#i no longer have that mental block when it comes to math

[eddis-not-eeddis]

HAH! Aced the math portion of my exam! Messed up once, because I mixed up how many feet were in a mile. (I put in the amount of square feet in an acre instead. -_- In my defense however, that was memory error and not actual math.) It was all fairly easy math, but as someone who literally sobbed her heart out over percentages in high-school and had to pay the entirety of her month's salary for a math tutor, I feel accomplished.

[macawritesupdates]

Writing Update 8/29/2024

Back to work full-time and off my break so writing updates have become slower! Still going to push onward with big fic updates u_u

Requests are on hold a bit, working at them, but at a rather slow pace as I want to finish up some longer fics and one-shots first <3

STORY UPDATES!

Seven Days to Fall in Love ends tonight! I have it done and working on edits to post it and bring that quick fic to an end. I feel the ending is a touch rushed, but I'm also running out of steam on it, so giving it an ending I feel wraps everything up nicely c: Malevolence of love is 50% done for next chapter. Going to be working on this one to finish it out before the end of September! I have it planned out, just need to get it written. I want to give it some love and bring it to its angsty conclusion 83

Can't Help a Cuddle/Jealous is a Bad Friend BOTH are nearly done and I'm very happy with how they both are coming out! There is some big emotional feels in both that I'm happy with how they played out and just the scenes in general <3 I hope they meet the expectations of all the suggestions given!

Cuddle is a bit harder as I got over twenty suggestions to weave into a coherent narrative, but think I did it justice!

Lessons in Accidental Seduction is nearly done! Finishing up the last scene <3

Spouse Wanted has me possessed and I just write out chapters and edit them in a sitting because I'm giggly over it

Who's a Good Boy is making good progress, as well as Broken in the Ways No One Can See. So should see those maybe next weekish? Depends on how well I write the rest of the week. I've just been on a ROLL for want to write and inspiration! The Yuuji Files has slowed down after writing the silly Toji being forced to look for a job scene....but I think once I get some other long fics cleared, will make it easier to focus on this one <3

Careful What you Joke About is being completely redone for this next arc. I have taken it apart and been redoing the outline for the final two arcs for better flow and to hit the points better. I think it will be a much more solid end when done <3

Mirrored Lives....going to sit down and rehash the ending and figure it out as I think my mental block on it is just dissatisfaction with a few things. MHA ACADAMIA FICS

Jealousy is Not a Good Friend Updates soon and I'm starting to poke at Unsung Heroes again! I SO WANT TO WRITE IT but it is on a backburner for when other things clear up! ONE-SHOTS Pull Me Along if I Can’t Move Forward (MHA: Bakugo/Deku): On a slow boat to getting done haha! But it is still being written! Heatwaves and Curses Don't Mix: A one-shot PWP of Nobara, Yuuji, and Sukuna :b That's it. When You Suddenly Get Another Grandson: The poll idea winner after doing the math.... told from Wasuke's POV of Yuuji suddenly showing up with a moody second twin after eating some mummified finger at school. Desperate Prom Date: Giftfic for an awesome person on twitter who has wanted this story so much.... writing it as thank you for comments and nice art c:

FUTURE FICS TO COME Culturally Insensitive: The sequel to Historically Inaccurate with Yuuji and Sukuna trying to figure things out while meeting with others who have their own possessions going on. Follows along the Culling Game Arc.

Blossoms Born on the Dragon Mountain: The Dragon AU c: Law Meets Disorder: STILL working on it 8I it is a very complicated work to get through. Going to def let some of the big fics finish before it goes out

A Sukuna/Nobara Fic...just feeling the mood to write some more about em :b

[satocidal]

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐞 𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖

— 𝐴𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑒<3

(factual speed run!): Rome is — 18, South Asian, entp (7w8), favourite colour? Red and Gold but what’ll you do anyways…she/her, a full-time-student—STEM, raging bisexual, bilingual. This is, as per my indecisiveness, a multi fandom blog now hehe

˚ ༘💭⋆｡˚ — (what’s goin’ on in that gorgeous brain of yours?): Rome is thinking — of her husbands and wives<3 especially of Suguru Geto because just about men who hate your guts and will also rearrange them for you makes me horny. In an eternal poly relationship with SatoSugu and honourable mentions to my side bae Shoko.

(music that is blessed!): Rome Listens to — Hozier, Mitski, Cavetown, Artic Monkeys, Lost Stories, Zeph, Nanku, The Yellow Diaries, Neighbourhood, Young The Giants, Catfish and the bottlemen, Hoosiers, pat!d, lumineers, one direction, Lorde, Mother Mother, Wallows, Girl in Red, Marina, Alec Benjamin

— 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑠:

—my general likes: coffee and tea, vanilla scented things, sour candies, psychological thriller, mangas, maths and physics and classic literature, drama, random silly little debates on mundane topics, star-gazing, watching sun-rise, organised phones, raspberries, men who are smarter than, women who are stronger than me, late night walks, hot showers, watching people do makeup (because I can’t), doing my hair, dancing, silly little skirts, caramel flavoured things, pasta, baking, a lot- like a lot of academic validation&lt;3

—my general dislikes: conservatives(or that’s still ok but don’t come @ me with your views),furries, chemistry, people who shove their opinions into others, misogynists, rad fems, gabi haters, sadly- eren💀; incels, homophobes and islamophobes; any sort of discrimination

— 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑊𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠:-

—What I will write:

most genres at any given time- angst, fluff, smut. I do accept requests and will write anything ranging from drabbles and Headcanons to longer fics (+2k words); I do age up all my characters (given I mostly write for adults anyways) even if there’s no smut; I am fine with most kinks too, just check what I don’t write for a heads up.

It may that you sent a request and I never worked on it or maybe even said I would and then nothing ever happened, I’m sorry but sometimes that’s how it is. Often I don’t have enough motivation and I’m an ask-hoarder so even as I write, I have month old asks stored in—it’s nothing personal at all in fact I may just corporate your ask/request/thirst in a longer fic as I please (sorry not sorry my love)

I’m fine with writing angsty stuff too, blood and gore, character deaths, polyamory, character x reader x character or character x reader; I usually write Fem! Reader unless requested otherwise (I’m not experienced much with Male! Reader though);

my reader inserts are always fem! Bodied and devoid of any other particular physical features (may sometimes be defined as chubby but yes); dub-con; concept of physical/mental abuse (works will be properly tagged or trigger warned)

—What I won’t write: water sports; monster fucking(may hold exceptions); omegaverse; indulgence in bodily fluids (except blood and cum); rape; non-con; pedophilia; incest, any kind of discrimination; scat; lolli-con

—What fandoms I work on: Shinjeki no Kyojin; Boku no hero piko; Jujutsu kaisen; Haikyuu!!; Tokyo Revengers; Bungo Stray Dogs

“Rules”:

i love terms of endearment and use them indiscriminately so if there’s an issue, do lemme know and I do talk a lot in general but don’t barge into my inbox with slurs or “bitch/slut/whore” when and if we don’t know each other)

Do not, I repeat, do NOT bring discourse to my blog <3 about other writers, my mutuals or anything

It may be that I make you uncomfortable or vice versa, in which case I do encourage talking it out and voicing your issue but if you’re not big on that, soft-block and hard-blocks are ok with no hard feelings because I’m huge on curating your own experience

If you wanting to hard-block/soft-block me, it’s ok but please by all accords don’t leave me following you because that’s just weird

don’t send hate because 1. It doesn’t matter to me 2. I’ve better things to deal with and you look stupid

𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑒’𝑠 𝐻𝑢𝑠𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠:-

— Geto Suguru, Satoru Gojo, Hanma Shuji, Rindou Haitani, Kokonoi Hajime, Jean Kirsten, Erwin Smith, Nanami Kento, Oikawa, Kuroo, Chuuya and Fukuzawa + I’ll find more <3

[calmlythrilling]

GET TO KNOW ME MEME

Name: Prinny, or on a very select few gaming platforms, Ele Pronouns: She/he/they Sexuality: I prefer to not label it Single/Taken: Taken, I think it's been 5 years? (i'm horrible with time)

THREE FACTS

- I technically made one singular game sprite for a pokemon fangame when I was in highschool. - I really like ciphers. I blame Gravity Falls, genuinely. The one cipher I've never seem to get right is Affine. It uses two different algebraic equations and it frustrates me to no end that I was in advanced math classes but never could properly understand how to use those equations. Every now and again I try again anyway to understand. Affine's my mortal enemy and I will defeat her one day. - I own like thirty different Olaf related Things. As in the Frozen snowman, yes. My favorite is this off putting garden gnome you could only nab at Kmart. Here's a picture of one if you're curious on what it looks like. I love talking about him.

EXPERIENCE

HOW LONG - Since out of the womb. I'm...almost not kidding, preschool age I did a lot of "playing pretend" and it was usually as pokemon with this one other pokemon obsessed kid, and at the time I was really obsessed with Chatot. Otherwise, my brother really liked starting up larp sessions with his nerf toys well into 7th grade I want to guess. For text based roleplay I'd have to guess when I was about 10 or so - parents gave me early access to facebook and at that time undertale was really popular.

WHAT PLATFORMS - Facebook was my first one, and then after that was either deviantart or minecraft - I don't really recall. After that I went to discord for rps and eventually twitter, and now I write on here!

BEST EXPERIENCE - Discord was really good functions wise if that makes sense(the organization you can put into it seperate chatrooms themed roleplays stuff like that) but I think I met the wrong group of people - they had it drilled into me for a WHILE that writing characters from canons was the equivalent of stealing someone else's stuff and you deserved to be bashed for doing such. You could only ever write and make ocs. If you wanted to write a canon character they endorsed just using the guy as a faceclaim and using a different name though! Twitter was where I have met my current friend group, and that has to count for something I think. Tumblr's has been the best in terms of people though.

MUSE TYPE

FEMALE OR MALE - Males. I guess my favorite types of characters tend to be men? As a kid I always loved the neurodivergent coded nerds or those that said they just say they were inventors, scientists, journalists, etc, or those labelled as evil/villains. The media I watch typically have these guys be men.

FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT - if anyone comes to me anymore about writing smut i think I'd just block them on the spot. I think otherwise I tend to write angst over fluff - even though writing angst can make me worry more over not writing properly, if that makes sense.

PLOT OR MEMES - memes. 100%. I can plot if needed but once that's been done I find myself having a lot of anxiety about "doing it right" and it's worse with plotted dynamics - I think I rush them because I know the end goal is X thing. With memes I find myself a lot less worried - I go with the flow and just writing on instinct and find myself more focused on getting the reply done and what could happen in the future - maybe this, or this, or this.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES - I find myself writing longer replies whether I want to or not. For others, though, I just want a length I can respond to - I never really want people to both trying to match my length.

BEST TIME TO WRITE - I'm at my computer and phone a lot, so I think I'm pretty flexible? It's moreso however the day goes for me, if I end up sick or if my mood is really low or if I'm just mentally exhausted. So I can't really say for certain. I do have more struggles when it's winter though - seasonal depression issues - so hopefully when summer comes about it won't be so severe.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSES? - Half of the time I don't like answering this - I don't like being told I'm just like my villain muses, my anxiety tries enough to convince me I'm a terrible person when I'm likely not, so for mental sanity I will be saying no in regards to those people. There's my other half of muses though that are like Stanford or Zane, that I'm a lot more comfortable with saying yes I am like them, even if just a little bit.

[cosmicangel888]

The Illusion of OWNERSHIP ~ Lower Vibrational Wounds

None own you

Such are about the illusion of greed, envy, jealousy, lack of self, limitations, soul lessons that can only shift you out of 3D - all souls get to choose.

None claim you

None have authority over you, your life, your consciousness, energy or any other aspect of you -

Period.

I have had tormenting dreams of certain energies chasing me through timelines, and through realities and in the many forms that I have taken, there are those energies that will (all based on their consciousness ) treat you as a dependent factor of their reality - life, existence which is deep inner sickness and no sense of self, and reliance on outer protections, outer projections, outer chasing for what will only be within - however all have to get there on their own.

The Heavens, the realms, all dimensions know the tabulation of what occurs in every soul, every spirit, every form and how they choose to behave against free will in any and all ways; it is tabulated as soul karma - and until the person, form, consciousness and entity goes within for the inner recalibration and reharmonization of itself with self; union of soul fragments, the timelines, the soul fragments, soul aspects will remain in stagnancy of consciousness '

If you do not do the healing to where you soul sits, now, all other threads of harm, damage, wounding will not harmonize and psychosis and mental, emotional, physical disease will rot - for the self now has the most powerful option to heal all other aspects; you are in charge.

I know that those chasing me to take, to steal, to make me and force me to be in a reality that I simply am abused, taken from, enslaved and as I move on - others will see, know, and the wounded and toxic ways in which life is, can be, not meant to be, and how illusions, black magic, manipulation and deceit will be the rot all bodies, souls sit in and until they choose to heal -

It will always be this, and knowing that crime, corruption, abuse, violence, is not necessary ~

#healing is - the past for me is closed and done;

The past is all forgiven and irreparable - = move on and close all doors.

I never be chased again; I have healed and reclaimed all that those or the energy I emmitted of being taken from - as a soul I am free and sovereign and the only way my energy and life will be given is if I offer it and invite; none that are not invited will not enter.

Period; I will no longer be tormented by the lack, and co-dependence, and wounding of others - I have healed and I am liberated. Thank you God,

Unity and Oneness of self. My soul is free.

Consciousness is everything - without the soul healing - none can ascend and pass through the gates, choose money over love, then one will be stuck in the material realm of money and what that offers, or not - however abundance is not abundance without love;

Love is abundance and light is all life - so you can do the math and again, when all are at their death bed, none will ever say, admit, and know at a soul level,

'I am so happy that I chose money over love and soul healing and self mastery'

I am a teacher, healer, and author -

Sing creation into being and honour yourself enough to take yourself out of suffocating, abusive environments - and groups, people and send all the best, and honour all - you are not others answers for a healing life and a healed life;

TRUST WHAT YOU SEE, KNOW & FEEL

Never sell yourself, or have anyone that is deceitful on your team - for they will be taking your energy and your ideas and some that have done such in the past - the illusions and how shapeshifters, narcists will manipulate stories, lies, narratives to fit their agenda of usually selfish gain- -even after they have stolen and ruined your life over an over they will come back and try it again with a new spin, send people in, send in spying, and fake clients - some simply will choose to not heal but take and steal -

Keep the door closed, block and sever all ties of past damage and pain, suffering; you can choose to walk away and never open the door; have them work out what ONENESS is - as you move on in your healing.

You deserve great things - allow others to know their place and their own strength in healing their lives;

Encourage, Empower, Inspire all to know all is within

#5Dliving #5Dlifestyle

#5Dnewearth #God #source

#healinghumanity #healingourchildren

#Gaia #healingtrauma #healingabuse

Blessings of divine self design

You are all you need and know that God, Source, Creation will never hide, nor allow any to think they have such power or authority over this, to show, be seen, be known what is simply meant to be; expansion of all creation is bar none what writes and merely connect and attach with that vibration of eternal youth and growth -

God is

Joanna

JoannaCosmicAngel@yahoo.com ~ DONATIONS - see our PayPal link here; paypal.me/JoannaLRoss

#ascension #enlightenment #Awakening

[exceptionallyacceptingghost]

I know in one post I glazed over the fact that my mom was a violent alcoholic. I don’t like to talk about it and sometimes it doesn’t feel real. The truth is, my mom was/is a very sweet person. She had a bunch of traumatic things happen to her in her life and the last straw was her mom’s sudden death. My grandmother was killed in a car accident. A woman was late to work and went around the car in front of her on a blind hill. My grandmother was on the other side of that blind hill and she was murdered by accident. Manslaughter to you. To me, it was murder. Before this, her dad died (cancer) and her brother died (murdered, but- actual murder because he was a rough guy who knew bad people). She was date raped. Her first marriage was miserable, because she would walk in on her husband in bed with someone else. She grew up in the rual south with four brothers, so whatever comes with that too. She didn’t finish high school and no one cared, because then women were supposed to get married and have kids. She was told she “didn’t need to know math”.

So it’s not like she just loved to drink or something. She was mentally ill and no one understood it and no one helped her. She would drink and get violent. Mostly around Christmas (a trigger for her). I spent my Christmases hiding from her in the bathroom. Christmas sucked. Holidays in general triggered her. She would shove my brother. We had dings all over the house from her damaging it. The glass door had to be replaced. The cops were called. We always cleaned it up in the morning while she slept it off. My parents were constantly threatening to leave each other, my dad had always “had enough” and didn’t know how much longer he could take it. He never left though. He always stayed and so did she. I think this was actually damaging to my brother and I, because we learned to put up with so much shit and let other people mistreat us.

I couldn’t wait to get out of the house. I was out as soon as I could be. I never wanted to go back. People would say “oh I said the same thing, but I moved back one day because I ran out of money” and I thought, “you don’t understand”. Luckily, I never had to go back. I was working second shift at a call center to keep myself from going back. It didn’t stop when I moved out. She would get drunk and text me- such mean things. Sometimes she’d call. I learned you could silence your phone at night, because if you think she called during waking hours, I’ve got news for you. 2am sometimes.

Mom would call me names. Kick me out of the house. Lock me out. I’d hide or run away. One day, I waited in the snow for a boyfriend to pick me up. I walked several blocks up the street and hid in my neighbors front door area. My toes stung from the cold. I got into his truck and he drove me one hour away to his place. My dad would find out the next day and have me come home. I ran away to a church and they wouldn’t help. I told the school and they sent me home with a pamphlet for my mom, which- I got in huge trouble for. She was too hung over to get my nails done with me for my wedding.

I eventually got therapy. I processed my emotions. I remember crying and the therapist had me picture myself as a 14 year old girl. Now, “where would you go if you could? It could be imaginary, it could be Hogwarts”. I said “just somewhere normal with a normal mom where I can do my homework in peace”.

My son is two. My mom stopped drinking after my gender reveal party. Part of me feels happy that I can have a normal relationship with a normal mom. I was willing to sweep everything under the rug and I totally did. I want a normal life so badly and I was willing to just take it as the opportunity presented itself. This always comes up though. You can’t get away from this. It’s part of you. While other people tell fond memories of Christmas or go on about their holiday traditions, I just sit there and be happy for them. I don’t want to bring everyone down with my family’s holiday “tradition”. “Oh yes, Christmas. My mom has too many beers or wine. We would hide the fire arms while she was in the sunroom so no one would get shot. Then I would hide in the bathroom as my brother would try to stop her from getting in her car and driving away. She’d push him and hit my dad. She would eventually win and drive off and we would have no idea where she went! I’d try to console my dad and brother. They would try to console me. Then, in the morning, we’d be forced to pretend none of it happened while my mom carried on. Such a fun tradition!!”

I spent years researching mental health and psychology, trying to find out what was wrong with my mom. Why was she like this? There had to be a reason. I studied everything. In my late 20s is when I finally landed on PTSD and apparently she already knew that… so did my dad. Wtf? No one thought to tell us? We could have helped her. I didn’t have to do all that studying. I could have just studied up on how to help someone with PTSD.

I would escape any chance I got. It was always with a boy. Some boy would drive me somewhere or over to their house. I would do my homework at the counter while someone’s mom would make cookies. I would find ways to have a normal life. I mostly relied on boyfriends. If you look at my dating history, all guys had a nice mom. The dad would be a jerk or worse, but the mom was always on point. Which was ok, I didn’t need a dad. My dad was actually pretty awesome. EAG

[sun-moon-stars-jedi]

So, I have this idea for a Batfam time travel fanfic that starts when Jason, Tim and Damian are somehow teamed up for a mission (the disaster is practically inevitable from the beginning, but everyone else was either busy or injured, so Bruce had to begrudgingly send them out together) and just as you would expect, something goes terribly wrong.

Later Jason will say it was Tim’s fault because his cape got in the way and tripped Jason up, Tim will say Damian pushed him into Jason’s path so it was really Damian’s fault, and Damian will say that it was a reflection from Jason’s dumb helmet that blinded him and made him stumble into Tim, but regardless of what really happened, they somehow land right in the path of the strange ray gun their villain-of-the-week is wielding and are all hit by something that looks and sounds and feels like a bolt of lightning.

When they wake up, miraculously still alive and only a little bit sore, the warehouse around them is empty, their comms are dead, and once they make their way outside they quickly realize they’re in a Gotham years before their time.

Now, there are of course some very strict rules regarding time-travel and interacting with people they know in the past, but as their luck would have it, their entrance wasn’t exactly subtle (even in Gotham people notice lightning and thunder whithout a thunderstorm), and before they can even make it a block away from the warehouse Batman and Robin swing down from the rooftops and confront them.

Batman of course does his whole “Who are you and what do you want in my city” thing, complete with the growly voice and intimidating loom, but it’s not like that can faze any of his kids after all this time.

No, what gets to them, particularly Tim and Damian, is the teeny version of Dick standing next to Bruce. He can’t be any older than 11 or 12, and while Tim and Damian had both seen pictures and heard the stories, seeing their older brother standing as tall as he can (which isn’t all that tall even compared to them) in his bright yellow cape and the short pants next to Batman...well, can anyone really blame them for bursting out laughing?

That’s of course not the reaction Batman and Robin expect, and for a few seconds they just seem to freeze up in the face of these new costumed...cosplayers?? criminals?? vigilantes?? who are just laughing their asses off when faced with the dynamic duo.

Jason is the only one who doesn’t fall into hysterics (he can’t start laughing; he wore the short pants too and would only open himself up to even more ridicule in the future than he would already undoubtedly get from the two little twerps), and he’s also not stunned with surprise, because he knows exactly what’s going on here.

So, as the only capable person around (what else is new) he barks at Tim and Damian to cut it out and behave professionally. They’re on a mission after all, and they don’t want to antagonize Batman and Robin, do they?

Surprisingly they listen, Tim even mumbles somewhat of an apology at Robin, who still looks kind of sulky, but accepts it after a nudge from Batman.

Then there’s an awkward silence where both sides just look each other over, though it’s not as hostile as it was before, and with some quick mental math on how much he can tell Bruce Jason starts to explain that they’re also a vigilante team like them and don’t want any trouble, they had only made their way into Gotham because they’d tracked a lead.

Jason keeps everything deliberately vague and doesn’t mention the time-travel (he’s not even sure if Bruce and Dick had encountered something like it at this point and he absolutely doesn’t want to get thrown into Arkham because they think he’s delusional), but apparently his answers satisfy Bruce, because he loosens his stance and nods in approval.

Bruce asks if they need any help, what kind of case they’re working on, what their code-names are - they all have to come up with something fast here, because obviously Red Hood, Red Robin and Robin are precisely the worst names they could give Bruce and Dick in this time, so Jason calls himself Arsenal, Tim says Drake (still the worst name Jason has ever heard) and Damian says Flamebird, which is pretty cute Jason has to admit, though he will still definetly tease his brother about his choice once they’re back home.

It’s only when Bruce asks “And how long are you and your sons planning to stay in the city?” that Jason realizes Bruce thinks they’re a father/son(s) crime-fighting team the same as him and Dick and before he can think better of it he says “Not long.” in answer and leaves the other part of the question uncorrected, even though he can practically feel two pairs of eyes burning into his back with indignation.

The conversation moves on and somehow there never seems to be a good opportunity to rectify that, and so they eventually part ways with Bruce and Dick, planning to meet again the next night to exchange information.

Jason, the chaotic older brother that he is, can’t resist a “Come along now, sons” just as they leave - Tim and Damian are pissed, Jason isn’t their dad, he can’t tell them what to do, and once they’re out of Batman and Robin’s earshot they make their opinion on that very clear, but it’s too late now - for as long as they’re in this time they’ll have to pretend in front of Bruce and Dick.

As it turns out getting back home takes a little longer than Jason, Tim and Damian had initially hoped for, so they spend at least a week or two in this time, during which they meet Dick and Bruce pretty much every night and even begin to help out a little when something more dangerous goes down (though compared to what they’re used to, this version of Gotham is pretty tame).

Because Jason can’t resist annoying his brothers he fully lays into the dad role, calling them “son” or “sport” whenever he can and delighting in the furious glares he receives in return.

At some point it also becomes clear how much more experience the three of them have compared to Bruce and Dick, who have only been vigilantes for a couple of years at this point, and when this young Bruce openly asks Jason for advice on how to be a good vigilante dad because Jason obviously seems to have more experience than him, Jason doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry.

This young Bruce is still Bruce Wayne with all his faults of course, but he’s also a lot less jaded and world-weary and sad, so Jason gladly gives him some advice that he hopes makes some things better without breaking the entire time-line.

Meanwhile Tim and Damian learn first hand what a menace young Dick Grayson was - he disobeys orders, pulls dangerous stunts, fights in freaking short pants, but gets away with everything because of his puppy-dog-eyes and because Bruce was even more of a pushover back then than he is in their time.

Obviously Bruce and Dick never learn the true identities of their visitors or their connections to them in this time - one day the three of them just don’t show up anymore and when they investigate they find a post-it note in the warehouse where they’d first met them that just says “Gone home. See you some time in the future.” with the three names Arsenal, Drake and Flamebird signed underneath.

“It was pretty fun having other kids to talk to about all of this,” Dick says, sounding subdued as he looks at the note and Bruce knows he will probably regret this, but he just can’t stand to see his son sad.

“I heard Green Arrow has a side-kick now,” Bruce says, trying to sound casual, but the way Dick looks at him with tentative hope just makes his heart melt instantly. He would give this kid the world if he asked for it. “Maybe it would be a good idea to meet them.”

[clingymickey]

Hello hello I have come to help bust through your writer's block! Please tell me what kind of story you would write for 27. Cowboy/Western AU and 63. Eating together

Much thank <3

Hii Howl, mon amour!! Thank you <3 This one was a bit tough ngl, so instead of a fic I'll just be making an outline because if I wrote a fic then it would be a multi-chap and I have commitment issues at the moment so I don't think it's really gonna work out 😅. Also, this is more of a farm AU than a cowboy one - but there is some aspects of it in there.

Ok so, Ian is a partner at this big firm - that's sort of struggling right now, both financially and personally. So, because of this things aren't going great for Ian - mentally as well, he's been having frequent low periods even though he takes his meds most of the time.

So he asks for a 1 and a half month period leave from work and heads for a road trip to take a break and work on himself. Going wherever the road takes him...which leads him to Texas.

Ian stops at a local motel, where he befriends the owner Mandy - who reminds him of home, the good parts. And because he starts becoming close friends with mandy he decides to extend his stay a bit longer.

Mandy shows him around her little area, shows the small stable and farm area that's mostly held under the ownership of her brother, Mickey Milkovich.

Ian sees him around sometimes, maybe when he's hanging out with mandy or going on a walk around the motel, and GOD is he beautiful and sexy, those plaid shirts showing off his 'swole' arms.

One night, Ian gets out of his room to go for a smoke, cause for some reason he couldn't go to sleep that night, and enter Mickey Milkovich, who also happens to be up.

And mickey's all like "Gallagher?" 🤨 and Ian's about to explain himself but then's he like "Wait...how?? how do you know my name?" "Mandy told me" and then Ian's kind of disappointed because he thought mickey had gone out of his way to learn about him, maybe even hoping he was gay, but then he is just like there's no way Mickey's gay and just shuts down his thoughts on that. Anyway, Ian tells him why he's up and he learns mickey is out for a smoke too, so they both share a blunt together - which to Ian's mind is like they're almost kissing each other.

After that little moment, Mickey asks Ian if he's hungry because Mickey is and who's he to say no right? So they go to Mickey's place, which is like a small cabin right next to his farm. Mickey cooks them some late-night dinner and this becomes a routine for the next few days.

They become close Ian asks if he could help Mickey out with any farm work, and at first he was a little hesitant but then gave a "why not. just don't kill any of my precious babies." Ian learns a little more about mickey every time they hang out together like not only is he a great farmer but he's great at maths too, Ian noticed this when Mickey was going through his profits from the produces from the farm + the motel and stuff like Mickey with a plaid shirt AND him riding a horse is enough for Ian to get a heart attack.

It's one of those nights again where Mickey's rambling about the animals or things Mandy said to him to drive him crazy while they're having dinner, and all Ian wants to do is kiss his face off because of how cute he looks with his eyebrows furrowed. After dinner, Ian and Mickey pass a joint together - Ian knows he shouldn't with his bipolar but he wants to spend more time with Mickey, besides it's only a one-time thing...hopefully.

The drugs finally start getting into Ian's head a bit, Mickey's too. They're now on the roof of Mickey's cabin with a blanket under them looking at the stars and probably a bit too close to each other, this probably might be the closest they've ever been Ian thinks.

He pauses from taking a look at the stars and turns to see Mickey's pretty face, slightly glowing from the moon's light. And that's when it hits. The happiness from either the drug or the close proximity to Mickey (Ian can't really tell which one) makes him do something he'd never think of doing in his sober state and the thing was kiss Mickey Milkovich...on the lips...underneath the stars.

And if you want to know more...can someone pls write this fic??

[girlactionfigure]

There's something I need to get off my chest.

I'm an Ultra-Orthodox, Chassidic, Hareidi Jew. I live in Jerusalem, in an area that is exclusively Ultra-Orthodox Hareidi for street after street, suburb after suburb, for miles and miles. In all of these neighborhoods where the roads are blocked off and no cars drive on Shabbos, each black-hat-wearing family has many many children and literally no TV’s. I personally only ever wear black and white clothes, my wife only dresses in Chassidic levels of tznius (modesty), and my boys and girls all attend mainstream Hareidi Chassidic schools where the main language is Yiddish. My kids don’t and never will have smartphones, nor have they ever been on the internet at all. Period. They don’t know what social media is and they’ve never seen a movie — not even Disney animation. 

Having lived exclusively immersed in this culture for the last 21 years, I think I'm sufficiently qualified and well-researched enough to state that the consistent depiction of Hareidim and Torah Judaism by mainstream media, from Netflix to the daily news, is somewhere between delusion, slander and the literal equivalent of racism. If you consider yourself less closed-minded than how you imagine we Hareidim to be, then permit me to share a few personal details about my family, and other families in our neighborhood, to see how well your mental narrative matches up to reality:

- Besides learning Torah each day, most of the men in our neighborhood work full or part-time.

- Many women in our area work. Some even manage their own business or company. These are not special or “liberated” women — it’s so normal here it’s not even a discussion point.

- My wife is a full-time mother by choice, who despite attending an Ivy League College,  finds it a profound and meaningful thing to dedicate her life to. If she didn’t, she’d go get a job. Mind you, she also attends Torah classes each week, works out with both a female fitness coach (who’s gay) and a frum Pilates instructor, writes and edits articles for a couple global websites and magazines, and personally mentors a number of women. None of this is seen as unusual. 

- Kids in our community go to Torah schools where they learn (surprise!) Torah. They are fluent in three languages from a young age and the boys even read and understand a fourth (Aramaic). All the kids learn grammar, math and science. Weekly after-school activities have included music (violin, drums, piano), Tae Kwon Do, swimming, art, woodworking and robotics. The girls' school teaches tools of emotional intelligence. The principal of the boys' school doesn't hesitate to refer to kids to OT if needed. I practice meditation with my children multiple times each week. None of our kids think the world is literally 6,000 years old. They devour books about science and think it’s cool. They know dinosaurs existed and don’t find that existentially threatening. They have a telescope with which they love to watch the stars. 

- The women in my family (like the men) only dress modestly according to Hareidi standards. The girls don't find this burdensome or oppressive. Period. They aren't taught that beauty is bad. They're certainly not taught to hate their bodies, God forbid. Each morning when they get dressed, they are as happily into their own fashion and looking pretty as any secular girl is. They just have a different sense of fashion than secular culture dictates. (Unfortunately for me,  it's no cheaper.)

- The local Hareidi rabbis we receive guidance from are deep, warm, sensitive, supportive and emotionally intelligent. If they weren’t, we wouldn’t go to them.

- My boys assume they will grow up to learn Torah, as much as they want to, and then when they’re ready, get a good job or learn a profession to support whatever lifestyle they choose. My girls assume they’ll be wives and mothers (which they can’t wait for) but they're also warmly encouraged to train in whatever other profession they desire. (My 9-year-old daughter, chatting with her friend in the living room, just commented, "I want to be a mother and a teacher and an artist." Her friend replied, "I'm going to be a ballet teacher.") All options are on the table, and their future seems bright.

- We love living in modern Israel, feel proud and blessed to be here, and frequently count and celebrate its blessings. Everyone in my area votes. Sometimes not even for Hareidi parties. I pay taxes. (And they’re expensive!)

- As a Hareidi person, I’m glad we have Hareidi representation in the government — though I don’t always love or approve of how the Hareidi politicians act, or what they choose to represent. For the record, I'm equally dubious about secular politicians, as well. 

- While I don't spend much time in Tel Aviv, I do have a few close Hareidi entrepreneur friends who have founded high-tech start-ups there, and are — Boruch Hashem! — doing very well.   

- We don’t hate all non-religious people. Our kids don’t throw stones at passing cars on Shabbos. I doubt they even know anyone who would do that or think that it’s ok. We frequently talk about the Torah value of caring for and being compassionate towards everyone. As a family, we proactively try to find ways to judge others favorably (even those people who throw stones at passing cars on Shabbos.)

- We invite all manner of religious and secular Jews to join our Shabbos meals each week and the kids are open, happy, and confident to welcome everyone. (No, we're not Chabad.) One of the many reasons for having such guests at our table is to teach the kids this lesson.

- While we would technically be classified as right-wing and we don’t at all buy the modern “Palestinian” narrative, we certainly don’t hate all Arabs, nor do we have any desire to expel them all from the land. We warmly welcome anyone seeking to dwell here with us in peace and we are pained and saddened to see the suffering and loss of lives of all innocent Arab families and children — as would any decent human being.

- Of the few local families I know whose kids no longer identify as religious, none at all chose to disown their kids. The very thought, in such lovingly family-dedicated communities, is hard to imagine. I'm not saying it doesn't happen, I'm just saying it's not as common as it's made out. Rather, these families have tirelessly, profoundly, compassionately committed to maintaining any connection with their children, and to emphasize that, no matter what, family is the most important thing. Because it is.

- We aren't just living our life blindly, dogmatically following empty religious rules; rather, we are frequently engaged with, exploring and discussing Torah's richness, depth and meaning. Our kids honestly love learning Torah, praying and doing mitzvos. They’re visibly excited about Shabbos and festivals. This lifestyle is in no way oppressive or burdensome for them. If you suggested to them it was, they’d laugh and think you were crazy.  

- We Hareidim are normal people: we laugh, we cry, we buy too much Ikea furniture, and we struggle with all of life's daily ups and downs, just like the rest of you. Some of our communities are more healthy and balanced, some are less so; some of our people are warmer, nicer and more open, some are more closed, dogmatic and judgmental; some of our leaders are noble and upstanding, and some are quite frankly idiots…JUST LIKE ANY SECULAR NEIGHBORHOOD IN THE WORLD TOO. But having grown up living a secular lifestyle myself, and today being Hareidi-by-choice, I can testify that in these communities there is generally a greater and more tangible sense of well-being, warmth, tranquility, connection and meaning. We love and feel blessed to be living this life and wouldn’t want any other.

If this description of Hareidi life is hard to swallow, be careful not to push back with the often-used defenses like: "Well, you're just an exception to the rule...", "You're just American Hareidim", "You're baalei teshuvah", "Well, I know a bunch of Haredim that aren't like that at all"....because the truth is, while there might be many Hareidim who aren't like what I described above, it's still an accurate description of literally hundreds of thousands of Hareidim in Israel and the US — a decent portion of all Hareidim in the world. Which is my very point — how come you never see this significant Hareidi demographic represented in the media, television series, or the news? How come we mostly see the darkest and most problematic cliches instead? 

And finally, if all the facts I've listed above about our communities are hard for you to accept as true, then perhaps the image you have in your head about Hareidim is less based on facts and reality and more based on stereotypes, fear, hate, and discrimination — like any other form of prejudice in the world. 

Care to prove me wrong? Well, you're welcome to come argue it out with me and my family at our Shabbos table on Friday night. It would be a joy and honor to have you. 

Doniel Katz

[ask-lostnfound]

Hey there! Mod Marshii here. I took a hiatus that ended up being a lot longer than I would have ever liked it to be. But I’m here now, and I’d like to clear up some things. First off, let me explain something.

Connor, over at @ask-elliotgang, has been my nearest and dearest friend for over four years now. We’re close to the point that we call each other brothers, and his mother herself has practically adopted me at this point. Connor has been with me through the lowest points of my life and supported me, and celebrated with me when I hit those incredible highs. I could never have asked for a better brother and friend than him.

We met when I was 17, and he was around 13 (if I’m doing my math right.) We were in a completely different fandom, running different ask blogs. And he helped me escape the person who hurt me most in my life. My groomer, who I’d been with for 6 years at that point. I won’t get into details, since it’s still deeply traumatic to me and is something I haven’t even been able to verbalize in therapy yet, but I was at the lowest point I’d ever been. Were it not for Connor and those other friends believing me over my groomer and helping me break away from him, I wouldn’t have been able to escape and become the happy, free thinking person I am now. Years went by, and friends came and went, but Connor stuck by me no matter what.

So you can imagine my shock and horror when some time ago, I began getting anons in my askbox accusing me of grooming Connor.

I felt sickened to the core getting these anons. Someone accusing me of doing the same thing my worst abuser did to someone I care for so incredibly deeply was absolutely horrifying to me. I blocked them, hoping they would go away. They didn’t. From what I know, they were basing their claims entirely off of me being an adult and Connor being a minor. Why?

Because there was no other evidence. They hadn’t even talked to Connor himself to even try and get any. Because there never was any evidence to begin with.

I’ve talked to Connor, Ash, and several other friends, asking them if they saw the way me and Connor interacted as predatory on my end. They all said no, and were dumbfounded as to why I would even ask that. When I revealed the anons I’d gotten to them, they were shocked and appalled. The accusations were baseless. Connor himself was infuriated at people putting words in his mouth. 

With his permission, I began talking about the problem in a public server. Everyone was incredibly supportive, uplifting me and assuring me that these claims were baseless. Still, I was planning to leave the fandom. I was horrified that people actually thought this was true. And that if I remained, not only would I get attacked, but they’d begin to attack people I cared about as well just for associating with me. I could care less of them bombarding me, but the thought of my friends getting attacked made me sick.

But after a lot of time, and talking to my therapist and friends about the issue, I’m done cowering in the corner. I’m done running away from this problem. I’m not leaving. 

From now on, the anon function will be off. If these anons want to continue sending these accusations, they’ll have to do it without hiding behind their masks. I’m also going to be very careful with who I interact with from now on for my own mental stability, and unfollowing a ton of people. If I unfollow you, it’s not because you’ve done anything wrong, or because I dislike you. I’m just trying to stick to people I know very well from now on for my own safety. People I unfollow are welcome to continue following me and reading Burger’s story, as well as the stories of my other blogs. 

And to the anons. Like I said, you’re welcome to come into my askbox. This time, masks are not an option. If you want to say things like that, you’ll say it to my face. I’m not going to play nice with people like you any longer.

Thank you to all my friends who uplifted me. You proved to me that no matter how much people that don’t like me try to demonize me and chase me out, you’ll stand by me. 

I’m not a groomer. I’m not an abuser. I’m nothing like the people who have hurt me.

I’m strong, and I’m still here. I’m more than those people will ever be. And most of all...

I’m home.

[raunchyom]

Vices, Not Virtues: Charity

[ Chapter 2 ]

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A/N: Man, this took a helluva lot longer than I thought it would. It also ended up being a helluva lot longer than I thought it would, despite what I said on the last chapter. Oops. Hope y’all like long fics ^^’ Tagging: @devintrinidad

word count: 3k || warnings: n/a​

Since arriving in the Devildom, you’d been perpetually busy. 

Whether baking with Luke or shopping with Asmo, reading with Satan or snacking with Beel, practicing magic with Solomon or playing body pillow for Belphie, going to class or doing mountains of homework-- it was always something, and it always added up to a very full schedule.

Today was no different. Lucifer had insisted on keeping you until you were practically asleep in his study last night, only relenting because you had class the next day. And it wasn’t as if you could fall asleep when you got back to your room-- you had things due tomorrow, and a full schedule to try and get back on track of.

You’d mostly succeeded on the homework front, even finishing with enough time for a solid 4 hours of sleep that night. The pre-class D.D.D. tutorial you’d promised to Simeon happened right on schedule, and you successfully stayed awake for your entire first and second periods. You snuck out of third period to help Asmo with his latest fashion emergency, then managed the rest of third and fourth period without a hitch. You spent lunch listening to the newest anime-oriented drama from Levi, then attended the last of your classes. A text popped up from Beel just thirty minutes before school was over that he made a mistake, and needed your advice. You went ahead and offered to help clean the kitchen, already guessing what had happened. Overall, it was a pretty standard day.

Well, standard or not, once you’d gotten back to your room-- and finished cleaning up the wreckage that Beel had severely understated in his messages-- it was late, with a lot left to do. You opened your door, mentally blocking out how much time it should take to complete everything. Your math left you confident that you could get 4 hours of sleep again tonight, maybe even 5 if you really focused. You set your backpack down, feeling better, and flopped into your desk chair. The second your butt hit the cushion, you felt your D.D.D. buzz from your pocket.

You groaned, head hitting the desk with a soft ‘thunk’. Didn’t your phone know that you were busy?

As if it could hear your thoughts, the device vibrated again, eliciting a sigh. Pity party successfully waylaid, you dug your D.D.D. out of your pocket and checked the notifications.

It was a string of texts, all from Mammon. First he asked what you were doing, then where you were. The next one said to forget both of those; he needed you to come help him with homework in his room. When you hadn’t answered fast enough, he began to spam you with angry emojis.

He was acting like a brat, but that was his version of begging. He was always struggling in his classes, and your tutoring usually helped; you couldn’t fault him for wanting to improve his grades. And so, ignoring everything you had to do, you decided to help him. After all, isn’t that what being a good friend is all about?

You stood up, tossing your backpack on again. If you factored your study session into your schedule, that would put you at 4 hours of sleep tops. No, the likelihood it would only take an hour was slim; probably 3.5 hours of sleep. Another text-- make that two-- made your D.D.D. buzz again; both demanding you reply, the second saying you didn’t have a choice in whether to help. ...Maybe 2.5 hours.

Your first knock on his door was met with silence, and you briefly considered leaving to do your own homework. But no-- you came to help, you should help.

“Mammon?” You tried again, knocking louder.

“Finally! Get in here already!” He yelled through the door.

Mammon was on his couch, backpack tossed a good ways away from him. Though he had a textbook on his coffee table, and plenty of papers scattered across the surface, he didn’t seem to be working on anything specific. It didn’t help that he was upside-down on his couch; his legs thrown over the back cushion and head hanging off the front. It wasn’t the typical doing-homework pose, but far be it from you to tell what Mammon was thinking.

“You sure took your time!” He tossed his D.D.D. to the side, pointing an accusing finger in your direction.

“I walked straight here when I got your texts.”

“Yeah, well, you should already know when I want ya here.” He huffed, then practically fell off the couch amidst his panicked backpedaling. “Not-- Not that I want ya here, I mean! The Great Mammon doesn’t want some human around, crampin’ his style! I just--!” He rolled into a normal sitting position, the redness in his face no longer the result of being upside-down. 

“You wanted my help with homework, right?” You tried to throw him a life raft, but it went right over his head.

“What? Homework? We had homework!?” He asked, now looking frazzled for a different reason. You took a deep breath, briefly wondering how this scatterbrain remembered to put pants on every morning.

“Mammon, why did you ask me to come over?” You finally asked, trying to get him back on track.

“I asked… oh! Yeah! I uh…” He glanced at his table, a mess of papers that he hadn’t looked at since dumping them out of his folder. He looked back up at you expectantly. “Mc, do you have any money?”

...Oh, so that’s what this was about. It was hard not to feel disappointed that he had lied to get you here, but at least he got right to the point. “Yeah, sure, what happ-- ah, whatever. How much do you need?” 

You reached for your wallet, hoping to just fork over the grimm and go back to what you were doing. He hadn’t asked in a while, so this was probably legit. Probably. He would promise to pay it back, with every intention of doing so, and then forget to, or run into more debt. It was a vicious cycle; you were happy to not be a part of it. Well, at least it was nice while it lasted.

“What? No, that’s not-- ya shouldn’t be handin’ out money like that!” Mammon nagged, effectively freezing your hand in midair. If he didn’t want money, why was he asking? “You don’t needta give your stuff away to people just ‘cause they ask, that’s how people take advantage of ya!”

At first, his behavior didn’t make sense, but the gears started turning on what was going on. You shoved your wallet back into place, trying not to sound as exhausted as you felt. “Is this because of Lucifer?”

“Lucifer?” He echoed, confused.

“You know, his whole idea of giving you guys a week to…” You gestured vaguely, not wanting to say ‘teach me to sin’ for multiple reasons; “uh, talk to me?”

“Whaddya mean Lucifer?” He sounded affronted at the thought. “It was MY idea!” He huffed, crossing his arms.

“You thought of this?” It was surprising, but you felt inclined to believe him. He didn’t like to admit that he cared; he wouldn’t suddenly lie about being worried enough to bring it up to his brothers. Either way, as sweet as it was, good intentions wouldn’t save your grades. But maybe if he had gotten you into this mess, he could get you out of it. At the very least, he might be able to get you out of today’s lecture. “Mammon, I really appreciate it, but I don’t have time to--”

“Exactly! Ya never have time!” He launched up off the couch, flinging his arms out dramatically as he spoke. “You’re always givin’ it away to everybody else! Just like your stuff, and your grimm! Do ya ever even spend anythin’ on yourself?” 

“Of course I do.” You replied easily. He made it seem as if you were emptying your pockets for anyone who asked. You weren’t some human piggy bank, you bought yourself stuff all the time.

“Oh yeah? When’s the last time ya bought somethin’ for yourself, then? And food doesn’t count! Neither does stuff ya need for school, or takin’ care of yourself. When’s the last time ya bought something just ‘cause ya wanted it?” He asked, hands on his hips.

“I, uh…” That was a lot of rules. You tried to flip back in your mind. You weren’t exactly a big spender; certainly not since you’d arrived in the Devildom with so little time to work for extra cash. To Mammon’s point, you could only think of things you bought out of necessity. A snack when you didn’t have time for lunch. A new pair of shoes when yours were falling apart. Some toiletries when you needed them. A new uniform when your jacket was torn beyond repair, and you didn’t want to bother anyone about it.

“But you’re always buyin’ stuff for others!” Mammon let your thoughts wander enough to make his point, but he had to cut in eventually. “Remember how I usedta ask for money all the time?” 

“I mean-- it’s been a while.” It was a meager attempt at defense, but it was true. You couldn’t remember the last time he came to your door, brown-nosing his way into your pockets.

“Yeah, well, when ya first got here, you gave your grimm away freely, always buyin’ stuff for people-- so I thought ya had a buncha money. Then I heard Lucifer sayin’ ya don’t have much, and you were sayin’ ya wanted to save some, so I stopped askin’! But nobody else knows, so they keep askin’, and you keep givin’ it to ‘em! I know you don’t have stuff to be givin’ away either, I’ve been through--” He caught himself before he admitted it out loud, but you were well aware of the fact that Mammon had rooted through your stuff at the beginning. He had stopped at this point… you hoped. “No one here wants to take advantage of ya, but they don’t know they’re doin’ it. Ya gotta tell people not to ask for so much-- I mean, I’m the avatar of greed, and I feel bad takin’ your stuff! I bet the others would feel the same!” 

It was hard to tell whether he cared more about your financial situation or about making his brothers feel guilty. “I think--”

“Don’t even get me started about your time!” Mammon didn’t let you get a word in edgewise, advancing towards you as he ranted. He didn’t realize he was doing it; the action a subconscious result of his rising emotions. You took a few steps back, but soon bumped into furniture and had to stop. “You’re always busy, and ya got tons’a homework, but ya never say no when people ask for help! Do ya even have time to be here right now? Or do ya have somethin’ you could be doin’ instead?” 

It was a fair point, but hard to take from the one who’d brought you here. “It’s fine, I like to help out.”

“Help yourself out!” This was the second time within 24 hours that you’d gotten chewed out for not taking proper care of yourself. There was a familiar churning in your gut-- a leaden mixture of guilt and anxiety. Not to mention a dash of adrenaline from being within range of an angry demon. That last one happened a lot around here, though. “Try sayin’ no to people once in awhile! You stretch yourself too thin and eventually there’s gonna be nothin’ left!”

Mammon finally took a breath, letting his shoulders slump as he exhaled. He averted his eyes, his voice much softer when he next spoke. “Besides… I miss ya, Mc. You keep givin’ away your time, and overworkin’ yourself, and all of a sudden… I never see ya anymore.” 

His gaze flitted back to your face, and it finally dawned on him just how close he’d gotten. He was nearly pinning you against his pool table at this point. His face turned bright red, and he leapt backwards, crossing his arms to maintain his pride. “A-Anyway! You don’t owe anyone anything. So stop acting like it.”

“I don’t act like--”

“Oi, and don’t interrupt the Great Mammon!”

You rolled your eyes, but conceded. He had been difficult from his very first text tonight, it was probably easier to just humor him at this point.

“Ya play therapist for the house all the time. Ya mediate fights, listen to people’s problems, give out advice when you’re asked-- even when ya don’t know what to say. Maybe it’s about time ya let us know when ya aren’t up to it. I mean, no one's gonna fault ya for takin’ a vacation day.” It wasn’t a perfect metaphor, but it conveyed his point well enough. “The house has been a lot calmer since ya got here. Everybody knows it-- you do too, dontcha?” 

It was true that you’d been complimented on your demon-wrangling skills by many people before. ...Including the brothers, oftentimes. “Well, yeah, but you guys should always be able to come to me. I want to be there for you.”

“Well I wanna be there for you, too!” Mammon blurted, looking desperate. Well, until he realized what he said, his expression then switching to panic as he frantically backpedaled. “I mean-- we do! T-They do! Or-- everyone else does, but I-I’ve got better stuff to… Ah, what am I sayin’? We all wanna be there for ya, Mc. But that means when ya have a hard day, and we ask if ya have time... ya gotta say no. How would you feel, if ya learned that we all forced ourselves to be around ya?”

A pang of guilt shot through your chest. “It isn’t like that; you guys aren’t a burden. I want to help--”

“Yeah, and I wanna sell Levi’s expensive shut-in stuff for extra cash, but sometimes ya gotta think about what ya wanna do versus what ya can do. I’m not very… I mean, I dunno about uh, emotions and... all that, but…” Suddenly Mammon’s tsundere thing made a lot of sense; he was a lot better at denial than candor. “Well, ya can’t help us if ya can’t help yourself!”

Again, he had a point. This time he wasn’t being a hypocrite, so it made it harder to come up with a rebuttal. “Everyone has bad days, I don’t have to shut people out whenever I’m not at one hundred percent.”

“Man, you sure are lucky Lucifer has a soft spot for ya. All this back talk would get me in hot water.” Mammon sighed. “Just listen to me for once, wouldja?”

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. He chose to interpret it as a yes.

“I know ya wanna have some free time. And I know ya wanna keep some of your money saved up, whatever it’s for. Well… If sayin’ no is hard for ya, maybe we can start ya off with a test drive.”

“A… test drive...?” Nope, he lost you.

“Y’see, I’ll take the fall tonight. I’m gonna say we’re studyin’. Or that I’m still givin’ ya my peace. But… go back to your room, do whatcha want. Don’t matter what-- homework, sleepin’, whatever. Just don’t let anyone take it from ya. Matter’a fact, if someone asks for ya: practice sayin’ no. If ya gotta give ‘em a reason, tell ‘em it’s my fault.” 

“You sure?” He was essentially offering to be your guard dog for the night, which was quite a monumental task-- especially since people already assumed Mammon was at fault for things in general, and wouldn’t hesitate to take their anger out on him.

“Yeah, yeah; just don’t go and think I’m gonna keep doin’ this forever! Ya gotta learn to say no on your own, without me havin’ to do it for you all the time! I got goldie to worry about, I don’t need another credit card overspendin’ itself and-- w-well, I just don’t wanna haveta deal with it if ya run outta money and come cryin’ to-- oi!” You wrapped him in a hug, able to feel the shock run up his spine at your sign of gratitude. 

“I-I toldja, I ain’t doin’ it for you!” Mammon protested, but near instantly caved; stealing the chance to hug you back. He puffed out a defeated breath, adding, “I’m gonna watch out for ya human, I mean it. I wanna make sure you can keep gettin’ better, so… If ya ever gotta turn someone down in the future, or tell ‘em no for any reason, and ya can’t bring yourself to do it… You can always tell ‘em it’s on me. I’m your first man, you can always depend on me to help ya out.”

“Thank you, really.” He held you for just a beat longer before he relented, switching back to his brusque demeanor the moment he let go. 

“Yeah, yeah, keep thankin’ me and you’re gonna waste all your free time before it even starts. Get outta here already! I got stuff to do too, y’know.” He waved you off, but he was refusing eye contact for a reason.

Leaving Mammon’s room, your steps felt light, and a rush of warmth flooded your chest as you recalled his praise. Sure, it was followed by nagging, or saying it wasn’t always good for you-- but it was definitely nice to hear that the brothers really did think of you as their confidant. 

You stood a little taller; almost as if you felt a sense of pride.

[classicaltrashical]

Okay I'm not pro-bakugou, but I'm not an asshole that's going to sh*t on you for liking him, but here are some reasons on why I really dont understand people shipping BakuDeku or liking Bakugou Katsuki in general. Not hating on you just stating some canon facts. By the way I tried to censor myself but I just stopped because I got so frustrated with the amount of abuse that Bakugou got away with in just the first few chapters of the manga.

1. Bakugou is abusive towards Izuku both physically and emotionally.

1. The first freaking page of the manga starts out with Bakugou punching Izuku (while probably using his quirk).

2. Page 12 of the first chapter Bakugou slams his hands onto Izuku's desk and uses his explosion to the point it blasts Izuku out of his desk.

- Also note Izuku's body language he is trying to be as small as possible because he already is acclimated to this treatment. He is also seen trying to be as small as possible.

3. Page 15 Bakugou destroys Izuku's notebook (destruction of property).

4. Page 16 Bakugou burns Izuku's shoulder. From the looks of this and Bakugou's attitude towards Izuku this appears to in some way be a common occurrence. Because obviously this is NOT the first time he burned Izuku.

5. Page 17 Bakugou tells Izuku and I quote from the VIZ My Hero Academia Volume 1 10th Printing September 2019 "You wanna be a hero so bad? I've got a timesaving idea for you. If you think you'll have a quirk in your next life... go take a swan dive off the roof!!" After this Bakugou makes small explosions on his palm in a threatening way and Izuku left in the classroom shaking in fear. Even his friends tell him that he went too far.

6. Of course you have the name Deku. Which when used in the context that Bakugou does in the anime means Defenseless Izuku and also uses it as the abbreviation of Dekunobou which roughly translates to "good for nothing."

7. In the flashback of Izuku and Bakugou after getting praised by their principal(?) Bakugou basically grabs Izuku by the collar of his uniform and shoved up against the wall all because Bakugou was jealous and mad that he was not the first and only student to go to U.A. from their middle school and mad because he thought Izuku was hiding his quirk all this time.

2. Izuku is still traumatized.

1. I've hinted at this above, but I don't think I would allow someone with a quirk that makes them sweat a nitroglycerin-like substance to put their smoldering hand on me. Seriously just that scene makes it clear that Bakugou has used his quirk to either frighten Izuku or to injure Izuku.

2. When going in for the entrance exam on page 2 of the third chapter Izuku is shown to turn away from Bakugou and appears to be even more nervous then before.

3. Izuku also thinks to himself about how he has to "stop flinching instinctively." Guys he flinches away from just hearing and/or seeing Bakugou. If you think this can become a healthy and stable relationship......??? Also a few pages after when everyone is gathering around their assigned testing locations someone says "he flinches at the slightest touch" after Iida grabs his shoulder.

- If you think that is freaking natural someone watching that unfold already freaking knows it's not f u c k i n g natural for some to be terrified of another person grabbing their shoulder when they even see the person performing the act. Startled perhaps, but not the way Izuku flinched. Once again in this scene (and like most throughout the first volume) Izuku tries to make himself smaller than he already is by tucking his chin towards his chest and looking away from Iida (who by the way is trying to meet Izuku's eye.) Izuku is so used to being physically abused by his peers that he flinches on contact.

4. Before entering the 1-A classroom for the first time Izuku prays that neither Bakugou or Iida would be in the same class and depicts Bakugou in a pretty demonic way.

5. After the meeting with the principal(?) Izuku instinctively raises his arms to try and block any explosions near his face.

6. After Izuku uses OFA through one finger in Aizawa's assessment test Bakugou is furious and when Izuku sees his barreling towards him he screams in fear. And guys this must be the first time someone has actually STOPPED Bakugou from tormenting Izuku because the look on Bakugou's face is pure shock. Meaning in the years (probably near a fucking decade) nobody has stopped anyone from bullying Izuku. Like that says it all, doesn't matter if you're pro-Bakugou or not Bakugou traumatized Izuku because his abuse and torment went from when they were just little kids after finding out Izuku was quirkless to right after the Sludge Monster.

Do I need to continue into Volume 2 with the whole Bakugou versus Izuku fight? But I will say this...

Izuku has started to heal.

As the manga and anime continue Izuku stops flinching everytime someone calls his name or touches him. He stops raising his arms to block a blow that won't come. He stops trying to sink in on himself. I think the best comparison of this is when Izuku first "raises" his hand in the first chapter to the one during Ectoplasm's math lesson where he stands up confidently and gives an answer.

But healing doesn't erase the past. Healing mentally doesn't erase physical scars (once again it is pretty obvious that Bakugou used his quirk on Izuku.)

Not to mention Bakugou has yet to confront what he did to Izuku. Hell he hasn't even changed much. The only change he did was not always call people somewhat derogatory names instead of their actual name. Don't give me that shit of "well he was kidnapped and felt guilty over All Might's retirement." That's just making a fucking excuse about why he should be forgiven. Was he held against his will for almost a fucking decade? No it was a handful of days and who got him out? Shockingly, but sadly not shockingly the one he decided to torment for years. Don't give me that shit about how apparently being a kid gets you out of trouble. Sure some of it was when he was a kid, but want to know something people age. Hell by the time he told Izuku to kill himself he would have been 14 and most likely almost 15. Which means he should have fucking known better! The only actual excuse I will allow to somewhat slide is the fact that as mentioned AIZAWA SHOTA WAS PROBABLY THE FIRST ADULT TO STOP BAKUGOU FROM HARMING IZUKU! Meaning every fucking adult that saw the way Bakugou acted didn't do jack shit which meant he was raised in a toxic system for years being told what he was doing wasn't something worth being punished for. But still Bakugou should have known better.

The fact that Izuku idolizes Bakugou shows how toxic even this "friendship" is. He is literally idolizing his abuser. And yeah Bakugou is an abuser sure he can be called a bully and a tormentor but he is an abuser. "A person who treats another person or animal with cruelty or violence, especially regularly or repeatedly"- the fucking Oxford definition of abuser. I mean repeatedly throughout the series Izuku talks about how he has come to view Bakugou as an image of victory.

You want a character to be dating his past abuser? You really want that? I don't give a shit if you write a "they have a talk about their past" before they start dating in your story.

The fact that Bakugou's abuse and the trauma it did to Izuku hasn't been talked about yet in canon is also something that angers me a bit (hopefully Horikoshi has something planned for this). Because it's obvious from their fight during finals and their fight after the provisional license exam that they need to at least talk about it. And then get them both into fucking therapy because yikes they both need it.

And I do not fully agree with Bakugou being forced out of the Hero Course (as some people do), but at least some temporary removal. Mainly put him on probation for a while. Because I believe there are rules in Hero Society that prohibit even middle schoolers from using their quirks against someone(? Right these exist?)

Also if you think for one fucking second that Bakugou did not abuse Izuku and having them in a relationship is not toxic go read the manga and watch the anime both from the beginning because you are missing some cues.

I know that this is was supposed to be about why I don't see how people can ship this and it turned into a rant. I never really care about what other people ship but just think about this. I wrote this mainly because I have seen some people around saying that anti-bakugous overexaggerate and say that Bakugou want not an abuser when ah clearly he is. Like I could go onnnnnnnnn about how much damage Bakugou did to Izuku. We aren't exaggerating you just need to go back to the beginning and see how shitty Bakugou treated Izuku.

If you want to make an argument about how Bakugou is a good guy and how he has learned and changed and it's all good now come @ me I have volumes 1-23 and the other manga chapters on stand by and my Hulu is up and ready.

Not actually looking for an argument but I could have made this post longer but it's now almost 8am I haven't slept a wink and I'm tired.

[gravelgirty]

PTSD and Math

I may never be ‘normal’ after my past, but I’ll be glad if I can function. After all, I’m not the person I used to be, and things are always changing.

BUT.

I have to request accommodations for my math class this quarter. This is the same math I passed in high school. Now we are strangers to each other, and despite the Covid lockdown, I’m getting a tutor. I plan on getting as much out of them as humanly possible. They may very well wind up hating me, but I will adore them.

Dyscalculia is real. This is why damage to the brain, be it physical, emotional, and mental, is important. This is your BRAIN. Your brain does not care which form the damage is in. Throw the dice, the roll will come up DAMAGE. Don’t even start on the ‘sticks and stones will break my bones but names will never hurt me’. We’re grown adults in a scientific age. We know that is malarky now. It CAN hurt. It WILL hurt.

And math, which is absolutely crucial to cognitive tests, your ability to function, problem solving and critical thought...in short, your ability to function without dying...is one of the first victims to be forcibly evicted from your brain under trauma. There’s a reason why people are so slow to admit--really admit--they struggle with math. They feel alone. They feel isolated. Jokes about math are acceptable, but not your feeling of failure.

Fight or flight is a simple, dark and dirty response to a threat. Once you have that in your head, you will have to retrain yourself to solve problems again. Now that I’ve realized this, my friends are talking. One said the first time she had to struggle with math, ever, was when she was under trauma. She hadn’t known what was happening--suddenly, math was no longer a source of joy, but stress and discomfort.

If you are stressed enough, you will have a stroke. 

The difference between ‘real’ and ‘imagined’ damage is written on air.

Because your brain is injured. Your brain is still doing its best to take care of you. Your brain wants you to survive. It sees something that kicks in your stress levels, and it will do its damned best to get you away from that bad situation. What are you doing? It screeches. Don’t stop to take its name! Get away from that junk! There is no amazement in learning anxiety is a contributor for dyscalculia.

Schools of all grades, colleges, training facilities and prisons struggle with this problem nonstop. 

There are recognized, legal definitions of math disabilities such as dyscalculia. It’s a bigger presence in the world than most people are willing to believe. It affects not just your math, but the proper order of numbers. Your sense of time.  You ability to hold on to money and spend it wisely--these are only a small fraction of how this can affect you.

Maybe it was being hit in the head physically. Maybe it was my brain trying to block out the beatings. Maybe it was the day to day erosion of my self-worth until I believed i deserved it. All I know is, NONE of that helped me at all. And now, if I want a job with an actual living wage, I need to struggle out of my AA’s degree requirements and put myself right back into debt with a BA. Terrifying as that sounds, I am resolved to do this. What’s in my way more than anything? Basic homegrown mail-order math functions.

So, test yourself. Play pattern recognition games on your phone, simple puzzles, sudoku, WHATEVER. Because if there are days when you can’t seem to win the level, or your concentration flags, that’s a warning sign for your stress levels. Pay attention. The Internet chuckles about this poor soul who played the same sudoku game for weeks without realizing it was the same, single game. Yes, he really should have told his doctor about it. That’s important. That’s not insignificant.

Your brain has only one job, and that is to have your back.

Make sure you have its back. You need each other.

Math. Is. Achievable. You need it to know the difference between putting your pants on your legs or your ears. You recognize the spiral of a snail shell but do you know it’s the Golden Mean? Fractals make no sense but you’re awesome at origami? What we get wrong about math is the equations are a developed system of achievement on a conscious level. You can fathom quantum physics and still struggle to explain why x=y. But once you can prove you can do this math, you’ll have a grade that no one can take away from you.

You can have a degree at the highest levels, and still possess dyscalculia. That’s a part of you. Just remember...math is about problem-solving.

Some solutions mean stop trying to take the same tests as everyone else. I guarantee you see a different number of colors than other people. You’re not the same height; ergo, your perspective will be different. You hear differently. Your brain is unique to everyone else’s. You read different books and your handwriting will never look like they teach you in school. Damn it, you are going to process differently from the rest of the world.

And you know what? Math has grown up in the past 4,000 years. Math makes allowances for truths such as different processing and perspective. Don’t think you’re stupid, or there’s something missing in your head. 

Just...learn to get to know this part of you.

[not-your-damsel]

I Gotta Let it Out, Please Forgive Me Guys

I got a random message on Facebook messenger from my bestest friend from the tail end of middle school until onwards… or so I thought.

*Names have been changed for this… mess? I’m so sorry guys, I’m all over the place 😑 and this is kinda long so, head’s up

She was like a sister to me, we told each other any and everything. We wrote fan fics for *N’Sync before fan fics were even a goddamn thing, before there was a place to even post them! She made the life move from New Jersey to Pennsylvania bearable and then livable after having my whole life uprooted once again. My Mom and I always moved a lot when I was a child so I was always bouncing from school to school once I thought I was finally settled and was steadily making friends only to up and move again. That coupled with constantly having to go to the hospital because of my illness didn’t bode well for my learning abilities. I’m great at everything else now as an adult but don’t even come to me about math or I’ll spit on you, I don’t make the rules 🤷🏽‍♀️

However, once my Mom met my Sister’s father, our living situation somehow downgraded from living in a beautiful brownstone house to then living in a trailer in a trailer park. Please don’t take that as me shitting on trailer parks or folks who live in them. I just despise them because they immediately remind me of the verbal, mental abuse/gaslighting I endured when we lived there which continued into PA and the house we moved to there is all. My stomach churns when I pass by one as I immediately feel like I’m 10 again and about to be in trouble and grounded for the next tiniest thing he deemed wrong of me.

Anywho, we moved to PA when I was 12, my little sister having been born in NJ just before we left it to come here and I was livid. Leaving all my friends behind after finally having a taste of actually settling in and making friends and not moving away right after the fact only to pull the rug from under me and do it again. As an adult now, I get it. It’s safer here than where we’d been and the taxes rock, no tax on food or clothing or pharmaceuticals and also utilities for heat and shit and not to mention, a better school system.

And school is where I met my immediate bestie, around the second or third day being there, we had to swim for gym and since I didn’t know I had to sit out for the period where the other girls and I started talking about *N’Sync and she asked me who my face was, which was Lance and then she said hers was Justin Timberlake and that she fantasizes about him. Anyone who can tell me that right off the bat with the same energy as telling me what their favorite color or animal is has immediately won my friendship. Immediately.

That’s how we met, that’s how we rolled and we stayed joined at the hip throughout the rest of our school years together. We’d been through it all, crushes, familial loss, pet loss, watching mutual friends come and go or fuck each other over, and yet her and I remained as though we were born sisters. I never needed a whole entourage of people to call my friends. Whoever’s gonna hang with me, I love and appreciate and protect dearly and those who won’t that’s fine as well. But she was a constant in my life, we both were constantly in each other’s lives.

She provided an escape and safe haven away from my home when it got to be too suffocating to be within my own home because of my overbearing stepfather and I taught her how to appreciate and accept and play video games, specifically of the survival horror genre and we’d get together for a sleepover when a new release would come out and we wanted to get lost in stories and scream for dear life at perfectly crafted jump scares. She turned me on to being a drama kid since her and I were in chorus together being Soprano 1’s, and it turned out to be one of the most fun things I did in high school.

But time passes and we graduated. Sad as I was to be parting from everyone, we all began to scatter, coming together during breaks to party and catch up. After moved to Queens NY to be with my fiancé at the time and she was doing her own thing. Over time, life got in the way. There was no grand fight to speak of, no secretly harbored feelings of ill will or hatred, nothing of the sort. Which is why I’m left feeling so baffled over how what was meant to be a great reaching out and reconnecting moment ended up turning into me feeling angry, dejected and feeling as though maybe there were some things she never spoke to me about when she should’ve.

It started out great, happy to hear from her especially out of the blue since the times I tried to reach her would always fall through. We caught up with one another, as you do, and then the conversation turned from catching up to suddenly me being questioned about why I never contacted her. I explained everything that happened, how I tried several times apart from the yearly birthday wishes and such, and how I never got a reply back, that I assumed it meant she had a different phone number. How as the years passed more and more, my insecurities of no longer being wanted by her ran rampant and that maybe she had better people in her life. I apologized for that, seeing now that I was blinded by that insecurity and that was something for me to sort out. That and that life literally got in the way.

I told her everything as honest and truthful to the best of my ability because I’d never lie to her, never had and never would/will want to. I admitted to her that I’m definitely different from the last time she’s seen me and that I’m now utter shit with the phone. I personally think it’s a mix of my Major Depressive Disorder mixed with my anxiety that I prefer messaging over actually talking on the phone. But that’s not for my lack of trying to reach her over the years.

However, that wasn’t good enough for her though apparently. She kept pressing me and questioning if “I ignored her” because of scenario A, B or C. She said that. She literally said, “Did you ignore me because of…”. She started labeling despite me telling her what happened, putting words in my mouth. It got to the point that I was just repeating myself over and over because she kept interrogating me on the issue, bringing up weak reasons as though she just knew that was the “reason I dipped and left her in the wind” when meanwhile, when you look at which of us two was the last to try to contact the other through Facebook messenger, it shows it as me and before that all my attempts to reach her through something I knew she’d see my shit to her through and yet I was never answered.

I ended up saying to her, “Look, I don’t know what it is you’re wanting me to say here. I feel like you’re trying to get me to admit to something to please you but I’m not gonna do that because if I did, then I’d be lying to you and I’m not here for that. I told you everything on my end here, what has happened and that’s exactly what it is. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t secretly hate you, I could never hate you. It wasn’t your fault about what happened with my ex and I at your party, I’ve never held you responsible for his cheating actions. He cheated on me with Stan, not you, so don’t think that has anything to do with you when you stuck up for me when we all found out the next morning. Please stop fishing for a conflict that’s not there.”

I don’t hear from her after a long while and I explicitly tell her that I want to talk about this more the next day because this isn’t right and I want to clear up whatever it is that she thinks is wrong, that I love her and to have a good night as it’s past 2am at that point. She proceeds to bring up past scenarios hours later while I’m well asleep and she knows this, guilt tripping me about how she was there for me whenever I needed to be in the hospital but that maybe I had forgotten what it meant to be best friends with her and she then blocks me on all socials knowing I can’t even fight for myself because I’m asleep. All socials save for one and that’s Insta.

I call her out on that shady bullshit and tell her that it’s absolutely unfair that I sat there and I was being an adult and admitting to my mistakes and apologizing for them only for her to push all the blame on me for not contacting her which we established that I had many times and not been acknowledged. I said, “The phone works 2 ways, Sadie, 2 ways. Do not sit there and act like you’re not to blame as well, especially when I’m here admitting fault and apologizing for it and you haven’t even bothered to claim some of that faulted responsibility. That’s fucked because if it were me having come to you, yet again, and this time you answered, I would’ve taken my part of the blame and admitted to my faults here as well, I wouldn’t’ve piled it all on you the way you did to me. I was honest with you and it seems that’s not what mattered to you, what mattered to you was putting untruths into my mouth to fit your narrative that “I hate you”, “that you never mattered to me” and so on. Again, not cool. Will it hurt to lose you? Absolutely, it’ll kill me to lose you permanently, but not at the expense of a lie you want so badly to be true.”

Not only that, but several times throughout this conversation, she would bring up something factual that happened, that she knew happened, only to turn around and say something snarky like, “I wouldn’t know what happened or I wouldn’t know about that because you never told me about it.” I sat there for a good moment afterwards, seriously questioning if she was drunk or high or a combo of the two and just crossfaded because it made no damned sense!!!

I’m not gonna lie, I’m truly hurt by all this. I cried happy tears when we first started talking because it had been so long, and then by the end of it, I was left baffled, hurt, confused, and feeling like I didn’t even know this person anymore and crying in a panic that this was all actually happening. That I somehow unknowingly became a villain to my own best friend, my sister. It still feels unreal, the whole thing was so all over the place, it gave me whiplash. I don’t know what to do and I apologize for putting a portion of me and my troubles on here, I just needed a safe space to vent and let loose because I’m warring with myself of if this is even still worth it with her because this feels so… icky. Like in my gut I can feel that this isn’t the same person I once knew and I’m only gonna find more upset, hurts and disappointment and that feeling causes even more hurt.

Idk guys, I’m tired and worn out. I cried a lot so that’s gonna and made me even more tired only with puffy, splotchy pinky/red rings around my eyes that now are sensitive to the touch from wiping them so much. But thank you for letting me do what I felt I needed to do and just let this mess out. I know it’s all over the place but I can’t even bring myself to fix anything if there’s errors and shit. Love y’all.

[runpogorun]

Gravity

To fill my Marvel Fluff Bingo square, Astronomer AU. No warnings apply, rated G, Matt Murdock/Foggy Nelson, 2759 words. Read it here or over on AO3.

Matt makes his way slowly into the room. The first thing he finds is the couch in the middle, presumably facing the TV, so Matt circles it slowly, his cane tapping lightly between the heavy thud of upholstery on his left and the hollow chink of wooden skirting board. The cane makes a higher tink as it collides with a metal structure and Matt reaches out with his hand, searching, and confirms a metal cabinet. He continues sweeping his cane across the hardwood floor, wary of any rugs, as his hands skate the surface of the cabinet finding photo frames, three clustered plant pots. He sends some loose sheets of paper skating off the surface and freezes, trying to track their direction of flight. 

“Don’t worry about it!” Foggy calls from the kitchen. “I’ll get them.” 

Matt turns his head over his shoulder, towards Foggy, and grins sheepishly. “Sorry. Comes with the territory.”

Foggy tsks quietly. “It’s not a problem. They’re just bills. You said whisky, right?”

Matt nods, “Yes, thanks,” and resumes his exploration. There’s an open doorway just past the cabinet, and Matt pauses, head tilted. “This the bathroom?”

“Yup.”

Matt moves his cane again, and it twangs in his hand with another metal vibration. But this doesn’t feel as heavy as the cabinet. He frowns, and reaches forward as he hears Foggy come up behind him.

“Oh, that’s a little more fragile, but feel free to… feel away.”

Intriguing. Matt stretches through space and finds smooth, painted metal with his fingertips. The metal is curved into a tube, and as his fingers move along it they find an encircling ridge. The object gives under his touch, and he finds the pivot point, the tripod suspending it. He tucks his cane under his arm and takes a step forward, using both hands to get a better idea of its dimensions.

Matt turns his head back in Foggy’s direction. “Is a telescope actually useful in New York City?”

Foggy makes a considering noise. “It’s alright. Not as good as, say, the Socorro Desert. But I can still see things.”

“Does your apartment have roof access?”

“Not the apartment itself, but the super lets me use the service stairs. 

“Nice.”

“Yeah.”

Matt files that away, drops his hands and turns towards Foggy. “Shall we sit?”

“Sure.” Foggy moves towards the couch. “Did you find the couch? It’s over here.” He pats the cushion with an open palm, a firm thump of orienting sound.

Matt smiles at him. “Yes, thanks.” There’s a coffee table as well that Foggy forgot to mention, but he expected that. He folds up his cane and drops it on the coffee table and sits down next to Foggy before accepting his drink. “So, what sort of things do you like to look at? You’re not a creeper, are you?” He takes a sip, revelling as always in the first burn.

Foggy laughs loudly at that. “No. I’m an astronomer.”

Matt tilts his head. “You said you were a teacher.”

“I am. I teach Observational Astronomy and Cosmology at NYU.”

Matt laughs. “And here I was, thinking you were a dance teacher.” Foggy had held the class in his palm, everyone drawn to him, like he had the strongest gravitational pull in the room. It had only taken three classes for Matt to succumb, and accept an invitation for a drink.

“That’s just a hobby. I like to boogie. And it’s a good way to meet people,” Foggy says, nudging Matt with his elbow.  

Matt raises his glass, and Foggy clinks them together. “Slainte. So, do you do this often?” He takes a sip.

“Meet people?”

“Bring strange men back to your apartment.”

Foggy laughs at that. “Strangers are friends we haven’t yet met. But, honestly? No. I don’t.”

Matt considers that. He, in contrast, does do this often, but usually only once or twice with the same person. Matt’s a comet, shooting in and out, plenty of noise and fuss but little substance.

“How about you,” Foggy asks.

“Me?” Matt mentally scans through all the men and women he’s dated in recent history. This may not be the moment to share that information.

“How do you make your crust?”

“Oh.” Matt leans back against the couch cushions and stretches an arm along the seat back, towards Foggy. “I’m a lawyer,” he says, mouth quirking in a slight smile, and waits for the inevitable praise. People are always impressed.

“Oh cool. I nearly did Law,” Foggy says. People often say this - it’s one of those throwaway lines. But then he adds, “I was aiming for Columbia but then… I took an intro to Astronomy class over the summer after high school and I sort of… fell into the stars.”

Matt tilts his head. “Tell me about it.”

Foggy hums, consideringly. “I’d always been interested, you know?” he says. “But I hadn’t really thought that it could be my job. I thought it would be fun to take the class, that it would be interesting. So I did.”

“Always a solid choice, choosing the interesting.”

“It was residential, close to an observatory. One morning we got up in the middle of the night, and towards dawn I saw the Orion Nebula. It’s near Orion’s Belt.  And it was so beautiful, and unknown. I wanted more. I couldn’t stop thinking of what else must be out there. 

“I mean, we do know a lot now, especially when a probe like Juno fires back information, but also a lot of it we can’t exactly know. No one knows what it’s like to stand on the surface of Eros, not really. Or what the Helix Nebula looks like from the inside. We can model it, sure, but we can’t know. I was hungry to find out what I could. I was hooked.” Foggy stops, abruptly, and Matt can hear him sip his drink.

Matt is struck by the emotion in Foggy’s voice, growing with every word. “That’s a great story,” he says. “Not everyone finds their passion, or follows it.

Foggy takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. “Yeah. You know, I don’t usually tell people all that, right out of the blocks.”

“I guess I should feel honoured,” Matt says.

“You should, my friend,” Foggy says, the humour back in his voice.

Matt angles his head towards the telescope in the corner. “And that. Do you use it often?”

“Uh yeah, I do, actually.” Matt can hear Foggy shifting against the cushions, like he’s embarrassed again, caught out. “I mean, it’s no match for the Keck telescopes, but it still lets me look. I like looking.”

“Why don’t you show me?” Matt suggests. “I mean, if it’s a good night for it.”

Foggy holds his breath for a moment, then lets out a puff of laughter. “Sure. Why not.” 

It takes a minute to get sorted. Matt snaps out his cane, stashes the whisky bottle under his free arm and holds the glasses in that hand. Foggy is gentle, almost reverent, with the telescope as he folds up the tripod. They head out the apartment door, Foggy and telescope leading, Matt and whisky following, and up the stairwell to the roof. 

The summer air is still warm, but cooler than the oppressive heat of the day. “Over here,” Foggy says. There’s a table and a couple of chairs set up to one side, and Matt settles down to listen as Foggy fusses over the equipment.

“You do do this often.”

“Mmm. It’s nice up here. Quiet.”

Matt listens to the sound of cars rushing in the street below. It’s muffled, sure, and you can’t ever escape cars in New York City. But Foggy’s right. It is peaceful.

“What do you see?”

“There’s still some light in the sky from the sun, but Mars is close and bright. And Venus. Not that I need the telescope for them.”

“You don’t?”

“Not to find them. They’re just like bright stars. But it’s not really dark enough yet. I’ll wait a bit.” The other chair creaks as Foggy sinks into it. “Tell me about your law practice, Matt. Are you a corporate hotshot?”

“Not so much.” Matt shrugs. “It’s just me and my partner Kirsten, and our paralegal Karen. I mostly do what Kirsten says.”

“Partner?”

“Business partner,” Matt says, smiling at Foggy. “Best friend from law school.” 

“What kind of work do you do?”

“Small stuff, mostly. Tenancy disputes, work visas, that kind of thing. Most of our clients come from here in the Kitchen.”

“Sticking up for the little guy!” Foggy cries. “Show me some skin.” Matt holds up his palm and Foggy high fives him. “That’s what I wanted to do.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, like I said, it was the stars. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d learned in that in astronomy class. And I’m good at Math, so that helps. I ended up switching from Philosophy to Physics before the year started. And then I went on to get my doctorate at UC Davis. My parents were devastated when they realised I wasn’t going to drive a Bentley” he says, laughing.

Matt laughs with him. “Academia isn’t really a way to make money, is it?”

“It’s really, really not. Not like law. Mom wanted me to be a butcher but that was never going to happen, so at least I could have done something which would have made me rich. Such a disappointment.”

Matt laughs at that. “You sound like me. I’ll never be rich.”

“Your family counting on you for the bucks, too?”

Matt sobers. “Uh, not exactly.” He needs to get off this topic, now. “How far into the galaxy do you usually look?”

“The radiotelescope guys look right back in time, as far as we can look. But I kind of like our neighbourhood - our solar system. Each planet in our solar system is a whole world. Well, obviously they literally are worlds. They’re suspended, hanging in the enormous void of space. They look so serene, from Earth, as they hurtle through the endless blackness, but they’re dynamic and complex. Did you know that the Great Red Spot on Jupiter is so large that two Earths could fit side by side inside it? It’s an enormous storm that’s been raging for at least 150 years, probably much longer.”

Matt shakes his head. “I don’t know much about any of it.”

“We’re all so far from each other, and together at the same time. Once you leave our solar system it’s 25 trillion miles to the next one.”

“The next galaxy?”

“The next solar system. Our galaxy is fifty-two thousand light years across.”

Matt shakes his head. It’s too big a number to make sense.

“We’re bound by gravity to the rest of our solar system. There are so many stars and planets out beyond the Kuiper Belt,” Foggy continues, “And we’ll never be able to reach them. We can’t even see most of what we know is out there, we just have to make an educated guess at it, work it out from the clues.”

Matt half-smiles to himself, and takes a sip of his drink. “Seeing and knowing are two different things.”

“Uh, yeah, of course, I didn’t mean to--” 

Matt cuts him off with the wave of his hand. “So you took the class, and fell in love with astronomy?”

“Oh no, that happened much earlier. Growing up in the city I never saw that many stars, you know? When I was eleven I went away on summer camp to this place upstate. We stayed in these little cabins in the woods by a lake, just outside a small town. It was weird - so quiet, but sometimes you’d hear a wild animal. And at night, the stars! I didn’t know the sky could be like that. Like grains of sand scattered across a velvet blanket. I’d sneak out in the middle of the night when the sky was truly dark, and the entire sky was covered with stars. The trees were only visible as the places where the stars weren’t. 

“I discovered later that Aboriginal people in Australia, who live in the desert where obviously it’s really dark and the sky is very clear, have constellations that are the darker areas between the stars. The reverse of us who live with more light pollution. All people look up at the stars. We all wonder.”

Foggy suddenly sounds like he’s come back to himself, remembered where he was. “I’m sorry, I’m doing all the talking and this is probably really boring.”

“No,” Matt says quietly. “It’s not. I’ve never heard a description like this before. I-” He cuts himself off, unsure how to carry on without making himself sound wistful, and smiles. “I like it. I like listening to your voice.”

Foggy makes a quiet, pleased sound. “That’s a great line. I feel like I should be saying things with gravitas, or beautiful things. She says nothing at all, but simply stares upward into the dark sky and watches, with sad eyes, the slow dance of the infinite stars,” he quotes.

“Now that’s pretty,” Matt says.

“It’s Neil Gaiman. And he’s right, about the stars and planets dancing, caught in each other’s gravity.”

Matt smiles. “So then, tell me,” he prompts, gesturing upwards. “What’s there to see tonight? You said Venus?”

“Let’s see.” Foggy stands and goes again to the telescope. Matt hears the quiet scrape of metal as Foggy adjusts the focus. “There’s Jupiter. It’s high and bright right now. And Venus and Mars.” 

Foggy’s quiet, and Matt considers how far away his focus is. It’s hard for Matt to have a clear impression of anything beyond the reach of his hands - when he’s not touching something it could be anywhere, just out of reach or miles away. But Foggy looks at planets thousands of miles away, places he can never touch but he knows.

“Sometimes it’s better not to use the telescope at all,” Foggy says. “The Leonids meteor shower is going to arrive in a couple of months, and that’s better observed with the naked eye.”

“What are meteor showers like?”

“Fireworks. Bright, white hot stripes painting the sky. Streaking across the heavens.”

“But no boom.” Matt places his empty glass on the small table next to the bottle, and his glasses alongside.

“Good point! And several nights in a row. I’m looking forward to it.” Foggy sounds like he’s turned back to the telescope. 

Matt stands, the whisky now making him loose-limbed and easy, and walks slowly towards Foggy. His hand is slightly extended, reaching for the tune Foggy’s humming under his breath - it’s Drops of Jupiter. He clears his throat. “And what do you see, closer to home?” His voice is low and husky.

Foggy jumps and turns and his arm bumps Matt’s hand. “Oh! Um. Well.” Matt hears him take a quick breath, as Matt brings his hand to rest on Foggy’s shoulder. “I can see at least one beautiful thing.”

“That’s very cheesy,” Matt says, sliding his hand up to Foggy’s neck, then further to cup his cheek. He fans his thumb across to Foggy’s mouth, finding a goatee, and feels Foggy lean in to match him. “But I like it,” he breathes.

Foggy makes a small noise of pleasure for the brief moment that his warm, soft lips are pressed against Matt’s own. Matt brings his other hand to Foggy’s face, sliding both hands back and finding that Foggy’s hair is pulled back into a low pony.

“I didn’t think long hair would be allowed, Professor?” Matt asks.

Foggy huffs a laugh. “It’s Doctor to you, and anything goes these days.” He rests his forehead against Matt’s. “I like you,” he says, breathless.

“Really,” Matt says, one eyebrow lifted.

“I promise I’m usually better at… Words. And things.”

“What sort of things.”

“Oh, I can totally show you. But I feel obligated at this point to tell you that my super has a CCTV camera on this rooftop, and he is probably watching us right now because that’s the kind of guy he is. So, maybe we could take this back downstairs? If I’ve wooed you enough with the stars.”

“I could stand to hear more,” Matt says. “But yes, let’s go inside, and continue the story there.” And Matt follows Foggy again, drawn along by his gravity. He wonders what happens to a comet that gets caught in a gravitational field it can’t escape, wonders if he’s going to find out.

[hoodedsuns]

Neverending Story | Kim Seungmin

Genre: Fluff & Angst

Summary: You find yourself going back to the train station where all the memories of you loving him stayed, existing there as a neverending story.

Word Count: 2.1K

The heels of your worn out court shoes clicked rhythmically against the hard material of the railway platform, the sound bouncing off the walls in an echo, cutting through the comforting silence as you headed towards the very end of the station. Walking past the neon yellow coloured safety line, you allowed yourself to teeter against the edge of the platform, the heels of your feet occasionally leaving the floor as your toes pointed downwards towards the train tracks. 

You had always wondered what would happen if you ever fell down, what would happen if a train just so happened to arrive, what would happen if you had decided to finally end your mundane life. Huffing in exhaustion you pushed your random, unwarranted morbid thoughts to the very back of your mind, choosing instead to collapse unceremoniously onto one of the cold metal benches, wrinkling your nose at the rusty smell that it emitted. 

Slipping the straps of the tote bag off your aching shoulders, you stretched your arms upwards as far as you could, letting out a satisfied groan at the relief and pull that your muscles felt after sitting in the same position for the entire day. 

Taking a proper look at your surroundings, you took note of the lack of people present. In fact, you were practically the only person here save for the cleaner who was skiving off work, sitting on a bench like you were but with his phone in hand, eyes glued to the screen as he chuckled to himself occasionally. The peacefulness was something you greatly appreciated, especially after such a long and mentally exhausting day. 

While it would usually be very rare for a train station to be this empty considering the fact that this was typically considered the rush hour where everyone left work, the emptiness wasn’t uncommon around here since you lived in a rather small town accompanied by an understandably small population. 

No one ever visited this place except for the occasional runaway or adventurer, eager to find something special here only to be disappointed when they finally figure out that this place was as drab on the inside as it seems on the outside. So what were you, a resident, doing here instead of heading home? 

That was a question you asked yourself everyday.

You weren’t sure when it had started becoming a routine to visit this place everyday after work, your legs habitually bringing you here while you zone out for most of the walk. You were stuck in a dead end job, had no close friends, had no one to go home to ever since your grandparents passed away and you were honestly pretty numb to being alive. Without any aspirations and with your childhood dreams long forgotten, you were lost, unable to find a sense of purpose or direction in life. 

Perhaps that was why your legs always brought you back here, to this very train station where all the rose coloured memories of you loving him stayed despite how much time had passed since you last saw him. After all, it was where you had first met him and where you last saw him.  

“You had such a shy smile on your face when you were dared by your friends to talk to me.” Chuckling at the memory, you gave his head a gentle pat as he buried his red face into his hands, internally cursing you for once again bringing up the story of how the two of you came to be friends. 

“You were so embarrassed that you were stuttering and stumbling over your words but honestly, I couldn’t pay attention to anything you were saying. You looked so beautiful in the pouring sunlight that I completely blanked out.”

Seungmin. That was the name of the boy who had transferred to your local high school from a faraway land. The boy who had impacted your life in ways that you never even knew was possible, and the boy who had taken your heart with him as he left this suffocating town on this very day 6 years ago. 

In the beginning, it felt as though a wolf was slowly clawing away at your chest, starting off as a dull ache before slowly morphing into unimaginable pain. 

You felt a sharp stab in your heart whenever you would enter a classroom or the cafeteria, eyes darting around excitedly as you tried to spot his figure, only to remember that he was no longer here. It was especially hard having to walk home alone everyday when the journey was usually filled with laughter and light bantering. 

But even though he wasn’t with you physically, you could never truly run away from him. 

Even now, you would sometimes find yourself thinking of him, wondering how he looked like now or whether he was eating regularly. His soft voice would appear in your head no matter how much you tried to block it out, his face always popping up in your mind no matter how hard you tried to erase the memory of him and that breathtaking smile of his. Deep down however, you knew that you didn't truly want to forget the time you spent with him. 

You didn’t want to forget all the times he’s helped you out when you were in a pinch.

“No! Please Seungmin, I really can’t afford to fail math.” You clung on to the edge of his hoodie desperately, restricting him from walking any further away from where you sat. 

“Then pay attention when I’m explaining something, we only have a few weeks left before the test.” He grumbled, annoyed by the way your eyes kept wandering around the diner, focusing on everything but the study material that Seungmin was trying his best to dumb down for you. 

“I’m sorry minnie, I promise that I won’t get distracted again.” That wasn’t fair, you knew that he couldn’t bear to refuse you when you used that endearing nickname on him. 

He rolled his eyes, pretending to think about it for a moment before letting out a sigh of defeat and sitting back down onto his seat. “How about this. If we can finish these two chapters by tonight, I’ll treat you to some ice cream.” 

The way your face lit up only made Seungmin even more certain that you were definitely worth the money and time. 

You didn’t want to forget all the times the both of you messed around, enjoying your youths.

“Come on Seungmin it’ll be fine, you gotta live a little!” You teased playfully, dragging him by the arm to join the long line of people queueing for the biggest rollercoaster in the theme park, The JawBreaker. 

Seungmin wasn’t afraid of thrill rides and he definitely didn’t mind going on one, but he really wished that you would’ve at least let him grab a churro from one of the food carts to satiate his rumbling stomach. His whines were effectively shot down by you insisting that he shouldn’t consume anything before getting onto the ride in fear of him puking, a valid point that he couldn’t argue against. 

The line ended up moving way faster than he thought it would, much to his delight, and before he knew it, the pair of you were already at the front of the line. 

“Hey seungmin...maybe we shouldn’t ride this.” His gaze latched onto your terrified one, realising that you wanted to chicken out after seeing the ride up close. And as the great friend that he is, he used it as an opportunity to make fun of you. 

“You’ve gotta live a little.” He said, mimicking your voice and earning himself a pointed glare from you. “Unless you’re too afraid, then I guess that I’ll allow poor little you to exit the queue since I’m just that kind.” 

There was no way that you were going to leave the queue after he said all that, you’d rather force yourself to sit the ride than give him the satisfaction. You both ended up going back for a second round. 

But most importantly, you didn’t want to forget the way he made you feel. 

"Come here." Seungmin stood with his arms wide open, a clear invitation for a hug to which you accepted without hesitation, relishing in the way his warm arms wrapped themselves comfortingly around your trembling body. 

"Shh it's alright, I've got you." He whispered, stroking your hair and brushing away your endless tears with the gentlest touch. "Nothing can hurt you, not while I'm around to protect you." In that moment, you surrendered yourself completely to his embrace, choosing to believe in him with all your heart.

Blinking your eyes in surprise, you brought your thumb up to swipe at your wet cheeks. When had you started crying? Feeling a sudden rush of vulnerability, you wrapped your arms tightly around your body, hoping to mimic the absolute security you felt when you were in Seungmin's presence. But you should've known that it was a futile attempt. 

Now that you were thinking of it, that was where you had first realised that you were hopelessly in love with your bestfriend. He always held you as though you were the most precious thing in the world, and maybe you really were in his as he is in yours. 

And maybe, that was the problem. You didn’t have a safety net prepared to catch you when your world came crumbling down from his unexpected departure.

"You're leaving me?" You choked out, heart dropping into your stomach at Seungmin's sudden confession. He held both your hands tight in his, eyes trained onto your shoes as he purposefully avoided your eyes that were shining with hurt, knowing very well that they would crush his resolve and ultimately end up convincing him to stay. 

"I promise that I’ll return to you. If you call for me, I’ll find you no matter where you are.” Biting onto your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, you flung yourself onto him in what could very well be your last hug with the boy. And you’d be damned if you didn’t savour it for all it was worth. 

“Know that I love you, farther than tomorrow and longer than eternity.”

You placed all your trust into his parting words and for a while, it was the only thing that kept you sane as you ventured into the terrifyingly unfamiliar yet expectedly underwhelming world of being an adult. But ultimately, the logical side of yourself won you over and you knew that you had to move on. 

And in a way, you did. You made new friends and had a few flings here and there, all of them ending with the disappointment and frustration of not being able to feel anything as strong as the connection you had felt with Seungmin. 

But even so, and against the better judgement of your pessimistic self who tried hard to suppress the faint glow in your heart, you knew that a part of you was still holding onto hope that he hadn't yet forgotten about you. That you still meant something more than just a blur of a person from his past. 

Hearing the telltale rumble of a train coming into the station, you kept your head down low, picking at the unravelled threads of your old tote bag in hopes that none of the alighting passengers would have to bear witness to your unsightly state. Judging from the faint footsteps that walked past you, it seemed as though only one or two people had gotten off the train which wasn't very surprising. 

The thing that was surprising however, was the set of footsteps that you could hear stop right in front of you for a moment before it continued, the sound getting closer, indicating that the owner of those footsteps was walking towards you. 

"Shh don't cry, it's okay. You're safe with me." The moment you heard his voice, accompanied by a pair of arms that wrapped themselves securely around your body, you couldn't help but let a broken sob escape through your quivering lips, tears gathering rapidly in your eyes. 

Clutching onto his shirt like a newborn baby unwilling to let go of their mother, you looked up at him through your blurry eyes, nostalgia filling up your entire being when you were met with that bright grin of his that brought light streaming back into your world. 

A flurry of emotions rushed through you as did a wave of questions. You wanted to scream, jump around, ask him how he had been, but all that you could get out was a relieved, "Your smile hasn’t changed one bit since I last saw it.”

"Neither has yours, my love."