#would have been a fourth but i fucked it up and it's midnight so i'm going to bed good night

[golyadkin]

Theme for tonight is Faces That Make Me Feel Like I'm Going To Throw Up

[mentality-project]

Carry Me Home

Morpheus x Fem!reader

Pushing your way through the crowded bar, you welcome the brisk night air as you stumble onto the streets of London. Blowing off steam with your favourite coworkers at the end of the week had been much-needed fun, but now you were ready for home. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as your favourite scenes from the night replay in your head, your hands burying into your coat pockets to keep warm. You hum to the tune of the song stuck in your head, the crowds thinning out the closer you get to home. You notice the change in atmosphere five minutes later than you should have, the sound of a raven's caw overhead bringing you back to the present moment.

You hear them before you see them, the rowdy laughter and loud explosions of curse words giving away their position. A glance at the reflective shop front across the street tells you there's three men behind you. Fuck. It could be nothing, but even so...you'd rather not find out. Your feet pick up the pace, but despite your best efforts they sound louder. Closer.

The raven's caw pierces the night air once again, causing you to flinch but you don't stop walking until you barrel into a wall of black. Two hands grab the back of your elbows to steady you, your wide-eyed gaze snapping up to your captor. Relief floods your nervous system at the sight of the familiar stern face.

“Morphy-baby~ I need a ride! Would you be a dear and take me home?”

“You are intoxicated.”

“Maybe~”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“More than enough.” You are oblivious to the withering glare Morpheus sends towards the drunken trio of men before whisking you off to your apartment. --- "Whoa, headrush!" you giggle as you stumble in the hallway as the sand dissipates, "Don't think I'll ever get used to that." Morpheus' gentle grip on your forearms helps you still your clumsy feet, your tipsy giggles falling silent as you get lost in the galaxy of his eyes. Your lips curl up in amazement as you grip the lapels of his coat, "You have such pretty eyes, Morphy...", your smile falters as the next unfiltered thought crosses your mind, "it's not fair."

You don't notice the way he huffs through his nose, disgruntled with the unwanted nickname that has been bestowed upon him.

"You are drunk."

"Yes~ I am~!" your singsong voice is shameless.

"You should be in bed." "You're not the boss of me," you pout up at him.

The Dream Lord says your name in that hypnotic voice of his that sounds like a seduction and a warning rolled into one, and just like that, your defiance shrinks away. "But I'm not even...sleepy..." the yawns that interrupt your protest betray you. "Is that so?" Dream's eyes glint with amusement in the darkness. "Okay, okay, fine! I'll go to bed, but only if you carry me." Morpheus stares down at you while you blink up at him. You had never dared to be so petulant with him before. But then again, he had never encountered you drunk. You yelp when he scoops you up into his arms, kicking your heels off as Morpheus heads for the stairs with you in tow. He is carrying you like you're nothing.

"Oh Mylanta~ Morphy~ you're actually carrying me to bed."

"You insisted."

"Well, yeah...but I didn't think you'd actually do it." King of Dreams is silent and you wonder what's going on in there - long-suffering sigh or an internal scream. It's only when he heads for the doorway to your bedroom that you start to squirm in his arms, "Wait, wait!"

Morpheus raises his eyebrow at you, arms still wound tight around your body. You point to the bathroom. "I need the bathroom. Gotta wash my face. Sleeping in makeup is a sin."

The midnight-haired being obliges you as he carries you into the bathroom, setting you down in front of the sink before he perches on the edge of your bathtub to watch you work. You go in on your eyes and lips with a bottle of liquid remover and cotton balls, following up with some facial wipes. You frown at your reflection while you're on your fourth wipe, unable to ignore the nagging in your head that argues that since you've gotten this far, you really ought to wash your face properly. Your hands are slathered in cleansing balm before you realise that you forgot to tie up your hair.

"Hold my hair back, Morph?" Morpheus is silent as he stands behind you to oblige you, and you watch his reflection in the mirror as he smooths your hair back with both hands before gathering your locks in one hand.

"Cheers, dear." you murmur as you rub the melted balm over your face.

You rinse and repeat with cleanser before following up with moisturiser. A few moments of silence pass when you turn to face Morpheus, blinking up at him.

"I need to pee." you announce before shoving the unsuspecting Endless into the hallway and closing the door behind you.

Morpheus has no time to react and you crack the door open like an afterthought as you peer through the gap. "You're still tucking me in, right?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

The door shuts again, soon followed by the sound of the toilet flushing, then running water. The door flings open and Morpheus is greeted with the sight of you brushing your teeth. You mumble around your toothbrush, using your free hand to guide Morpheus' hand to your hair. He gets the gist, because by the time you're standing in front of the mirror, he's holding your hair in a ponytail again. He lets go as you turn to face him.

"I need a shower, but I'm too lazy."

Morpheus lifts his hand and you're captivated by the stardust that swirls around you. When it lifts, you're in your favourite sleepwear and feeling more squeaky-clean than you ever have in your life.

"Did you just -" you cut yourself off as you run your hands along your arms, through your hair and sniff the collar of your shirt, "did you just glamour magic me clean?"

"Yes."

"How amazing." your voice is hushed as you breath out.

"What was that?" you're oblivious to the amusement that tugs at Morpheus' lips.

"How amazing!" you repeat louder, looking up at Morpheus with wide eyes.

"Will you go to bed now?"

"Yes!" you grin as you put your hand on Morpheus' shoulders before you jump up to wrap your limbs around him like a koala, "I'm ready!" The huff of his breath almost sounds like laughter as his hands grip your thighs, turning on his heel to finally carry you to bed. You gasp as he sets you down and pulls the covers over you.

"Ooh, you're tucking me in~"

"Yes, Your Grace."

"I love it." you grin up at Morpheus before patting the spot next to you, "come here, Morph."

Morpheus sits next to you and you shake your head as you pull the blanket out from under him, "No, lie down. I don't want you sitting near my face. What if you fart?"

"(Y/N), I am Endless. Endless do not -"

"Lie down, please!" you smack the bed as you raise your voice, feeling quite pleased with yourself when the Dream Lord complies.

You shimmy over to his body, throwing your leg over his as you lie your head on his shoulder, curling an arm around his chest.

"This feels nice," you smile as you close your eyes.

Morpheus doesn't respond, but a few moments later you feel his hand rise from your shoulder to stroke your hair and it makes you melt into him even more.

"Ohhh...I love you." you mumble into his coat.

"What did you say?"

"I love you. Please don't stop doing that." your eyes refuse to open as you feel yourself drift further and further into sleep with each stroke.

"Sleep well, (Y/N). I will meet you in The Dreaming."

[armoricaroyalty]

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 / ❛ boy crazy ❜ part two (@nexility-sims)

When Zofia walked into a room, everyone noticed. It might have been the enormity of her hair or the constant noise of her rings and bracelets or else the overwhelmingly sweet scent of her favorite body mist, but she was captivating in every sense of the word. Hannah had been jealous of her, once upon a time. It would have been impossible to grow up with her without any jealousy: next to Zofia, everyone became shabby and dull. Ranks didn't matter at all, no title or royal honor could ever compete with that kind of natural charisma. Hannah loved her, but there had been days when she'd hated her, too. Now, though, she was only grateful. When Zofia walked in, nobody noticed the rest of them slipping out.

read part one here

author's note: @nexility-sims and I have been working on the zofia/rui romance since....early 2022? some time in 2021? since #rufia has completely dominated 2/3 of our joint brain power for years, it seemed fitting to finally let them out of our DM's to celebrate Love Day Valentine's Day. Happy V-Day, everyone!

Transcript under the cut.

CHEF | Aren't long nails against dress code, anyway? SERVER | [laughs] Girl, I don't give a fuuu— SERVER | You wanna know who else is wearing acrylics tonight? CHEF | [bored] I dunno, who? SERVER | Oh, nobody, just the Princess Zofia. CHEF | [gasps] CHEF | Shut. Up. You actually talked to her? What was she like? SERVER | She's fucking gorgeous. Like, obviously, but up close, she's even more beautiful. CHEF | Yeah, yeah, but what was she like? SERVER | Okay, so I didn't actually talk to her because she was all over her new boyfriend. They were like, so into each other. It was so sweet. CHEF | Really? I heard it's just a PR relationship so people will think she's over Sigis. SERVER | No way! They're obviously crazy abut each other. You can't fake— UNIDENTIFIED MAN | [offscreen] EVERYBODY OUT! HUGO | What, do I gotta say it again? All of you, clear out! HANNAH | [sighs] Please excuse us. HANNAH | My cousin and I need somewhere to speak privately. Will you please excuse us for a moment? CHEF | ??? SERVER | [shrugs] HUGO | ...anyway, did you see it? HANNAH | See what? HUGO | That stupid little hair flip. He did it a million times. HANNAH | He's growing it out for her. HUGO | Really? Hard to believe, he's so fucking vain. HANNAH | She told me she asked him to grow it long. [deep, beleaguered sigh] She thinks it's sexy. HUGO | What, are you for real? HANNAH | Oh yeah. She's always had a thing for guys with long hair. HUGO | ...huh. HANNAH | Anyway...what's your take? Personally, I don't see what she sees in him. HUGO | [snorts] He's better than Marshall. HANNAH | That's the world's lowest bar. Subterranean, in fact. HUGO | So what are we going to do? HANNAH | He's not a dog, we can't just run him off. HUGO | Well, you can't, but maybe if I— PIDGE | [offscreen] HEY! What are you two talking about? PIDGE | ...and why are you hanging out in the kitchen? ARTHUR | ....hi. HUGO | [icily] Farrier. HANNAH | It's late, Pidge. What are you still doing up? PIDGE | Uh, excuse you. Mama said I can stay until midnight. ARTHUR | ...you two aren't talking about Rui and Zofie, are you? HUGO | ... HANNAH | ...no. PIDGE | You two are such LIARS! PIDGE | Both of you are judgy control freaks! I thought he was really nice. HUGO | He could barely string a sentence together. ARTHUR | I mean...Armorican is his third or fourth language, isn't it? HUGO | Whatever! He gives me the creeps. HANNAH | Well, she says she's in love. HUGO | [scoffs] In love? They've known each other for six months. PIDGE | So? What if it was love at first sight? HANNAH | [exasperated] Pidge— HUGO | Just ignore her, she's fourteen. PIDGE | For your information, I'm fifteen. And I'll be sixteen in May, sooo— HUGO | Yeah, a baby— ARTHUR | Can I remind everyone that Zofia is twenty-two? She's an adult, she can make her own choices, and this is none of our business. HUGO | You're right, Farrier. It's none of your business. HANNAH | [offscreen] Hugo, enough. PIDGE | [mouthing] Rude. HANNAH | Arthur, what was your read? ARTHUR | I don't know, and I don't want to form a judgment until I've actually gotten to know him. He seems...fine? On par with the other guys she's dated. HANNAH | [sighs] "On par with all her other boyfriends" is the entire problem. HANNAH | I just don't want her to get hurt again. This happens every time, you know? She falls hard and fast and then the guy turns out to be a scum-sucking lowlife. PIDGE | [laughs] Hellooooo, what about Van? He was— HANNAH | Probably thw worst of all of them. Trust me, Pigeon. He's...he's no good. HUGO | [jokingly] You see, baby bird? That's why you're not allowed to date until you're thirty and why Hannah's gonna join a convent— PIDGE | No way, that's not fair. HANNAH | [tiredly] Hugo, shut up. No one asked. PIDGE | Yeah, Hugo. No one asked. ARTHUR | Look, I think we should at least give the guy a chance. HANNAH | [sighs] I guess we owe her that much. PIDGE | Guys, I actually talked to him, and trust me: he is like, sooo nice. HUGO | ... HUGO | I bet I could take him. PIDGE | Hey! Hannah, did you hear what he just said—

[rockkal]

HOMESTUCK BEYOND CANON NEXT UPD8(s) PREDICTIONS (I'm delusional, btw) /SHITPOST

We get to see Jack Noir be a pathetic little meow meow and has depression because he's too busy working at the mine coal to see his wife

The Felt come into the screen, also somehow snowman, and they all say "We voted for Obama" (this is very important homestuck lore, btw)

Brand new character called HEROIN ADDICT is introduced. Son of Karkat and Dave. Has a brother named John Egbert Strider Vantas

Clover flirts with Jane and gets sent to the weed dungeon. And not like the good weed. I mean like the weed that really feels like shit

Jake becomes new leader of the Felt and Crowbar becomes his dad (Crowbar dad AU, write that down, it'll be on the test)

We get to see Death, the character, talk with ULT Dirk and he brang along the Midnight Crew, Mom Lalonde B1 and Dad egbert because he thinks they're cool (also, Mom Lalonde and Dad Egbert kiss a lot in death's office and have tea and buscuits with the Midnight Crew)

CALIBORN COMES FOR A SINGLE PANEL AND MAKES JUNE OFFICIALLY TRANS! BECAUSE HE HATES JUNE AND HE HATES WOMEN SO HE COMBINES THE TWO THINGS HE HATES INTO ONE (this is a joke, btw. I honestly want June's transitioning to be more in character then just the gremlin guy I like does it for me)

Ms Paint. becomes narrator of both Candy and Meat and it's just a podcast about different types of paint

Something related to The Midnight Crew's creator, Professor Mayasaka or however the fuck ya spell it, something translated into midnight. Whatever. I just wanna see the professor man come in and do something

JANE REVIVES AIMLESS RENEGADE SOMEHOW AND HE GOES GOD TIER! (His Classpect is Mage of Blood because I say so)

Sollux and Eridan kissing

B

Roxy breaks the fourth wall and says "it's Roxy Lalonding time" and Roxy Lalondes all over the place

A bucket appears and yeah

We see Andrew Hussie in a bath robe

Terezi manages to give back the legal rights to Beyond Canon back to their creators (sorry, I forgot your name, mister cool homestuck guy. I forget easily :'(]

Vriska dies. (I hate Vriska! (In a Kismesis way))

Equius comes back to say "I require horse" and then he gets prototyped with the universe frog

Matchsticks gets a personality and we learn he wants to become an actual fire fighter and save people since he was a kid

Stitch becomes hella cool by partnering with Kanaya to beat the shit out of Dirk

Rose just stays Rose because I forgot she existed

21 again but with Dave

June Egbert gets two new dads and they're Eggs and Biscuits from The Felt because it reminds her of her dead dad's cakes

Diamonds Droogs/Draconian Dignitary x Dad Crocker 20 hour oiled up make out session flash animation

Calliope has a child with Roxy. (comment what ya think they would be called)

Dirk eats a baby (it's John Egbert Strider Vantas)

AR gets to have a robo body and becomes friends with AR and Aradia and also Aranea is there to keep them in check and they call eachother the "AR squad", but Aranea is the out cast because she is blue

Eden Gardner (homestuck OC of @springselkie) gets a mention.

Monkeys become relevant to the plot

Jack Noir gets to show us his stabs

Bold Eagles are Aimless Renegade's second power, because he's the only AMERUCAN character in homestuck

Jake gets a beard and celebrates by showing us his level 100 GYAT

What Pumpkin office remains is an important location in the story

Mommy Condie comes back and marries Earth C's version of Colonel sassacres

Freddy Fazber, new character, literally the best. Hor hor hor hor.

Something related to drugs, I guess (I'm running out of ideas)

Fortnite becomes canon and everyone loves it

Deltarune reference

Jack Noir eats money and becomes lamborghini

Jack Noir villain arc where he and June kiss (their kismesis, it's ok. They want to kill eachother)

Rose's wifi is STILL shitty! COME ON, IT'S BEEN 10 YEARS, FIX YOUR INTERNET CONNECTION, GURL!

Kanaya gets to make something Lord English related

We see Doc Scratch because he's awesome

Wayward Vagabond comes back from the grave and does ANOTHER revolution against monerchy. He is truly the best diplomat.

MLP gets mentioned

Problem Sleuth shows up for 5 panels and then dies

Nepeta gets to kill Pickle Inspector

Eridan smokes weed

[S] Terezi: Do the mackarena

Weed chapter

Karkat gets a period cramp

Something something Lord English in black void, becomes normal Caliborn, being room mates with Equius, Gamzee and AR (auto-responder)

Free Bird fight sequence

Joe Biden gets a mention because he was probably in office before the clown fuckers took over D.C. Washington

Cockaine chapter

MSPA reader gets hella blazed and yeah

Caliborn kisses a rule 63 version of a Miku body pillow

Pic Yaoi sequence or smth

Sawbuck stays a fat fuck and eats the earth at the end

Itchy dies from tripping on a rock

Doze unslows himself and does a break dance

Trace and Fin make out session

Quarters gets to shoot ULT Dirk and is declared a war veteran

Bog from RHG shows up to eat a chocolate bar

I'm high

Ok, that was the end of this dumb shitpost. Hope ya got a kick out of it. Or not.

Wait

Shit

I should probably add an image so that I could look cool

Give me a sec

Yes, God of Yaoi.

Perfect for this.

See ya

[benoitblanc]

hey arwen, long time no see!! hope you're doing well! 💜

i know nothing about txf besides what i've gleaned from this hellsite which is a) mulder is a lovable idiot, b) scully both loves him (almost against her will??), and c) they literally invented shipping BUT tell me about your top 5 txf episodes!!!

hi mitali i have been EXTREMELY patchy on here lately haven't i lol. local woman appears on tumblr to write ten meta posts about the x files and then disappears again! i'm doing okay; my real life has been kind of chaotic (had to last-minute cancel a trip i have been desperate to go on for years so :/ but! on the bright side it means i get to see my flatmates sooner than i thought and i miss them even though i've been gone from my flat for like a week and a half lol). how have you been???

those are very accurate txf vibes but i will say that scully is a very active and willing participant in being in love with mulder even though he can be very very stupid at times lol. i hope you watch it someday- i think it would be right up your alley! kind of similar doctor who ecological niche of being weird, heartfelt, politically relevant sci-fi with no consistent quality or tone.

ANYWAY. top 5 txf episodes, bearing in mind that i've technically only watched up until the end of the fourth season so far; i'm just a ho for spoilers:

pusher (3.17)... what can i say about pusher that i haven't said already. a lot, probably, because every single day i log on here and i see someone's written new meta about pusher that makes the entire show make more sense. it's just... it's txf distilled to its barest elements. it's about trust and codependency and a supernatural force that is made all the more unsettling by the fact that at its core it is just some guy. it's funny and terrifying and heartfelt all at once. the russian roulette scene changed television

clyde bruckman's final repose (3.04) is also just so txf. darin morgan (the writer) tended to write episodes that were so absurdist they wrapped back around to satirical, but this is far and away my favorite of his because it's not too bonkers. i love coprophages and from outer space especially, but clyde bruckman is a little more grounded, and it manages to be sarcastic and sincere in equal measure. and i love when scully gets to solve the mystery

irresistible (2.13), which is famous for being pretty much the only txf episode where there isn't actually an x-file. and it's SO fucked up. it is hands-down the most fucked up episode of the entire sh- well. besides the episode that they banned from reruns for like a decade for being so fucked up, it's hands-down the most fucked up episode of the entire show

beyond the sea (1.13) and paper hearts (4.10) are thematic sisters so i'm keeping them together. they're both about choosing to move past grief instead of wallowing in it and choosing the future over the past. so what if a criminal says they can give you the answers you've spent your whole life chasing? what matters is that you're at your partner's hospital bedside when he wakes up from an injury, or that you save a little girl's life

right now? probably ice (1.08), because i just rewatched it with my flatmate (who is going through s1 for the first time and is almost as obsessed as i am). it's like if midnight doctor who and the thing had a baby. normally i think this slot would go to duane barry/ascension/one breath (2.05/2.06/2.08) or nisei/731 (3.09/3.10), which are the tightest, tensest episodes relating to the show's overarching mythology

honorable mention goes to elegy (4.22) because the a-plot is a very 90s depiction of neurodivergence and it's not the best-handled thing i've ever seen, but the character showcase of scully in the b-plot gave me fucking brain worms. i cannot stop thinking about it. it's haunting.

also, memento mori (4.14). vince gilligan and gillian anderson you're splitting my therapy bill

ask my top 5/10 anything!!!

[demi-rxndxm-stxff]

Some DigitalTime Incorrect Quotes

Colin: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt. Tony: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

Tony: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. Colin: steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely Tony: That one. I want that one.

Tony: BE A BETTER PERSON! Colin: WHY?! Tony: BECAUSE SOMEONE NEEDS TO HAVE MORALS IN THIS RELATIONSHIP, AND IT SURE AS FUCK AIN'T GONNA BE ME, SWEETHEART! (Only added this one cause it was too damn funny)

Colin: We both look very handsome tonight. Tony: You know, if you'd just said that I looked handsome, I would have said, "So do you." Colin: I couldn't take that chance.

Tony: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake. Colin: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear. Tony: … Tony: You mean ring bearER, right? Colin: … Tony: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

Colin: Two bros! Colin: Chillin' in a hot tub! Colin: Zero feet apart 'cause we're GAY AS FUCK!

Colin: Hey, about that love letter you sent me- Tony: blushes What are your thoughts? Colin: The fourth sentence- Tony: Yeah, that’s where I got really emotional and I- Colin: It’s “you’re” not “your”.

Colin: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine. Tony: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again. Colin: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns?? Tony: Is it working?

Tony: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night? Colin: It was autocorrect. Tony: Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me."? Colin: Yes.

Tony: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response. Colin: Wow. They sound stupid. Tony: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense. Colin: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!” Tony: I guess you’re right. Hey Colin, I love you. Colin: See! Just say that! Tony: Holy fucking shit. Colin: If that flies over their head then, sorry Tony, but they're too dumb for you. Tony: Colin.

Colin: Okay, but if your not gay then why are you always holding my hand and kissing me and telling me I’m your boyfriend? Tony: Colin- Its satire! Colin: THAT'S NOT WHAT SATIRE MEANS!

Tony: I still have no idea how I’m attracted to you… Colin: Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me, and no take backs, honey.

Tony: You have to apologize to them Colin. Colin: Fine! But I must warn you that this might make me a better, nicer person and that is NOT the person you fell in love with!

Colin: Tony and I are no longer dating. Tony: Colin, that’s a horrible way of telling people we’re married.

Tony: I’m in love with you. Colin: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork. Tony: I know. Colin: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Colin: I'm trash. Tony: As someone who's environmentally conscious, it's my duty to pick you up. Does 7 work for you? Colin: Colin: You smooth motherfucker. Colin: And yes it does.

Colin: Relationships should be 50/50. Tony cooks us dinner while I sit on the kitchen counter looking pretty.

Tony: Are we fighting or flirting? Colin: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck- Tony: Your point?

Colin: So you like cats? Tony: Yeah. Colin: tries to impress them by slowly pushing a glass off the table

Colin: seductively takes off glasses Colin: Wow… Tony: blushes Haha… what? Colin: You're really fucking blurry.

Tony: I think I just figured something out. I got to go. Colin: Aren't you forgetting something? Tony: Uuh…hesitantly kisses Colin's forehead before running out. Colin: No, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?

Colin: The stars are so beautiful… Tony: They're just giant balls of gas. Colin: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then- Tony: And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you. Colin: Oh…

Colin: I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of our lives. Tony: I wake up at 4:30 AM every day to train. Colin: I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives.

[siberian-xanadu]

Hiii it's Violet misses her friend again hours!!! I hope you don't mind this little story I'm going to share, because it's something I think of every time I find myself in this state lol. So, back in January, around the New Year, I was hanging out in my sister's room after my friend had logged off for the night. It was only about seven or eight o'clock here, but he's 5 hours ahead of me, so it was around midnight to one in the morning there. This is important.

One thing you should know about me, for context, is that I've moved and changed school districts twice in my life. I moved in fifth grade from one school district to another, and then again between eighth and ninth grade. It's been hard to keep in contact with people from either district throughout high school.

So, my sister is scrolling on social media, and she finds the account of my elementary school classmate's sister, who announced my old classmate's death. Now, I wasn't particularly close with this kid; I spoke with him a couple times in elementary school, being in the same fourth grade class, but his mother was my fifth grade teacher (until I moved). What I do remember is that he was always nice to me, and his mother was a nice woman as well.

To be honest, it took me a moment to set in that this person from my childhood was now dead. In fact, it's been a few months and I'm not entirely sure if it has set in yet. It was a strange feeling. It is a strange feeling. Even though I hadn't seen him in six or seven years, and wasn't even that close in the first place, I knew that we were supposed to be starting our lives, not ending them in car wrecks.

So, in my shock, I messaged my friend on discord because I didn't really know how to react, or what else to do. I knew that we had said our goodnights about an hour before, and wasn't really expecting a response, but to my surprise, he got back to me within ten minutes.

Another thing you should know about me is that my standards for relationships (platonic in this case) are in turbo hell. I never really had a solid group of friends growing up, due to being neurodivergent and moving around a lot, and I certainly never got to the point where I would tell one of my friends about this.

And he got back to me within ten minutes. Not only that, even though he said he wouldn't be able to talk to me that night, he said that was because he wanted to help me in the way I deserved, and that he was thinking of me and that he loved me. What the fuck??? Like I said, my standards are in literal hell. This guy, that I met on this fucking hellsite that I've never met in person is a better friend to me than anyone I've known irl. Which is... sort of pathetic on my part, I suppose? But I guess it's also beautiful in a way; how two people can connect across oceans.

The story doesn't end there, however. The next day, true to his word, he sends me a "care package" (his words, not mine) of concert videos of all my favorite bands. I was in the middle of class when he sent it over, and I was, honestly, completely shocked. I don't think I'll ever forget that kindness. We had a long conversation that night over lots of things, partially about my classmate, partially about whatever we were talking about, but I think that's when I knew I finally had something real.

One last thing you should about me, and it's sort of a combination of moving a lot, never really forming solid friendships, and some issues with my mother (that is a whole 'nother can of worms) is that I have some anxiety around abandonment. I recognize it for what it is now, and do my best to not let it interfere with my relationships, but sometimes I do get anxious, and start trying to mentally prepare myself for the end of a relationship (romantic or platonic). So, I have to recognize I'm spiraling and I have to fight it off. Rereading those messages always grounds me and reminds me that it's all in my head.

I really didn't intend to write this much, but whatever! I feel it's got a good message, I think.

[oillydiya]

Things Between Us | Cillian Murphy x OC

Chapter 9 : After Goodbye

New Ross Hotel, Ireland

Cillian traveled from London to a hotel in New Ross. that the team had prepared for him to rest for filming the movie over the next two months. He lay on the bed, exhausted and weak, his eyes staring at the ceiling and thinking about various stories. Happening today and the night before! Damn it! He swears. Cillian couldn't help but feel happy. ' I'm starting to miss you again! ' He muttered to himself.

When thinking about the past He was crazy about Sansa. Even though he had just recently gotten to know and have a deep relationship with her, he felt like this girl from the first time he saw him. The more he became Her first man! That made him fall in love with her to the point that he couldn't withdraw now.

Sigh!!! He sighed, stopping to think about her for a moment.

Cillian began to return to serious mode. Prepare for work tomorrow He picked up the script and reviewed it. To understand the role he was given in a movie in which he acted about. He plays the role of Bill Furlong, a coal merchant exposes the bad things of that church. He had to read and prepare for the character he was given and had to start filming tomorrow morning. Because of this, he had to concentrate on his work very much. Because he is a professional actor

His first day on the job was rough. They continued filming until 2:00 a.m. Return to the hotel and go to bed to rest. Then wake up early and go straight to filming the next day. He works repeatedly. Like this every day! Until the fourth day of filming had passed. It is now six o'clock. Cillian didn't have a scene until 7 p.m. giving him time to rest and making him think of that girl Sansa!

"Crazy!" He cursed angrily. Cillian had completely forgotten her. He didn't call her at all. From the day he and she said goodbye to each other That day he told Sansa before leaving that I'll call you! But he hasn't called or contacted her at all. He felt guilty! Cillian immediately picked up his cell phone and called her.

The first call went through…………. Sansa didn't answer.

The second and third calls ........... She still didn't answer.

The young actor quickly dug through her business card in her bag to see her email address.

To. Sansa Arthur " Hello, Sansa. I'm Cillian. How are you? I miss you so much. If you received this email Please call me back. "

He immediately sent an email.

"Cillian, it's time for your scene." The staff walked in and called out to the older male actor. This caused him to put his cell phone away and return to the scene.

Cillian spent over three hours filming the scene at the bar. The time now is 10 p.m. He returned to the cast room to see if Sansa had called him back. There are no incoming calls. There was only one email showing on his phone screen. He picked it up and read it expectantly.

To. Cillian Murphy " Hello Cillian. I'm fine. I just wanted to let you know. I have decided not to contact you any further. I'm here to review the past. Makes me think How inappropriate are we for each other? You are a very famous person. If someone finds out about us It must be very bad for you, so I think the following: We'd better not meet again. Goodbye, Cillian. I'm glad I sat next to you that day. in that restaurant! "

Cillian read the email twice. With a heart that falls to the ground, He felt confused. and it was like being punched in the tip of the chin. Before he could think of anything else, he was called to the set again! He couldn't concentrate at all. ' Dammit! ' Cillian said the wrong lines several times. Until he loudly cursed in anger at himself!

“Fuck!!” He was irritated and tired.

Until Steve had to come over to talk.

" Hey! What's wrong with you ?! You don't seem distracted. Would you like to take a break first?"

"I feel a little sick, Steve." He responded to a screenwriter friend.

Steve looked down at the clock.

"oh! It's already midnight. We had been filming for twelve hours. It's better to end the group today so you can rest." he told his fellow actors, patting his shoulder.

"Thank you very much. I need a break." Cillian walked out of the scene. Ready to pack up and return to the accommodation immediately.

Cillian lay down. Still wearing the character's outfit like that. ' Let's not meet again!! ' He reviewed the letters.

He sat and decided for a long time what to do next. Should he call her or email her back? But then he thought about it.

'this! What's wrong with him?' Cillian questioned himself. He had never shot a filming set before. Because it doesn't look professional. This is the first time! That he's like this And that made him very upset. The young actor decided to Get up and pick up the script to read and understand it again.

He practiced his lines like that for most of the night. ' He must be a professional.' Cillian thought and fell asleep.

The next day

Today he is ready to continue filming as usual. Cillian concentrated returned to focus and did his best throughout the day. Because it was the last day of filming of the week before he had a break this coming weekend, he was going to have a break...!

[anthroparis]

What's your take about bonsars relationship

if you're looking for me to slander bonsar or go "it's romantic or platonic no in between!" you are in the wrong place, compadre. I'm aromantic. I don't believe that a relationship has to be romantic at all to be considered a relationship. I'm romance-repulsed and still date people, and it's rarely ever a problem. I'm someone's (more than just one someone, technically) girlfriend and I'm still avoidant of explicitly romantic scenes.

so the question for me is more like, would bonnie and caesar, as characters, want to label each other as partners?

like, when I look at bonnie, I see someone who may not be wholly comfortable just jumping into labels like that. as they said in the romcom ep, they just got used to having friends, and rushing into relationships seems like something that would ultimately be bad for them.

caesar seems a little conflicted on what he wants, but he understands his personal feelings a little more- he's said it himself, he and bonnie are soulmates. they're a team. but he's hung up on what that means of them, and how they should proceed.

we had a similar argument back in the day about the rr ice dancers. there were people arguing for them romantically, people arguing for them platonically, people stating that they wouldn't be attracted to each other because x is gay and x is pan and x is so-and-so, and my stance has always been Who Give a Fuck.

sometimes people are just in love with each other in a way that's not platonic, nor romantic, nor sexual, but a secret fourth thing that either combines some or all of these elements or exists completely outside of them. I would consider my relationship with gideon to be something on its own entirely, and I think a lot of aro4aro couples (whether they include aroace or alloaro people) would share a similar sentiment.

if I had to explain bonsar in terms of my own relationship, it's this:

they're not quite in love in the traditional sense, but they are absolutely not friends. they love each other more than anything. they understand each other like no one else can. if everything goes to shit and they end up furious and alone, they'll still love each other, even if they could never admit that. they have a playful, friendly dynamic that's observed between friends, and a deep love of each other that most would associate with lovers. they hold hands in public like it's the most natural thing in the world. caesar is the only person bonnie feels comfortable expressing physical affection to. bonnie is the only person caesar feels comfortable talking to about his thoughts. bonnie started carrying bandaids on them after they met because caesar trips a lot and never remembers them. caesar was the only person to remember bonnie's birthday one year. they don't necessarily understand each other's taste in music, but that's okay, they know they don't have to be the exact same to enjoy each other's company. sometimes bonnie will start talking and then realize they've been going on for ten minutes straight because caesar doesn't stop them. when caesar rambles, he always gets surprised that bonnie will add on and listen actively because he's so used to people ignoring the mundane details about his life. sometimes bonnie gets quiet and doesn't want to talk about what's going on in their head and caesar holds them until they feel good again. sometimes it's the other way around. they cut each other's hair. they have sleepovers. they kiss, and it isn't a big deal. they talk about bad movies and good albums. they send each other pictures of the sky when they're apart. they share clothes. they argue about whether spring or autumn is better. they go over to each other's houses and bake cakes at midnight because they couldn't sleep. they go to the library together. they sit on swing sets and share earbuds. they can talk for a week straight or not talk for a month and their relationship remains unchanged. what they have is undoubtedly, irrefutably, love. not romantic love. not platonic love. just love.

is that so hard for people to understand?

[shadowthief78]

Go On & Tear Me Apart

Short ficlet, Bachira Meguru x reader, Blue Lock.

CW unhealthy relationships and bad mental health, etc

.

Bachira knows you two are bad for each other. He knows it, Isagi knows it, hell, probably half the world knows it given how thoroughly and devaststingly the press chronicles each and every little detail.

Him drinking too much the night before a game. You, storming out of his apartment building with your hands balled into fists amd hair still wet. The both of you glaring sullenly and trading snippy insults over a reservation neither of you are willing to cancel.

So when he's out at midnight and the world is spinning, it takes him a good minute to remember that the reason he's so dizzy is because you are no longer there. He texted you a rigidly composed breakup hours before and immediatly turned his phone over to Isagi and Chigiri's custody before going out.

It takes him hardly any effort to slip the phone from Isagi's bag and into his own pocket during the taxi ride home, Isagi, after all, is also barely able to stand up straight. He makes it back to his apartment and fumbles with the key, leaning heavily against the doorframe.

He blinks when he opens the door. The floor is covered in his uniform, separated into neat pieces, scattered everywhere.

His muddled mind jumps toward you. His vision blurs and he sees the wisps of his monster rise up again. It takes his breath away for a second.

How many years has it been since he sealed it away? It gives him that familar grin, reaches down, and seems to delight at the systemic and calculated revenge you left. Something moves out of the corner of his eye, the faint trace of another entity. His breath catches. It's you, or at least, a trace of you.

You have a monster too. It told you to do this and it listened. He can imagine you, sitting here, burning with cold rage as he drank himself silly, confident that he would be away long enough for you to plan and execute all this.

You pick up on the fourth ring. "Did you do this to all my clothes?" He asks, picking up half a jersey neatly pulled apart st the seams.

"I put sugar in your gas tank too," you say, sounding only slightly drunk. "Fuck you. I don't care about anything anymore."

Bachira sits down, missing the edge of the cushionless sofa (the pillows are somewhere across the room) and landing on the floor, wedged between the coffee table and an armchair, legs tangled and cramped. "I still love you."

"Fuck off," you spit through the phone. "It's not even been a day and you want me back already?"

"Yes," he says, only half awake. "Your monster is beautiful. We--" It's getting harder to keep his eyes open. "I'm not mad, really. We'll never be lonely again."

Your voice is wary when you ask, "You promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Good," you say. "Next time, I really will make sure you die."

Danger kink, thy name be Bachira Meguru.

[fullmetalanglican]

A religious Christmas

I am a single and a solitary person. I don't have a lot of living family, and I'm not close to those who remain: a niece, her son my great-nephew, a stepdaughter I'm estranged from after divorce and then the death of her father, my ex-husband, from cancer. I live alone with my cockatiel Sunny for company (and I had a lonely year between the death of my longtime bird friend Rembrandt and Sunny's coming home with me a year ago).

I don't say this to arouse pity, just to give you a picture of where I am. It has been a decade since my Christmas involved family dinners, gift exchanges, or children of any age. It's also been nearly that long since my Christmas involved any Christianity.

As a devotee of Antinous, I used to observe Saturnalia, the Roman winter festival that contributed some of its customs (lights, evergreens, gift-giving) to Christmas celebrations. Saturnalia is a topsy-turvy time that harks back to the golden age when Saturn and his wife Ops were the chief deities, before the decline into strife and war, hierarchy and oppression, when the gods' gifts of grain and produce were sufficient for human happiness. For a few days servants become masters, children rule over parents--and then it's over, back to the old grind.

Then Saturnalia kind of faded out, for me. It's been a couple of years since I really celebrated anything at the winter solstice. This year, however, I have actually observed Advent and am ready to welcome Christmas as not just a holiday but a holy day.

Advent is four weeks of anticipation, looking forward to the Second Coming, back to the birth of Jesus, and inward to the presence of Christ coming to be with us. In the early Middle Ages, some places observed a six-week Advent, from around St. Martin's day on 11 November--about the same stretch of time as between Samhain and Yule in the neopagan Wheel of the Year. This year I set up my Advent wreath and lit its candles every night during Evening Prayer; I'm going to try to get a picture of it this evening, the last night for this year, with all four candles lit.

Tomorrow morning at church we'll observe the Fourth Sunday of Advent. Then, in the afternoon, the noble Altar Guild and their helpers will change the hangings, set out extra candles, distribute greens and poinsettias everywhere, set up the creche and a Christmas tree, in time for the first Christmas Eve service at six p.m. (This happens whenever Advent IV lands on December 24th.) Later, the choir will sing a carol prelude and then Midnight Mass starting at ten-thirty.

I have spent many Christmas Eves attending and also singing at Midnight Mass. I used to be a member of the choir at my church, under my then-husband's direction, first as a volunteer, then as a paid performer. I would get the occasional solo on Christmas Eve, and almost invariably catch a cold and fuck up my voice when I did. I still tell myself, every year, "I don't have a Christmas solo, so I'm not going to get sick!"

I'm not going to Midnight Mass; I just don't think I have the spoons for it. Maybe next year... maybe not. But there's a Low Mass, no singing, at ten a.m. on Christmas Day, and I plan to be there, wearing a silly Christmas sweater. I bravely bought myself a proper ham to cook (wish me luck), and I have plenty of seasonal music to listen to. What is important this year is not whether I got any presents (I did get gifts from a couple of friends) or whether I partake of group jollity (did that at work), but the Incarnation, the Word made flesh, the story of the Creator of everything joining the world of their creations and living their life so that we created beings can join their world and live the divine with them. And that makes for a pretty good Christmas.

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and good wishes for all celebrations at this time of year.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Caro's July 2023 Book Rec Wrap Up

I can't believe this month is over. It's been rough out here, and I'm not feeling great still, but reading always offers a bit of respite.

I feel like my tastes were fairly varied this month. I loved dipping more into fantasy romance, and I really hope to see more of it published soon!

Tastes like Shakkar by Nisha Sharma. ARC; full review here

Marry Me by Midnight by Felicia Grossman. ARC; full review here.

The Winter King by C.L. Wilson.

Ugh, just an amazing book. Exactly what I want from a high fantasy romance: a fun world full of magic and court politics; a couple forced together by circumstance and distrusting one another while also being super attracted to each other; a powerful hero and a kickass heroine. High stakes! Passion! Twists and turns! There are ice powers in this, lightning powers, bangathons on a bearskin rug, the intense need for an Heir (otherwise known as: breeding vibes), the possibility that the hero might just throw the heroine out onto a glacier. People feel feelings and refuse to cop to them because trauma. I had so much fun. A must read. (As is The Sea King, but generally speaking I would say reading them in order is a good idea.)

We Could Be So Good by Cat Sebastian.

Cat Sebastian just does what she wants, and I appreciate that so much. How many historical romances are a) set in the 1950s and b) centered on a pair of opposite-personality male reporters living together (as friends!) after one of them gets dumped by his fiancee? There is so much fucking tension built between Nick and Andy. And so much fondness too, with practical Nick basically making sure that Andy doesn't trip and fall down a proverbial flight of stairs at any given moment. It's funny, it's a little angsty without being overwhelming, and it's so, so tender.

An Earl to Remember by Stacy Reid. ARC; full review here.

Servant to the Spidae by Ruby Dixon.

This is the fourth in Dixon's Aspects and Anchors series, and in many ways it's basically a novella, though she doesn't categorize it as such. It's closer to the length of her Ice Planet Barbarians books than the previous novels in this series, and it's basically a feel your feelings plotless love story about a former sex worker falling in love with the three creepy spider gods (very human-looking, but they.... shoot web...........) she's pledged herself to in service. It's a lot of sex, a lot of emotion, and while swords do not cross, there is a scene in which every hole is filled. It's what you want out of this kind of story (though I will say, I don't loooove how this series deals with Yulenna's status as a sex worker, and never have; it's not egregious, but it's clumsy).

The Making of a Highlander by Elisa Braden.

I love love love several of Braden's Rescued from Ruin (straight up English Regency, connected to this series) series, but I do think it went on for a bit too long and the heroines especially became repetitive. That's why I didn't rush to begin her Midnight in Scotland series. I am glad that I took the break, because I went into this fresh, and I found it so strong. It's funny, it's got just the right amount of angst, it's a bit bonkers, the hero is absolutely deranged for his heroine.. Like John Huxley is starving. It's what you want out of a lighter (but not too light) historical romance. Special shoutouts to a fabulous Pretty Woman homage, and one of the best "Oh I WANT her" realizations I've read in a long time.

The Taming of a Highlander by Elisa Braden.

Ugh, so good! I love a scarred hero, especially if he's a former golden boy, and this novel deals with Broderick's trauma and scars so well. It does take a little longer to get into the love story than the previous book, but once it kicks into gear, it really goes for the full nine yards. You have batshit shenanigans, a heroine who literally watches this man's erection get bigger and bigger through his pants while she talks about how many babies she's willing to give him, and mortal peril. This series gives such good Scotland content. Also? It's hilarious. The heroine literally bops into this guy's bedroom with breakfast singing a made-up song about his dick coming out to play. She's thrilled.

The Basilisk of Star Manor by Kathryn Moon.

I really liked this little novella, my first basilisk book. And I loved the heroine--a blind, virginal woman who's decided to become a sex worker for monsters. There is a lot of descriptive dirty talk, sensation play, orgasms on horseback... But it's all surprisingly sweet. I had a good time. Also, effective use of a monster tail!

The Temptation of a Highlander by Elisa Braden.

I am nothing if not a sucker for "Scottish Man Big" historicals, and this is nothing if not that. It may or may not be the first historical I've read wherein the heroine has a psycho stalker, and that does give way to an excellent bodyguard romance. Clarissa's inability to say anything without letting slip a double entendre is classic Elisa Braden hilarity, and while there are some quibbles I have with the story... It's just so old school, in a way. I mean, they have shared sex dreams. What's not to like about that?

The Wrong Guy by Kate Canterbary.

I feel like I'm the only person in the world who didn't love In a Jam, but this book was a total turn around for me. Snappy, snarky, super sexy contemporary enemies to lovers with a 39 year old heroine and a 42 year old hero. I mean... come on. The hate sex is legit, the feelings are even more so once they develop (and they don't develop instantly) and it feels like these are real people with flaws and dreams and pain and love. Also, she gets her period during one sex scene and he's like "what do you think I am??? A child???" and just. Goes to town.

One Season with the Duke by Addy Du Lac.

A fun, emotional, and super romantic interracial historical romance, and the rare friends to lovers book that works for me. I think this book's quality is a testament to why it is important to build a world within your historical romance. While I'm not a stickler for accuracy by any means, having the sense of the Scottish with this book really added to its overall sense of space and stakes. And ultimately, it was just heartwarming to see two people sort of brought together by necessity working to make a life with one another.

Since the Surrender by Julie Anne Long.

A rare book in which the couple knows each other because they cheated together while her husband was alive! Cheating is probably a strong-ish word--I mean, they did make out, but otherwise it was largely an emotional thing, and temptation. But it makes the beef real (because our hero actually super liked and respected said dead husband) when these two come back together, and the tension is thick. There's a bit of a mystery and a bit of an adventure, and ultimately two people desperately trying to convince themselves that they don't want to jump into bed together at a moment's notice. NICE.

A Lesson in Thorns by Sierra Simone.

I mean... Good God. Sierra is really making her own specific space in romance, and I respect it so fucking much. She knows what she's about, she's uncompromising in her vision, and she just goes balls to the wall. This is like... an occult... romance? Fantasy? Paranormal? Definitely super erotic, and not a little dark. Oh, and there's an orgy. And over half of our six-person group is made up of virgins (though uh, we're down to one virgin left standing by the end). It's intensely emotional and the ties that bind and the messages left unsaid are thick. I am fucking hooked, and a bit blown away.

[mechanicalsquid]

feeling the Eldest Daughter Syndrome™ a bit lately plus other ✨ emotions ✨ so this is a little rambly, venty post about that.

(tw's for some very brief mentions of depression and anxiety)

I want to be a kid again. When was the last time I was a kid? carefree? was I ever a kid? in elementary school I was the "gifted kid", the "mature" one, always put on a pedestal as the example for my brothers. always used as a comparison. my parents asking "why can't your brothers be more like you?" what they saw was a daughter with straight A's while a leader on their robotics team, a successful athlete, and balancing other clubs. this is what they saw up through college, 8+ years of this. 8-12 fucking years. over half my life. what they didn't see was how much that broke me. they never saw that I would wake up at 4:30 in the morning (a habit started in fourth grade) in order to do my homework. because I a) couldn't focus after school due to likely having undiagnosed adhd, and b) was so exhausted. by the end of high school, my typical routine was: up between 5-6, do homework, go to school from 7-2:30, go to cross country/track/robotics from 3-5, and then would often stay till 6 or 7 doing extra testing or drive practice for robotics, go home to eat and do dishes and maybe attempt more homework before passing out at midnight. my entire life revolved around school and extracurriculars, never proper time for friends. a similar story through college. they didn't see how much of myself was lost after pouring it into college. the burnout that resulted. they never saw the panic attacks or breakdowns, how bad my mental health declined, the nights crying myself to sleep because everything was so overwhelming and because I would be a disappointment if I didn't perform to the expectations set for me. because the one time I did tell my mom that I felt depressed, she invalidated my feelings and said that maybe I was just anxious and should just try eating better. because later that summer, after a camping trip with friends, she told me that "being depressed isn't an excuse and you need to suck it up" because I didn't engage "properly" and "wasn't having fun" with everyone. I can't show negative emotions without consequences. I must always be happy. I must always be on my best behavior. I must be the role model. perfect. always perfect. no mistakes. If I fail, no, if /I'm/ a failure all Hell breaks loose. I'm an awful daughter (where did my mom go wrong? what did she do to deserve this?). if I do something wrong or make a mistake then I'm terrible. if my brothers make a mistake or forget to do something, it's my fault for not reminding them (even though one is almost 20). all outrage, all emotions are directed to me. through me. I will never have the peace after a hurricane. if my parents are able to calmly talk to my brother about a task or something he did wrong, it's likely because they have no rage left after using it on me, leaving me a sobbing mess. I will always take the blame, whether by choice or not. will take the brunt of the force, protecting my brothers without them knowing. they will never know. defending my youngest brother before my mom can yell at him (her form of communication. she wonders why my brothers and I have a hard time properly communicating with each other. I don't). being his parent for 12 years so he actually has one. so he can experience kindness and compassion. so he actually has someone who understands what he's dealing with with his adhd and doesn't just dismiss him or yell at him because of the way his symptoms present. trying to re-parent myself in the process. being scared of myself whenever I become my parents. trying to rid myself of them. of their anger. of their disappointment. of all of it. will I ever be rid of it? will I ever be just me? how long will their rage consume me? have I already been consumed? when did they corrupt me? I want to be a kid again. was I ever a kid? can one be a kid if they are their own parent? I will always be the parent, the therapist. the one my parents and friends vent to. the one trying to fix everyone else. the one who needs fixing. I want to be fixed. I want to be loved. I don't want to be a parent anymore. I want to be a kid. I will never be a kid.

[eldritchsurveys]

1160.

Have you ever read the Hunger Games series? >> I did! blazed through them during a trip to a friend's wedding. I have to reread them now though because that was 4 years ago and now that the new book is out I want to refresh my memory and then read the new one (and finally make an actual decision about whether I'm going to watch the movies or not)

When was the last time you ran into something? >> the way the doorways are set up between my room, Sparrow's room, and the bathroom... they're really close together in a 3-sides-of-a-cube way, and then the kitchen is where the fourth side would be, so there's this really tight turn going to and from my room and the kitchen and I run into the wall corners all the time because of that. so it was probably that.

Do you enjoy dressing up? >> I very much do, but it's also energy-intensive (not just the act of dressing, but the sustained effort of being in that dressed-up state for hours), so I wouldn't want to do it often.

Do you live in the city or a rural area? >> city

Would you say you have a sense of style? >> I can't imagine what it would be for a sapient being (who isn't a hermit or monk or otherwise removed from general society) to not have a sense of style

What’s your biggest fear? >> incarceration Have you ever been bitten by a wild animal? >> haven't

Are you close to any of your cousins? .

Have you ever been lost in the woods? >> haven't. never been in big enough woods for that, I don't think

Where did you last travel? >> Lansing

Do you enjoy driving? .

What song did you last listen to? >> The Birth / Fata Sidus Oritor / One of Us Must Die from Metalocalypse: Doomstar Requiem If you have a job, how often do you work? .

What time do you normally go to sleep at night? >> I've shifted my bedtime from 22:00 to midnight because of the upstairs neighbour. it's been okay so far, I guess, although it is a bit disorienting still

Do you watch a lot of movies? >> absolutely. this year's official total is 226! maybe 227 if I watch one today. Do you like Tom Petty? >> I don't know anything about him or his music. I'm not even 100% sure he's a musician

Would you rather have snow or rain? >> well... if it's winter I'd rather have snow because it's appropriate and also because rain would just turn into sheets of ice, which, no fucking thank you. but generally I would prefer to live somewhere that just didn't get snow at all Do you own a lot of sweaters? >> I don't

Have you ever tried rock-climbing? >> haven't

Ever ridden in a police car? >> a few times. do not recommend

Favorite decade of music? .

Have any of your best friends been your best friend longer than a year? .

Ever witnessed a murder? >> can't say that I have

Do you care what people think of you? >> if it's someone I feel something for, or that has some measure of influence over my life, then yeah. if not, then no Does your room have a ceiling fan? >> it does not Would you consider yourself poised? >> that doesn't seem an accurate descriptor of me Have you ever tried blogging? >> sure, but then microblogging happened and I never looked back

Favorite television channel? . Have you ever lied under oath? >> never been under oath in the first place What are your religious views? >> I don't have "religious views" as such, I don't think? I just vibe with what I vibe with and leave the rest for others to vibe with

Are you a romantic person? >> sure, but not necessarily in a way you might recognise as such When did you last change your bed sheets? >> this past Wednesday Would you consider yourself a flirt? >> I wouldn't

At what age do you plan to be married? >> I didn't plan for it, but I got married at 32

Do you eat a lot of junk food? >> I don't judge food in this fashion When did you last go on vacation? >> April 2022

Are you resilient? >> I suppose so, although I have complicated feelings about that concept as a whole

Have you ever failed a subject before? >> have

If so, what was the class? >> English

Do you wear more bright or dull colors? >> dull/desaturated

Do you know anyone who has attempted suicide? >> I mean, statistically, I most likely know several people who have

What’s your favorite quote? . Would you consider yourself mature? >> I just don't care about the concept of maturity at all How many clocks are in your house? >> exactly one (it's my Dark Tower clock and it's not actually in use because I hate the ticking sound. it's just a decoration)

Do you play any sports? >> I do not

What is your biggest life regret? .

Have you ever been injured in a car accident? >> haven't

If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be? .

Have you ever had highlights in your hair? . Favorite fast food restaurant? >> Popeye's, I guess

In what country were you born? >> USA Are your eyes more than one color? >> they are not, they're just dark brown Have you ever caught something on fire? >> sure

What would you consider your biggest flaw? . What do you think your best quality is? >> I can't rank my qualities like that, they all have so much value to me

Do you enjoy listening to others’ problems? >> enjoy??? lol no, not unless they're like soap-opera levels of drama or something Do you keep any plants in your house? >> I have two in my room and there's a few in the rest of the apartment

What is your mother’s occupation? .

Do any of your friends like your musical style? .

What are you most looking forward to? >> playing some video game later on

What was your favorite television show as a child? .

Are you afraid of insects? >> amn't! I love bugs

Are you cold-natured? >> possibly

How old were you when you got your first pet? >> like toddler-age Did you / do you enjoy high school? >> I did not enjoy it in the slightest

What would you say was your favorite age? . What annoys you most about social networking? .

Are you the center of attention most of the time? >> I'm never the center of attention

What are you currently reading? >> PDA by PDAers by Sally Cat (well, compiled by her)

When did you last go to the library? >> whoof

Are you ill at the moment? >> I wouldn't say so, my very short bout of sinusitus seems to have been neatly resolved by putting a damn humidifier in my room finally. I do have a minor cough (probably from spending all Monday using my damn voice when I normally don't talk for like days on end, and also vaping lol), but it's nothing to write home about Do people tease you about anything? >> I mean, Sparrow does, in a banter way How late did you stay up last night and why? >> midnight, because that's my current bedtime

Have you ever written poetry? >> long time ago

Curtains or shades? . How many people have you spoken to in the last hour? >> zero Do you tend to text a lot? >> I don't text at all Ever lost a great best friend? .

What is your favorite kind of flower? >> sunflower, dandelion Do you own any guns? >> I do not

What would you say is your favorite book of all-time? >> I wouldn't say that about any book Do you think you’re living a good life? >> I think I'm doing my best with what I've got and my best can be pretty damn good sometimes ngl

What’s your least favorite part of the day? >> whenever I have to do A Task Are you an over-achiever? >> amn't, my perfectionist impulse comes out in other ways

Have you ever won an award for a speech? >> haven't Do you tend to curse a lot? >> you know it

Have you ever played on the Ouija board? >> haven't ever gotten to do this

Do you sleepwalk? >> I do not

Have you ever slept on the floor before? >> slept on a floor for years

Are you a fan of public displays of affection? >> I don't have any feelings or opinions about this and I'm fascinated by how strongly people seem to feel about them

When did you last attend a yard sale? >> whew

Do you wish your life were simpler or more interesting? >> I have this constant feeling that my life is Not Interesting Enough and I'm starting to figure out that it's basically because I feel like I have to perform some kind of grandiosity or interesting-ness in order for people to give an iota of a fuck about my existence but frankly I think my life is really interesting and complex already, but it's all very internal and personal and not like... shiny glitzy stuff I can post on social media, yknow

What goals do you wish to accomplish tomorrow? >> tomorrow is the first of January! I don't know what I'm going to do to mark that occasion yet. also there's the dinner at Sparrow's parents' house that happens every New Year's

When is your birthday? >> May 28 Which is worse: going blind or deaf? >> I couldn't say, but also I feel like it's a bit inconsiderate to be like "oh having this disability would be SO AWFUL wow my life would be OVER" so casually when people with these disabilities very much exist and are living their lives every single day and I imagine them having to experience people going "man if *I* was blind I would just fucking DIE" has got to suck

What was the best part of today? >> I've only been up for a few hours but it's been pretty ok! I watched some YouTube and had sweet potato gnocchi and chai and I'm just vibin

Do you attempt to stay away from drama? >> I don't even have to attempt, I just don't attract any/am never in situations where drama is happening What liquid did you last drink? >> tea

Do you ever prefer to be alone? >> most of the time, yeah Have you ever had a deadly animal as a pet? .

Favorite Disney movies >> Lilo & Stitch, Enchanted, the POTC series (most of them, anyway) Have you ever been to the beach? >> I have

If you have, how many times have you been? >> like... quite a few

What was your dream occupation at age ten? . Are you terrified at the idea of weight-gain? >> hmm. I have complicated feelings about weight gain because I'm very much a "weight is a neutral property as is health etc" type bitch and I think the insane social messaging around fatness is ridiculous as well as harmful, but I've also lived fully immersed in this society my entire life so the messaging lives inside me whether I want it to or not. and that's what I'm most angry about, because I feel like I can't even form my own fucking opinion and feelings about my body and any potential weight it might gain. I have to constantly fight to maintain my actual values and remind myself of my actual self-appreciation. so yeah, I'm knee-jerk afraid of gaining weight, because I Live In A Fucking Society, but I also think I probably will not vary from my current weight range anyway unless I develop a condition or something, in which case I'll deal with that when the time comes (and I will probably deal with it by spitefully loving it out loud until it starts feeling true)

Do you drink a lot of water? >> I would prefer not to (I hate peeing lmao) Does your room have carpet or hard-wood floors? >> hardwood

Do you take naps daily? >> I don't, but I want to start making space for naps because after observing the patterns, I think my body is probably most comfortable with a 6hr nighttime sleep and a half-hour midday nap

Who were you named after? >> my name belongs only to me

Do you plan on traveling this spring or summer? >> can't make plans like that, the money situation isn't stable enough

Do you know anyone who is colorblind? >> we were at Lotus Brew for their "we're shutting down and moving to a new location after this" party and there was a person there who was like "I'm gonna play this game that's all about how good your colour vision is, because I'm colourblond and it would be funny" they also were wearing a red-and-black tie with like, a grey shirt, I think? and they were like "yeah, this tie matches because it's... it's grey, right? it's also grey?" they didn't know it was also red LMAO like it still matched and looked great but the "NO WAY. IT'S RED????" was hilarious

Have you ever been a teacher’s pet? >> I was, because I was precocious and also completely inept at interacting with people my own age

What is your absolute favorite hobby? >> video games

How many times a day do you brush your teeth? >> once

Ever been to a tanning bed before? >> haven't

Are you satisfied with your financial stability? >> what financial stability

Who is your favorite actor / actress? >> Tony Todd

Are your nails painted? >> they aren't What’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to someone? >> whatever it was, it's probably something I've forgotten but they remembered for a long time afterward. because that's usually how this sort of thing goes

Do you ever accidentally talk to inanimate objects? >> not accidentally

What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream? >> Trader Joe's horchata

Have you ever kissed someone of the same gender? >> pretty sure everyone I've kissed has had some sort of gender but I have none (none that make sense in human terms, certainly), so,

Do you receive any hate mail? >> I do not Have you ever sent a letter in the mail? >> many moons ago

If you could, would you have a pen pal? >> I wouldn't, I don't think I have the kind of disposition that makes it easy or fulfilling to keep up a slow long-distance textual correspondence with me What color are the pants you’re wearing? >> grey

Have you ever had a stalker? >> haven't

What is your life philosophy? .

Who last sent you a goodnight text message? .

Do you own any clothes that are your favorite color? >> just one, a scarf. I should go see if that sweater is still at the vintage shop now that I have a bit of money... it's so beautiful to me that it probably isn't, but maybe no one else cares about it the way I do LOL Have you ever been in a hot tub before? >> I have, for approximately 15 seconds before I thought my heart was going to explode so I had to get out

What’s your favorite comedy movie? .

In which year were you born? >> 1987

[snowflurried]

1989 Taylor's Version!!! :DDD

My opinions and talking about music! Very good time! Waffle too, for breakfast! Long post!

A girl has been a Taylor Swift enjoyer for about a decade so this is great for me. I'm livetweeting my opinions on the songs but I am reminded of just how lifechanging the original album was when it came out 9 years ago!

Back in 2014, my favourites were Shake It Off, Blank Space and Bad Blood. Back then though, when I watched the music video for Bad Blood, I didn't appreciate Kendrick's verse as much as I do now (which is A Lot, he's so fucking talented).

Recently, my favourites from 1989 are New Romantics and You Are In Love. Listening to these so far, being up to Out Of The Woods, I really like them all. They tickle my brain.

I think these versions are better than the originals so far! I'm interested in hearing how my favourite songs sound in this version, which I guess is going to be VERY GOOD.

There are some like All You Had To Do Was Stay, which I have never listened to before. But I like this one! I don't remember all the ones I have listened to, I may have listened to Clean or This Love or I Know Places. I know I haven't listened to I Wish You Would.

This is the fourth time I've listened to an album all the way through in order. First was Save Rock And Roll By FOB, second was Midnights, third was Renaissance by Queen Beyoncé (who I also stan) and now this one! It's weird I guess that I don't go through albums in order, I don't think I did with any P!ATD albums back in 2016, either, but that's when I listened to that FOB album.

I didn't really like the normal Bad Blood version because I only heard it after I grew to love the remix, but I'll see now what my opinions are. I'll compare it to the new remix version, interested to hear the difference in Kendrick's vocals!

The vibes of this album are like a peaceful cool breeze! Very nostalgic!

I like all the songs I have never heard before. Listening to Clean as I write this, I like the instrumental at the start. I like Wonderland's switch in pace towards the start, very exciting! What is also exciting is the fact that You Are In Love and New Romantics are next! My favourites!

Now I am thinking about how I listened to Midnights after finishing an assignment or something and it was an interesting and nice night! A year minus a day ago! The timings are crazy. My favs were Karma, Bejeweled, Lavender Haze, Question? and Mastermind apparently.

With the You Are In Love TV, I need to listen to it more to decide which I like better. This one is much softer. I like this version of New Romantics better, I feel like the instrumentals are softer and work better with her vocals. Feels more nostalgic and ethereal, too, definitely prefer this one I think.

VAULT TRACKS TIME!

"Slut!" is calmer than I thought it would be, I like the instrumentals for this one. It complements her vocals very well. The mixing is good and really fits!

Say Don't Go is nice, I don't feel like I have strong opinions. Until just now, the chorus is nice. Usually not a fan of clap noises like these in music or in general, but it works! It's like the song Hands Clap, it works in that song, too. Unless it's in an ad on TV (television, good to clarify lmao).

Now That We Don't Talk is very relatable to a situation from the fandom I'm in, looking at/listening to the lyrics. I do like this one, too. I feel like I'll grow to have favourite songs as I re-listen again and again. This is just the start. Wish this song was longer!

Suburban Legends reminds me of American college movies, even without me hearing the lyrics. Can picture this in one of those movies. Very much coming-of-age, girl moving out to university in like a city but very much still misses and identifies with the suburbs.

Is It Over Now? intrigues me with the instrumentals. The little "woo" sounds grab my attention. Kind of reminds me of Question? in Midnights, maybe it is in terms of subject matter and sound, a little? This sounds similar to the build-up of Out Of The Woods. I like it.

Bad Blood feat. Kendrick!!! Kendrick's verse bits sound a bit different, especially in the "ain't quite sincere no more" part. There are also these sounds that I can't describe that are now in here and they really catch my attention. Also, am I hearing a tambourine? I don't know! Would have to listen and compare this with the other one to decide which I like more. it is good!

To summarise, really like this album! I think Welcome to NY stands out to me a lot, may be moving up my favourites list! Wonderland was one I had never heard that I really like! Maybe Clean, too. New Romantics is better in this version in terms of instrumental and mixing. I don't think any of these songs are worse than the originals, although I haven't heard all the originals. Taylor did a great job and I'm excited for Rep TV!!! Dress and Delicate TV are gonna destroy me in the best way possible.

[rustedhearts]

Pretty Boy (Boxer!Steve x Librarian!fem reader)

summary: a look into the mind of our favorite brooding boxer; steve has a hard time opening up to you.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the steve collection ♡ ♡ the king of the ring ♡

warnings: mention of nightmares, trauma talk!: mention of childhood + domestic abuse, steve has some deep-rooted insecurity, angst, hurt/comfort, allusion to smut at the end + soft steve :(

a/n: told from steve’s pov! in writing his pov, I tried to mimic his voice, the writing may seem a little unsophisticated at times. Steve struggles to find words sometimes.

seattle, washington june 1990

When Libby sleeps, she looks like an angel.

Somehow, she always dozes off facing me. Her lashes flutter for a few moments, and then they still. Her lip quivers, her nose twitches, and then they stop. When she searches for me in her sleep, I let her take my hand. She never remembers in the morning, and I allow myself this moment of secrecy. A moment of affection I don't have to pretend to dislike.

And when Libby sleeps, she never has nightmares. She wakes in the morning, well-rested and bright-eyed.

She knows nothing of mine.

It was easier to hide them when we slept apart, and though I'd rather die than be apart from her even in sleep, sometimes I wish for an empty bed to kick and scream at when I wake at midnight for the fourth time this week with the sound of my father's voice in the room. It's fucking stupid, how much the fucker lives in my head. The day I walked out of his house, I swore I'd never think of him again—but I have yet to escape him.

So, when Libby wakes—and I've just spent the last few hours trying to lull myself back to sleep—I take comfort in her voice. It's ridiculous, really, how easily it soothes me.

"Good morning, Stevie," she cooed this morning, stirring in my arms and searching blindly for my head.

Her hand—small, scented of the remnants of her indescribable perfume: like vanilla but not quite, something sweet and flowery but not so much that I have to sneeze, but whatever it was made my chest feel tight every time—skated across the back of my head.

The first time she did that, brushed the hair at the back of my head down with her palm, feathered her fingers through it, I think I shivered. Nobody's ever done that. Before Libby, I never wanted anyone to touch my hair. It was something my mother never did, and now I didn't know how to bear it. But now, I never want Libby to stop. How fucking stupid is that?

So much so, that when she took her hand away, I wanted to reach out and snatch it back, place it back into my hair and let her pet me like a puppy. But I ignored the lurch in my stomach, let her use her hand to rub at her eyes and hide a yawn. Had I taken her hand back, would she have liked it? Would it have been overbearing, too possessive?

"Morning, angel."

Libby hummed—a squeaky pip of a sound—and flopped onto her back. Her hair moved with her, fanning across the pillow like a mane. This position drew her eyes back a little, made them a little wider. Every day, I find new things about her to love. And every day, I find new things I worry will be taken away.

"What's on the agenda today, handsome?" Her voice was always so soft. I'm no good at describing voices, using pretty words to compare them to shit—but Libby's voice sounded like cotton. Fluffy, soft, gentle.

I brought my hand to her face, pressing it against her cheek. I noticed that every time I do that, hold her face and caress it, she softened a little. Her eyes got this little twinkle, like she was seeing a kitten in a storefront.

"Same shit. Training, maybe a late lunch if Big doesn't ride my ass." I hated to admit it. I hated telling her that she was stuck with me all day again, though she swore she doesn't mind it.

But I always saw the way she crumbled a little.

"Oh, okay," she chirped, and a smile came to her face a moment later.

Before I could say anything else, she slipped from my arms. Freed of the crisp confines of the white hotel sheets, she padded toward the bathroom in nothing but her silky nightgown. It was the same one she used to wear back home—orange, covered in flowers, lace around the straps and along her breasts.

It reminded me of days spent rotting in my apartment: hovering behind her while she flipped pancakes on the stove, lounging on the sofa while she flittered and spun around the room listening to Donna Summer on my record player, watching each other's eyes in the afternoon light when we were just waking up. Now, the straps were wearing thin and the lace was starting to tear, but if I bought her a new one, it wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't remind me of home.

"Do you think," Libby mumbled around her toothbrush, words sudsing with white foam, "we'll have time to see the Pike Place Market?"

I knew the answer. I knew we wouldn't. But Libby spat toothpaste into the sink and rinsed her mouth with minty wash, and she pulled her hair away from her face to rub cream across her cheeks; she readied herself for a day she'd spend confined in a sweaty, musty gym, reading a book she'd read dozens of times before. She did so much for me. I felt like I didn't do enough for her.

"Yeah. Yeah, baby, we can try," I told her.

The radiant smile I received in response made the lie worth it.

♡ ♡

At least not everything was a lie.

We had time for lunch: a small bistro just down the street from the gym. Training was rough today—Big had been on my ass like fly on shit ever since the incident in Boston. I was training harder, longer, at a frequency that I knew upset Libby. By the afternoon, all the glowing brightness to her face had disappeared, and morphed into something bitter and drawn.

Ketchup splattered with every smack of her French fry in the glob on her plate, and I huffed as speckles appeared on my hand again.

“Libby.” It always came out of my mouth a little too harsh. I never meant to yell when I did.

Libby huffed, dropping the french fry into the ketchup. She reached for her Pepsi, sipping from the striped straw with glossy lips. I watched them close around the end of it and immediately missed the feel of them against me, though I’d just kissed her on the way here. When she set the glass down, I took her hand and brought it to my mouth. Her chin dropped to her other palm, elbow thunking on the table.

A sharp sigh left me before I could stop it, our intertwined hands resting beside the plates. “What’s wrong now?”

Libby’s eyes moved from the window to her picked-at plate. “Nothing.”

‘Nothing’ always meant ‘everything.’ Libby was a notorious pouter—something I usually adored about her. Until she pouted in retaliation for the fact that I couldn’t read her mind. I much preferred the pout that came from too little attention, or when she wanted something without asking for it—that pout was soft an old d doe-eyed, usually followed by a sweet kiss to the cheek. This pout was sour and came followed by huffing and eye rolling.

“Libby,” I sighed, crumpling my napkin in my fist and tossing it onto the table.

Her arms crossed, and the predictable eye roll followed suit. I scowled at the sight of it. Libby, usually sickeningly sweet, had an attitude on her that I dreaded the appearance of.

My fist landed on the table with a noisy bang, rattling the cutlery and causing Libby to flinch. A part of me shriveled when she did that. My chest tightened like a compressed air bag. An apology collected on the tip of my tongue. But would an apology make me look like weak? You lack conviction, Steven. No one’s going to take you seriously, pretty boy. You look like a little pussy. There was my father’s voice again, ringing in my head. I ran my hand through the front of my hair to mess it up. Pretty boy, pretty boy, pretty boy.

“Fuck,” shot from my mouth before I could swallow it, “just…I can’t read your damn mind, Libby.”

I didn't want her to be upset. I didn't want her to pout and roll her eyes and be sour all day—I wanted to see her smile and giggle and blush at the way I teased her. I wanted to have a nice day.

"It's nothing, Steve," she sighed, pulling away from the table to rest back against her side of the booth.

Libby looked off toward the window to her left, and an image of our first date suddenly flashed in my mind. The glimmering sheen of grease on every slice of pizza, the low jazz on the jukebox, the stench of beer on her pretty dress, the way her lips tasted under the streetlight on the way home—like Libby. There was no other way to describe it. She had a taste of her own—like fresh bakery and the sugary coating on a sour gummy worm, but also like artificial strawberry and Coca Cola. I never got tired of that taste in my mouth.

She was upset with me, but later, she wouldn’t be. She always got upset with me, but she always forgave me. At the end of the day, we loved each other. Wasn’t that enough?

I plucked her hand up again when it touched the table, bringing it to my mouth. My lips grazed her knuckles, thumb pressing into the ring on her middle finger that she wore every day. It was old and needed to be cleaned, but it reminded her of home. Like the silk nightgown she wore to bed, it was a piece of home she wasn’t ready to trade in for something new.

“Come on, let’s go to that…that market place.”

Libby’s head whipped from the window, eyes wide as they settled on me. I could see the bitter resolve melting like sugar in water—delight overwhelmed her face. “Really?”

Big and Mikey would frantically call the hotel in search of me, and when they’d find me later, I’d get another lecture about how important this fight was for my career, how I couldn’t ‘fuck around’ anymore. Have some responsibility, pretty boy. You gonna be somebody’s bitch your whole life? Fuckin' pussy. Pretty boy, pretty boy, pretty boy.

“Yeah, angel. Grab your stuff, come on.”

♡ ♡

The 'market' reeked of fish.

But Libby walked around, paper cup of gelato in hand, licking spoonfuls as she wandered from stands of fish to tables of beaded jewelry, eagerly soaking in the chaotic sounds and scents of the market. My sunglasses did little to combat the thumping in my temples, but I did my best to grit my teeth and endure the overwhelming stimulations. I knew when she found the corner of leather-bound books and handmade bookmarks that we'd be there a while.

When she began to protest the appearance of my wallet and the stack of cash headed the merchant's way, I pinched her lips between my fingers and kissed the tip of her nose. Her arms found their way around my stomach, cheek pressed to my back, and as the merchant wrapped her new books and journal in paper, she just held me. Even against all the nautical stenches and earth shattering noises that amplified the pain in my head, I could've stood there all day just to feel her arms around me. When Libby hugged me, she really hugged me. With all her strength, a pressure both comforting and soothing. She made sure I knew she was there.

"I need to get this fuckin' fish smell off me," I grumbled on the way into the hotel room, kicking the door shut behind us.

Libby flopped on the neatly-made, discarding her purse to the side before scrambling to unfold the paper around her books. She'd sit and admire them for hours if she could, cooing about the 'craftsmanship' of the leather and its 'embossment,' fawning over the color they chose to stain it with. She once spent forty-five minutes in an aisle of pens to find the perfect one, and came away with a regular old black ballpoint that she claimed 'had the perfect run.'

I never understood what Libby was talking about, but fuck did I love her.

"Okay. Wanna order some room serv—"

The phone on the nightstand shrilled, and Libby rolled onto her side to pluck it from the cradle. "Hello? Oh, hi, Mom!"

I inched toward the bathroom, hand still on the doorknob. Libby took her new journal in her hand and grinned, running her fingers over the spine. Her mouth moved like a motor, gushing over the hours spent in the market. I pushed the bathroom door open and glanced over just once more in time to see her nose scrunch with a giggle. She caught my eyes in the sliver of the door before it shut and grinned.

I thought about that smile the whole time in the shower. I ached at the image of it behind my eyes. I listened as closely as I could over the patter of the water to catch every giggle that I could.

Dripping across the tiles, I ruffled a towel through my hair and avoided looking into the mirror as I approached the sink. Libby's bag of makeup sat on its side atop the marble. I fingered through the tubes and compacts until I found a familiar tube of lotion. I plucked it out, sniffed the cap, and paused. Pretty boy, pretty boy, pretty boy. One day, Libby put too much in her palms, and swiped them over mine to share the creamy mixture. The scent lingered for hours, left my hands soft and smelling like Libby. Dad would've kicked my ass for something like that. I tossed the lotion back and yanked open the door.

"Steve! We have neighbors!"

Libby skittered toward the window, running along the length of the glass to draw the drapes shut. I shrugged, bending toward the luggage to rifle through my clothes. "Free show for them."

Libby shook her head, sliding back onto the bed, lounging on her stomach. Despite her temporary irritation with me, I could see her head tipping and her eyes wandering in the corner of my eye as I pulled a t-shirt over my head and sweatpants over my hips. I shuffled toward the bed, coming to a stop with my neglected hard-on placed in front of her.

"You gotta pay the toll though," I told her, cupping my hand under her chin to give it a squeeze.

Libby giggled, shoving my hand away. "You're so gross."

I pouted. "Thought you liked my dick in your mouth, baby."

She shot to her knees on the bed, jaw dropping. "Steve." A laugh rattled my name.

I curled a finger toward me, reaching for her arm when she didn't move fast enough. "C'mere, want a kiss."

Libby's smile smoothed. "Wait, I gotta tell you something. My mom called, she said..."

She captured her lip between her teeth and dropped her eyes toward my chest. Every alarm in my head started ringing. Did someone get hurt? Did they tell her to come home? Did they tell her to leave me?

"What?"

Libby pushed up on her knees, bringing her hands to my shoulders. They rubbed and squeezed, kneading and massaging in the way they only do when she's nervous to tell me something.

"She said she bumped into your mom at the store."

My eyes couldn't move from her face, pinched with worry. She rubbed harder, trailing her hands up the sides of my neck to cup my face.

"Steve?"

My mother. Blonde hair wound up, green eyes, silver watch, the stench of red wine, the sharp snap of a pill case. She stopped calling me Steve at nine years old. Steven came with a venom spit like pills pinging across the tile of the bathroom floor. Vomit in the toilet. My mother was much heavier than I thought she’d be. She begged me not to tell dad. Her green eyes wore a purple ring for a week when he found out.

“My mother,” I echoed.

Libby nodded. The image of her in front of me blurred, like she was standing behind frosted glass. “I just…thought you’d want to know. I know you don’t…talk to them, or about them. But I just—Steve?”

Libby smelled like all the good things in life. Her hands were soft and warm and so much smaller than mine, and I always wanted them on me. But right now, it was getting hard to breathe. Her hands were strangling me. My defenses were rattled. I was twelve years old covering my ears in my closet, screaming into a baseball jersey.

I shoved at Libby's hands, tearing them away from me. She sank down to her heels again, but the image of her in my periphery became a blob when I began to pace. The room no longer smelled like all things good and Libby—it smelled like that house. That god awful fucking house in Indiana. When I felt like dying, the world always smelled like that house.

"Steve? Hey, just...talk to me, baby, please." That cottony voice tickled my ears, but it couldn't penetrate the fog.

I paused in front of the mini bar. The little bottles of liquor enticed me. My mother's poison was wine and pills. My father's was whiskey. Sober or drunk, they were always the same.

"Steve?"

When I got a little tipsy, I started to hear their words coming out of my own mouth. Don't be such a fuckin' pussy. What are you good for? Pretty boy, pretty boy, pretty boy.

I couldn't be around Libby right now. I didn't want her to see me like this. I turned to make for the door, but she was on me—scurrying from the bed and tripping over her bare feet to place her hands on my chest.

"Hey, hey, baby, please. Y-you're scaring me, I...what can I do?"

I kept my eyes above her head, on the exit in sight. One look into those eyes and I'd sink to my knees, spill all my secrets. I couldn't look weak in front of her. Pretty boy. She'd never see me as anything but some whiney little puppy, something broken to be fixed. I didn't need anyone to fix me. I didn't need anyone to help me. Pretty boy. I was doing just fine on my own. I'm not weak. I'm not weak.

"Do you want to talk about i—"

"—no."

Libby's hands felt so heavy on my chest. "Steve," she sighed, but there was an edge to it, "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

I knew the moment I looked at her that whatever face I was making pierced her with hurt. Her eyes welled in the way they do only when I make her cry. I wish I didn't do that.

"I don't need your fuckin' help." I said it too mean. I always do.

My fists were buzzing with the telltale thrum of restlessness. They needed to feel impact, they needed to hit. I could only take so many before I started needing to make some myself. Getting hit didn't feel nearly as good as hitting back. In boxing, I got to do both.

"Why are you acting like this? Steve, just...talk to me, please. I'm begging you—"

Oh god. "Oh, God, Libby, what the fuck? Don't—don't do that!"

The room seemed to be shaking. The way it used to shake when Dad started hitting and I knew I could hit back, I envisioned all the ways I should hit back, but my arms were limp. The way it used to shake when I tried to clean Mom up once Dad's car left the driveway, but she screamed until I thought my ears would bleed.

"Do what? Steve, please, I'm just trying to help you—"

The image of her standing in the middle of the hotel room sliced through me, but the words were already shooting out of me. The edges of the room were already turning black. I couldn't stop the rattling in my chest.

"—well stop! I don't want your help—I don't need your help, Elizabeth."

For a while, all I heard were the huffs of my own breath. I'd never seen Libby so motionless, not even in her sleep. She twitched, her eyes roamed behind her eyelids, her feet kicked beneath the covers. Now, she did nothing but blink and breathe, and stare at me.

"I won't love half a man, Steve."

My chest moved with such force under each breath that I could see every rise and fall beneath my nose. Libby's nostrils flared. Her eyes welled with tears.

"That's what you are. Look at you, Steve—you're hiding. All this time, you've been hiding this other part of you. And I can't...I can't just...wait around forever until you figure it out on your own. You're not on your own. We're partners, Steve, you and me. But you never talk to me."

A sour taste arrived in my mouth. I hadn't thrown up since I got food poisoning in eighth grade. Right now, I was coming close. I didn't know what to say, or how to say it. How could I make this better? How could I fix it? Would she leave me now?

"You think about that," she insisted, pointing a polished finger my way.

The bathroom door slammed closed, the muffled rummage of drawers and cabinets opening following suit. The rumble of water filling the tub came after. I found the edge of the bed with slow steps, desperate for some sort of softness. The brightness of the room brought the pain back to my eyes. My own voice, screaming at an octave I now became embarrassed of, made my head feel swollen and tender. I flinched when the water sloshed on the other side of the door.

"Steve?"

The room was so quiet. I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep. Not until I felt something soft beneath my cheek, and something small rocking my shoulder. The brightness had dimmed to a purplish light, beaconing over my feet at the end of the bed. Libby smelled freshly cleaned, like hotel soap and her face cream. Her lips left a minty imprint on my cheek.

"You okay? I can get your medicine if your head hurts—"

The pain had simmered to a dull ache. All I wanted was her in my arms. I found her in the darkness, wrapping my hand around her arm and giving it a pull until she flopped onto the other side of me. I yanked her against me like she'd been gone for years. It was selfish, I know. But all I needed was her. I hoped she understood that I was sorry.

"Just want you."

Libby pressed her nose to my throat. It felt like an icicle. "Okay."

I never understood how she could forgive me that easy. I'm still trying to forgive myself for half the shit I did to her.

"I don't like talking about them. They're...they're shit excuses for parents."

Libby rubbed her nose against my throat. I let my eyes sink closed, chin resting atop her head. "It's just me, Stevie. And no matter what you tell me, it's never gonna change how I feel about you. Alright?"

I'd never believe that. "Okay. And I'll...I'll tell you all about it, just..."

"At your own pace."

I nodded, pressing my hand to her back to bring her closer. I wasn't sure she could get any closer. "Yeah, at my own pace."

Libby latched her mouth onto my throat. A grunt stirred my cock in my pants. Her hands slid along my sides, still sporting bruises from the last match, and I fell to my back. Her weight pressed down on me, knees bookended on either side of my torso. Her hair tickled my cheeks as her mouth dampened my neck. Her ass fit perfectly in my palms, enough to squeeze and slap. She jerked against me when my hand came down in even the gentlest pat.

"Let me take care of you," tickled my throat.

I nodded, cock aching and straining against the thin cloth of my sweatpants. She knew just where to fix me—where to wrap her hand and squeeze.

"I'm sorry, angel," I gasped, stuttering around the firm glide of her hand up my shaft.

Libby kissed across my jaw. "I know. Just let me take care of you, Steve."

I could do that. I could be taken care of. In her hands, I was safe.

♡ ♡