#I don't recall ever seeing this meme with them and come on it's perfect

[nekrosmos]

Hope this hasn't been done before 😔​✌️​

Twitter | Ko-FI

[aeipathcy]

11. what’s something that you don’t get to express with your oc often? [ for reanne! ]

MEME┊accepting.

What’s something that you don’t get to express with your oc often?

OOC. tldr, ended up being an unorganized ramble that probably isn't very well organized or cohesive. I lost sight of some ideas as I was typing (big sad).

call out/acknowledge Reanne's bulimic eating habits if muses end up going out to eat somewhere

sibling dynamic conversations/conversations about siblings

idk how to express this but maybe someone noticing something behind the confidence she always has? I don't think muses really see her glaring issues despite how open she is with a lot of troubling things.

I believe I've mentioned this one in the past on random blog posts but I haven't gotten many opportunities for other muses to actually call out how abnormal Reanne's food-related (bulimic) tendencies are or even just acknowledge said abnormality (she still has them, and yes she is very stagnant with her therapy—honestly at this point I believe she stopped going since it wasn't helping, just haven't made it official until this post ig). Like, I can allude to them but they're never the focus of threads outside internal thoughts. I recall there was one muse I was able to kind of touch on that with but that mun decided to cut ties with me out of the blue. I was saddened by it since we had a good, but not so perfect/smooth dynamic building which is prime for exploring not so nice aspects of muses.

Lately, I haven't done anything related to it, but it is still a huge aspect of how Reanne copes with and processes her emotions (eating to chase away anxiety or sorrowful moods, depriving as form of punishment/dealing with guilt, purging out of guilt when she eats too much, freaking out when she weighs herself despite knowing she's supposed to weigh a little more to be healthy, constantly hating her body despite progress, etc.). Despite being better about anger, lashing out, and trauma dumping, Reanne cannot seem to cut the unhealthy eating patterns out of her life. She still carries trauma related to her body and appearance no matter how confident she acts—her outward confidence and almost ideal skinny body shape make it hard to actually see this, especially since Reanne would never step out of her house if she felt less than presentable. And considering she still obsesses over making sure her freckles are never visible, there's obviously still an issue that's unresolved there. I mean, Reanne is a walking contradiction that's hard to explain.

Even though Keith outwardly shows his issues more, Reanne is probably in a much deeper trench than he ever would be as the difference in their support systems is massive—she doesn't have anyone to help her through any of her impulsive binges or get through emotional spikes, and she is much more likely to relapse because of how quickly she turns to binge-purging as a coping mechanism. She cannot forgive her family for everything they've done to her, and she cannot confide in them, making it more than difficult to combat a habit that's been ingrained into her since well before her teenage years. Fashion industry, going out to eat, and clothes shopping are all very large potential triggers depending on her mood. Kinda forgot about this modern verse addition (alcohol cw, binge drinking cw, alcohol poisoning cw) but she also has an alcohol issue (underage drinking + binge drinker). Thankfully, she doesn't drink, and the most she does is threaten people with the cost of a hospital bill if they try to entice her that way.

This also brings me to a second point I don't get to explore. Sibling dynamics. I don't know what it is, but I want more of these conversations. Reanne's story is definitely triggering for people so I understand if others don't want to write anything that steps on the field of landmines that will come up, but this helps explore underlying drives behind how she acts (as all her responses and beliefs all lead back to her sister and upbringing). I've mentioned it before but Reanne does everything in her power to be someone different from her younger sister, Elanor. She is the older one, but at the same time, she feels completely inferior to Elanor. I have a number of posts talking about the contradiction surrounding this entire sibling relationship so I won't go into it here. Err, maybe I don't but I'm not making a new one or anything anytime soon.

Now that I think about it, nobody has seen behind her outward confidence and demeanor or thought to look beyond it (because of how straightforward she is) except for Keith (mainly because of the lore behind modern verse and he's technically known her for two lifetimes already). I find it funny how Keith is the person who tries to pass lies to hide problems and issues but everyone can see through him and acknowledges his issues, but Reanne is the person who openly shares almost everything so clearly yet nobody really bothers to acknowledge the issues and problems she's been blurting out to the world.

[we-have-bangtan]

Again.

Pairing: Doctor! Yoongi x Patient! Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Crack (??), Ex's, smut

Warning: Swearing, smut (just an old memory)

Synopsis: When Yn is forced to go to the hospital after falling down the stairs of her office. The doctor who was to attend to her was none other than her ex-boyfriend Min Yoongi.

A/n: let me know if you like it! And give me a reblog to support me!!!

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Yn turned over onto her back, her eyes still closed. She wondered silently why her normally soft bed was hard today. With another roll, she landed with a thud on the cold, hard floor, jolting her awake.

When the blinding lights of the room filled her vision, she suddenly regretted opening her eyes. She sat on the floor, rubbing her eyes to clear the sleep from them, oblivious to the drool on her chin. Her eyes opened in confusion when she saw the IV line on her wrist, her gaze following the line, attached to a bottle mounted onto an IV stand.

She sprang to her feet immediately, taking in her surroundings: the IV stand, the white bed, white walls, the hand sanitizer mounted on the wall, the white floor tiles, and the white blinds that kept the sunshine out.

A hospital? She guessed as she took in all the equipment, the machines that beeped every few seconds were a dead giveaway. Is this a private room? She asked herself, trying to find any clue which hospital this was when the door swung open.

Min Yoongi entered the room, wearing a white lab coat and a stethoscope around his neck. He walked over to her side and encouraged her to take a seat on the bed.

"Where am I?" Despite the fact that she already knew the answer, she inquired. "Take a wild guess," Yoongi replied dryly as he flipped through the papers on his clipboard. Yn racked her brain for the name of the hospital; she was certain she knew which one Yoongi had been working at, but her mind was blank, displaying only a buffering page similar to that of a 2004 Dell laptop.

"Did you really hit your head that hard?"  Yoongi said what he was thinking, a little concerned for her safety. "Do you have a headache? Can you recall what you ate for breakfast or what happened just before you passed out? "He questioned.

"My head hurts a bit, so for breakfast, I had cinnamon crunch with milk, and lunch I had a sandwich. Walking down the stairs is the last thing I recall," She responded. All of her responses matched what her coworkers had told them, leading Yoongi to believe that Yn simply didn't know where he worked and that her head was okay.

He was irritated that Yn had no idea where he worked, but he forced his resentment to the back of his mind before informing her that she was in a private room at Asan Medical Centre in Seoul. "Wait, are you serious?" She yelled as she struggled to get out of bed.

"Yes, seriously," he explained, forcing her back onto the bed "You fell down the stairs in your office and one of your colleagues brought you in; you were unconscious for 5 hours; you will need to stay the night so we can run some tests on you; you will need to stay the night so we can run some tests on you," he added. "Why on earth do you have no idea I work at Asan?"He demanded once he was done briefing her.

"I would have noticed if you hadn't blocked me on all your social media pages," Yn said after some thought. She hisses, reminding him why she was blocked in the first place. "I wouldn't have had to block you if you hadn't started tagging me in those dumb Facebook memes," he retorted as he paging one of the nurses to come to change the IV bag.

"Is there something bothering you? Aside from your head," Yoongi inquired, reaching for his fancy click pen, which Yn had given him in college. "You still use that?" She inquired, her gaze falling on the royal blue color of the pen, the brand name has faded over time. He calmly replied, "I started using it once I got my residence, now answer the question."

To search for any injury, Yn moved her limbs around, starting with her feet. She turned them around to look for any discomfort before moving on to her legs, which were still perfect.  She eventually tested her shoulders and despite her best efforts, winced in pain as she raised her left shoulder.

"Left shoulder, okay. Do you feel nauseous?"  Yn shook her head as Yoongi asked more.

"Any ringing in your ears?"

"Nope"

"Is that gray hair on your head?" Yn interjected, pointing to a few strands at the start of Yoongi's hairline. He dismissed her and instead scribbled a note on his clipboard.

"OK, so you don't have any concussion symptoms, your hearing is good, and you're not feeling dizzy and your eyesight is better than ever before considering the fact that you could pick out my gray hair from that far. We still have some blood work to do and I'm putting you on observation tonight in case any symptom pops up, you're free to go home after that," Yoongi informed.

He reasoned that saying anything else would be unprofessional of him. Heading for the door when, "Yah, why am I in a private room in the first place?" Yn intervened, preventing him from leaving. Yoongi replied, turning around to face her, "I figured it would be more convenient for you."

"Bruh, do you have any idea how broke I am," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her stomach. "I ain't a hotshot doctor to be able to afford a private room in Asan Medical Centre," she sneered. "Who said something about you paying?" asked Yoongi. As he returned to her side. "So, who is going to foot the bill?  You? " She inquired, he nodded, causing her jaw to drop. She was perplexed by his words and asked, "Why would you do that?" "What good is it to be a hotshot doctor?" He shrugged.

The mental picture of a very sleepy and confused Yn, with her hair all tangled up and a tiny spot of drool on her face had made him soft, and there was no stopping his heart from falling head over heels for her all over again as he walked out of the room, the smile he had been battling slowly crept into place...

.

.

.

Yoongi peeked into Yn's room after his shift, his shoulders slouching from the stress of his job. He had his coat and stethoscope wrapped over his arm, his hair slightly damp from the shower he had taken, his white t-shirt clinging to his body.

When they were dating, one of Yn's 'rules' was that if he wanted to get close to her, he had to shower after returning from the hospital because she hated the scent of antiseptic. With the scent of antiseptic all over her, he wondered how she was doing.

He discovered her in bed, knees drawn up to her stomach, phone in hand, the screen almost brushing her nose as she mindlessly scrolled through Instagram. Her food, which had been left on the side table, had not been touched.

He warned, walking into the room, "You'll go blind if you keep doing that." Yn's head snapped up at his voice but calmed down when she saw who it was. He drew up a stool next to the bed and checked what Yn had received from the hospital. Soup, kimchi, rice, and pickled radishes were served on the side (Yn hated those). "Is the food not to your liking?" Concerned about her dietary habits, he inquired.

"They don't have any salt or spice," she replied as she stowed her phone. Yoongi grimaced after taking a sip of the soup. There was no salt or pepper and was as bland as raw tofu.

"SEE!!" Yn screamed, delighted that she had been proven right, but Yoongi, not one to concede defeat, put on a display. "How come it's so salty?" His face scrunched up in exaggeration as he groaned. "Stop acting, I can see right through you," Yn said, raising an eyebrow to call him out on his nonsense.

"All right, fine, you're right," Yoongi conceded as Yn yanked the sheets off herself and reached for his shoulders. He thought it was strange, but didn't say anything when she gently rubbed the spot near his collar, the tension in his shoulders dissipating as she applied pressure. He'd always thought Yn had magical hands. It felt like a miracle to have her hands on him again, something he had never expected to feel again.

"Can you tell me what I can do to get you to order me a plate of jjajangmyeon?" Yn asked. Yoongi thought, Darn it, I knew it was a trap, but he was too relaxed to say no. As she worked out the knots in his muscles, he melted under Yn's touch. She was no longer connected to the IV, enabling her to freely move about the room.

"I knew you were only in it for food," he chuckled, moving away from her to grab his phone from his coat, "What else did you think I was in it for?" Yn jested, playing along as she massaged his shoulders.

"Only jjajangmyeon?" He questioned, scrolling through the options, Yn looking at the phone from over his shoulder. "Order some side dishes too," she added, Yoongi let out a groan when Yn put pressure on THE SPOT at the back of his shoulder blade, the sound making Yn blush. "Stop that, people will think we're filing a porno," Yn scolded lightheartedly, continuing her ministering.

"I don't think we need to film any more of those, I have a whole collection already," Yoongi teased. His gummy smile showing up when he felt Yn's hand round his throat, threatening to choke him. "I think it's the other way round," he scoffed. His heart going into dangerous territory.

Yoongi remembered the night he had discovered Yn's choking kink, it had been a very eventful night. He had just come back home from the hospital when he had heard moaning coming from his bedroom, he had walked inside, totally unprepared for the breathtaking view that awaited him.

Watching porn wasn't considered cheating by Yoongi as long as Yn showed him what she was watching so he knew what they were getting into. When he walked in on Yn in his rotating chair, her legs spread out on the armrest, touching herself to a film about choking, he was pleasantly surprised. He went up behind her softly and wrapped his fingers around her throat, not putting much pressure. When Yn groaned for him, he felt himself harden in his pants and murmured, "You like that baby."

"Stop imagining it," Yn snapped, pushing away from Yoongi, "How do you expect me to just stop, those were some great moments of my life," he chuckled when his phone rang. It had something to do with the meal. He went to get the dinner by himself, leaving Yn alone.

When he returned with her dinner, he delivered it to her before saying his goodbyes and preparing to leave. "Enjoy your meal and get some sleep," he added as he gathered his belongings. "Where are you going?" Yn inquired. "Home??" Yoongi answered, taking his phone from the table when Yn stopped him. "Did you have dinner?" she asked, opening up the takeout box to reveal a generous serving of jjajangmyeon.

"Not yet, I was planning on getting some on the way," He answered, waiting for Yn to say anything. "Then you should stay and give me some company, it's not like I can finish all this on my own," She mumbled. "You sure?" Yoongi confirmed, taking his place on the chair as Yn grabbed the chopsticks from the bedside table, letting him have the wooden chopsticks that the restaurant provides.

They both dug into the meal, savoring every mouthful. In the otherwise peaceful hospital, just the sound of them slurping their noodles and the beep of the monitors could be heard. The majority of the patients were fast asleep, and those who were awake were taking special precautions to avoid making any noise.

Yn was the one who broke the stillness by inquiring about Holly. He said, licking his lips to get rid of the sauce, "She's good, I got her a ribbon for her ears the other day." He was intrigued about Yn's cranky cat, Buster, who had scratched Holly once. Yoongi's heart dropped to his stomach as Yn replied, "We had to put him down."

Although he was simply a large, sluggish cat who refused to get his butt off the window pane, Buster had been Yn's pride and joy, her support system. "That must have been difficult," Yoongi paused, unsure of how to express his condolences.

"It had to be done; he was in a lot of agony," Yn shrugged, shaking her head to clear her mind. "How are the boys doing?  I haven't seen them since we broke up" Yoongi's six other friends were the subject of Yn's inquiry. He assured her everyone was ok. "You might see Jungkook tomorrow," he said, explaining that he had taken the day off today. "Does Jungkookie work here?" Yn inquired, quite surprised by the information. "Yes, he's an intern trying to get his residence, surprising isn't it," Yoongi admitted.

Yn burped after she finished her dinner, making Yoongi laugh at how cute she looked. Once Yn had freshened up, Yoongi said, "Ok, now that you've finished eating, I'll go home, and YOU'LL go to sleep." "You always leave," Yn remarked, rolling her eyes. The words weighed heavy on his mind as he tucked her in. On his way out, he turned out the light and gave her one last look before walking away.

Yoongi slouched his shoulders again once he was in his car. The words Yn had just said reverberated in his mind. Since he had broken up with Yn, the words "You always leave" had tormented him. He had been in love with her, yet he was the one who had abandoned her. NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND, HE LEFT HER. It was painful to recall the details of their breakup.

Yn crying into his chest, asking why she wasn't enough. Him holding her as fiercely as he could, not knowing if he'd ever get another chance. His cowardice had broken both of them that night. He'd run away from one of the most precious part of his life, and he still regrets it.

They had broken up because of him. Yoongi always believed Yn deserved someone better than him, she was too good for him. She had yelled at him when he had told her that. Saying that it was her who got to decide who was worth her time and affection, and if h really thought h didn't deserve her then maybe he should make himself deserving, she had said that that was the solution for Yoongi's thoughts, breaking up was not the solution, but he was stubborn as a mule, refusing to see how he was destroying both of them and everything they had.

And now here he was, striving to be less of a wimp than he had been all those years before. He remembered how enraged the boys had been when he told them what he'd done. "Have you gone insane?" All Yoongi could do was nod when Jin Hyung asked. Yes, he'd gone nuts, which was why he'd been insane enough to let her go. He had no problem admitting it.

He cruised around the deserted roads, far too late in the evening for anyone to be out. He considered calling Jin hyung for advice, but he opted against it because he assumed he was already in bed. For the rest of the night, he was alone with his thoughts, his mind eating away at him, keeping him awake at night, tossing and turning in bed, contemplating what they could have been if he hadn't been a coward.

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The next morning was the same as any other, the only difference being the speed of Yoongi's car when he was on his way to the office. The usual 60km/h had escalated to 80km/h and he was certainly a little too excited for someone who was going to be at the hospital for the next 18 hours.

He was walking up the corridor to Yn's room after exiting the elevator on the third level when he heard screams. "MOVE, MOVE OUT OF THE WAY PEOPLE!" shouted Yn as Jungkook pushed her wheelchair down the slanted corridor quicker.

What the fuck!!, Yoongi thought as he saw Jungkook climb onto the wheelchair's back supports, watching in horror as the two of them laughed and giggled their way down the corridor at full speed (which wasn't much speed btw), completely disregarding the 'no noise' and 'no running' placards which were stuck to the wall.

He quickly stepped in the way, feeling a little sense of joy watching Jungkook's eyes widen in fright. Bringing the wheelchair to a screeching halt a few inches away from Yoongi. "Good morning, Hyung!!" he said cheerfully as if he hadn't just broken every regulation in the hospital.

"Can you tell me what you're up to?" His gaze fell on Yn, who appeared to be having the time of her life. "Relax, Yoongo-boongo," Yn remarked. Yoongi frowned at the old nickname, which he had pleaded with Yn to abandon.

"This is risky, you know," Yoongi said, "especially since you wounded your shoulder," He added, quick to understand that Jungkook had no idea about Yn's wounded shoulder. "You hurt your shoulder?!?" the younger one screamed. Yn scowled at Yoongi for giving up that knowledge so easily. Yoongi justified himself by saying, "Don't look at me like that, he was going to find out regardless."

"Yes, but you didn't have to tell him so early, now he won't let me have any fun." She whined, Yoongi scoffed at that, "he isn't supposed to make you have 'fun', he'd supposed to take you to get your x-ray done, it's on the first floor."

Yn pouted as Jungkook nodded at the instructions, pushing the wheelchair with Yn still in it towards the elevator. "Without the wheelchair," Yoongi clarified, making Jungkook pout as well, helping Yn out of the wheelchair.

They both sulked like kicked puppies in the elevator and Yoongi could not stand it. "Ok, fine, take the freaking wheelchair, but just be careful." he said, finally giving in. The two of them gave him bright smiles. Yn sat back in the wheelchair just as the elevator door slid open and Jungkook rolled Yn out.

They're fortunate. Yoongi thought to himself as he went about his rounds that Namjoon owned the hospital. While Yn was getting her x-ray, he checked in with his patients. Yn had a good night's sleep and awoke fairly early, according to the nurse in charge of her surveillance. She felt a minor headache, but nothing else was wrong with her. Only the shoulder was a big issue, and they were unable to determine what was causing the pain.

It took 2 hours for Yoongi to check up on all his patients and meet with a few others in the clinic when Jungkook barged into Yoongi's office with an envelope. "Jungkook you can't just barge in like that," Yoongi groaned as he quickly gave the patient their prescription before sending them out. Telling the receptionist to not send any more patients, he turned all his attention to Kook.

"Now, what's wrong?" He asked, spinning in his chair to face the intern. "Noona's reports are here" Jungkook informed, holding out the envelope. "So fast?" Yoongi questioned. It usually took a day or two for the reports and none of the radiologists took Jungkook seriously, dismissing him as just an intern. He found it suspicious that they had given the reports back so early.

"Namjoon hyung was there for an inspection, he got it done when he saw noona," Jungkook said with a cheeky grin. Yoongi nodded at the explanation. Namjoon always had a soft spot for Yn regardless of if Yn and he were together. He pulled out the reports, scanning through them. "Where is Yn now?" He asked, putting the reports back inside. Jungkook informed that Namjoon had taken her to her room, playing along with Yn's wheelchair drama.

Yoongi rolled his eyes at that, but Jungkook didn't miss the quiver of his lips. Jungkook followed Yoongi upstairs to Yn's room, where they found Yn squishing Namjoon's cheeks. Jungkook joined them, laughing, and Yn hastily let Namjoon free. "So, Doctor, what do you have to say?" Yn asked as Namjoon got out of the chair, rubbing his red-tinged cheeks.

"You must slow down with the usage of your shoulder. You appear to be putting a lot of tension on it; fortunately, it's only strain and nothing dangerous." Yoongi said, instructing Yn to apply heat and ice packs to the affected area. "Are you going to issue me a leave sick note?" Yn inquired as she got out of bed.

"Nope, you can go back to work just fine as long as you don't do any heavy lifting," Yoongi said, scribbling something on a piece of paper. "Yah, Yoongi-ah pleaseeeee write me a sick note," Yn pleaded as she searched for the t-shirt she had worn when she had come into the hospital yesterday. "Nope, and are you really going to wear that?" He asked, surprised that Yn hadn't called anyone to come to pick her up.

"Yeah, I need to head home," Yn answered, gathering her things, "Wait, you can't wear that, I have a spare shirt in my office I'll get that," Yoongi said, getting out of the chair while Namjoon and Jungkook exchanged knowing looks.

"We'll get it hyung, don't worry," Jungkook assured, dragging Namjoon with him. The two of them got into the elevator before spilling the tea. "He is SO whipped!" Jungkook exclaimed, pushing the button to go downstairs. "So is she and did you know Yoongi hyung was footing her bill and he got her a private room?" Namjoon asked, amazed at the extent his extremely tsundere hyung was going to for Yn. "He's pretty much in love all over again, and the nurse said that Yoongi hyung spent more than an hour in noona's room," Jungkook informed with a giddy smile.

"Jin hyung NEEDS to know about this," Namjoon exclaimed but made no move to call their hyung, quickly going to Yoongi's office and grabbing the gray FG shirt which was in his locker before going back upstairs.

As soon as the boys returned to the room, Yn grabbed the t-shirt. She hurriedly removed the hospital gown she had been compelled to wear. Yoongi was quick to respond, instantly stepping in front of Yn so the two younger men wouldn't get a glimpse of his lovely ex's exquisite body, and only pulling away once Yn was covered in his shirt.

"You didn't have to do that, I was wearing a tank top beneath," Yn said, tucking the shirt's hem into the jeans she had worn the day before. "For safety reasons," Yoongi shrugged, avoiding eye contact as though it weren't a big concern that he was covering up his ex. Namjoon's sniggering at the entrance went unnoticed.

"Noona how are going home?" Jungkook asked, checking the time realizing it was his lunch break. "I'll take a cab, don't worry," she assured, grabbing her phone and keys from the bedside table. "I'll drop you home, it'll be hard to get a cab at this time over here," Yoongi said, following after her into the hallway as Jungkook and Namjoon watched.

As she approached the elevator, Yn commented, not really trying to stop Yoongi from coming with her, "There's a thing called uber Yoongi, I'm sure I'll catch a cab." "Jesus woman, will you ever accept aid without a fight?" Yoongi moaned as he snatched her wrist and brought her downstairs to get his keys.

"Aish is so stubborn," Yn grumbled as she trailed behind him, her hand slipping into Yoongi's. They didn't seem to be aware that they were holding hands.

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"Jin hyung will be so happy hearing about this," Jungkook exclaimed, watching Yn and Yoongi argue like an old, married couple while holding hands as they went to the hospital parking lot.

"They look cute, 10$ that they get back together by the end of the month," Namjoon bet, moving away from the window of the private room. "Hyung, you literally own the hospital, I'm just a flimsy intern, how could you expect me to pay 10$," Jungkook whined making Namjoon laugh as Yoongi’s car spedmout of the driveway.

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[lonelier-version-of-you]

Dylan Keogh

- Why I like them: DYLAN MY BELOVED. He is literally one of the very best autistic characters I have ever seen, I love him so much.

I love how he subverts the "autism makes you an asshole" stereotype, because he often acts cold and uncaring and rude, but it's actually the result of the trauma he faced growing up rather than anything to do with his autism itself. I love the implications that he's involved in the autistic community somehow (using terms like "neurodiverse" back when they weren't known outside of the autistic community, once sarcastically asking a social worker patient who had patronised him "have you tried meditation or yoga?" - that phrase and variations thereupon is something of a meme in disability circles). I love how we get to see him befriend other disabled characters like Jade and Lofty. I love how he's an autistic character who's allowed to fuck up, to be complex and human, instead of a pure innocent angel. He's just so good.

- Why I don't: He can be a bit of a jerk sometimes, and has a bit too much of a tendency to act based on his feelings without thinking out the situation first. (Outing Lev is the most egregious example of this, I think. He was so angry at Lev for cheating that he decided to let that override the fact that he was violating Lev's privacy by telling Faith that Lev had been sleeping with another man.)

Also him looking at houses for Faith and the kids to move into with him after she'd told him she wasn't going to date him because she was staying with Lev was creepy, but I'm pretty sure he hasn't been mentally well for a while now and the whole house thing was part of a very slow build-up to him having a breakdown, so I'll give him a pass there.

- Favourite episode: I'm very fond of S26E10 'Sanctuary' for obvious reasons. His interactions with the autistic patient Angela are just beautifully written and I love how kind and compassionate he is to her, and that he doesn't look down on her for being less 'functional' than him.

He's also brilliant in S26E30 'When The Gloves Come Off' (the cave ep with Sam). And S29E43 'The Long Haul' (Brian's first appearance) does a very good job of showing just how traumatised Dylan is. The ambulance crash ep (S35E04) was great for Dylan content too.

- Favourite season: Series 29, probably, for the OCD storyline. And was it series 32 that the Sanosi storyline happened? Because that was great too.

- Favourite line: This exchange he has with the mother who's not paying attention to her autistic daughter's sensory overload in S26E10 is perfect:

Autism Mum: She's never complained before!

Dylan: Well, maybe she did and you weren't listening.

- Favourite outfit: I honestly don't pay attention to his outfits enough to have one, lol. I remember he's worn some outfits I really liked, but I couldn't recall the exact ones.

- OTP: Don't have one at the moment. I liked him with Sam, though. And with Ciara, but that relationship was terribly unhealthy for them both sadly.

- BroTP: Do I even need to say that him and Jade are my BroTP? The only Casualty fic I've written was centred on them for a reason. I also love his friendships with Lofty and with David, and his friendship with Zoe was perfect - I miss seeing them interact so much.

Headcanon: Hm. I'm trying to think of Dylan headcanons I have... I do like @banoffeemacdonald's headcanon that Dylan is a fan of the Sherlock Holmes books though!

And this isn't really a headcanon about Dylan himself, but I do HC that his mum was probably autistic too and that's where he gets it from (some of the comments Brian's made certainly seem to imply it).

(I also have some thoughts on his background but they get pretty depressing and they're more like theories/speculations than headcanons, so I'll leave them out for now. One thing I will say is that the more I've thought about it, the more I think he has CPTSD.)

Unpopular opinion: Dylan isn't "uninterested in romantic relationships", it was perfectly in-character for him to fall for Ciara and then for Faith. Literally one of his first ever storylines was about how he was still in love with Sam! He left the show because he couldn't bear seeing her move on with Tom!

Also some of the stuff people in the fandom hate on Dylan for is understandable (like him outing Lev, that was an asshole thing to do), but when people hate on him for stuff like not expressing his emotions in the 'usual' way then that's just ableism lol.

A wish: Can he please just have a happy, healthy relationship for once in his life?

Also I'd like to see the show give us a flashback episode for him, to explore his backstory a bit more.

An oh-god-please-don't-ever-happen: Him actually dating Faith. Just... no, Casualty, no. He deserves SO much better than her. We saw how awfully she treated her last partner, I don't want Dylan to have to suffer like that (and she absolutely would find something to treat him badly for - they slept together once and within a day she was already shouting at him for not telling her he was an alcoholic, imagine how much worse she'd be if they actually dated).

5 words to best describe them: Clever. Caring. Lonely. Reluctant (to let other people in, even though he really does crave human connection). Sarcastic. I did it, I thought of 5 words!

My nickname for them: Don't have one.

[adversaryss]

@lcyblade:

there's a letter delivered to the harbinger. it's rather plain , with no name written on the outside , however there's a red wax seal keeping the paper closed tightly. upon further inspection , the letter is slightly scented , a floral air to them ; written in ink are very small , thin words , cascading down the paper. to tartaglia -- i hope this finds you swiftly. i understand that , perhaps , this would be easier to discuss in person , however given the current state of affairs , i thought it would be safer this way. my hands are shaking as i write this to you. i feel as if i were writing my will right now but death would be easier than admitting this. perhaps i should discard this after i finish writing. we'll see how i feel afterwards. i've never believed in love growing up. i thought it was some ridiculous fairy tale that parents told their children to ease their minds at night , a blanket to cast their gaze away from the cruelties of the world. but , in a cruel twist of fate , i find myself slowly , irrevocably , infatuated with you . i don't even know that much about you - how comical is that ! look at the man you've made me become ; i can feel my heart twisting as i lay out my soul like this to you. not a day goes by where i don't think about you and your laugh and the look in your eyes when i catch you looking back at me. my heart flutters at the thought. i wish life was kinder to men like us. i pray that perhaps in a different life we are granted the opportunity to be together. i wish i had more courage to say this to your face. i apologize. please don't feel as if you need to respond. i understand either way. -- kaeya alberich

Fluster Meme ( open )

Receiving a letter is nothing unusual to Tartaglia. They come and go in a steady flow of paper, correspondences for work or for his family, but usually he can tell which is which by the seal on the envelope. This... small, innocuous glob of wax is neither the Fatui crest nor the imprint of a star-shaped conch that he sent home to Tonia, who had immediately become enamored with it and insisted on using it for her own.

Curiously, the Harbinger traces his fingers over the red seal before gently working it open, noting a vague floral aroma to the paper that he assumes must be intentional. A love letter from an anonymous admirer, perhaps?

The jesting thought puts an amused smirk on his face as he unfolds the contents, but imagine his surprise when it turns out to be half-true. It really is a love letter of sorts- it just isn't anonymous.

Tartaglia reads it quietly, expression evening out into something more neutral as he takes it in. Then he reads it once more, dull eyes studying the unsteady lines forming each letter as his mind fills in the blanks. He can recall with perfect clarity the way Kaeya's voice shakes when he exposes just a little too much, the modest downcast of his eye when he dares to ask for more than he feels he deserves.

"...How dramatic," he mutters, exasperated and fond as he carefully folds the letter back up. He taps it against his chin in thought and closes his eyes, breathing in the faint scent clinging to the paper more intently now. Calla lily. A solitary flower that grows quietly by the lake, only ever taking as much as it needs, nothing more and nothing less.

Perhaps his own lily was feeling lonely all the way over there in Mond? An almost preposterous assumption, seeing as he had the Chief Alchemist in his pocket, but Tartaglia knows all too well what it feels like to have everything and still want more.

A sly sort of smile tugs at his lips as he opens his eyes halfway. Sending letters is second nature to Tartaglia, but perhaps, just this once, he will deliver his reply in person.

[silverinia]

I came for Baranski, I stayed for Baranski - a quick Christmas On The Square review someone* actually asked for

(* thank you, anon)

Disclaimer: I am in no way a professional of any sorts when it comes to film and I'm not a journalist either. The last movie review I've written was probably for a school assignment in eighth grade. I didn't do research for this and I've watched the movie exactly one time, so this is just for fun.

It was a Sunday, Sunday the 22nd of November, nearing the end of the train wreck of a year that is 2020. I woke up on an air mattress around seven am, my head aching, my throat itching with pyrosis and light nausea, it was still dark outside behind the closed blinds in front of the windows, when I slowly realised where I was, one of my best girlfriends sleeping next to me in her bed. I had crashed at her place after a warm, fuzzy evening of mulled wine, tacky Christmas movies I would never watch alone (Christmas Chronicles and Holiday Calendar, which I quite honestly didn't enjoy at all, but the company made it fun anyway), doing our nails, wearing the fun kind of face masks for a change and smoking too many cigarettes, as the soft pain in my head informed me right now. She woke up an hour later and the morning went by with coffee and reheated pizza for breakfast, when we decided to watch another movie and I realised that it was THE Sunday I'd been waiting for through Zoom interviews and Dolly Parton twitter memes and the infamous wig gate that will be briefly discussed in the following, and so we clicked on the small icon in the Netflix menu that said "Christmas On The Square".

And oh boy, was it a ride.

To start off, I should mention that I have a hard time watching most modern day American Christmas movies, as I noticed quite vividly again when I watched the two aforementioned Netflix productions last night. The character development is always foreseeable to say the least, the plot lines are plain clichés hunting each other like they're the kids in The Hunger Games, and the writing is generally so bad that you can join the actors in reciting the entire scripts on your first watch. I watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas once a year while I'm gift wrapping and pause every fifteen minutes to shamelessly stare at forties Christine Baranski (I think we should all turn away from the birth of Jesus and instead count our years based on Christine Baranski's date of birth) in flamboyant nightgowns and short Christmas themed dresses, looking so fabulous that every interpreter of Santa Baby ever could only dream of it, I watch Love Actually at least five times a year to lust over Hugh Grant, cry with Emma Thompson and miss Alan Rickman, I enjoy Bridget Jones, which I would definitely consider a Christmas movie, and that's it. That's my yearly Christmas time entertainment routine and I can barely tolerate anything beyond, because I'm still traumatised from the time when I was around five years old and on a holiday family visit where had to sit through National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, the dumbest movie I have ever seen (my apologies if you like it but also, who hurt you?), with my cousins. I hated it. I hated every minute of it. And it scarred me for life.

But this was a Christine Baranski movie, I knew she was going to play the lead and so I was pretty much as excited about this as I could. And the fact that Dolly Parton wrote the whole thing didn't hurt either. As I said earlier to my friend I was watching it with, I have the pop cultural taste of a fifty year old gay man, a quality I am most proud of, and this simply ticked off all my boxes.

I expected something similar to a Mamma Mia experience that wouldn't cause me to crave packing my bags, give Covid the finger and run off to Greece. Light-hearted entertainment, easy to stomach, uplifting music and so little plot that the simplicity feels like a creative choice. That's what my pained, hungover brain knew it could cope with and that's not what I got.

The movie started and I was immediately in the zone. I saw Christine Baranski's name in the front credits (an experience that never fails to make me scream "Yass Queen" at the screen, regardless of where I am and who I'm with, as if I'm the sobering result that pops out of the package when you order Jonathan Van Ness on Wish), the setting was wonderfully corny (I grew up watching Gilmore Girls once a week, so give me warm fairy lights and a gazebo and I'm perfectly happy) and as my friend wondered whether Dolly Parton, in her exaggerated homeless attire that didn't make her look shabby at all, was green-screened into the setting because she stood out so much (which she was because the background dancers were dancing in slow motion, but to be fair, we were probably still a little too drunk to notice that from the start) and I told her I thought that it was just the natural glow someone who's Dolly Parton simply carries with them everywhere they go, I was happy. This was the movie I was prepared for. A movie in which the most problematic thing would be stereotypical characters and the wig they hid Christine's real, flawlessly handmade by God herself hair under.

And then, around five minutes in, Christine Baranski's childhood love interest was revealed as she pressed her perfect pointy nose against the window of his shop and sang about her unrequited love.

And suddenly, things started taking turns at a pace I was still way too sleep-deprived for.

Suddenly, in the middle of my general amazement at seeing Christine Baranski do literally anything and laughing loud at her impeccable comedic delivery, there were unresolved daddy issues, hanging prominently at the wall in her marvellously designed house (she literally says "Daddy" at one point and I couldn't help but think that only someone with her vocal skills could keep from making it sound cringe-worthily kinky). One moment, I was clutching my chest above my heart while she was bonding with little bartender Violet and munching on pretzels while downing some whiskey in that elegant way only Christine Baranski can bond with ten year olds who had it rough, eat pretzels and down whiskey, and the next she felt responsible for said girl's mother's death (which she kinda was too, but I'm not the boss of her). I was still busy making fun of how the very annoyingly, but when you're snacking on pizza with extra cheese at nine in the morning also highly funny, slow talking pastor's name was Christian, and suddenly there was a cancer scare.

It was a lot, a hasty sprint from major issue to major issue with a hint of comedic relief every now and then, and it didn't get any less until the very, rather poorly resolved, end.

The entire, constant up and down was followed by the movie's peak of suspense, the near death of precious Violet, something I couldn't even get too invested in because I was still so busy worrying about Christine's MRT results (I was truly fucking worried), not to mention that I hadn't even started to really process the sudden revelation of the love child and how it had affected her character's actions until this point. Was her constant tendency of pushing people away, as we've seen most clearly with her angel in training assistant who's name I cannot recall right now, the result of her broken trust in her father who practically ripped her son away from her after she had just given birth to him? Was it a result of her never getting the closure she needed with plaid flannel wearing Carl she was clearly still in love with? Maybe both? And what of the many issues was it that made her so incredibly shaken up when Violet blamed herself for her mother's death? Was it 'just' due to the fact that the closed pharmacy was on her, or was there more to it? Was it because she had grown up without a mother herself? Or did I miss a major piece of information because I was momentarily distracted, dumbfoundedly staring at Christine's very blue eyes? No time to ponder on that, little Silverinia, because here comes unconscious Violet in an ambulance, WEE WOO WEE WOO WEE WOO!

I'm not going to go in depth about what plot lines I thought were especially carelessly handled and why, real standouts were the sudden forgiveness towards her father who had still acted like a shitty asshole even though he might have had his reasons, because giving the baby up for adoption just wasn't his choice to make, and the fact that I kind of didn't buy how quickly Regina managed to forgive herself, especially for Violet's mother's passing, considering how deeply her tall, slim, dare I say angelic and entrancing figure was buried beneath the weight of all her issues. It felt rushed and incomplete, but that's as detailed as it gets because my major point is something else.

I think this movie made the great mistake of trying to be more than your average, flat, happy ending Christmas movie. I think no one involved thought it was possible to make it a big hit if the only real plot would've been great Dolly Parton music, fun ensemble dance choreographies, Christine Baranski's outstanding acting skills, fun settings and costumes and a redemption arch with as little plot as it could possibly take to make Christine likable to those who aren't already lost forever in the rabbit hole of being obsessed with her (poor fuckers, can't relate). They didn't notice that with the legends that were involved, they could've easily gone the Mamma Mia way. And I think that's why they tried to include heavier plot lines than most creators would've chosen, experiencing loss at an early age, struggling to find closure, dealing with sickness, teenage pregnancy, parents forcing their choices on their children when they affect their childrens' lives first, adoption, and the fear of losing your kid.

It was a lot and I don't want to say that it didn't work because my friend was crying, like, pretty hard and I questioned my entire existence all through the movie in not the worst way, and I did enjoy it a lot while watching. The "grief is love with nowhere to go" line was a real standout, for example, where the attempt of complexity DID work. It positively gave me fleabag season two, "I don't know what to do with it now, with all the love I have for her." - "I'll take it. It sounds lovely. You have to give it to me." feels, and that's about the biggest praise I can come up with. BUT (and this is written in capital letters because it's the big but) I'm also totally convinced that I wouldn't have enjoyed it if they hadn't cast Christine Baranski for the lead role. In my humble opinion, the hasty, not really at all resolved plot of this movie only worked because Christine Baranski is just a fantastic actress. She quirks a mocking eyebrow and you laugh. She parts her perfectly painted red lips and you immediately hang on them because you don't want to miss a single breath she, a literal goddess, graces us mere peasants of people with. She smiles and you're happy. She laughs and even while she's still laughing, you can't wait to hear her do it again. Her eyes fill with tears and you feel goosebumps on your arms, her voice slightly trembles, a breath hitches in her throat and you feel your heart shattering to pieces. As Chuck Lorre once said, this woman could read you the phone book and you would end up laughing tears because she just gets the job done. She knows what she's doing, she's an absolute pro in her game, and it doesn't matter, not even a little bit, what she's working with, because the work she eventually delivers with it is always at a minimum of 200%. I forced my friend to watch this movie with me because I adore this woman, and I felt for this movie because I felt for her. It wasn't the plot that sadly brutally overestimated itself, it wasn't the songs that I obviously enjoyed, nor the comedic elements that truly made me laugh a lot, it was all her. I came for Baranski, and I stayed for Baranski. This woman can do anything. She can even look graceful in a terrible wig job.

(side note / unpopular opinion: I actually didn't think the wig was all too bad. It wasn't good, actually far from good, but for me, nothing can match the awful wig game of Mamma Mia 2. I loathed that wig, I absolutely cannot stand it. So this didn't feel all that terrible. It definitely wasn't the most problematic part about the movie.)

I enjoyed watching this. It was a nice distraction from all the bullshit in the world. Watching it today was the first thing this year that actually brought me something close to excitement about the holiday season, even though everything will be very different and probably not quite as jolly this year. But it just gave me good vibes and as someone who did not watch this as a film reviewer, that's the biggest part of what leads me to enjoy a movie.

Will I watch this again? For sure. Will I enjoy it when I'm not hungover, having freshly done nails and munching delicious pizza for breakfast? Probably not as much, but it'll still have Christine Baranski in it. Would I recommend watching this? If you share my obsession with Queen B, one hundo. If you don't, probably not.

[cryptidsandcatacombs]

Got any headcannons for The Three Gay Caballeros? (I don't care what Disney changed it too. They can't fool me.)

Hohoholy shit finally someone asking me about my fave bois Dolan, Parchito and *lookes at smuged hand* Josie

Ps you can’t hide from us Disney. They’re gay and proud.

Srsly I love these three. Thank you for sending this you made my day. This post is gonna run a bit long cause i’m gonna tackle each individual one then them as a group.

So i’m putting this under read more

Donald:

~While he’s a bit of a grumpy guss, he actually cries really easily during sad/romantic films. He’s a sucker for a good happy ending tbh, but the sadder moments always get to him. 

~Will he absolutely get run over by a car if it means his family would be safe? 100000 percent. 

~He’s obectively the good, responsible parental figure in his nephew’s lives, but he also finds it hard to restrain himself when he wants to spoil them. However, he finds a way to make it justifiable to spoil them. One time, they wanted a puppy. So he did it the old fashioned way: made sure they were ready to take care of a puppy. Needless to say, his nephews thanked him for the lesson years later. 

~Is actually really good at guitar. He learned how to play after he became friends with Panchito and Jose

~Likes to go on road trips and encourages his nephews to go with him so they can see the world like he did back when he was a wild and free explorer like Scrooge.

~Always brings back one thing from wherever he travels to. He holds dear the places he went to due to always wanting to cherish the memories he’s made. He’s pretty sentimental like that.

Panchito:

~He tends to have a multiple choice past depending on who you ask. Some say he grew up in a rich family and some say he grew up in a poor one with many siblings. All of them are pretty much rumors and no one really knows who he truly is. He’s only really confided this in Jose and Donald. 

~Lets be real: it’s basically canon he’s an adrenaline junky. To be honest, he didn’t used to be in touch with technology being the free spirit he is. However, once he discovered social media, he freely streamed his exploits for all to see. He’s actually very popular among people who like to watch people do stupid shit and daring stunt (and also among travel junkies as he’s always all over the place).

~He never really travels to the same place twice, but he’s fond of more places than others that he does take a visit to if he gets a chance. Usually this is cause he’s made a dear friend there or the trio had a very good time there and he doesn’t mind reliving a few memories. 

~When it comes to shooting, a lot of people think he’s a natural talent, but he’ll recall the time he accidentally shot someone in the leg when he shot his first pistol. They laugh about it years later.

~Is a very generous spirit helping out anyone in need. He’s actually kind of a big softie who has a hard time turning anyone away or saying no to anyone and people just naturally trust him cause he radiates a warm, welcoming spirit.

~Had a habit of taking in strays as a kid. He still does this years later as an adult, but always makes sure they go to a family with a more stable lifestyle than he has.

Jose:

~Is really good at playing a number of instruments. Let no one tell you his music hasn’t charmed many.

~And speaking of being charming, he is either the most charismatic person in the room at any given time or the most awkward asshole ever. It depends on how shaken he is at the moment. 

~However, at his most charismatic, he’s been known to charm anyone. He was once a con man after all. 

~He’s horribly clumsy when drunk tbh. His perfect posture goes right out the window when everyone and their mom is trying to save him from tripping over his own two feet and running into everything.

~He’s a pretty fine gentleman when it comes to romance. Never let anyone tell you he hasn’t been known to put his date first. He’s actually got a noble spirit despite people regarding him as kind of a playboy. 

~With that said, one thing he’ll never do his cheat on his lover. He’s a pretty loyal guy. 

~He’s the kind of guy who longs for more places that he’s never been more than the places he has. It’s the romantic in him. 

~Along with being an amazing musician, he’s actually a really talented artist. He’s actually really good at drawing people from memory. He often gives these drawings to the people that were his muse at the time to let them know how beautiful he thinks they are.

~Knows liqour like the back of his own hand. Need some suggestions or what will go well with certain foods? He’s got you~!

~Actually kind of a gourmet, but he’s also the least picky when it comes to his food. He doesn’t have a big apetite like say Panchito and Donald, but he does share a certain love of food like the other two. 

~Ask him about his culture and places he’s been. Trust me. It’ll make his day and it’s the sure fire way to get him to talk for hours.

All three of them:

~Have gotten arrested more times than they can count together. 

~Basically they’re this meme:

~However, they have somehow evaded getting horribly injured together despite the dangerous things they do. It’s a miracle of God tbh.

~Have either gotten fans or noise complaints depending on who is a fan of them singing all hours into the night and day and who isn’t.

~They know more secrets about each other than anyone ever will and all of them being taken to the grave. 

~Despite them not always being able to see each other, they would ride or die for each other and are willing to actually travel to see them should they really need help at any given time. 

~While they like to have fun, sometimes they will stay in to recount the good times and even just enjoy each other’s company and even be more open about how much they treasure each other (especially if all three of them are drunk). 

[five-hour-anxiety]

CREEPY HAUNTED HOUSE TOUR: DON'T FOLLOW US IN 👻💀👽😦😈 | The Theory of Real-Activity | LOGAN FOUND A BODY YOU GUYS

@zerogettie  @spacevirgil  @tree4life25 @thebiggestnaturaldisaster@pailettehazel @jordandobbertin @thecityofthefireflies @the-fabulous-kimball @azuranightsong @virmillion @erlenmeyertrash @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch  @the-sanders-sides @punch-you-with-friendship @captaincantatrice @clovenpinetree @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @aplaceinthevoid @zennyo

Word Count: 4500

Warnings: panic attacks, arguments, haunted houses, talk of demons

Pairing: platonic analogical

Summary: Logan and Virgil run a vlog together, and have decided to film in a haunted house.

“Virgil, for the last time, ghosts aren’t real.”

“Yes, I know that! You know that! Roman and Patton don’t, though, so we need to go ‘ghost hunting’ to prove it once and for all!”

 “I understand where you are coming from, but do we really need to do this? There must be a better approach to the issue – one that will not cost as much and save us the tour of a condemned building.”

 “Oh, that’s hilarious – you think I want to step foot in there? My anxiety is spiked at the thought of what could go wrong on the way out there, much less once we actually go in.” Virgil sighed and ran his hands down his face. His grape colored bangs fell back into place, and he blew on them in an annoyed manner. “Unfortunately, Roman has access to our Twitter and already made a poll.”

  “You mean to tell me-”

 “Yep. The people want a ghost busting episode.”

 “Why on Earth did I give him the password for the account? What was I thinking?” Logan brought his tie up to his mouth, and Virgil strained to hear the muffled curses over the mouthful of cotton.

“Roman basically just challenged you to a giant game of chicken – a public one, and are you really gonna let him win that easy?”

 “Grammar, Virgil, but you have a point. I cannot let that day-dreaming ditz best me. Clear your weekend schedule, we are going on a… what did you call it? Spirit pursuit?”

 “Okay, first – I have no weekend plans as that would require having more than three friends, and two – it’s a ghost hunt so unless you want me to meme the shit out of you again, never call this a spirit pursuit again.”

 “Oh, please, our audience does not need another joke – it’s bad enough you got everyone and their cousin to call the video blog ‘The Theory of Real-Activity” instead of its official name.”

  “Look, that’s better than ‘VirgeofDiscovery’, and it’s a vlog Logan stop trying to sound smart for once in your life.”

***

“I think that I saw this on Buzzfeed Unsolved, once. Just put the flashlight down and ask… something… to turn it on.”

“You know this won’t work, right?” The camera’s mic picks up Logan, who was exploring another room. “And it’s Buzzfeed, why were you watching that garbage?”

“Because I love Shane Madej, the only perfect human.” The camera swings upward so that we see Virgil’s face, and he points at the lens. “You can all quote me on that – make sure he knows that Virge from The Theory of Real-Activity loves his work.”

“Oh my God, Virgil, are you using our video blog in a sad attempt to get your internet crush to notice you?”

 “I-No! It’s a squish! And stop calling it a video blog!”

“If I were as childish as Patton, I would begin to sing one of those schoolyard chants about you and Mr. Madej sitting in a tree.”

“Well, gee, thanks for-”

“I am going to rap it instead.”

 “LOGAN, I SWEAR TO GOD.”

“Virgil and Shane, sitting in-” The camera stops recording.

***

 “Alright, do we have everything we need? My bag has a portable charger, extra batteries, and some water bottles as well as the camera I plan to use.”

“I have the salt.”

 “Virgil, didn’t we agree that ghosts aren’t real?”

 “Yes, but you can never be too safe. Besides – Patton wouldn’t let me leave without it, so now we have a pound of salt.” Virgil shook it around and shimmied. Logan groaned, and reached for the other’s bag, looking to see if anything else was in there.

 “Oh, I see you have a first aid kit – that’s a good addition. You also have the snacks, flashlights, and a camera but I don’t see your stress ball? Are you sure you wish to go without?”

“No worries, man, I got it in the car.”

“Why is it in your car?”

 “Roman had to drive me to my therapy session, and the chariot-”

 “You mean that disgusting minivan?”

 “Yeah, the chariot. Anyway, I have it in there because Roman was driving.”

Logan frowned at the thought, knowing that the man often bragged about having a lead foot while driving. Virgil just shrugged and hoisted his bag over his shoulder, shaking the salt container as he went out the door.

 “Hey, we both made it to the office in one piece, it’s all good. Moving on, we should probably do the intro before we leave the house. Get at least one shot with decent lighting.”

“Ah, yes, that is a good idea – do you wish to hold the camera or should I?” Logan locked the door behind him, making sure the spare key hadn’t been moved in case he misplaced his set.

“I’ll film, whenever you try to do anything in selfie mode you trim off half our heads.” Virgil threw his bag in the trunk and moved over to the passenger side door.

 “Why is it whenever we go anywhere in i car you refuse to drive, Virgil?”

 “If you didn’t leave your car at the university this weekend, we would’ve taken yours. And driving makes me anxious.”

 “Then why do you own a car?” It was a question Logan asked frequently, and never got a satisfying answer to.

 “I have a car because I’m too lazy to skateboard everywhere.”

  Logan rolled his eyes, and slipped into the car, taking the keys from the lanky man. He tied his hair back into a ponytail and motioned to Virgil to start filming.

 “Sup everyone, we still need an official video intro so keep sending in ideas. And I’m sure that you read the title, so y’all know we’re going on a ghost hunt today.”

 “Please, Virgil, don’t make it a clickbait title. Please don’t hurt me like that.”

 “I do what I want, nerd.” Logan groaned and started the engine as Virgil continued to talk, only interrupting to correct the brand name and to offer his stance when Virgil asked if he believed in ghosts. Despite his easy tone, though, Virgil seemed tense and his shoulders were drawn up close.

 The drive was by no means a long one, but by the time they finally reached the old house, Virgil had somehow managed to go through his entire playlist, having skipped each song after one or two measures. Logan found it annoying but said nothing, as he could see Virgil gripping his stress ball out of the corner of his eye.

This wouldn’t end well.

***

 “Logan, Logan it turned the flashlight on please, please tell me there’s a logical explanation for that!”

“I don’t know! Maybe it’s a faulty battery, or… or the switch isn’t fully on so it’s flipping between its off and on mode!”

 “OH MY GOD IT’S MOVING!”

 There’s a high-pitched scream, and the sound of footsteps retreating. The recording cuts to Virgil’s camera and shows Logan sprinting away as fast as he can.

 “YOU COWARD, DON’T LEAVE ME HERE! LOGAN!”

***

 “So, this is the place – leave it to Roman to pick a fucking mansion.”

 “Yes, well, I would expect no less from him. The Victorian style is quite breathtaking, despite it’s less than perfect condition.” Logan was leaning against the car, cleaning his glasses. Virgil shifted from foot to foot and fiddled with the straps on his bag.

“Do we really have to go in? We could just tell Roman there was like, a cop here or something, and he of all people should know that trespassing on private property doesn’t end well.”

 “I do not believe breaking and entering the theatre to steal a prince costume is quite the same, Virgil, and Roman would find that story compelling. No, we would have to mention that the officer was angered by our intent to enter a condemned area – we would at least have Patton on our side with that.”

 “Please don’t remind me of how unsafe this is. Not while I’m holding the car keys.”

 “You won’t drive anywhere.”

“At this point, self-preservation would let me do anything.” Virgil sighed and threw the keys at Logan. “Just hold on to these – don’t think you want me driving off without ya.”

 Logan hummed in agreement, pocketing the keys as he walked towards the front door. By the time he reached the porch, he looked back to Virgil who still hadn’t moved. Logan gestured towards the door.

 “Okay! Fine! But if something happens, this is all on you and your ego!”

 “If I recall correctly, you were the one who wanted to come here.”

 “Well, I changed my mind. C’mon, let’s just get this over with. Camera’s rolling.”

***

 “Logan, this isn’t funny!” The camera picks up a breeze from Virgil’s jacket as he sprints in the direction he thinks Logan went, his cries ignored.

The camera shifts suddenly, and we come face to face with the man himself. Virgil had stopped running and is standing in the front room.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I wish I was back in Logan’s basement listening to him rant about Mothman again.” He sighs, putting his free hand behind his head. “I’d rather listen to him confess his undying love for the thing than be here, choking on dust.

 “But! Instead, I let Roman win – which, by saying that, I feel nauseous – and now we’re here running around a death maze. There’s a ton of rusty nails and if we get cut on those we aren’t gonna get to a hospital in time. I think I saw a bat earlier? And where there’s bats, there’s disease-carrying mosquitoes. Not to mention those jacked up stairs.” The camera focuses on a flight of rotted stairs, the floorboards broken and, in some spots, missing altogether.

 “Yeah, stairs aren’t supposed to be bouncy. I’m just-I’m just gonna call Patton and see if he knows what to do from here.”

***

“I think there’s more dust in here than in Aunt Patty’s attic, and that’s saying something.”

 The house was older than anything the two had ever seen, and there was a fine film of filth covering every available surface. Logan couldn’t help but notice the numerous cobwebs and think of Patton – specifically, how much the man would hate being around so many.

  “Hey, do you, uh…” Virgil moved his flashlight over to one of the webs and stuttered out a few more false starts. “Do you think any of the spiders who made those things are, like, poisonous?”

 “If there are any venomous spiders, they will not bite you unless you give them a reason. They cannot eat you, so there is no purpose in wasting their venom on a large creature like you.” This seemed to calm the taller man down, and Logan moved over to the staircase.

 “Hey, don’t go up those, nerd, I already checked them. They’re not safe – the wood’s so rotted it’s squishy and soft.” Logan nodded and made a mental note to locate a different way upstairs.

The two continued to look around for a while longer, not finding anything remotely interesting. After about half an hour of quiet observation, Virgil suggested they started filming, claiming that the sooner they wrapped this up, the sooner they could drive away and never come back.

 “Salutations, class-”

“Logan, you’re boring.”

 “I am talking like I normally do, Virgil, how else should I speak? Like Roman, perhaps?”

 “God, no, please. Anything but that.”

“Well, in that case – greetings one and all! We’ve finally arrived at our grand destination and have been parading around the grounds for a few hours!”

 “I will throw this salt at you.”

 “Little grains of salt are no match for a prin- oof!”

 “I told you I would.”

 “You threw the entire container at me! Like a savage!”

 “What, you can pretend to Roman and I can’t?”

***

“Okay, so calling Patton was a bust. He told me to use the salt like a weapon and I had to tell him I already chucked it at Logan’s face.” Virgil snickers, running a finger under his nose. “That was the best thing to happen today if I’m being honest. Pat didn’t really appreciate it, though.

“Roman was also a wasted call – apparently he’s at some audition and when he answered, well, he just started screaming about newspapers.” Virgil pauses, and we hear something shatter off-screen.

“H-Hello? Demons?” The camera slowly pans across the room, almost making a full circle as even more thumps can be heard. Before it can finish, Virgil screams and drops the camera.

The screen is filled with static.

***

It had been about two hours, and in that time Logan had somehow managed to: find a way upstairs, provoke something into turning that flashlight on, proceed to run upstairs, get lost, and find a new respect for supernatural beliefs.

 “I cannot believe I’m saying this, but I believe in ghosts now.” His words echoed around the attic, unheard by anyone but him and perhaps the mouse he saw earlier. At least, he hoped that’s what it was. He couldn’t stand the thought of sharing space with a rat.

 “I believe in ghosts, so can we stop playing this juvenile game? How on Earth do I get back downstairs?” He waited for an answer as the logical part of his brain scolded him for speaking to thin air.

 He didn’t get one.

“This is ridiculous, I should know better.” He paused and listened again. “If I change my mind and say ghost are not real, will one of you tell me how to get back downstairs?” Logan removed his glasses and began to pace the room. The amount of dirt that had gathered on his frames was astounding – perhaps he had stumbled through a cobweb in his hasty exit.

“Well, what would Patton do in this situation? At present, he may make a joke about his poor eyesight and lack of- ow!” As he spoke, Logan ran into an old china cabinet – it didn’t fall, but he still held his breath as it swayed back and forth.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” Logan whispered, moving to the front to see if anything was inside. He found a few plates and teacups, though none were particularly impressive. If he were Roman or Patton he may have found the painted flowers beautiful, but he wasn’t, and he didn’t. The maroon one rimmed in gold paint did remind him of a set Roman owned, however, and made a mental note to come back for it if there was time.

But first, he had to find his way downstairs and reunite with Virgil.

***

“So, as you may have seen – though I can’t be sure because obviously, I do not know how this will be edited – I was forced to make a hasty, yet calm, retreat from the study.”

The screen cuts to a replay of Logan fleeing the room, and trombones play as he screams. Text pops up and it says “logan lies” in comic sans.

“After my exit, I managed to find my way upstairs and now I am unsure how to get down – much like a cat climbing a tree. But I did stumble across a cabinet full of teacups that I think a friend of mine would enjoy. I have also concluded that there are too many mothballs in this house and I will not cross meeting the Mothman off my bucket list today.”

Logan crosses the room as he paces, chewing on his lip in between sentences. “Despite my own disappointment, I find myself upset the most over being separated from Virgil. I do not believe he is well – I am ashamed to admit that I have only now realized he was suppressing a panic attack as we drove out here.

“To be quite honest, camera, there is a very good chance this footage won’t be posted online. It depends on how Virgil is doing and whether he is okay with releasing footage taken of him during an atta-”

Logan trips and falls into the china cabinet once more, a plate shattering upon impact. The camera swings around to show the floor and a trap door that was slightly ajar. A ladder falls from the floor, designed to be hidden when not in use.

“Well, here is my way down. This ladder does not look up to code,” He steps down on a rung, testing his weight, “but it should hold long enough for me to get down.”  He begins his descent but stops suddenly. Logan moves over to the cabinet and pulls out a teacup, placing it carefully in his bag. His footsteps are heavy and echo as he travels down the ladder.

At the bottom, he screams out Virgil’s name.

 ***

  “Virgil! Virgil, can you hear me?”

Logan shook him hard, but he got no response.

 “Virgil, please, you need to get up. I need to know you are okay.” Logan had spotted him collapsed in the middle of the room and jumped down the ladder as soon as he could, forgoing the last four rungs and sliding over to where Virgil lay.

“Mm, not so loud Logan. My ears are ringing.”

 “Well, I expected that. You must have hit your head when you collapsed – can you tell me if I sound muffled as if I were underwater?”

 “No, everything’s just beyond loud.” Virgil winced as he sat up, Logan taking note of where he grabbed his head.  “Logan, are you okay? You’re crying!”

 A quick swipe at his eye revealed that a few tears had formed and escaped.

 “Well, of course – I am not without a heart, Virgil. The sight of you sprawled out like that was… immensely alarming, to say the very least.” Logan’s breath shuddered, and a few minutes of silence passed between the two, interrupted by an occasional hum from Virgil.

 “The ringing is gone.” The silence was broken, and with its absence came Logan’s ability to breath deeply.

 “That is wonderful, Virgil.” Logan stood up and dusted his jeans off before offering a hand to the other man. “May I ask what circumstances led to you losing consciousness?”

“I don’t know.” Virgil kicks at the floor. “So, don’t ask.”

 “Well, may I share some theories I have developed?”

“Knock yourself out.” Logan winced at the phrase, and Virgil mumbled an apology as he collected his equipment.

 “Virgil, I knew you were edging toward a panic attack on the way here – so I would like to start by offering a sincere apology for not saying anything sooner.”

    “Don’t. I didn’t tell you, so it’s my fault. I just didn’t want you to worry too much – or to turn around. I know Roman would have given you a hard time if we didn’t film an episode here, so I figured I would just deal.”

 “As I have told you many times, there is no ‘dealing’ with these situations alone in our friendship. Regardless, I knew you were not okay and didn’t say anything.”

 “God, Logan, can’t you let me blame myself for once? At least let me share the blame.”

“Fine, we shall share at your insistence. Moving on, I believe the building panic caused you to experience an irregular breathing pattern. I deduce that the lack of oxygen led to you losing-”

“No. You’re wrong.”

 “I beg your pardon? You just told said you did not know what happened how can you say I am wrong?”

 “Because it’s embarrassing, okay?! Damnit, Logan, it’s embarrassing how bad this attack was and how ridiculous my shit brain makes me react.” Virgil strode away, and out of the room, calling over his shoulder.

“Just help me film some stuff so people don’t know that the passing out act was real. I’ll lay down over there, and just… I dunno we’ll improvise.”

“Is it wise to publish this footage? Roman and his teasing be damned, it is more important that you are okay, Virgil! These cameras likely have footage of you panicking and us arguing! Are a few views really worth it?”

“Yes, because I wanted this episode! I put the poll on Twitter, not Roman, okay? So please, let’s film something stupid, make the whole thing look staged, and leave.”

 “Virgil-”

 “Please, Logan.”

 “No.” Logan crossed his arms and stood up straight. He was taller than Virgil, and his glare was cold enough to give Virgil goosebumps.

 “I’m sorry, ‘no’? Oh, so now you say no! Not when I asked to come here, not when I asked for demons to turn a flashlight, not when-”

“Virgil, stop this. You are behaving in an immature manner and this needs to stop. How was I supposed to know that you wanted me to tell you ‘no’? I am not a mind reader, so you cannot blame your poor communication skills on my inability to instantly know what you want.”

Virgil said nothing. He glared at Logan and sat down on the floor, eventually inviting him to do the same. They sat there for a while, as both needed time to calm down before speaking.

 After what felt like an eternity later, Virgil finally spoke up.

“I’m gonna start, but you need to let me finish before you cut in, okay?” Logan nodded, and Virgil took a deep breath. “I wanted to film at a haunted house because I knew we would get way more views than we normally do.

 “I thought, hey! More views means more add revenue – and yes, I know it’s not a lot – but with that extra money, we could start building up the funds to rent an apartment. I’m sick of living with my parents, Logan, and I know you are too.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Virgil, but I would rather endure a few more years with them than have you hurting for the sake of loose change.”

 “Yeah, well. What’s done is done, I guess.” Virgil sighed and leaned over on Logan. “I lied, you know. I do know why I passed out earlier.” He sighed and buried his nose into Logan’s shoulder.

“I will not deny that I want to know why, Virgil, but I do not want you to share if you are uncomfortable.”

 “Heh, well, maybe you’ll learn something new – did you know that anxiety can make you see hallucinations? Specifically, when the fight or flight stuff kicks in?” Logan raises an eyebrow but remains silent. “When the, uh, the – instinct, for lack of better word – kicks in, your pupils dilate.

 “And when that happens, the sudden light change can cause a person – like me – to see shadows and figures at the edge of my vision.”

 “Fascinating – but I assume this is a rare situation and does not happen to you often?”

“No, it doesn’t. But it did when… did you break something upstairs? Because something shattered, there was a lot of thumping, and then they just- appeared. I think that made me panic even more, and then yes – the lack of oxygen probably did the rest.”

“Ah, yes, I fell into a cabinet of china, and I believe a plate was shattered. I apologize for my involvement.”

“Nah, no worries about that. It was just shoddy circumstances. And,” Virgil looked up, offering a weak grin to Logan, “As cheesy as it sounds, we are probably a bit closer than we were before this whole trip.”

“You are right, that is extremely cliché. I appreciate the sentiment, however, despite how infuriating your statement is. Shall we film the ending of this video, now?”

Virgil snorted, pushing himself up using Logan’s shoulder.

“Yeah, let’s this thing wrapped up.”

 ***

  “Virgil! Virgil, please get up!” Logan is frantically shaking Virgil’s shoulder, his voice wobbly. The camera has been left on after being discarded in a hurry.

“Logan… Logan no, don’t- don’t go in the closet.”

 “I spent ten years in the closet, I have no intention of going back in.” Logan sniffs as he speaks, and Virgil gasps awake, shooting upward.

“Huh? Wait, what happened? …Why would you go back in the closet?”              

 “You said not to go in there – what happened to you?”

 “I don’t- I don’t remember. There was a- I think I saw something, Logan. A shadow, maybe?”

 “You must have seen my shadow as I came down the ladder.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Virgil pauses and stares at a spot on the wall behind Logan. “Where is the ladder you came down?”

 “To your left.” Logan gestures with his head as he hoists Virgil to his feet.

 “That means it couldn’t have been your shadow. The light wouldn’t have hit you correctly to cast a shadow over there.” Virgil points to a closet off to the side of the ladder. “Besides, the shadow didn’t look… well not to be cliché, but it didn’t look human.”

“Preposterous.” Logan has moved over to the camera, and the screen goes black as he picks it up. A few moments later, it’s aimed at Virgil as he talks about what he saw in detail.

“…and it had, well they weren’t horns per say, but they were definitely not something that’s on your head, nerd. But, whatever,” Virgil rolls his eyes, “I can tell you don’t believe me. Let’s just get out of here.”

  Logan hums in agreement, and the screen goes black.

 ***

  “Goodbye, murder house, see you never!”

 “Well, this footage is unusable.”

 “Wait, why?”

 “I am not ending the video with you flipping off an old house.” Logan sighed and turned the camera off. Virgil pouted and turned to finish packing the equipment into his car.

“Hey, I know what I’mma call this video. ‘Logan finds a body’!” Virgil spread his arms out in emphasis, narrowly missing Logan’s face in the process.

 “That is absolutely morbid, Virgil, and uncharacteristically short.” Logan shut the trunk with a slam and fished the keys out of his bag as Virgil moved to the front seat.

 “Yeah, no, it’ll have emojis in it, the vlog title of course, and-”

  “By chance, will it be the proper title?” The car started with a roar, and the two were met with a blast of warm air. Virgil scrambled to open his window and Logan quickly shut off the air flow. “Because the channel is called ‘VergeofDiscovery’, not the childish pun Patton came up with.”

 “The Theory of Real-Activity is an amazing name, and I will fight you on this. You’re just jealous that you didn’t come up with it.”

 “Falsehood!”

 “Keep telling yourself that, nerd. Pass me the aux cord.”

The drive home was lighter than the last one – Virgil never once changed the music and the two could be heard screaming along as they flew down the road. The stress ball remained in the cup holder, untouched until the next big adventure.

[fouxtte-blog]

okay so i don't want to copy each symbol in but -- i'm just going to say all of the headcanons in that last meme you reblogged because i want to know alllllllllll the things please.

(( @tuppencetrinkets — headcanon meme ))

thank u so much!! gonna be a long post, so dropping it under a readmore!

—– Send ❂ for a like headcanon.

as i’m certain shows with the blog coloring, fayne really likes pastel colors. pinks, blues, and greens in particular. she also likes neon green, but only sometimes… and only on certain things like curtains or bedspreads. 

—– Send ✄ for a favorite movie of my muse’s. 

wall-e. the space dancing scene gets her every time. 

—– Send ✚ for one of my muse’s prized possessions.

pointe shoes. her first pair. in ballet. getting your very first pair of pointe shoes means that you’ve reached a higher level of skill, so its really an important event. and even though she has to buy new ones fairly often, now, fayne still brings her first pair with her to each performance, tucked away in her bag like a good luck charm. 

—– Send ✿ for a happy memory.

any time she spent with aunt cynthia. but, one particular memorable sleepover was when her aunt allowed her to watch Jurassic Park. fayne, of course, did not sleep at all that night, fearing raptors coming charging into her room or a t-rex breaking through her window  ( perhaps showing it to an, already prone to nightmares, 10 year old wasn’t her aunt’s best idea, after all. )  and her parents had a fit the next day when they found out. but, it was an amazing, thrilling night that fayne remembers fondly. 

—– Send ♡ for a friendship headcanon.

fayne never truly had any friends growing up. she was privately tutored for any actual schoolwork, and the rest of the time was spent training. there were a few occasions when she would attend a ballet class with other children her age. she got along fairly well with most of them and they’d have fun dancing together… but, then she was always whisked off to another studio, another instructor. eventually, she gave up trying to make friends altogether. 

—– Send ♬ for a childhood headcanon.

fayne was never really allowed much in the way of an actual childhood. the only times she was ever really treated as a child, and not a pupil, was during her time with aunt cynthia. those are the only times she can recall playing on playgrounds, or watching cartoons, or eating more sweets than she needed. or anything childlike in general. 

—– Send ☼ for a dream headcanon.

fayne tends not to remember her dreams unless they’re very strange…. such as arm wrestling a grizzly bear in space, for instance. her subconscious can be very bizarre when it chooses. 

—– Send ♧ for a cooking headcanon.

fayne is actually a decent cook, although she doesn’t do it very often. normally, she won’t have time and simply orders room service or take-out. 

—– Send ❧ for a food headcanon.

she really loves spicy foods. the spicier the better. in fact, if it doesn’t have five peppers beside its name on a menu, she might consider it a little on the bland side. 

—– Send ★ for a talent headcanon.

puzzle solving. originally she picked it up as a way to occupy her time during the long trips between performances / instructors, but she’s gotten quite good at it. she can solve word puzzles, number puzzles, picture puzzles, etc. in very short time. 

—– Send ❀ for a crush my muse has had.

she doesn’t really have crushes, per se. she has infatuations and lusts. to her, crushes are reserved for something more innocent, long-term, like a high-school sweetheart. what she has are quick, over in a moment, not usually built on anything other than physical attraction. 

—– Send △ for a sex headcanon.

she varies between top and bottom, depending on the day. sometimes she loves taking control and, other times, she’s just content to lie back and enjoy the moment. 

—– Send ➷ for a sports headcanon.

fayne did try competitive swimming at one point, when she was very young, but her parents were both very quick to shut that down because  “ that’s not what we’re training you to do “ . 

—– Send ♤ for a ‘dislike’ headcanon.

she’s actually grown to dislike sweet foods over the past few years. partly because they are a painful reminder of the times she spent with her aunt, and also because she feels sugary foods are childish. she’ll still enjoy a cupcake or ice cream cone from time to time, but for the most part, fayne will turn them away if offered. 

—– Send ♆ for something my muse hates.

her parents… HATE may be a bit of a strong word, but she definitely harbors a strong animosity toward them both. pushing her into a career she didn’t want, denying her a childhood, not allowing her to attend her aunt’s funeral… and these are merely a handful of reasons. if she never got to see her parents again, fayne would not be sad. 

—– Send ⊗ for a phobia headcanon.

lifelike inanimate objects. dolls, mannequins. at one theater she performed at, they were storing a realistic puppet for an upcoming show in her changing room. fayne absolutely REFUSED to be in there unless it was first temporarily removed, or one of her fellow ballerinas sat in the room with her. this fear has grown worse the older she’s become. 

—– Send ☾ for a sleep headcanon.

fayne does, surprisingly, have a very well obeyed sleep schedule. she’s in bed no later than 10 pm  ( on nights when she’s not spending time in a bar or in another’s company, that is )  and always awake by 8 am. 

—– Send ✜ for a fear headcanon.

failure. its been so ingrained in her that she must always be perfect, that the fear of falling below those expectations puts tremendous strain on her nerves. failure means punishment. a fall or slip means rebuke. not achieving a prize in a competition ensures absolute silence and disappointment from her parents until she manages to win another. she cannot fail. she cannot “let” herself fail. she’s terrified of the possibility. 

—– Send ☠ for a death headcanon.

fayne has no belief in an afterlife of any kind. while she does enjoy the thought of ghosts and spirits, she does not think they’re truly possible. and she certainly has no hope in any sort of deity. 

—– Send ◊ for a headcanon of the mun’s choice.

her favorite method of affection is affirmation. tell her she’s doing a good job. encourage her. praise her. especially during sex. the things it does to her, oh boy.  but even outside of the bedroom, the poor girl needs a little reassurance sometimes, considering she’s so paralyzingly scared of failure. a little boost to let her know she’s doing okay does wonders for her mood / self-esteem.