#i am brain dead bc of two grown men

[redwhiteandmorallygay]

this is actually on loop in my head. my skull is missing my brain bc this video is just echoing repeatedly in it instead.

[croctears]

a part two to this maybe? dk, again this is unedited and i’m trying my hand at a more flowery language. hopefully it isn’t too flowery lolol.

the cultural terms are further explained at the bottom.

Envy, with its tendrils green with jealousy, wraps itself snug around our little beating heart. Yet we continue to let it consume us, basking and boasting in the covetous desires. And again, do we have the capacity to ingest the wants of the human soul?

“They’re so pretty!”

Cherry blossom petals frolicked to the lilt of the wind in merry pink blushes, kissing the tips of her fingers. They slipped by cheekily, never getting caught, leaving only the tickle of velvet left as the aftertaste. Hsien-Chen sighed. It was the first spring since they moved to the capital; the flowers here are different from the ones in the countryside.

Her little sister ran ahead, giggling in glee. Two small buns sat atop her head, thin hair pulled tightly in a clean, smooth updo. The smile stretching across her face was far wider than any of Hsien-Chen’s when she was that age—not that she could remember ever being this carefree. After one fateful meeting with a messenger of Death ( her mother sobbed over her for days, thanking the Heavens and Yánluówáng for being merciful and not taking her daughter away), Hsien-Chen became a silent child.

According to Mama, she’d met Heibai Wuchang, more specifically the white counterpart of the duo; Xiè Bì'ān, the White Guard.

“No, you’re mistaken,” Her mother had shaken her head, frowning at Hsien-Chen’s recounting of the event. “That’s not a woman, and you’re lucky you didn’t meet Fàn Wújiù instead.”

Was she supposed to be grateful? Grateful that the White Guard, Xie, had taught her to make amends and become a better version of whoever she was going to grow up as?

She should be thankful for an opportunity many hadn't had the chance to get.

But why is it still so difficult to be angelic?

Round and round it goes, slippery and thick—soft as the finest silk in China, lithe as the strings of guzheng. Round and round envy goes, around the souls of men. Do we not notice it, or do we take no notice of it?

Hsien-Chen swallowed a lump of saliva lodging in the ridges of her throat. Her hands shook, palms sticky with sweat. Tucking the piece of parchment into the elaborated pieces of her robes, she hurried across the study room, sock-covered feet making no noise against the smooth wooden paneling.

She couldn’t believe she was going to cheat.

On a national exam, no less.

Pinpricks of moisture dotted her forehead, satin clothes sticking to her underarms. Hsien-Chen shook her head firmly.

No, it’s not her fault she’s always second to that Luo family’s brat. They are better off than her parents, providing him with more possibilities and renowned tutors when she only had herself to depend on. Was it wrong to sneak in answers she already read through? It was merely referencing.

Tighter and tighter, over the limbs and minds. Tighter and tighter envy’s fingers gripped our souls, dragging down, down, down. Tight was the constraints, yet our eyes were still clouded with discontent.

“Did you hear? The daughter of the Wang family had four wedding proposals today! One of them is a son of a businessman.” Hsien-Chen’s companion exhaled dreamily. “She’s beautiful, it’s no wonder!”

Hsien-Chen snorted, wringing her arm out of her friend’s hold.

“She’s your neighbour, isn’t she? The Wangs’ young miss.” Her friend asked. An innocent question that made her blood boil to a degree she never knew was possible.

Oh, how Hsien-Chen hated that girl next door. Always adorned with bracelets, necklaces. On her dainty feet always a pair of expensive embroidered shoes, no less than a noblewoman’s. And as if her being spoiled wasn’t enough, the girl was born with such elegant features, big brown eyes, small upturned nose with pink lips.

Oh, how Hsien-Chen hated her. They’re the same age, but Wang Jing appeared to be on a whole other level. And she knew, no matter how hard she tries, she’ll never reach that league. Her chest tightened, breaths coming in short angry heaves.

“She’s fooling around with their gardener’s son.” Hsien-Chen blurted without thinking. Whether it was true or not was up to the discernment of those who heard.

“What?”  A handkerchief covered her friend’s face, widened eyes barely containing the disgust and excitement at the unexpected news. “That’s so wrong! Such a disgrace. Don’t you think people should know about this?”

Hsien-Chen shrugged. “Do what you will.”

Deeper and deeper envy hauls men, smooth and gracious through the waves. Deeper and deeper our beings go, into the sea of envy’s poison. Can we swim, or are we nonchalant with our foreboding demise?

“I wish I never had you!” Hsien-Chen screamed, clutching her head. Hysterics enveloped her, lashing out at the crying boy. Her son. Her older daughter held him protectively, hand rubbing furiously at her tear-streaked face.

A raised hand. A sharp smack. The boy wailed, clutching his red face.

“Mama, stop!”

“You too! I hope you die along with your good-for-nothing father!”

The vase broke, shards flying as Hsien-Chen swept more decorations off the shelves. Her children cried louder and louder and—

“Stop crying! I’m leaving. I’m leaving! I deserve better than this life!” 

The slam of the door silenced the young ones for a moment and Hsien-Chen could feel the cogs of her brain turning again. Children were noisy, or her children were noisy. Lan’s kids were docile beings, same goes for Yi’s twin boys. Filial, gentle souls, unlike hers.

How she despised her children, her simpleton husband.

How she despised her life.

The back room was serene enough for her to collect her thoughts, a tired groan escaping her chapped lips as she sank down to the dusty floor.

Despair. That was the word for what she was feeling.

Despair, resentment, bitterness.

Envy.

“I’m better off dead.”

“Sure you are.”

“Who are you?” She whipped around in shock, clutching her heart. In front of her was a man, young and tall. He had an air of masculine handsomeness, the kind you normally feel around young warriors or generals. An austere smile danced on his thin lips, bulging biceps placing down a heavy-looking mirror in front of her.

“Who are you?” She repeated.

“I believe a mirror was supposed to be delivered here.”

“I believe not.” Hsien-Chen crossed her arms, shooting him her best scowl.

“Are you sure?”

He pulled the cloth off, and the mirror. The mirror was…

The mirror was the exact same one. The one she saw in the storeroom of the old couple her mother worked for. The same mirror Xiè Bì'ān showed her future.

“No,” Hsien-Chen shuddered, backing away from him. “Is this a joke to you?”

“You’ve met my partner, I believe. Xiè Bì'ān.” The man was grim, unsmiling. “I too should believe you know who I am.”

“Fàn Wújiù?” It came out a frightened squeak, quivering with dense fear.

“My partner has a kind soul. Me? Not so much.” The Black Guard of the Heibai Wuchang muttered. “He did warn you many years ago. That was your chance.”

Hsien-Chen fell to her knees. “But my family…”

He laughed scornfully. “Weren’t you wishing they were dead a few minutes ago?”

“Please sir! Please just—,” Hsien-Chen felt tongue-tied. What was she even begging for? A second shot at life? She already knew an opportunity like that, an opportunity many hadn’t had a chance to get would be better off not given to her.

She’d already wasted the first one.

“Is your- is your friend here?”

The Black Guard was stern, but nodded. “Outside.”

And true enough, the White Guard was standing there, hands behind his back. He had seemed like a woman to five-year-old Hsien-Chen, but now, she saw clearly he was a man. Albeit slender with delicate features, his elegant stance was somber once he spotted her.

Hsien-Chen was mildly surprised that he was taller than the other guard.

“It’s your time now child.”

“I know.” Hsien-Chen wrung her hands nervously. “I think I just want to say I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“For wasting your time. You could’ve gone to another child. Maybe they’d listen to you.”

Xiè Bì'ān brushed back his hair. “It was fate. There’s nothing to be done now. Don’t fret.”

Her lips parted, then she closed it again. She could see Manchurian cranes against the orange-daubed skies, fishermen’s songs loud enough for her to hear.

Her husband must be coming home any moment now.

“What would I be if I had listened to you then?” She turned to face the white-clad man, but he refused to answer.

“You have to come now.”

“I guess we are arresting you right now.” Fàn Wújiù nodded to his partner.

Hsien-Chen stretched out her hand, hoping to feel the plush texture of the cherry blossom once more.

“I guess this is it.”

So indeed, the waves roll, swallowing the cries of regret and frantic yelps of realisation. For it is too late if we notice at the brink of death, now may we rest well in the icy comfort of envy’s clasp.

first off, this story takes place during the qing dynasty, after the imperial examinations were passed for women.

 i'm personally not taoist, but had derived lots of taoist myths as inspiration! partly bc i'd grown up listening to these stories (: i hope you learn a thing or two about Chinese culture, though my version in this story is definitely tweaked. 

 Heibai Wuchang is "Black and White Impermanence" literally, and are deities in Chinese folk religion that escorts souls to the underworld. grim reaper, if you may. the white counterpart is Xie Bi'an while the black counterpart is Fan Wujiu. 

 as for Yánluówáng, he's the king of the taoist underworld. the mirror that is referenced in my previous story, Mirror of Retribution is a mirror used by the Yánluówáng to judge dead souls when dealing out punishments.

[abri-chan]

great blog btw, weird question but I think your the best to answer it maybe, what is the deal with Gio's age,he is 15 during Vento but a lot of girls I know who are Jojo fans(mostly manga based ones if that makes a difference) are absolutely horny for him and get angry when I bring up him being 15 during Vento or say well in current day he would be legal now so it doesnt matter or he is drawn older looking, but they are still kinda lusting after him at 15, what are you thoughts on this?

If I remember correctly Giorno does look younger in the way, and everyone is kinda twinkier in it than in the anime, but by the end of the manga he looks a lot like Dio in part 6. Especially that panel where he’s holding the arrow after defeating Diavolo I think?

I think this is not an easy ask to answer, because there are several things to consider.

The important thing is that it’s okay to you feel uncomfortable with them lusting after Giorno. You don’t need an excuse to be uncomfortable and if you feel something is not right, it’s okay to express your dislike or disagreement. I know there has been a lot of pushback against antis but I want to reiterate that being uncomfortable with certain things doesn’t make you an anti. The word is unfortunate because you can be against age-up content (and although I am fine with aged-up, I respect your right to be uncomfortable), but that doesn’t make you an anti in the fandom sense. In the fandom sense of the word, an anti is someone that not only dislikes certain content or wishes the content didn’t exist, but they actively go and harass real people over fictional content. The second part is the critical ingredient to make an anti. As long as you don’t harass others over what they like or dislike, it’s your right to speak against certain content or avoid it.

I understand your discomfort, because I cannot say that fiction never affects reality. I know antis love to use this argument, and the problem is they’re not even wrong. The issue is that they take the relationship between the two to be very simple, when in fact there are academic books and papers dedicated to exploring the relationship. Some things can have a direct and easily measurable correlation: for example diverse fiction representation affects marginalized groups positively. Also the way women are portrayed in the media has a direct effect on how men can view women IRL. But it gets complicated because we have to consider who controls the mainstream narrative: for example pornhub will have more effect on normalizing incest than jonadio fanfiction. Then you also have to consider the purpose of a piece of work or media. For example, I believe writers should be allowed to explore certain topics for the sake of exploring, just as artists can do with colors. So are dead-dove topics used by a writer to explore, cope, instant gratification, shock, pushback? How much power does this writer truly have with regards to their position ins society?

Then there are times where fiction doesn’t really translate into reality: for example, are horror writers out there murdering people? Is thinking of a murder the same as murdering someone irl, is murdering someone in the fiction the same as murder irl? We can get violent and inhibited in videogames bc we know there are not real consequences; but wouldn’t IRL because we know you can’t just hurt someone and reset the game. So while fiction affects reality, and reality affect fictions, it’s not always easy to measure how, and it’s not always linear. Also why banning all taboos or trying to police what people like is doomed to fail bc it takes a very simplistic view on human imagination or psychology.

Returning to Giorno being 15 in the series, the aged-up argument is the easiest one to defend IMO, and one I don’t get why people have problems with. We have aged-up examples of characters in JoJo: Jonathan, Jotaro, and so on. If someone can imagine adult Giorno (and I’ve seen some amazing art of Don Giovanna), they are not lusting after a child... Despite what his canon age is, you can’t argue they’re pedophiles bc they are clearly into an art piece that depicts him as adult. Why would someone think of adult Giorno when seeing teen Giorno? Idk why is Araki concerned with making a handsome man out of teen Jotaro (his words, he’s actually very particular about his characters being attractive)? We have to measure the mangaka and the fans by the same ruler, else we are hypocrites. Sometimes imagination takes you there... but once you see adult Giorno, it’s adult Giorno.

Another thing is that in the anime, and later parts of the manga, the characters do act and look older than their canon age. If no one told me what the ages where in Vento, I’d think the teens were young adults, and the adults were late 20s, early 30s. So while Araki slapped an age onto them; as a viewer it’s hard to detach your experience of seeing characters that look and act like adults from some number that seems to have no grounding in the world. I read somewhere that age in manga is used a lot for marketing: if it’s published in shonen jump and it will be mostly teens reading, you slap a teen age on the characters. But maybe as adults, mangakas have a hard time to imagine actual teens (it’s hard to actually write good children characters, and I suppose it’s hard to write teens too). So they end up with adults, but have to somewhat label the characters as teens to get teenagers to read the story. Let’s take someone that we can all agree looks adult, Risotto. Imagine someone told you that’s a 14 year old boy. You have this abstract information of age, but your eyes tell you that is the face and body of a grown man. So what will be easier to process for your brain?

Sure IRL if you knew Giorno was 15 but he looked adult, you clearly don’t get involved. But since this is fiction, it is possible to detach the concept of Giorno acting and looking like an adult from his actual age, because there are no consequences. The age is very abstract in this case... and I feel that’s why some of these fans are doing. They see someone that acts and looks adult, and it’s silly to claim they are 15, because it doesn’t add up. The reverse is when mainstream anime draws lolis and calls them 100 years old adults... you feel uncomfortable bc even though you are given an age, the visceral aspect it’s that of a child...

Now if these fans really lusted for someone that looks 15, that’s another question. And it’s not the same as people writing underage content... bc we have to consider how it fits within the narrative (anyone remember Game of Thrones?).

[shellheadtmark2]

actually, because i’ve gotten a lot of new mcu mutuals lately, and i need to redo my 616 tony stark care manual bc i wanna tweak it and make some aesthetic changes (because i’m just Like That), things you should probably know because i am actually 616/marvel prime/main continuity-based.  i swear i’ll be serious this time.  maybe.

the original flavor tony is not going to be the same tony you’re used to from the mcu - mcu tony is actually more marvel ultimates inspired, which is a whole kettle of fish unto itself and that i have a verse for, but we’ll get to that at a later date.  instead, meet main continuity tony.

+  he started his path to iron man in a very similar way to mcu tony, in that he was injured by his own weapons (depending on where you pull from the sliding timescale, it’s everything from landmines to micromunitions) that damaged his heart and left him slowly dying.  we all know this story, right?  he built the first iron man to escape and the rest is history.

+  the difference is, main continuity was dependent upon the armor’s chestplate for a few years. the arc reactor ain’t really a thing in 616, instead we have the rt node.  similar in function, only tony could use it to do unibeams without the suit.  anyway, when tony came back, he took on iron man as an alternate identity, and told the world iron man was his bodyguard.  no one knew for a few years there that tony stark - handsome, generous, kind-hearted benefactor of the avengers who opened his home to them - and the metal-clad adventurer known as iron man was the same person.  it took a mishap with molecule man and a tiny red silk thong (no, i’m not kidding) for that little secret to come to light.

+  he was in his very early twenties when he became iron man - much younger than his mcu counterpart, and he’s very, very good at being iron man.

+  his relationship to most of the avengers - and heroes in general - is very different.  his best friend in the entire world is steve rogers - he’s had a captain america memorabilia collection since before the avengers pulled steve out of the ice (which is another thing - the avengers thawed steve, and tony has always idolized him - there’s no resentment there - and steve was not a founding member, he came in after the avengers had already formed).  his other best friend is rhodey, who was his employee-turned-military liason for stark unlimted (formerly known by many other names).  his other other best friend is pepper potts - they’ve never actually been romantically involved.  his other other other best friend was happy hogan, who died a few years back during the nightmare of civil war - which was much more us-based and much more horrific in tony’s universe.  he’s carol danvers’ aa sponsor.  he’s good friends with reed richards.  he’s been friends with stephen strange for years.  he and bucky barnes are fairly close and tony’s the one that got rid of bucky’s trigger words.  he and natasha have dated...ish, and are close.  he was never peter parker’s mentor, as his peter is a full grown adult, but peter did intern for him for a while.  and was on an avengers team with him before civil war.  he, steve, and thor are still the big three, but they have a friendship that’s been forged in the fires of really bad mistakes and they’ve come out the other side still close.  he knows the guardians of the galaxy because he was a guardian for a while during his big vacation in space.  he’s dated more avengers and x-men than you can shake a stick at.  and jarvis for him is edwin jarvis, his living, breathing, now semi-retired butler who served the avengers for many years and is part of the avengers family.

+  he was director of shield for a short time after civil war and steve rogers’ assassination.  he hated the job and he hated steve being dead and he hated what he forced himself to do so bad he literally erased that entire year out of his head.  and to get rid of the database full of superhero secret identities stored in his brain but you can’t tell me he didn’t have a more recent backup without it.

+  his first ai was named homer.  jarvis actually was pepper’s ai, for her rescue suit, and was never tony’s.  friday is and has been his main ai for years, and she has a hologram form.  she mostly runs the day to day stuff that doesn’t require tony to physically be there for the company.  which, also, tony is still ceo, he hasn’t handed that over to anyone, and pulls double fulltime duty as both a working stiff and an avenger.  his eyebags are designer.

+  he was secretary of defense for a year - he got himself elected when he found out someone in military research was reverse engineering and stealing things from the iron man.

+  he’s in his early 40s and looks younger:  being an extremis enhancile for a while and then undergoing a full-body reboot does wonders for the skin, apparently.

+  he’s canonically bisexual.

+  is known for using himself as a lab rat for incorporating experimental technology into his biology.  ask me about the suit he carried in his bones!

+  he’s 6′1 with blue eyes.  that’s, uh.  kind of important to know.  he’s tall.  he’s lanky.  and if you’re not a metahuman he might just can kick your ass, because captain america trained him in hand to hand combat (of which he’s very proud of).

+  the ten rings are literally ten alien rings used by his main archvillain, the mandarin.  they hurt.  a lot.  and he hates when he gets an up close and personal view of them smashing into his face.

+  he’s not as quippy as his mcu counterpart, and instead is more prone to bad puns and rambling awkwardly.  canonically he has depression, anxiety, and ptsd, and struggles with them regularly.  he’s also a recovering alcoholic.

+  take mcu tony’s tech.  then put it on steroids.  then make it the craziest scifi thing you can imagine.  and you’ve got the barest hint of what this tony’s tech is like.  seriously.  ask me about the suit he literally carried inside of himself.  or the time he could control machines with his brain.  616 is wild.

+  he’s been homeless.  and i don’t mean rich people homeless. i mean living on the street, nearly froze to death riding out a blizzard in a doorway and almost lost fingers and toes to frostbite homeless.  tony’s a Rich Boy but one who’s had a taste of how the other half lives on more than one occasion.  he’s also worked a regular nine to five like everyone else and lived in what was...honestly...a really shitty apartment.

+  he’s adopted, and he has a(n adopted) brother named arno.  his bio mom’s a former rockstar, and his bio dad a hydra double agent.  you literally can’t make this shit up.

+  he’s incredibly self destructive and self sacrificing.  if things look hopeless he’ll be the first to offer himself for the pyre.  because he has absolutely horrid self esteem.

+  he’s a liar.  he’s sneaky.  he tends to make decisions for other people without consulting their feelings on the matter - partly because of a tony knows best attitude, but also because there are people in the world he’d do anything, and i mean anything, to keep safe, even if they hate him in the end.  it’s kind of awe inspiring and terrifying if you manage to inspire that level of devotion in tony, because really.  anything.

+  he has a playboy reputation, but he’s anything but.  you either get casual sex out of him?  or you’re married now, sorry, that’s just how it is.  he settles and nests with a vengeance.  he’s one of those people that would love to be happy and safe and loved and married and all that happy shit but doesn’t feel like he’s worthy of it.  his issues with this have issues, to be honest.

+  if you call him in the middle of the night and need an evac and you’re on his People list he will come.  twice in two days.  dropping everything to go to the middle of indiana to do it.  if you are sad and text him about it he will bring you food.  if you don’t answer his texts he will find you and check in on you.  if you feel out of place and adrift he will try to buy your baseball team and move them back to brooklyn to make you happy.  if you die and he can’t cope with your death he will buy your first avengers indenticard for 2mil at an auction because he can’t stand the thought of anyone else having it.  if you’re really special he’ll call you “beloved” and “captain handsome”.  sometimes sweetheart.  please note these things are all canon.

+  he dies a lot.  it’s okay, he gets better.

+  his irrational fears are the dark and cockroaches.  his actual fears are waking up drunk and the suit becoming a coffin.

anyway this is a Lot.  and it’s not even really scratching the surface so.  i’m gonna just drop this on the dash as is.  and you know it helps for me to make dumb lists like this from time to time to refresh things.  anyway, i know it’s a lot!  i know it’s different!  but my (broken) ims and disco (shellhead#8434) are always open for questions and plotting.  and my inbox, too, ig.  so you know.  remember we’ve got a canon multiverse.  it’s real easy for me to drop him in the mcu to make your day annoying.

[cold-iron-burns]

We're living with my partner's family. He and his brothers all have (what is obv to me as an ex MH pro) heavy signs of emotional abuse. They are all back living with their parents (economy is a factor for sure, but their trauma reactions are a massive factor in this case) and one of them was never able to leave (imho there's a ton of completely untreated MI and unsupported autism here and it makes me feel devastated on their behalf that they were/are prevented from getting support; my partner only started getting support for his shit after like a year of letting him know that it's okay and he's not weak for asking for help--and he could reach that place only because he was away from his family for a while and during the initial couple years we were together).

Being in this house is keeping us off the street, but I'm no stranger to emotional abuse; I spent decades in therapy trying to fix my own family of origin abuse and medical neglect (and the two degrees I got trying to pass it forward).

I try to stay out of the way, invisible, which is basically how I spent my childhood (though I am not expected to be their maid, which is different and makes -relatively- pleasant in comparison). When I first moved in here almost a year ago I tried to engage, just to get shut down and shit on about how everything I did wasn't what the father or the other brothers wanted. Provide and prepare a meal? "I don't like this kind of tortilla." "This isn't the brand I eat" "Yes I like shrimp but I don't want to eat it every week!!" (specific foods are a common thing, which I'd be cool with if anyone owned their autism [I'm autistic too, not shitting on situation people here, just lamenting that the entire household is like this and just learned passive aggression as their main communication style and have no idea or don't care that it's kinda garbage to just complain but not, idk, offer any of that info ahead of time or have an actual conversation, even in text, to clarify anything? It's honestly just the delivery/passive aggressive shit that gets me, it's how my mom raised me and I spent fuckin' 20 years unlearning it] where was I? I cleaned wrong (and not bc cleaner choice, I hate strong chemicals), I cooked wrong, buying my partner's mom flowers emasculated his father, apparently wrong (no one has bothered to replace the now months-dead flowers, even though the ones I bought and prepped a few times made her actually fucking smile and talk). So I just fucking stopped trying. It's bad enough that even when they're not being shitty my brain likes to pop flashbacks of csa (mostly bc the father, I can handle the brothers in reasonable doses). Intellectually I'm fairly sure I'm safe, but the parts that remember that stuff can't rely on things like people/adult parts telling them they're safe.

My partner's mom is very sick (which honestly I relate to the above factors, imho she's just ready to check tf out after being a domestic slave; I want to be more supportive of her but honestly I kept getting attacked and I have to take care of me), so this year the men were scrambling to figure out food for Thanksgiving. My partner tried to initiate planning weeks ago, because he knows that they're terrible at this kind of thing. Didn't matter, they still waited until Tuesday the week of to call cracker barrel to cater; of course that didn't work bc that's not how any of this works.

Who planned, sourced, bought, prepared the food? Me and my partner, ofc. But one of them bought a ham and they all fought while prepping it, so I guess they're the saviors of Thanksgiving.

Had to get or make two versions of a bunch of things bc god fuckin forbid they have to eat the GF things that make me less sick. Other households adapt, but sugar and wheat are basically what they live on, so I'm just slowly putting together a mini kitchen in my and my partner's living space (there's no running water, so kudos to him for running 3 gallon containers most every day so I don't have to deal with the men).

Sweet potato, half marshmallow half the way I wanted it (because I'm fucking eating this food too?)

"Ugh, is that coconut? WhO eAtS cOcOnUt On SwEeT pOtaToEs?!?!" This man is like 70, y'all, and he acts like a mean lil brat and everyone just bows to him like he's their fuckin warlock patron.

Who eats coconut on sweet potatoes? The person who decided to buy the fucking sweet potatoes. I'm grateful to my partner for actually putting the topping onto them, because the ire was directed at him and not me. His response was a champion "Half is just marshmallow." Deadpan. Factual, obvious, fuckin statement.

When leaving other partners I realized I missed their family more than I did them (there was one in particular that made me overcome my hatred of holidays while we were together) but this relationship is completely different. Great partner, garbage family.

I wanted to just vent, but also to applaud myself for just not engaging with bullshit or trying to justify anything (in fear I tend to go into lengthy overjustification mode). I waited until everyone got a plate and left, went in the kitchen to get my plate, and fucking went back to the basement (that my partner and I are trying to shape into a workshop and is mostly boxes of shit they haven't looked at in 15 years with our shit on top of them but at least they don't come down here now). I watched youtube. Ate the food my partner and I made. Enjoyed my solitude. As I told my partner, solitude is safety. I didn't force myself to sit at a table with grown ass men who just bitch about everything to be berated about my decisions that had to be made last minute because of their inability to do anything domestic.

If I wanted to sit at a table and smile and nod while getting my head bitten off I'd have called up my family of origin.

Not ideal circumstances, but I took care of myself today. I don't even care if they think I'm a selfish bitch. I'm 36 and I'm finally starting to do things for myself that prevent suffering instead of just having to patch myself up post-abuse.

[wheelthefridge]

in honor of last night having been my last ever shift dishwashing at the same restaurant i’ve been at for the past four years here’s an absurdly long list of random chaotic moments that literally no one asked for that i’ve been compiling since day one:

bj, with a half full gallon of orange juice: this expired two months ago. *pours down drain* that was a long time ago

sam: YOU! I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU!! *carries on normally with no explanation* bj: smack that! that too! smack those vegetables! punch that burger in the nose! chop that bun! bob: no, flick the bun. you have to flick it. 

*bad and boujee playing* bj: walks into kitchen, singing bj: you better know when to hold em, know when to fold em, know when to walk away, know when to run bj: walks out of kitchen, still singing

me: hey can you put the wet floor sign out for me dylan: sure dylan: *slips while putting the sign out* me:

sam: get this- i haven’t smoked pot in like three days and my brain is ready to roll! yeah!

joe: ha! oldest trick in the book i just started writing 

dude @bar: ten percent of people are over 6'1" other dude: what about 6'2"  dude 1: what? no. ten percent of people are OVER 6'1" - so that includes 6'2" dude 2: idk I know a lot of tall guys. taller than me dude 1: what? i’m saying- just- ten percent of everyone in the whole world- you know how many people there are in the world? 7 billion– dude 2: i thought it was six billion  dude 1: no, 7 billion- ten percent of 7 billion—

joe, digging through the trash: i’m just gonna peruse through here,, aaaaannnd….. nope not here me: what’re u looking for Joe: …..a book

didi: is eating a pistachio  katherine: is that sour cream

sam: some dirty whorebag wants two pickles 

joe: sam she am. that’s right. dr seuss wrote a book about her 

katherine: oh my goddd this song is always on i’m so tired of it joe: is it? i don’t think i’ve heard it before carolyn: eh it’s all just one long brazilian song to me

katherine: look at my straw i put it in the pencil sharpener 

sam: i’m on crack cocaine. you heard it here

sam, aggressively putting silverware in the tray: just the way the cookie crumbles me: yeah? sam, fake crying: yes

adele: if you’re ready- sam: what if I’m not bob: too bad. she only cares if she’s ready

something: *breaks* sam: time for the mop. and by mop i mean… this thing *holds up dustpan*

mike: you should go on junior master chef…. and only make fries 

sam, quietly as she speedwalks by me: panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic

sam, beginning of the night: my goal is to make at least forty bucks tonight. hopefully sixty sam, later that night: i’ve made five dollars

sam, pouring a drink into the trash right next to the sink: you know, im not sure why i poured that in the trash. i’ve had a very off day

katherine, after accidentally spraying salsa on herself: i just sprayed salsa all over myself bj: i feel like that too sometimes. i love salsa so much

sam: can you imagine if i did like hardcore drugs how messed up i would be- i’m messed up soberly

someone: what’re you supposed to feed twenty kids  kerry: pizza bj: vodka 

sam: will you let bob know there’s gonna be seven in the snug bj: seven in the snug? that’s my band name. we’re really good

edson: *spins cover on counter and stares at it for solid thirty seconds before putting his finger down to stop it* edson: good. 

sam: what should i draw bj: you should draw casey, hanging from a cliff, with a pterodactyl flying towards them who is on fire, but, seems optimistic about it 

bj: life is too short for low fat cheese. remember that. 

sam, beginning of night, in a really good mood: guess what i’m drunk and high right now  sam, later that night: i was just pouring a beer and i dropped it. like my hand just let go of it sam, end of night: i’m never doing this again 

joe: you know who didn’t clock out yet?? i have two thumbs! joe: ……wait joe: you know who has two thumbs and hasn’t clocked out yet?? this guy!! me: there ya go buddy

bob: i’ve slept fifteen hours in the past four days me: that’s not good bob: yeah

edson: look edson: *holds out hand with top spinning in his palm* *giggles*

sam: i cannot wait for this day to be over  me: it’s barely started  sam: i took a shot before i got here. i have more in my car

bob: hi sam sam: hi bob  didi: hi sam sam: fuck off

joe: her? oh yeah her name is sarah whitaker  katherine: oh i think i know her joe: that’s funny because i just made that up. i’m willing to bet money that she’s nineteen tho me: why joe: bc i overheard her say that she’s nineteen

joe: i’m gonna send you a video but you can’t watch it now it’s needs full attention with headphones and the lights off 

bj: if you lose your hand, don’t replace it with a fork. that would be a bad choice. i know it’s probably the cheapest option, right up there with stick, but just spend the money. 

bj, on a different day: i think if you were to get your hands cut off, getting them replaced with plates would be a very bad idea. you can dig. and you can toss. but that’s about it. no playing the saxophone.  

colby: *doesn’t show up to work* bj: maybe i should leave him a message of just me crying 

katherine: i think an old man just asked me to live with him

sam: wait *pulls celery strings out of her mouth* that just came out of my throat

bob: i’m such a grump tonight. i’m in a good mood i’m just so grumpy.  bob: maybe i’m not in a good mood…

bj, after sending christa downstairs to get liquor for the bar: i put a live cobra down there too so… if she comes back with it dead in her hands…. she’s a champ. and that’s that. 

bj: i had a dog today did you have a dog? me: no bj: oh. well. 

dylan, holding phone camera at joe: hey joe can you pull ur shirt down joe, pulling the collar of his shirt halfway down his chest: yeah like this? dylan, taking picture: yeah thanks 

bj: HI-YAH carley: you’re a ninja!! bj: yes. don’t be alarmed. i only use my powers for good. 

bj, with one bottle in each hand, pouring water in the sink, mimicking cow milking motions: it’s like a cow. mooooooeeeeeeuuuuuhhhhhhgggg aaaaaauuuuuueuejhshhsii. that’s what cows sound like right?

bj: we have a dog, and we’re getting chickens. i’m not really sure why were getting chickens. do i consider myself a farmer? not really. 

bj: we should make a youtube channel of just me saying really random things to you and you not responding to me whatsoever me: mhmm

nancy: I’m sleeping

sam: *pours drink out on counter next to sink* sam: wHAT the FuCK was that!? why did i do that?? i’ve lost it! i’ve hit rock bottom!!

sam: *bends over* ughhhhhhhhhhhhh *straightens up* ok i’m fine

bj: yum! that’s how i rate the soup. two yums up!! *laughs for like a full minute*

sam: i got my motorcycle license over the weekend and now all everyone’s saying to me is “no don’t get a motorcycle they’re so dangerous” like shut the fuck up if i die i die it’s my choice 

bj: i think if i were to be turned into some kind of commercial type of food, if i got turned into a nugget, i think i’d be indignant. i’ve lived my whole life and now i’m a nugget??? “oh i was a great roasted-“ i was a nugget. i was eaten with fries out of a box with a small soda. 

bj: hello everybody. i have arrived. please remain calm.  bob: *screams*

radio: the fastest lawn mower in the world goes up to 150 miles per hour! bob: …….why??

sam: i just meowed in scotty’s face and he was completely unfazed by it. like a full on Meow. 

bob: lemme just touch these live wires with my wet hands  bj: bob has gone offline

katherine: i totally forgot to put their order in for i don’t even know how long me: ……..i’m sure it’ll be fine katherine: i mean, nothing matters, right? right. nothing matters. 

bj: hey did you guys hear that kate: yeah what was that bj: oh i was just yelling……….. about the soup kate: me: katherine: bj: i’ll try to keep it down next time

bob: you sleep a lot when you’re old. it’s just practice for death. getting ready for The Big Sleep. let’s see how do i wanna go out? on my back?? nah not for me. on my front babey! 

didi: hi sam sam: SHUT UP didi, quieter: okay…… sam: i love you  didi: no bj: so you’re a grownup now. that’s means you have to do grown up things, like, pay for dinner and stuff? me: uh huh bj: it’s all downhill from here 

bj: pon pon the van poco. right? me: mhmm bj: probably. i mean. i’m no doctor, but

random woman @ bar: we are the matrix. We. Are. The Matrix. 

bj, to the tune of frosty the snowman: clunkity clunk clunk clunkity clunk clunk look at all this stuff. clunkity clunk clunk clunkity clunk clunk making casey’s job tough! pretty good right?? i just made it up 

bj: *walks into kitchen* YES! that’s all i have to say. that’s it. BOBS killing it. DIDIS killing it. casey MURDERED it. you’re welcome. *walks out of kitchen* bj: today is the second day in a row my dog has eaten my lunch. yesterday and then today. it’s my own fault really bob: well you know what they say about men who like floppy french fries. *doesn’t elaborate*

sam: there’s a toy baby in my section. like just a toy baby taking up a seat in my section. what do i do like do i move the bitch? do i leave her there??

bob, talking to himself: if you get sick tomorrow, just remember. it’s your own fault for eating food off the floor. 

bob, to katherine: no, you don’t have to mop the carpet

bj: cheeeesy. 

laura: if i get through tonight without a heart attack it’ll be incredible. if i do have a heart attack tho just let me go

caldo: *unintelligible yelling* SELLING my BODY for SEX *more unintelligible yelling*

bob: my fathers brother sent all his kids to australia. i guess he figured at least one of them would make it

caldo: i don’t trust people who go out to eat tuna fish

bob: can you make some more guacamole soon we’re running low laura: pulls five (5) avocados from her pockets 

bob: he looks like jesus. well. he looks like what white people think jesus looked like

sam: yeah. Please. eat some more mother Fucking crackers. 

bj: i feel like i gave birth to the eggplant stacks tonight. and honestly? if my child looked like that? i’d be proud. proud to have an eggplant child

bj: alright everybody let’s get the fuf out of here!! i said fuf not f- it’s safe. f u f starts and ends with soft letters no one gets hurt. any word that starts with a soft letter and ends with a hard letter is bad news… i feel like every time i come in here i annoy you guys. casey’s one dumbass comment away from killing me. “hey so what are your thoughts on grass?” “that’s it” *mimics shooting a gun*

ilia: -and the dogs gonna get diabetes- katherine, indignantly: i cleaned it really well!

mickey: i’ll tell you one thing. crack is good. 

sam: some lady just rolled up to the bar, no bra, nipples beamin through the shirt- LETS GET IT!!!!

caldo: *speed walks into kitchen and shotguns a beer over the trash* ok i’m back. i should not have smoked this morning

dom: little kid just picked up a knife and went “oh cool i can stab someone” me, katherine, and sam in unison: good dom: yeah the dad took it away 

sam: my friend was like “why is your go to dance move just to snap” and i was like “i don’t know, i’m white” *shrugs*

bj: someone just asked me if i’m having fun. am i having fun? i don’t know if i’m having fun. there are certainly other things i’d rather be doing right now, but i don’t know if i can definitively say that i’m Not having fun. 

bj: some jobs require Only a ladle bj, thirty seconds later, after walking away and coming back: sometimes, also a funnel

bj, @ laura who’s eating cornbread: you cornbread eating chef!!!  laura: bj: laura: bj: i’m just saying facts in a weird way. you know like you’re in trouble. 

sam: *war cry* *spits out gum* *walks away*

bj: what kind of smoothie? Soup Smoothie!!

katherine: so this woman ordered some hot water so i gave it to her and her husband says you know what that’s for right and i’m like ….to drink? and he says nope! and doesn’t explain so i’m just like ………..okay! and walk away bc i don’t even want to know 

bj: there’s no shame in it! A Grown Man Can Bathe In Yogurt!!!

bj, leaning down very close to to-go box: i love you

bob: anyone want a drink? brian: whatever’s your strongest bob: milk it is

guy at bar: sUE HIM?!?!??? oh i’d sue him yeah

sam: who orders something extra cold?? like, you need to Die now thanks. 

sam: do you dare me to drink this buffalo sauce me: yes laura, walking by: snort it

sam: one more day. just one more day laura: of what sam: waking up

bob: *is trying to explain easter to jewish laura* laura: wait so he died… then he came back to life?? then he died Again??? bob: he died. then he came back just to tell people he was alive. then he said SEE YA and ascended to heaven

sam: i HATE margaritas. i don’t know why i just made myself one. 

bob: wow. i have this overpowering urge to just go home. 

bj, putting back a slotted spoon: this is a bad choice for dressing. a bad choice. 

me: *catches a plate about to fall* bj: woah! smooth moves!! spider-man? maybe. 

danny: so you know how at my other job everyone calls me daddy?

sam: *dumps out two full wine glasses* i fucked up. tell no one. 

me: remember when we used to be able to leave early? bob: no. i think we imagined it. 

danny: i didn’t realize we served DICK here -a few min later- danny: sorry i just got out of work and i’m all fired up

sam: my moms drunk and she won’t go home

bob: hey wasn’t that slang for mari- bj: cocaine. 

bj: *kicks kitchen door open* YEE-HAW!!!!

danny: sorry casey  me: what for  danny: for having to deal with me me: yeah *shrugs* danny: they should pay you more me: yeah

didi: i kill you ilia: do it now didi: no ilia: do it i wanna die

danny, about a burger: we’ve got ourselves a squirter!!

sam: is that a chicken patty  sydney: it’s my dog

sam, on my last night with her: lets get casey TRASHED tonight

sam: are you gonna go dancing in new york didi: yes laura: whore it up

[nabateann]

to all the horrible people on my gc who need to chill and give me time to proofread for capitalization, this is for you.

my askbox is open and depleted so maybe consider dropping a request in?

kid!flintwood with a treehouse, which was made into a muggle au because reasons and ended up having very little treehouse, regrettably

Marcus and Oliver live in a backwater town called Green Billows

there was this kid named Tom years ago who was obsessed with (but bad at) french, so the town was immortalized as “Gonfler Vert” which modulated to “Goinfrer Verrue” which mean “Hog Wart” and damn if the children didn’t find that hilarious

and so the town is called Hogwarts, now, at least by the kids

the grown ups hate it so much but what can they do

the teenagers are too “cool” for that, but they ironically call is “Hogs Mead” because they are lit as shit man they’re Grown Up and Too Cool

they think they’re original & edgy

(no one corrects them)

teenagers, am I right

there are 4 schools in the town, they’re all very small

Small Town Drama happened and no one would talk about it

and everyone involved is now dead but they keep the drama Alive bc honestly their lives are kinda boring

Oliver goes to Godric’s Primary, the elementary school for Gryffindor’s Academy of Excellence

he’s on the little league soccer team as the goalie

it’s his favorite thing to do

little 6 year old Oliver is toddling around with his soccer ball when suddenly a boy grabs it from him

Oliver is stunned

instead of a rational response, he turns to the boy and goes, “do you know how to play?!?” really excited because he wants to play with someone and he thought no one would play with him but now there is someone who wants to play and this is so cool

and Marcus just

“you… want me to play with you?”

he’s ready to scorn Oliver on the first sign of rejection

Oliver just blinks up, wide-eyed, and nods enthusiastically

of course, Oliver’s mother sees him be pushed over, and is slightly worried, but Oliver and Marcus play “soccer” for a good 2 hours, until they really should be heading home for dinner

and she goes over and Oliver’s so excited because he made a new friend, and “where are your parents, Marcus?“

he bites his lip and shuffles his feet and "well, they’re Out Of Town on a Very Important Trip”

and she looks at him and says “well, who brought you here, then?” and looks around and realizes, there is no one else at the field. it’s just the three of them

he explains that his nanny stays at their house but lets him run around while she does the chores, and she let him go to the park today

Mrs. Wood looks at Oliver and decides that this boy is not walking back to his house alone so the three of them go together

Marcus ends up going to Oliver’s for dinner and they have such a Time and it’s wonderful

they play against each other in little league and they’re best friends

when they are like 8 they build a treehouse with Oliver’s father

the Woods kind of surrogate Marcus, who’s a little abrupt, a little brash, and a lot angry, but a genuinely good kid

it makes coming home to an empty house slightly better

because when Catherine had quit his parents hadn’t bothered to find a new nanny, just made sure the groundskeeper would check in with Marcus every few days

they have sleepovers in the treehouse and they are so close

when Oliver’s 11 (Marcus is 12) Oliver realizes that he’s never met Marcus’s parents and–oh God, does Marcus even have a home?

so Marcus takes Oliver over to his for a “play date”

the house is huge and imposing and spotless and dead

Oliver hates it so much

Marcus’s room isn’t much better

it’s sterile, all freshly pressed, with neat corners and white walls and not a thing out of place

Oliver almost makes a joke about ocd until he looks at Marcus, who looks like he’s about to be sick, right there on the pristine hardwood that probably cost more than Olivers entire house

Oliver decides “fuck this” and drags Marcus out of there with his soccer gear

they play until Oliver forgets that horrible house and that horrible silence and sterility and that look on Marcus’s face that he never wants to see again

Marcus hits puberty first, and shoots up

Oliver is pissed because damn it, Flint, I liked looking at your face when we had conversations

to which Marcus looms over him or exaggeratedly crouches with a smirk and his shoulders shake when he laughs and his eyes crinkle in such a cute way and Oliver must be going crazy because Marcus is terrifying and there is nothing cute about his penalty shots

when Oliver hits puberty he gets taller but not as broad and boom! hormones come in and Fuck Up his life and Flint is really weirdly attractive and–shit, Oliver might be gay shit fuck damn he

gay?

cue crisis. his parents aren’t homophobic, neither are his classmates. he doesn’t think.

he starts hanging out less with Marcus, starts hugging him a little less, because damn, what if someone (Marcus) found out that would ruin everything

meanwhile Marcus is on the team at Slytherin Secondary School (SSS, pronounced “(hisses like snake)”) and trying to convince his friends he’s Cool

he starts being a little meaner, a little rougher, starts pushing Oliver away more

and even though they’re both pushing the other away they also are hurt

because the other is pushing them away, and God, are they no longer the most important people in each other’s lives?

Oliver’s freshman year, his first match on Gryffindor’s varsity team against Marcus, they do what they’ve always done

go out for cheap, greasy food after the match, what they’ve been doing since they were 7/8 and playing little league against each other

but talking about this game is dangerous they’re both sooo defensive about it

and worried about what their teammates would say walking in on them like this, eating together, on what looks suspiciously like a date

they explode. right there. in the fucking 5 guys and

its nasty

Oliver says things like “I can’t solve your abandonment issues, Flint, it’s not my fault your parents didn’t love you enough to stick around”

and Marcus says shit like “at least I’m not an annoying little twit who can only talk about one fucking thing. God, you’re such a boring person, Oliver, is anything in your brain not soccer” and

that’s not all but its where each of them hurts most from and they

they’re fierce to each other after that

but not only did Marcus lose Oliver, he also lost any sort of parental figure he may have had

the Woods still invite him over to dinner and Mr. Wood takes him out to baseball games

he and Oliver’s dad got really close bc Mr. Wood was always around the house when Marcus stopped in and stuck around because he had nowhere to go

and so Oliver feels betrayed by his parents and Marcus feels betrayed by his friend and alone

he starts pushing the Woods away and, well, there’s not a whole lot they can do, and as long as he’s happy then it should work out

it doesn’t work out, at all

Marcus and Oliver are vicious to each other during that time

absolutely horrible

until Marcus’s junior year

Marcus’s dad has a heart attack and has to recover

so he’s at home

it’s what Marcus has always wanted, except it’s

it’s horrible

his dad yells and is violent and completely out of control and Marcus has no idea how to deal with that

Marcus is a very confrontational person

eventually they get into a fight so bad that Marcus ends up in the ER with 2 broken ribs and a bruised jawbone and a broken nose after his father pushed him down the stairs and Marcus,,

Marcus swings into a depressive episode

because he’s disappointed his dad when his dad came home to see him, finally cared about him and all he could do was disappoint him

like he’s disappointed Oliver

he stops doing his homework, stops going to practice, even long after his ribs heal

after he spends a week in bed, staring listlessly at the wall, Oliver marches in, shoves soccer gear at him, and says “get up, loser, we’re going running”

Marcus cracks an eye open

“in cleats?”

it takes three hours for Oliver to get Marcus showered and dressed, but they finally make their way down to the soccer field and Oliver plops a ball down at the edge of the penalty box and says “when you get it in 5 times we’ll go home” and Marcus

Marcus is so confident. he’s the starting striker, en route to an ivy probably, he can do this easily

but he hasn’t worked out in a month and a half, and his feet are not listening to his head

it’s fucking brutal, and it takes him two hours to score the required five goals

once he does, he falls down into the dirt

Oliver leaves him there, saying “same time tomorrow, don’t be late” over his shoulder as he leaves

Marcus does not get up the next day, and Oliver comes and drags him out again

and again

and again

until Marcus is getting up on his own and to the pitch

he even starts to look forward to these practice sessions with Oliver

he doesn’t think about the stack of work on his desk getting steadily bigger

(he does, and he starts to work through that, too, but damned if he was going to tell anyone)

eventually he goes back to school, back from “medical leave,” but shooting with Oliver continues

it’s just relegated to the weekends

they’re not fixed

they don’t talk to each other, for one

but it’s an improvement

anythings an improvement to the radio static that had been driving Marcus crazy

and it works

Oliver realized last year that he was hella gay

he tried messing around with his lab partner, Percy, but nothing had come of that

Percy really wasn’t his type anyway

broad shoulders came to mind, but were quickly shoved out

he’s not out, but he’s dealing with the fear, trying to bring it up to his parents slowly, because it’s

it’s hard and anyways it’s not like there’s a reason to at the moment, he’s not exactly dating anyone

Marcus is just trying to avoid his dad but he’s so upset

there must be something wrong with him if the people in his life keep leaving

we all know about what happens to gay men who feel alone

hookup apps in strange cities and high-risk behavior

at the away games during the tournament, Marcus goes completely off the rails

he tries to drown this loneliness in meaningless grindr hookups and alcohol but its not working and he can’t handle this

and then he gets home to find his father in the hospital after another heart attack

the man dies that night and Marcus is selfishly slightly relieved and not much else

and he’s spiraling fast

so is Oliver

nothing in his life is working out

he’s gay

his stats are not where they need to be for recruiters

none of his teammates like him

his grades are subpar

he has like one friend

two if you count Marcus, who still hasn’t forgiven him about the stupid fight his freshman year

and so Oliver is just so alone he throws himself into soccer and ends up almost bowing out his knee

he gets a stern talking-to by his coach

because a blown-out knee is the end of any shot he has at a career and he can’t afford that

the team can’t afford that, not with championships so close

he goes out to their treehouse to sit and look at the stars and think about why

why he’s here, why he’s doing this

it’s intense he gets vvv existential and it kinda hits him that holy shit he’s in love with Marcus

like my boy Oliver goes all the way with all his self-examination and he just realizes it out of nowhere

he doesn’t really do anything about it, but it’s kinda nice to know

their teams play each other in semis and Harry, Oliver’s new midfielder, manages to score the winning goal and they knock Marcus’s team out of the running

Marcus wants to be pissed but honestly? Oliver deserved it

anyways they start patching things up now that it’s the off season and they’re back to their regular off season practices

it’s really lowkey and Marcus stops trying to lose himself in far away cities and starts focusing on the now

and a week after semifinals Marcus gets a call, from Washington can you believe it Oliver they want me

and Oliver’s so happy for him but

he’s not good enough yet for washington, or anything like that, so he throws himself into practice

they become practically inseparable again

everyone on Marcus’s team either hates him or fondly thinks he’s an aloof, avoidant asshole so him not socializing doesn’t do much to morale

one night they’re in Marcus’s house’s kitchen and Marcus is trying to teach Oliver how to cook chicken and all Oliver can see is how good Marcus’s shoulders look in that shirt and shit that’s Oliver’s shirt shit shit and on the one hand it’s so warmingly domestic and on the other hand it’s possibly the most erotic thing Oliver’s ever seen in his 16 years of being on this earth

damn its Flint in a shirt and sweatpants get it together

but he can’t because he’s so Goddamn sappy

then he thinks about how someday there’ll be a woman who gets to see Marcus like this every day, the way he looked when it was just the two of them or at the dinner table, when the weight of the world falls off his shoulders and he lets himself want to be happy

there’s a woman who will get to sit at the counter like Oliver is doing and watch the shifting muscles in Marcus’s back as he cooks

maybe a little girl will run down the stairs laughing with bouncing pigtails and her father’s dimples and Oliver

Oliver wants with an aching that leaves him breathless and hollow and he thinks he chokes something out about the bathroom but he has honestly no idea and he gets the fuck out of there

because it hits him, suddenly, that Marcus is going to have this happy future without him and

Oliver takes the fuck off, runs out of there, and sprints to the soccer field, realizing when he gets there that he’s barefoot, wearing jeans, and phoneless

he sits there and just sobs, and then it starts raining, and he’s miserably sobbing in the rain and damn if that’s not the perfect accompaniment to his thoughts at the moment

after some amount of time a door is flung open next to him and he is bodily hauled into the backseat of a car

Marcus, looking intently forward and very noticeably not at him, grinds out “strip” and what the fuck

this is hardly the most appropriate situation but Oliver gives no shits at that point he’s exhausted

so he does as he’s told and Marcus shoves blankest back at him and he cocoons himself in them, still sniffling as they drive home

he falls asleep on the way back, probably, because the next thing he knows is that he’s waking up in Marcus’s bed and Marcus is reading a book on the sofa with the light streaming in behind him and that really didn’t help anything did it

why was Marcus so unfairly attractive it was, frankly, inconsiderate

anyways they stay at Marcus’s house for a while because “soccer, mom! soccer” and well

soccer

they practice but it’s domestic bliss and hell and Oliver is letting himself hope and it’s so painful and so hard and how the fuck is he supposed to deal with this

meanwhile Marcus is just Shook that Oliver hasn’t left yet, that his sunshine boy (the second he thinks this he decides to never use the term again, and to possibly rinse his brain with bleach) actually wants to spend time with him

Marcus is a puppy underneath all those layers of angst and they gripe at each other all the time and they’re grouchy but

they also have stupid inside jokes and they laugh about dumb cat videos online (although neither will admit to watching them) and they watch shitty action movies to critique them together

Marcus is just so enamored and terrified

he cares about Oliver so much and he knows that Oliver will leave him, just like everyone else, just like he did before

but he’s ignoring that and trying to enjoy the time he has with Oliver right now

anyways their spring break is disgustingly couple-y and the way they act is so gross and it’s just nasty and sweet and all those good things and they just decide to take what they can

they take walks and hold hands and they go to a carnival

they only go on the terrifying roller coasters though because they’re adrenaline junkies and hardcore men who Aren’t Gay

ok maybe not but if anyone says anything then they vehemently deny it

when they get back to school very little changes and no one really mentions anything but??

Marcus picks up Oliver every day???? so theres gotta be something right??????

Oliver looks at them blankly. “yes, we practice soccer together, I told you that.” “right, soccer” “yes, that is the sport I play”

no one’s stupid enough to say anything to Marcus

except Malfoy, the twat, but Marcus knows Oliver knows Potter, so it’s all good

but there’s a $467 pot riding on when they’ll admit they’re dating (winner-takes-all)

Oliver gets shitfaced and confesses to Angelina, Katie, and Alicia one night, and then his entire soccer team knows

they’re creepily good at keeping their mouths shut, but he suspects that’s because Harry’s still too busy with his legal issues to notice anything

one day he’s complaining to Angelina about how unfair it is that Marcus has attractive abs and an attractive personality, because what the fuck Ang that’s so unfair

and Marcus overhears their phone call and is like “ok that’s definitely platonic I mean he’s jealous obv no need to get my hopes up” and

it gets progressively gayer and gayer

they probably end up saying “I love you” to each other or something

every time this happens they think to themselves “I know I mean it romantically but Straight Man McHeteroson does not so don’t make it gay dammit”

and it gets so, so bad that all of their teams are so fed up

cue Operation: Bonfire

Ginny came up with the name. it was the best thing they didn’t all hate, so they kept it

their teams try to get them together, obsessively, and they’re just taking it the wrong way

honestly the Slytherins get in on it because God damn it it’s getting kinda pathetic and it’s not good to have a pathetic loser as your team captain

nothing works

school lets out, and preseason starts in a month

Oliver’s family (his parents and younger siblings) go to Scotland to visit relatives, but Oliver stays behind for soccer

of course, Mrs. Wood sighs, before kissing Oliver’s head and giving Marcus a hug

and Marcus and Oliver are living together again and it’s so disgusting and domestic

Angelina comes over for breakfast and she’s appalled at these two oblivious idiots and gives up on them

she texts Oliver “jesus this is nasty u 2 better work ur shit out”

Oliver sends back a string of emoji that she’s fairly sure were just a keyboard smash

Oliver cracks halfway through week 3

after two and a half weeks of this he’s so fucking done he can’t do this anymore

it might ruin everything but he can’t stand the constant picturing of this woman and their daughter and a happy, middle-aged Marcus being an attentive father and a doting husband and–God, he’s gay

so he kinda blurts it out one day

he still has no idea what he said

Marcus kinda blinks at him

and Oliver runs

but only upstairs. he learned his lesson last time

Marcus stares at the doorway for a good 5 minutes, processing

the first coherent thought he has is “damn, Montague’s going to lord this win over Malfoy for a good year. serves the prick right”

before he realizes what just happened and

why did Oliver run? what??

he’s too tired/hungry for this, so he goes back to sleep like the clueless asshole he is

Oliver tries to avoid Marcus, but he doesn’t have his license yet and he doesn’t want to run the 30 miles home so he just sulks around the house all day

finally Marcus catches him in the kitchen, crowding him from behind and sinking his nose into the crook of Oliver’s neck

Oliver freezes, his finger hovering over the buttons on the microwave, and how do microwaves work, again?

more importantly, why was Marcus????

Marcus mutters, “is this okay?” into the crook of Oliver’s neck and Oliver lets out this super embarrassing, breathy moan

it gets kinda nsfw and I’m too lazy to write that now but I totally will

they don’t fuck then though because it felt kinda like,,, rushing it? and they really didn’t need to

they spend so long at the beginning of their relationship making out and just learning each other’s bodies

neither of them ever thought that they’d get this, so they savor it

honestly they don’t really have sex for like a good 2 years because there are so many other interesting things to do together

like soccer

its gross & nasty just like them

anyways they go to the same college and are gay & happy

Oliver does end up blowing out his knee halfway through his professional career and they adopt a little girl

then another kid

then another

wow suddenly they have like 5 where did they all come from?

then it becomes dogs, and cats, and Oliver never knew what it was like to not live with a loud, happy family and Marcus never wants his children to know a silent house

but he still complains, because dammit Wood we’re not a walking, talking, adopting machine!

thx for listening to this radio broadcast brought to you by me, an independant au machine supported from contributions from readers like you

[dahliias]

hello children it me theye. i am playing my love, my life, dahlia. you can read about my trash monster below n as always pls come plot w me ,,,,, u all know how i feel about plotting 

lmao so. this is dahlia day hayes, aka twin sister to dexter hayes, aka the sensible one

jus call her dahlia . there are nicknames her Favorite People can use (dee namely) but if ur not someone she actively likes she’ll probably pour her drink on you lmao

ok so dahlia is 22, bisexual but its like a men 5 / 95 women thing , like she can appreciate the male form but 100% if u dont eat ur girl out she will 

so dahlia grew up in new york with a really irresponsible mum and a constantly growing family; her dad abandoned her, shes got 5 younger siblings she helped raise, it was a real fun shitshow

basically her entire life up until about 16 was her family -- dexter, her siblings, her mother, she was consumed with morning routines, bedtimes, diapers, sick children, dishes, laundry -- she had almost no personality outside of “caretaker”

except .... dahlia is lowkey p freaking amazing up in her head ? she’s amazing at engineering and math. she can fix microwaves, toasters, ovens, driers, cars, blenders. if something broke in the hayes household, it’s dahlia you’d hear little voices screaming for. 

she also has a calculator up in that head of hers. she’s been doing advanced calc since 8th grade, and senior year she was bored in two different ap math classes.

when she was 16 she decided that she wanted to try to make something of herself. she thought if she could claw her way out of the poverty-stricken mess, she could eventually bring her siblings with her and they could live a good life

so she applied for hundreds, hundreds of scholarships, met with college representatives, took her s.a.ts three times to get her 2300, -- all behind her family’s -- and dexter’s -- back

mid senior year, she found out that, against all odds, she had managed a full scholarship, living costs + relocation fees included, to berkley. with this knowledge, she pushed herself, and graduated with a 4.5.

she didn’t know how to tell her family, so she waited until a family dinner a few nights after her 18th birthday that she’d be leaving them. it broke her heart, but she desperately wanted to pursue her dreams, she wanted to know more about the world, and see more things than just the view from her crowded bedroom. 

she left for berkley in august -- and it was nothing like she expected? it was horrid. overwhelming. her dorm room was too empty. she missed her family. it was like they were inside of her, ripping her to pieces trying to drag her back to them.  she loved berkley, and finally had found a place she truly felt like she could belong and flourish, but she couldn’t handle being so far away from her twin, her babies, and her mother.

during spring break, when she finally saved up through work study to return, she dropped out and stayed with her family again; she hated herself for giving up something she was so excited and passionate about, but she felt like she couldn’t justify leaving her kids just to be selfish

so she adapted. she started working, although illegally, at a little nightclub as a waitress -- it helped, some, that she looked young, because sleezy drunk men were always willing to tip a young-looking blonde a little extra. 

she did a fair bit of illegal shit too -- she stole, she cheated, she pickpocketed, she conned, -- and eventually she ended up in underground fighting

she’s good, too. at first she came home with the shit kicked out of her every night, but she learned to anticipate the throws and learned where to hit to make it hurt, and how to use her body to hurt other people. 

she only fought on the weekends, but it was enough at the time

dahlia also grew angrier. every morning when she got home from a fight at 5 am and had to slather drugstore concealer all over her face to help get the kids up for school and out the door, she hated that -- once a genius with potential -- she let herself become a criminal. 

when dexter left the family, she grew hard; it’s hard to learn that you can’t even trust your family, but she learned that. she started working double-time, with half the time to sleep, waitressing and pickpocketing, fighting in safe rings on the weekends didn’t cut it anymore, so she started to go to rings where she would be pit against grown men; it was riskier, but the pot was much larger. 

eventually, one of the various dads of her siblings came back into their lives and tried to push in as “father,” and her mother, a wreck, let him. he told dahlia he wanted her to work on moving out because she was a bad influence on his kids, and dahlia was furious -- who was this man? a stranger who had left her family in the first place?  she refused, obviously. 

as time went on, the man became more and more aggressive with her, leading to an actual physical fight. she hurt him, and he kicked her out of the house she’d been raising her siblings in basically since she was a first grader.

she had literally no one -- so she took what money she had from the last few weeks, and put it together on a debit card. her plan was stupid and half-baked, but she decided that she would track down her wayward twin and force him to return with her so that she could get back the only purpose she had anymore -- her family.

dahlia’s not a nice girl. she doesn’t pretend to be. she’ll be perfectly cordial and nice, but if you pull a tone with her she’ll go 0 to bitch in ten seconds lmao. 

she’s not afraid of very much at all, and she has literally like four switchblades on her at any given moment, even though she���s definitely dressed like some mannequin at forever 21 lmao

she always has a lighter or a box of matches on her, and when she gets restless or agitated, she starts striking the matches, shaking them out, and throwing them on the ground, or flicking her lighter open and lighting it over and over again

she’s v unimpressed w the male population. thank dexter and her dad for that lmao 99% sure her favorite water bottle dead ass says “male tears” on it

honestly dee is so ?? edgy n mean n tough ?? but she dead ass dresses like any other lil preppy thing w her shorts n skirts n her sheer ass shirt and heeled boots, she loves the hot weather in marbella so far so she’s just like yes please i love shorts and i hate jackets

she had never actually seen the ocean before bc berkley isn’t in beach county, so when she got to marbella and saw the ocean in person the first time she finally found the one thing that scares her and takes her breath away lol

so sometimes she just sits in the sand looking at it bc she hasn’t plucked up the courage to go and play in it yet shes honestly so intimidated by the ocean . she’ll never admit it bc she is the Man Of The House but still 

it took her a while to hunt down her brother, she started in france and ended up here via hitch hiking and sneaking into trains, she has no fear its insane , so she’s probs only been in town like 2 weeks. 

she’s currently staying at a lil youth hostel so she only really has a nice army backpack full of three or four mismatched outfits and a toothbrush and a phone + charger that only works w wifi. she’s stealing toiletries from tourists and makes a living pickpocketing atm 

she’s probably going 2 be too easy to convince to kick back bc she hasnt had a goddamn day off in 4 years

when shes mad move anything breakable out of the way and do not stand close to a bar because she will throw a beer bottle at your head and she will destroy everything you own

the only ppl in the world who see any gentility to her are her baby siblings and they’re not here are they ????? 

if she Adopts u she will show u how soft and sweet and lowkey maternal she can be, but otherwise nah

i genuinely am so brain dead now i cannot think of many plots but i have 3 i really want below so pls:

someone who she can stay with in the longterm -- just because she’s gonna be here for a while and there’s only so long she can pay the fees to stay at a youth hostel and live out of a bag honestly she’s gonna want to buy a bra and wash it regularly; i’d love if these two actually get along well whatever that means. like she’s not a horrible roommate bc shes spent her whole life cleaning up after other ppl but she’ll probs steal ur clothes bc shes not gonna buy her own lol

someone who can help her just fucking unwind for two seconds like girl needs to chill i swear ?? like get her drunk. get her to actually stand in the ocean. let her listen to music and eat good food. she’s never got to be a teenager, she needs that

a person who lowkey caught her with their wallet in her hand and was like dude wyd?? and instead of throwing a punch or calling The Law Enforcement Officers they actually stopped for a sec n now the two are unlikely bffs and they are her Emotional Support even tho shes mean and bitchy and likely is gonna be like “sad??? sad?????? i do not feel that emotion. nut the fuck up.  ‘sad.’ what a pussy”

[strapcats]

Thicker than Water (Part 10)

↬ Genre: Gang au, angst, drama, eventual fluff

↬ Pairing: Jeongin x Chan

↬ Word Count: 2,482

↬ Description: Dépaysement- (n.) When someone is taken out of their own familiar world and pushed into a new one.

–

Yang Jeongin is a young Busan runaway with a sharp tongue.

Bang Chan is the easily-offended leader of a crime syndicate.

Read on Wattpad // Read on Archive

Part(s) One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

“God you’re an idiot. It’s only been five months and you’ve already forgotten the shit that I’ve been drilling into your brain since middle school?” Woojin spoke clearly, roughly wrapping his leader’s shoulder in higher quality, cleaner gauze after he stitched up his gunshot wound better than he had on the bus. Chan rolled his eyes and winced a little as the medic’s hand brushed the injury again and again. He grimaced.

“Oh god and that poor boy! He saw you get shot and he honestly thought you were in bad enough shape that he needed to save you! I won’t complain about it, but now because of your recklessness, we’re going to have to help him move past the mild PTSS and he’ll be afraid to pick up a gun, and every time he sees you he’ll probably wince at the memory, you won’t have the same relationship ever again…” Woojin rambled on in concern for both parties involved as he bustled around gathering a glass of water and a couple different types of pills. He handed them to Chan and the leader took them in silence before sighing a little.

“What am I supposed to do about it, Woojin? He’s the idiot that jumped after me, I didn’t ask for that. In fact, I asked him specifically to stay out of sight but now Ring knows we have him and they also know he’s stupidly impulsive. I should’ve just left him here. No, actually, I should’ve left him in the snow.” The leader was fuming with frustration, spewing acidic words without thinking first. He started to get up from his seat on the bed but was stopped harshly when the back of his best friend’s hand collided with his cheek. He hissed in pain, as he had a couple scratches already and shifted his jaw before looking back up at the slightly older man. He was furious, and Chan had only seen him this way a couple of times before, so it shook him a little bit.

“You disgust me. Your emotions are so out of control and you don’t even see it. That boy is worth so much to you that you’re pushing him away because you don’t want him to get hurt. In doing that, you’re hurting him more than you realize, Chan. Get your act together, and start acting like the leader we all need, especially him.” The taller man spoke angrily, spitting his venomous words at his leader before moving away and opening the door to the medical room, then stepping aside and motioning for Chan to get out. The black haired man groaned as he stood up, the sling his arm was in swinging a little bit, then shooting daggers into Woojin as he walked out the door. He heard it slide closed behind him and sighed a little bit.

What does he know? He’s not the leader of Korea’s best crime syndicate. He doesn’t look out for 8 other men every single day. He just patches people up when things get rough. He doesn’t know anything about my feelings, especially towards Jeongin. I’m giving him tough love! It builds character… Chan’s thoughts were loud as he walked towards his bedroom. He mumbled a little bit but as he rounded the corner into the hallway, he heard light laughter coming from the first room. The door wasn’t closed, which was odd, considering the youngest member’s door often was. The leader peeked his head in, and what he saw made his heart simultaneously do somersaults and sink to the floor. It was an odd sensation.

Jeongin was giggling loudly, trying to cover his smiling face with his hands, acting a little shy about the size of his smile. He was sat cross-legged on the bed opposite Felix, whose eyes were sparkling with wonder at the younger boy in front of him. Felix’s eyes were a little crinkled up, as he was smiling just as wide as his younger counterpart more at him than at whatever joke had just been made. Chan’s body moved without thinking and he knocked lightly on the open door frame. Jeongin looked towards the sound, and his eyes went hazy when he saw Chan. The shorter boy slowly got off the bed and walked to Chan, his hazel green eyes looking him up in down in inspection, his eyes staying fixed on Chan no matter how he moved. Felix had turned around and now seemed a little stiff, his posture straightening itself and his smile dropping immediately. Chan moved his gaze away from Felix and back to Jeongin, who was now rather close to him, with tears in his eyes. He reached a shaking hand out and lightly touched his leaders injured shoulder, causing the taller man to flinch a little bit, but not away.

“Is it hurting?” The youngest member managed to whimper out one sentence in question of his leader, and in response, Chan nodded solemnly. Jeongin’s hand darted away from the injured shoulder as soon as he had his response, fear of hurting his elder. His hazel eyes dropped to the ground, studying the pair’s feet like they were the most interesting things in the world. Chan sighed a little and used his good arm to grab the younger boy and pull him into his own body, hugging him close and letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as Jeongin’s arms wrapped delicately around him as well. The smaller boy was shaking and he felt a few tears leak into his thin thermal shirt. The youngest clearly hadn’t ever dealt with loss firsthand. Felix slid past them and out of the room, casting his eyes down as he did and closing the door behind him.

“Fox, you didn’t really think I would be gone from a hit like that, did you? You should have a little more faith in me than that.” Chan chuckled out, making Jeongin laugh sadly. Woojin hadn’t informed him of the shock that he was in, probably for a reason. Jeongin pulled back a little and Chan ruffled his hair playfully, making Jeongin smile forlornly.

The younger boy looked to be in rough shape. His eyes were red from crying, and not just from the present situation. His black hair was messed up, but significantly more tangled and knotty than it would be if he had tousled it intentionally. He had on a pair of gray capri sweats and a tight v-neck tee with ¾ sleeves. Chan could see the outline of massive industrial-level bandages on his sides, though he was sure there were some on his legs as well. He also had a small cut on his cheek, very similar to the one the younger had given his leader previously. The cut looked deeper than just skin deep, and had two butterfly bandages across it to keep it closed. Chan felt sorry, he had caused the young boy’s pain. Woojin’s words started to ring in his ears, but he pushed away the thoughts, as well as pushing Jeongin away lightly and stepping back from the boy. Hurt flashed in his eyes but he smiled softly to cover it up and then walked away, Jeongin following until they hit the door where he shut it after the leader left. Once outside Chan let out another invisible sigh before straightening up and heading to his office.

On the other side of the door, Jeongin drooped his head against the cold sheet metal, his forehead hitting it a little harder than he anticipated, but he didn’t react. He was expecting more from his encounter with the leader, though at the same time he wasn’t expecting anything. The man was complex and contradictory, but it seemed like everything he did was purposeful in some way, like he was playing towards an endgame. He caused a whole slew of emotions every time he encountered the youngest member, from infatuation and wonder to endless frustration and angry isolation. It seemed as if anything he said would later be turned against him, whether positive or negative. It was absolutely infuriating to Jeongin, especially when he had people like Seungmin and Felix who stood by him and trusted him, despite his inexperience and youth. They were truly his friends, even people like Woojin and Jisung had grown on him and had become something more like friends than Chan; who was supposed to be his first mentor and most trusted colleague. Instead, Jeongin never looked to him for guidance and often found himself blindly following him like a lost dog. The young boy had no idea what to do about his emotions or how to handle his leader.

---

Minutes passed into hours and before he realized, the light filtering into Jeongin’s dusty room shifted from sunlight to moonlight. The young boy had just been resting since his encounter with Chan earlier. He phased in and out of consciousness while watching TV shows, he was very relaxed, as he was ignoring any problems with BC. He checked the time and was about to roll over to fall back into light sleep, but then his stomach began to yell at him, cursing him out and begging for food. Jeongin rolled his eyes and rolled out of bed lazily before opening his bedroom door and wandering into the kitchen. Once there, he was surprised to see Chan on the couch, lazing about much like Jeongin had been earlier. The older man didn’t move from his place, nor did he turn around to acknowledge Jeongin’s presence, he only lifted a hand lightly a waved as the youngest entered his space.

Jeongin felt out of place. Chan was laying on the couch reading a book as thick as a pillow. The words on the white page were in English, so Jeongin couldn’t even pretend to understand the book. The older was eerily silent, seemingly not caring that Jeongin was now making a ruckus in the kitchen to get hot chocolate and some leftover tteokbokki, though it didn’t reheat very well. Jeongin chose to ignore his leader, much like how he thought the elder was doing to him. He was dead wrong.

Chan was doing anything but ignoring his maknae. He was studying him silently from behind his book, observing his movements and finding himself nearly in awe at the way he simply moved. He stood on his tiptoes to reach a mug on the top shelf, though he really didn’t have to. His delicate fingers ripped open the hot cocoa packet and then shuffled around the pantry for marshmallows. He poured hot milk into the cup and mixed his drink thoroughly before plopping the small sugary cylinders into the steaming mug. He reheated the meal in the microwave, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he waited for the timer to end, yet he stopped it a second early so he wouldn’t have to hear the beeps. The curly-haired man was so lost in his thoughts that he hardly heard when Jeongin offered to make him some hot cocoa as well.

“Hyung? Are you in there?” the maknae spoke softly, a playful tone riding on his words. Chan nodded a couple times and Jeongin turned back to the counter. He got out the marshmallows once again, and Chan decided to stand up. The older male reached the kitchen and then grabbed his favorite mug from the top shelf just as Jeongin was about to, leaving the two standing very close face to face. Chan kept his eyes locked with the gradually reddening boy in front of him and handed him the mug before stepping back. Jeongin nodded a little in thanks. Chan sat on a bar stool at the island in the middle of the kitchen, returning to his state of Jeongin observation. Except this time, Jeongin felt the older’s deep chocolate eyes burning into him as he moved.

The air was thick with unknown tension and Jeongin felt under pressure. He turned around with his leader’s cocoa made, sliding it across the island before leaning on the side opposite BC. They sipped the cocoa in silence, seemingly doing nothing but staring at each other. Jeongin eventually tucked nito and then finished his leftovers, breaking the eye contact in order to place his dish in the sink. Chan thought he was going to return to their previous position, but instead he went and sat on the couch, casually leaning into one corner and placing his mug on his leg lightly like he was inviting Chan to sit with him. The oldest obliged.

“Chan, why do you treat me differently?” The young boy seemed to lose all his confidence once he had to actually speak to his leader, his gaze immediately shifting to the cracked cement floor underneath the sofa. Chan shrugged.

“Because you are different.” His answer wasn’t one Jeongin was hoping for, nor did it give any level of clarification to the situation. The youngest rolled his eyes a little and sighed unconsciously.

“If you have something to say, Yang, then say it. I don’t have time for games.” Chan spoke again, cooly, sharply. His tone startled Jeongin, who wasn’t expecting such a harsh response from his superior. He took a small breath to collect his thoughts before responding.

“I want to know why I’m different. I’m just another bullshit castout runaway who fell into the wrong kind of business, just like everyone else in this god damn warehouse. And yet, you treat me like dirt one night and like your best friend the next. You’re up and down and every time I try to understand you I feel like I’m running in endless circles. I can never get anywhere with you so at this point I’m ready to give up trying.” Jeongin spoke gravely, his voice a bit scratchier than it normally was. His eyes were still cast to the floor but the emotion in his voice was enough for a million facial expressions. Chan’s heart ripped a little bit. He knew his mistakes, of course he did.

Chan didn’t speak. Jeongin didn’t either. After about two minutes of silence, Jeongin finally worked up the courage to look at the older man. And not just view him, but really, really, look at him. His eyes were tired. He had purple circles under them and his lids drooped slightly. His hair was in disarray, he had a bandage across his nose where he had been scratched by the asphalt. He had a form-fitting white tee on, close enough to his body to see the faint outline of his toned abdomen muscles, but more importantly, the outline of the massive bandage across his shoulder. His arm should be in a sling but Woojin wasn’t here to scold him, so it sat alone on the coffee table. His black sweatpants sat low on his hips, exposing the hem of his Calvin Klein boxers, and his white socks covered his feet, save a few holes from overwear.

He was beyond beautiful, and Jeongin felt like he could begin hyperventilating at just the thought of Chan being more than a mildly psychotic gang leader. Any other way, and Jeongin was sure they’d be together. Chan could be a barista, making lattes and sending out kind smiles, or he could be a college student that Jeongin crashed into one day on the way to class. He could be a wrong number text turned right, or a long-forgotten penpal that Jeongin happened to remember. Instead of all these things, though, he was a cold, calculating, blood-thirsty druglord, and Jeongin was his runner. Not his regular at the cafe, not a cheeky underclassman, not a handsome stranger discovered over text or an old spark relit. He was insignificant and replaceable, and Chan was high and mighty. He was a genius, always knowing the right moves to make and always having a backup plan. Always having an escape route. Jeongin didn’t have one of those, so he was walking right into a trap and he was accepting it willingly. Deep inside, he knew Felix liked him. He knew Woojin cared for his wellbeing a little more than the other members. He knew Changbin and Jisung really enjoyed his presence under all their tough. But with Chan, his doubt still chewed away at his psyche like a shark.

“You think too much, Fox.” Was all that Chan said before leaning to get his hot chocolate, wincing as he went. Once he sat back in his regular position Jeongin looked him dead in the eyes. The younger’s hazel orbs had an oceanic storm raging within them, a flurry of every emotion Chan was too scared to understand. The storm seemed to stop all at once though, and before he knew it, Jeongin’s soft lips were on his cheek. Then, the younger got up without looking back and walked back to his room, muttering a ‘goodnight, Chan’ as he went. The boy’s hot cocoa was still sitting on the table, slowly losing heat. And for the first time in a very long time, Bang Chan blushed.

[houseofkooks]

a Mess

everything is such a mess right now, seriously.

i have a final on thurs for physio and after that im done but it’s gonna suck bc the final is cumulative and it’s just gonna be so much material. i’m waiting for my abnormal psych class to get approved for the online one and i hope it does or else i’ll have to go into lecture and be stuck here until june

and this whole application system. i’m supposed to find out about wes tern any time this week, if not as early as tomorrow. and the one in sf should be any time this week too.

this week is just. too many make or break points and my weak weak heart and soul can’t handle all of this adding onto each other

like what am i gonna do if i don’t get in?

this isn’t even like college when i had so many backup schools

my backup school has lower odds than my first-choice right now and i only have. two choices.

what am i gonna do? i don’t even want to think about it

i’ve gone so far as to check the forum to see if anyone’s updated their acceptance statuses (a place i’ve avoided like the plague up until now bc it’s just Too Much to have to look at other people’s stats) and it’s just. so unhealthy. i wake up randomly and just can’t go back to sleep bc i keep thinking about my interviews and my apps and what i should’ve done better.

and it’s just. not working out ok it’s not working out.

my period keeps coming every two weeks and i feel like i’m just constantly pmsing and constantly bleeding like REALLY even my body has to be against me too. it’s like my body and my brain are both fighting against my survival and it is NO BUENO ok my will is not strong enough to withstand both.

and the biggest Mess of them all?? this fucking country.

i try going on fb and twitter and tumblr to distract myself and politics are EVERYWHERE and rightfully so because people are outraged, rightfully so. society has always been cruel. mankind is inherently selfish. but when did it become okay for us americans-- who pride ourselves on the freedom we have, who boast the diversity in our country, who teach our kids about the “melting pot” our society has grown into-- when did it become okay for us to turn others away from our country? especially those who desperately need us, those who have no other choice but to flee their own countries.

such a big fucking mess.

my family came here bc our country’s economy was dwindling, and because my parents deemed the education system too stressful for me. if that was enough reason to immigrate, what about these muslim citizens and refugees?

“The refugees impacted by today’s decision are among the world’s most vulnerable people — women, children, and men — who are simply trying to find a safe place to live after fleeing unfathomable violence and loss”

to us, it’s an article. it’s a reason to be angry and disappointed etc. etc., but to them it’s a death sentence. and what is there to do right now? honestly i don’t know... i don’t know what to do for them and it just. it makes me lose faith (lol in what? humanity i guess? faith in basic human decency? whatever shred there might’ve been left? i dunno i had a tiny amount of misplaced hope) and generally just so, so frustrated. on top of all the frustrations that are already in my life. but really compared to them, my problems are literally LITERALLY first world problems and i feel ashamed to be complaining about my own sorry ass when there’s all these people who have much Realer things to worry about in life. i just don’t know what to do in general, and i’ve just been humming “LOST MY WAY WAY EH EH EH EH EH EH EH” bc honestly what the fuck. i’m so lost in my life and in my place in this world. i want to do SOMETHING. i want to go do something productive like volunteering or writing letters or protesting. but like i said, my sorry ass is too entrenched in my own worries for my own life and i feel no motivation. none whatsoever. so really this is just all one big ironic piece of bullshit bc i care too much and not enough at the same time. i want to do everything and nothing at the same time. what do i do? i just want this week to be over and then i can pick myself back up? provided i hear good news from one of the schools bc lol idk where i’ll be if i get rejected from both. i wish i could do something but right now i’m just stuck in so much fear and denial :( 

and the sad thing is that this isn’t even the end of it. there’s so much to be done, so much that i could be doing if i could just get my head outta my ass. it seems like trump is going to carry out the shit he talked about in his campaign, and who’s going to protect those people then? what’s going to happen to our country then? i just watched a video on a story about an iranian gay couple that met in the military. they just recently got married and now live in seattle, where they help muslim LGBTQ teens that recently immigrated so they can get used to the cultural shock. it’s so cute. it’s such a beautiful and amazing (love) story. but it’s also sad because of how much struggling they had to go through, and how many obstacles they still face. the part where he talks about how he would love to tell his family, esp his mom, about how he’s happily married, but he can’t bc his family will probably disown him. it just. broke my heart.

why can’t people just be kind to each other? why would anyone let hate walk all over love? love, true love, to me, is so rare. so, so rare. why can’t people protect it like the precious thing it is? there are enough terrible things in the world like cancers and poverty and natural disasters. why can’t people just be kind to one another? why are people so dead set on forcing their own values onto others? it’s all so upsetting and frustrating and, just, disconcerting. because i don’t understand any of it. and it’s just mind-boggling. like literally my head feels like it’s going to explode. or implode? either way it’s a mess a mess a mESS