#<- first it used to show when I got new messages && asks. then it updated to where shows up

[robo-bud]

up arrow emoji. literally hate that stupid red dot.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Good Omens graphic novel update: May 2024

Happy 34th birthday to Good Omens - published in May 1990. We don't need any extra reasons to celebrate Aziraphale and Crowley, but we're always happy to find some.

Admin

Thank you to everyone who has completed the PledgeManager so far; as mentioned, this will be open through 2024 into early 2025 to complete. A few key queries that have arisen in the past month:

I ordered via Kickstarter, but when I go onto PledgeManager, it is setting me to Human Tier and/or asking me to pay again. Please check the email that you are using on PledgeManager. The email to access PledgeManager must be the same as the one you used on Kickstarter for the system to connect your account to the order; if your email is not showing a prior order, please try your other emails, or drop us a message from the account you pledged on (and are, presumably, reading this from!) and we can confirm the email address linked to your pledge.  

I have been charged twice for shipping. What do I do? We have raised this with PledgeManager, and they say it is a known issue that can occur via Stripe, but it is easily fixed. Please contact support@pledgemanager.com with information on your order, and note that your shipping has been charged twice, and their system can verify this and process the refund swiftly and easily.  

I need to change my address. How do I do that? We have left the option to update your shipping address open on PledgeManager and will do so for as long as possible. Per PledgeManager, here is a step-by-step on how to change your address: Return to your survey (which you can also do by visiting my.pledgemanager.com and using the ‘Forgotten Password’ option if needed) and scroll down on the receipt page. There, you will see the below button. After clicking that, you will be taken to the first page of the survey and will just need to click through to the shipping page. On the shipping page, you can use the ‘Create New Address’ button to enter their updated address. 

If you have any further issues or queries, visit the central FAQ page as your first port of call.

Good Omens items...

The desk at Good Omens HQ is slowly filling up with prototypes, the latest of which appears to be as popular as Aziraphale and Crowley, and for good reason. We are, of course, talking about the ducks. Here's an early version of the duck mug:

We've got some early prototype designs of the trading cards too. Illustrator Steve Gregson has begun work on the base card deck illustrations, to be unveiled in future, and designs for some of the variants are fully underway. Here are some early samples of graphic novel variant cards from Colleen Doran, and Rachael Stott's Crowley:

The base packs (Hellhound+) currently include 80 cards, and have caused quite heated games with those who have test-played it so far on their attempts to thwart (or indeed cause) the apocalypse. Hellhound+ backers will also get a booster pack alongside the main game. Rarities for sharing at random in these orders are shaping up nicely too. Hoping to share some of the base pack design imminently.

If you've been wondering what your other alternative cover choice is, alongside Rachael Stott's (Serpent+), then wonder no more: here is Frank Quitely's take on Aziraphale and Crowley, ready to shine on your shelves.

Update from Colleen

We often end with an update from Colleen, whether that's her art, or her shots from her studio. However, we thought it was about time we invite Colleen to update you herself, so we are handing the rest of this month's over to your ineffable artist for a glimpse inside the process of making Good Omens. Enjoy.

---

As you may imagine, I’m having a wonderful time working on the Good Omens graphic novel. The Dunmanifestin team asked me to pop in and give you a look at my process.

The task of adapting a beloved novel into graphic novel format is a complex, wonderful sort of pressure cooker. Even without the well-publicized complications I got smacked with over the last year, it promised to be an intense, time-consuming project.

The graphic novel is about the book and not the show. Getting Michael Sheen and David Tennant out of my head was quite a task. I’ve seen it dozens of times and I adore it, but I to had devote a lot of time to re-reading the novel and listening to the audiobook to clear my head of them. 

The few times I allowed myself to watch the show again screwed me up a bit. So, I won’t watch it again until I am completely finished with every drawing. Maybe a view-a-thon will be my reward for finishing the book. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself. There’s still a lot to do, so let me show you it.

Before we knew the Kickstarter fundraiser would do well, the graphic novel was to clock in at 164 pages. After the good news of the Kickstarter success, I got permission to take the story to 200 pages. That meant a major rewrite and redraw on some dozens of thumbnails and layouts.

And you guys are getting a much longer book.

Not complaining one bit. I was so happy to get more space to give breathing room to the ending.

Anyway, here's a look at my workspace.

To the left is my laptop computer with the script. The laptop is connected to my graphics computer via ethernet, and all my reference is on the main system, from which I share files.

On my older projects, I dutifully printed out every bit of reference. I think this is the first project where I’ve done all reference and organizing on my MAC.

As you can see, I draw comics the old-fashioned way – by hand – and there is my script on the computer.

But I do all the coloring on this project on the MAC. I know some people hate Photoshop, but even if I wanted to switch, I don’t have the time to dive into a new system.

That entire box with all the narrow drawers in it you see there contain Good Omens pages in varying degrees of completion. Finished pages are at the bottom with layouts, pencils, and partial inks toward the top. The middle drawer contains templates, French curves, and a ruler.

The box isn’t fancy art studio equipment. It’s just a Childcraft brand puzzle storage rack. I realized a long time ago the heavy wooden bookcases, puzzle racks, and construction paper storage made for children’s classrooms made great modular storage for professional art spaces. It’s solid as a rock, heavy so little children can’t tip it, and I can move it and rearrange my space however I like.

The final art is drawn on 11”X14” Strathmore 500 acid free Bristol.

I do all my prelims as tiny “thumbnail” sketches, some in ink, some in very loose pencil. I keep them organized in this Levenger notebook. The thumbnail paper is both Canson brand, and Blue Line Pro, and both are acid free. Blue Line Pro is good for ink, but Canson is better for pencil because it has more tooth. I usually use Canson.

Using the Levenger hole puncher, I perforate my pages and keep them organized in a Levenger Circa system. It’s pricey, but I love it. There are other brands far less expensive, however.

The ruler shows how tiny the thumbnails are.

If the storytelling is clear at this small size, then it will be clear in the final.

I redo quite a bit as I go along, as you can see from the sequence below.

From thumbnail:

To pencils:

Since I did multiple rewrites, adding a large section at the end and popping in earlier scenes I originally had to skip, this meant redoing almost all the page numbers about 4 times.

Nearly went barmy.

I use the construction method of drawing, as you see. This is an old-school technique. Some people seem to assume that artists always use computers and tracing for their drawings, but most cartoonists of my generation work extemporaneously. There’s quite a bit of noodling around and searching in the sketches. Using too much reference often results in stiff, dead work.

In comics, it’s very important to make sure you’ve considered word balloon placement when designing a page. The script for Good Omens is more copy-heavy than most modern comic book scripts because I want to preserve as much of the clever original language as I can.

Here I scramble about working out the word balloon space allowance.

Here’s a deeper look at the process for page 2 from thumbnails to final color.

Now here is where things get a little weird. What you’re about to see is a process called flatting.

If you color a comic without first flatting the art, you are consigning yourself to many extra hours of labor and frustration.

Flatting is a way to tell the computer to select areas inside the black lines so that whenever you click on that particular color, you can paint inside that area perfectly. Since the computer only understands 1 and 2 - or on and off - when you tell that computer to stick to that area, that is what it will do.

There are computer programs that you can use to create your flats. I use Multi-Fill. The results are uniquely ugly, but they get the job done. Here is what that looks like.

Absolutely hideous.

But pretty much all I have to do from this point on is click each block of color and change it to whatever I like. The result is this:

I also experimented with selecting areas of the line work as color holds, but I’m getting into more complicated color technique than we may have time for at this point. But from here, I can start painting.

And the painting stage looks like this.

Since I wasn’t entirely sure exactly how I wanted to approach this color style, I took screen shots of some of the changes I made as I went along. In the shot at the left, I’ve given Aziraphale’s heavenly self a golden glow by using a color hold on the line. But I found it needed more contrast to make his figure pop, so I darkened it in the next shot.

I use the computer to create the initial flats, but I either do the final flats myself, or I have help from Julmae Kristoff and/or Dee Cunniffe.

The flats are (usually) not intended to be part of the final work. They are a technical tool.

For example, here are the original, computer-generated flats for one scene in Good Omens.

And here are the secondary flats by Julmae Kristoff.

And here is my final color work.

Since I’m running behind on the book, I’ve brought in Dee Cunniffe to do some extra color work. He is a wonderful colorist, as well as an excellent flatter. I’m not sure to what extent I’ll be handing pages to Dee at this point, because I’m very controlling, and I want to make absolutely certain there are no stylistic anomalies in the art, and I want all the Crowley and Aziraphale pages for myself, is that too much to ask?

I use Faber Castell Pitt Artist pens for my inking. I sometimes use an old-fashioned crowquill as well, but Faber Castells are easier to control, and the ink uses real pigment instead of dye like many markers. All of my originals are created with longevity in mind: acid-free and lightfast. I want the drawings to be fade-proof.

And that is a quick tour of the work so far.

A thousand thanks to Neil Gaiman and the Dunmanifestin team for their incredible kindness and patience, and that goes double for all Good Omens supporters out there. Your indulgence is appreciated more than I can adequately express. I am truly sorry to have been the cause of the delay in the book, but I can only make it up to you by doing my very best.

And that is what I am doing.

BTW, many years ago, I found a little yellow duckling who was getting beaten up by the other ducks, so I saved him and took him to my home to live until my parents adopted him, since they had a nice yard and a pond, and I didn’t.

He had a birth defect and could not fly, which is probably why the other ducks were pecking at him.

He got to stay in the family house, and eat goldfish crackers, and swim in the tub. Eventually they built him his own house. We called it the Duck Majal.

He lived for ten years.

I named him Fred because I’d been watching Breakfast at Tiffany’s when I heard him quacking for help that day we met, and Holly Golightly’s brother was named Fred.

So, here’s to you Fred.

Until next time.

[perfectlyoongi]

OLDER-BROTHER!YOONGI who has been tying your shoelaces since you were little. Yoongi still had that image in his mind of you crying in the rain because you tripped over your shoes and got all wet. since that day, Yoongi has always made a point of tying your shoes before leaving the house. and now, even though you were adults with separate lives, Yoongi couldn’t control his habit whenever you slept at each other’s houses. “wait, you still need to tie the laces. you can fall, you know that. nevermind, i don’t mind bending down. it’s not like this is my first time.”

OLDER-BROTHER!YOONGI who still intimidates any suitor of yours. when you were just 5 years old, Yoongi remembered how that boy who bothered you so much started running away when he saw Yoongi picking you up from school. since then, Yoongi has made it his personal mission to fend off any and all suitors you might have. he was your older brother. somehow, he always looked out for you. and Yoongi guaranteed that he would continue to take care of you, no matter how old you were, no matter how many suitors you had. if they really wanted you, they could put up with an intimidating Yoongi for a few minutes. “oh? are you really sure you want to bring your new friend to lunch? well, if it’s just a friend, i’m okay with it. but if it’s something else…”

OLDER-BROTHER!YOONGI who still cooks lunch for you whenever you need. if you asked Yoongi, he would say he only learned how to cook so he could make your favorite dishes. during school, Yoongi always woke up early to cook for you, making a point of giving you something tasty and attractive — it was already his habit. so when you spent the night at his house or when you couldn’t waste time making lunch, Yoongi would show up at your work or doorstep with a small lunch box filled with your favorite lunch. after so many years, he still knew you. “your message was full of typos. i knew right away that you were late, that’s why i cooked this to you. it’s your favorite, i hope you like it. oh, and i also brought you a piece of fruit. enjoy, minion.”

OLDER-BROTHER!YOONGI who picks you up from work or school when it’s raining. every month, Yoongi had your schedule updated and posted on the wall of his studio, and when you were still busy and the rain became more and more intense, Yoongi would put everything on hold to pick you up. whether you worked next to him or studied on the other end of town, Yoongi always found the quickest route to you, to make sure you didn’t get caught in the rain or risk getting sick. “remind me how many umbrellas i’ve given you, and how many you’ve used. just to refresh my memory. it’s just that it’s becoming really old that i have to come and get you every time it rains.”

OLDER-BROTHER!YOONGI who offers you something whenever he is with you. Yoongi was never good with words. and Yoongi was shy in his actions. but what Yoongi always did to show you that he liked you was something as simple as giving you a gift. a new book, your favorite ice cream, even a four-leaf clover he saw on the way home — no matter what. ever since you were little, Yoongi got used to giving you little souvenirs to calm your heart and this act seemed to never die, no matter how much time passed. he just wanted you to know how much he truly loved you. “there’s an origami stall back there. a lady is teaching children how to make various animals and her husband was selling some and i thought you would like this crane.”

OLDER-BROTHER!YOONGI who is always willing to give you advice, or receive it. it was three in the morning and you had come home after a date and didn’t know if they were right for you? Yoongi was already accepting your call without realizing it. you just received two equally good job offers and don’t know which one to choose? Yoongi was already ready with a list of pros and cons. was Yoongi unsure of his new project? you were already inside his studio listening to his music. Yoongi didn’t know if he could hold on a little longer? you were already by his side reassuring him that he was loved. you or him, it didn’t matter. both of you gave and received in that mutual relationship of complicity. only Yoongi knew what was best for you. only you knew what was best for Yoongi. and that was enough. “i’m going for an interview now but as soon as i leave i’ll call you. it’s not supposed to take long, so you can think about what you really want to say and i’ll help you later. if you want, i can even write the message for you. i have to go. don’t make any stupid decisions before i get back!”

OLDER-BROTHER!YOONGI who looks at you with eyes full of pride just because you are you. watching you from afar only squeezed Yoongi’s heart. yesterday you were still a small child and today you were already signing the contract for your first job. time flew between your childhood and your adulthood, and all this time, Yoongi was watching you. you were such a pure, innocent child and managed to transform into this responsible, mature adult — only Yoongi knew how many heartaches it took to make you so grown up. “it seems like yesterday that i gave you a piggyback because you had hurt your knee on the slide. and now i’m inside your first apartment that you bought with your first job. you’re growing up too fast and i don’t like it. stop. stop right now.”

[obsessivestar]

'What If It's All A RomCom?' - a Ted Nivison x Reader.

{{-Story Description: You're a youtuber with a fairly decent following deciding to help your good friend Tanner with a minor film project, with you set as the leading lady. When the actor for the male lead is a no show, Ted takes up the role himself. One problem: This short film's a Rom Com, and you just met the guy.-}}

//18+, Def gonna be some smut. Reader is implied to be afab, under 5'5 and has specifically named friends, all who have no real connection to Ted.

This story will be in multiple chapters. Also gonna post this on Wattpad and Ao3 (when I figure them out LMAO) under the same username: ObsessiveStarla. Hope you enjoy :^)

Also idk how to do all the fancy Tumblr border stuff so sorry if it's all messy :^(((//

Word count: 2.3k

Chapter 1: No Show, No Movie.

I'm keeping my eye on the road, occasionally glancing at the GPS to make sure I can guide my buddy Tanner as he drives. We had quite an early morning to get to L.A., having been on the road for the last 2 hours to get to this airbnb we'll be staying at. Tanner's nearing the end of film school, so he's getting all his classmates and anyone else that's available and interested to help him with his big final project: A legit short film, filmed, written and directed by him. Having some experience with being on camera myself, he elected to make me part of the main cast. I don't mind at all, if it'll help him out. Even if it's a romantic comedy. I'll kiss some dude, get him that 100%. I'm excited for this.

"Has Conner messaged me at all?" Tanner asks, breaking the last 20 minutes of silence. I quit out of my daydream to check Tanner's messages. Other members of the crew have updated them on their location, including a name I don't recognize, but Conner hasn't responded at all.

"Nope. Mostly everyone else is nearly there though." I responded, lightly shrugging my shoulders. A humorous but knowing smirk creeps along the edges of my lips. "Think he slept in?" "I fucking hope not." Tanner huffs, his tone suggesting he's half-joking. "He is literally /the/ male lead. He's like one of the people I need there the most today."

I put the GPS back up on the screen and lay back against the passenger seat, slightly raising a brow to myself. What would happen if he's late, or doesn't show up at all? Could we even get a replacement in time? We only booked this place for the next couple weeks.

As we get off the highway and get even closer to our destination, I see a notification pop up on Tanner's phone, it's the name I don't recognize. Ted. He's not in our friend group and I don't recall Tanner mentioning him from class.

"Is Ted a new guy?" I ask, turning my head to Tanner. "Oh, no, he's like...a friend of a friend." Tanner pauses before reiterating "He's going to be the editor. He's a youtuber, like you; he went to film school as well."

"Oh. He's like the only name I didn't recognize."

"Yeah, he's a cool guy, no worries, he'll probably be there with me to help with the, yknow, directing too."

There's room for a response, but I don't continue the conversation. We don't have a lot of money to put into this, so that airBnb is also where we'll be filming everything. Most of the film crew and extra actors got their own accommodations elsewhere, but some of us will be staying /at that/ location itself. Wonder if that includes the editor? It'd be weird to share a house with a dude I didn't know, but if Tanner trusts him, I will as well. "I know where to go from here, let everyone know we'll be there soon."

I take Tanner's phone and let everyone know we're close by, including Ted, before setting the phone aside. Tanner pulls into what I thought was a street at first, only to notice its the driveway of the airbnb. Wild how we can't afford multiple sets and hotels, but can afford this villa-like estate for nearly a month. Hey, whatever works, right?

Tanner parks by the many other vehicles and grabs his phone before we both hop out. I can't help but look up at how tall the building is. It looks like one of those frat houses an influencer would own, like if you told me this was owned by fuckin' 'disney channel flow' Team 10, I would 100% believe you.

Tanner and I are greeted by most of the cast and crew as we approach the front door of the house, giving the appropriate hugs and handshakes as we head inside. That's when I spotted a tall man in a dark green sweater fixing up some professional looking cameras, dark hair slicked up to add to his already impressive height, with circular glasses to match the relaxed vibe I'm getting from him. To be fair, he only stands out so much to me because I don't recognize him. This must be Ted.

He looks up from his camera when he spots Tanner and I greeting the other crew members. I casually glance away to one of the pictures on the wall to avoid giving the impression I was staring. I have a habit of fixing my eyes onto people without realizing it.

"Traffic?" Is the first word I hear out of Ted's mouth, directed at Tanner. I don't really know what I was expecting to hear come out of this man, but it certainly wasn't a voice like that. It's strong, deep, almost fake sounding, like he's already playing a character, but no, that's just him.

"Dude, we passed by, like, 3 accidents" Tanner shakes his head slightly, putting his hands on his hips. "And Conner hasn't even gotten back to me, It's been an interesting morning."

As they have their conversation, my thoughts turn to a more curious nature as I contemplate what this guy actually does as a youtuber. If he went to film school as well, does he make long video essays? Commentary, like me?

"This is (Y/N), mine and Joe's friend." My thoughts are cut by the sound of my name, realizing Tanner was introducing me to Ted. Makes sense. We don't know each other. "She's gonna be the female lead."

"Ahhh okay, nice to finally meet you. I'm Ted." Ted personally greets me with a gentle handshake and a winning complexion. I return the handshake with a shy smile. "'Finally'?" I repeat to him, raising a slight brow.

"Yeah! Joe's told me about you, 'said you'd be shorter"

A sudden chuckle escapes me. Joe's my best friend and is part of the wardrobe team, of course he'd say something like that. "He's a dick.." I kid, shaking my head to myself. "You, on the other hand, are a fuckin' giant."

"Oh I know. I have to fuckin' duck down to get into any room upstairs. Tallhood ain't what its cut out to be" We both get a laugh out before Ted returns to setting up the cameras. I notice Tanner checking his phone again, visibly both anxious and frustrated.

"Man." Tanner speaks, seemingly thinking aloud. "Still nothing." "Isn't he the other lead?" Ted speaks as he moves to adjust the stand of one of the lights, glancing up through his round glasses. "I figured he'd be here first."

"He should've been here first." Tanner huffs, masking his clear frustration with a chuckle. "I-I don't know what I'm gonna do if he just doesn't show." "What would we have to do?" I tilt my head at Tanner, feeling a little anxious myself.

"I have no idea, honestly" Tanner responds, shaking his head. "At best, we'd have to find someone to take his place within the next, like, couple days. At worst, I'd have to cancel this whole thing."

I frown, trying to think of some helpful alternative in my head, but nothing comes up. I'd hate for everyone to have to go home, and getting the money back for the airbnb would be a hassle. We all pitched in for this place. As much as I've joked about it, it's pretty nice. 5 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, half the place is a giant living room and there's even more outside. I'd hate to leave without getting to sleep in one of those giant beds. All I can do is hope for the best, I guess.

About an hour passes. At this point, everyone except Conner has shown up on set and most of us that will be on camera are fitted and ready. We had already read through the entire script together over Discord prior to getting here, so all we need to do is just start filming.

I'm refreshing my memory with the script when I hear a notification ping from Tanner's phone. It takes him less than a second to pick it up and look at the message, pausing to read it. I see his expression go from relief to uneasy, his thumbs tapping on his phone's keyboard louder than usual as he responds before setting his phone down and taking a deep breath.

"Conner can't make it."

Silence fills the room for a moment as everyone looks up from their tasks. I approach Tanner, script still on hand.

"What? What does he mean he can't make it?" I asked, honestly shocked with what I was hearing. "So, yknow how he's just...not been responding since we left?" Tanner asks, looking understandably annoyed.

"Yeah?"

"Apparently he ate some bad food last night and has been throwing up since 4am. We left at 5."

The only thing I can do is run my fingers through my hair in frustration. Dude probably ordered bad chicken or something. Of course. "So our main dude, THE male leading role or whatever, has food poisoning." I say that as a statement, but I'm honestly just so confused, I don't want to believe it. "What do we do now? Could we hire someone else in time?" "Even if we could, we wouldn't have time to get the chemistry built up between you two." Tanner shrugs. "There'd be no way of knowing if it'll work out."

"I'll do it."

Tanner and I turn our heads to Ted, who's joined in on the conversation shortly after assembling the last light. My first instinct is to let out a sigh of relief, but I steel myself, trying to really process what he's offering.

"You? You wanna be the male lead?" Tanner points at Ted, rather surprised he'd offer. Ted seemed to laugh at the expression on Tanner's face "What's that fuckin' look for? You think I can't be romantic, Tanner?" "No--" Tanner cackles, putting his palms up defensively as he laughed. "That's not it! I just-- you haven't read the script, and, yknow..." Tanner pauses, shrugging his shoulders and tilting his head in my direction. "You two just met, you'll have to, yknow--"

"'Yknow? Yknow?' I KNOW, Tanner. I. know." Ted begins to mock Tanner in a friendly manner while pointing at himself, his strong voice easily overpowering Tanner's timid tone. "I've been doin' this since you were in little baby diapers, alright? I can read the script, I can kiss the pretty lady, I got this!"

I suddenly feel a whole lot warmer, resisting the urge to put a hand to my cheek. I mean, I have blush on already, but now I'm definitely blushing. I'll have to kiss this guy?

I mean.

That ain't a bad thing.

That's a nice lookin' dude. I'd be blind not to see it.

But I did just meet him.

"I mean...." Tanner seems to be at a loss for words, glancing in my direction once more. I realize I've been one of the main talking pieces of this conversation, yet I haven't spoken a word. "Ah--I.." I stammer out what was meant to be a coherent response, realizing I'm a bit more sheepish about this than I thought I'd be. He called me pretty. I...don't know what to do with that. I can handle a compliment, sure, but this was...

"Hey, sorry, I don't wanna step over any lines..." Ted's smile faded after my lack of a response, resting his hands behind his back. "Oh no! I-I wouldn't mind it at all." I finally managed to speak up. I swear, I felt like a bashful damsel in those old transatlantic-accent films. "I mean, like, better this than sending everyone packing early, right?"

"Real flattering." Ted responded with a renewed smile and a chuckle, getting another sheepish blush from me. "Whatever works for everyone, I'm down for it."

Based on Tanner's knowing expression, I can tell he gathered something of use from whatever that exchange was. "I mean..." Tanner repeats again, as if to remind us he's also there with filler words before taking in a sharp breath of realization, or maybe it was one of acceptance, I couldn't tell. Either way, he had an idea. "OK, how about this: most of the crew didn't get breakfast on the way up here and we're all gettin' pretty hungry, we could use some caffeine. How about you two head back out and get everyone something from Dunkin' or wherever? Get talkin', see if it works."

"You setting us up on a breakfast run, or a date?" I collect myself fast enough to make a joke, actually getting a decent chuckle out of Ted. Part of me couldn't believe I had even made that joke aloud, I was also kind of genuinely asking. "I am testing the chemistry." Tanner clarified slowly with a half smile. "And I...don't want to do it myself."

Ted and I look at each other, giving me a brief moment to realize Ted's eyes are brown. Don't know why I've chosen to collect that information now. Just another observation I've made for the day.

...Man, I'm hungry.

"Alright, but I'm not driving your car." I agree with a shrug. "No need, I got my Tacoma." Ted responds, making a clicking noise with his mouth and gesturing me to follow him outside.

"You...have your city in Washington?" I ask genuinely, getting another laugh out of him, not intentionally this time. "Toyota Tacoma. My truck." He corrects me, guiding me to an old dark green pick-up truck. "I've had this baby since high school. Graduated with it."

"Ahh, your high school sweetheart. Lovely. Happy to meet her."

"Fuck off" Ted jokingly scoffs, hopping into the drivers seat. I have this big grin on my face as I get into the passenger side. He's giving me this...oddly comforting vibe. I can talk and joke with this guy so naturally, like I've known him for longer than an hour.

Somehow, I get the feeling we'll get along just fine, even if I'll end up having to kiss him once or twice this month....

....That's got me thinking, how many times am I kissing this guy again?

__________________________________

|| Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 (smut) || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 (smut) || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 (smut) || Chapter 15 ||

[lainiespicewrites]

Electric Summer

I decided to start something new! I know I said I was going to try to finish Coach Sy first but I just don't have ideas for it. And this would not leave me alone.

Summary: OFC is a camp counselor. She and Sy used to be childhood besties and used to have a summer fling. But when they get older and school ends. She thinks she'll never see him again.

Warnings: none

Let me know what you think. Comments and Reblogs are always welcome

This work is totally my own and I own all my mistakes. Obviously, I don't own Sy.. man I wish

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This was easily my favorite time of the year. I love the fall and the smell of the leaves and cozy blankets and warm drinks. It was a beautiful time of year. Fall was my favorite season. But this was not that. This was magic. Summer’s always were. Even when the sun went down at 9pm and the sky faded to black there was still an electric energy that burned in the air. The nights weren’t over just because the sun had fallen. In fact that was the time when the best memories were made. Especially here. It’s so cliche, but to me this is the happiest place on earth. Forget Disney world. No, the best times were had slipping away from mom and dad and spending the summer with friends you hadn’t seen all year, jumping in the lake, tipping a canoe, hiking through the woods at night, sneaking off to steal a kiss with your crush behind the cabin, and warming up around the campfire at night. 

This camp built me. It holds my dearest memories from my childhood and adolescents. When they messaged me and asked about coming back as a counselor it was an easy answer. 

I looked over at my best friend pouting on my bed while I packed my suitcase. 

“I can’t believe you’re gonna be gone all summer!” she grumbled. I laughed, shaking my head at her. 

“I told you, you could come too! They need more counselors.” I stated, matter of fact. She scrunched up her nose  and raised an eyebrow. 

“I love kids but I’m not very outdoorsy, no way I’d last all summer! I’m too pale to be in the sun that long.” she retorted

“Fair, we’ve been swimming once this year and you’re already burnt.” I chuckled. I put another towel in my bag and she took it out and threw it on the bed. I sighed.

“It’s not forever V, you can literally come visit me.” I said “I won’t be on my  phone much at all  but I can give you nightly updates before lights out!” I promised.

“Fine,” she conceded, repacking the towel for me. “But if you meet somebody and start some whirlwind summer love you better tell me immediately! I want all the details! We haven't spent this long apart literally since we became friends!” I laughed 

“I doubt it, but if the perfect man somehow manages to show up to sweep me off my feet at summer camp I’ll let you know!” I told her. 

“It could happen! Didn’t you have a lil summer boyfriend when you were younger?” She asked. I thought back to my days as a camper. All the friends I’d made, the silly little camp crushes. Then there was him. For 3 straight summers there was him. I tried to resist it at first. He was incredibly charming. A lot of the girls had a crush on him. He was energetic and funny and he had this big smile. That first summer we became fast friends. I tried to ignore him but he wouldn’t leave me alone. If I got up to leave the group he’d get up and ask where I was going. When we had to use the buddy system for a game or a hike. He would claim me before one of my girls could. His friends would get mad at him for it. I never understood it. But camp was only 2 weeks long. I didn’t have enough time to dwell on it. 

The next summer. He grew. He had to be at least a foot taller. His hair had grown out into these beautiful wild curls. I think maybe he’d started working out. He mentioned he was playing football in school. So maybe that was why he seemed more toned. He still had that big sweet smile. He’d grown into a gentle giant. It must’ve been fate that once again our cabins were paired together as a group. And because we’d become such good friends he sought me out immediately. Pulling me into a big hug. 

“Hey girl!” He beamed, squeezing me tight. “Glad we’re here together again, how have you been?” He asked enthusiastically. I chuckled, my arms still wrapped around his middle as I found my footing again. He’d practically lifted me off the ground. 

“It’s good to see you too, Logan.” I smiled. Despite how hard I tried, That summer, I could not deny that I had developed feelings for him. I was too shy to tell him. And I loved being friends with him. I didn’t want to lose that. However even though Logan didn’t seem to notice it was painfully obvious to one of my bunkmates. 

“You should tell him you like him!” Tasha said, sneaking up behind me. This particular day the girls in our cabin decided to ditch the boys, who were off  playing ultimate frisbee or something, and go on a hike. 

“What?” I said quickly. She shook her head. 

“Girl, you obviously have the biggest crush on Sy, you should tell him.” she repeated herself. I started to chew on my lip nervously. 

“Logan? I… tosh… he’s my best friend. Aside from you of course,” I assured her, “I can’t tell him.” I said. She sighed dramatically. 

“Why not? He’s literally so nice, the worst that would happen is he’d say he wants to stay friends.Plus I really think he likes you too!” she said hopefully. 

“You can’t know that.” I retorted. She shook her head at me again. 

“I’ve heard people talk about it. I was in the bathroom last night and I overheard these girls from cabin F talking, one of the girls said she’s really jealous of you because of the way Logan clings to you,” she argued. 

“He does not cling to me,” I said. 

“We had to tell him our hike was no boys allowed because he was gonna ditch the boys to come with us!” she cried. 

“Maybe he wanted to hike?” I argued. Tasha gave up and just laughed. 

“Girl you’re hopeless.” she said, as we continued to walk. 

A few days later the boys and girls cabin went on a night hike together. It was a tradition. Something we did every year. We walked through the woods when it got dark and played games as a group. I hated it. It freaked me out. I was not a horror movie fan and this was like an invitation for a demon to jump out and attack you. Needless to say I was scared the whole time. Sy picked up on it immediately. Sticking with me the whole time. Distracting me and making me laugh. And when I got really tense on the walk back he grabbed my hand. When we were back in the clearing by the cabins Tasha looked back at us and noticed our hands smiling to herself. She stopped walking until she was next to me on the other side and whispered in my ear. 

“Girl if you don’t tell him I will.” I pouted and gave her a look and she just laughed skipping ahead again to hold the hand of this year's camp boyfriend. Needless to say I still didn’t tell him. I spent the next week and a half doing everything I could to avoid it. 

On the last day of camp a few of us were sitting in the grass in the sun soaking up the last few hours together before our parents arrived and we had to say goodbye. We were talking about our favorite things we’d done this summer. What we were gonna miss. Promising to keep in touch. 

“Hey Logan, you know you only live like an hour from Lainie?” Tasha said all of a sudden. 

“Oh yeah?” He asked, looking over at me with a big smile on his face. 

“Mhmm.” she continued, "You guys could totally hang out sometime!” she exclaimed. 

“How did you know that?” I asked her suddenly.

“I looked it up,” she shrugged. I rolled my eyes but then looked over at Sy, his long legs stretched out in front of him on the grass, leaning back on his elbows, the sun shining down perfectly warming his face. He looked beautiful. He had a sparkle in his eye when I met his gaze. 

“What, you don’t wanna see me?” He pouted. “I think it’d be fun! You get your license in a couple weeks right?” He raised his brows eyes hopeful. I was surprised he remembered. We talked about it at campfire a couple nights ago. He told me he was saving up for his own car so he didn’t have to drive his brothers hand me down anymore. And I said I just couldn’t wait to be able to drive without my mom in the car. 

“Yeah,” I said, “I do, and of course I wanna see you Logan,” I blushed. 

“That’s perfect,” Tasha spoke again. “You guys could go on a date or something!” she winked. 

“Huh?” I choked. Glaring at her. Logan didn’t say anything. Or if he did I was too shocked to hear what he said. 

“Girl, don't act like you don’t have the biggest crush on him. We all know it.” I could feel everyone's eyes on me now and my cheeks were burning. 

“Is that true?” Logan asked softly. I couldn’t look at him. I chewed at my lip trying to come up with anything to make this go away but I couldn’t . 

“I-I …my parents are gonna be here soon! I need to finish packing!” I said and stood up quickly running toward the cabin. That wasn’t true. I packed everything this morning. I was bragging about it to him saying I had the whole rest of the day to enjoy what we had left of camp. He knew I was lying. I heard him call after me but I didn’t stop. Not until I got back to our cabin. The boys weren’t allowed there. I could stay there and hide until It was time to go. And that’s what I did. An hour later our counselor came to find me telling me my parents had arrived to take me home. I didn’t see Logan when I was leaving. I didn’t look for him. I was too embarrassed to find him to say goodbye. So I didn’t. I left without a word. And I felt horrible about it. 

Another year came and went. Logan and I never met up after summer. I didn’t text him. I was too afraid. And I’d never given him my number.  I was beside myself with nerves about returning to camp that next summer. It was my favorite place on earth. And my worst nightmare all wrapped into one. After the way I’d left things with him last year I was afraid to see him. I thought that maybe I’d get lucky and he wouldn’t be there the same week I was. Or we wouldn’t be in the same group. So at least I could avoid him. Even if it was gonna hurt. 

Of course that’s not what happened. Again our cabins were in a group. The first day I avoided making eye contact with him. And I always stuck with the girls. I didn’t want a chance for us to be alone together. Conveniently Tasha couldn’t make it to camp this year. So I was stuck in the mess she’d made without her help.  He and I were together for group activities but I didn’t talk much. I kept to myself. That worked for the first day. But it didn’t last long. During the afternoon at camp we didn’t have a lot of scheduled activities. So we could pretty much run around and do whatever we wanted. And since we were the late highschool aged group. We didn’t have to follow the “buddy system,”  They encouraged it but I guess if we went missing that was on us. It was just after lunch. Maybe 2pm. There was this little circle of bench swings in the park. It was a great place to gather as a group. A lot of times we would sit and reflect on the day there before the campfire at night. But right now no one was there. I liked to keep a journal while I was at camp. To keep all of the memories. So I sat on one of the swings with one leg folded under me and the other dangling off to push myself on the swing. I didn’t see him coming. I was too busy scribbling down all of  my thoughts. I didn’t notice anyone was there until I heard the creak of the chains from the swing directly across from mine. I looked up. Logan was sitting on the swing, his arms stretched over the back of it and rocking back and forth on his heel pushing the swing. I set my pen in my journal, closing it slowly, before I could speak, he said. 

“Please don’t run,” His voice sounded deeper somehow even though he spoke softly. I knew he was from the south. He always had a bit of a twang but I’d never noticed that drawl like I did now. When he was pleading with me. I swallowed hard and nodded. “I don’t like this,” He spoke again when I remained silent. “I hate that you’re ignoring me.” 

“I’m not…” I started

“You are,” He interrupted, letting out a deep sigh. “Lainie,” he said, my childhood nickname. The one he’d started to call me after we all shared fun facts about ourselves. It was the name all of my mothers family had called me since I was a baby. He’d never actually addressed me by my name from that point on. It was always a joke between us. A little sentiment that he claimed as his. It sounded sad now. As he pulled his eyes from the mulch on the ground to meet my gaze. “You are my best friend. You can talk to me. About anything. Hell, I’m closer with you than I am with any of my friends back home.” He said. “I know that things were kinda awkward when we left last summer but you didn’t even say goodbye.” He paused. I bit my lip, starting to feel emotional.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I was so embarrassed.” I finally admitted to him. “I didn’t mean to leave like that. But everyone was looking at me. And I was scared and I was afraid I was gonna lose you as a friend. But I guess I did that all on my own.” I sighed. 

Sy stood up and crossed the space from his swing to mine. He paused waiting to see if I’d make room for him. Naturally I did. He sat next to me. Stretching his arm out behind me on the back of the swing. 

“You couldn’t lose me if you tried darlin,”  A soft smile formed on his lips.  If I didn’t know any better, it almost looked sad.  I could tell that he was having an inner battle in himself.  “Why were you scared?”  He finally asked.  I swallowed a lump that was forming in my throat.  There was no point in avoiding it now.  He had to know that I’ve had a crush on him.  Even I know that he isn’t too oblivious to realize that much.  I felt my breath hitch when I felt his hand cover my shoulder.  A gentle squeeze and a soft storking of his thumb brought my eyes to his.

“Because I didn’t want anything to change, what we’ve got going is good,” I spoke barely above a whisper. 

“Why would…” He started. But I cut him off before I lost my nerve. 

“Because Tasha was right. I did..do have a big crush on you. But it’s silly, and you’re such a great friend to me Logan, I didn’t want to lose that because of how I was feeling.” I rambled. 

“Huh,” He breathed. “You have a crush on me? I never would of guessed.” He smirked. I pouted and smacked his shoulder. 

“Sy, I’m serious!” I ran my hand through my hair and turned away from him to nervous to hold eye contact. I heard him chuckle softly before I felt his fingertips gently brush across my jaw turning me back to face him. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” he paused regaining his composure. “You really think I didn’t notice?” He raised both brows and had a gentle smile on his lips. 

“You knew?” I muttered softly still so embarrassed about the whole situation. 

“It’s kinda what I what I was hoping for, I’ve only been flirtin’ with ya for two summers now,” He laughed. It was my turn to be confused. I raised an eyebrow. This only caused him to laugh more. 

“You?” I paused trying to wrap my head around what I was trying to say. “Wait so?” 

“I’d have loved to have taken you out, If you’d have given me the chance.” He explained. I hung my head resting it my hands and groaned. 

“I’m an idiot.” I sighed. 

“No,” Sy said, “I should have said something sooner, and Tosh shouldn’t have called you out like that. I’d known for a while but, I really liked the way things were between us. I didn’t see a reason for us to push anything.” He said slowly pulling my hand away from my face and lacing his fingers with mine. 

“You really liked me this whole time.” I said finally looking up at him, relaxing a bit when he smiled. 

“Since the day I met you.” He admitted. I smiled. And squeezed his hand I sat up moving to sit closer to him. I opened my mouth to speak but before I could one of the counselors was interrupting us.

“Hey guys you know the rules. No purpling, No PDA,” They warned us and stood there until Sy let go of my hand.  They nodded at us before walking off to montier the rest of the play ground. Some of the younger age groups were playing in the park. ‘No purpling’ such a stupid metaphor. Girls are red boys are blue if red and blue touch it makes purple. It was so annoying. 

“I hate that damn rule.” He grumbled. I giggled softly. 

“Yeah, me too.” we both just looked at each other and smiled. 

After that moment we spent the rest of that summer by each others side. Camp always seemed like such a short time and this time it seemed like it was slipping away even faster. We never made anything official but we did hold hands when no one was looking and occasionally we would sneak off from the group to have time alone. 

One evening after dinner a few of us decided we wanted to take out some canoes on the lake. Of course the two of us took one out on our own. For some reason that night Sy  was quiet. He had been a lot of the day. I finally decided to ask him about it. “Are you okay?” I asked after a few minutes of silence had passed while we floated in the middle of the lake. 

“Yeah,” He answered quickly “Why?” He wouldn’t meet my eye. 

“You’ve just been quiet, is something bothering you? You can talk to me.” I assured him. He sat there for a few seconds without saying anything before letting out a deep breath. 

“This is gonna be my last summer at camp.” He said softly. My heart sank. I knew he was about a year older than me. And we could only come back as campers through the year after we graduated high school. But he was about to start his Senior year. He still had one more summer. 

“But you haven’t graduated yet. You can still come back next year!” I said hopefully. 

“It’s not that,” He bit his lip looking out at the water still refusing to look at me. “I signed up for the military. I’m gonna be in the army. I start basic right after I graduate. And then they’ll send me wherever they need me.” He said finally meeting my eyes. 

“Oh,” I nodded. “So, after this summer, we won’t ever see each other again.” I said sadly. 

“Hey, no,” he said, grabbing my hand, “We still got a whole year. I could come see you or you could drive to me and we… we could make this…” He trailed off. 

“Logan,” my voice cracked as I started to speak. “You and I both know it’s not going to work. You’re going to be so busy with football and your friends and your family. And I will be too.” I felt him squeeze my hand and he nodded, a sad look in his eyes. 

“I know, but I just got you, I don’t wanna let go yet.” He said. I felt a tear fall and I wiped it away quickly, not wanting to make him feel any worse. 

“Maybe, we were only ever meant to have summer.” I said. 

“Yeah,” He whispered. “Guess we better make the most of it.” 

We spent every second we could together the rest of camp. Hell he even walked me to the bathroom. It killed me to know this was all we were ever going to be. I’d never met anyone like Logan before. I hated to say that I was in love with him. I mean I was only 16 but. It sure felt like it. We did every activity together, sat together at dinner. And he’d put his arm around me at campfire when the adults weren’t looking. The night before camp was over was the annual night hike. He knew how much I hated it. So while the rest of the group headed off into the woods he grabbed my hand and led us to another trail that led to an open grassy field. The boys usually played frisbee or softball out here. 

“Logan,” I whispered. “We’re gonna get in trouble.” I said. 

“They’ll never notice we’re gone.” He said. Pulling me into his chest and hugging me tight holding me for a moment. “I just wanna be alone with you.” he mumbled into my hair. He walked us out to the middle of the field and sat down pulling me down with him. “Come here.” He said laying back on the grass and pulling me into his side. I snuggled up to him laying my head on his chest. We laid like that for a while just silent. Looking at the stars above us. 

“I don’t wanna leave tomorrow. I don’t want to have to say goodbye.” He said. I felt myself start to tear up but I forced them down. 

“Are you scared?” I asked. 

“No,” He admitted shaking his head. “My dad was in the service and my grandpa, my older brother. It’s just what we do.” He said. 

“I hate this.” I sighed. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore or him. 

“Me too darlin.” he said. We laid there in silence again. Until he spoke. “Would it… would it be too selfish to ask you to wait for me?” He asked. I felt tense. I sat up laying my hand on his chest and turned to look at him. 

“Logan, you don’t need me to wait for you, you’ll meet some pretty girl in your home town. Some girl you can come back home too when it’s all over. You’ll have long forgotten about me when you come home.”

“I could never forget you Lainie,” He said softly. My breath hitched. His eyes bore deeply into mine. Even with nothing but the moon light and the stars lighting his face I could see he meant it. 

“Sy,” I whispered. He caressed my cheek sitting up to close the distance between us. This would be the first time we’d ever kissed. Maybe the last. I could feel his breath against my lips as my eyes fluttered shut. 

“There you two are!” The boys councelor called from across the clearing. “What were you thinking you had us all worried!” We’d been caught. 

We didn’t kiss that night. We never did. The next day when my parents came to get me. He stood there outside of our cabin holding me tight. Neither of us wanted to let go. But he didn’t kiss me goodbye. We couldn’t do it. I guess it was better not to know what we were missing. 

“I’m never gonna stop thinking about ya,” He said. As we finally pulled away. 

“Neither will I.” I said 

That was 7 years ago. We didn’t see each other after that. I cried and sulked the rest of that summer. 

I shook my head bringing me back to the present. My best friend still sitting on my bed looking at me expectantly. 

“Hello, Lainie,” she snapped her fingers. 

“What? Uh yeah, I guess I did have a summer fling. I mean, we were never official, never kissed or anything. But that was years ago. Who know’s where he is now.” I said. 

“Who knows. Fate has this way of bringing people together.” She said. I shook my head. 

“You’re such a hopeless romantic.” I laughed.

“And you’re hopeless, would it kill you to belive in fairtales. Or romance.”  she argued. I just laughed. 

“You know what you’re right. You never know what will happen this summer, camp always has been a magical place.” I said. 

A few hours later I was finally on the road. I felt the excitement rise up inside me as I passed the familiar rode signs. I was almost there. I thought my heart was gonna burst when I pulled into the long drive under the main archway. After parking my car I walked up to the main building to meet with the camp director. 

“Lainie!” She smiled greeting me with a hug. “I’m so happy you were able to join the team this year!” She beamed. 

“I jumped at the opportunity Becca, I wouldn’t miss it!” I said. 

“We’re glad to have you, I’ll get you checked in so you can get settled and get your cabin set up and meet your co-coucelor. You’re with one of the boys cabins. You’ll be in cabin E and He and his boys are in A.” She smiled. 

“Okay sounds great!” I was buzzing with excitement. 

“I’ll let you get to it,” she said “I’m sure you remember where everything is!” 

I unpacked my car and carried my bag and suitcase to my cabin. It felt so good to be back. I started to unpack and make up my bunk when I heard a knock on the screen door. I figued it must’ve been my co-concelor coming to meet me. I walked to the door stepping out on to the porch of the Cabin, seeing a man standing there. He was maybe 6,1 his hair was buzzed short. And he had a full beard. He had broad shoulders and a warm smile. His eyes went wide when they landed on me. And the moment I met the I knew why. “Lainie?” He asked. Still with that deep southern drawl. 

“Logan?”

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Tagging my usual suspects, but let me know if you'd like to be added!

This is not the end of this story at all! There is much more to come here I can't wait to get started!!

Link for pt 2

@enchantedbytomandhenry @summersong69 @carrie80reads @identity2212 @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood @gummydummy19 @deandoesthingstome @shellyshellshell @mary-ann84 @starfirewildheart @foxyjwls007

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Seventeen

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Okay! Hi!:) Just have to say thank you for all the love you lot keep showing this series, it’s so mad and so very appreciated. Honestly makes me want to carry on writing. But I also wanted to add a quick warning to this update.. There is a lot going on, we finally get what we’ve been waiting for!! But there are other topics that also come into play. SO that being said please read the warnings below.

Warnings: Mentions of drug and alcohol abuse (past tense), as well as sobriety, also a previous death, bit gruesome but needed- this relates back to a conversation held between Matty and Jamie in Part Eight.

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

She never did call.

Matty waited, and then waited some more. He fidgeted the rest of the day, smoked his way through a pack of fags when they’d been down at the studio, and then nursed a single pint after having allowed the guys to bully him into one of the local pubs.

It wasn’t until much later that night that he heard anything from her at all, and it hadn’t been a call, but instead a text.

Messages now Squeaks xx I listened to it 

He’d been cooped up in his office since the second he’d gotten home, looking through a couple of older demos and other sound clips in hopes that he’d find something that would fit with the current sound of their new album. George had been on his case about it all, claiming he’d been too spaced out as of late, so Matty had huffed but ultimately followed through.

Songbooks from years before were piled up high on his desk and on the floor, pages full of chords and scribbled lyrics cluttered the rest of the space, but he continued on, using it to distract him from the torturous wait.

When his phone finally did buzz, Matty had almost decided not to answer it, figuring that it would just be a message from Jamie, or maybe his mum. He was still waiting for that ring. But fuck was he glad that he’d taken a glance. Otherwise he might’ve missed it.

Are you busy?

The next text had come through almost a minute after the first, as though she’d been debating sending it. Matty frowned down at the screen, pushing away from his desk slightly.

She’d heard it.

She’d heard the demo. 

He didn’t quite know how to feel about that, or what to take from her clipped response. It was why he had essentially asked her to call him, because at least then he would’ve been able to somewhat determine what she’d thought about it, how she might’ve felt.

His tongue slid between the row of his front teeth in thought, staring down at the messages he’d received whilst his thumbs hovered over the keyboard looking for something to say.

Can you come over?

His fucking breath got caught in his throat just reading that, his tongue suddenly too big for his mouth. Matty didn't even think before he hastily answered her, worried she might take it all back.

Give me ten minutes.

He could do ten minutes. 

Fuck it. He’d fucking speedtail it out of here and try for five if it meant that she’d just let him in again. The last week had been painful enough, no need to fucking prolong it.

So that was what he did, throwing on the first pair of trainers he’d found in the hallway and grabbing at the car keys he’d tossed down on the counter months earlier. Forgetting about the album and the work he’d planned to do, along with whatever else that had seemed so important just a second ago.

She called and he would come running.

…

It was pissing down by the time he made it to her place.

Headlights on and ignition still running, Matty went to make his escape from the driver's seat, practically vibrating with the anticipation of it all. But he did momentarily pause to yank the keys from beneath the wheel before eventually scrabbling his way out of the sidedoor, feet immediately dropping into the murky puddle sat beneath. 

He’d parked like a fucking dickhead, halfway onto the curb and his boot sticking out into the empty street, but he could care less about it as he jogged around the front of the car and up the first few steps to her door.

There was blood rushing in his ears, filling up his head and making him dizzy with it all. He raised a fist to knock, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

He’d gotten there in just under seven minutes. 

His heart was pounding like mad. 

He knocked. 

It was minutes or maybe seconds before he heard a slight scuffle on the other side. Before the hallway light turned on and peered through the painted window pane sat atop the familiar front door. 

The chain fell with a clang and Matty swallowed, watching on as the hinges creaked, revealing her face.

She stared up at him, standing in a pair of pyjamas he remembered seeing on a late night call of theirs, her hair all tied up in one of those pretty buns, soft curls escaping at the sides.

Her lips parted with her next breath, the sound of it jumped out at him and Matty couldn’t really hold back anymore. It had been six months. Six whole months. Almost to the day they’d met... Back when he’d been cocksure and arrogant. When he’d still been reeling from another stint in rehab, and from the stunt before the summer, and from Luke’s death.

Matty paused. 

He hadn’t really thought about Luke so easily. Not ever. Not since that night. Not in passing.

But she was currently staring back at him. Her eyes wide and tired. Shining in the light of the street lamps that crowded the street outside. 

Matty stepped forward, reaching for her. 

“Tell me to stop.” He muttered. 

She didn’t. 

And so his hand found the edge of her jaw, fingers nestling into a place at her hairline, skimming the tip of her ear.

“I can’t.” She answered him. Always so full of truth. 

And Matty, Matty was a selfish man. He’d been a selfish kid, too. A bratty teenager. A hellish son and an even worse boyfriend. Always so egotistical, so bold, so brazen. But even more so, selfish. 

He would take and take. And this moment was no different. He took.

Her mouth met his with an agonising fever, and there was an eager sigh that escaped in the breath shared between them that Matty couldn’t really determine if was his or hers.

She let him in so easily, let his tongue roam. She let him pull her close, let his hand find purchase on her hip and hear her moan. 

It was a whimper of a thing, a sound that was swallowed up by his mouth as he consumed her again. But it fuelled that fire within him, that heat which had been simmering so close to the surface of his skin for weeks, months now. 

“Mouse.” Matty said shakily, walking her backwards, further into the flat, where their feet shuffled over the hardwood floors. The door swung shut behind them and rattled in the silence before he was spinning and pressing her shoulders up against its cold wood. 

“Matty.” She breathed back to him, fingers catching on his neck, then his jaw, winding their way up into his hair. Tugging. 

A grunt escaped him and he pressed harder with it, teeth catching on her teeth, hands moulding into her skin. 

She tasted of something sweet, it coated the length of her tongue and melded well with the cigarette he’d lit on his way over. He wanted to taste more of it, found his nose pressing against the skin of her cheek in an attempt to do so. 

It was a second later that he felt himself rut up against her, accidentally mind, but the zip of his jeans tugged at the band of her bottoms and the movement made him realise he was hard. Had been half-way there from the moment she had texted him, but now, in her hallway, with her grinding up against him, and with those pretty little sounds she let slip, it was almost painful.

“Squeaks.” He managed to force out and she swallowed her own name right up, one arm wrapping around the length of his shoulders whilst the other tugged at the nape of his neck. 

Matty followed her demands effortlessly, a hand slipping under the hem of her shirt to feel at the warm skin hidden beneath, a calloused thumb brushing against the jut of her hip.

He explored, felt the edges of rigid flesh she kept hidden and out of sight, the freckles that lingered and dotted her torso, then wedged his knee between her legs. Hands grabbing at the backs of her thighs. 

One of her knees rode up higher on his side as he shifted even closer, letting her use him like a makeshift ladder to lift herself further up in the little space which stood between him and the door. 

He rutted again and the joint of her knee tightened by his hip, the heel of her foot digging into the back of his leg, forcing him even nearer. He grabbed at the swell of her arse, noting the way she arched into him at the touch. How her stomach tensed. 

It had just been pissing it down outside, he recalled belatedly, but her warmth in that moment seemed to dry up the remaining raindrops caught in his hair and along the shoulders of his coat. His fingertips pressed harder into her thighs at the thought, feeling the bottom of her shirt ride up higher between them upon catching on the zip of his jacket. 

She nipped at his lip, then his jaw, hands all but clawing at his neck and his back.

“Squeaks.” He tried again, brain hazy with want but needing to do this right. He had to do this right. “Squeaks.” Again he said, a plea within a shared breath between them, “Baby, please.”

She retreated all too quickly, letting him go with a sharp inhale. Lids heavy with avidity as she blinked back at him. 

Matty realised then that he’d had her pinned to the door, crowded against the wood and practically having lifted her up off of her feet. He swallowed thickly at the sight and willed his dick to calm the fuck down. But it had been way too fucking long. 

He was unhurried in the way he shifted beneath her before carefully letting her go, unwinding the leg he held at his hip before she slid slowly down his front. Feet hitting the cold wood floors with a soft thud.

He blinked and gone was that selfishness they had just shared, that immediate heat, and suddenly she was all wary, shy almost. Matty reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, before he steeled himself and finally took a step back.

“You came.” She murmured after a breath, and had his mind been in better shape he’d have been quicker with his quip.

But yet, he was left drifting in between the heady thrill and the uneventful come down they’d shared. 

He blinked slowly at her. Could see that the hallway light was the only one on, but somewhere, further down the hall, a soft glow from one of her many lamps crept its way past a door. 

“You said you’d call.” He found himself saying in reply, though it wasn’t the reprimand he’d thought it was. 

Her smile was soft then. Fond. 

His breath caught at the sight of her, still laboured from the minute before.

“After.” Squeaks whispered in recall. And Matty heard himself repeat it, “After, you said.”

She took a small step closer to him, the padding of her feet echoed in the narrow walkway. Matty’s hands twitched at his sides.

He saw her throat bob. 

“Tea?” She questioned, and Matty was both thankful and resentful for the quiet offer. 

He nodded, blinking owlishly at her. 

They stood there, not moving, for a long moment. The sound of a car passed, then the scuffle of a person or two outside, as well as the far off yap of a neighbouring dog. And still they just stood there, staring.

She took another step nearer and Matty attempted not to react to the way her fingers caught on the front of his coat, memorising the careful way she started to peel it off of him, turning so that she could claim it and then hang it off some place to the side. He looked at her the whole while, scared to take his eyes off her, in truth.

He licked at his lower lip when he caught her staring too and captured her hand in his when she went to step around him. 

“Tea.” He reminded himself and she smiled, eyes flickering across the length of his face. As though she was seeing him for the first time.

“Tea.”

…

Her kitchen always felt so homely. 

She had spices fixed to a rack on the wall, wound in growing ivy attached to the potted plant that sat on the windowsill beside it. Her fridge was dotted in magnets and polaroids, and a drawing of Teddy’s hung front and centre. The table was always so neat, though still cluttered with the odd crayon and lego piece, a bowl of fruit was perched in the very middle. She had one of those kettle cosy’s too, a knitted one that reminded Matty of days spent at his nana’s house when he was just a boy. 

His favourite part of all of it though, had to be her. 

He stood in the doorway and just watched as she puttered about the space, flashbacks of previous visits coming back to him. She had this easy grace about her, an elegance he always seen but could never quite make out. She was a piece to many puzzles in the way she typically held herself, so ready to fight and so willing to wilt, but in that moment she just was.

And Matty could hardly tear his eyes away from her, from the length of her back to the curve of her waist. The taste, the memory of her still coating his tongue.

He’d kicked off his shoes before he could trail a messy track throughout her home, so his footsteps were quiet when he finally crossed the kitchen tiles. He paused just behind her, his hands falling to her hips whilst his chin dropped to rest on her shoulder.

She allowed it. Picking up the kettle to pour over two mismatched mugs, he simply watched her work.

It was a difficult task not allowing his hands to wander, or to keep his mouth from pressing against the pulse in her neck, but he withheld, content to just hold her. Humming when she picked up the milk and thinking over the last day they’d spent together. That night at his.

They moved over to the table not long after, her kitchen blinds were still open so the moon gifted them all the light they needed. Matty kept close, knocking his knees against hers at the very corner of the table, unwilling to go without.

She was quiet still whilst she danced a finger around the rim of her steaming brew, Matty was mesmerised by the delicate motion.

A hum of hers broke the silence they had since settled in, the softness of it causing him to blink and look up, immediately recognising the faint tune of the demo he’d sent her.

He smiled, his eyes caught on to the one she wore too. Practically conspiratorial.

His legs reached outwards to capture one of her ankles between his feet, her gaze flickered back and forth between both his eyes. He wondered what she saw in them, what she made of him.

“I’m guessing you liked it then.” Matty spoke, voice ever so low, still scared to break their languid solitude.

Mouse dipped her chin in a nod, peering up at him through dark lashes that made him want to catch her by the neck and pull her in again. He knew what she tasted like now, he felt as though it would forever haunt him.

“Thank you,” She whispered after, fingers cupped around the bottom of her mug. His brow furrowed.

“For what?”

She smiled again, blinking at him sweetly, “For my gifts, for always being so lovely, for sending me that song.”

Matty snorted, knowing that the last thing he could possibly be was lovely.

Fingertips touched his chin then and she guided his face back up to meet hers, he hadn’t realised he’d even looked away. But it was then that he was reminded of that night in his own kitchen, crowded between her legs and the counter, her kind eyes. You’re enough.

“Was it for me?” She questioned, watching him closely again. Something she tended to always do. “‘Cause that kiss, it sort of made it feel like it was for me.”

Matty grinned, eyes squinting with the strength of it. 

It was so easy- too easy, even- for her to make him smile like that, and he couldn’t even begin to decide whether he loved or hated the fact that she had the ability. 

“Yeah, Squeaks. It was for you.”

Her cheeks dimpled in an attempt to dim the smile she then wore, elbows pressing against the table’s edge, her foot resting on top of his own. “Good.” She murmured, leaning in closer now.

“Good?” He chuckled, following the motion. Eyes caught on the curve of her mouth.

“Uhuh,” She breathed into the small space between them, nose brushing against the side of Matty’s own. “Really good.”

He laughed again, low and breathy this time around, before he finally closed the distance and kissed her for a second time.

She laughed too, smiling against his lips.

–

For an insomniac, the dark was a place full of many contradictions.

Matty had spent countless hours staring up at all types of ceilings, in all sorts of places, and in all kinds of countries. But hers, he reckoned, was possibly his favourite. As most things had come to be in the short time he’d spent with Mouse.

Because even as she slept on beside him, bundled in the duvet and a blanket that smelt of her, he didn’t stress over the fact that he was still wide awake. 

His mind was too preoccupied to stress. Just thinking back to the expression she’d worn when she’d first opened the front door. To the breathy gasps that had escaped her in the hallway. The way she’d gently carded her fingers through his hair after she’d lured him into bed. Promising to talk more tomorrow.

He thought of Luke then, as well. As he often did whenever the darkness plagued him.

The fucker would be laughing if he could just see him now, obsessing and all soppy over some bird. Smiling away to himself in the dark.

But Matty knew that he’d be happy too. Glad that he was finally getting back on the right track. Actually trying this time around. Because Luke had known the hardships of addiction just as well as Matty had- it was what had killed him in the end, wasn't it.

He could still picture his face, both before and after the fall. One second they’d all been grinning on that roof, high as kites and drunk out of their minds, having the time of their lives, and then his had hit the concrete.

Matty’s stomach rolled at the thought.

At the eerie silence that had followed.

He’d been struggling that night, trying to get clean, to stay clean. And they’d only gone to the party, Luke and Danny, to appease him. Luke, having tagged along wanting to look out for him, to make sure that he didn’t get too caught up in anything he couldn’t get himself out of.

Luke had been sober three months at that point. Clean of the drugs and the drink. All of it. He’d drank that night though, the party had been at one of his dodgier mates places and he wouldn’t have been able to have stayed in the clear.

Matty remembered egging him on, telling him to live a little. To have a beer. A shot. And then another. And another. Someone else had offered him that line though.

He’d been hammered by the time some idiot had come up with that dare and they’d all thought it had been a sick idea to try and walk the length of the roof. Like they were at Zippo’s sodding circus.

Luke had been doing so good. Matty had known it too. What with his first EP coming out that September, something which Jamie had made happen, and his new flat that he’d not long moved into. Away from the familiarity of street corners he knew far too well and faces of dealers that he’d seen time and time again before.

He’d been good. Been going steady.

Then he was just dead.

Matty didn’t close his eyes then, even as they began to water. Didn’t want to see him like that. Knew that he would if only he shut his eyes. Because he couldn't stand to see the reminder, the life that had left him too quickly.

A slight sniff broke him from his thoughts then and he stilled as Mouse moved and turned in her sleep.

He let himself breathe a little easier once she’d settled again, tucking her face into the crook of his shoulder and nestling further into his side. He wrapped an arm around her, needing her close, and then finally allowed his eyes to fall shut, burying his face in the top of her hair.

He wondered if she’d let him stay from now on and pressed a long kiss to her forehead.

He hoped that she would, listening to the quiet that hummed throughout the rest of her flat as his mind began to let go of what consciousness it had once clung on to.

‘Tomorrow’ was his final thought before he eventually drifted off. It had been a long time since he’d thought that he’d ever make it to a tomorrow.

–

It was a grunt I woke up to. The heavy and unfavoured kind, the type that was only ever forced out of you when you received a hefty blow to the stomach.

I felt my face wrinkle as I pressed in closer to the warmth beside me, unhappy to have been woken. But then I heard a whisper, followed by a giggle, which had me blinking blearily and peering up at the toddler now towering over me.

“Wake now?”

“Teddy.” I heard someone else laugh right above my head, and I was quick in the way I looked up, recognising that the warmth I’d been clinging to had been Matty all along. “You’re an actual monster, you know that?”

Teddy squealed happily when Matty tickled his sides, but seemed content with his place on the man’s stomach and the fact that Matty was here at all. 

I wanted to groan at the very idea, I hadn't much thought this through. Not when I’d heard the song, thinking back to the night I’d spent at his, the fight we’d had, the way he’d held Teddy and promised him that things would soon be alright.

It hadn’t felt real. It still didn’t.

“Wake?” Teddy said to me again and I had to give a soft laugh when I felt his finger prod at my cheek, which was probably marked with the line of Matty’s t-shirt now. “Yeah?”

I chuckled again, peering up at him. “Yeah, I’m awake.” I replied, smiling before I rubbed at my eyes.

Matty’s arm seemed to be tucked up under me because it twitched a tad when I moved. I grimaced at the loss of feeling he must have experienced and murmured a quiet “Sorry,” shuffling over slightly so that I could free the limb. But he merely laughed to himself before his hand came up to rub at my arm, keeping me close. 

“It’s fine.” Matty replied, his voice tinged with sleep and grainy from lack of use, but then he winced and flexed his fingers, “Oh.”

I snorted softly and glanced up at him, “Pins and needles?”

His nose wrinkled further, as did his lips when he tilted his head back and tried to shake loose the feeling from his wrist. I let him have his arm back, turning over onto my stomach to simply watch him, drinking in the sight of him whilst I still could.

“Yeah.” He hissed out and Teddy, who was watching too, started to shake his arm alongside Matty.

Matty only noticed the mimicking movement when he felt the toddler shift on his torso and opened his eyes up only to laugh at the way that Teddy was now copying him.

“Oi,” He admonished, using his other hand to playfully pinch at the boy’s side, “What you think you’re doin’?”

Teddy giggled, hair a mess from having just woken but grinning all the while. “Dancin’! Like you!”

I shook my head and bit back my sudden amusement before dropping it down into my hands when I couldn’t quite manage to hide my growing smile.

“Oh, we’re dancing are we?” I heard Matty say, and could feel the grin he probably wore. Then Teddy was laughing again and squirming beside me once more, sounding so happy, before the bed tilted more so to one side and a soft thud was heard. “Oi, where you off to!” Matty asked him whilst Teddy’s giggles still echoed around the space.

“Tele!” Was the only response he got and I listened to the way Teddy’s feet hurried out of the room, having escaped Matty’s merciless tickles.

There was a quiet for a moment before I felt a hand come to cradle my head and fingers card their way through my hair.

I leaned into the touch, savouring it. I didn’t think anyone had ever touched me with such a softness before, like I was something to be treasured, to be held and kept close.

It was a long while before I finally raised my head again, blinking at the sweet sight I was met with. I smiled at the mess his curls were in and the way his eyes squinted in the dim light of the room.

“Hi.” I whispered and his fingers stilled in my hair when he looked back at me. 

Matty didn’t say a thing though, merely shuffled further down the bed, the duvet being kicked somewhere to the bottom before he finally settled in beside me, both our heads now resting on a single pillow.

His fingertips skirted along the edge of my jaw and trailed across the bottom of my lip before his thumb reached out to catch it too, pinching the flesh ever so slightly.

“You snore.” Matty said to me then and my mouth dropped open slightly in offence.

“I do not.”

He snorted to himself, grin widening, “You do.”

I shoved him but his hands were quick to grab at my arms, wrapping them up and moving to press them against his chest. “It’s cool though, they’re cute snores.”

“How the fuck can they be cute, Matty?”

He rolled his eyes at the ask, still grinning away. “Like, just soft and stuff. Don’t stress, I’ve roomed with George and he’s got the lungs of a whale or summat. I could probably sleep next to a fog horn and feel at home.”

A bright laugh escaped me at that, before I was shaking my head gently and looking back at his sleepy smile. “That makes me feel so much better.”

Matty smacked his lips around another grin, shrugging the shoulder that wasn’t pressed to the mattress. He reached out then, brushing a loose strand from out of my face and let his thumb linger on a freckle.

“Your breath stinks as well.”

I bit into my bottom lip at that, narrowing my eyes at him. “Well yours is no better! And besides, you didn’t seem to mind it much last night.”

I went to turn over then but he was hasty in his movements to grab at me, tugging me back towards him, closer this time. I laughed joyfully, “Hey!”

“Hi.” Matty grinned smugly once we'd settled, his hand falling to the small of my back.

I was gripping one of his shoulders now whilst my other arm laid in the little space between us. “I said that already.” I told him, feeling each soft exhale that escaped him. 

He hummed, thumb rubbing circles into my skin. “I missed you, you know.”

My brow furrowed, “You slept right beside me, you muppet.”

He pinched my hip in retaliation and so I chuckled. “You know what I meant.”

I did know.

“Missed you, too.” I murmured, letting my fingertips trail up over the side of his neck, liking the feel of his barely there stubble. “But-”

He stopped me then, nudging my cheek with the tip of his nose, “I know. Later, yeah?”

My eyes fell closed and I hummed in agreement, later was fine. We could talk later.

His hand pressed against the curve of my back, forcing me even closer, and so my fingers worked themselves into his hair. I exhaled softly and tilted my head forward just a touch. He closed the distance between us in a single heartbeat.

Kissing Matty was different, everything about it just felt right in a way that no other kisses ever quite had. Things appeared to click. Fall into place around me. 

But don't get me wrong, it was painful too, because there was that ache in my chest again, the hole that hollowed out my unforgiving heart. I wanted him but at the same time, I was too terrified to reach out and touch.

Our lips brushed, once, twice, then a third time, hesitant and careful, before something shifted and I was taken back to the previous night. To the way his fingers had dug deep into my thighs, to the front door pressing against my spine, to the way he’d held me so weightlessly.

Talking could wait til later, I reminded myself.

Now, all I wanted was for Matty to consume me and I immediately gasped at the cold hand that dragged its way up my side to tease me, thumb brushing against the nipple that hardened beneath it. 

I wouldn’t let him have all the fun though, so without a second thought I rolled him over and settled on his hips. He was surprised by the change but adapted seamlessly, rutting up off the mattress to meet me, one hand still toying with me, taunting, whilst the other cupped the back of my head.

It was back and forth for a short while, mouth chasing mouth, chests heaving with the force of it.

But then, a bang hollowed out the flat.

I jumped at the sudden noise and shot my head over towards the door, listening in closer.

“Okay?” I called out, noting the breathless quality my voice now had. I waited and didn’t move even when Matty’s hands came to just sit on my waist. 

“‘Kay!” I heard Teddy shout back and I released a semi-amused huff before turning back to face the man beneath me, “Sorry.”

And I was. I really was, especially when I forced myself to drop back down onto the bed sheets next to him.

Matty simply chuckled and I glanced over at him, smiling slightly when he reached out to swipe a gentle thumb over the scar on my jaw. “You’re good." I wondered if he was just saying that, but then, "What do you think he’s actually done though? Sounded like the bike to me.”

I sighed at the very thought. The bike had been one of my mum’s many Christmas gifts to Teddy, one which I hardly had any room for in the flat. I silently hoped that it wasn't the bike, but was caught on the way Matty had so easily adapted, moving on without complaint.

Was that normal?

Matty’s hand coaxed me back into looking at him again and I softened when I saw the smile he wore. “Later,” He reminded me, knocking a knuckle against my chin before he withdrew completely, sitting up on the edge of the bed. “How about a fry up then? There's that bakery by the studio or the cafe up near mine, choice is yours but it’s on me.”

“Matty.” I huffed, not a whine but near enough, extending an arm out in hopes that it would call him back to bed.

He smirked, glancing at me from over his shoulder once he'd stood. He dragged a hand through his hair. “Come on, got a growing boy to feed- Teddy too, I 'spose.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help my grin. “You’re an idiot.”

“So you’ve said.” He quipped and I could hear how his laughter filled the flat even as he headed for the bathroom, “Teds get ready, mate! We're getting bacon!”

I fell back onto the mattress with a smile, staring up at the ceiling above me with a little bit of hope.

[specialinterestshows]

Find a safe harbor in this latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic, Absolute Smokeshow.

Warnings for this section: Parasocial interaction mention, anxiety, cannabis (weed), crying

-

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 77 of ?): Un Poco De Azúcar

“Creeps lurking around my apartment. Spending a few days at Marisol’s”

You hit send on your update message to Rhea as you walked up to Mari’s door. The anxiety that you might be imposing - despite the fact that she had offered to have you over - showed in your timid knock. As you waited for a response, you looked around. No one had followed you on your drive over; you had made sure of that by taking the least direct route. Still, there was no shaking the feeling that someone might be watching you even now.

Just when you thought you might have to knock again, the door opened and the sweet smell of weed and cinnamon wafted over you.

Marisol’s warm, brown eyes sparkled the moment she saw you; but her warm smile faltered when she noticed how stressed you looked as you walked in.

“Ay, cariño, when’s the last time you smoked?”

“… Last night,” you admitted, pulling off your hat and mask when you heard the door close; you’d needed your wits about you all day.

“Well, I packed a bowl as soon as I got your text,” Mari turned the lock and gestured to the bong on her table, “Water and some snacks are there, too. You relax however you need to, and let me know if you need space. I put new sheets on my bed for you, too” - she could see you about to protest and raised one finger to stop you - “The couch folds out, I’ll be fine.”

You were touched by how thoughtful all of this was, setting your things down and trying to formulate your thanks. Suddenly, the tension you had been feeling since becoming a subject of public speculation burst, emotions flooding you all at once. Your vision blurred and before you knew it, you had thrown yourself into Marisol’s arms and were sobbing into her shirt.

The way she held you was warm and tender, with a patience that seemed to say she would sooner fall asleep than let go before you needed her to.

“No te preocupes, preciosa,” she whispered, “You’re safe.”

Somehow that made you cry harder. Maybe it was the validation that you no longer felt safe when you were facing the world alone.

When you finally pulled away, the first thing you saw was the large pool of tears and snot you had left on Mari’s shoulder. That was embarrassing.

“Sorry about your shirt,” you mumbled, hand hovering in front of your nose as you looked around for a box of tissues.

“I have plenty of other clean shirts,” Marisol reassured you, walking to her room as you headed toward the tissues on the table, “I’ll change, no problem.”

As you sat down and blew your nose, you checked your phone. Two messages from Rhea:

“Are you okay?”

“I can get you a room at a hotel if you need it”

You quickly tapped out your response and hit “send”, not wanting to make your girlfriend worry:

“I’m okay! It’s safe here, no one followed me”

Setting your phone down, you eyeballed the bong, bowl full to the brim. As you contemplated whether you should wait for your hostess before taking greens, Mari walked back in. Her shirt was now a calm blue with a taco printed onto it; a contrast from the bright pink she had been wearing earlier.

“Trash is over there,” Marisol said, making you realize you had been balling up your tissues, compressing them into your hand instead of disposing of them. Throwing them out, you noticed Mari wasn’t sitting down.

“Care to join me?” you asked, grabbing the lighter from the table.

She visibly relaxed and gave you a grin before sitting down next to you.

“Muchas gracias.”

You started the bowl, keeping a careful eye on the inside of the bong as you inhaled. When a column of thick, white smoke swirled up to greet you, you took out the bowl and used all the power in your lungs to pull the hit through. Holding it for a few seconds, you turned to Mari and leaned in.

Exhaling as soon as your lips make contact, you lingered into the shotgun until there was no smoke left and it had become a kiss.

Your face was warm as Mari pulled away slightly to exhale before giving you another smooch. The shy smile it brought to your face made her giggle before she motioned for you to take another hit. The two of you continued in this fashion until the bowl was cashed. There was something about Mari that put you at ease, even with the voice in the back of your head reminding you that a terrifying world awaited outside.

“Did you bake these from scratch?” you asked, looking at the spread of cookies on the table, “They smell delicious.”

“Help yourself,” Mari insisted, grinning when you did, “Family recipe. They don’t talk to me since I came out, but I’ll always have this.”

You watched her take a bite and smile contentedly; the cookies were, in fact, delicious. As you chewed, the hits you’d been taking seemed to catch up to you all at once. Exhaustion was creeping in, making it difficult for you to want to ask your hostess about what might end up being a very long story. Mari noticed you getting tired, too, as you sleepily brushed the crumbs from your mouth.

“My bed is right around the corner,” she reminded you, smiling when you nodded and stood, “Buenas noches, belleza.”

“Good night,” you replied, carrying your things in with you, “And thanks again.”

Catching a glimpse of yourself in a small, round mirror on one of Mari’s bedroom walls, you groaned at your reflection. Eyes already puffy, you were certain it would be obvious you had been crying when you went back to work tomorrow.

Mari’s sheets were soft as you crawled under the blanket, and you contemplated how you were going to thank her for her kindness. After all, this certainly wasn’t how either of you had first planned on you spending the night in her bed.

You checked your phone one last time before going to sleep. One message from Rhea lit up the screen, a small black heart at the end:

“I love you so much”

You smiled and replied with the same:

“I love you so much.”

[end part seventy-seven of ?]

Part 78: “And They Were Roommates”

-

Tag list (thank you!)

@littlemiss-fanficlover , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domripley , @wiccanpriestess , @falloutboy-lover , @aut0luminescence , @riverina69 , @itsrheasgirl , @1-800-sinister , @ripleylove , @beeposts , @teganc

[ur-dad-satan]

Wally Darling is talking to US (WH update)

I saw a few people talking about the Welcome Home update and so far all the posts I've seen keep forgetting that Wally's eyes are on the site if you zoom out. Wally's eyes aren't the only thing there as of this update. This may have some spoilers so feel free to ignore this because I'm talking about what's there and what I think it means.

Now, of course there's the five commands we got around the website before this update. The Write hello, write ok, Move Barnaby, turn the Playfellow Exhibition upside down, and the reverse this image of Sally to be specific. All five of those commands got responses from someone within the website or even someone in Welcome Home. I saw someone say that it's Wally making these changes, and I honestly agree. The "Write hello" is met with red writing in Wally's handwriting.

Now, we know for a fact that this is Wally's handwriting because of the bottom of the Guestbook where everyone signed their name. This is the same handwriting as "Wally" and "Home" in the guestbook.

All of their handwriting is so distinct and only Wally's and Home's names are written in a) the same font and b) the same smiley/accent. Wally is talking to us and/or the WHRP team.

The Write ok is also completely wonky. We all assumed that meant add ok to the URL or just type ok and something would happen; however, the sticker page got completely rearranged. It's a complete mess and the character stickers spell out OK with a smiley face in the "O". Directly under "Neighbors" is Wally's little sticker gif thing and a little house has been constructed around the right eye and one around a Home and a Wally sticker.

It's also worth mentioning that the home sticker in the "welcome home house" is the only Home sticker on the page anymore. I haven't mentioned that the new little drawings that Wally's done have messages when you hover over them. This one in particular says "I did not write this. I did something else. I know who these neighbors are. Do you like them too?" I can't tell if that's Wally trying to come through or something/someone else.

When it comes to the Move Barnaby command, just a glance will show that Barn's name isn't there with Wally's and Howdy's. Barnaby's name is literally moved off of the page with a small drawing of the blue man himself with the message "Do you like Barnaby here?" The silly little guy is showing that he's answering whoever is trying to talk to him.

Barn was physically moved and then asked whether or not it was done correctly. That's also the only place he was moved from on the entire transcripts page.

The playfellow Exhibition page also had a little message saying to turn it upside down. Now anywhere on the page it says, "The Playfellow Exhibition" or even "The Playfellow Workshop" those words are upside down. There's also a drawing of a Christmas tree with an eye on it near the top.

When you hover over the drawing, it says "I did not know what to do. I think I am correct. Is it Homewarming where you are? Happy Homewarming." First of all, what is Homewarming? Is that supposed to be like a housewarming or a Neighborhood holiday or something like that? Also, what is the little guy confused about? Why would he be wrong when the instruction is so clear?

Lastly, the reverse this image of Sally thing is possibly the most bizarre thing about the new update. Of course, the command says to reverse the image so many people just flipped the picture horizontally. This is what we expected but this is what we got.

We got the literal BACK of the picture. You can still see Sally's hand and her shoes, but this shouldn't be possible. How can we see the back of the curtain when it's not a 3D picture. This one in particular leaves me with a bunch of questions and not really any theories. What does this mean for the sake of the website and therefore Wally and the other neighbors? Is Wally the only one who can communicate this way or even trying to? Are the others going to be able to communicate with us and the WHRP team?

In all seriousness, this is so cool and turning out so good! I'm really invested and so proud of Clown and all the voice actors. I can't wait to see where this goes from here and what the next update brings. <3

[samfosho]

I hate to do this, but not asking for help is how I ended up with tens of thousands in medical debt to begin with and I'm getting desperate.

So, hi. I'm Sam. I'm a queer, autistic & ADHD living with mountains of medical debt that has accrued after working a decade at a job I believed in for just pennies, with nothing to show for it but burnout and depression. (Yes, I know there are charities that buy medical debt. I did not know about them before I took advice from An Adult That I Trusted and Thought Was Smart years ago now, who said just put it on a credit card. I have learned and suffered for that mistake)

Fortunately, I've got a good job now. Unfortunately, that doesn't solve all my problems overnight. Currently, I have about $36 to my name, which isn't even mine if you think about it (see: debt), and I don't get paid for a week. I'm working on the Big Shit, but there are two things I really need help with:

Immediate: I have a car payment coming out today for $156 that I can't cover

Less Immediate, but still looming: I NEED to have my wisdom teeth out. I've put them off for a long time, and I'm currently dealing with a lot of pain as I wait for the appointment next month. Insurance came back with them covering half, but that still leaves $1400 out of pocket.

I thought I had everything budgeted a little better this month, and all I had to worry about was the upcoming wisdom teeth appointment. I had a small car issue (tires needed replaced) and I forgot my rent went up this month and not next.

This is a huge ask, and I know we're all struggling, so I'm not asking for that full amount.

That dental appointment is the soonest I can get in, at the least expensive office that takes my insurance, so moving to a different doc isn't an option. They DO offer payment plans, however they only offer 6 months, and the full amount is too much of a monthly payment for me to make and still pay rent/make car payments/feed my cats.

If I can make that first payment on the day as big as I can, and cut the monthly payments, that would be an immense relief.

SO, my goal is $600, if at all possible, in the long run, so I don't lose everything

But my immediate, PLEASE if you can, so I don't lose my car or miss rent or get hit with overdraft fees that will just hit me even harder goal is:

$200

This would get my car payment and a little extra to get as many cheap, non perishable groceries as I can so I don't have to worry about what I'll eating the next few months.

If possible, literally anything is a huge help and amazing. If not possible, a little boost would be amazing.

If you would like to receive an actual, physical thing—like, say, a cussy piece of embroidery—you can go buy something from my Etsy store. Stock is limited, cuz I have been working enough that I haven't had time to make a lot of things or get new supplies, but I have some stupid mushroom earrings I can add to the shop, too, when I get a moment, and some stone jewelry that I made and have been meaning to sell for YEARS.

I also have a comic that I haven't updated in forever, because of the aforementioned busyness, burnout and stress. So I will draw you a little robot or something if you donate if you want

Here is a pic of my cats, they would also appreciate eating

Thanks for taking the time to read, I greatly appreciate that, too 💚

I put my links under the cut, so they're not just out there in case this post travels past my need of it

Venmo @ SamFoShoBro

cashapp $SamFoShoBro

Message for paypal. I have it, I just don't like using it.

[luvmyoui]

five - good?

previous masterlist next

gp!myoui mina x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex

word count: 1,443

a/n: SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IN A WHILE I WS WORKING ON PT2 FOR HER FAV AND IVE JS BEEN REALLY BUSY😞😞

“mina, you actually can’t keep doing this. not only are you sleeping around, but you're bringing these girls to our dorm. just imagine what could happen if it got out that you were sleeping around and that you had a dick.” nayeon said the moment mina stepped foot out of her room.

“okay, okay, this was the last time.” mina waved her off as she went to open the fridge

“you say that everytime, I'm serious about this. It has to stop.” nayeon said with a groan. 

“no more, got it.” mina said while taking out the leftovers that remained in the fridge. It was too early for her to say anything in disagreement. 

“i'm gonna hold you to this.” nayeon said with a pointed glare. 

mina hummed in response but the next thing that left nayeon's mouth made her freeze up. “I hope you were responsible enough to have taken precautions, having a child would ruin us.”

“w- what, o-of course i um i obviously wouldn't have any.” mina stuttered out. 

she didn't want it out anywhere that she had a kid, her whole career would be over if the news got out. nayeon sent her a questioning gaze wondering why she suddenly froze up. mina usually never froze up like this. mina didn't say anything to explain her sudden change of demeanor and simply walked back to her room. she could eat in there for today. 

she set the food down on her desk and sat down on her gaming chair. no matter how much mina had changed, her obsession with video games was something that never would. she opened minecraft and scrolled all the way down to her first few worlds. her cursor hovered over the one named ‘dream house w y/n’. 

reminiscing the time when she made it and showed you it with a smile spread across her face brought sadness to her. she missed you but she hated you. in her eyes she treated you amazing and still did. it wasn't like she had disappeared, she sent you money monthly and sometimes she would even send gifts. she thought that she was fulfilling her role as a parent pretty well. 

mina often thought of messaging you, asking for updates on isla. the hesitance would hit while her thumb was hovering over the send button. her ego not allowing her to talk to you after the way you had ended things. 

sixth harmony, the group that was formed after the time you spent on x factor. you had sadly lost on the show but it seemed like that was for the better. after being eliminated, simon cowell had signed you under his company saying that he saw the potential in all of you. simon taking the risk with you and the girls had only ended up paying off, your fame skyrocketing. 

your debut single miss movin’ on being a huge hit, your group name being known nationally. with time the fame of sixth harmony only grew and grew. though you had finally achieved your dream of becoming a famous singer it seemed as if the hole in your heart never filled. you thought that maybe doing this would make you feel better about all that had happened. (spoiler alert: it didn't!)

being a singer wasn't easy either, the paparazzi were insane. you couldn't leave your house with isla in fear that you being a mother would be leaked. It was much harder to spend time with your daughter with your busy schedule. you ended up having to tell your company that you had a daughter, so you could bring her to the studio.

seeing simon as someone you were close to you revealed the information to him and to say he was upset was an understatement. you being a teen mom changed everything, this could not get out. due to the fact that sixth harmony was very famous, you being one of the fan favorites, he could not do anything, they needed you. 

you honestly considered yourself lucky to have been gifted with such an amazing daughter. even when introduced to the new environment isla barely fussed. In fact she quickly started to look forward to going with you to places, being able to see her favorite aunt dinah. although having been with camila for more time she for some reason changed her favorite to dinah. you were ecstatic that your daughter both adored and was adored by your bandmates. 

it had now been 3 years since you debuted and two years since mina had left you. the thought left a bitter taste on your tongue, two years since she left you with a broken heart.

you stepped out of your apartment (which mina was still filling the rent for) to go down and check for mail. you were stopped at your door by a box though, you picked it up and brought it back into your room. you took the box to a kitchen and used a knife to cut through the tape, you checked the address and noticed it was from korea. you immediately knew who it was from.

Inside resided a thick white envelope on top of a sweatshirt. your eyes widened as you picked up the envelope, feeling how thick it was, filled with without a doubt hundred dollar bills. you didn't know why she continued to do this, you knew that she knew you were a singer. still, mina never failed to send a monthly allowance and gifts. 

after taking out the envelope you took out a sweatshirt, and once you unfolded it your jaw dropped. in a recent interview you had mentioned that your favorite expensive brand was prada. in your hands right now was a prada sweatshirt, one that you knew cost over a thousand dollars.

you made sure to use that sweatshirt to its full extent.

you were currently holding a small party at your home for isla, as it was her birthday. a ring at your door had caused you to momentarily put her in lauren’s lap as you went to answer it. standing there was a delivery man who was asking for your signature. you went to sign it, confused on what it could've been, you didnt remember ordering anything. 

the man asked if you wanted him to put the package inside as it was heavy and you kindly accepted. after he left, you got a knife to open the package, it was huge. It was almost the same height as isla. when you opened the package your eyes widened and you called isla over. 

“hey baby, you got a gift.” you softly said squatted down as she smushed her face into yours. 

at the mention of a present, she immediately pulled away and tried to peep into the box.

“weally?! whos it fwom?” isla questioned, not being able to pronounce her r’s correctly.

“It's from your other mom.” at the mention of her isla’s face dropped. 

“why cant mommy come and see me? why doesn't she wanna see me?” isla said her bottom lip wobbling. 

“baby, it’s not that she doesnt wanna see you, she's just really busy working. she has to work hard to provide for us, she misses you so much!” you said trying your best to make sure isla didn’t cry on her birthday. 

“c’mon, don't you wanna drive around this super cool car?” dinah intervened, sensing that isla would cry.

the girls had come over along with isla, and had seen the whole interaction. isla’s mood immediately went up at the mention of riding in the car. she ran over to dinah and reached her hands up, gesturing that she wanted to be picked up. dinah reached down and picked isla up, isla now finally getting a look at the present in full. it was a pink toy rzr 900.

although everyone's mood had been lifted heavily, camila’s stayed down. a frown etched onto her face. she understood that mina was still isla’s parent but you referring to her in a positive way didn't sit right with her. camila was there with you through everything mina had put you through, and camila hated mina. 

“mina what the fuck?!” nayeon shouted as she burst into mina’s room. 

startled by the noise, mina flinched hard and accidentally hit a piglin in minecraft.

“what the fuck?!” mina shouted in response, now being attacked by all of the piglins in her vicinity. 

“check your fucking phone.” nayeon said in a scarily calm voice.

mina obliged and the second she picked the device up her eyes widened. 

“fuck.” 

taglist: @moon-ellie @lisas-earlobe @cocojy @second-daughter-of-clexa @runassimp @eliii1sblog send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

[katebisxop]

mission accomplished

| natasha romanoff

summary: there are some parts of her past natasha avoids, but duty calls and she's unable to refuse.

warnings: violence, mention of blood, swearing, alcohol, i'm not russian so i used google translate <3, i don't know shit about fighting yall

wc: 1.6k

"i've got a mission for you, agent romanoff."

a visit from nick fury himself was the last thing natasha expected on a weekend day off.

so far she'd succeeded in cleaning up her apartment — a couple months out meant that she had no time to clean up take out boxes and empty soda cans. she had been about to turn on the tv for a little break when sharp taps from her door reached her ears.

peeking through the peephole, she'd discovered fury staring straight back, a couple papers clutched in his arms before letting him in.

"another?" she says, plopping down on the sofa and bringing a glass of alcohol to her lips. "not saying i'm complaining, but i've just been out of the country, you know."

fury sits down on a vacant armchair without invitation. he slides the folder he'd been holding towards the redhead, sitting back and putting his fingertips together. "yes, i know. but i want you to keep an eye on someone. possibly dangerous."

natasha takes the folder, hesitating to open it. "couldn't one of your shield agents do it?"

there's a glint in fury's eye. "figured you'd be interested."

"and why is that?" natasha asks, stalling, dreading, because she already knows. she suspects, at least, because fury wouldn't hand a 'keep an eye' mission to an avenger.

"just open it."

she does. her eyes fall on a slightly blurry picture, but recognizable nonetheless.

she'll always recognize that shade of h/c hair, and those angry e/c eyes.

and to further confirm her suspicions, the photo was labeled with a name.

Y/N L/N

affiliation: red room and hydra

natasha's mission had been going well. she'd kept an eye on you, as promised, but you never seemed to do anything. you went out for groceries, or for a drive, or to run other mundane errands. nothing suspicious enough to report to fury.

you acted normal enough for her to think that you were only under surveillance because of where you'd come from, not from what you might do. she regretted accepting the mission in the first place. she was about to return to fury and demand that he withdraw this task from her and give it to someone else.

until a bottle of vodka appeared in front of natasha's temporary apartment door, empty except for a scroll of paper. a message in a bottle. she almost scoffed.

natasha scanned her surroundings, waiting for an attack, doubting the given bait. but she took it anyway. the redhead walked towards her kitchen, smoothly sliding out the scroll and unfurling it only to read three simple words. i see you.

she didn't do anything about it for another several weeks. she'd recognized the handwriting immediately, and that just made her more reluctant to take action.

she continued to watch you, which was about as entertaining as watching any other citizen in new york.

one day, though, she didn't have a choice. fury called her in again, and she showed up, tired, bored, and rather annoyed.

"what do you want now?"

"someone's in a good mood," fury comments, eyebrow raised. "that's no way to talk to your boss."

"spit it out."

fury sighs. "any updates?"

"no." natasha's sentences are clipped. she's not used to such tasks; no fighting, no disguises, no breaking into buildings. "i don't know why you need to keep an eye on her. she's just like any other citizen."

fury's eye narrows. "you're leaving out an important detail."

natasha stiffens. she holds eye contact with fury in a silent staring contest, one daring the other to give up. eventually she sighs, not finding a reason not to share. she brings a hand into her pocket, resurfacing with the message from you. "she knows she's being watched. what i don't understand is why she doesn't attack, with that knowledge."

"you're smart enough to know." fury takes the piece of paper, reviewing it. "if she's being watched, she'll lay low. and if she knows it's you, specifically, she's not going to try anything. especially since, from what i know, you two have some.. history."

natasha clenches her jaw.

"would you be able to face her again, natasha?" fury asks, watching the redhead's every movement. "if i asked you to talk to her, to try to bring her over to work with us, will you be able to? or is your past with her too-"

natasha abruptly stands. "i will talk to her tomorrow, fury. and then this mission is considered accomplished."

fury watches her walk away with a slight frown.

so natasha stands in front of your door. she'd watched you enter it only a few minutes before she followed. she hesitates. her hand creeps towards the doorknob as she takes a deep breath.

this was a mission. an order. personal issues must be ignored.

she puts a wary hand on the gun on it's holster and knocks.

natasha waits. a second. another. the soft shuffling of footsteps nearing the door. and then the door opens, she hears the click of a gun and raises her own, finding herself staring at a face she hadn't seen for years.

you vs her. gun vs gun. one pointed at the other's head.

"you're late," you say, voice low.

"i wasn't aware there was a time scheduled," natasha replies before stepping in uninvited and slamming the door closed behind her.

the two of you circle each other, but it's impossible to distinguish predator from prey. both have hungry eyes, both eager to attack and conquer. it's less like a hunt and more like two wolves battling for the position of alpha.

natasha grabs at your gun, seizing it, only for you to mirror her actions. it results in a mere switching of weapons — nothing lost, nothing gained.

you scoff —and then pull her closer by the gun and kick her hard in the stomach. she stumbles back, sees you discard your gun, and catches your punch by the wrist. she pulls, turns, and elbows your face twice, followed by a kick aimed at your head but you dodge. you come up with a well-aimed punch to her stomach, causing natasha to groan more in surprise than pain.

you grab her by the collar, throwing her against the wall. natasha hits a couple of picture frames, which fall down and shatter. natasha rolls as she hits the ground, coming up standing to ram into you.

the two of you exchange punches and kicks, the room filled with grunts of pain from when one lands a successful hit. natasha pushes you towards that couch with a grunt, your hip painfully colliding with the backrest. you grab her collar in retaliation, doing some sort of backflip over the sofa and sending natasha crashing into the glass table.

droplets of blood hit the floor as the two of you end up in broken glass. your hand creeps towards a shard and you slash at a still-recovering natasha, only for her to duck and spin you around, pinning your hand against your back.

you shift the shard of glass to your free hand but she finds your weak spot and manages to pin you down against the kitchen table. her hands wrap around your neck while yours threaten to slit her throat.

both of you struggle, faces red and sweaty, a silent conversation with your eyes. you relent to her, tapping her shoulder thrice as a sign of surrender.

"get your fucking hands off me," you pant, harshly pushing her away and hunching over with a hand to your bloody nose.

natasha rests against the wall, laughing wheezily, clutching her ribs. "you've become better, Львенок (little lion)."

"and you're rusty, красный (red)," you shoot back, slightly limping to bring out a bottle of alcohol from a cupboard.

"seriously?" natasha scolds you.

"as if you're not going to ask for some."

she rolls her eyes. "you got me. get me a glass."

the two of you clink glasses as if you hadn't just tried to kill each other a couple seconds before.

"i know why you're here," you start.

"why's that?"

"you want me to join you and your little group."

natasha shakes her head in amusement. "fury does, not me. although it is nice to see you again."

"i wish i could say the same."

she waits.

"...it is nice to see you again."

she smirks in satisfaction. you reply with a glare. "so you know why i'm here, are you coming with me?" natasha continues.

"no."

"why not?"

"i don't want to fight anymore."

"i'd beg to differ considering you'd just tried to kill me."

"i did not try to kill you."

"right."

you sigh. "we come from similar backgrounds, you understand. if hydra or.. quite possibly, the red room find me again, i'm dead. as an escapee and a traitor. also, i don't want to be in a group with your little boyfriends."

"do not ever call them that again," natasha scoffs. "and you worry for nothing - i'm still living and breathing and walking and talking, aren't i? you'll be fine, you'll be safe, but yes, there are rules," she adds, beating you to your question.

"y/n, come on. you'll have privacy and you and your identity will be protected."

you stare at her.

"you'll be able to fight on missions. train. you'll barely be bored."

you keep staring.

"i'll be there," she smirks.

you hold a little staring contest until you abruptly stand up, downing your glass and wiping your mouth. "when do we go?"

"that was easier than i expected," natasha teases.

"don't even think about it. i'm only doing it to get you off my back."

"right. pack your bags." she looks around at the mess. "or, don't. let's hope no one comes knocking."

[dragonmasterhiccup]

*UPDATED 11/02*

You can find the headcanons I use here!

NEW RP/ANON THREADS: OPEN

See below for details and blog rules!

(((IF ABOVE STATES AS CLOSED: Anons can still ask Hiccup questions, but I can't take on any additional storytelling anons or threads at the moment. If we already have one established, we can keep going until it concludes. When things have calmed down, I'll switch it back to 'open'. Please let me know if you have any questions!

RULES:

I'm going to try to keep this short and sweet, but as time goes things will be added.

My blog is family friendly, please keep content PG! No language is preferred, but any strong language will not be answered, and only deleted.

I will do limited threads, just mainly focusing on asks/anons. Things are limited because I work a full time job, and I am married and have some additional responsibilities.

I have 10+ years of RP experience. Open to M!A and to anons! Any asks that do not follow the rules will be deleted. I will try to message you privately if I can, but if done on anon I will have to make a public post.

I only ship Hiccup with Astrid, and write him as straight. Please refrain from sending any asks hinting or stating that Hiccup has flirted/kissed any other characters.

HOWEVER, sometimes there is undeniable chemistry, in which case I may be open to shipping the two characters.

Anon/RP asks may be reblogged, but if it's an RP thread that gets reblogged by me and the other writer, please only like so it can easily be kept track of.

If you're an anon, and pretending to be a character from the movies or shows: if there are multiple different anons portraying the same character, it gets confusing fast. I may not respond if I already have another thread going with another anon for that character.

No godmodding, no grabbing or dragging Hiccup [without permission], no controlling Hiccup's or Toothless' actions, and no smut.

Mun is 21+, I just like to keep things clean.

For anything coming into my inbox: unless it's specified for the mun, please make sure it's something Hiccup can respond or react to in some way.

You do not have to match my length, however, if all of your replies are essentially one to three sentences, I also struggle with responding to those as well. I work a very mentally demanding job, so sometimes I can't fill in the blanks, unless the muse is particularly strong with our thread.

If you're interested in bringing in more characters from the HTTYD universe, just discuss it with me first! I will extend the same courtesy to you if I'm interested in bringing in more characters from your muses world.

Writing styles: For some reason, when someone writes with me and they're using first person pov (I, me) it's extremely off-putting. I've tried to continue despite that, but for some reason it just causes the Hiccup muse to shut down 🤷‍♀️ Third person works best, since rp is telling two different characters perspectives.

The only exception is if you're asking Hiccup a question, and it's not in conjunction with quotation marks for dialogue, I have zero issue with that.

I only add this because it's come up a few times: Hiccup is the type to ask questions when he thinks of them. If your character sits down and says "You must have some questions for me, ask away!" I tend to panic because everything we've ever written together immediately drops from my brain. I also use the app to write more than my computer, and it can be difficult to track down and reread our threads. Please try not to ask this of Hiccup unless it pertains to something that was revealed in your current response, I'd really appreciate it!

Brief list of storylines I will not write or take part in can be found here. This list will be updated if more come to mind or come up in conversation.

Do not be stressed to reply quickly, real life always comes first!

Got an idea for a thread? Let me know! I love to plot!

Want to bug Hiccup a bit? Send some fun anons! Ask him questions!

Don't know what to ask? Check out the tag #ask memes on my blog for inspiration!

Have questions for me? Message me! I'm open for chatting.

Mun fc is Rapunzel!

As for all of the HTTYD media, I have seen the movies, short films, and Race to the Edge. I have also read the books, and The Serpent's Heir. I have not had an opportunity yet to watch Defenders of Berk or Riders of Berk just yet.

Thanks for reading! Send me a "My ring's outside" so I can know you read this all the way through!)))

[beardedmrbean]

The CEO of Telegram was just arrested in a parisian airport for a lack of moderation on his platform. As always, love how proactive my country is when it comes to stifling liberty.

We're just abandoning this over in France then, it had a nice long run as a slogan I guess.

Let's have a look

Pavel Durov, the co-founder and chief executive of the messaging service Telegram, was arrested and detained on Saturday, according to French media reports.

The Paris prosecutor's office told NPR that a statement about the matter will be issued on Monday.

Law enforcement agents reportedly arrested Durov at Le Bourget Airport outside of Paris, where he was arriving on his private jet from Azerbaijan, according to multiple French press reports.

AFP reported that an arrest warrant had been issued for Durov as a result of an investigation into whether he has failed to crack down on illegal activity including drug trafficking, the promotion of terrorism and fraud on Telegram.

The French newspaper Le Monde reported that the probe is examining whether Durov has refused to cooperate with law enforcement over issues including cyberscams and the spread of child pornography on Telegram.

The Russian Embassy in France released a statement saying it had asked French authorities for an explanation for Durov's detention and asked that his rights be protected and consular access be granted.

Durov, a 39-year-old Russian-born billionaire, is a dual citizen of France and the United Arab Emirates, where he runs Telegram, the Dubai-based messaging service with nearly 1 billion global users.

He is considered “Russia’s Mark Zuckerberg” for in 2007 founding VKontakte, Russian for “in touch,” a Facebook copycat site that became the country’s most popular social network.

In 2013, Durov and his brother, Nikolai, launched Telegram. Pavel Durov fled Russia a year later after his refusal to hand over data on Ukrainian users of VK to Russian authorities.

When Telegram first started, cryptocurrency fanatics were quick to embrace it, and the app has since risen to become one of the most popular messaging services in the world. It has emerged as a go-to place for unfiltered updates on the wars in Ukraine and Gaza.

Telegram has a laissez-faire approach to moderating content, which has drawn concern from researchers, who have noted how misinformation, extremism and illicit activity, like drug sales and child pornography, often goes unmoderated.

Some experts have even suspected that Telegram might have links to the Kremlin, which Durov called “inaccurate” in an interview in March with the Financial Times, the first time the reclusive CEO has spoken to the press since 2017.

On Durov’s Instagram, he is often photographed bare-chested, showing off his muscular physique in desert landscapes or posing in infinity pools.

He is regularly seen sporting all-black outfits in an apparent nod to the character Neo from the movie The Matrix.

Content on Telegram ricochets around the web when it is shared to other social networks, where it can often be subject to the content moderation rules of other platforms. But Durov has long championed Telegram as an anything-goes service, with Durov’s supporters hailing him as a free speech hero. ______________________________

Cyberscams are everywhere, got 8 new asks in my inbox since signing out last night and 6 are cyberscams, CP is a different story if that's getting a pass then that's 100% something that needs to be fixed.

I don't use telegram so I don't know what level of moderation if any exists on there, I do know that's one of the ways people get things that normally wouldn't make their way out into the world out there which is good for real information.

[wachtelspinat]

hi! i found your blog like an hour ago (though i've been familiar with your art for a /long/ time; when i read that ask you got earlier about you being THE tf2 artist, i thought to myself, "wow, really? the only tf2 art i can think of that's deserving of that description is [vividly pictures YOUR fanart]" -- so when i checked your art tag it was genuinely like encountering a celebrity, heh. all this to say, you really ARE The TF2 Artist. it's an honor to finally properly follow your blog :]). i've been reading your posts about your personal journeys (both physical and emotional/self-conceptual) and i've just been... really really moved by it all? your openness with feeling disconnected with your art, and then how you've slowly come to reconnect with it in a new way and restructure it back into your life... it just fills me with so much catharsis and hope. because life is hectic and things change so much and the way that one creates art as an adult is going to be different than how one created art as a teenager... so to see you acknowledge that fact and then share your own journey? ahh god like i said... it's really profound. i'm a lot younger than you (i turn 20 next month, actually!), so you've experienced so much more to life than me, and hearing how you've struggled with and then gotten out of so many of the fears that i have is just... deeply, deeply inspiring to me. especially your latest posts about your time in australia, and how it's always been something you've wanted to do but spent so many years stuck/anxious/stagnant... and how now you've finally actually *done it* and it's *real* and that you had the most amazing incredible time that exceeded all your expectations?!?! and not only that, but how finally achieving this thing you've always wanted changes the narrative of how you previously defined yourself... that now maybe you ARE the sort of person who can do the things you love and have the things that make you happy... maybe i'm projecting too much here heh god but my point is. it just made me very emotional and so VERY very utterly elated for you :'] and just augh. i am so glad you've had this incredible experience. and like i've said half a dozen times by now (because it's just so true) it is just. so inspiring to me. everything you've shared with such honesty and humanity has been just so profoundly moving to see and it fills me with so much hope. thank you for sharing your journey with us, and thank you as always, past and present and future, for your art. i hope this message isn't too terribly parasocial, and if it is, i apologize ;_; and i hope you're having a lovely day!!!

hey there !

this kind of hit me like a truck but in the most positive way, and i am not exaggerating when i say what you wrote also brought me to tears.

first of all thanks for your generous words regarding my art and sdkjfhkjas i still cannot wrap my head around the idea that you (and at least one other person) thinks about me as THE tf2 artist because... i like my art just fine, it's just there are other folks out there, with their almost god-like tf2 art, meanwhile i just spammed y'all with my sniperxspy art and some random silly stuff over the years... but i love it, so thank you so so much, the thought that you guys dig my art this much will always knock me right off my feet in the most positive way 🧡🧡🧡

ok so, the next part took me a while to formulate because how do i respond to such a heartfelt message in a way that shows my gratitude just right? like i want to thank you again for reaching out and writing all this, but also for taking your time and reading through my blog. i know that everything i post here is open to the internet and a lot of ppl, so sharing personal information (in form of updates in life) is not always the best idea. but i always admired ppl on here that were able to reflect on their lives and share what they've learned. even if it's just somethig as simple as "and after each day comes another and it will be different, for the worse or the better, but different at least", which, falling on the right ears at a specific time, can change perspective (it did for me on multiple occasions, this and other takes, because hearing from ppl who go through similar things is a sad reality, but also such a connecting experience). so in a way, sharing is caring, and so talking about life experiences, especially when they are kind of abstract, like art blocks, depressions, can really open some unexpected doors.

so what also happened after being open about vulnerable situations in life was ppl reaching out. and this was really something that left me so speechless. i had several ppl who took their time and wrote to me about their experiences and ways of coping strategies and other helpful actions. and sometimes they just acknowledged what i wrote which was such a warm gesture that made me feel seen. and i cannot put into words how much that meant to me when i felt at my lowest a few years back. let's be honest for a second, on here we hardly know each other, even if we are mutuals, but that doesn't stop us from reaching out to one another because that is such a big part of the human experience.

sorry for rambling but it is hard, at least for me, just trying to fully grasp it all. it makes me so happy to read that catching up on the things i wrote about my life resonated with you on a deeper level and that it gave you something back in exchange - catharsis and hope. i am deeply touched by your words and your ability to grasp the essence of what i tried to convey, it feels almost surreal to have it summarized and reflected so clearly when my original thoughts were scattered all over my blog over a span of multiple months, years even. like, really, thank you so much for all of this, the time and thoughts you put into your message, your genuine expression of your feelings and joy on my behalf, it means a lot and i fail to put my thanks into words, idk... i feel seen again. and no worries, i don't think this is too parasocial, after all i put my thoughts out there, and you just happened to read them 🧡

so again and again, thank you so much, and i also hope you have a lovely day <3

[atticollateral]

Autism Assessment Update (bc it's been almost 3 months since I mentioned it haha oops) (it's a novel. you've been warned.)

tagging @examishbookwyrm bc they did comment on my autism assessment post I made in MARCH!! n i didn't respond...(adhd moment) get honourable mention'd.

--- SOOOO. BIG ASS PERSONAL LIFE UPDATE!!! I have... literally the worst news? Like the worst-worst news I think I will ever share. So imma start from the beginning :> [I detail everything about the assessment in this post. The process, the assessment itself, and the after.]

So. This is part of the NS Pilot Program for assessing people who were going to age out of the early-childhood-assessment waitlist (because hey! it is a 5 year long wait! haha!) which was led by NS Health and the Gov. of Canada (who paid for all the assessments.) It's safe to say that NOBODY is happy! (if you look it up you will find articles on how... awful it's been. Also if you look up articles I might have left out details bc my brain is VERY SPOTTY bc i am enraged) but anyway,

The first part of this is they had been calling my mom during the day; my mother had been working days. So she wasn't picking up. And they weren't answering her calls back or her messages! Already a big red flag. Because they can't get ahold of her they call me. Me! The person they're going to assess, who, at the time, was 18, and perfectly capable of consenting, as an adult, and taking care of their own medical records and appointments and such. They go "Hello, is this (deadname's) mom?" And I go "This is (deadname); and my name is [Chosen]" and they go "Oh, Well. Can you get your mother to call us?" And I said in a tone I believe was very clearly annoyed bc wtf? "Oh, no, you can tell me whatever you're going to tell her!" They tell me "Well we're looking to get you into the NS pilot program for autism assessments" yada yada "is that something you'd be interested in?" And me being me (poor and reasons to think I'm autistic and being on the waitlist) go "yeah!" AND THIS FUCKING WOMAN GOES "ok then get your mom to call us. this is the date. we need her to confirm." and I go "...why?" and they go "we just need to talk to her." and I go "...why can't you just talk to me?" and she just repeats herself so I go "um. ok. well. you have a good day? bye?" and hang up. So i'm simmering; bc I am literally an adult. I don't need my mom. I should be treated like an adult and I'm getting infantilized. I got the woman's name and # so I give it to my mom. It takes another month to get a date for the assessment approved bc they STILL WONT ANSWER HER CALLS OR MESSAGES.

My mother was required to do two prerequisite assessments a week or two before my in-person one. One over the phone and one over zoom. I am above the age of 16 (as stated) and perfectly capable of consent and being an informant. (you are legally allowed to consent to a majority of medical assessments in NS when you turn 16 w/o alerting ur parents, and clearly allowed to do that over the age of 18 as that is age of majority.) So i'm just miffed. They tell her not to tell me anything. She says fuck that (thank the gods) and so she tells me things they tell her. So the night before the assessment I help her with the form they MAKE HER FILL OUT before the assessment like "when did your child start walking/running" "when did they learn to ride a bike" "when did they start talking/writing" stuff like that. and I go ok. sure. autism can show in early childhood, it's a neurological developmental disorder. I get it. Even though autistic individuals can have average, slowed, or accelerated development (IT'S ALMOST LIKE ITS LITERALLY CALLED AUTISM SPECTRUM DISORDER) There's a question that catches me off guard. "what is your child's dominant hand" ...i'm sorry. back it up. *Yes.* There are studies that say many people who have ASD are left handed or ambidextrous. But oh. My. Gods. Above. THAT IS NOT GROUNDS FOR DIAGNOSIS; and you can also ASK THE KID during the assessment! What kind of question?! [I am right-hand predominant but I am ambidextrous.]

I move on.

I go into the assessment. On the table; the dr's introductory sheet in a photo frame. His title sits atop the document with a head, MADE OF BLUE PUZZLE PIECES alarm bells alarm bells alarm bells oh my fucking god help me jesus christ please help me i promise i'll believe in you if you help me right now please please plea "Hi!" A woman greets us, sitting in an office with the door open. I don't know her name. She doesn't stand from her desk. "I'll be with you in a moment." I laugh awkwardly. My mom says ok as the woman shuts her door. I tell my mom "I hate it here; can we go home?" Because I genuinely feel unsafe; I'm shaking. She laughs softly and goes "It'll be okay." So I put a brave face on bc I love my mom and she's nice and wait for the lady. She calls us in a few minutes later. I don't remember her introducing herself. I don't remember her offering a handshake or any other "polite" gesture. That would be something important to do, and I would have remembered it. She tells us how long it will be and a lay down of what's gonna happen and asks MY MOTHER FOR CONSENT TO FILM ME. Not ME for consent to film ME, an 18 year old. My mom turns to me confused and asks me if I'm okay with it instead. I go "yeah." (I was not okay with it); the woman told us the assessment would not happen if they could not film it. So I agreed; giving *assent* rather than *consent* was something I was pissed off about then and there. The woman asks HER if she'd like to stay so my mom asks ME if she wants me to stay, I hug my mom after I ask her to leave because I'm an adult and can handle myself. I don't need my mom to be there. I sit down. I have my pompompurin stuffed animal with me and a messenger bag with pens and stuff in it because I know there are things to write and don't like using other people's things. She doesn't ask about the bag. She sets up the camera and such, explaining that she'll have to occasionally turn to her laptop to make sure the recording is still going. I have pompom in my lap along with a fidget while she talks. She says something along the lines of "um, you'll want to put that away, you'll need your hands." And I go, rather firmly, something along the lines of; "I'll put it away when I need to use my hands. I am focusing on you right now." To which she seems surprised and goes "um... okay, that's fine." And continues on. (Was she not expecting an adult to have clear boundaries and be able to state their needs?) She offhandedly mentions something about [Dr] perhaps coming in to see me at some point during the assessment. My heart drops. She's not the doctor? She isn't the psychiatrist? What the hell?

The assessment begins. They're giving me tests for children, she said she made it harder. I disagree. I find the tasks easy. Simple games/puzzles. I tell her I like puzzles. She keeps throwing positive affirmation at me; I become annoyed with it after awhile because I know she's only doing it to make me continue doing the activity. It's common for people who work with children. She is infantilizing me. I know I was thinking it subconsciously.

The tests are not geared towards my age range, I notice immediately. I become miffed, going "these are too easy for me so far" or something to that effect. She laughs at me. I become upset. We start the reading part of the test. I read to show reading speed and comprehension. I read out loud to show my pronunciation. I read words that don't exist to show my reasoning skills when it comes to language. I am in my 5th year of high school (I struggle with school). This task is mundane and annoying. I feel like I am in third grade. I feel infantilized. I feel like the tests aren't going to be accurate. I am annoyed. I do it fast as I can to get it over with. Some of the reading pieces she makes me do multiple times.

We begin the mathematics part. I am not good at mathematics. She has upped the difficulty for the mathematics, she tells me. I begin; The first test is a Working Memory test; listing numbers she reads to me in a specific order. I am bad at it after the more convoluted ones. Some of the work is recognizing shapes and patterns. There is addition, fractions, multiplication and division questions. She points out I'm 'doing the test wrong' multiple times. I tell her that this test is stupid (or something to that effect) due to the structure. She laughs at me. There are a few tests I can't do or become quickly annoyed with (naming mean, median, and mode, prime numbers, fractions.) As I haven't done them since 11th grade level (I took a different math course and haven't done math since I finished my credits 2 school years ago.) We break for lunch after doing half of the mathematics.

I return to continue with the mathematics. I am still annoyed even after eating lunch. I had complained to my mother how it felt like torture: No eraser, No Calculator, no Tools, and no asking for help (She is not allowed to give me help, even if I don't know something.) I am on the brink of actual tears in frustration because I cannot receive help. I understand the potential why, but I think it's idiotic.

We begin the writing and listening comprehension. I am made to write an essay on a game I like and why I like it, I am given 10 minutes. I write it about Minecraft and it's offshoots. For listening comprehension, there are a few tests. I tell her about certain parts of what i've heard. Most of them are ads, so telling her what they say is easy for me, because it feels like slush and I have trained my ears to pick up more important information because of APD (Auditory Processing Disorder). She repeats them a few times to get me to tell her more. There are more working memory tests. Something with shapes, form, and colours. One about things she's listed. There's a test where I tell her a story in a picture book based on photos only. I am becoming tired. There's a test where I need to copy a picture. I am not allowed to trace the picture. I am not allowed to hold the picture. I am not allowed to use a tool. She says something about how I should like it because I told her I am an artist. I start going on while begrudgingly doing the test that this is horrible, this isn't what art is, and i'd like to not be doing it this way because it is impractical. She laughs at me again. I am annoyed. I get to take another short break after that.

There is another test when I come back with shapes. I see there are 8 pieces and a grid I must put them in; observing the grid, I go "I need all 8 pieces." She gives me 4 pieces. I frown. I say "I need all 8 of them, can I have them please?" as I put the 4 she gave me into the grid. She hands me 2. I put them in. I repeat myself. "I know I need all 8 of them. Can you give them to me please?" She gives me 1. I become insanely frustrated at that point. "What is this?" I go, "Can I have the last piece?" I ask her annoyedly, and she gives it to me. She's smiling. She thinks this is funny? I put it in the place. I rearrange the pieces into a nicer pattern in the grid because she annoyingly gave me the pieces while she takes her notes.

There is an activity where I have to tell her a story using 5 random pieces of garbage. She shows me how to do it first when I already understand the premise and was going to do it after the verbal instruction and presentation of the items. I know it is to assess my imaginative play. I am an 18 year old artist. This is easier than breathing to me. I do it begrudgingly because I am embarrassed to do it. She laughs at me again. I am so annoyed at this point I am thinking the most angry thoughts. What is her issue??? I don't say anything while I wait for the other tests.

I am presented with a test with over 100 questions. I say out loud multiple times "I don't have OCD" to multiple questions I've been asked before to assess me for OCD. She says something about 'Don't think about it. just answer.' and I say something along the lines of "I've been to therapy since I was about 12. I do therapy speak. I know what the questions are asking me. I can't not think about it." She scoffs at me. I am so irritated. Many of the questions ask me if I am suicidal. Many of the questions ask me if I am paranoid. There are questions about ego, and questions about self-worth, questions about poverty, questions about things that don't pertain (to see if I'm paying attention.) I finish the test. She asks if I answered honestly. I say "I think so." But I my answers will be different tomorrow. They're always different later. That's how surveys work.

One of the last tests is asking me questions and having me answer. Things like "do you have friends?" "how do you feel about relationships?"; I ask her "Well, how do you define relationships? Are you in any? Are you asking me about friendship or dating?" She tells me she has a partner; a husband if I recall. I say something about marriage and romance. She asks me more questions about feelings, boundaries, relationships, and experiences in my life. It is the last test.

We leave the room to talk to my mother in the waiting room. I have not seen [Dr] once. Girl asks me what my pronouns are. I tell her it/its. She complains. I tell her too bad flat out. We leave.

I only learn upon getting home that her name is Alison.

I wait a month for my draft results. I had to get my teacher to fill out a form. I had to sign a consent form for them to do that which they made me do digitally after the assessment and CLEARLY wanted my mother to sign. She gets me to sign it because I'm an adult. She understands.

My mom sits me down. She goes "You aren't going to like this." I frown. "I'm not autistic?" She nods. "You aren't. But they said you have 3 or 4 other things."

Alarm bells again. I get her to bring up my draft assessment on the computer for me to read. I am enraged. They refer to me as "transgendered". They misgendered me. There were numerous, insane typos that would be easy to catch on the first pass.

I begin work on an Essay/Paper telling them why their assessment is bullshit and how I meet the criteria for autism spectrum disorder. (I READ THE DSM-5 AND DSM-5-TR FOR THIS CRAP.) I also berate them the whole time for their behaviour, the nature of the assessment, and lack of care. A week or so later I get the final draft. They still misgendered me; and there are still typos. I get my mom to email it to me and I send it to multiple of my friends, my Therapist, and give her my consent to share it with my Psychiatrist and anyone else she sees fit with her discretion with the password for the protected document, along with a screenshot pointing out the most glaring typo (being misgendered.) My therapist and psychiatrist show it to the Autism Lead in their district with my consent.

I receive an overwhelmingly positive onslaught of "this assessment is bullshit! You SHOULD be angry." The autism lead tells my therapist I do likely have autism based on what was shown and told to her, and to get a second opinion (as she can't diagnose me without assessing me herself). I tell my therapist more about the assessment. She does some research.

The Psychometrist (someone who administers psychological tests/assessments) is underqualified during time of assessment.

Medical Negligence.

[Dr.] Is clearly on grounds to be tried for Medical Malpractice.

I am now working on submitting a complaint and finishing my paper.

I may potentially be involved in legal trouble against the psychologist I never even got to see or speak to.

Fuck that guy.

[obliqueblade]

Update from a Friend

Hello everyone, 

I want to thank everyone for their messages and likes on the previous post. I was nervous about posting and even more upset about having to do so. 

I want to talk about Oblique though. I really want to talk about her, but I’m not sure where to start. 

I guess the best place would be when I met her. 

Back in 2020, when absolutely nothing was going wrong, I met Oblique on the first day of our in-person classes at our University. It was also her 19th birthday, and I didn’t know then that I’d only have a little less than a year before the Oblique I knew would change. 

Oblique was late to the class, and when she got there she looked at me with my short dyed hair and audibly stated “Ahh, a safe queer,” and plopped into the seat next to me. Again, on the first day of class, in her first year. Thankfully, the professor had been in her department and had also found it funny. 

From then on, Oblique and I were nearly inseparable despite having two very different majors. See, I was majoring in English- and although I dropped out, Oblique continued her degree in mathematics. 

Yup. Math. 

Let’s just say our homework assignments always looked very different. 

For that year, Oblique and I did practically everything together, and it was through her that I found communities like the Dream SMP, but mainly that of Technoblade. While I never got really into it- Oblique and I would make whole events out of watching Techno’s streams especially when we had gotten exposed to COVID-19 and had to quarantine together for two weeks in an apartment on campus. Thankfully, neither of us had covid, instead, we spent those two days mainly goofing off. Sometimes, interrupted by Oblique trying to explain whatever math she was learning, which I vehemently hated, but she tried nonetheless.

After that semester, we went our separate ways back home for the summer. However, we did still see each other frequently. I have spent the past three years looking back, trying to see what signs I missed, and what I could’ve done sooner for Oblique. 

The first time I remember Oblique showing signs of being sick was maybe two weeks before her official diagnosis, but there's no doubt she was suffering long before then. Oblique had a rough life before she turned 17, and as a result, she often hid how she was feeling. Either physical or mental, Oblique always tried to power through it. 

The day I realized something was wrong I had just picked Oblique up and we were headed back to my house, when I realized she had spent most of the ride holding her chest. Normally, we’d be screaming out our emo songs the whole way back, but she had been pretty quiet the whole ride. She kept her eyes closed and was tapping her other hand. At first, I thought she was having a panic attack, since I had seen her have those before and tapping was a way to keep herself grounded, but this was different. 

I ended up pulling into some parking lot and trying to figure out what was wrong, but even now I’m not sure if Oblique was able to hear me let alone speak. I don’t know how long it was before she finally was okay, but after she laughed it off as an old asthma attack and they were going to be getting her a new inhaler soon. 

She didn’t answer when I asked how long those had been happening. 

A few weeks later she told me she had cancer. 

We were meant to be rooming together that year, and she called me to come over a week before the move-in date because things would be very different than we had planned. I can’t remember how exactly I felt at that moment either. I think just overwhelmingly numb. 

It didn’t feel real, and even now it doesn’t. 

Oblique was the strongest person I have ever known. She had survived so much and made it farther than anyone thought she would have. 

I think that, coupled with just how much she hid how badly it was affecting her meant a lot of people thought she would survive. She would be the one to beat the odds. 

The first time I can remember her showing how affected she was, was right before she was going to start chemo. It was a few weeks after her diagnosis, and she had asked me to take her to get her hair cut. Oblique's hair meant a lot to her. She grew up in a situation where having shorter hair was safer and easier, so when she got out, she started to let it grow out. My therapist explained that for lots of people who survived those conditions would hold physical reminders of what they survived. By that point, it was nearly at her waist. I asked if there was an option to have her do a cold cap, but she didn’t even ask if it was. She told me that her hair had always been a testament to what she had survived and that if she didn’t survive having her long hair would defeat the purpose.

So, we went. And she chopped it all off and donated it. That night when we had made it back to the apartment, Oblique went to her room without saying anything. For the rest of the night, I pretended that I couldn’t hear her crying to herself. I wanted to go in and comfort her, but Oblique didn’t want anyone to see her crying, and I didn’t want to make things worse. 

The only other time I saw her breakdown was when Technoblade passed. I do want to tell that story at some point, but right now it's still just too fresh. I think that coupled with one of the girls she had made friends with also passing a few days later was too much for her. Up until the time she got covid, that was the closest Oblique came to passing.

As far as Hermitcraft goes, I am extremely grateful to it. After everything, I really do think being a part of the community and being able to watch a full season like that did wonders for her. I’m ashamed to admit that I wasn’t aware she was even writing this fic. Oblique was constantly working on something, and it wasn’t uncommon for her to hide it. We all thought it was letters for us, and while that was a part of it, the fic was a surprise. 

She mentioned in a post that she wanted to get Smallishbeans, or Joels, TCG card to add to her collection of hermits, and I am waiting to see when/if they get more currently. 

In concerns to the fic, Who are you, really? I have at this point read up to the last chapter she posted. The next chapter as well as two of the later ones are near completion- with all others mapped out and highly detailed on how they should go. I haven’t brought myself to begin working on it other than that so far. I would like to at least get the next chapter out before Halloween, maybe two if it isn’t too hard. I should mention that I am not as well educated in Hermitcraft as Obligue, so some things I will have to double check which may take a while. I did take the time to read the comments as well on Ao3, and I’ll probably have to make a post there so not everyone finds out from the comments. 

I’m writing this a few days before posting it, and have been working on it for a while so if it seems a bit disjointed that’s why. It’s very difficult to write this all out at once. 

I was originally going to post this on her birthday in early September, but I didn’t have the heart to. I spent that day with her family, and we held a small birthday party for her. She would’ve been 23. I’ll probably post about that at a different time as well.

Thank you all once again for supporting Oblique. I’m glad she was able to experience a community like Hermitcraft. 

See ya’ll later.