#//I do not fear for H@rms given what I know | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

awingedinsect · 10 months ago

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-Flood me like Atlantic-

Chapter 7

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Strong allusions to/descriptions of to Self h@rm. bl00d, swearing, general 18+ content but nothing way too explicit this chapter. Some slightly fluffy vibes as a break from all the shit because my boy has been through it.

“Have you forgotten, my Vessel?”

“No.”

“Does it tempt you? The light?”

“Not as such. The light hurts my eyes, and there is no music in it. I cannot be somewhere where music is not.”

“You do well. Stay in the dark, my pretty voice. And wait for my words.”

“Yes…”

It’s not a dream. But at the same time, he’s not awake. He’s locked in the space between his mind and his eyelids; a dark place where he can’t move or think beyond the words coming out of his mouth, words that don’t even feel like his own. And yet here there’s a strange sort of peace here; a foreign, fearless, silence of his thoughts. He knows his purpose when he’s here.

“Yes…” his lips form the word over and over. He’s glad he’s finally found the point of having his mouth; to create the word and know that in this void, he is approved of because of it.

Suddenly there’s eyes in the dark. They’re blue as glaciers and round as planets and for a second he feels his Eden being invaded. Then the vision suddenly vanishes, and in its place is sunlight.

And a headache.

A splitting, horrible headache.

He blinks a few times to get the world into focus, and suddenly realizes that someone is standing directly over him. He barely has a second to process the enormous blue eyes blinking down at him before the person turns their head and yells out of the room, “guys! He’s wakin’ up, guys!”

It’s the drunk drummer he met at the bar.

Vessel tenses, fingers clawing the blanket now half on the floor and pulling it up over his bandaged chest. He’s still blinking, trying to figure out if last night's events were real and, if so, where the hell he is, when a second person comes into the room. He looks more put together than anyone he’s seen so far, leaning against the doorframe with a calmly curious look on his face. He eyes Vessel slowly, smiling politely when their eyes meet.

“Goodmorning.” He says.

Vessel is starting to feel enormous sympathy for every bug he’s ever uncovered and examined when flipping over garden stones.

There’s dusty sunlight pouring in through the window frames, bathing both him and the tiny living room/music room/three men live here and it shows room. And the big blue eyes of the drummer are still on him, hovering about two feet away and waiting patiently for him to do something.

“Hello.” Is what he manages.

“Damn, you’re a bit busted huh mate?” The drummer says, eyes sympathetic now as he swipes his unruly hair. “Not great.”

“No, not great.” Vessel has to agree. He still hasn’t moved. “Um, II, right?”

The drummer smiles. “Nice memory! Good on you, man. IV, come introduce yourself.”

the guitarist shrugs off of the doorframe, wandering over casually and nodding down at the man on the couch.

“IV.” He says.

Vessel nods awkwardly, trying not to stare at the very noticeable sling around his shoulder. But the guitarist obviously notices his inner turmoil, because he instantly waves him off. “aye, I’ve got a break from practice for a few weeks, I’m grateful. If III tries to blame you though tell him he’s crazy, it was my clumsy ass.”

Before Vessel can reply, another voice fills the room.

“Don’t try and make him feel better.”

All eyes suddenly turn to the doorway, where a now familiar figure is standing, messy hair pulled back in a knot and an enormous steaming mug in his hand. His robe hangs loose off his angular frame.

He just hovers there, eyeing the space between II and Vessel like at any moment the caffeine might kick in and he’ll jump for it; ready to tear the half-living singer a new one if given any reason. Vessel takes the warning and doesn’t so much as breathe too deeply.

Meanwhile, II sits down beside him without a fear in the world.

“Sorry you had to put up with III as a nurse.” He laughs, folding his hands in his lap. “One time I tripped on the step and sprained my damn ankle, and he had to carry me bridal-style back inside. Grumbled the whole way, then just fucking dumped me here too.” He gestures at the sofa and the man currently trying to shrink himself on it, a laugh still on his lips. He glanced back at III. “didn’t even make me soup.”

“I can’t fucking make soup.” The bassist says, gripping his mug with ring-decorated fingers- a few of the stones Vessel recognizes, some of the fatter rocks and symbols he doesn’t- and taking a long swig. “And if you didn’t get soup, there’s no way he is. We’ll probably have the cops beating down the door any fucking second looking for his busted ass.” He glares at Vessel, making eye contact sharp enough to cut new stripes into his skin. “Time to head out, bruv.”

A sudden flush of embarrassment climbs up Vessel’s chest, turning his bloodless cheeks pink as he blinks back. He feels practically naked right now; wearing his emotions on his face and a pair of baggy black sweatpants low on his hips. And the increasing certainly that he’s incapable of walking doesn’t exactly make him feel safe right now, either. Who are these people? Why are they held up in a cabin in the woods, and how much goddam witchcraft have they been doing up here? For all he knows, they could be in league with Venus. Is the voice in his head something they conjured up?

Silence!

The command rips through his brains like a bullet. He winces, scrunching his eyes as a gasp leaves his mouth. A gentle hand grabs his shoulder.

“Hey, you alright mate?” II asks, eyes searching his miserable face.

“He’s not going anywhere.” IV says, blinking down at the sight. He turns back to III, who himself even looks a little concerned at the way Vessel is shaking.

“He’s got no strength in him, man. I’m gonna make some fuckin breakfast, then we can talk.”

The guitarist walks past his friend in the doorway, sliding into what must be the kitchen.

“Fine.” III says, passing his mug between his two hands and tapping painted nails on the porcelain. “But if the cops show, one of you two is answering the fuckin door.”

And just like that he leaves, turning back down the hallway and closing himself up in the same bedroom he’d got the sweatpants from.

“Don’t worry about it, man.” II says, trying to look understanding as the trembles in Vessel’s shoulders settle and he gathers his breath, blinking his eyes back open to the world. “Whatever happened to you, you can tell us or not. ‘Matters is, you’re fine now, eh? IVy’s gonna cook something up, then you can just hang around long as you need. Make some music.”

The idea of singing feels like it hasn’t crossed his mind in millennia, much less doing it for them. But there’s a strange comfort in the way the drummer looks at him with those big, soft blue eyes.

He manages a grin, and nods.

Meanwhile pots are starting to clang in the next room, the smell of eggs wafting into the dusty parlor like a sign from god.

• • •

He remembers the feel of the carpet beneath his feet. The way his shoulder collapsed against the wall, rattling the picture frames smiling down at him.

“…m,mom?”

He remembers clutching his wrist, seeing double as something seeped dark and thick from between his fingers. He didn’t mean for there to be that much.

“M…mom!”

Her silhouette filled the end of the hallway, casting a shadow down to him. Her face went white as a ghost.

“What’s wrong?” She demanded, hurrying to him. She wrenched his arm off of his chest, a horrified gasp leaving her lips.

“Jesus Christ, how did that happen? Did you do this on purpose?!”

“It was an accident.”

“You’re fucking thirteen. You know not to play with knives, fucking hell…”

“I’m sorry.” He sobbed. His heart was gonna beat out of his chest. He was dying.

Her hands felt cold on him, prying at his fingers around the warm blood to get a better look.

“Get into the bathroom right now.” She ordered. She sounded like she might cry too, but not now- she always did her crying later.

“And stop crying.” She said, ushering him down the hallway. “You’re gonna wake up your sister.”

“I’ll do it.” II says, reaching an arm across Vessel. IV takes the salt shaker from his friend's hand and nods his thanks.

Vessel shakes from the daydream, shoving his arms underneath the table. The sleeves of II’s hoodie barely go past his wrists.

“Huh?”

“That bandage coming loose on your head?” III asks, picking at his steaming pile of eggs and toast. “IV was talking to ya.”

“Sorry.” He says, reaching for his own fork. The sleeve slides up his arm again and he tugs it back down with an age-old instinct, trying to politely search for a bite.

“What was that?”

“Just asking for the salt.” IV says, trying to smile at him. Though the thing comes out looking pretty full of pity. “Hey, how’re you feeling now, mate?”

Truthfully, he feels like he might throw up any minute. But at least the imminent threat of passing out seems gone.

“I could use a cup of tea.”

III’s face seems fixed in a permanent look of distaste, but he doesn’t say anything as II jumps up from the little round table and heads to the counter, filling the kettle from the tap. “Oh, fucking me too!” he says, bringing that same endearing enthusiasm into every word he says. Vessel’s heart flutters a bit at the man’s eagerness; when was the last time someone made him tea?

“Pick your poison, Vess.” He says, turning on the stove and reaching for a little decorated box beside the sink. “We’ve got Earl Grey, English Breakfast… and this funky Jasmine Rose one III got. Tastes a bit ass, honestly. Not good with milk and sugar.”

III shoves a forkful of eggs into his face and rolls his eyes. “Anyone who needs milk and sugar to enjoy tea doesn’t get a damn opinion.” He’s very blatantly avoiding Vessel’s face now, just glances at IV as II chuckles and pulls out two bags of English breakfast. “IV, you like it don’t you?”

The guitarist just smirks, taking a slow sip of his creamy coffee. His eyelashes flick down to Vessel, who’s currently fumbling with only his third bite of food. “No comment.”

“What?! I thought you liked it, I fully got another fucking box in my bag, man! You were slurping it down the other morning during practice.”

IV shrugs, seemingly content when a fourth bite passes Vessel’s lips. “Felt good on my throat… Still tastes shit.”

“You sing?” Vessel suddenly asks, surprised to hear his own voice. He sits up straighter, casting his eyes to the man beside him.

Suddenly II starts laughing behind III, clinking a lid down on a pretty brown teapot. “not like you, he doesn’t.” He says, eyes twinkling in the steam. “He screams. I swear to god, if we had neighbors they’d be scared shitless. At least the squirrels don’t seem to mind.” He pulls two mugs from the cupboard and sets them down. “I think they’ve made him their banshee leader.”

IV’s laugh is deep and soft, filling the little kitchen with even more warmth than the sunlight streaming in. “I can sing normal, too.” He swipes his hair out of his eyes, taking another sip of his drink. “ jus’ not as fun.”

“Aye, not so loud.” III says. And now his eyes dart to Vessel’s, gluing him down. “We’ve got a soft tenor in the room.”

Vessel’s eyes go a shade darker. He doesn’t peel them off of the bassist across from him.

“I can scream.” He says.

IV seems intrigued, though both he and II seemed fixed on the tension between the singer and bassist. “Oh? You like to fry?”

Vessel swallows. “Sometimes.” He says, breaking eye contact only long enough to take the mug II offers him. He mumbles a thank you.

“But I like it deeper, goes better with my songs.”

“You’ve gotta sing for us at some point, mate.” IV says. “That performance you gave at the bar was something else, but if you’re serious about it, you can’t hold out on us. We could harmonize.”

“Maybe.” Vessel’s eyes go a little wide as II tips a jug of milk into his tea, stirring a mound of white sugar into the mix like a true Englishman.

“Maybe later.” The tea scalds down his throat, but the taste is a comfort all the same. His tongue darts out across his lips and he rolls them awkwardly, uncertain how much longer he can take the eyes of the bassist on him. He forces a chuckle. “Not sure if III would uh, like that.”

“You kidding?” II says, smiling contentedly after a long sip of his nearly completely white tea. “III loved your singing, said it was the best voice he’d ever heard! Your pitch could go so well in a heavier mix, and he was about ready to play a riff for you right then and there when I found him before our show.” He doesn’t seem to notice how red III’s face is turning, instead smiling over at IV, who seems more than amused. “If shit hadn’t gone down on our set, I think III woulda hauled you up on the stage with him in a heartbeat.”

Vessel is speechless. There’s no way III actually liked his voice. Although, there was the healthy gap between his performance and the black eye he received for the man to have had second thoughts on the scrawny kid and his fucked up keyboard. Vessel’s wide eyes go straight to his lap, any and all words escaping him as III turns progressively redder across from him.

“Isn’t that right, III?” The drummer asks, now potentially aware of the effect his words have. He’s grinning too big. “Didn’t you say you wanted to hear him sing with some bass?”

“Bass can level up any performance.” III says, planting his elbows on the table. His hair falls into his face as he looks down to pick at his chipped nail polish. “But it’d be better with an actually good scream.”

“Don’t worry.” Vessel says, something brave stirring in his chest now that he’s got a sudden vantage on the man who’s been pushing him around like a trolly ever since they’ve met.

“I can scream loud enough, for you.”

The imminent silence is interrupted as II chokes violently on his tea.

#vessel #vessel sleep token #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token iii #art

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anamericangirl · 1 year ago

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Hey there, I have a question.

First off, I used to self h«rm a lot and attempted suic!de multiple times. When I finally decided to talk to the social worker at my very Christian school, the first and only thing she told me was that what I did was a sin, and that I had no right to do it, since my body only belongs to God. Don’t get me wrong, I’m Christian too, but what she told me really damaged my faith. When I told her that I am bisexual (that wasn’t the main topic, it just came up), she told me that for that, I deserve to be kille?, and that it would’ve been better if my attempts had succeeded.

I tried dot educate myself on the topic of suic¿de in the Bible, but I couldn’t really keep doing that since it only triggered me and I couldn’t keep doing it. But I feel like you really know about the Bible, and so I wanted to ask what you know about that topic.

If you don’t want to answer this, that’s completely fine, I can understand it‘s a sensible topic.

Have a beautiful day, you deserve the best.

Wow, I'm so sorry you've had such serious struggles and the social worker would tell you such things. Some people really shouldn't be put in positions where they are supposed to be a trusted source of advice and counsel and she sounds like one of those people. Those are incredibly damaging things to say to someone who was in the very vulnerable state you were in. I'm glad you were able to keep your faith in God and made attempts to study the issue yourself even though you had an experience that understandably made both those things more difficult. Like if she actually told you it would have been better if your suicide attempts were successful that's very suicide baity and I hope she's not still in that position.

I'm very honored you feel like I know the Bible pretty well. I have been studying it more in depth this past year or two so I definitely know more than I used to but there's still a lot for me to learn!

The Bible doesn't explicitly address suicide and say not to do it, but we can get a very solid understanding of what God thinks about it by reading and studying his word. We know that God is the creator and he has given us the gift of life. And he makes it clear in the Bible that all life is unique and precious to him and he does not want us to take it upon ourselves to end our own lives.

There six or seven people mentioned in the Bible who committed suicide and several more who had suicidal thoughts but overcame them by putting their hope in God. Elijah, Solomon, Jonah, Job, even Paul all hit the point where they wanted to give up on life and some even asking God to end them, but instead of going through with these desires, they ended up putting their trust and faith in God and he pulled them through, which is what he wants us to do whenever we have to the point where we are in so much despair the only things we can think of to distract ourselves or end our troubles is self harm and suicide. In Acts 16 Paul even explicitly stops a prison guard who was about to kill himself after thinking a bunch of prisoners had escaped and tells him not to kill himself.

There are many verses in the Bible about coming to God when we feel at our lowest.

"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." - Isaiah 41:10

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11

"Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken." - Psalms 55:22

"Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death." - Romans 8:1-2

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." - Romans 8:38-39

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. The righteous person may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all." - Psalms 34:18-19

Those are by no means all the verses, but it is a small sampling that shows that God wants us to come to him with our despair, sorrow and grief so he can give us healing and hope again.

Speaking theologically, suicide would be a considered a sin. It goes against God's commandments and disrespects the gift of life he has given and disrespects the fact that God is the giver and taker of life. Life is not ours to take. Not from another person and not from ourselves. God created us special. In 1 Corinthians it says “Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.” This pertains to far more than suicide, but suicide is definitely a way to disrespect our own body.

God does tell us not to commit murder and suicide is technically self-murder. So while suicide is a sin, it's not unforgivable and it's not something you deserve for anything else you do or are struggling with and it's completely unbiblical for anyone to say you should be killed or your suicide attempts should have been successful.

I am very glad you made attempts to study for yourself instead of just accepting what that woman told you and I hope you have found healing and I hope I was able to provide a somewhat satisfactory answer for you.

Thank you for your kind words. I hope you are doing better and have a wonderful day! God bless!

#anon #answered

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traumadumpwriter · 1 year ago

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Heavy trigger warning! This story includes heavy themes of ab*se, r*pe, self h*rm, mental illness and violence.

Check out every part by going on the tag Freedom on my page cx

Freedom: A John Shelby mini fic

Chapter Two: 3303 words

A few days later and Alice was discharged; most of her injuries being minor and easily healed by a little care and nutrition. Once Alice was finally left alone, she crumbled onto the wooden floor and cried harder than she ever had before. Ada hadn't wanted to leave her alone, extremely worried for her welfare. She'd overheard the nurses discussing the injuries, how many there were and what seemingly caused them. Alice had yet to offer any kind of explanation, meaning her and Polly could only make assumptions.

Polly had moved around the furniture in what was apparently a filing office, making a temporary sleeping space; a sofa, some blankets and a cabinet for a nightstand. Despite the room being small and bland, Alice was grateful to have it, shuddering at the thought of being inside that cramped caravan again. She was grateful to be alive too and that Polly had saved some of her Mother's mementos for her, treating the girl with nothing but kindness from the moment they reunited.

However, she also remembered Polly being there when the men took her away and knew that she'd given her mother the idea. That was something that she could not forgive the woman for.

An intense mix of emotions overtook her mind and body; fear, rage, freedom, grief, relief, restlessness, sickness, despair. She darted over to the cabinet and rummaged through the drawers for something sharp, desperate for any feeling of control. Quickly, she found a letter opener and immediately brought it to her thigh, slashing at the already scarred skin.

Even after all the years of physical pain at the hands of others - something she obviously didn't enjoy - pain from her own hands still gave her a sense of comfort.

She hadn't been able to truly hurt herself in a long time, that was reserved only for her husband and whoever he saw fit. He even took extra measures to make sure she couldn't purposely harm herself, practically baby proofing the caravan. It took away the last sense of control she had.

Now though, looking down at her bloody thighs, she felt a huge head rush, her body filling with relief and relaxing slightly. She didn't realise how much she was shaking until she looked down at her hands, dropping the letter opener as she focused on the blood.

A couple moments passed before she grabbed her already stained dress and started to wipe up the blood. Ada had left a pile of her clothes in the corner, another thing Alice was immensely grateful for. As she got changed, she thought about how much she'd actually missed Ada.. and how lucky she was that her defiant brothers happened to be the ones in the automobile that night.

It took her a while to get to sleep, her body nauseous and her brain overloaded, but when she did finally get to sleep she found herself having a dream - something that hadn't happened in a long time - and the starring role was taken by none other than John Shelby.

Meanwhile, he too had been dealing with unwanted emotions, finding his mind drifting on an hourly basis. As soon as he got the chance, he interrogated Ada for the details from the hospital, his gut clenching as each injury sounded worse than the last.

But still, he struggled to picture the Alice that he knew growing up taking a beating from anyone - let alone to that degree.

"And you're sure that a man done all this stuff to her?" He asked, struggling to hide his anger.

"I mean she didn't say. I don't know for sure but it certainly looks like it." Ada answered, her tone also bitter. She saw the rage bubbling behind his eyes and quickly added "But don't do anything brash, please. She really doesn't need that right now."

John knew his sister was right, shooting her a small nod before heading to his room. As he passed the door of the filing office, he fought the urge to push the door open and ask the girl inside a million questions. Instead he carried on going down the hall and keeping the questions inside his head.

——————

The next morning, John was surprised to see Alice and Ada sat up at the kitchen table eating breakfast and happily chatting. The smile on her face was authentic, her eyes and cheeks glowing despite the bruises.

"You're looking better." He awkwardly chuckled in her direction, wandering through the kitchen.

Instantly upon hearing his voice, Alice thought about the dream she'd had and suddenly felt much more interest in John than she ever had before. When they were kids, she never saw him as anything other than a friend, but now seeing him as the handsome man he'd become, something changed.

"Thanks." She awkwardly chuckled back, locking eyes for just a moment before returning to her food. Her stomach was growling quite ferociously, not having had free reign over how much she ate for a long time. Every piece of bacon felt like heaven.

"Any reason why you're awake so early?" Ada looked up from her newspaper and sent John a playful glare.

He shot her a quick glare back before coughing and sitting down opposite the girls. Alice's eyes flicked back to him, partially cautious but more curious than anything.

"Fueling myself before a hard days work. Something you women wouldn't know about." He smirked, earning a scoff from his sister whilst Alice stayed silent.

"Alice Shepherd quiet before a sexist remark? She really has changed." He thought to himself, piling food onto his plate.

In truth, he didn't know why he was down there so early. The night had been relatively sleepless, his mind ravaged by war memories and now questions about Alice, so when he heard their voices downstairs it just felt right to join them.

And now, he could feel Alice's eyes on him and for the first time since their reunion he felt intimidated by her. Somehow her silence felt more judgmental than any comment or insult she'd ever made, her powerful aura clearly remaining intact. He couldn't let himself go weak and lose her again, he had to at least try this time.

So despite the nerves building up in his gut, he gazed back at the brunette with a smile, ready to ask her if she was free that evening. I But just as he opened his mouth, Tommy strolled into the room and he felt all the words leave him.

—————

They didn't speak much again for the next couple of days, John being very busy and Alice generally being with Ada or cooped up in recovery by herself when her friend was busy.

She'd struggled slightly to adjust to everything; her freedom, the slight opium withdrawal, the way things were now so different from the war, her mother and brothers passing, the trauma from her abuse. Every night, she'd cut her thighs, cry her heart out and then sleep like a log, completely exhausted despite not really doing much with her day.

The sleep felt really good too, not having to be alert and ready to wake up at any moment was something she'd dearly missed.

So as she sat down in front of the filing cabinet and reached in to find the letter opener that night, she was shocked to see that it wasn't there.

Suddenly, she felt frantic, searching around the room for it or anything else that could suffice but nothing appeared.

"Someone must have taken it." She thought to herself, quickly becoming more agitated by the second. She'd finally gotten back her favourite form of control and she needed it instantaneously.

The house had been empty for the last couple hours besides John and a light bulb instantly went off in her head.

"He must've used it and forgot to put it back. I'll just go get it from him now, it's not that late." She thought manically.

Wide eyed, she paced down the hallway and knocked on his door, hearing a cough and a sigh from inside before John's voice murmured "Come in." Once she did, their eyes immediately locked and it made her stomach flip, suddenly feeling the ridiculousness of her question.

"You alright?" He asked, staring at her intensely.

"Y-yeah... I was just gonna ask do you have a letter opener?" She stammered awkwardly, her eyes darting between his and the floor.

A small tut came from his lips and he looked to the ground for a second before pulling something out of his pocket. When he opened his palm, Alice saw the letter opener from the filing cabinet and instantly reached out to grab it, but he quickly closed his fist and scoffed.

"Why do you want it, Alice?" He pursed his lips as he spoke bluntly "And don't lie to me, I'm not gonna fall for it, I ain't a kid no more."

It's not like her self harm was ever much of a secret, but now that they were adults and their bond had faded, she felt ashamed and embarrassed.

"Why do you care, John?"

He on the other hand, felt guilty and upset and even slightly angry, standing up from his position on the bed and running his fingers through his hair.

"Why wouldn't I?" He turned to her with a sigh, stepping closer. "I've known you my whole life... and I've never understood you."

"No one understands and I don't expect them to ." Alice replied bluntly, becoming defensive as his words made her feel vulnerable. "Can I just have it please?"

John scoffed, feeling dumbfounded from just being in her presence, which made him annoyed.

"Are you fucking serious? Why are you cutting yourself up? It doesn't make any sense. You reappear out of nowhere with the shit kicked out of you and then you choose to add extra pain to yourself? Why would you do that?" His voice stayed low as he was relatively calm, but his frustration was clear through his tone.

Alice was shocked by how much the man actually seemed to care, not really knowing how to respond to him. Her mind flipped between listening to his words to how good he looked speaking them, causing a small smile to creep onto her lips.

"Now why are you smiling? Are you even more fucking nuts now? I'm being serious Alice." John's face was only straight for a minute before a smile started to form on his too, easily weakened by Alice's big, glossy eyes and delicate lips.

"I just think you're a good man, maybe that does make me nuts." She said quietly, creating a moment of silence afterwards as John soaked in the compliment.

"Anyway, I should probably leave you to it." She added, her mind darting to the knives in the kitchen.

Maybe it was the whiskey; John quickly put his hand on her shoulder before she could turn around and leave.

"Stay." He felt embarrassed but nonetheless made his request. "Let's catch up properly."

In his eyes, Alice saw a flicker of vulnerability that made her even more intrigued by the handsome man. The Shelby brothers never showed weakness. She'd realised just how powerful they'd become when walking around with Ada and imagined that it was rare for John to request the company of anyone, let alone so meekly.

"Okay." She smiled, stepping slowly towards him. Her mind wasn't even focused on the sharp objects anymore, instead focusing on the man in front of her and how he made her stomach feel twisted up in the good way she hadn't experienced in years. "So tell me, what have you been up to?"

It was clear that he was relieved by her answer, sitting down on the bed and patting the spot next to him with a relaxed grin. He reached over to his side, grabbing a box of cigarettes and a bottle of whiskey as Alice sat beside him, leaning against the wall and crossing her legs.

"Where do I even start?" He huffed, taking a swig from the bottle before handing it to Alice. "Well Tommy runs the family now as I'm sure you've heard. I'm in the shop most days but every now and then he sends me or Arthur on these missions."

"Were you on a mission the night I stopped you?"Alice teased before taking a swig from the whiskey.

"Coming back from one actually. And I wasn't even meant to be on it, some prick fucked up last minute. Funny how life works out sometimes."

"What do you do on these missions Tommy gives you?"

"That is peaky blinder business and peaky blinder business only darling. Next question." He chuckled slightly, earning a giggle from her.

"Okay let me think..." She grinned. "Did anything interesting happen before you got into the business? Like what was going on in Small Heath just after I left? Did anyone ever end up scrapping Big Lee? That's the last bit of drama I remember!"

John scoffed and chuckled in amusement before thinking of his answer.

"Well it was just after you left that the war began weren't it, so I couldn't tell you what was happening in Small Heath then... lots of babies been born and lots of people have died. Big Lee's fucking dead, done in the Somme. I was a machine gunner in the Warwickshire Yeomanry, a bloody good one too, although I'm not sure what that says about me... Didn't get me anywhere anyway, still came home to this shit hole with nothing to show for all those years away."

As Alice watched him speak about the war, she could see him getting more withdrawn; his eyes looking distant and his body tensing up. She'd taken a few swigs from the bottle before she stopped his spiralling.

"I suppose I feel a similar kind of way." She interrupted, prompting him to shoot her a confused look.

"What? About killing hundreds of men?"

"No. Not about that. About spending years away, just to come back to this shit hole with nothing to show for it... It just feels like painfully wasted time."

A moment of silence passed between them, John lighting a cigarette and Alice taking another swig, savouring the relaxed feeling it gave her.

"Well, what did you spend all those years away doing? Maybe it wasn't a waste of time." He knew he was playing dumb slightly here, thinking of the injuries she'd arrived to them with and her general change of attitude. To him it was clear that she'd been through some kind of abuse, but he wanted to hear her admit it. Then maybe he could do something about it.

The brown haired girl sighed, looking down at her legs as she thought about the marks hidden by her clothing. The ones left by Jones made her feel unwell and tainted, but the ones left by herself made her feel a sick sense of comfort. She was sure that to the outside world they all looked the same.

Now her mind was focused on Jones though, what he did to her and how unwell it made her. Even now that she'd escaped him, she could feel his poison in her bloodstream, seemingly strengthened by her refusing to ever talk about him.

"Maybe talking will help." The girl thought.

A heavy sigh left her lips before she spoke.

"Well I didn't spend much time with my father, which I suppose was the original plan. He sold me to be married only a few weeks into my stay with him. Obviously his plan had been different all along and my mother stupidly fell for it. I sometimes wonder how much he was paid for me. It probably wasn't even that much; that stupid old bastard."

John took swigs of whiskey between the puffs on his cigarette but remained listening intently. His face straight and emotionless despite the fact that he was clinging onto every word, deeply curious for her truth. Alice's face also remained straight, dissociating while she recalled the traumatic events.

"And my husband.. he's the devil. Never met a man like him, if you can even call him that. There was never a break from it. I'd rather die than ever be in his hands again... he did such evil things to me, things I'm scared to say out loud." Her voice started to shake slightly and she pulled the bottle from John's hand, taking a big swig.

"Why are you scared to say it? No one can hurt you now, you're protected by us."

His words brought a small smile to her lips and she turned to him to make eye contact, instantly feeling her stomach flip as she did.

"Because... it would make you view me differently." She stammered, struggling to keep her cool composure. There was a lot more to it than that, a lot more deep, ugly feelings, but those words were all she could bare to admit.

"What? You think I'd judge you because your husband beat you up? I wouldn't judge no woman for that, that's on that bastard, not you!" He answered back with a level of enthusiasm that surprised her.

It became clear he really did care, but even that didn't give her the strength to say what had truly happened, in all it's gruesome detail.

"He didn't just beat me up. It was so much more than that." She stammered, shrinking under John's gaze. "It.. it was a lot more than that."

He could sense that she was beginning to shut down again, her body becoming rigid and her eyes holding that distant look. Clearly, talking about what had happened was too much for her and so in a split second decision, John leaned across the bed and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, her body instantly loosening as she sunk into it.

"It's okay. You don't have to talk about it." He whispered, also finding comfort in her hugging him back. He could see his struggles with trauma mirrored through her, as could she with him and for a moment, they both felt their brains stop shouting as they held each other.

—————

For the next couple hours, they spoke and drank; laughing at each other's jokes and reminiscing on their childhoods. After the hug, they made no more physical contact - much to the hidden dismay of both of them - instead staying a foot apart on the bed, passing the bottle or a lighter across it every few minutes.

John found himself completely captivated by the woman. By her wit and intelligence, the humour that would effortlessly fall from her mouth and how beautiful she looked as it fell. Despite the amount of time she spent suffering, her face had not aged as some soldiers did at war. Instead, she'd grown even more gorgeous, "perhaps because she's more mysterious than ever before" thought John, but he couldn't place it exactly.

Alice's mind also ran wild with thoughts of the man beside her. His tough exterior was easily crumbled, instead revealing that inside he was kind, emotionally intelligent and funny. Even with a considerable amount of liquor in his system, he remained charming and cool, two words she never thought she'd use to describe John Shelby.

"He was such a weird kid, always trailing behind me or his brothers. I never expected him to turn out like this." She thought to herself, becoming more impressed by his presence by the minute.

She could sense a deep sadness in him, maybe one that matched her own, and much like his curiosity for her, she decided that she wanted to sniff out that sadness and maybe help fix it. It was the least she could do after he kind of saved her.

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void-galaxy-shenanigans · 3 years ago

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((I was given permission to post as myself nut I'm awkward about it so, uh.....here goes))

Hi. I’m Hemlock (he/they). I’m a protector & a persecutor, & I’ve....been dormant apparently for around 10 to 12 years.

In the time I was down....

I expected the body to be different, & that's fine. There's been a couple improvements, even. Better wardrobe & all.

But there's also...so much other stuff.

We got a therapist at some point? They know we're a system & are comfortable being overt/obvious about it here/on this platform? & more trauma, of course.

Last I remember it was supposed to be a secret, & not letting on to Nico & all the frequent fronters was, like,...my Good Guy™ card (/met). It was something I was good at.

I'm a persecutor, so I don't have a lot going for me. Self destructive, my own self care is sh*t (but I'm able to caretake for others), self deprecating, heck probably also some kind of self h*rm that I didn't know was bad too. So with that gone, ¿am I just....a bad headmate again? (I both want an answer & fear the answer. Please answer that but also please don't? I'm indecisive—)

I'm very disoriented & our body is physically ill which isn't making me feel better.

There isn't exactly a point to this, but coming out of a long dormancy is.....disorienting, to say the least.

& the fact that all the usual caretakers are so worn down that they called on a persecutor-caretaker to handle things? That's bad. IDK exactly what to do about it but it means we're doing too much of something. Or not enough self care. Or both. IDK.

Anyway......how's your day going? 😂 Mine’s great 😁✌

~Hemlock

(he/they)

((Just publicly replying to you, don’t mind me—

Hemlock, no. You aren’t bad. You are capable of doing better, & we need you right now. Just because we no longer need to hide that we exist/that we are plural doesn’t mean you’re bad. You have other talents & as you front more I’m sure you’ll get better at other things too. ��

~Ward (primary gatekeeper; he/they)))

**Edit/Update: It’s completely okay to reply/interact with this post. Hemlock could use the reassurance. We don't mind people liking, interacting, etc. - usually, quite the opposite...it makes us smile to see people interacting with our posts. If you wanna reblog to add something you can, or ask questions about dormancy/systemhood, ask questions about being a persecutor/persecutor-caretaker, or generally ask questions or offer reassurance, that's okay. If you wanna reply or send us asks (even anon asks) for any of those reasons, that's okay. My only comment is if you are specifically fakeclaiming or sending/posting hate, or shaming Ward or Hemlock, you will be blocked. Our page is a safe space for all our headmates & for other systems, & I/we will maintain that. ~Caspian**

#did system #osdd system #pluralgang #plural system #plural #plurality #multiplicity #multiplicity system #~Hemlock #headmate #alters #dissociative identity disorder #osdd-1 #dormancy #tw dormancy #gatekeeper headmate #gatekeeper #persecutor headmate #persecutor

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haikyu-hoe · 4 years ago

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You’re safe now

Tsukkishima Kei x reader

one shot, angst-ish but fluff (happy ending)

⚠️ warning ⚠️ mentions of s*lf h*rm, sc*rs and su*cidal thoughts. please do not read if you feel like this might trigger you !!

Hope you guys enjoy this more angsty fanfic, dm if you have any requests xx

———————————————————————

You’re a first year at Karasuno. Everyday has been the same since the beginning of the year. Each morning you wake up to this feeling of emptiness that’s slowly eating you alive. At this point, you don’t even know why you get up in the morning anymore.

It’s not like anymore cares, right? Sure you do have a few friends, but they probably only tag along because they pity you or because sometimes you bring them sweets. And your parents... they were never really abusive but it’s like they made sure to always keep a toxic atmosphere in the house.

As for your grades, they’ve just kept going downhill since September. You’ve kinda given up, since no one expects much from you anymore. Or so you thought.

After class, you’re supposed to meet up with your teacher so she can introduce you to your new tutor, a fellow student who will help you with your homework. This is your last chance to pick yourself up, as she said.

You enter the teachers lounge to see Tsukkishima Kei, a guy in your class, standing beside your teacher. She introduces the both of you, and you leave for the studying class. You walk there in silence. There’s many students studying in groups there, and you sit beside Tsukkishima at a table by the windows.

“let’s get started, yeah?”, he asks, as if he’s impatient to be done. Didn’t he volunteer for this though? Maybe the teacher picked him because he has good grades and he’s forced to be here...

Tsukkishima had quite the reputation amongst the first years. He wasn’t only known to be a tall, handsome volleyball player but also a smartass and an asshole. You feared he might be mean to you if he had been forced to do this. Your mental health was hanging by a thread and if he even did so much as raise his voice at you, you would break down.

“Did you volunteer for this?”, you ask shyly.

“Yeah, what about it.”, he replies in a cold, annoyed tone.

“It’s just- did- why-” you sigh. “doesn’t matter”

“maybe he was offered bonus points... not that he needs them though.”, you think to yourself. But it doesn’t matter, nothing does. Everything in life is temporary, except pain, so that’s the only thing you must focus on.

You take out a math textbook, and Tsukkishima starts explaining the first problem. 10 minutes later, you still don’t get it and your tutor is obviously very annoyed by your ignorance.

“God y/k can you just focus on this? It’s basic mathematical equations!”, he says while lightly rolling his eyes.

“Hey i’m sorry i’m not as smart as you, ok? I’m sorry i’m not good at anything, i’m sorry i can’t do anything right!”, you say as tears start forming in your eyes. As they begin rolling down your cheeks, you get up to leave.

You go to push your chair, but Tsukkishima grabs you by the wrist.

“Ow! let me go!”, you scream.

“Shh i’m not even pulling hard-” he replies, trying to calm you down before people start staring.

Tsukkishima is determined to keep you here, so he pulls at your wrist, you fight back and in all this commotion, your sleeve gets slightly rolled up, revealing a freshly scarred wrist.

Tsukkishima lets go quickly upon seeing the scars, looking away. You pull down your sleeve and leave.

“God what’s his problem”, you think. “it’s not like anyone’s asking him to do this! What does he care anyway”

Tonight is a night like the others. Homework, TV, slashing your wrists... you can’t even feel the pain anymore. All you know is you want this to end.

The next day, you catch Tsukkishima staring at you in class multiple times throughout the day. What a brat, what a jerk! “He probably just wanted to mock me”, you think.

You don’t tell your friends about any of this. None of their business. You’ve never been much of a talker, after all. At the end of the day, you don’t even wait for them to walk home. Not like they’d wait for you either, so what does it matter.

But someone is waiting for you at the gate. You try to walk fast in front of him, but the tall blond haired boy still notices you.

“Oi, y/k.”, he says calmly, putting an arm in front of you to block the way.

You have no choice but to stop. You let out a deep sigh before turning your head to him.

“Would you mind stopping by the park with me?”, asks Tsukkishima.

“sure”, you shrug.

It’s not like you had any plans tonight. It was going to be a regular evening of procrastination, trying to do homework but not getting anything done because of the unbearable amount of stress and spiralling anxiety and finally going to sleep at 1 am. Your parents don’t get home until after dinner, so they won’t know any of this. You wonder if they’d even notice. Sometimes it feels as if no one would care if you disappeared.

Tsukkishima goes to grabs your wrist to make you follow him, but you hear him mutter “right, sorry”, before backing away.

The whole time you walk at a slow pace, not even trying to keep up with the tall volleyball player. At some point it starts irritating him, so he gestures at you to walk faster. You sigh and do a bit of an effort to keep up, but you’re still not fast enough so Tsukkishima just grabs your hand to force you to go to a quicker pace.

You’re about to protests, but why? You might not be around for long anymore so might as well do some crazy shit while you’re still here, while you’re still... alive.

His hand feels so comforting in yours, but you have to remind that this doesn’t mean anything. But still, the feeling of being love had become a distant memory until now. It awakens a part of you you thought was gone forever, killed by sadness.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even notice you’ve arrived at the park, until Tsukkishima lets go of your hand. It’s a modest park with only two wooden benches, an old fountain full of coins and a few trees.

Tsukkishima turns to face you as you sit down besides him.

“So what did you want?”, you ask, eager to get out of there, even if you’d rather die than go home. But that’s probably just because you feel like you don’t belong anywhere, ever.

“I’m worried about you, y/k...” starts Tsukkishima. “I’ve watched the light in your eyes go out rapidly since the beginning of the year, your smile get more and more fake... Thays why I volunteered to help you out.”

“Out of pity, huh. Great.”, you sigh. You roll your eyes and look away, crossing your arms.

“That’s not it, y/k. You just seemed like such a good person, always caring about others even though your own life was going downhill... I couldn’t bear to see you like this. Because the truth is...”

He stops mid sentence, just looking at you. You eventually turn back to him, staring at his glistening hazel eyes. He doesn’t seem like the asshole everyone warned you about at all. A cute blond strand dances to the rythme of the wind in front of his eyes, and you just want to put it out of the way...

“i love you.”, finally finishes Tsukkishima.

This wasn’t what you were expecting. It actually explains a lot of things, but creates a bunch of new questions too. He looks a bit embarrassed, and his cheeks become a light shade of pink, just like his soft looking lips.

You gradually get closer to him, and before you know it, your faces are only inches apart. He cups your face with his hands, lightly brushing your cheeks. Tears form in your eyes, and without thinking another second, you kiss Tsukkishima.

He kisses you passionately, making you remember all the things that have kept you alive so far... All your ambitions, all your dreams, all your hopes.

You feel his hands run down your neck, then reach your shoulders and finally your arms. He glides his fingers under your sleeves, running them on your scars. It feels fresh and reassuring.

Your lips part after a minute and Tsukkishima whispers “you’re safe now.”

You hug him tightly, sobbing violently against his chest. He holds you close to him, and you finally calm down, reassured by the steady sound of his heartbeat.

“I won’t try to pretend to know what you’re going though but please, y/k, let me try my best, ok?”, he whispers in your ear. His warm breath tickles against your neck.

You back off a bit to look at him, slightly brushing your fingers against his pale face. You nod lightly. He softly kisses your forehead, takes your hand and says “let me walk you home.”

You walk at his pace this time, keeping your bodies as close as possible. When you reach your house, it’s like waking up from a dream that wasn’t over. You can’t let go just yet...

“How about I try to help you with maths again tomorrow?”, he says, seeing your eyes full of tears. You nod, and Tsukkishima lifts your chin with a finger to place one last kiss on your lips.

You look at him walking away from your porch until he’s completely out of sight. For the first time in months, you feel something other than stress, like a shining star in this pitch black void that was your heart. Excitement, happiness or maybe even... love?

-the end-

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cotncandyboifics · 4 years ago

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1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 2

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 1,974

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: <none> (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: there's an excessively detailed description of the biology project in this chapter. I haven't read it since i first wrote and edited this chapter two years ago. :)

...

Logan walked into his 4th Period class, biology, with a glint in his eye. He enjoyed the class quite a lot, and the teacher was passionate about the material, making the learning process all that much better.

"Good morning students!" He said cheerily from the whiteboard. "As you can see, I've rearranged the desks into groups of 4, and if you look up here at the board, you'll see the seating chart. These will be your groups for this semester's project." Logan scanned the projected seating chart and found his name. Near the center of the room, and his desk at an angle which he could still see the teacher. He glanced at the other names. he recognized two of them; Roman Prince, the school jock, and Virgil Black, notoriously introverted and depressing. The third name he didn't recognize; Patton Whitelock. He took a seat at his assigned desk, and awaited the arrival of his group mates.

Patton and Virgil arrived together. Logan recognized Virgil with his purple hair and sulking form, and as they walked closer, assumed the perky boy walking with him was Patton. Upon seeing him he realized this was someone he actually had several classes with, but had never bothered to pair a name with his face. He seemed to radiate an infectious joyful aura, and Logan felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he approached. Virgil just gave Logan a small nod, while Patton smiled wide and stuck his hand out across the desks to shake Logan's pale steady hand.

"Hi there!! My name's Patton! You're Logan, right?" Patton's voice went perfectly with his demeanor. Logan allowed a smile to cross his face - just out of politeness, of course - as he shook Patton's hand.

"Hello Patton. Yes, Logan Montgomery. And you must be Virgil, correct?" He said, looking over at the dark boy sitting across from him, who was now slumped over on his desk with earbuds in. Virgil just glanced at him and gave a small nod.

Then, in a burst of flamboyance, Roman arrived at the table with his signature smirk displayed proudly on his face. He glanced around at his teammates. His smirk faltered at the sight of ta certain purple-haired emo, but he continued to scan as he sat smoothly, sliding his backpack under the desk. He greeted Patton with a handshake - the two were relatively friendly, as Patton often helped organize football events - and upon seeing the tall pale boy seated next to him, changed tone.

"Why hello there," Roman said in a deep voice, leaning over to Logan, who tensed up momentarily. But he regained himself quickly, and turned to face Roman.

"Salutations. Logan Montgomery. You are Roman Prince, I presume," Logan said cordially, holding his hand out to the jock. Roman only smirked and took Logan's hand, kissing his knuckles gently. In that moment Logan cursed his off-white skin, as he felt his face heat up and was sure the blush was plain as day. It only made Roman smirk more to see the effect of his actions.

"But of course. I suppose I should be thankful for the honor of being grouped with such a handsome-" In the midst of his courting, Roman was interrupted by the teacher clearing his throat and giving further instructions on the project.

"These will be your groups. No buts, this is final. Unless there is a serious conflict, I will absolutely not be changing your groups. Now that that's out of the way, I'll explain the project." He clicked a button on his computer, and the projection changed to a presentation about their project. "You are to write a detailed, extensive report on Lepidium Sativum, or Garden Cress, and its attributes in various environments. there will be three rounds in this project." He clicked a button again, and the slide changed. "in the first round, you will have two plants being given the same amount of water and light, but two different types of fertilizer. after two weeks, the fertilizer that has been the most effective in helping the plant thrive will be used for all future rounds." Next slide. "in the second round, you will have two entirely different garden cress plants, that are to have the exact same amount of sunlight and both be planted in the better fertilizer from the previous round. you are to take the recommended amount of water you should give the plants per day, and give one plant less than said amount and the other more. repeat this process for two weeks, and note which plant thrived more. This plant's dosage of water will be used in the next round as well." Next slide. "For the final round, two new plants will be given the optimal fertilizer and amount of water, but different amounts of sunlight. One is to be in the sun constantly, the other is to be kept out of the light. Whichever one is the most successful after two weeks time, will be presented in class at the end of said time period. these plants will be 10% of your grade for this project." Next slide. "Your report will include the following 11 paragraphs; 1, prior knowledge. any and all things you collectively know about Garden Cress. If you know nothing, then I'd devote some time to researching the plant. 2, the procedure for the first round. step-by-step description of what you did in the two weeks. 3, hypothesis or predictions for the outcome of the first round. 4, the results of the first round. 5, 6, and 7 repeat 2, 3, and 4 but for the second round, and 8, 9, and 10 for the third round. the 11th paragraph will be the conclusion; comparing all the results and analyzing them, whether you think your experiment was accurate, etcetera. I expect before and after pictures of both plants for all three rounds in your report as well." He then turned off the projector and walked over to a table, which had 16 plants on it. "Today is the beginning of the experiment, one group member will be chosen for the entirety of this lab to be conducted at their house, and said group member will come up and take two plants from here at the end of the period. We have... 10 minutes left. discuss among yourselves."

With that, they were off. Logan had been furiously scribbling notes in somehow impeccable handwriting. He looked up once the teacher had stopped talking and cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. "I will take the plants to my house. We should meet there every week at least, preferably on a consecutive weekday," he said.

But Roman had other plans, that he thought were absolutely brilliant in terms of his suddenly enticing pursuit of Logan. "Au contraire, my bespectacled friend," He began, "I believe that the best household for our project to be conducted in would be chez-moi," Roman finished with a dramatic hand-to-the-chest pose. Virgil couldn't keep in a scoff and a smirk, murmuring something under his break about how Roman didn't speak french. The others ignored him, but Patton looked at him curiously.

"And what could have possibly led you to that conclusion? I strongly believe that of the four of us," Logan said, looking around at his partners, "I am the most responsible. So, I'm curious to hear your reasoning," Logan finished, adjusting his glasses again and facing Roman more prominently.

"Well, Microsoft Nerd," Roman said, at which Virgil smirked again, "My house is only a few blocks away from school. Its very accessible, and I for one know that at least two of us would prefer to be near school," Roman said, looking over at Virgil.

Virgil considered protesting, but decided against it. "...I mean, he's not wrong," He said quietly.

Roman rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the assist, JD-lightful. Patton, what do you think?" Roman said, turning his attention to Patton, who was staring at his desk with a hint of a blush on his face.

He looked up upon being addressed, and responded. "Oh, um, I'm alright with either honestly." He said, slightly less perky than usual, glancing at Logan before looking back down.

Logan simply sighed and adjusted his glasses again. "Well, I'm not going to argue with you over something so trivial, so fine. We can go to your house."

Roman clapped loudly and put his hands down on the desk. "Wonderful! How's about tonight? And every Monday hereafter?" He said, looking between all of them. Logan nodded once, Patton nodded vigorously (only after Logan had given his nod), and Virgil just slowly bobbed his head up and down as if he was exhausted, leaning into his arm that was propped up on his desk. "Okay, it's a plan! Meet you all at the front of the school when 8th period is over." And with that, the teacher got the students' attention again.

"Alright students, it's time. Send up whomever will be taking the plants to their house." Roman stood up proudly and strut over to the table, where he picked out two of the nicest-looking plants on the table. There was a minute or two before they were dismissed, so the four of them took the opportunity to exchange phone numbers. Then the bell rang, and the students immediately filed out the classroom door and dispersed.

...

When Roman walked up to the bench at the front of the school at the end of the day - followed by a few of his fan girls, of course - only Logan was there. As Logan noticed people walking his way, he put away his phone hastily, as if embarrassed, and quickly began pulling different notebooks out of his backpack, trying to look busy. As Roman approached, he dismissed his pursuers and sat on the opposite side of the bench, while Logan attempted to start his Calculus homework.

"Well, if it isn't the Microsoft Turd," Roman said, looking over at Logan.

Logan didn't look up, merely scoffed. "You already made that joke."

"Well, it was a variation, and I can think of a Microsoft Third!" Roman shot back, smirking once again.

Mr. No-nonsense Logan responded, "have you heard from the others? it's been approximately... 12.4 minutes since 8th period ended," he said, checking his watch.

"No, not particularly. However, I did see Virgil sulking in the hallway on my off-block. Ugh, the nerve of him; he's constantly ruining the mood for everyone, in every situation! Are you listening to me?" Roman said, watching as Logan did his same scribble in a graph paper notebook, breezing through his work.

"No."

Roman put on an extremely offended face, and would've retorted, had Patton and Virgil not walked up at that exact moment. Roman opened his mouth to say something to Logan but his eyes caught Virgil's radiant hair, and he was momentarily distracted.

"Hey Logan!!" Patton said cheerily, waving to him while keeping his thumbs behind his backpack straps. "Are you ready for some science!?" He said the last word with zeal, and Logan looked up at him, smiling softly.

"Yes, I am rather looking forward to the actual project," Logan said, then glancing over at Roman, "though I expect there will be plenty of distractions on Roman's account."

"Only distractions you'll enjoy," Roman said, wiggling his eyebrows "flirtatiously". Virgil scoffed yet again from behind Patton, trying to hide his smile.

"Well, then let's get going!! I-I mean, if you're ready, Logan." Patton said, referring to Logan having surrounded himself with textbooks and notes.

"Oh, right." Logan pushes his glasses up the bride of his nose, and made quick work of putting his things away. Roman made an attempt in vain to carry Logan's pack; Logan said he wouldn't trust Roman with his backpack if it was "consisting of objects of an inconsequential nature, which it is not."

And they four made their way down the sidewalk, talking and teasing each other, unaware of the growing bonds between them.

#patton sanders #ts patton #ts roman #roman sanders #logan sanders #ts logan #ts virgil #virgil sanders #prinxiety #logicality #virgil x roman #logan x patton #high school AU #sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fanfiction

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devilsskettle · 3 years ago

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i think nearly half the time i have a problem with a movie, it’s because of the pacing, and unfortunately i think that’s the most difficult part to get right while also being the foundation for the whole movie. this is definitely true imo of the fear street movies. it’s not just that the overall pacing in fear street is pretty rough, it’s also the pacing of the scenes, especially when they try to have an emotional moment but don’t seem to know how to transition smoothly back to the main plot so the ends of certain scenes are choppy and abrupt. like both of alice’s big emotional moments seem shoehorned in to try to get the audience to care about her without really thinking about working in that dialogue naturally. it’s probably bad to say this but the first time i watched that scene where cindy confesses to snitching on her and alice tells her about her s*lf h*rm, i literally laughed out loud not because the content of the scene is funny obviously but because the first time alice shows emotional vulnerability and expresses herself genuinely, they don’t even try to wrap up the scene - the next line of dialogue after “we all have our ways of dealing with shadyside” is cindy recognizing the red moss from camp lol it’s like the writers were like oh, we actually need to make alice an emotionally compelling character, so they spun a wheel of generic teen drama issues and landed on s*lf h*rm, put it into their madlibs for dramatic teen dialogue, and were like okay that’s enough of that, moving on. (for the record i’m not making light of s*lf h*rm, i know it’s a serious issue and it’s one that i deal with myself, which is why i have a problem with how carelessly they threw it into the story as a cheap tactic to try to get you to care about a character they didn’t even care about enough to actually give any character development, without thinking about it with any nuance or sensitivity imo. i know other people were fine with it so maybe i’m hypercritical and hypersensitive but whatever that’s just my opinion).

then when she makes her big speech about standing up and fighting the curse, she’s immediately axed in the face. like i’m sorry but what is the point if there was going to be no suspense at all between her climactic character development moment and her death. i’m not saying i need them to write a novel but i think we need at least three minutes or so between then and her death for the speech to have emotional resonance or else it seems like either a poorly executed (no pun intended) joke or sloppy writing

(much like simon’s death - again, i literally laughed out loud the first time i watched it but it really does seem like they just. ran out of time and didn’t know how to kill him but needed him dead for plot purposes lol, it also cuts short the potential emotional impact of kate’s death since neither he or josh have a chance to react beyond the initial shock).

then there’s a couple moments in part 3 where i thought they were setting up some kind of moment of emotional connection between ziggy and the other characters, but they just didn’t follow through at all. first of all, she was criminally underutilized in the 1994 part of the plot line, but we might’ve gotten a little bit better of an idea of her life and personality as an adult if she had just been given any meaningful dialogue at all lol. like when she sees the tree at the mall and has flashbacks to the camp nightwing massacre, deena comes up to her and they have a moment together looking at the tree and deena goes “this is it” and ziggy just says “yup” and walks away so deena can have her own tree-related flashback and i just??? i really expected them to have some kind of little exchange since they’re really similar characters who have gone through difficult curse-related challenges and have lost people they’ve cared about as a result and they’re both risking their lives to try to break the curse and help each other and they haven’t really had a conversation with each other about any of that and you’d think at some point they would at least from a writing perspective as narrative parallels and they had this little moment all set up to do that and they just decided to show us shit we’ve already seen again? then abruptly cut back to the main action? and then later when josh is like “i can’t lose my sister!” you’d think that’s a big emotionally climactic moment for josh but also it’s something that maybe would resonate with ziggy since her sister also was murdered by the same killers they’re fighting but she and martin just stand there looking at him like ._. then it cuts away to the main action again like they really could’ve done more there i don’t know i just find it so hard to stay emotionally invested in movies that don’t really know what they’re trying to do with their characters in the first place

#it actually reminds me of why i don’t love mike flanagan’s brand of horror – which is the kinds of horror movies/shows that netflix makes #i think the success of the haunting series clearly informed the fear street movies #but where the lack of emotional resonance & character development undermines the plot & horror elements in fear street #i think the haunting series is very character driven – sometimes to the point of undermining the plot (& especially the horror) of the story #but it’s still more effective narratively to me than the fear street movies are even with this flaw #oh pacing is also the main problem i have with ahs coven lol i just think they ran out of time to do what they wanted to do #anyway. yeah #fear street

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ghostly-headcanons · 3 years ago

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Hey, I'm Mod Bug! It's very nice to meet you all! I hope we can get along and I can write some nice things for all of you!! :D (More info under the cut!)

Pronouns : She/They, Buzz/Buzzy/Buzzself (preferred)

Accounts : Main - @bumblebeebubs Art - @bumbledoesart Roleplay blogs : (Danganronpa) Miu - @smol-inventor-bby Sonia - @smol-princess-bby Peko - @smol-sword-bby Ieshi (My OC) - @smol-dancer-bby Ariel (My OC) - @silk-dancer-bby

(Happy Tree Friends) Bee - @ask-squishy-and-bee

(FNF) Beatrice - @the-russian-bee

(Fnaf) Beatrice - @fearful-one I am not the head of the blog, Mod Ghostie is! Other info! : I am a MINOR- please don't be creepy- I draw quite a bit! (see my art account!) I am an age regressor! I stim I have motor/vocal tics I kin

What I can do! : Headcanons!

Oneshots!

AUs!

Character x Character (sometimes)

Character x reader

I can write ab*se. s*lf h*rm, as well as other dark themed things. (Please ask if it's okay before requesting!) All angsty triggering things will be tagged with a trigger warning!

Slight NSFW (limes, little things)

Fluff!

OCs / fangame characters if I am given the information of the character or know of the character! (The only OCs I currently would write for is Danganronpa)

Any HC that is not on my blacklist or Will not do list

This is all for now

What I WILL NOT do :

Incest

Pedophilia

Extreme Gore

Major Character Death

Major NSFW or Kink

Ships I am not comfortable with

That's all for now

Sources :

Danganronpa Trigger Happy Havoc

Ultra Despair Girls

Super Danganronpa: 2 Goodbye Despair

Danganronpa v3: Killing Harmony

Dead By Daylight

Sallyface

Marble Hornets

That's all for now

Blacklist : (characters and ships I'm not comfy writing)

Haiji Towa

Celestia Ludenberg

Tenko x men (platonic is fine)

Mikan x Junko

The Warriors of Hope x Anyone (platonic is fine)

(if any of these things pop up, please tag as 'Bee don't look')

All for now

Whitelist :

Characters!

Mondo Owada

Kiyotaka Ishimaru

Toko Fukawa

Kazuichi Souda

Gundham Tanaka

Nagito Komaeda

Kokichi Ouma

Komaru Naegi

No ships really, I like most!

More characters to be added soon!

Any mention of s**cidal thoughts, self h*rm, and ab*se will be tagged with tw [subject] Ask to tag is something is triggering please! I will try and tag the fandom!

Mod Bug 🐝

Bug Speaks

Bug hc

Bug request

Bug accepts

Bug denies

🐝 Request complete

🐝 Request pending

🐝 OC requests (for OCs and fan characters)

🐝 Not a request

Bug don't look

#Mod intro #Mod Bug 🐝#Bug speaks #Bug hc #Bug requests #Bug accepts #Bug denies #🐝 Request complete #🐝 Request pending #🐝 OC requests #🐝 Not a request

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chocolvte · 6 years ago

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STRAY KIDS IMAGINE.

. . han jisung finding out that you SH

trigger warning — this post includes graphic descriptions of s*lf h*rm. please DO NOT read if this kind of material is triggering for you.

listen to coffee breath by sofia mills

valentine’s day was a hard time of year for you. not because you were single (you had gotten very lucky in the boyfriend department), but because it always seemed to remind you of how inadequate you were.

you like to do it in your bathtub, so it’s less messy. that’s where jisung found you on valentine’s day. you tried to tug your shirt down over the cuts before he could see what was happening, but the heartbreaking look on his face was enough to tell you it was too late. now he knew.

“y/n,” jisung’s voice cracked. he tried again, but the lump in his throat made it impossible as his tears spilled over. he dropped to the floor next to the tub. “what’s going on?”

you didn’t know what to say, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

“i’m sorry,” you tried in a helpless whisper, hoping it was the right thing to say.

“don’t be sorry,” jisung wiped his tears away aggressively. “i’m the one who should be sorry. i should have noticed. i should have helped you.”

you didn’t look at jisung’s face. you knew your heart couldn’t take it. jisung’s hands hovered near your face, finally deciding to move as he brushed your hair away from your forehead.

“can i see?” he whispered gently. you bit your bottom lip, nodding. he took a breath and lifted your shirt up softly. he couldn’t stop his intake of breath at the sight of the messy red lines, vision getting blurry with fresh tears. he blinked them away. you needed him right now.

“well they don’t look very deep,” jisung cleared his throat. “we just need to clean you up a little. and i can make you some tea later to help you sleep.”

he did his best to smile encouragingly at you, but it was crumpled at the edges, a shadow of his usually bright grin which made your heart ache.

gently, jisung helped you out of the tub. you still felt numb inside, your movements sluggish and minimal. everything felt a little hazy, like maybe you were just imagining this was happening, but then jisung’s hands squeezed your waist, right above your injuries, and you were brought back to the present.

his hands were extra careful as they wiped away the excess blood and disinfected the wounds with an alcohol swab. the sting made you hiss, the first sound out of you since you tried to apologize.

jisung glanced up at you with a smile. it was small, but it was so soft and loving it made you want to kick yourself. how could you do this to him? he had enough to worry about without having to take care of you.

all of a sudden you were crying, chest heaving with the force of your sobs. jisung looked alarmed, standing up immediately to wrap you in the tightest hug he’d ever given you.

“shh, it’s okay. i’m right here, love.” you allowed jisung’s words to wash over you. despite the anxiety you felt over your secret getting exposed, he always made you feel safe and warm.

jisung dropped your old shirt in your laundry basket as he carried you from your bathroom into your bedroom. he set you down on your bed and moved over to the bag of things he brought to stay the night to search for one of his hoodies.

“are you staying over?” you didn’t know why that was the first thing you thought to say, but it felt good. it felt normal, which was something you needed after the past twenty minutes.

“i was planning on it,” jisung emerged from his bag with a slightly worn dark green sweatshirt. it was your favorite thing of his to borrow, despite the hole worn into one of the elbows, because of how comfy it was and the way it retained jisung’s scent for weeks. “i wanted to surprise you. you know, for valentine’s day? but i can go if you want to be alone.”

“no, i—” you swallowed, letting jisung help you pull the sweatshirt over your head. “i don’t want to be by myself right now.”

“good luck getting rid of me then,” jisung smiled. he let his hands linger on your cheeks, fingers gently skimming over the skin. he looked serious all of a sudden. “y/n, i love you. i know you probably don’t want to talk about what just happened, but i want you to know that you can. you can tell me anything, i’ll never judge you or stop loving you or anything else that you’re afraid of. i promise.”

“i don’t deserve you,” you bit your bottom lip, hard, dropping your gaze to your lap as tears filled your eyes for what felt like the millionth time. “i’m so awful and annoying and gross, i don’t understand why you’re so nice to me.”

jisung was shocked. he had no idea you felt that way about yourself and he didn’t even know where to begin explaining to you how wrong you were.

“y/n,” he pulled you into another hug. “where did you learn to be so mean to yourself? you deserve all of the love in the world. from me and your friends and your family and especially from yourself.”

jisung pulled back to press a kiss to your lips softly. “love, can you promise me something?”

“what do you want me to promise?” for the first time since he first found you, you felt fear turn your whole body cold. you weren’t sure what you would do if he tried to make you promise to never do it again because you honestly weren’t sure if you could keep that promise.

“i want you to promise that you’ll talk to someone about this. not me. well, yes me if you want to, but also a professional, like a therapist or something,” jisung rubbed up and down your upper arms reassuringly. “would you be willing to try to get better? not for me, but for you?”

you thought about it, chewing your lower lip nervously. truthfully, you wanted to stop, but you were scared of messing up your recovery and disappointing everyone, especially jisung who was being so sweet to you right now.

“i’ll try,” you finally agreed softly. “i don’t want to let you down.”

“y/n, baby, you could never let me down. i can’t imagine how hard this has to be,” he looked you in the eyes as he spoke, the fingers of his right hand rubbing back and forth over your exposed knee. “i want you to want to get better for you. because you deserve to be happy.”

“okay,” you mumbled, eyes fluttering closed as you felt a wave of exhaustion hit you like a truck. “i’ll do my best, i promise.”

“thank you, love,” jisung leaned back against the pile of pillows against your headboard, pulling you down on top of him. he kissed your cheek lovingly. “for now just focus on falling asleep for me, okay? i’ll keep you safe. i love you, sunshine.”

#tw self harm #stray kids #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #han jisung #han #jisung x reader #3racha #jone #han jisung x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #trigger warning #jisung angst #jisung fluff

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babybluebex · 5 years ago

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The Beast

here’s josh! i love until dawn and i love poor little josh, so here’s this! (lol remember in eighth grade when i’d post a chapter every day??? can you say unneeded stress??) ((also this has mentions of s*lf h*rm and s*icide so sorry about that)) (((was gonna post this tomorrow but i’m posting it today whoops)))

“You can go as slow as you need to, Leila. Nobody’s rushing you at all.”

I sighed deeply and hung my head into my hands. It had been a year; I thought it would get easier. Grief never seems to get easier. I saw that for myself with my father after my mother’s death, my husband after his sisters’ deaths, and now me with my husband. It hurt. Waking up with an empty bed, only making one cup of tea, not being surrounded by his heavy music from the moment I woke up. It was the smallest things that I missed about Josh. He used to have a habit of loading the dishwasher wrong (the plates face the side of the machine and not the front, who raised this man?), but my heart hurt every time I thought about how I would fix it and get fake-mad at Josh. He would kiss me and call me a bitch for being so anal-retentive about dishes, but I knew that he meant no ill will at all.

“Start with the facts,” Dr. Hill told me. “Things that have proven to be true.”

I took a deep breath. “Umm…” I began. “My name’s Leila Washington. Last year, my husband Josh and I went up to his family’s cabin on Mount Washington for Christmas. Last year was one year since his sisters disappeared. I…” My arms secured snugly around my body to keep the tears in, and a whine burst forward from my throat. “There was a noise outside. A hurt animal or something. Josh was always such a… A good guy. He loved animals, and he wanted to go help it. He left the cabin, and… He was gone.”

“Gone?” Dr. Hill repeated.

I sobbed into my sweater sleeves. “He didn’t come back,” I mumbled. “I-I called the police and they came up the mountain and… Th-They found blood. They couldn’t prove whether it was Josh’s or not, but they said it was human.”

“What do you think happened?” Dr. Hill asked. He was a nice man, older with a dusting of fine hair on his head, and he had never given me a reason to be uneasy at all, but his watery blue eyes gave me pause. I felt like they were staring directly into my mind, seeing my thoughts and sorting them out before I could say them.

“I refuse to believe that someone hurt him,” I said swiftly. “He-He got hurt helping the animal and got lost getting back, it was really snowing hard that night. I know realistically that he’s dead, but I don’t want to think about if he was in pain or not. I… It’s easier for me to think that it was sudden and that he had no idea what happened.”

“And that’s a fate better than being able to come to terms with his death?” Dr. Hill offered.

“I hope he didn’t suffer,” I mumbled. “That’s my biggest fear: he got hurt and was alone when he died. He had to have been scared. In pain. God, I… Jesus Christ.”

“What was your biggest fear when you and Josh got married?” Dr. Hill asked. “Losing him?”

I nodded.

Dr. Hill nodded as well, and he said, “I know that you’ll fight me on this, Leila. You’re a fighter and that’s what makes me think that you can do this. I want you to go to the cabin within the next week and stay one night. Only one night. It’s called exposure therapy; only once you confront your troubles can you begin to understand and resolve them.”

My breath caught in my chest. “No,” I mumbled. “I-I can’t. I can’t go back to where my husband died. That’s crazy to even suggest that! I- No!”

“Leila, there is a brick wall between where we are now in your recovery and where we need to be,” Dr. Hill told me gently. “Going to the place where the trauma occurred will help tear down that wall, or at least chip a hole into it. We need an opening, Leila, and this how we get it.”

I chewed my bottom lip hard enough to bring blood to stain my teeth. “One night?”

Dr. Hill nodded.

“Can I bring someone with me?”

“If you wish to.”

I sighed. I was crazy for agreeing to this. I was wishing bad things onto myself. I had lost it. “I’ll do it.”

***

“Jesus Christ, another documentary?”

“Yes, Josh,” I grinned. “And you’re gonna watch it with me.”

“What makes you say that?” Josh asked me. He was a good looking man, shaggy black hair and bright blue eyes with olive-toned skin, and a smile played at his lips as he teased me. Ever since we had known each other, we always liked poking fun at each other; it was just who we were. None of it was ever meant in malice, but our friends still thought we were crazy for teasing each other so often.

“Because you love me and you’ll do anything for me,” I told him and batted my eyelashes.

Josh clicked his tongue. “Got me there, Lei,” he said, and he leaned back on the couch and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “What’re we watching?”

“Nature doc,” I said. “David Attenborough-type stuff.”

Josh lifted his chin as he hummed in understanding. “I’ll be right back,” he said and swiftly got up from the couch, earning him one of my lengthy groans.

“Josh,” I moaned.

“Just getting a drink!” Josh chuckled. “Chill out, boo.”

I started the movie without him, since he wanted to test my patience in the best way that he could, and I said, “Hey, fun fact! Did you know that the human body has literally millions of nerve endings?”

I heard the ice dispense dump out a few cubes into a cup, and then my husband said, “Did David Atta-Lama-Ding-Dong teach you that?”

“Okay, anyway, the human body has millions of nerve endings,” I continued, unfazed by Josh’s heckling. “Some are really small and really hard to find. So, it surprises and amazes me that you manage to find and subsequently get on every single last one of my nerves.”

“Ooh, zing!” Josh chuckled as he sat back down next to me. “How long did it take you to come up with that?”

“I’ve had that puppy in the vault for a long time,” I said. “Just to fuck with you.”

“Clever girl,” Josh smiled. He took a drink from his cup, then furrowed his eyebrows. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” I asked.

Josh stood up quickly, shifting me away from his warm chest. “Hear what, Josh?” I asked again.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. He began to pull on his winter coat and hat, and I stood up and grabbed his arm.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “It’s practically a blizzard out there.”

“I’ll be right back,” Josh told me and kissed me softly. He had a bit of facial hair growing and it scratched my cheeks, and I watched in silent awe as my husband left the house, slamming the door with a curl of snow sneaking in.

The night passed. After about ten minutes, I began to worry, but I trusted Josh. He was a bit of a bonehead at times, but he knew his limits. By the time an hour had passed, I was shaking and sick to my stomach. There was a niggling thought that Josh had been hurt, but I pushed that down. Josh was smart. He wouldn’t do anything to get himself hurt. The sun began to show through the clouds, and that’s when I decided to call the police. Guilt always punched in my stomach when I thought about how I could have called earlier and the police would have had a better chance of finding him, but I had been told that what happened obviously occurred for a reason. Wyrd, they called it. Fate. I had an ounce of hope while the police were examining the grounds around the cabin, and everything flooded out of me when they carefully escorted me to a small swell of snow and pointed out frozen clumps of bloody snow.

I screamed. I cried. I vomited and shook and shut down completely. That was my husband’s blood. Everyone told me that it might not be his, but I knew. People called me crazy for being so steadfast, but I knew that it was Josh’s. I was never sure about what made me so confident that my version of events was true, but I called it a wife’s intuition.

People gently suggested to me that maybe Josh had done this to himself. He had a history of mental health and self harm, and I knew that, and they always offered that the one year anniversary of his sisters’ deaths was maybe too much for him to handle. In fact, that seemed so likely that the police officially closed the case with the theory that Josh had purposefully gone out into the weather to commit suicide. I knew that that was probably what had happened, but I harbored hope, solely based on the fact that I even had the wherewithal to try to differ. I didn’t believe in God— neither did Josh— but I know that She wouldn’t have put the idea in my head if it wasn’t for an inkling of truth.

The aftermath of the night was cruel. There was a funeral, complete with yellow freesias, Josh’s favorite, and people who kept telling me how sorry they were. Eventually, the faces blended together and I couldn’t tell friends apart from family. Sam was a constant for me and I was so thankful for her, but I became sick at the sight of her. My anxiety had always manifested myself in my stomach. Whenever I was scared or nervous, I always became sick.

The quiet moments were the hardest. The ones where I knew Josh would be talking about something and filling the silence, but there was nothing. I cried into his pillow late at night and tried to remember our last night together. It was our first night at the cabin, and he had gently patted my hair and sang to me to help me fall asleep. I had never felt more in love than I did then, and I held onto the memory and pressed it deep into my chest. I would never let it go.

#rami #rami malek #josh #until dawn #josh washington #gaming #fanfiction #fanfic #mine #masterlist #tw//self harm #tw//suicide

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survivorelara · 6 years ago

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Episode #15: “what fucking blog?” - Sam

a close second is another Sam quote, “is he not from london”

oh kori…. you fell right into the trap my guy. you better win that fic....

Final 4, wow, who'da thunk I'd find myself here? I've never been this far before in any ORG, so doing the Rites of Passage is a bit surreal for me. I probably flopped at it, but maybe I didn't... I don't know. XD

I'm just so happy to have come this far, Loris claimed in his exit words that I'm winning, not sure if that's true or not, but I'm certainly hopeful that's for sure. I've put in a lot of work, so I hope to see some results though even getting this far is huge for me.

I'm still not sure what F3 configuration would be the best for me. I've been considering Me Roxy and Sam just because it might be more fun, they are the two people I worked with the most in this game, though I'm unsure because it's honestly a tad difficult to gauge how this Jury feels. They could be bitter against Roxy or it could have mellowed into admiration or at the very least respect. Ci'ere is also hard to place because of his relationships, and I question if he'd be bitter, or not if I voted him out, and if he isn't who he'd vote for. Alternatively if I take him to the end who does he have on the jury and who does he not have, difficult for sure.

Well, I'm totally flopping the challenges so far, I ruined Endurance because I didn't read it wasn't due til 8PM Saturday. (I could have started on Friday and gotten a crazy high time, but I fucked it up thinking this was all due within 24 hours like normal... I might have thought twice if I had ever been to F4 which I should've remembered is a multi-day affair.)

And the Maze, I mean anyone could do as badly as I did, but I doubt they will, it'd be tough to not beat my score.

I'm not confident in my knowledge of the players given I didn't know half of them, and the mystery challenge is well... a mystery.

The only one I feel like I could be good at is the Flash game... BUT IT WON'T LOAD.

Needless to say this is likely to be my worst F4 challenge performance. So I'm gonna have to up the charm, and hope Ci'ere doesn't win since I think they are the best person for me to pitch going instead of myself. (Also because I think their odds of winning is the highest between the other 3.)

Well I finally finished all the challenges, and I was a total flop for the most part, but everyone keeps saying they're flopping too, so who knows. I'm hopeful Sam got first in the Maze and Roxy got first in Endurance, since those were my weak areas, and I want to vote Ci'ere out.

Also with an even spread like that it raises my odds of winning this challenge. Though if Ci'ere totally killed all these challenges I'm probably dead AF.

Since I have no doubt if Ci'ere is safe Roxy is voting me, and Sam might even consider it too though I'd be willing to tie it for him in a similar scenario.

I just can't believe I've come so far, and I don't know if I'm gonna make it all the way despite all my effort, and it kills me to think that. I just hope I get a chance to plead my case to the jury, even if I lose I just want to actually make a FTC.

And gg y'all kori probs just won the season. That's literally the one thing that couldn't have happened

hi so uh I could die here, but im trying my fucking hardest to make it to ftc. I was just really busy these last few days and couldn't put in full effort on the fic which caused kori to win. and now it seems like the vote is between me and ci'ere. the vote originally was gonna be kori but ofc he won fic so here we are... on the edge of my seat trying my best to not get final juror again. I s2g if I get final juror in back to back orgs im actually gonna just get drunk and fuck a dude

so ive got kori on my side who's gonna vote ci'ere with me, which is good because that at least guarantees me a tiebreaker chance. Right now though im tryna convince roxy to vote him as well instead of me because I could easily lose the tiebreaker challenge and not make ftc which would be devastating. Because the thing is, as much as I feel kori has a strong shot at winning this game, I feel I can work some magic and maybe turn this thing around to get me the win, but I gotta get to ftc first

Everyone knows they can beat roxy so shes the deciding vote on if ciere goes or if we are going to a tiebreaker. Ive been talking to her all day now tryna spit facts and lies into her head to get her to change her mind. she fears that if she votes ciere out that she wont get his vote, but I told her straight up if that's what shes worried about and I go on the jury then I wont vote for her either, so now she has no incentive to put me on the jury except if im a bigger threat for her or whatever. I mean lets be real, this is gonna be a very bitter jury. and most of that hate will be directed at me. roxy fears we played similar games but I told her straight up if im there with her, ill receive most of the jury's hate which could be a shield for her and maybe have the jury see her game more since people will probably only vote kori because he isn't as hated. he hasn't played a bad game but he's been a gamebot all game and only played alright, I feel I played great but have to own up to everything and swallow my ego and let the jury know how bad I feel or whatever and let them yell at me. roxy isn't winning, those are the facts. but I need her to vote ciere so I can get to ftc and try and beat kori.

so im just gonna keep bullshitting and say I can be her meatshield in terms of hatred being thrown at us and hope ciere gets final juror instead over me. but one way or another, roxy aint winning lol

jesus Christ roxy just needs to understand she isn't fucking winning this game and should just give me a shot lmao. like some votes she MIGHT have over me can easily be taken away by ciere being there, and I told her that. im really fighting for this like fuck man I want to get to ftc again

HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP!

I WON THE FINAL CHALLENGE! I'm so fucking ecstatic I'm gonna be in the freaking finale. This is the hardest part though trying to know who to vote.

I'm leaning heavily voting out Ci'ere due to what I believe his jury connections are, but also because I think my game stands out more when I'm with Roxy and Sam due to their games being... well basically the same.

They both, ultimately voted out the person who idoled them, they both tended to lie excessively, they both never won a challenge, and there are more similarities as I go on.

I love everyone in this final 4 though, and it's been so amazing playing with all of them. I just hope I can pull out a win, taking Roxy and Sam could be a mistake as their games were ballsy and if the jury buries any ill will they could decide to award one of them the win and view me as a goat.

So far me and Sam are both voting Ci'ere, but Roxy has been a bit dodgy, so it might go to a tie, which while I'm not a fan of Ci'ere proceeding since I think he'll give me a run for my money, I think Sam would be a lock vote for me so that's a benefit there.

I'm still thinking about the trial ahead because I know this game isn't over, it's the final stretch and I've begun a strong finish, and I need to make sure I deliver at FTC. It's my first one, and I would hate to blow it.

Dani: everyone more or less voted dani. Ciere caused chaos and had his name thrown about . One of drew h or t leaked to him. Probs drew h. Who led on dani? It started with john? He wanted ciere out I think. Dylan: this was kori's move but only on the surfave. I told kori to get drew t into the plan cause he originally complained about dyl been not rlly there but it sort of ended up with him wanting to protect dyl as a free agent. Me and Dylan were close but I still let myself cut him because I formed an alliance with emma and andrea and promised her id never betray her this game and I sorta wanted to take emma to the end but who didnt. Me and sam were contemplating things but he didnt make us flip or vote the way we did. Sam I think was already on that side tho so not rlly middle. Ciere voted emma?? Minority tryna get a revati out. John: apparently kori came up with john first but I wanted him out the previous vite to weaken the drews so theyd depend on me nn emma and andrea brought him up. There was a plan to couter it by going after andrea I think or mv it was emma but again I was with andrea and emma so I told rm I already voted john when I didnt to make a dumb excuse why I couldn't vote with em nn. Sam voted john along with the revatis ciere tagged along I recon still wanted a revsti out. Drew t. Apparently kori pushed for him and loris and andrea sorta messy if u ask me. This vote was me and ciere I recon. Although it was andrea vrs drew so I wanted to protect andrea again sigh but also we wanted to seperate sam and drew t. Kori voted andrea or drew t mb drew t. Andrea and sam did ciere. Sam got outplayed here I recon. Ciere voted drew t too but left the decision to me so? Emma. She played her idol on me. My one regret was not getting her to idol herself but I doubted ciere a bit too much and was too stressed from the final count down to think it over. We also didnt eexpect everyone to flip on emma on the revote. Same just tagged along and ciere's plans failed but ultimately they got emma out. Drew h: I wish here I told andrea of the probability of them voting her out so we coudve voted loris out then and there like a blindside. Sam just went along and ciere voted with his probable f2. Andrea. Loris and kori betrayed her here. Ciere and sam also. Loris: sam betrayed him badly to save me and ciere msnaged to lie his ass iff to get that idol played on sam. I had two ppl risk themselves to keep me. Probs cause theyI look down on my game and think they can beat me.

it is now an hour before we have to vote and i still have no clue who to vote.

but i think im leaning towards voting ciere at this point?

Sam loses the tiebreaker after a 2-2 vote and is the final member of our jury.

Jesus Day 39. Never thought I'd actually be sitting here.

There's so much buzzing around in my mind. But at this point there isn't any strategic words I can really say, the F3 is officially set, all GAMING per say is over. Now all there is left to do is rock out a fantastic speech for why I should win. (I hope I'm capable of that.)

This game has been such a mental and emotional roller-coaster and I'm just so happy to have been a part of it and to now be experiencing something so new.

Regardless of how this ends, I know that I'm happy with how this turns out, and I definitely learned a lot in this game that I'll carry into future ORGs that I play. I hope I surprised some people, I'm proud of how I played since it carried me here.

Gonna turn in for the night, probably confess for the last time in the morning. <3

Moments before FTC.

I've got my speech ready I think. I'm hopeful anyway. Crazy to think this will be my last confessional of the season.

I wanna thank the hosts for giving me such a great experience, I'm so happy this game happened to me the way that it did. I hope I win but even if I dont I still think I accomplished much, and I'm proud of how I did.

Day 39, this is Kori, signing off.

youtube

Last minute confessional because I haven't made one yet: I can't believe I made it to the end & I'm just glad I got to share my game at final tribal council. Do I think I played the best? No. I did what I could with what I was given & I did the mf'ing shiz. I fought for my Survivor life & made fire which I think is a pretty rad way to get here. I took out the wild straight white male who I think played a smashing game. I played how I wanted to & I had so much fun while doing so. Whether I win or lose, I'm proud of what I accomplished here & Elara is definitely not gonna be a game I'll forget. Thank you hosts for a bomb experience & for putting together a well run game~ WOOP WOOP

Well, it's the end now, I'll know soon if I won or if I'm runner up or 3rd.

I had an amazing time, and I'm sure reading back is sure to be interesting.

To anyone who's read my stuff, it may seem a little inconsistent or contradictory at times, it's usually due to a changed mindset or decision I make and forget to confess about, and for that I apologize to the viewers.

This has been an incredible experience I'm not gonna forget, and I'm glad to have gone through it with so many.

I just hope I get a single vote. xD

Kori wins Celestial: Elara in a 4-3-2 vote! Ci’ere came in 2nd and Roxy finished in 3rd.

#episode #flyinghigh

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cotncandyboifics · 4 years ago

Text

1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 7

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 2,142

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

Chapter CW: food, implied starts of anxiety attacks, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: whenever I reread this chapter I'm not sure whether the point of it is clear to the reader or not... but I'm not sure how to rewrite/fix it lol

...

Finally, it was Friday. Between classes, Virgil was pacing quickly down the hall when he noticed Logan exchanging things from his locker. He also saw Roman approaching the tall boy, adorning a mischievous smile. Virgil decided to slip out of sight behind the bustle of the hallway to observe their interaction, staying hidden near the walls.

Roman stood directly behind Logan and tapped him on the shoulder. Logan turned fully around, and upon seeing Roman, he opened his mouth to speak. He was quickly was interrupted, however, as Roman put his hand against the locker at Logan's side, and traced his other hand down Logan's button-up-covered chest. Logan was pinned against his open locker. Virgil couldn't make out the things Roman was saying to him, but Logan looked blatantly... caught off guard, to say the least. His pearly white cheeks were dusted pink. After a few moments, he pushed Roman aside and made to leave, but Roman grabbed him by the tie and pulled him back. They'd switched positions, Logan having put his pale bony arm out to stop himself from falling. Roman was still pulling his tie, smirking and looking into his eyes deviously. Virgil read Roman's lips and thought he saw "-if you're into that." Logan was clearly getting frustrated and forced his tie away, collecting his book bag from the floor and shooing Roman so that he could close his locker. Virgil saw Logan speak, and made out something like "I'll be late for class."

What a couple they made. Virgil felt something heavy growing in the pit of his stomach. Roman had left to go to his class as well, and the halls were becoming more and more empty as students filed into various classrooms. Finally the bell rang, and Virgil felt like he couldn't move to save his life. He started scratching his wrist and felt his breathing become uneven. No, not here, not now. He forced himself to breathe normally and made his way to his next class.

...

Later that day, Patton was lying on Virgil's bed, throwing a bouncy ball up and catching it in a slow rhythm. Virgil was seated at his desk right beside Patton, vaguely attempting to finish his French homework. Not like it'd be due until Monday anyway.

Patton and Virgil had been good friends from a young age, and usually hung out like this around twice a week. Every now and then they'd do something special, but usually it was just being together and talking.

Virgil knew a lot about Patton, more than most people do. He knew about his best friend's current... sticky home situation, and so he never questioned it when Patton came up to him later in the school day with a sorrowful glint in his eyes, asking if they could go back to Virgil's house that evening.

"Do you think they had a nice date yesterday?" Patton said after a minute or two of calm silence. Virgil looked over at him. He'd stopped throwing the ball, and was now inspecting its strange colorful surface, scratching at little flakes of plastic that hung off its seams. Virgil thought to himself how it was so strange that these types of bouncy balls always seemed to practically glow when exposed to light, even though they had no sparkles or shiny qualities about them.

"I guess I don't know. Roman might have ruined it with his overconfidence and ridiculous antics," Virgil finally replied, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. "Especially if he did something like take them to some 5-star family-owned Italian restaurant where you get kicked out unless you're wearing a waistcoat and you have to make a reservation a year in advance," he mused. Patton giggled a little.

"Yeah, that sounds like Mr. Prince," He offered a little quieter than he wanted to. Virgil eyed him with concern.

"You haven't really been thinking much of it, have you?" Virgil turned fully toward his bespectacled friend now, who was just staring blankly, clutching the bouncy ball to his chest. "I mean, I don't think it'll be much of a distraction to our project than Roman already is. And besides, I really doubt that Logan will go for a second round," Virgil dismissed the notion bitterly, and Patton wondered when Virgil had developed such a resentment against Roman.

"Well," Patton started, sitting up and pulling his legs into a criss-cross applesauce, "I'm surprised Logan wanted to in the first place. I don't think he has ever dated anyone, let alone someone so..."

"I know what you mean." Virgil got up to sit criss-cross applesauce with his friend on the bed. They looked at each other and giggled a little, remembering how they used to do this as little kids. They were just like brothers in a way.

Virgil noticed Patton pulling at his ring again, and knew something was up. "Hey," He said, taking Patton's hand. Patton looked up at him nervously from behind his big round glasses, his blonde curls hiding the top trims. "What's up?"

Patton made a noise that was something between a scoff and a sigh, looking away but not pulling away. "I just..." He thought for a long moment on how to begin what he wanted to say without saying what he didn't want to say... not yet, anyway. "I want Logan to be happy. He's a, good friend," A smile curled at the edges of his mouth. "I don't think Roman makes him... unhappy, per se. I think they could be really," Patton pulled his hand back and started fidgeting with his ring again, "close... but I don't know if, them being together will make Logan happy. W-will make either of them happy." He looked up at Virgil then, who was stoic. "I-I mean, i know it isn't really any of my business to worry about. I know I don't really know... anything about their date or..."

Virgil gave a somber smile. "I know what you mean. I feel it too. I mean, they don't seem to... clash correctly," Virgil meshed his fingers together as a visual metaphor. "They don't fit quite right into a relationship box together. And i don't think Roman is enamored with him in the way he says he is, or acts like he is." That bitter tone resurfaced in Virgil's voice again, and Patton took note of it.

He looked up, curls bouncing slightly. "What do you mean by that?" Virgil returned his eye contact, and Patton looked like he was hiding some emotion. Maybe... anger?

"Well..." Virgil thought about what he'd said. Specifically a certain song and a certain moment that had given him the notion that, as much as Roman acted confident, when he was truly falling for someone... he might act quite the opposite. Virgil felt his cheeks heat up, and Patton's expression changed.

"Is there something you know that i don't?" Patton pressed. Not maliciously, but curiosity dripped from his voice. Virgil brought his fingertips to his cheeks and wondered how they'd gotten so hot so quickly.

"Well, I, I just..." Virgil stuttered for a long moment. "I suppose it seems like, i don't know, like, maybe if Roman were really, um, that is to say, maybe, he would be, if he were really, you know, into someone, like that, like, um," He was talking with his hands too much, and Patton noticed his breathing becoming more like heaving. He took Virgil's frantic hands.

"Hey, take a sec," Patton's voice was coated in caramel. Virgil finally made eye contact again. "Breathe, bud," Patton said even calmer and sweeter this time. Virgil's attention suddenly switched to his breathing patterns, which he now noticed were getting rather erratic. He took a moment to reconcile himself.

"Sorry, I went off on a bit of a tangent there... but, as i was saying, or, trying to say," Virgil continued to stumble his way to his point, but with more purpose this time, "... Roman, strikes me as the type, to seem... like he wouldn't act the way he does with Logan if he were in love with him, maybe," He was fiddling with his own fingers now. "but i have a feeling that he might be... a bit of a softie. I mean, what i mean is, he... If he really likes someone I think he wouldn't be able to be his... y'know... confident, jock, witty-remark-shooting self. If that, makes any sense."

"huh," Patton said after a moment of consideration. "Well that's possible. I don't really know honestly. I haven't spent a lot of time with the guy, and whenever i do he always seems to be that same confident person. Well, except with you, sometimes."

"Huh? Me? What?" Virgil was blatantly alarmed. Patton hadn't meant to cause this alarm, so he replied gently.

"Oh, no no kiddo, i just mean like... Y'know how you two are always sorta, bickering or debating or poking fun at each other?" Virgil nodded. "Well, I've just noticed, that sometimes when you make certain comments or whatnot, he sort of... Loses himself. His persona. It kind of falls away, and he seems sort of lost for words." Virgil looked even more alarmed than before. "I-I don't mean that that's necessarily because of you, I just, it's just the only time i have seen him react in that way and... I don't know. It probably happens with him all the time when I'm not around. Or whatever. I don't know. I'm sorry." Patton spoke so quickly that Virgil hardly heard each word. He was just trying to calm himself. Was it so obvious?

"Well." Was all he could muster in reply.

"Anyhow, I think I agree, at least that something seems a little off... I hope it is anyw-" Virgil trained his eyes on Patton. "I mean- I, uh, I-I don't know where that came from! I don't hope, that- I don't hope anything bad for either of them! I didn't- I didn't think, I just-"

"You just have a crush on Logan?" Virgil was still staring at Patton, mischief peeking around the edges of his pupils.

"Wuh-- What!!!" Patton couldn't say anything else; he just grabbed the nearest pillow and shoved his face into it. Virgil heard an indignant "no I don't" from the pillow as he put his hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"Patton, buddy. It's okay." Virgil just awkwardly patted the shoulder of Patton's balled up form.

"Does everyone know!?" He looked up finally, his nose running slightly. He wasn't crying, but even so, sometimes when he got emotional or embarrassed his cheeks turned deep rosy and his nose started running. Just another little quirk about him that Virgil always kept close to his heart.

"Well, it is plain as day," Virgil started while Patton's eyes seemed so somehow grow larger, "But Logan and Roman have no clue, as far as I can tell. Logan wouldn't know you liked him unless... well, unless you asked him on a date apparently," Virgil chuckled slightly, remembering the bizarre interaction between Roman and Logan on Monday. "And Roman is always too busy bothering Logan to pay attention to what you're doing," Virgil propped his chin up on one of his hands. "But objectively, it is pretty obvious."

Patton was deflated, blonde curls doing their best to bashfully cover his eyes now. He put his face back into the pillow on his lap. Virgil heard a muffled "I'm sorry."

"What? Why are you sorry?" Virgil rubbed his back now.

"I don't know. I'm sorry to Logan mostly. And to myself." His shrunken form shook slightly. Virgil hoped he wouldn't start crying.

"Ohhhh come on," Virgil awkwardly attempted to comfort him. "No one knows, and besides, it's no big deal. You'll be alright. Most likely, nothing will happen, and you can just eventually move on with your life. And heck, maybe you'll get your chance with him."

Patton's curls shook again as he looked up, eyes the size of the moon. "You really think so????" He asked in earnest. clear snot streams ran down from his nostrils and over his lips now, and his whole face was like a tomato. Virgil laughed airily.

"...It's always possible," he said almost under his breath. He wondered if he was reassuring himself or Patton more.

They sat in silence for a short moment, Virgil shaking his slender fingers through his vibrant purple bangs. I should re-dye my hair soon. The roots are starting to show.

"Wanna get some ice cream?" Virgil asked eventually. Patton's eyes lit up.

"Yeah! Did your mom get Grasshopper Pie again??? I love that stuff so much!" They got up off Virgil's bed together to head down the hall to the stairs.

"Actually, my mom tried making some herself this time," Virgil shut his bedroom door behind them.

"Ooh, really!?!?! I'm so excited to try it then!" Patton squealed, overjoyed as a small child would be. It was as if all of his troubles had dissipated like seeds in the wind. Another thing Virgil admired about Patton.

He hoped everything would be okay.

#ts virgil #virgil sanders #ts patton #patton sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #logan sanders #ts logan #high school AU #Thomas Sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #slow burn #prinxiety #logicality #logan x patton #roman x virgil

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cotncandyboifics · 4 years ago

Text

1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 8

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 2,407

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

Chapter CW: food, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: alternate title: Virgil's very subtle epiphany. also Patton has a gay panic moment lol

...

Slam.

Monday morning. Mr. Berry was slapping a small poster on each student's desk like a stamp, one-by-one and painfully slowly.

"This," he began, "Is the official welcome to the schoolyear; audition posters for the Fall Talent Show." His bloated belly hardly fit between the desk rows, and students made futile attempts to scoot away from him before they were bombarded by his tyrannical tummy. "As a retired thespian and a life long supporter of theatre and the arts," he continued, bringing his pile of posters to his chest in his passion, "I highly recommend you at least consider looking into auditions. Everyone has a passion, or at least a hobby, and the talent show is a perfect freelance opportunity to show off your skills."

Roman rolled his eyes too dramatically. This was upsetting him more than he thought it would, and his eyes shot daggers up at his large superior as he slammed the next poster onto Roman's desk.

"Auditions will be held next week, on the specified dates. The show itself will be two weeks later, I believe on Friday night. Be there, and I will award you some extra credit points. All you must do is present me with your ticket, which must have your name on it," he eyed a few mischievous students in the room, "With a stamp on it from the Talent Show admissions booth, on the following Monday." As soon as Mr. Berry had given a poster to Virgil and moved on, Virgil quietly crumpled it and shoved it into a random part of his backpack, proceeding to fold his arms on his desk and put his head down. This caught Roman's attention, and his subconscious latched onto formulating a teasing remark for after class as a distraction from his own feelings about the Talent Show.

After class, the usual place where Roman and Virgil were shortly alone and had a short interaction - most often consisting of some insufferable tease from Roman or occasionally a debate spurred by Virgil making a witty side comment - the two met once again. After their first class of the day was usually the only time they were both at their lockers at the same time, as it happened, and Virgil was always thankful that it was the only time. Since their assignment to the Biology project, however, Roman had taken to walking with Virgil from their English class to their lockers and beginning his bouts of banter prematurely.

"Not a fan of the infamous talent show, are we?" Roman paced quickly over to Virgil, who had just made it outside the classroom door as they'd been dismissed. Virgil huffed in defeat as his attempt to escape before Roman could catch him had been fruitless.

"It's ridiculous," Virgil didn't slow his pace for Roman, and began essentially speedwalking down the hall. Roman was slightly taller than him and was able to keep up, but still got a little out of breath doing it. "Hey everyone, come and show everyone in the school something you really enjoy so they can all collectively judge you and make you self conscious about your interests and - oh no! you don't wanna do it anymore because you feel horribly inadequate? shoooot. Sorry man, no one could have seen that coming. Oh well, better luck next year when you'll just ruin a different passion for yourself!" Virgil flailed his hands at the end of his mini-rant.

"How can you stay that sarcastic for that long consecutively? I'm honestly impressed," Roman said, huffing as they arrived at their lockers. Virgil's permanent frown seemed to somehow deepen. "Though, I guess I really can't argue, Count Woe-laf. I see your point. The pressures of an impromptu performance are... undeniable." Roman focused his attention on the padlock hanging from the latch of his locker, while Virgil looked to him with widened eyes.

"Really?" He didn't look away from Roman until he would look back.

"What?" Roman defended.

"It's just..." Virgil focused on his own padlock now, "You never agree with what I say. It always becomes a debate," he pulled his locker open lazily, pulling his backpack off his shoulders and putting it on backwards so that he could more easily exchange things. When Roman didn't reply, he continued, "like... I don't know. Why is it any different now?"

Roman was exchanging things as well, and didn't have an immediate answer. Well, he knew the answer (or in this case, answers), but it wasn't one he was even ready to admit to himself, let alone anyone else, and especially let alone Virgil. He just eventually shrugged.

This reaction only further alarmed Virgil. He opened his mouth to continue his flabbergasted interrogation, but the bell rang right at that moment. Roman slammed his locker shut suddenly.

"Well, that's our queue I suppose. See you tonight, Incredible Sulk." Roman elbowed Virgil in the shoulder a bit awkwardly and began skipping down the hall to his next class. That left a dumbfounded and nearly-panicking Virgil standing in front of his open locker in an almost completely empty hall.

He wished Roman would stop leaving him like that.

...

Roman had texted the Biology Project group chat that weekend, saying he had an important football practice on Monday that went until 5. they'd have to have their meet-up at Roman's a bit later in the evening. Logan simply waited it out by heading to the school library to get his other homework done, while Patton and Virgil shot the breeze, walking down random hallways of the school.

The two of them were grabbing a snack from a vending machine when Virgil checked his phone. It was 4:50. They got their respective snacks - Patton got a strawberry Pop tart and Virgil got a Sunny D - and made their way to the designated meeting place. It was a concrete bench at the front of the school. They expected to find Logan there, but he wasn't. The two of them simply sat on the cold bench and exchanged bits of each other's snacks, and continued talking until Virgil noticed someone approaching.

He figured it would be Logan, but this person was shorter and more filled out than Logan. He trained his eyes better and realized that it was Roman. Roman, who happened to have a towel around his neck and sopping-wet crimson curly hair unabashedly on display. A drip of water rolled down his cheek and along his jawline, and Virgil realized he was staring. Roman finally got within conversation distance.

"Like what you see, Charlie Frown?" He teased. Patton looked to Virgil, noticing his awe, and giggled.

"Hah, in your dreams, Meta Knight," Virgil deflected half-heartedly, still finding it hard to pull his eyes away from Roman's unfortunate perfection. It was only worse that Roman knew just how attractive he was.

"Why's your hair all wet, silly?" Patton asked, standing energetically to greet him.

"We rinse off after practice. I considered leaving my shirt off so i could just get a clean one when i got home, but i knew that might be a bit too much to handle for some of us," Roman elbow-nudged Patton, who just giggled again and pushed his glasses up. Virgil knew that was extremely forced, especially after their conversation on Friday.

"Well," Roman checked his wristwatch, "Where would my nerdy Wolverine happen to be? It's ten past, and if there's anything Logan certainly is, it's punctual."

"Quite right you are," a stern voice came from behind them, to reveal Logan's lengthy form approaching casually. "My apologies for my tardiness. I got quite engaged in a particular Physics problem." Roman turned to him smiling, and pecked him on the cheek. Virgil didn't need to look at Patton to feel his friend's heart sink through the floor.

"Shall we then?" Roman turned to lead the way on the five-block journey to his house.

...

"hmm, that reminds me," Roman said from his sprawled position on his bed, "what are all your sexualities?"

That sure caught everyone's attention. The clock beside Roman's bed read 6:28 PM. Logan was studying their plants and taking notes, Patton had been cooing quietly to Roman's pet turtle, and Virgil was sitting in Roman's spinning desk chair scrolling on his phone. They all looked at Roman at once, and then at each other.

"Heh," Roman sat up, "My apologies for blurting such an intrusive question, I was just looking up at my-" he gestured toward his ceiling- "glorious flag, and it made me wonder. No man must answer that which he does not desire to." Roman was blatantly referring to the Bisexual flag that was pinned to the ceiling above his bed. They all looked at it, and back at him. "I suppose it's obvious now, but yes, I am undeniably bisexual," He faux bowed.

The silence wasn't doing anyone good, so Patton broke it before it got too much more awkward. "I, I'm gay," he said sheepishly, continuing to observe the turtle. Virgil gave him a soft smile, and decided to offer himself up next.

"I'm pan," he seemed to recoil further into his hoodie, if that were even possible. Logan turned to the other three, adjusting his necktie.

"I'm not usually one to admit this to many people, but since you have all been so transparent and calm about such personal information," He started, "I am comfortable telling you that I am Asexual."

No one regarded this with much surprise, except for Roman. "Oh really?" He said, seemingly surprised and embarrassed. Virgil scoff-laughed at him.

"What, upset you can't make your sexual fantasies a reality?" Virgil teased. Roman gasped, bringing a hand to his chest in an offended gesture.

"Excuse me!" He exclaimed, a look of disgust contorting his face.

Before a classic Roman-Virgil debate could ensue, Patton decided to share his thoughts.

"Well, I, I mean, I'm not ace but I, I guess sex isn't really so important to me," he was fiddling with his ring yet again.

"W-well, it should never be the centerpiece of any relationship!" Roman declared. They all looked at him skeptically. "what? I mean, personally, I prefer grand gestures." As he spoke, he stood and walked to Logan. "In my opinion," he produced a pristine bouquet of deep red roses that none of the others had noticed anywhere in the room before, "they are the key to any person's heart."

Logan seemed tame, Patton thought. As if he were performing. If he were being his normal self, he would have been very confused by where Roman had hidden the bouquet, and how it looked so perfect after being concealed. Instead, he just took it with a very gentle sweet smile, and thanked him quietly. Instead of Logan, Patton was now the one confused.

Virgil's face was red, and his neck a blotchy pink; thankfully he was mostly hidden under his purple bangs and hood. He huffed and excused himself to use the restroom. Patton noticed this time, and grabbed his arm before he made it out of the room.

"You okay?" he whispered gently to Virgil. Virgil just looked at him, mustered a small smile and a nod. Patton knew exactly what that meant. Virgil was okay, he just needed a moment. He returned the smile, and released his gentle paternal grip on Virgil's arm, allowing him to leave.

There was the sound of someone calling Roman's name from another part of the house, and Roman excused himself, rushing off to find its source.

Logan slipped his phone into the pocket of his navy slacks. "Well, I must be going now," He began. Instead of reaching to gather his things, he trained his acute attention directly on Patton, who was startled by the sudden focus on him. "Patton, do you have a ride home today?"

"I, uh, well," He tried blurting out an excuse but none came to his mind. "No, not exactly..."

Logan was slowly approaching, and Patton tried to back up but hit the terrarium containing Roman's turtle after just one small step. "Would you like a ride? My parents would be more than happy to assist in your safe transport home."

"Well, well I really don't want to intrude, or-" He stopped dead when Logan placed a slender hand gently on his shoulder.

"I insist. It's no intrusion or burden to them. They appreciate being able to help others when they can, especially people whose company I enjoy." Logan didn't feel as though he was figuratively lying through his teeth, but he knew that his parents didn't exactly feel that way. The nature of the situation was more that they took kindly to those that Logan worked well with on academically related subjects, such as people from his study group or the like.

Patton caught himself before letting the thought "you enjoy my company?" escape his lips. He just smiled. He knew there was no way he could get himself to deny Logan's offer when his heart was taking the reins.

"I would.. really appreciate, a ride home, yeah," He said quietly. Logan was just looking into his eyes with a tenderness Patton hadn't seen before. He pushed away any thoughts that Logan may have looked at Roman the exact same way during their date. He hoped he hadn't, and cursed himself for hoping it.

"Wonderful," Logan pulled himself out of their shared momentary trance. "I will let them know. I'm sure they will find it a pleasure to become acquainted with you. They should be here in less than five minutes, so I suggest gathering your belongings." Logan's thumbs padded across is illuminated phone screen as he spoke, until he once again slid it into his pocket and began collecting his things along with Patton.

Virgil entered once again, hood off and face slightly red and wet. it was clear that he hadn't been crying due to the sporadic nature of the droplets of water across his face; it looked more like he'd just haphazardly washed his face in the sink and hadn't bothered to wipe the remnants away. Patton smiled at him brightly.

"Ah, Virgil," Logan addressed as he slung his bag over his shoulder, "It was pleasant to see you again. We are on our way out now. Are you ready, Patton?" He looked to Patton, who also slung his bag over his shoulder.

"Yep! Logan's giving me a ride," Patton blatantly could barely contain his excitement in his ever-growing grin, so Virgil only returned it with a small thumbs up.

"Alright, ill see you guys in class tomorrow," He hugged Patton tightly, and half-heartedly saluted to Logan without making eye contact. Logan simply nodded to him, and the two left shortly, leaving Virgil alone in Roman's room.

#ts virgil #virgil sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #ts patton #patton sanders #ts logan #logan sanders #prinxiety #logicality #logan x patton #roman x virgil #slow burn #high school au #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides #thomas sanders

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