Mar 2
mike: *sigh* clocking in for the day!
the narrative:
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Australia
seen from Australia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Colombia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Peru
seen from Bangladesh
mike: *sigh* clocking in for the day!
the narrative:
assorted krerdly doodles from a while back
LISA IS SO FUCKING FUNNY PLEASE
Louis dressing Lestat:
Armand dressing Lestat:
Lestat dressing himself:
A while ago I was talking to my therapist and I told her I was worried that I was creepy and invasive with relationships. She asked me what I meant.
I told her, "Well, when I'm interested in someone, I try and find out what they like, and if it's something I don't like, then I do a bunch of research and write notes and stuff and explore the topic until I find something I *do* like. And I'm worried that that's weird or stalker-y. But like... I've found a bunch of stuff I still enjoy after the interest in them has faded. So is that okay, or is it creepy?"
And she stared at me for a minute before saying, "That sounds very sweet of you, actually"
And so yeah
Self-perception and shit
TOM HANK$ PISSIN in Muncie, IN
now that's some shifty thrifty
Is it too late to say sorry now?
jay!bf × sensitive!reader genre: angst, comfort, apology, fluff warnings: arguing, crying, anxiety
The argument wasn't even about anything huge.
At least, that's what Jay thought.
"You always take things so personally!" he snapped, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
You flinched.
It wasn't the words alone. It was the tone.
Jay saw your expression fall, but he was too angry to stop himself.
"And I'm so fucking tired of walking on eggshells every time we argue."
The second those words left his mouth, regret hit him.
But his pride got there first.
"Whatever," he muttered, grabbing his jacket. "I need air."
The front door slammed.
And suddenly—
The house was silent.
You stood there for a few seconds, staring at the door.
Your chest hurt.
Jay didn't mean it.
...Right?
But your brain wasn't listening.
"Tired of walking on eggshells."
"You take things personally."
"I need air."
You slowly sank to the floor, hugging your knees tightly.
Maybe you really were too much.
Maybe Jay was finally getting sick of you crying easily, overthinking everything, needing reassurance all the time.
Your eyes burned.
You rubbed them harshly.
"No," you whispered to yourself. "Stop crying. Stop it."
But the tears came harder.
You moved to the corner of the living room, curling up against the wall where it felt smaller, safer somehow.
An anxious habit returned—you nervously bit at your fingernail, barely noticing it as your thoughts spiraled.
What if he didn't come back?
What if he regretted dating you?
What if—
The sound of keys jingling made your heart stop.
Jay froze.
The lights were dim.
And there you were.
Curled up in the corner, eyes red and puffy, shoulders shaking.
His stomach dropped.
"Baby..."
You quickly looked away.
Jay's chest physically hurt.
Because this—
This was his fault.
He crouched down slowly in front of you.
"Hey," he said softly.
You didn't answer.
"Can you look at me?"
A tiny shake of your head.
Jay closed his eyes for a second.
He hated himself.
"I'm sorry."
Nothing.
"I'm so fucking sorry."
Your lip trembled.
"You meant it," you whispered.
Jay's eyes widened immediately.
"No."
"You said you're tired of me."
"I'm not."
"You said—"
"I said something awful because I was angry," he interrupted gently. "And I regret it more than anything."
You finally looked at him.
And Jay nearly cried himself.
Your face was all tear-stained, eyes swollen, looking at him like you expected him to leave again.
He slowly sat beside you on the floor.
"I am not tired of you."
His voice was firm.
"You're sensitive, yeah."
A fresh tear rolled down your cheek.
Jay quickly shook his head.
"No, listen to me."
He carefully took your hand.
"Being sensitive doesn't make you difficult."
"Right."
"No."
He squeezed your fingers.
"It means you feel things deeply."
You sniffled.
"But I cry over everything."
"So what?" Jay said softly. "Then I'll hand you tissues every damn time."
A tiny laugh escaped you.
Success.
Jay smiled sadly.
"I should've never left like that."
You looked down.
"I thought you wouldn't come back."
Jay immediately wrapped his arms around you.
You stiffened for a second before melting into him.
"Never."
He pressed his cheek against your hair.
"You hear me?"
You nodded weakly.
"I was angry," he admitted. "But I never stop loving you when I'm angry."
That sentence shattered whatever walls you had left.
You buried your face into his hoodie and cried.
And Jay just held you.
No complaints.
No impatience.
Just rubbing circles on your back while whispering,
"I'm here."
"I'm sorry."
"I've got you."
Over and over.
Until your breathing steadied.
Until your hands stopped trembling.
Until you finally believed him.
And later that night, when you apologized for "being too emotional," Jay frowned and gently flicked your forehead.
"Don't say that shit."
You blinked.
He pulled you closer.
"You feel a lot."
He kissed the top of your head.
"And I'm gonna love all of it."
A/N: i was actually crying while writing this lmaoo.. You can message me anytime if you feel like being sensitive sucks or have anything to vent, im always here <3
“The girl who ‘made the lesbian flag’ turns out to be lying about being homeless and is actually rich and her father works in Dubai where she often visited him” is one of the funniest most tumblr things to ever happen. Good to know we can have good old fashioned leftist grifting.