergency contacts and used to cut up her food till she was 7 and-)

so abouT THE BABY BOY (Phoenix), 1. his middle name is leonidas bc im gay and i love emotional turmoil babes , 2. fully unironically the idea behind such a late pregnancy is abbey would be mid fourties when hes born right. so like. [has two kids] ‘ok birth control time’ [when theyre teens many years later] ‘ok im old enough to stop taking this’ [the hyperfertility curse that plagues many women rears its ugly head with one last hoo-rah]

and finALLY a very quick elevator pitch of what id write an actual fic to focus on;;; kendall sneaks into the attic to look for old shit bc they BOTH know their parents have been hiding stuff over the years, she finds things like a cryptopedia (now offline), the claw, maybe even a piece of the kur stone, and ropes parker into the long haul of figuring out what all this stuff is. and ofc the second they ever find the naga relic and parker comes face to face with it, [rest in rip] time for mom and dad to find out and all this kur shit to start ALL over again-

#long post/ //#tw animal death ment//#GOD THIS IS SO LONG IM SRY--#idk what to call thsi au forreal yet so ill just tag it as #dabbey baby au #TY FOR ASKING THO HEART HANDS

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theshelbyslimited · 2 years ago

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A BLESSED NEW CHAPTER. I hope your birthday week has been as lovely and special as you, I am sending you tons of best wishes for this new year of your life ❤️✨️

“You’re looking more like your Mummy every time I see you. I think we’re going to be in big trouble when you’re older, Kitty Kat. Have to keep all the boys away from you.” THE WAY MY HEART IS BURSTING 🥰😭

"The scene both made him grin and want to cry at the same time." BIG MOOD JOHNNY BIG MOOD 😭

“You smell like Christmas.” THE NOSTALGIA 😭

“It’s Christmas Eve, Will. You don’t know what that means yet, but you’ll have a grand time, mate. Come on, let’s finish your breakfast.” PLEASE he is the best dad 🥺😭

"No one knew that the Christmas of 1913 would be the last normal Christmas for a long time." DON'T REMIND ME 🥺😭

"Neither of them were aware that every person at the party was watching them. Some with longing, others with nostalgia, a few with jealousy." I'm definitely on Team Longing and Team Jealous bc a love like theirs is truly what dreams are made of 😭

“I figure all that mistletoe, it means I can spend all night kissing you.” This is SOOOO John though, I love it so much 🥺

“I want to kiss you everywhere, darlin’. Every single part of you.” I AM YEARNING 😫😭

“Merry Christmas, darling.” “Merry Christmas to you all. I love you.” MY HEART FOR THIS LITTLE FAMILY 🥺🥰😭

"Hours later, Finn was passed out on the parlor floor, Will asleep next to him. Katie was asleep in the cot they kept in the parlor, and John sat with Martha on the sofa." FINN THOUGH 🤣

“Merry Christmas, Mar. Love you.” “Merry Christmas, Johnny. I love you, too.” PLEASE THEY ARE MY HEART 🥺😭

"Mornings spent in bed with Martha and the kids, making Will laugh with silly faces, holding Katie as she slept, her hands wrapped in his shirt. Conversations with Ada about Freddie Thorne, going over the family business with Polly, taking Finn to see a picture at the theater." PLEASE I LOVE ALL OF THIS 🥺😭

"Martha had cried quietly the night before, unable to hold it in any longer. Her tears streamed down her face and onto John’s chest as he held her tightly to him. There was nothing he could do but whisper that he loved her and just let her cry it out." I HATE THIS SO MUCH. GODDAMN WAR 😭

“Alright, Will, I have to go now. Be a good boy for your Mummy and I’ll be coming back soon, mate. I love you.” “And my Kitty Kat. I’m coming back to you, too, ok? I love you, little one.” THE WAY THESE FAREWELLS AT THE TRAIN STATION NEVER GET EASIER 😭

“I’ll try my best, love, I promise. I’m coming back to you, like I always do.” AKSJJHS 😭

“I love you, who ever you are there.” PLS STOP THE PAINNN.

"Will Shelby was always nervous around trains. He hated the whistle blowing, the steam hissing, the squeaking of the wheels. It wasn’t until he stood in uniform on a similar train platform in late 1939, Katie’s hand locked tightly in his, that he understood just how brave his father really was." WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DO THIS?! WHY?! HAVE WE NOT HAD ENOUFH PAIN?! 😭

THAT ENDINF WAS SO RUDEEE. these war chapters always put me through the ringer bc they can be super fluffy to begin w, only to turn angsty once the time comes for John to return to France. I love this little family w my entire soul and I am MANIFESTING a happy ending for them, no matter what 😭

The Heart Underneath: Chapter 27

***This fic is being posted simultaneously on FanFiction.net and Ao3. I originally began it in 2016, and then life was life, and now I’m bringing it back because it deserves to be finished! Rating M as of Chapter 10 ***

I’ve had a few people ask me about starting a tag list - if you’d like to be added to that, please comment below! I’ll start doing this on my next post.

Chapter 26 THU Masterlist

The Heart Underneath

Chapter 27: December 1916 (20 and 21)

John woke up to the smell of something baking, warm spices mixing with citrus wafting up to the third floor. He had felt Martha rise from bed, but it seemed like only moments before, when she kissed his cheek before quietly getting dressed. He must’ve fallen back to sleep.

The fire was low, and he stoked it before throwing on enough clothes to keep warm. He carefully snuck down the stairs, and turned into the kitchen, watching as Martha mixed ingredients together in a bowl. Her hair was hanging down, loosely braided, and she had one of his wool sweaters on over her dress. He smiled as he watched her for a moment, lost in her own world. The feel of her lips against his cheek still lingering. His girl.

He walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist, dropping his head against hers.

“You smell like Christmas.” He said, voice hoarse from sleep.

“That’s funny, since it’s Christmas Eve.” Martha replied with a laugh.

She stopped stirring, allowing herself to lean back into him, the warmth from his body far more consuming than his sweater.

“Let me get these into the oven, will just take a few minutes.”

John sat at the kitchen table and watched as Martha carefully spooned the Christmas pudding batter into two more molds that were laid out on the counter. One for the party that night already in the oven, and two for the family the next day. Really one was just for John.

He held the oven door open as she slid the molds in carefully and then untied her apron. It was rare that both of them were up this early, and the look that passed between them acknowledged that they should take advantage. John took Martha’s hand and led her into the parlor, fire already blazing, and took a seat in an armchair. She grinned as he pulled her into his lap and she curled up, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Words weren’t needed. John held Martha’s face as he kissed her and let his other hand drop as she leaned into him. His hand came to rest on her hip and he had a fleeting thought that one day, when they were older, they’d have a house to themselves. And then they could touch each other whenever, wherever, and not worry about being interrupted. Well, except if they had children.

John woke up to the smell of something baking downstairs, and remembered groggily that Martha had risen early. He’d watched through half closed eyes as she got dressed before coming back over to their bed. She gently ran her fingers through his hair and leaned down to kiss his cheek, her hair dropping down over his arm. He reached out to touch her hip and moved his hand against her stomach, thinking of the baby.

“Go back to sleep, love. I’m taking Will downstairs, Katie’s still sleeping.” Martha had whispered, bending down so they were eye level.

He lost himself in the green gaze that pierced through the darkness, just a dull flame in the hearth. Martha ran her fingers down across his cheek, losing herself, too, in the gray blue that seemed endless. She heard Katie babble quietly in her cot and picked her up, swaddled in blankets to keep her warm. John reached out and settled Katie into against his side, watching as Martha lifted a sleepy Will up against her hip. She smiled and leaned down once more to kiss John’s cheek.

He had fallen asleep again, listening to the sound of Katie breathing against him. Now she stared up at him with those same green eyes and dimples that matched her mother’s.

“You’re looking more like your Mummy every time I see you. I think we’re going to be in big trouble when you’re older, Kitty Kat. Have to keep all the boys away from you.” John said as he held Katie up close to his face. The baby smiled and reached a chubby hand out to grab onto his jaw.

John held his daughter close for a few minutes, enjoying the peace and quiet of the early morning. It was calming to know that Martha was downstairs, baking for Christmas, Will safe with her while he was up in their bed holding Katie.

Soon after he walked quietly down the stairs, holding Katie in one arm against his chest. He stood in the kitchen doorway and watched as Martha pulled the tin molds she used every year out of the oven. She was wearing his old wool sweater and the scene both made him grin and want to cry at the same time.

Martha smiled as she felt John wrap an arm around her waist, resting his head against hers for a moment.

“You smell like Christmas.” He mumbled into her neck, his lips ghosting across the bare skin above the sweater collar.

“i’m so happy you’re here, Johnny.” She whispered, leaning her head back against his chest.

John closed his eyes and took in the scent of the Christmas puddings, steaming on the side counter. The way the spices lingered in Martha’s hair, how they would stay in the sweater she was wearing. Her body underneath his touch, real and present. It wasn’t very noticeable yet that she was pregnant again, from a glance. But he could feel the small bump beneath her dress, could see the small changes in her body. He wanted nothing more than to stay in that moment forever.

“Dada!” Will said excitedly, as he looked up from the floor where he played with a small toy.

Martha smiled and took Katie from John as he leaned down to pick up Will.

“It’s Christmas Eve, Will. You don’t know what that means yet, but you’ll have a grand time, mate. Come on, let’s finish your breakfast.”

Martha watched as John sat at the table and pulled Will’s half finished bowl of porridge towards him. Will babbled about something no one understood while John fed him, and Martha took a seat to nurse Katie. John looked up at the kitchen doorway, noticing for the first time the mistletoe hanging there. He leaned over the table and kissed Martha.

“There’ll be more of that later.” John whispered in her ear.

Heat radiated between them as he leaned back into his chair, winking at her. Martha’s face flushing at the suggestion, a devious little smile on her face.

John carefully carried the box that Martha had placed her baked goods in for the party at Charlie’s yard. It seemed like all of Small Heath had been invited. Tommy and Arthur had gone ahead with cases of liquor, the rest of the family following shortly after. John had been hoping for time alone with Martha and was secretly relieved when the house emptied out.

He had sat on the edge of their bed, polishing the face of his pocket watch, glancing up as Martha stood in front of the mirror. She was pinning up the top half of her hair and she smiled at him through the glass. He stood as she picked up her necklace, taking it from her hand and draping it around her neck, securing the clasp.

Shadows from the dying fire flickered softly across Martha’s face as she continued to hold John’s gaze. Her heart raced as he stepped as closely as possible and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“You still smell like Christmas.” He said with a smile, watching her reaction reflected back.

“You better kiss me if there’s mistletoe, John Shelby.” Martha replied, knowing how much John secretly loved the tradition. Not that he ever needed an excuse to kiss her.

“Oh I will, love. Don’t worry. We better get going. I’ll meet you downstairs in a moment, just need to do my tie.”

Martha turned and pulled his head down to give him a quick kiss, earning a grin in return.

No one knew that the Christmas of 1913 would be the last normal Christmas for a long time. The party went late into the night, as John drank, Martha stealing sips from every round, both of them laughing as he spun her around with the music. John managed to snag a couple of her sausage rolls and gingerbread biscuits, stuffing them in a handkerchief as Martha giggled next to him.

Neither of them were aware that every person at the party was watching them. Some with longing, others with nostalgia, a few with jealousy. Martha looked like a Christmas angel with her green dress setting off the glow of her hair, John reaching out every once and awhile to sweep it off her shoulder. The way that John never looked at another girl, the way that Martha never looked at another boy. It was truly once in a century.

It was past one in the morning as John held Martha close to him, walking through the streets, still laughing. He’d wrapped his overcoat over her coat to make sure she stayed warm. The reality was, Martha only needed to be near him to be warm enough.

They tiptoed up to their room, Martha holding her hand over her mouth to stay quiet, grinning at how John looked sneaking up the stairs. He opened the bedroom door and Martha gasped. Draped from the rafters over their bed was mistletoe.

“Did you do this?” Martha asked in surprise.

“I did, just before we left. Do you like it?” John asked, gently pushing her into the room so he could close the door.

“I love it, Johnny. Really.” Martha replied with a smile.

“I have to admit, I had a plan in mind.” John said casually, removing his shoes.

“And what’s that?”

John walked over to Martha and pulled her into him. It seemed like he could feel her skin through her dress, like there was nothing between them. He picked up the pendant around her neck, and rubbed it with his thumb before setting it back down carefully. Martha watched every move he made.

“I figure all that mistletoe, it means I can spend all night kissing you.” John whispered.

He dropped his head down to kiss her, Martha sliding her hand up to the back of his neck. She gripped the front of his shirt and ran her hand down his waist coast, unbuttoning as she went. John came up from air and caught the look in Martha’s eye.

“Just kissing?” She asked breathlessly, running her fingers back up to unbutton his collar.

“I want to kiss you everywhere, darlin’. Every single part of you.” John said, his eyes burning into her.

Martha carefully laid Katie in her cot as John did the same with Will. Both children had fallen asleep in the parlor after supper, and it was late by the time Martha and John carried them upstairs.

“We’ll have to find the right time to move these two into the other room.” John said quietly as he hung up his waist coat, placing his pocket watch on the table.

“I think after the winter, once the new baby is here, Will be ready.” Martha replied, watching as John poked into the fire grate, making sure the room was warm enough.

He turned and watched as Martha pulled down the linens on their bed, her hand touching her stomach absentmindedly. He looked up and saw several bunches of mistletoe hanging from the rafters, a warm feeling taking over.

“You remembered the mistletoe.” John commented, removing his tie.

“Of course I did. Do you really think I could forget that evening?” Martha replied with a smirk.

John shook his head and helped her unhook her dress, waiting for her to put on the back of a chair. She turned and he pulled her into him suddenly, holding the back of her head as he kissed her with every ounce of energy he had.

“I want every part of you, Mar.” John murmured in her ear, gathering her hair in his hand.

Martha felt like the world had fallen away into a blur, the only thing she could focus on was the feeling of John’s lips on her skin, his mouth moving down as pushed her carefully into the bed. She didn’t worry about the children hearing them or the fact that John was only home temporarily. She only focused on his hands on her body, his nose grazing against her inner thigh.

It could’ve been hours, John wasn’t sure, as he lost himself to the feel of her hands on his back, her legs moving against him. Their hands locked on either side of Martha’s head as he pushed himself into her, the feeling so overwhelming, he had to close his eyes for a moment.

“Open your eyes.” Martha said as she wrapped her legs around his hips.

John opened his eyes to find the green he loved so much, Martha’s cheeks flushed, her breasts pressed against his chest as she arched into him. He couldn’t look away, watching as she spoke his name over and over, gripping his hands. He knew nothing else would ever feel as right, to be with the woman he loved with everything he had. Martha focused on John’s eyes, his weight on top of her, how he felt inside of her. She would let herself cry when he returned to France.

“Merry Christmas, love.” John said as Martha woke up, his hand against her cheek.

“Merry Christmas.” Martha replied with a smile.

They both looked each other, grinning at the thoughts of the previous night. John didn’t care anymore about getting caught, he’d wrapped Martha up in his arms as they’d fallen asleep, bare skin, every part of them pressed together. Now, in the morning light, Martha could feel a certain part of his body become very alert.

“Again, John?” Martha asked with such a naughty smile, John felt himself lose control.

“If we hurry, and be quiet, we can.” He replied quickly.

Martha laughed as John ran his hand down in between her legs, kissing her collarbone. She didn’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else. Ever. She could live in that room, in that bed, on Christmas morning. Forever.

An hour later, once they made themselves presentable, the couple made their way downstairs. Polly raised an eyebrow but smiled and they joined the rest of the Shelby family in the parlor. No one except Finn missed the glances between Martha and John that day, the fleeting moments of holding hands or a small touch.

Martha bringing a plate to John, laden with sweets and the Christmas pudding she’d made. John holding her as she slept in his lap late that evening, carrying her upstairs. Everyone could feel it, the love between them.

“Merry Christmas, darling.” Martha whispered as John opened his eyes to find Will and Katie staring back at him.

John smiled and Will laughed as he reached out for his father, John taking Katie into his other arm.

“Merry Christmas to you all. I love you.” John said, looking over Will’s head at Martha, a silent conversation running between them.

Martha leaned her head against John’s shoulder and listened as he explained Christmas to Will and Katie, neither of whom really had any idea of what he was saying. But it was important, to have John explain holidays and create these memories, even though they would fade as the children grew up. As much as neither of them could speak of it, both Martha and John knew this could be their only Christmas together as a family.

Hours later, Finn was passed out on the parlor floor, Will asleep next to him. Katie was asleep in the cot they kept in the parlor, and John sat with Martha on the sofa. He was drifting off himself, pleasantly weighed down by Christmas pudding, the roast that Martha had cooked for the family, gingerbread biscuits, and sweets that Finn had shared with him.

Martha smiled to herself as she felt John slump against her, his head falling onto her shoulder. He had his arm across her lap and his hand resting against her stomach. Martha put her hand on top of his and thought about how John and Will fell asleep the same way, trying not to laugh.

“Merry Christmas, Mar. Love you.” John mumbled as he gave in to sleep.

“Merry Christmas, Johnny. I love you, too.” Martha whispered back.

She could hear the quiet conversation between Polly and Ada in the kitchen as they cleaned up. Her children asleep along with Finn, her husband sleeping next to her. She prayed that Arthur and Tommy were safe and hopefully warm, wherever they were.

John was scheduled to return to France on January 3, 1917. He soaked in every moment he could with his family. Mornings spent in bed with Martha and the kids, making Will laugh with silly faces, holding Katie as she slept, her hands wrapped in his shirt. Conversations with Ada about Freddie Thorne, going over the family business with Polly, taking Finn to see a picture at the theater.

Martha had bundled up the children, and both clung to John as they stood on the train platform. Will’s blue eyes were wary and he gripped the collar of John’s greatcoat. Katie was quiet as she watched people moving around them, feeling safe in her father’s arms.

John had packed up that morning and felt doom settle over him as Martha handed him extra warm clothes. The winter had been bitterly cold so far, and the news coming back from the front was that it wasn’t any better there.

Martha had cried quietly the night before, unable to hold it in any longer. Her tears streamed down her face and onto John’s chest as he held her tightly to him. There was nothing he could do but whisper that he loved her and just let her cry it out. He’d woken to find her watching him with a shaky smile.

“Alright, Will, I have to go now. Be a good boy for your Mummy and I’ll be coming back soon, mate. I love you.” John said, kissing Will on the cheek and handing him over to Polly.

“And my Kitty Kat. I’m coming back to you, too, ok? I love you, little one.”

John held up Katie in front of his face, kissing her head softly and holding her to him again for a moment before handing her off to Ada, who had tears in her eyes.

“Stay safe, please.” Martha whispered, wrapping her arms around John.

“I’ll try my best, love, I promise. I’m coming back to you, like I always do.” John whispered into her hair.

Martha nodded and choked back a sob as John placed his hand against the front of her coat, feeling the small bump underneath all the layers she was wearing. She looked up at him and the unspoken passed between them. That John would do everything he could to get back home. But it might not be enough.

“I love you, who ever you are there.” John whispered again, his heart heavy.

He looked at his family, making eye contact with each of them: Finn, Ada, Polly, Will, Katie. The doom he felt about returning was heavier than ever and he couldn’t shake it off. He wanted nothing more than to stay home. But he knew he had to go back, to help Tommy and Arthur.

“I love you, Mar.” John said, looking back down into Martha’s glassy green eyes.

“I love you, Johnny. Always. We’ll be waiting for you.” Martha replied with a shaky tone.

John kissed her, like he always did before leaving, committing the moment to memory. Martha wiped her eyes as he walked backwards, holding her hand until he had to turn towards the train. The way he took a deep breath and pulled his head up high, it broke her heart.

Will started to scream as John got on the train, the sound piercing through the crowd and it took everything in John to not turn around and get off. He looked out the window as Will fought against Polly’s grip, Martha’s hair whipping in the cold wind as she wrapped Katie into her coat.

Will Shelby was always nervous around trains. He hated the whistle blowing, the steam hissing, the squeaking of the wheels. It wasn’t until he stood in uniform on a similar train platform in late 1939, Katie’s hand locked tightly in his, that he understood just how brave his father really was.

WWI Historical Context:

The winter of 1916/1917 would be the coldest winter on the WWI Western Front, and was recorded as one of the coldest winters ever in France up to that point. Trenches flooded and froze, creating a cold mud. Battlefields were open and exposed.

The same winter is also known as the Turnip Winter, as German civilians faced starvation due to ongoing British blockades, loss of the male workforce to military recruitment, and a poor potato season in the fall of 1916. Already dealing with severe food shortages, much of the population had to rely on turnips as a basis of their diet. The lack of food supplies contributed to a large drop in morale amongst the German population that winter.

1916 was the bloodiest year of World War I, with the near five month long Battle of the Somme accounting for 1.5 million casualties, which included over 300,000 deaths.

#ch: john shelby.#tv: peaky blinders.#c's fic recs.#series.

26 notes · View notes

musicallisto · 7 years ago

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Hi❤️ Can I have a ship w/TMR & HP(male), pls? I’m 5'7,have a long black hair,dark eyes,fair skin. I'm ENFJ,the eldest of 4,making me reliable & a good leader. Very caring,affectionate,kind,strong both physically & mentally,competitive & fearless. I'm a good listener so as a good adviser. I adore animals,children & LOVE cuddling,skinship,coffee,theme park & advanturous things.I hate heat & worst w/directions. I'm always there for my sis. Smile's always on my face & I hope everyone can smile,too.

(Thank you so much and take your time with my ship if you’re too busy, I understand! Hwaiting ♥ I’m supporting you~ 🌹🌷🌺💐🌼🌻 I hope you have a lovely day filled with happiness, smiles and love.❤️❤️❤️)

I Ship You With…

T H O M A S

• If Thomas had to describe in one word everything he felt when he looked at you, it would be admiration. He was completely mesmerized by the way you moved, the way you talked, how good of a leader you were, how everyone seemed to rely on you, how you were so tender and yet so brave, how you were so altruistic and generous, how you were determined to save everyone no matter the price. It was what drew him to you. Your personalities were so alike in many ways. Although you weren’t one of the official leaders in Group B, you quickly became the head of the operations because the girls soon realized how good you were at taking the lead, scheming and making plans, and leading people to victory. You were a rebel, a fighter, and Thomas loved that about you. You didn’t try to talk him down, to tell him what he was doing was worthless. You believed in him and he believed in you, and it was enough for the both of you, despite all the death and the chaos surrounding you. You showed your utmost potential in the Scorch: you were an absolute badass, saving Thomas and the others Gladers several times. Your fearless and commander nature was Thomas’s favorite thing about you.

• Besides being one of the strongest and most physically capable ones in the Group, you also valued intelligence a lot, so it was very important for you to keep doing mental puzzles and things like that after all the situation died down. You taught Thomas how to play chess and even if he didn’t understand a lot at the beginning, he was more than happy to play with you. It often ended up in Thomas being frustrated because you won extremely easily, in only a few minutes, and he didn’t understand how you did it. You laughed and told him that he was just really bad at that game, and you wondered why WICKED had even bothered studying his brain. He smiled light-heartedly; your little jokes never failed to bring a smile to his lips, no matter how pained he was by all those he had lost. Evenings in Paradise were spent playing chess on a makeshift board as the sun was dying down behind the horizon on your right, and it was peaceful and quiet: everything you wanted and deserved after the trials.

• Since you loved children a lot, you tried to convince Thomas to have some of your own, years after the dreadful events of the Maze and the Scorch. He was skeptical at the beginning, not wanting his children to live and to be raised in a world so dark, a world so cold, but you told him how amazing of a father he would be and how incredible the kid would feel having a dad like him, and eventually, after a few months of asking and persuading, he accepted. Your first born child, a boy, was named Newt. It felt like a proper tribute to your best friend, and although you wished he could be there to see his small alter ego, you were filled with happiness with your little family. Thomas turned out to be a really good father, treating his child with respect, love, and being firm when he needed to. Sometimes, you could hear Thomas’s voice crack when he called your son by his name, but you shared a comforting look and he smiled lightly. Everything was going to be alright.

M I N H O

• Minho must be your best friend, there is no discussion here and it seems OBVIOUS to me that you two fit each other perfectly. Like honestly I don’t see a romantic relationship between the two of you but sign me up for the bff stuff. You both get so competitive and teasing when you are around each other, especially because you were both the best runners in your respective Mazes, and Minho can’t have his ego beaten by *cough* “a girl” (he regrets those words as soon as he realizes that you’re indeed going to beat him God knows how and that you’re actually one helluva girl). You’re always throwing snarky comments at each other and being what others would think is nasty, but you both know it’s just for the laughs and it’s your way of being affectionate.

• HOWEVER, as soon as the other is in danger, shit gets wild. When Minho is threatened by WICKED because of his immune condition, you’re the first one to react and try your best to protect him, and Minho would be the quicket to jump in front of danger to protect you (I mean, Thomas would too, because they’re both such hotheads). Sometimes, and especially in the Scorch, when everything seems desperate and after Minho gets hit by the thunderbolt, his playful banter slowly turns to more philosophical and deeper conversations that he shares with you at night around a bonfire. At first, you’re taken aback, because it’s a side of Minho that you don’t know, or are not used to seeing. You find some stupid joke to make because seeing your lively best friend so down in the dumps is very frustrating, and he uncontrollably laughs because you know him so well. He’s uncapable of keeping a frown when you’re around.

• After the Scorch and all the Flare shit, when life goes back to normal, you suddenly realize that animals must have suffered as much as humans, if not more, and you instantly find a new goal: adopt and care for any stray animal that you find near Paradise or on the roads. And every g o d d a m n time you see a wounded racoon or a pathetic-looking dog, you must take it in, to the great displeasure of Minho who doesn’t understand that fascination at all. From his point of view, it’s already hard enough to keep humans alive, let alone furballs. However, when you pick a little blind in one eye kitten, pleading eyeing Minho with his only blue orb, and literally shove him under his nose, he can’t help sighing and agreeing with you. From that day, he helps you put up an animal shelter in Paradise and surprisingly becomes the most whipped and gaga in front of the baby animals.

J A M E S S I R I U S P O T T E R

(faceclaim: Blake Steven)• So you didn’t specify which era you wanted so I thought you were okay with any, and I never wrote anything about Next Gen (actually, yes, I did. I wrote a Lorcan x Rose fanfic years ago and it was actually quite decent. It was called Kiss From A Rose bc, yanno, the song and the wordplay, rose, haha, lol, so funny 10/10) so I thought why not? So you two would be King and Queen of mischief™ just like the two amazing bastards he was named after. You may not be the most malicious, and that’s exactly why you make an excellent duo: teachers never suspect you because they know how intelligent, mature and responsible you are, and therefore would never do anything as childish and frivolous as putting pranks on people, right? but they fail to remember that you are dating James Sirius Potter, grandson of James Potter and nephew of Fred and George Weasley. (actually, McGonagall knows very well what’s going on, but she doesn’t interfere a lot because she misses the lively and funny atmosphere in the castle from the Marauders time, or the twins time).

• Soooo many dares, tournaments and stupid challenges between the two of you. At first, they were light-hearted and simple, nothing too extravagant, like “I bet you can’t eat two turkeys in one dinner!”, but as days went on and neither backed down, it escalated until it reached the point of “One hundred Galleons if you dye Professor Longbottom’s hair green in his sleep”. You always come up with the w o r s t dare ideas, or at least the most maleficent, and the thing is James Sirius always executes them. He never backs down from a challenge or dare, partly because it amuses him a lot and partly because he doesn’t want to be seen as cowardly. When you fear it’s going too far (because you have the most common sense, so even if you find it funny, you know when it’s time to stop and be serious), you tell him that it’s okay if he doesn’t do it, and it will absolutely not degrade his reputation or the way you view him, but once he has an idea in mind, he doesn’t let it go. Which leads him to detention quite a handful of times per semester, and as a consequence he receives a lot of Howlers while you’re laughing on the other side of the table.

• Because you both adore animals, and because that kind of stuff seems to run in your blood, you decide during your fifth year to become Animaguses, or at least attempt to do it. It takes a lot of months of preparation, and at first, you are very intimidated by the processus, but James Sirius convinces you to try to do it with him because it will be so much fun and imagine the endless possibilities if you can transform into an animal at will! Finally, after months and months of bizarre spells and disgusting concoctions, after several times escaping from detention because you were brewing potions after hours in the bathrooms, you finally manage to make it. It’s very confusing at first to change shape and become an animal, and not knowing what animal you would change into when you first transformed was very stressful, but after a lot of practice and training, it became easier and easier to get used to changing into an animal, and you could use that new, secret ability to meet with him without anyone knowing.

T E D D Y L U P I N

(faceclaim: Chace Crawford)• So despite being much older than you both and therefore leaving Hogwarts years before you, Teddy is your best friend because of his mischievous, happy-go-lucky nature that really mirrors James Sirius’s personality. You get to hang out with him a lot, because he is a very good friend of the Potters, and also because you get on well with Victoire too. He is your favorite partner in crime and when he gets a prank idea to pull on someone in the castle and James Sirius is there to follow him, he basically is unstoppable. Your trio is very well known in Hogwarts when Teddy is still attending because of your creative jokes and pranks, and, to tell the truth, a little feared.

• Even after Teddy leaves Hogwarts, you still are in touch with him and talk a lot via letters. You tell him everything that’s going in Hogwarts, the classes, your friends, your family, gossip about the professors and the students, every little thing that he never would have thought he would miss when he was a student himself. He’s the only person you tell about your Animagus journey, and he’s very impressed because he knows it’s a very advanced form of magic and few wizards are ever capable of doing so. He doesn’t need it, obviously, but he loves hearing stories about your adventures and animal escapades nonetheless. Your letters are always the highlight of his days because he loves hearing from you and James Sirius and you are the closest thing he’s ever had to a brother and a sister. He loves hearing from you, your friends and your handwriting always reminds him of the times when you would spend days scheming jinxes and hexes to traumatize the poor other students.

• During the holidays, instead of staying at Hogwarts that becomes completely empty and dull, you would go back to the city and spend one week with your family and the other with the Potters, who basically adopted you as their second daughter. You love spending days with them because most of the time, the Weasleys and Teddy are there too, and it’s one giant family gathering where everyone knows each other and everyone gets along. You usually take long walks in the countryside with your best friend, trying to catch up the time you’ve spent without talking to each other, laughing and running in the corn fields, laying in the grass and laughing at the clouds that ominously look like McGonagall, or that Malfoy kid, reaching a pond and pushing a fully-clothed Teddy in there, then fleeing from the crime scene under his infuriated shouts… You’re so grateful for your friends and the amazing family that took you under its wing.

Moodboard

bigger version

Playlist

Muse - Knights of Cydonia

Martin Garrix - Virus (How About Now)

Eminem - Not Afraid

The Cab - Angel With A Shotgun

(the playlist & moodboard are mostly TMR related, but I was much more inspired, hope you don’t mind!)

#ships #ship requests #the maze runner #thomas #dylan obrien #minho #ki hong lee #harry potter

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createdbyangels · 5 years ago

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“C”

**Disclaimer - I can’t give details about C’s story, history or current situation. We are contractually bound to maintain his privacy and intend to do so. But this story is something I want to remember the details of because it could have only been crafted by God himself. So there will be lots of letters used in place of names or other details I can’t share. But this is a record of this story for our family to have in the future because it still seems hard to believe sometimes.

The week of December 9th was our first “back to normal” week, coming off the heels of a 4 week track out, Corbin’s birthday, Thanksgiving at Grandmom’s and our week at Disney. Our foster license was approved 11/18 but we knew that with everything we had coming up in the next few weeks we wouldn’t even be considering a placement until at least December. We actually got a very interesting placement email the Thursday we were at Animal Kingdom (our last Disney day) but of course I didn’t see it until late that night (after 7pm) and James and I were not even close to being in a state of mind to have a conversation about it until the next day in the car. We decided we might be interested and I emailed our placement specialist. She said she would let them know we were interested but she was pretty sure they had been placed already. I felt....disappointed. It was a sibling set in our age range it seemed like we could have been a good fit. Several days later (the beginning of the next week I think) we got another placement email but it wasn’t something we could handle.

In the mean time, we have some friends at church who have become GREAT friends over the past year. We didn’t realize until after we started getting to know each other that they had actually been licensed through the same agency we used months before we were. They have teenage kids and are fostering teens - and are a general wealth of parenting knowledge along with being all around wonderful people. And since it is hard to understand the journey of fostering if you haven’t been through the work that goes into it, we talk often about how we are feeling and what is going on. M called me early in the week of December 9th to talk to me about a placement they were working on. She would be visiting for the weekend (they’d met her once before) and our friends were excited about the potential. The circumstances were different this time than they had been in past placements. We talked for a while about what it would look like, expectations for the weekend and the fact that T had a brother who was also trying to be matched. M asked what our age range was and when I told her “3-9″ nothing else was said. I had a very small moment where I felt like I should offer to host the brother (even though he was out of our range) because he needed somewhere to go but I decided against it. It might be weird to insert myself into their family’s journey and I didn’t know anything about this kid. And he is 11 which is way older than our range anyway. So we wrapped up our call with promises to pray and keep each other in the loop. And we knew we’d see each other Sunday at church and I’d get to meet T.

So Sunday 12/15 we got to see each other and I briefly met T since she was with our friends. They’d had a good weekend and I found out that things hadn’t gone as well for the brother. He’d met a few families but it wasn’t looking like they’d found a great fit. But the siblings had to be moved to a new placement ASAP and they were relocating them to be near an older sister who was adopted a few years ago and is currently in the greater Raleigh area.

Monday 12/16 I was beginning to feel “back to normal” after all the trips and reentry from the trips. I dropped everyone off at school and came home prepared to spend several hours working. It was my favorite day of the year...Savannah’s school had extended hours as a “parent shopping day” so I didn’t have to pick her up until 2:30!! (Usually Monday pick up is 1:15 after kidokinetics and W/F are 12:30). So I get to my desk and there is an email from our specialist. Asking if we’d be interested in a “temporary placement” for a boy who we might be somewhat familiar with because our friends are taking his sister.

So, now we have been officially added to the mix. I just stared at the screen for a minute and as I was typing a text to James I got one from him. “You see the email?” So I called him. And told him everything I knew (which I hadn’t done before then because honestly, I assumed he wouldn’t care and things had been shared in confidence by my friend on the phone the week before). James had hesitations. There was still a family that might be interesting in taking him but they “didn’t want to move too quickly”so they weren’t ready for him to move in yet. But it was time for him to move somewhere. So maybe we’d just be a stop over while he visited and got to know the other family. That seemed too risky to James. He didn’t want to be another disappointment in C’s story. Another failed placement. And, he is a 6th grader. Not even on our radar. But everything I knew made me very insistent that it was our time. We would frame it as, “We are getting you to the area to be close to your sisters and make it easier to find your forever home” I had a long conversation with our placement specialist about that concern and how I wanted to be sure to talk about it. She was on board. At that point they said he might be arriving tomorrow. As in, 24 hours from that initial conversation. I called my friend and told her what was happening. She was shocked that we’d been looped in. And that we’d said yes. Then she told me that T wasn’t coming until Wednesday bc that was the soonest they could be ready for her so we shouldn’t expect C until then either. I couldn’t focus on anything else that day. There was suddenly so much to do. So many loose ends to tie up. A mattress topper so the bed was more comfortable. Matching Christmas jammies since the rest of the family had them already (those came from our kindness elf so don’t mention that part of the story to the kids until they are older). I had just THE NIGHT BEFORE gotten us tickets to a Carolina Hurricanes game in January (using Corbin’s 2 free tickets through a school reading program) so I called all the people and found a seat in the row directly behind us.so James could sit right behind us and we could all go. We talked to the kids about what was going on and they were SO EXCITED. I honestly have no idea what happened on Tuesday. On Wednesday I met my life group at church to help with something and then picked S up from school. We ran one more last minute errand and then we came home to wait.

C arrived with his social worker shortly after 2pm. He was shy and nervous but luckily Savannah is neither of those things and launched right into making him feel at home. He’d made an ornament for our Christmas tree. I talked to the worker for a while and then she drove away and left me fully in charge. We played basketball for a while after showing him around the house. When Corbin got home he was eating a sandwich. They smiled at each other and within an hour it was like they’d know each other forever.

We went to Chick Fil A for dinner (C’s request) that night and James met us there from work. He ended up having to turn around and go back to work that night before C’s bedtime. C and I played a game until he got home and we tucked him in for the first time. I distinctly remember trying to figure out what it must feel like to be 11 years old and suddenly living in a totally new place with new people and new everything. And kind of being a professional at doing that. I couldn’t fathom it and it made me so so sad.

He had a good night sleep and the next day we were off to the races - an awards ceremony at Corbin’s school, meetings with social workers and our licensing specialist (that happened at James’s property so my dad actually got to meet C on day 2 because he was there doing a set up) and the workers bringing the rest of C’s stuff. A LOT of stuff. and SO. MANY. CHRISTMAS. PRESENTS. They were concerned he wouldn’t get much at his previous placement so they really overcompensated and sent him approximately 2-3 Christmases worth of stuff.

I had a great friend in the neighborhood come over before Christmas and help me go through, open and sort the gifts to make it more manageable. Friday he came with me to Savannah’s Christmas program at preschool. He moved to the aisle so he could see better during their songs. Things flowed easier than I expected. The boys couldn’t wait for the weekend so Corbin would be home for a week and a half on Christmas break. And boy do they have a good time together.

Now to some of the crazy things. We found out that the family who adopted the oldest sister is friend’s with our pastor. They go way back. So even though all 3 siblings are placed with different families there is a tie that runs through all 3 of us.

Also - C came to us on 12/18. Exactly one month after we got our license. And crazier still, exactly ONE YEAR to the day from the day my leg pain moved from something annoying to something that I thought was really a problem, I’ve said many times that I think God literally laid me out so I could understand that I’m not in control and even if I stop spinning all the plates, the world will keep turning. AND exactly one year TO THE DAY from the day I went with Pam to see “Instant Family” in the theater and told her, the first person I said it out loud to, that James and I had officially made the decision to look into adoption through foster care. I spoke the words to someone after seeing a movie on the topic and 365 days later, C arrived.

There are some crazy connections regarding his legal name that I obviously can’t share but they are enough to give you pause for sure.

Here is a story I shared on FB on Christmas:

Several weeks ago I went and bought "Santa wrapping paper" (2 rolls per kid for some reason) and stashed it in the back of the closet. I pulled it out yesterday and my heart skipped a beat when I realized that one of the rolls was Snoopy driving Santa's sleigh. It was meant for Corbin but I'm not sure why I picked it since neither of my kids are very interested in Charlie Brown. C LOVES Snoopy. He has several stuffed animals he sleeps with and his night light is even Snoopy. He has proclaimed his love more than once over the past week. And one of the presents we unwrapped in the stash the social workers brought was a giant box of Nerds (one of the novelty ones) with grape and strawberry nerds. A day or 2 before opening that package, I was laying on Corbin’s bed with the boys reading before bed. They were acting a fool (per the norm) and I called them nerds. They laughed and laughed and said, “Are you gonna eat us!?” I pointed to them one at a time and said, “You’re strawberry and you’re grape” And then I find the box. That box came from me to them on Christmas. They thought it was hilarious. No one can convince me that God didn't know long before we did that we'd have an extra stocking to fill this Christmas. I am so grateful for His perfect timing and faithfulness.

I saw that oldest sibling’s family had shared their story with a local church congregation during their Christmas service. We had friends over for Christmas dinner who go to one of the campuses. I asked if they’d heard the story or seen “these people” and they said, “YES!” They told me some of the story the family had shared (a story I already knew) and then said, “We wondered what happened to the other sister and brother she mentioned”. My response? “The brother. He is upstairs”

It keeps happening. Please understand this wasn’t a local placement. These kids came from a few hours away. But the story continues to be woven together in a way that can only be explained by God.

It is day 16 and C started middle school today. He was a lot more emotional than I thought he would be and it broke my heart. I spent the day worried about him. He came home smiling though.

The kids regularly and freely talk about how C should live here forever. Our agency won’t start those conversations for at least 6 months. We are all open but James and I are being careful about what we say. 16 days feels like a lot. But it obviously is not. To say this is a MAJOR decision is an understatement. So, we continue to take it one day at a time and wait to see what God will do next.

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hankeliza · 5 years ago

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Hate to be cliche, but here goes.

This decade has been some shit. 2010. Best year of my life. I’m 17, I have my soul mate and best friend every single day of my life. No bills and making way too much money. I got the love of my life, Rome. I am so cool in my mind and just life was fucking GREAT. I met corbin that year and I was legit in absolute bliss.

Feb 2012 my best friend moves to fl and that was so great but I am in absolute shambles. I am lost I am unhappy. This is where it all goes wrong and only now, 8 years later do I realize the codependency issues I had with jenna. I fucking loved that chick from the depths of my goddamn soul, we could speak and make decisions and plans with just locking eyes for a blink of a second. So bc I am sad, lost and unable to make sense of my selfish and immature feelings, I take it out on her and a whole slough of klonopin. Corbin and I are doing bad and this is when it should’ve ended.

April 2012 (hah time is funny af) I do some shady shit, but not to the magnitude it was portrayed. Life moves on and I get back with corbin. This is my new person to rely on. I need him bc he stuck thru it with me and gained my whole hearted trust that he loves me, even when ugly and I love him through all of his ugly. We are ugly and we are in love and nothing in the world matters to me anymore besides him.

Oct 2012 I finally am ready to move outta stc. But corbins with me. I beg and beg and beg to please go to Tampa but nah, we go to Miami. It’ll be easier, Adam will take us in. He still is this big mature, always with it guy, I don’t know him, that’s why. We get there, nothing much to even talk about. Great times but eh. Leavin it at that. Shit happens and we get out of dodge like some fuckin thief’s in the night. Drive two days to portland. I won’t get into all the beautiful shit I saw bc that’ll take too long but, here we are.

I live with a naked hippie that is actually psychotic and oh, later on turns out she’s making us pay for a house SHE IS SQUATTING IN. But anyway, things happened (again adam) and we move to the city city. Won’t even get in to the shit that transpired there, but now I’m moving back home.

Feb 2013 (wow really seeing some timelines matching up of my most unpleasant times of my life?!¿¡) so I’m back home. I don’t sleep, I don’t eat. I think I weighed 110 while standing 5’8. My dads on parole, only time I see sunlight is when he needs to meet with his PO. Nicole nurtures me and literally does everything in her power to make me be better, but I am not ready to feel happiness or bond with any other human. I am not ready to move on or up or out. I am stuck. Corbin moves home. Ahhh yes. My safety blanket is back and I can be happy again (hahahah)

So in the meantime while I was sad Nicole and I are partying, late nights to meijer and rite aid, getting high and snacks and shit is just fucking awesome. She meets the love of her life and he takes her and even me in to his whole friend crowd and I am HAPPY and feel bliss again. I have friends? Imagine that. They fall madly in love and then heh, they move. Well shit. Now mind you I have totally capability to see them whenever I please bc Nicole is an open door policy. But truly I’m lazy, I like convenience and still wrapped up in my own stupid bitchass, (that I can now see, but then couldn’t) and it’s back to corbin and I.

So now it’s getting close to end of 2013 and all I pretty much do is spend every waking moment with corbin. I don’t mean to make that sound so awful, then I loved it. Now, it’s all so bleak.

2014 hits. I’m in and out of jobs. Corbin and I live off of pop can returns. I’m still 21 so like, none of that mattered and I didn’t care about a future. He gets a job and I finally get into the courthouse. We start doing ~molly~ heavy. Locking ourselves in a bedroom from Friday-Sunday. Every weekend. When you hear “ecstasy/drugs ruined my sex life” from older people, you don’t really know what to make of that. When I tell you drugs ruined our sex life and our likeness for each other, now I fucking get it. I stopped smoking weed 24/7 bc I was paranoid of losing my job. Not much more to that year or 2015 than chemical pills and being locked in a room and outdoor adventures with my dog.

2016, I finally convince corbin to {for the love of god} attempt to get his license back (which he did, and then ruined again, but that comes later) so we’re really making moves, honestly for us we were doing shit. We had a marker board calendar AND meeting our goals/deadlines !!! His dad gets oxys, and we’ve been borrowing his Vicodin for idk, a year or 3 at this point. This is kinda when things get fuzzy. But oxys come and got damn do they feel good. But only recreational. It wasn’t serious then.

Corbin gets prescribed adderall. Not much more we need to dive in to with that jazz but oxys and addies were all we ate until about the end of 2017. Pills are gone. Let’s fucking driiiiink.

2018

So I developed an alcohol issue at this point. Still battling it to this day. But I don’t really remember much. Did some cool shit, went to Europe. Met a girl that I’ve never loved kissing more. She was nuts. I moved out of our apartment we got together and back home, re-up w/ Rickey, we have fun. He cheats on me with the girl he got pregnant and neglected (they’re engaged now, congrats guys) I’m completely broken and alone because at this point i have managed to push every waking soul away from me and experience the weirdest fucking shit ever that I can only explain as spiritual, or maybe it was satanic. It burned and hurt and scared the ballsacks out of me. Can’t kill your self if you’re a pussy, turns out.

I spent this whole year trying to find friends, wrong crowd. I developed a relationship with a coworker who still to this day has my heart and soul and I love him and will always hope the best. He is the greatest comfort I had but it was only ever from 5pm - until we finished having drinks and sex and then back to being alone. I even confessed my confused love for him and he set me straight. He showed me more about being strong than anyone ever. I love you D.

The end of September I finally meet up with a dude I can’t take my damn eyeballs off for years. I finally mustered up the courage after making excuses for about 2 weeks why I couldnt meet up with him. So I come over. It’s raining so hard. I couldn’t find his house. I just wanted the god damn dick, and go home. He didn’t let that happen.

We see one another mainly every single day except Wednesday’s because he has plans that day every week. I tried my hardest to ghost him multiple times but he didn’t let that happen either. We are both drinking a lot because we are both sad but our company really really reaaaally made up for the sadness. He is the funniest person I’ve ever met and I think he thought that about me too.

November 21st comes and he is being weird and I am constantly nervous around him so I get weird bc I think I did something or he’s gonna tell me to go home, I didn’t know. He finally says he wants to be my man, like full time man. I have a bf? I don’t want one but something about you is fckin freaky you beautiful boy. Everything is coming together.

And here we go: December 21. 1 month is all it took to mess it up.

Leaving my work party, ironically after getting all of my drinks bought for me :) , I go to jail. Jail was not as bad as I expected. I was a good criminal so I got to sit in a different room w/ a tv until shift change. Oh and ! my high school classmate was a worker there so that was neat ! (jesuschrist) anyway; dont have Laynes number memorized, my family and I just watched my grandpa die, gasping for air 10 day prior. Can’t call my mom. Scared to call my dad (who was the nicest of anyone) soooooo corbin it is. I dealt with his jail problems time after time so, his turn I guess.

Welp it’s 2019. Not much to say. Layne stuck through all of it with me and I have no fucking clue why. Got a therapist. Stopped drinking whiskey completely. Bought a vacuum and couch. Live with my way too supportive boyfriend. My family fucking loves him. I am .... growing ? stronger ? mentally ? as every day passes ? because of him ? He teaches me so much about moving on, life and just thinking before doing. Life ain’t that serious. I love you Layne. I completely do. I started alcohol classes and I went in with such a shitty attitude, like I’m better than everyone? (Been my issue for, forever) I fucking love my group sessions. I am for once not alone with the unpopular shit I struggle with. Addiction is so real and I always thought it was a stupid ass excuse for being lazy but hahhhhhh karma loves me.

I’ve been struggling so hard with jenna. I have talked to a handful of people and most have said it’s been blown out of proportion but, don’t hurt your friends. I finally fucking wrapped it up when I got ahold of her, tried to anyway, before Christmas. I explained a lot, now that I’ve had years to sit back and reflect on myself and my bullshit and I can’t blame her (side bar: she still didn’t care lol.) But I am fuckin over it. My feelings got hurt to absolute fuck about some things and instead of being mature, I fucked her over, because I felt fucked over. But I’m sorry, I did that, I take responsibility and best wishes forever but an anvil weight has finally been lifted off my chest and I feel like I can finally move the fuck on and it’s such a great feeling to get rid of something that’s been eating me alive.

So basically, the last two years ate me the fuck alive. This year I meditated on shit. We will see how 2020 goes but I am ready considering what I’ve done to myself, been through and I still am fucking alive and trying. Being a human is dumb but it’s aight sometimes. Getting better. Good luck y’all.

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lolbtsaus · 8 years ago

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Father!Hoseok (Werewolf)

Before I start this, I believe it’s memorial day today so happy memorial’s day, my heart goes out to anyone that has lost a loved one in war<3 And I also wanna say I hope everyone who takes part in it has a happy and safe Ramadan!! And now it’s time for the third member of the hyung line, our hope, our angel who is so fucking cute in all of these interviews I love that he’s still !!! and so positive and happy and smiley like all of this happy!hobi?? This is what I want, I want hobi being happy and healthy and just enjoying life plz and thnx, Jung Hoseok aka J-Hope aka hobi

So there are a few links for werewolf!Hoseok, there is part one (here) which is the description of him as a wolf, part two (here) is him falling in love with a human, there’s the werewolf boyfriend post (here) which describes him as a boyfriend and there’s werewolf!hobii as a father part one (all of the father related posts are here) which is about him and the pregnancy

You don’t have to read any of those to understand this post, you could very easily read this on its own but those other posts are all of the backstory posts for anyone that’s curious or maybe wants to have a werewolf!hobi night

For everyone that hasn’t read the original father!Hobi post, he has three kids, two sons and a daughter, who is the youngest

They are a l w a y s playing

The thing is with three kids, even if one of them is like nah I just wanna cuddle and hang out today I don’t wanna run around rn, you have two others who could possibly be ready to G O

Normally they’re all on the same page though bc if one of them is getting cuddles, they all want cuddles and if one of them is playing, they all wanna play

So you guys do get some days where they wanna do nothing but lay in bed and wear their pajamas and just get lots of love and affection and watch movies

Those are some of hobi’s favorite days bc he lo v e s playing with them so much but he just adores seeing his bbys all snuggled up together and so happy and content with their eyes focused on the movie

And of course he’s got z e r o issues with giving them lots of kisses and hugs and basically not letting them go all day long

Hobi is one of the boys that really loves being in his lil wolfy form so his kids are gonna be exposed to that all the time and sometimes kids mimic what their parents do so it doesn’t take long for them to try out their wolf forms as well

He also goes off into that wolfy state when they’re about to go to bed bc he knows that if he just cuddles them while he’s all fluffy and soft and warm, they’re gonna fall asleep a lot easier and faster than they would if he were to try to do it human

They normally fall asleep in your bed, their heads resting on his paws or his back before you carry them back to their own beds (hobi can’t do it bc if he moves they all wake up and it’s back to step one)

Once they figure out they can be teeny tiny wolves, they’re set they’re gonna be wolves for as long as you’ll allow bc they just love it

They love being able to run faster and play wrestle and just roll around

They get so fucking disappointed when hobi tells them they can’t go all wolf in public bc they wanna show all of their friends and it’s kinda ?? to them at first

Like obviously as they get older they understand but when they’re teeny tiny kids, it’s not as easy to grasp the concept bc they’re so used to being around the pack and being able to go into their wolfy state whenever they want to

But of course they still listen to hobi bc they would look up to him so much and they wanna be just like him when they grow up

There are times where they forget and make a move to turn into their wolf form in public but hobi’s really quick to stop them and he’s really calm about explaining it to them, even if he has to do five times, he's still patient about it bc he remembers when he was a kid and how hard it was to remember not to do it

Full moons with them is just one giant play fest tbh

They’re already really !!! bc hobi is their father so they’re gonna be !! bc that man is such a ray of sunshine and has so much energy and is just so lovely and positive and I’m getting distracted bc he’s just so cute and amazing and I appreciate and love him so fucking much

Back to the point, they have a lot of energy on a normal day so being surrounded by the pack who wanna play and cuddle and hang out and everyone’s running around and howling, they’re gonna get even more energetic

They’re so happy and their tails are going crazy bc they’re!! so!!! excited!!!

They follow hobi around the entire night and you can practically hear the “whatcha doing dad hey where you going can I come” that’s going on in their mind

It doesn’t matter if he’s playing with someone or if he’s just stretching his legs, they’re curious about what he’s up to like is it fun can they do it too

He spends most of the night playing with them and keeping them entertained and amused bc he’s one of the funniest people in the world to them

They’re jumping all around him and one of them’s on his back and another’s standing between his front legs trying to sneak attack the other

Life with three pups can get chaotic at times but hobi loves every second so he’s just so happy to see his lil munchkins playing all around him and he’s so so so in love

It’d been a while since he’d been around a bby pup so hearing their teeny tiny playful growls and their lil howls makes his heart so fucking happy he almost can’t handle it

He asks you to film them howling the next full moon bc he thinks it’s so cute the way they don’t start howling until he does and their howls are so much higher pitched than his and they always stop either too early or too late bc they haven’t figured out the length of the howls yet

Okay so I mentioned in the boyfriend post that Mickey and hobi sometimes get matching accessories like a bow on their head or a ponytail

Bbys get matching bows/ponytails too and there are sometimes themes so like one full moon it’s all polka dot bows the next it’s all pink the next it’s all stripes and

So you see all these big ass wolves with so much strength and speed and then you just see these three tiny pups trotting along behind hobi with their matching bows

Werewolf!hobi as a father is just really playful and loving and always ready to help them with whatever they need help with

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alistairpetersx-blog · 8 years ago

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yooooooooo so i’m scarlet hello hello. i’m one of the admins but that fact is p much irrelevant.

i’m almost 19 and i’m canadian and there’s really nothing else to say about me. i recently just got onto summer break, so i’ll be around quite a bit, though i do go out a lot and have work so forgive me if i’m busy sometimes!! i will do my best though. i’m super excited to start this rp because i’m really excited for my two children. there’s more about them both below!!

so some point-form facts about alistair:

he’s a twenty six year old professional shithead.

just kidding he’s actually a tattoo artist

he has some abandonment issues cause his mom left as a kid but w/e that’s a whole nother story

he’s a pretty charismatic and outgoing guy, but he’s really selfish. like, he rarely ever considers how his actions are going to affect other people. everything he does he does for himself, unless you have that rare opportunity to be someone he really, really cares about. and even then there’s a 50/50 chance he’s not thinking about your feelings when he does something stupid.

he’s also really full of himself and kinda flirty but eh. could be a fuckboy but isn’t really a fuckboy because his whole life doesn’t circle around trying to get girls to sleep with him. it’s just like a bonus.

he dropped out of high school in his junior year so he’s not the smartest cookie in the drawer, but he didn’t live in the greatest neighbourhood growing up so he has a lot of street smarts and is very resourceful.

he doesn’t drink because his dad’s an alcoholic and he takes care of him so he’s like “nah not for me” but he does quite a few drugs.

he kinda boxes? not professionally but he likes to hit things to get rid of pent up aggression so there’s that.

he has a younger brother and half-sister whom try to keep contact with him cause of his mom but he hates them and wants nothing to do with them (especially his brother)

he really likes art and has been jailed once or twice for vandalism

i don’t know what else to say. if you have aymore questions just ask man.

that’s basically it for him. he has a dog named kermit, and he’s a pretty okay guy when you talk to him.

my other character is milo thompson, and i figure it easier to just write about him over here. some facts about him:

he’s really awkward. and i’m not talking about just ha-ha he’s shy and a little quirky awkward (not that there’s anything wrong with that) i mean he’s really bad at talking to other people. he says the wrong things and often struggles to keep up conversations and is just bad at it.

he’s got some insecurity issues where he feels like he’s too incompetent to do anything so he moved out of his house as soon as he could to prove that he CAN be independent and WILL be independent

his family was really overbearing about him growing up and kind of have always treated him like he was a little kid. (even though they loved him lots.) he has two older sisters who are really successful and he was mediocre so he just kinda lived in their shadow his whole life, often forgotten about. he spent a lot of time hiding in his room.

he really, really likes music and comes from a musical family but he can only play basic piano and guitar, so he focuses most of his passion into audio design.

he also really loves movies, especially movie soundtracks (video games too)

he’s struggling to figure out what he wants to go to school for because he JUST graduated high school and has no idea what he wants to do with his life.

he’s struggling to keep up because he just works at a movie theatre for minimum wage but he refuses to ask for help from his family because he’s determined to prove to them that he’s not as incapable as they see him as.

he has a hamster. a really really old hamster that bites a lot.

he’s introverted and doesn’t like to be around people bc he doesn’t know how to deal with them. but he also gets really lonely because he’s never been good at making friends so he’s alone a lot.

he’s gay but probably doesn’t realize it yet. all he knows is that he’s never had a crush on a girl before.

i think that’s the basics about milo. it’ll be easier to see about both my characters when i write up their bios fully.

if you have any plot ideas pals hmu!!! besides that, i’m going to try to message everyone to get some plotting or ideas out on the table. i’m excited to get to know you all!!

#(( & - ooc ))#hazelwood:intro #i'm going out soon too #but i'm so excited to message you all to plot!!#i'm already in love with all your characters so!

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chikotos · 8 years ago

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speaking of That my mom is finally recognizing that when I say “i dont feel good” it doesnt mean i have a cold or sth its that Uh, im probably experiencing suicidal thoughts and cant express it well (or at least smth along those lines) and my house has been dirty cuz i havent cleaned in a while or i cant keep it clean and she n my sister cleaned an area and i repeatedly told her not to bc shes always using my sister to do things im not adequate enough to do on time and its rlly not fair to her even if she doesnt realize it cuz like shes only 12 & we dont ever even talk so she shouldnt have to take care of someone 5 years older than her.. and i was gonna clean but I basically slept all day so i could just clean alone at night when I feel safe to walk around the house . i wasnt even tired idk why i slept but now im eerily awake and maybe will be umless i force myself to sleep

its so lonely here and thats only hit me like this year cuz all the time before I would go through periods of hanging out after school maybe.. twice a year? and only hanging out with one person whod have many friends but theyd b my only friend which is a problem i tend to have. but it jst got to the point where im realizing, i think cuz i was in my schools drama program n exposed to lots of friendships, that im jst like ,really fucking lonely. Which is unfortunate because ive always been such an internal person at home and have been able to work creatively but thats all like leaving me? art doesnt make me happy anymore because i dislike my art so much and havent had a platform to share it in so long and i guess I thrive on other ppls opinions of it? and I definitely cant write anymore. I havent been able to zone in on an interest in MONTHS and thats left me creatively drained, a lot.

I think im starting to rlly, RLLY redirect my complete attention from interests to ppl (which always ends well am i right lads) and it isnt fair to ppl who like, have others and need space and time etc or Uh, dont even know me. but its like a switch like , I can either be creative or i can feel loved and Boy Howdy, do i need both,

its just weird cuz im the only one in my family thats emoitonal like this and I think thats why i feel so isolated. like im not exxagerating when I say my dad has 0 friends tht arent family. my mom has work friends she will hang out with maybe 4 times a year not for work, but shes always complaining abt social situations which I can understand. maybe my siblings r like that too but my sisters young n focuses on minecraft n stuff n hangs out w friends more than me n we barely know each other so its not like id know, maybe my half brother is but whens the last time hes wanted to talk to me right. like i cry all the time and all it does is make my dad angry at memfor being incompetent and make my mom think its her fault and my sister confused and jst takes up everyones time

and its jst all v strange. like i was kinda raised 2 not have friends, inadvertantly i guess. i can remember my mom trying to make me feel better about something along the lines of u can b okay w/out friends if u have family but she jst told me friends dont matter and im never gonna talk to ppl i meet at my age as an adult, so it stuck w/ me and i started to make moral judgements on ppl on small things we could talk out like say, they use homophobic language sometimes but im sure theyd respect me enough to stop, but id make those judgements before we could befriend each other n take a chance, kinda to protect myself from attachments? but later in life ive found ppl who dont do stuff like that, and thats when i focus in on them im an unfair way to them and they r the only person/group of ppl in my life, etc etc and idk how to stop because im so scared of hanging out w/ most ppl alone i guess? but ill still be here, thinking about like example (namedrop bc he doesnt have me tumblr anyways) my friend jacob tht never hung out w/ me outside of school but i fuccin loved that kid n he just stopped talking to me over the summer n ignored my text i send first day of summer and now we see each other and talk briefly but its like he wont let us be friends anymore and smth like this always happens and its So

and tbh how can i expect it to not happen when i limit myself so much n they will have plenty of other close close friends when i dont? and i think ive gotten better but idk anymore.

and uh, unrelated. I think my dog ive had for 12 years may have to end up being put down this year. hes got cataracts in both eyes and skin diseases and back problems and teeth problems (hes inbred) and hes losing his hearing too and for the past two weeks hes been peeing everywhere and we can let him out but he cant climb stairs anymore n he has to walk them to get to our yard and im the only one w/ the patience to pick him up (hes only 8 pounds) n put him in the yard bc my parents will jst scream at him n my sister doesnt like dogs and hes got seperation issues w me and whines when he cant be in my room which is the farthest from the door out n stuff. and its like rlly stressful my mom will scream at him in front of my sister n brother n me and the other day she said my dad grabbed him by the neck and threw him out on the concrete cuz he peed inside and hes so tiny that thats just gonna make everyting worse and its notmlike i can stop them bc why would anyone listen to me and hed prob b fine for s few more years if he lived in a patient house with ppl who would take him to the vet but theyre prob gonna put him down early snd its gonna b so weird w/out him

when i showered earlier i took s razor with me w/ the intent to cut my thighs, and i did a little, but i never ever draw blood wnd its strange. why am i given these urges when im so fucking terrified of blood. itll still leave marks n stuff but it makes me feel weak ? n ill bruise myself up instead but its never the same. and im such an advocate for help w self harm but i cant for myself. its like i subconsciously want 2 get caught ? idk. i did throw my razor away though and the others i have r rusty and im not THAT much of a dumbass so i dont have options to self harm anymore unless i get new ones. lifehack

and uh lol, having no schedule n it being summer my eating habits r SHIT. it always hurts to eat p much, its at different times n most of the time i just snck only or i dont eat for hours n see black spots n stuff. and when i dont eat its not a body image thing (im nt rlly happy w my nody but its not sth not eating will help with) its cuz i dknt wanna go upstairs for food where my dad is n the snacks r downstairs so its easier, or cuz i forget or cuz i like, want to punish myself? but im too lazy to self harm. its weird

n since ive stopped id’ing as ace officially my internalized lesbophobia has gotten so much worse . im so repressed and lost ans sad, nothinng rly makes sense? I either fall in love w/ anyone who flirts with me or i focus on someone who ill never fucking talk to or see again and imagine countless scenarios n set myself up to b sad. i seek validation from ppl on it but nothhing comes out right or i just cant say it, because other than when i make myself the butt of gay jokes i just cant sven get the words out of my throat that im gay cuz im jst so ashamed and disgusted with myself. ive been looking at pictures of guys lately cuz ive been trying to force myself to like them. back when i thought i was pan it always felt safer bc i could always just love a cis guy or whatever and everything would b okay for my family ykno. and its such a shameful thing for me bc my irl friends who im out to, most see me as v confident abt it at least a little bc im loud abt it u kno, and make all sorts of jokes, and i jst know so many would b surprised or like sad abt that

i want to stop liking girls so much. like holy shit. i have so many straight girl friends and i hate it when they flirt with me because lik, none r my type so i feel nothing but then i feel like i shiuld then feel like No i shouldnt then feel like i shouldnt even be around them bc im a gross disgusting creepo dyke predator. n they always use the excuse of me having a gf so its fine id never hit on them well like, now im single so i have to be DOUBLE careful not to b affectionate w them as im w all my friends and itsssssssssssssmjshfjhdjfhsjdhjshdjshdjhsjdhsjhdjshdk

and i like, think abt this girl alot n yea its romantic even thomwe never fucking talked n rlly i do that w lots of girls and its making me lose out on friendships bc i wanna b their friends somehow bc i think theyre very cool n stuff but i cant stop hodling on to stupid daydreams n idealizations i get to distract me when im sad n its jst stupid like i know its dumb but guess whos boutta keeeeeeppppp doin it??!!!!! boy!!!

and i try so damn hard to talk feeling out, n talk abt who im attracted to n stuff w ppl, n i try so hard to gush but i cant cuz smth comes outta my mouth and then i cant speak past that and no one ends up rlly knowing how i feel, bc ANY time i talk abt anytingngay related abt me its what happens. and i listen to others talking abt tht stuff and i jsut get so god damn JEALOUS bc idk how to express myself

all these inadequacies n shit is making it rlly hard to see how,im gonna b on my own n its always been like this. at TWELVE YEARS OLD i came to fhe fucking conclusion that i was just gonna kill myself when i turned 18 so i didnt have to deal with all this and i was OKAY WITH IT and i just went through life knowing that and hiding it and so rarely questioning my inevitable suicide as a childc so instead of dealing with all that n my problems n getting better i let myself get worse cuz uh, fuck it right

idk its all just occured to me how im not a fully functioning human being, in seberal if not all aspects of my life, its weird. now that I actively want to live and realize i uh Kinda have to simce ill b the legal guardian of my brother its all very scary

sorr i was all over the place and all the typos i didnt mean anyof them n im not crytyping like, i cried a bit but i jst hate typing kn thsi shitty tablet keyboard, n dont wanna spellcheck. if u read through comgratulations also please dont message me abt like the self harm junk n my dog n stuff like, whatever ur abt to say. I Know my guy

time to go uhhhhhhhhhhh daydream about impossible gay shit with guilt in the back of my mind

#personal #animal abuse/#self harm/#other stuff probably i guess #nya #its long uhh full disclosure i sjt wanted to feel like i was talkin 2 someone nyall can ignore this

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