#I don't want to have to spring for wireless headphones :<

[the-punforgiven]

I am so deeply tired

[cosplayproblemsposts]

Spray paint

Rumors spread like wildfire, especially the mysterious spraypaint artist struck once again.

Male character x male reader.

(polyamorous)

Staff members gesture first years away from the scene while other students took photos of the newfound mural. The colorful mural sat on the side of the gym "Move along!" teachers call as a swarm of students moves along.

You grin down at your phone as your piece of work blows up "Hey, Y/N over here!" Isaac your library Buddie waves you over to a nearby shelf. "We're are meant to be devoted librarians, not screen zombies" you hobble on the heels of your shoes "Sorry Isaac just a little distracted".

Reorganizing books gave you some form of peace whenever Harry acts like a total twit...let's just say you're his younger brother. Your navy blue phone rings "It's Harry" Isaac looks at your screen. "Thanks, Isaac" you pick up your phone from the table "I'll be right back" Isaac hums.

"What do you want?" Harry groans from the other side of the phone "I just want to know are you stopping by Lunas on the way home". Ugh, Luna smith Harry's little crush "Harry just ask her out!" Harry starts ranting, and for the truth, if he wasn't your brother you would have hung up "Are you done?". Silences that's all you need "Okay, she'll be at your party so just ask her out and stop annoying me!".

End of the call "What a fucking nutta" you took advantage of the little phone call and checked out social media with a grin. "Did you know Y/N gay" you froze once you hear two first-years whisper to each other "I know..." you don't even allow him to finish his sentence for the fear of a certain slur coming out of his mouth. You spin around to face the back of these two first years "WHERE DID YOU HEAR THAT!" the two boys freeze "ANSWER ME!" and of course, they run away.

You felt panic riddle your spine 'it was just a stupid game of spin the bottle' you thought. You practically thrust your bag over your shoulder "Y/N's are you Okay?" you nod and breathed out a yeah and made your leave. "Wait, what about your library duties?" Isaac calls out instead of chasing you "I've to leave".

The sound clicking of you typing for your mother to pick you up while the voice of Harry your older brother kept on playing repeat. "Hey!, Springs is a fag " you felt scared for these were rumors and you didn't know how long they'd been around. Harry's one of the biggest bullies and his your big brother which makes it worst even though you're both a few months apart doesn't mean anything for his still the oldest. Whilst speed walking down the hall you round the corner a little too fast and collided with a fellow student.

"Ah shit, I'm so sorry I was just in a rush and-" Charlie tunes out your rumbling and watches you collect the fallen items. He stares at your lips and how they moved as you ramble on and on "Here!" you present his things to him "Oh, uh...thanks". "Again I'm sorry for uh.." you gesture to the corner and him along with his things "This?...yeah this" you help the curly-haired boy up.

You give him a pat on the shoulder and dash off in a hurry "Bye" Charlie replies to no one.

Wireless headphones in you blast music as you sat in the back as your mother tries to get your attention "Honey!" she lightly taps your knee when she stops at a red light. You remove your headphones the moment you saw her worried eyes "What's wrong? are you going to talk to me or are you gonna leave me in the dark?".

You hum in sync with your shrug "What's bothering you honey and BE honest with me". You hate how she sees through you but then yet again you are just like her in a way "Rumors" she hums and returns to paying attention to the road ahead of her. "I figured, your sitting in the back ignoring your dear old mummy" you groan and flick your eyes to the passing blurs outside your window.

"What kind of rumors?" you place your forehead on the window and sighed so loud it was obnoxious "Did I overreact by texting you?". Your mother shook her head "Don't change the subject and I don't know" you honestly wish Harry wouldn't say anything but your phone says otherwise. "Rumors spreading of me being gay" your mother falls silent and you didn't want this silence and you don't want your phone to make so much noise.

"Well is it a bad thing?" now it's your turn to fall silent "These rumors just states what you fear to be true" if your could you would jump out of the car but you can't. "What are you talking about?" your mother laughs "Now, do you really believe I wouldn't notice something different". "I...I don't know what your talking about" your mothers swats her free hand and giggles like some high school girl which makes you pout "MUM!".

You lift yourself from your leaning position and stare at her "Me and your father notice how different you act with certain boys and girls". You made a noise "And no you are not gay for I know you still like girls and no I know you aren't bisexual, while your father thinks otherwise but you know" you didn't want to talk about these things. "Allow them to talk but no matter what you'll always be my sweet boy and your father is fine with it as well, as long you don't bring back a loud blonde home okay?" you stare at the cell of the car.

Your vision becomes blurry "Hun? are you-" her reflection of her eyes in the review mirror sees you and she heard a small sniffle. "Oh, Honey please don't cry or I'm gonna cry" you tempted to wipe your tears away but nothing happened "I'm sorry Ma" oh great voice cracked.

The night of the party you didn't want to attend Harry's sixteenth birthday at all but your father convinced you and now here you sat with a red plastic cup that you see in movies. Texting your library buddy and friend Isaac Henderson "I've never been bored in my entire life before until now" you whisper your text message before clicking send. The three bubbles appear, signaling his replying "Can't he type faster...please?" you mutter, but the loud music breaks it up into a faint wordless sigh.

The spot next to you sink underneath someone's weight "uh...Hey" an unfamiliar voice says so you swive your attention to the curly-haired boy. The guy you ram into "Hey, corner ramp and I'm truly sorry for bumping into you really" he waves a hand at you "Oh, no need to worry I'm fine". Silence fell over you two and if it wasn't for your phone dinging then you would have felt stupid.

"Your friends with Isaac?" you look at this year ten in the eyes and nod "Well...uh we're more than library buddies" you made him chuckle. "He talks about you and half of the things he says...I don't know if it is true" oh because of Harry "Because of Harry, nope I'm better than him. I promise, here we'll picky swear just to seal the deal".

Timidly he reaches out and sticks out his picky and you do the same "I picky swear I'm nothing like my knob of a brother and you...are Charlie?." Charlie nods. "Charlie now knows half of the stuff Isaac had said is indeed true" you give his picky a little squeeze with the help of your own picky which seals the deal.

Nelson appeared and sat beside Charlie "Charlie and wow why are you talking to him?" Charlie immediately shakes his head. "Oh, no I'm fine, and he is my friend?" Charlie looks at you which made you nod repeatedly.

That night you have grown close to the two which lead to you absently mindedly forgetting what your brother was to you.

"So it's true" you frown at Harry's words while staring at the bowl of cereal "What?". Harry rolls his eyes as if your SUPPOSE to know "You and little Charlie" you grow even more confused and somewhat angry "Charlies my friend". "Well, you better tell him that, it's obvious the rumors aren't true" Harry gestures to you.

"What do you know about friendship" Harry shoots you a look like it was a warning "I'm just saying, mate it's obvious Charlie has feelings for you". 'Why would he assume that? and why is he telling me to dump my only valid and accurate friend?' you thought "You can't say much". "Some of your mates are jerks and their only friends with you because of your money" Harry scoffs "And Charlie's friends with you because he thinks you're a fag like h-".

You didn't allow him to finish his sentence instead you project your breakfast in his face. The whole event replayed in your head: milk and cornflakes drenched your older brother who replied with a left hook. You've never fought your brother before and your parents knew but the yelling of both parties lead to them pealing you off of Harry.

You sat in the library with your headphones full blast and a book overshadowing your face. Two shadows overcast you with concern and with a little tap of Nick's shoe you would have thought it was an illusion at play.

They sat on either side of you on the floor of the library, here you are stuck in the middle, Charlie removes your headphones. "Everyone can hear your music, not gonna lair that's a bit embarrassing" Charlie tries to make you smile or at least chuckle but nothing. Charlie looks at Nick for help so the freckle-infest boy slowly and gently removes the book from the silent boy's face.

Charlie gasps and Nick blinks "I...what happened?" Nick was the first to talk as Charlie scoots a little closer. Nick follows "I'm sorry I didn't mean to lie" both of the boys frowns "what do you mean?".

"About us" Nick makes an 'oh' noise as Charlie finally reaches for your hand "Harry just...I'm sorry".

"Okay, you both have to stop with the s-word," Nick says which made you chuckle, "you think so Nicky". "Your older brother is a knob nothing else, let us be honest he has nothing on you" Nick quips Charlie nods in agreement.

Once again the same scene played out, teachers ushering students away and flashes of phones. Swarm of students waltzing around or being ushered away "I like this piece" Isaac says as you grin. "Of course, three souls made into one" Henderson smiles "You deserve this win, C'mon I'm hungry" you made an 'oh yeah' noise before following after him.

Three skeleton males can be seen holding each other in an embrace of colors and the backdrop of a cotton candy color.

"Three souls made into one"

[blue-disco-lights]

🚄 w e e k ly 🌊 t a g ✨w e d n e s d a y ✈️

Thank you @deedala for putting it together this week! and thanks for the tags @energievie, @creepkinginc, @sam-loves-seb, @lingy910y @michellemisfit @mybrainismelted

_____________________

Name: Julia (or Julia Gulia if you love to quote The Wedding Singer)

Age: if everyone’s doing it… double Nosho plus maybe one more

Location: Pacific Time!

we're going on a trip!!

📍where are we going? Japan (and then I change my departure ticket and just stay backpacking across Asia)

📍whats the weather like there right now? Whatever it usually is when the Cherry Blossom Festival is happening (I think it's soon! so spring?) 

📍are you an over-packer or a light-packer? Fairly light - I know no matter what I pack, I’ll end up wearing the same 2 outfits on rotation 

📍are we taking a plane or a train? Flying (first class, of course, because I make the rules here, right?)

📍early morning departure or an overnight trip? For a long trip like that, overnight (whether i’ll be able to sleep is a whole other story)

📍what song are you playing in the car while we drive to catch our departure? so i remember to come home...

📍we need to grab something on the way, starbucks or dunkin? a whatever they have Starbucks latte, extra hot because I can’t let it get lukewarm while I wait to board - bleh

📍we've made it to the transportation place 🚂✈️! be honest, are we on-time or are we rushing because we're running late? On time, i never trust traffic getting to the airport (which is quite nice, so i don't mind wandering around)

📍are you taking the window seat or the aisle seat? joining the aisle team - just like the movie theater, i hate climbing over people to go to the restroom!

📍we're settled in our seats, are you gonna read or watch a movie/show? a 12+ hour flight and my 100+ open fic tabs and library books on my phone are all glaring at me… so read til my eyes burn/head spins, and then watch a movie

📍what are you reading/watching? let's go with whatever romcom they have on deck in the movie section

📍are you using wireless or wired headphones? If they make you use your phone on the entertainment system, wireless - if it’s fancy and i get a screen, whatever headphones they give me

📍are you going to take a nap or stay awake? reeeeally try to nap, but i’m terrible at those

📍do you want a salty snack or a sweet snack? both?  I’ll take both! but also will need water with those salty ones 

📍we've arrived! are we heading straight to activities or are we gonna rest at the hotel? i’m pretty much ready to explore the minute i get off the plane. i’m too curious to sit still

📍finally, pick a treat to reward yourself for a travel day well done! the jasmin green milk tea boba i’m drinking BELOW

Thank you @michellemisfit @mybrainismelted and @creepkinginc for tagging me in this Pic Crew!

For the record I haven't worn overalls since college, but it's the first outfit i gravitate to in these!

Care to travel and pic crew today? Both or just one your choice! 🪄 @sweetperversiongirl @palepinkgoat @gembu-tortuesouscafeine @jrooc @metalheadmickey @steorie @callivich @darlingian @thepupperino @deathclassic @heymrspatel @crossmydna @gallawitchxx @sweetbee78 @francesrose3 @deathclassic @jessieoneday @krysmiss @ian-galagher @bawlbrayker @ifallonblackdays @vintagelacerosette @stocious @look-i-love-u @mmmichyyy @rereadanon @sleepyfacetoughguy @heymacy @ms-moonlight-inn @suzy-queued

And everyone who sees this post!

[cosmo-lexies]

Dylan Season 1 (2/7)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2: The speed legal limit is too slow, I propose to change it to 120 mph

We carried on to interstate 5. Wooden Town was near. I put on my wireless headphone;  classic country songs that Andrew always had in the car was driving me crazy. I bet he's from the South cause of his music taste and accent, but he never confirms or denies it. Secret agent things, I guess.

He picked up my left headphone. "What do you listen? ... Really, reggaetón."

I got back my headphone and said, "What's the problem? Do you prefer I heard a romantic ballad or something for the style?"

" It's not this. Although you can hear some romantic teen songs," he had changed the mood "and don't know, maybe they encouraged you to look for a girlfriend or boyfriend of your age."

I had a lifeless gaze, "I don't want a relationship, especially with someone of my age. These people want things that I don't want."

"For example? I know, they want to meet you, and you want to be alone. Casual sex with strangers doesn't need that you open up." I didn't think to respond to him. He thought he could get me to play his game, but I wasn't gonna fall this time. "Do you tell your family about your powers or parents?"

"I have a psychologist, don't need that you analyze me. And not; it's better this way." I looked away trying to avoid this conversation.

"The psychologist that sent me reports about you isn't progressing with the therapy."

" Do you hear about doctor-patient privilege?" I said sarcastically.

"This would apply if you go for yourself, not if the juvenile court force you."

"Man, I don't get into trouble, I get passable grades, I have a part-time job, and I go to the shrink session in Portland two times a week. What do you want to me?" I said frustrated.

"Dylan, I want to be well," he started with the good cop approach, "I know that you have had a hard life, but now you have a chance that you need. You are important to me."

"Not, I'm your job."

He took off his sunglasses and glanced at me with his blue eyes. "You're both," he glanced at the road again. "If this life doesn't like you, you have other options. The FAHEA is looking to recruit you; you could get emancipated this way."

"Never do you ask this of me again," Perfect, I was playing his game He knows that I hate this shit of HEA being 'patriotic heroes.'

"Okey, okay. We were already near your house."

"Yo; do you tell them about where you found me?"

"Ahh, not, I won't." He gave me a smirk.  "Remember that you can call me when you need me," he gave me one of his typical cards. There are thousands of theses over my room, but he wouldn't let me get out of the car until I got one.

"I know. Thank you. And I know that I'm important to you."

Andrew tried to help my mother, he rescued me from the street. He found my family and came to see me biweekly. I shouldn't be so moron with him, but he is the only that knows me. And this scare.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3: Dating apps have to be a constitutional right

My aunt's house is the same as every other one in the 'burbs, a standard detached joint. In the town, there is a dentist, some restaurants, one store, and for some reason four casinos. I don't know, don't ask me. Most people are high middle class and work in Portland. The American dream, even though the nearest hospital is thirty minutes by car; although, it isn't a problem for me.

Andrew parked in front of the house. My cousin Elena was with a friend, Victoria. They were making TikToks in the yard. When Victoria saw me, she let up dancing and came towards me.

"Hi, Dylan..." then saw Andrew with surprise "and sir."

"It's my social services worker, ignore him. Do you want anything?" I said friendly.

"Yes. I want to ask something." She touched her hair nervously "Do you have a date for the spring dance?"

"Not," her face lit up "I mean, I don't have because I won't go. I'm not into these things, sorry."

I span, and Andrew was judging me with a glance. I guess because he didn't take off the sunglasses. It was almost night could take the fucking glasses off.

I turn to Victoria and said "But, maybe we can hang up this week. If you want,"

Victoria tilted her head a bit and started playing with her brow hair. "Well, I have to check my schedule, I'll send a DM later."

"Perfect, bye."

Andrew and I continue towards the house. Victoria ran towards Elena and began to tell something.

Inside the house, my aunt and my uncle-in-law were in the kitchen. She was working on the laptop and he cooking dinner.

"Hola, tia. Como estas?" I said. My aunt Luisa loved when I speak Spanish with her because it reminded her of Spain. However, we don't usually speak it because my cousins and my uncle only speak Ingles.

"Hola Dylan," she saw Andrew, "and Mr.Miller. We don't expect you a Sunday," my aunt was tired of Andrew, it was clear.

I guess that a bureaucrat appears in your house about every two weeks without a call before isn't pleasant. Don't get me wrong, she is amazing with me. She tried that I felt at home since the first day; however, the deadpan worker that seems to come to judge you, is a lame extra.

"Dylan can leave us alone. I need to talk with them," he said.

I went up to my room and saw Tomas, Elena's twin, listening to music in his room; he was dancing like he was playing an invisible guitar. When he saw me, closed the door ashamed. He was a total nerd, and I liked this of him. Sometimes I wish I could be as real as him.

I didn't see Mary in her room, so I knew she was in mine. It's one of two problems that my room has. It was the playroom until my arrival; the tv, consoles, and computer are there. There wasn't another site where put a bed to me. For this reason, I had to share it with my cousins. The other big problem is the door, there isn't a door, and it's impossible to install one because of the stairs. Problems with the attics, doesn't have privacy but doesn't bother me, too.

I arrived when Mary was playing with the console dressed in a cape and a crown. I moved slowly to scare her, but she turn to me and stabbed me with a foam-rubber sword. I made like I was bleeding and dropping on my bed. She stood up on my bed and put the sword over my chest.

"The audacity of trying to attack the Queen will cost you a high price."

"I lament it, sorry my ... queen? Wait a sec, you were the Princess yesterday."

"But, the Queens are more powerful than Princesses. And less merciful. You deserve punishment," she sat next to me. "I wanted to play with you after church, but you weren't when we arrived," she said with some sadness

"Sorry, Mary. I was with a friend."

"Okey, but your punishment will be to play Mario Kart with me."

"Indeed, my Queen, although I need a minute to check one thing."

She began to prepare the console while I checked my Instagram. Mark didn't send me anything yet. I entered his profile, but he blocked me. This was weird. I tried to enter Grindr. 'This account has been suspended for policy violations.' Then check Tinder. 'This account has been suspended for policy violations.'

I tried to install other dating apps, but an error message appeared when they were half-downloaded. The dickhead had blocked me in all apps of picking up. I was furious; I wanted to kill him but couldn't, at least in front of my family.

I was waiting while playing with Mary. I shot off to talk to him when I hear the front door open. My aunt, who was still at the door, asked me worriedly, "Dylan, it's night. Where you go?"

"I need to talk about something with Andrew. I come back immediately." He was about to enter the car when he saw me and stopped. "What's wrong with you, man?" I asked.

"You needed less than an hour to realize it."

"You cannot hack my mobile; it's illegal."

"Yes, it is. The other way is to talk about this with your aunt and then she put parental control on your mobile. Do you want this?"

"This's shit. I know how to take care of myself. I don't need that you watch to me like a child."

"First," his fucking enumerations again, "I don't treat you like a child, but this isn't safe, although you're a HEA. Second, you aren't a child but also an adult, you need your rules and limits. Third, this attack of teen rage is absurd, especially in you. I considered you more mature," this last one hurt me. He got into the car and started it. Then he rolled down the window.

"You are punishing me unfairly."

"Dylan, I am not punishing you. You're not ready for this type of relationship and much less with adults. I tried you have a good life, and nothing good can come of these things," he looked into my eyes. "You go on a date with that cute girl from before, don't get in trouble, and maybe you must think about this dance. I'm sure that you would have a good time if you will go. I'll see you in a couple of weeks." He went.

I didn't know what to say after this conversation. He was probably right, or at least a big part of it, but I was super frustrated regardless. I want to yell and break things, also I want to cry.

I really wanna break things, but in my case, I knew that it wasn't an option if I didn't want to end up being arrested for of a bunch soldiers. I broke down and cried.

[pinehutch]

I'm uncommonly, commonly fine.

(I've been here for 12, 13 years. Maybe longer? All signs point to fine, okay, yeah, sure.)

It's so easy to go from "I missed a step" to "I'm lying on the floor, I'm stuck." There are things I don't say, because

I don't want to make them true; I don't want saying them to fix them, firm and permanent

they are unpleasant, off-putting; neither beautiful nor interesting; neither charming nor devastating (just a steady, flourescent hum)

it would be commonly, uncommonly not fine.

What I mean is that: I get no pleasure from my neurodivergence, and I feel nothing but resentment and regret that I waited so late to look into it. What I mean is that: I hate the limitations of my body, the way a straightforward scrape or bump can swell into something that looks like corpse-bloat for an evening, that takes six weeks to properly heal. What I mean is that my resentment and resistance to both the fact and the practice of necessary rest cannot be overstated. What I mean is that I take great joy from the successes of others, but if you talk to me about quantities, rankings, statistics I feel sick and insecure and panicked, and that I think it is a failing of mine that I feel that way. What I mean is that I am generally doing quite well, doing better, that I have been saying yes and pushing forward and removing obstacles and taking chances and it's all very good and invigorating until I miscount the stairs and lurch forward into the windowsill (the windowsill is a metaphor or there are bruises on my shins, or both) and jam and jar every part of me.

Something came unlodged this spring. It started in a notebook. It continued on a table, tears in my eyes and nitrous in my blood. I both know and don't know exactly what it is. It opened me up like a paper target unfolding (this is a joke I make too often, about work; let's add paper targets with my face on them to the change management strategy. It's a pretty fucked up joke). In this new configuration my head is a funnel and it takes in everything, and the terrible freshet runs over and over. A storm is a storm is a storm, you know? Push over the towers, break the connections, blow-up the transformers.

(There is a man who lives in the big house on the corner, across the street, and during the blackout he took to sitting outside with a battery-powered radio, in his driveway, in a lawn chair. It's after midnight now, and raining, and he's out there alone in his aluminum-framed chair with all the lights and sounds in the house behind him. The street is cavernous, two-and-three-storey buildings used for rentals on one side and a steep slope on the other. The man's radio fills the wet echo of my small town downtown after midnight and my anger strikes another mark against me when I need to put on my headphones, the noice-cancelling ones, so that I can hear enough of my own thoughts to continue.)

I'm sipping seltzer from my Sodastream, lemon wedges and lime ones, too. I'm wearing one of three pairs of wireless, noise-cancelling earbuds. (I lose them, and buy more, and find them again eventually. In cute online spaces this is called the ADHD tax.) In the morning I'll get up and do my job where no one screams at me and I'm not currently exposed to any physical danger. I have a wealth of things to read, to watch, to listen to; to enjoy. There are people who love me, uncommonly well and with a degree of grace and patience and willingness that seems so deeply, deeply out-of-step with my own sense of deservingness that one of the long-standing challenges of my life is believing in it. I have credit card debt and vacation plans, trauma and resources, friends and lovers and everything commonly and uncommonly normal -- good, even. I am, for all intents and purposes, more than fine. Stupidly privileged, even.

And still: I miss a step, and split myself open on the bannister. I come apart at the seams. It's not the tripping that's the problem, it's the way I don't always bounce when I fall. This is what I mean when I'm resentful of my neurodivergence, or when I'm angry at my body for being a pretty-able-but-also-actually-disabled body; the response feels out of proportion to the misstep, and it fucks with the narrative that I am trying to control, where I'm aware of my privilege and I use it for good and I hold space for the really important conversations and I get angry in righteous and wholesome ways and it's not about me, and also, where I'm fine.

(Every one of us is here. The man in the lawnchair with his classic rock jams is living a life as big as yours, as big as mine. His interior is as infinitely vast or narrow as anyone's. We are all keeping it together. I know. I know. I only wanted to say it, obliquely, and just the once.)