#I’m pretty sure my friend knows I have tics

[frickityfrackityfuckingshit]

Me: *scribbles on friend’s page*

Me: the demon wanted to tell you something

Friend: *hesitantly* what does it say

Me: I don’t fucking know I’m not the demon

[eat-limes-bitches]

Take A Chance

PAIRING: Female Reader x  Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY:  Who knew one look could calm the raging storm of his mind.

SONG Be Brave by Owl City

WARNINGS: Angst, (Bucky's self-loathing, anxiety, mention of nightmares, hinting to PTSD) Fluff!!!

Word Count: 1212

A/N: Hi! Here is the 2nd part! Sorry, it took so long! If you haven't read the first part yet you can click HERE to read it first, but you don't have to, you can read this as a stand-alone. I've already started part 3 so be on the lookout for that!

Enjoy! <3

Divider by Rookthorne

Bucky stood outside Joe’s coffee shop a little before nine, fiddling with the bouquet in his hands, tracing his eyes over the colored petals. He had asked the little old lady at the flower shop what would be best. She had looked him over thoughtfully before producing the bouquet with a smile, shooing him off insiting he not pay, as he was a regular there and had never bought flowers for a special someone before. He stuck the cash he intended to pay her in the tip jar and shuffled out the door and over to Joe’s where he was now standing. 

Was this too old-fashioned? Do girls even like flowers anymore? What if she doesn’t even show up? I’ll look like an idiot.

He began to question himself, starting to become nervous. He rubbed a gloved hand over his thigh as he began to spiral, but a sweet voice pulled him out of it before he descended too far into madness. 

“Hi, Bucky!”

Bucky froze and turned around to look at the speaker. Sure enough, there was the woman from the movie theater the night before. She smiled sweetly at him, her eyes bright and warm, chasing off the chill of the January air. Bucky shook his head and cleared his throat,

“Oh! Um- Hi, Y/n.” He offered her an awkward smile as he handed her the bouquet, “These are for you.”

She gingerly took the flowers from him, eyes wide as she looked at them before shifting her gaze up to his. The longer she stayed silent, the more dread he felt building up in his stomach. 

“I-I’m sorry, it was probably stupid and old-fashioned but my ma woulda killed me if she knew I went to meet a pretty girl without flowers a-and I didn’t know what to get so the lady at the store told me-”

His rambling was cut off when Y/n waved her hand. 

“No! I love them! It’s just, no one has ever bought me flowers before.” She said shyly, looking down at her boots. Now it was Bucky’s turn to be surprised, how had no one ever bought her flowers, he would never understand. He made a silent vow to himself to buy her as many flowers as he could. 

“Oh, well, I’m glad you like them.” He said softly, the corner of his lips turning up in a small but genuine smile as he motioned to the coffee shop. “Shall we?” Y/n smiled and nodded and the pair made their way into the shop. As soon as Bucky opened the door, a sense of comfort washed over him along with the smell of fresh coffee and pastries. The pair shuffled inside and up to the counter.  The kid who worked behind the counter on Saturdays came over and took their orders, saying that he would be bringing it over to their table shortly. Bucky motioned for Y/n to pick a seat and she picked the booth in the back of the shop. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” She said as Bucky began to sit down, “I like to be able to see everything, makes me feel a little more at ease.”

Bucky smiled, he didn’t mind at all, in fact, he felt much more comfortable at the back of the shop. He was no longer the Winter Soldier but some of those habits are hard to break, like making note of every exit and entrance of a place, keeping a head count on everyone that entered and left, double locking doors, and many other little tics. 

“No, this is fine,” he said with a smile, “This is my usual booth.”

She smiled brightly at him and seemed to relax a bit before asking, “So do you come here often?” 

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows as he thought about his response, trying to decide how to say it without giving away who he was all at once. 

“Uh yeah, a friend of mine brought me here when I was trying to find myself after coming back from a hard time in life.” He internally cringed at his explanation gauging Y/n’s reaction as she thought about his words. She gave him a soft smile and nodded before she spoke;

“Yeah, Steve was a great guy like that, I’m sure it’s been hard on you since he left.” Bucky felt his blood run cold Shit, she does know who I am, she thinks I’m a monster. How does she know Steve? Is she from HYDRA? I knew this was too good to be true, no one would ever want someone like me. His thoughts began to spiral out of control until Y/n tapped on the table to get him to look at her. She gave him a sheepish smile;

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have dropped that on you like that. It wasn’t fair of me. I’m sure you think I’m a spy or something but I promise you I’m not. I was neighbors with Steve for a time. He spoke very fondly of you, even after all of the fighting and horrible things that happened to you and I’m sorry about that. No one deserves what you went through.”

Her words were soft and gentle as if she were talking to a frightened animal. Bucky blinked in surprise, staying quiet for a few moments before speaking again,

“You don’t think I’m a monster?” Her rasped out.

She gave him a sad smile as she placed her hand on top of his, “You’re not a monster. You’re a mirror, a thing that shows the reflection of the real monsters, with the cracks to prove that you lived through it. There is good in you, there always has been. It was the one thing in this century Steve was 100 percent certain of. I trust him and his judgment. I don’t care what anyone else says.”

These words triggered some sort of visceral response in Bucky. His racing heart slowed down, breathing coming back to normal levels, and his thoughts, for the first time in a while, stilled. The incessant hurricane of toxic thoughts and poisonous memories dissolved, leaving clear skies instead, something so beautiful it almost brought tears to his eyes. He looked down at the table and took her hand in his, looking back up with a soft smile. 

Y/n gave His hand a gentle squeeze. She knew what he was trying to say, and she didn’t need to hear the words to know what it was. Their orders were brought out and so they shared small talk, which seemed to come so easily but he was taking little notes of each of her responses, not wanting to forget a single detail.

Favorite color? Bue, but not bright blue. Soft, like worn denim.

Dogs or cats? Both are great, but she currently has a dog.

Favorite time of day? Early evening. The world starts to darken and you can just see the stars poking through the colors of the sky.

The longer they talked, the more the storm was tamed in Bucky’s mind and he realized that he could get used to this kind of peace that he hadn’t known in a long time, only if she was there with him.

[tryingtofindava]

pls im begging for dating ticci toby headcanons 🙏🙏

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ‘𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢’ 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬*ೃ༄

tw: mention of manic episode.

: ̗̀➛ Back to source

My god.

This boy is full of so much love.

Y’all take FOREVER to actually get together.

It got to the point where Toby got frustrated and was all like “should I just kill them?” (Assuming you ain’t a proxy)

What I’m tryna say is he’s sorta oblivious to his feelings towards you.

But he’s so scared to get attached to you, cuz every time he’s ever gotten close to someone they die.

But when y’all (finally) get together after a long ahh slow burn.

YOU TWO ARE LITERALLY THE CUTEST OMD.

He was so surprised that you said yes when he asked you out. Like- you? The pretty girl who he had the the pleasure of becoming friends with???? Says yes to him????

He’s so happy

Buttttttttttttttt.

So awkward it’s almost painful.

Onetime you kissed him on his cheek, bro was all like ‘🧍’

But when you guys get past that awkward stage? You guys are practically attached to the hip.

And I know most of the fandom hates the ‘soft Toby’ stereotype, but I feel like that’s just how he is w you (though he does have his moments…)

Lots of reassurance. It’s needed if y’all wanna last.

He isn’t used to have someone be so affectionate towards him. Since deadass the only person who’s showed him genuine love was Lyra.

When y’all first met, he’d always wear a massive ass bandage over the gash on his cheek.

Every time you saw it you gave him the ‘🤨’ look, which he’s just shrug it off. And when you’d ask him about it, he’d say something like:

“It’s ruh-rude to ask t-that.”

He’d even continue wearing it INTO your dating life, he’ll eventually cave in since it’s been around 8 months of him wearing it around you. And a wound would normally be healed by now.

He wasn’t at all surprised by your reaction of shock.

He’ll always have it on out of the apartment though. No exceptions.

He calls you ‘pretty thing’ sm it becomes a tic.

Eskimo kisses? Eskimo kisses.

He try’s his best to keep the whole murder part of his life away from you. But it’s obvious so… that was one long night of going over things.

Anywaysssss.

AQUARIUM DATES! Y’all get in your grandpa jumpers and walk around the aquarium holding hands and looking at all the cool fish n’ shit.

HE LOVES LOVES LOVES NECK KISSES.

He’s a slut for knowing he’s yours.

He loves teasing the shit outta you for being short. Even though he’s like 3 inches taller

“I’ve been b-breaking my buh-back k-k-kissing you, babe.”

“Piss off.”

He loves laying between your legs with his face flushed against your chest while you run your fingers through his hair and itch his scalp.

When you guys are sleeping, you’ll constantly have to make sure he doesn’t get too over headed or cold due to his CIPA.

Speaking of sleeping, he grinds his teeth while he’s dreaming. So just gently grab his chin to stop him. And he’s a deep ass sleeper so he won’t feel it lol.

He isn’t a big fan of PDA when you guys aren’t behind closed doors, but he’ll ALWAYS hold your hand.

On the less sappy note, when he’s having a tic attack he will not allow you to come near him. He’s so scared of hurting you.

And when he’s having an episode?

Make sure you stay calm. And maybe get to him before he gets to you. He’ll be so upset if he did hurt you while going through one of his schizophrenic like states.

To help him through his manic episode, stay as calm as you can, let him know that, although you don’t share the belief that it’s real, you understand that it is real to him. Try and keep focused on supporting him with how he’s feeling in that moment, rather than confirming or challenging his reality.

If he does snap at you, he’ll feel so guilty. He will think that he’s just like his dad.

He’ll probably disappear for a few days, but when he comes back he’s begging for you to not leave him. Like he’s full on sobbing.

Hold him.

He’s clingy. Like super clingy. Clingy to the point where it just becomes obnoxious. And gets a bit irritating but he means well :(

He loves you like a dog, and he’ll do anything for you. He trusts you with his whole being and hopes you feel the same.

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

[beemochi-art]

Thoughts on the transformers one movie?

Me? you wanna here my thoughts about the TF one?

SURE!!

First off the movie looks amazing, the ost is incredible, the voice acting is pretty good and the writing is Awesome! The pacing a little fast, the story movie kinda quickly which is fine, I’d rather have a fast movie then a slow one.

You can tell the actors really cared about this movie, I have never seen actors get this much into the marketing for anything! Brian Tyree Henry did an amazing job for Megatron, by far he was the best.

There was plenty of action! The fighting and weight of the character was great, you can tell they were really hitting each other hard. This movie had a lot of love put into it. Incredible watching experience.

D16 was the star of the show! In my opinion at least! They were able to capture the innocence and the loss of that innocence really well. The slight character tics also didn’t get past me and did a lot to add to the emotions the character were showing.

I loved this movie, and I will be watching more as soon as I can! I accidentally missed that end credits scene. We were just too excited and wanted to talk about it!

!!SPOILER REVIEW!! ⬇️

Alright! This movie fulfill something the fans have been asking for year for. The Orgin of Optimus prime and Megatron on the big screen. We all knew it was going to be a tragedy! Whether you ship Megop or not, we can all appreciate the loss of someone close, when we think we know someone but then seemingly out of nowhere, they flip. But I assure you, the flip was not out of no where.

But before I get to the main two I want to talk about everyone else first.

ELITA AND BEE

Sorry Oplita fans, Elita is on a path to get that promotion and get that bag! Elita is in fact a mean boss babe, but that not all she is. She is a strong and determined worker. Even tho she is one of the lower classes bots she does everything with a sense of pride, no matter what she’s doing. She cares a lot, her gruff and aggressive attitude may try to hide it but I see past that. Although she really didn’t have an arc to her character you know? Idk I might have to watch it again.

Bee is the goofster to the group. Very cute and very funny. He really didn’t have an arc either and I wish he did. Bee was mostly there to serve as the comedic relief. And honestly I think we all needed. He wasn’t ever too annoying or obnoxiously stupid. I very much enjoyed him!

Sentinel Prime

God what a fantastic villain he was! Kinda sad he died. I always knew Dee would kill him. He was just as pompous and trashy diplomat as I hoped. Such good lines from him. He died like a dog and couldn’t be happier. We didn’t get to see his alt mode which made me kind of sad. He’s like a mega church pastor! They are usually secretly evil. Him turning the tides of the battle with the primes is something else dude.

ORION

Oh god here we go. His character was just fantastic! I’m really happy we are getting an origin story. His personality being the adventurists, rowdy, troublesome questioner is so cool! And such a big contrast to the usual iterations of Orion pax. He’s stray kitten coded. His young age makes him optimistic, selfish and naive. It also causes him to mistreat Dee; having the best intentions of course, even tho he completely disregards what Dee feels. It started off as him just wanting to be seen and help his people to everything quickly getting out of hand and him losing his best friend. I’m sure he regrets making Dee participate in that race. His issue just being childlike innocence and being self centered.

DEE (aka Dean. Aka Megatron.)

Oh god y’all aren’t ready for this one!

Dee starts off as the goodest boy. Will of whimsy! But like most villains all it takes is one bad day. Oh Dee you poor thing. If robots could cry he would have like four times in this movie.

Good Christian boy. Followed the rules, didn’t ask questions and had unwavering love for the Primes. Megatronus and Sentinel being the big two.

It’s cool to think of Dee eyes being a dead giveaway to how he’s feeling. Betraying him even in the final scene.

“NO, I WANT TO KILL HIM!”

This part! This is my favorite part of the whole movie. Dee had the audience full attention. The desperation, sadness and anger in his voice. Fantastic! As D16’s friend, this needed to be addressed immediately. But I can understand Orion not knowing what to say or how to comfort him, cause as a kid yourself what do you even say to that?? Orion always knew something was wrong, he was the questioner, but to Dee this was his life. To Orion, Sentinel Prime’s betrayal wasn’t that deep. But this was Dee’s life, he followed them without question, just to see his hero struck down in cold blood. His anger is something Orion can’t comprehend, he never knew he had that in him. I think Orion could probably right this off the first time but it wouldn’t be that last time D16 would start scaring Orion.

I’ve always heard people describe Dee has flipping his personality. There is no flip. Dee is deceptively passive. His whole life has been flipped and need Orions support. But sadly that moment would never show up. I don’t even think Orion would know how to go about it since he was so focused on his goal. My mom said Orion was a bit irritating because  he couldn’t properly read his friend.

At first I thought he had carved this into himself. Which is bad, really bad. But I think Sentinel doing it to him actually makes it worse. He hasn’t just mutilated Dee once, But twice. He took something he liked, something that was special, something that was a symbol of him and Orions friendship and made it cause him pain. It’s like the last of his innocence being taken away from him.

So when he was trying to kill Sentinels and Orion was holding him back he said “He needs to die.” And that last part sounding so emotional hits so hard. He loved Sentinel. You can hear the hurt and sadness in his voice for megatronus prime, sentinel the other miners, but mostly for himself. And almost all that hurt Orion had to say “you’ll be like sentinel.”

Oh brother that was no the move. Immediately upon it being compared to sentinel by his best friend, the rage returned. Blinded by his rage he accidentally shot Orion.

Finally we have Megatron. Bro is on his Kratos arc. Sentinel was driven by greed. Megatron is driven by his hate and anger.

This by far the best transformers movie. I think ever.

[velvet-games]

this was gonna just be an extension of this drabble, but it ended up being a sequel to this lol. I'll publish them as two chapters of one work on ao3 if I don't end up hating it after a day.

Vox slammed his face into the keyboard, unable to focus for the fiftieth time in the last hour. “Do you really have to be here?”

“Of course not!” Alastor grinned, the edges of his mouth almost running off the sides of his face. “I’m just here to make this as difficult as possible for you.” He rolled over to lay on his stomach, a position that couldn’t have been comfortable considering how bony his ribs were and how hard the metal table under him was. 

“Right. Well, at least you’re being honest,” Vox grumbled. He looked up at the screen. The setup wasn’t even close to what they had at V Tower, but Lucifer “I’ve literally never touched a computer ever because I locked myself in my room for 50 years” Morningstar could only do so much for the spare room they put Vox in. At least Lucifer had been apologetic enough to manifest a shark. Well, duck-shark. Shark-duck? The thing had a beak and wings and was currently flapping happily in a too-small tank in the middle of the room. 

Alastor rested his chin on his hands, legs swinging behind him like this was a sleepover he couldn’t wait to share gossip at. “Soooo, how is the presentation coming along?”

“It’s going great, Bambi!” Vox replied through gritted teeth. “Your commentary is greatly improving the quality of this video that I am very excited to be working on.” He considered whether he could stretch the definition of “working with the Vees” to exclude giving Velvette a hint to say Alastor had rabies on stream that day, but the pain in his side and Alastor’s serrated teeth five feet away from him squashed the thought after about five seconds. 

“Oh, stop it,” Alastor said cheekily, like he’d just been given a compliment. “All credit goes to that delightfully wicked head of yours, my friend!”

Vox dragged his hands over his face, screen briefly sliding over to an old tab before he switched it back again. “I am actually never going to finish this,” he muttered under his breath. “Don’t you have other shit to be doing right now? I thought you were the fucking hotelier.”

“Oh, I just insisted to Charlie that it was very important for me to watch over our new guest! I know better than anyone what you’re like when you’re up to no good; we are best friends, after all.”

That … stung a little, actually. Vox finally gave up, slumping right out of his chair and sitting on the ground. Because he was right; Alastor did know better than anyone. God, Vox had been so ready to show that son of a bitch everything, every tic and every tell, when they’d first met. And they weren’t best friends. Despite the very convincing declaration they made of their “making up” in front of Charlie, they weren’t friends at all. Was the stab wound bleeding again?

“Are you sure that knife wasn’t angelic steel?” Vox asked miserably. “I think my stitches just popped.”

“Absolutely certain,” Alastor replied. “You’re just a wimp.” He considered for a moment, tapping his chin with a finger. “Or Lucifer is just really bad at healing. Oh, or he hates you! Neither would be surprising.”

Vox unbuttoned his suit and pulled up his vest. “Alastor, I’m actually bleeding.”

“What, is that an invitation?” Alastor asked, tongue poking out while his face made an expression worryingly close to hunger. Vox did his best not to react to that. “Oh, fine. I’ll go get the supplies.”

Vox let himself slide all the way to the floor, looking up at the blinding fluorescent lights during the five minutes it took for Alastor to come back. His touch was surprisingly gentle on Vox’s skin, hands quick and practiced in replacing the stitches. 

“I’m beginning to think you’re doing this on purpose,” Alastor said. “What, desperate for my hands on you?”

Vox just blinked tiredly up at him. “Your eyes are real pretty.”

Alastor sighed, tying the last stitch. “I greatly enjoy the concept of you impotently adoring me while I offer nothing in return, but you openly expressing infatuation is disgusting.”

“Alastor, I was having the worst week of my life even before you blew up my house and stabbed me. Can you just. Not be an asshole for two seconds.”

“What, did Valentino break up with you again?” Alastor asked, but he sounded tired too. 

“Yes. Plus bullshit at the company. Also, I found out my wife actually did end up down here somehow and an exorcist killed her before I could see her again. I never got to apologize.”

“I didn’t know you had a wife.”

“Yeah, well.” Vox winced as he started to sit up, and Alastor placed a hand at the small of his back as support. “Not exactly a pleasant memory.”

“And what, you decided to weaponize your vulnerability at this moment to garner sympathy? Surely you know by now that my remorse is a very small, very dry pond that I reserve for people far more deserving than you.”

“Why do you assume everyone’s as much of a manipulative asshole as you are?”

“Oh, am I not talking to the demonic overlord that hypnotizes people into buying his brainless bargain bin products?”

“Fuck off.” They sat in irritated silence for a while. A minute later, Alastor seemed to get bored and started buttoning up Vox’s shirt again, pulling his vest down before Vox grabbed his wrist. Alastor wrenched his hand out of his grasp. 

“I didn’t know you were capable of apologizing. Properly, anyway.”

“She deserved better than me.”

“Oh, not again with the disingenuous self-deprecation.” Alastor rolled his eyes, but his tone was quickly becoming genuinely bitter instead of unbothered and entertained. 

“And you with the projection! I am actually capable of love, you heartless freak,” Vox spat. Alastor visibly clenched his jaw at that, which brought some sliver of pleasure to Vox’s frankly very depressing headspace. “She offed herself and I didn’t call the police in time to save her. Too busy having a panic attack about all the blood on the floor, I guess.”

“My, how times have changed.”

“They have, haven’t they?” Vox eyed Alastor, who had his brows furrowed and was now picking at a frayed edge on his coat. They indulged in another minute of silence. “You know, I actually haven’t produced a video by myself in like … at least 15 years.” Before Alastor could make another snide comment about Vox’s very sensible decision to delegate tasks more efficiently, Vox said, “I still direct everything! Almost everything. Whatever. I just. I feel like I’ve forgotten how to write a script.”

“Then improvise. You had plenty of great lines about how irrelevant I am and how little you care about me during our little scuffle months ago.”

“My hatred for you caused a burst of inspiration hitherto undreamt of.”

Alastor finally pulled out the loose thread he’d been tugging at and stood up, extending a hand. “I’ll help you write.”

—

It was a nightmare at first. Alastor was less interested in writing than just making fun of everything Vox came up with, which led to an argument that very nearly popped Vox’s stitches again. Eventually, mercifully, Alastor rolled his eyes after 30 minutes of watching Vox try not to injure himself out of frustration, pulling the typewriter (old man refused to touch the laptop) toward himself and actually starting to bounce ideas off of Vox.

“I mean, their whole thing is that they’re overconfident narcissists, right?” 

“It takes one to know one.” Alastor grinned.

Vox ignored him. “So we need to stroke their egos–”

“Make us sound like poor old souls in dire need of an angel’s insufferable savior complex,” Alastor finished.

“Exactly.” Vox scrubbed through some of his surveillance footage on the hotel. The amount of video he had of Alastor compared to the rest of the crew was … maybe a little disproportionate. But who wouldn’t want 20 different angles of the radio demon sitting down to drink tea? “Uh. How do we do that?”

“Well, we also need to consider the fact that they haven’t lifted a finger to ‘help’ us since the birth of Hell. They’re only concerned now because their reputation is on the line.”

“Aha! Fear! Primary emotion we target in the news broadcasts.”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “Yes, because journalism is as dead as we are,” he said. But his smile was wide.

“So we make ‘em scared. Bruise their fragile egos with the idea that they could be seen as incompetent or powerless. Then we swoop in and offer the solution: They can play the hero, flowers and applause and all, if they help.”

“Precisely.” Alastor’s eyes were bright. “So we start with Pentious. They’re already censoring his existence because he’s proof that they were wrong; we rub it in their faces that it was always clear he was redeemable, but Heaven was just too blind to see it. The villain in our underdog’s story.”

And on they went. Alastor’s smile was becoming worryingly genuine, and Vox started to feel a pit in his stomach. It was so easy. The conversation flowed just like they had during those late nights soaked with alcohol and happy tears, ink smudging under their fingertips as they drafted the most ridiculous, most unusable, most compelling scripts known to demonkind. It was like nothing had changed, like Alastor hadn’t devalued everything Vox had worked for, like Vox hadn’t made a fool of himself trying to get Alastor to act like he cared. Like they hadn’t both begged each other to give up who they were, just to feel like this again. Together. In sync.

Vox finally lost it when Alastor complimented the editing style.

“WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP??” Vox stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over behind him. 

Alastor just stared for a moment. He tilted his head. “I take full responsibility for the reasons why what I’m about to say may seem improbable, but I really did mean that as a compliment. It wasn’t back-handed.”

“No, what!?” Vox tried to even out his breathing, pulling up his chair so he could sit back down again. “Fuck, I-I can’t stand you.”

“Hm. That does seem to have been a pattern in our relationship. Can you be more specific about how I offended you this time?”

“You’re just being really fucking annoying.”

“You seemed to enjoy me ‘being really fucking annoying’ two minutes ago. What changed?”

“Nothing! I just remembered – I …” Vox let out a shaky breath, voice lowering. “I just remembered how nice this was.”

Alastor raised a brow. “... And that caused you to scream and knock over your chair like a toddler?”

“No! I mean, yes?” Vox sighed. “I just … can’t I fucking hate you in peace? You’re just reminding me why – why I still–” His eyes darted around wildly, looking anywhere but Alastor’s face. “You just make it so fucking complicated.”

There was a long, torturous silence before Alastor responded. “Why you still … what?”

Vox finally looked up. “Why I still love you,” he said, words quiet and muffled by static. “Why I still want us to work together, why I still want to wake up next to you every damn day–” His voice cracked, and a beat passed as he swallowed, trying and failing to regain some semblance of composure. “Why I’m still not over the fact that you’ll never want any of that too.”

Alastor’s expression was unreadable, every part of his body completely, eerily still. “Don’t cry over spilled milk, dear,” he finally said. His voice was quiet, surprisingly clear. “We’re working together right now, aren’t we? Allow yourself to enjoy it, and whatever happens next will happen.” He touched Vox’s knee briefly, claws angled away so they didn’t catch the fabric of his slacks. “You … reminded me of something too.”

[calciumdeficientt]

Wade and Tom hcs pleaseeeee 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

I lov u wade i lov you tom. I actually have a whole post of tom hcs that you can check out here:

but i for sure have a few left in the tank!!!!!!1! Im gonna spritz some of my remaining tom ones, release my wade ones unto the world and then zoom in a little on their relationship >:D

TOM GURNEY AND WADE MARTIN HCS

TOM GURNEY

Skin picker. Big time skin picker. He just cant seem to help himself, its sort of a nervous tic. If he could just leave his fucking face alone for five minutes his acne would have cleared up a long time ago. Most of the marks on his face are actually just scars because he wont stop PICKING!!!!!

Saw the hobo get beamed up after the last fighting moves mission, i know this is pretty much canon atp but i think what would make it so much more batshit is if it had happened in BROAD DAYLIGHT. And no one other than tom gave a fuck. He comes out with all kinds of stupid conspiracy shit on the daily so no one even thinks to try and argue. They’re all like “yeeeah okay buddy whatever you say..”

Very emotionally mature, because of this he’s very painfully aware of all his shortcomings. He’s a good dude at heart but its aside pf him people never see. He’s pretty well renowned as the clique tapper, but honestly, he only talks so much because he doesnt wanna worry his friends by being all quiet and mysterious.

WADE MARTIN

MAAAAAAJOR little brother syndrome. He and Christy are only a year or so apart (possibly projecting bc that’s the gap between me and MY brother) but he gives me the vibe of a little kid who feels the need to show off because he’s younger. His general demeanour and outlook on the world tells me that he’s sort of crying out for attention and to some degree, help. He talks a lot about repeated suspensions, and the fact that no one seems to care about them anymore, and also the fact that he’s not doing all that well in his classes. He’s a kid that neeeds intervention, a firm shove in the right direction… and maybe some counselling. He’s practically jumping up and down on the spot yelling ‘LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT MEEE!’

More family hcs, but he and Christy only share their father. They have different mothers. Both women aren’t really in the picture beyond what the custody laws state they have to be. Christy’s mum left her with their dad when she was a baby, and Wade’s mum was his side piece. They divorced when Wade was 11. He hates both their guts for separating in what was a pretty tumultuous transition period in his life. If I’m getting my numbers right, 10-11 is the transition from elementary school to middle school. It was during this time that Wade started to struggle, he was a gifted student in his early years, and thus was left to his own devices. Because of that lack of support, his grades slipped and slipped and slipped, he just barely passed the entrance exam to get into Bullworth, and then started outright failing.

His hyper sexual voice lines are a way of deflecting away from how he really feels. Encouraged by his father, Wade feels he has to be this big, macho guy. He’s been brought up by his dad to believe high school is all about chasing tail and finding someone willing to have your kids straight out of the gate. In his head, Wade’s not about that at all. He wasn’t quite ready to be a man, he’d have liked a few more years of being a kid. Manhood is this big, scary, complex thing that he’s not ready for yet.. especially if its anything like Mr Martin tells him it is.

Takes great pride in his hair, but he does dye it. You can’t be a ginger bully, that’s like a spoon with holes in it or concrete scuba flippers. It doesnt work, its weird. It’s ugly. He and Trent do their hair together, he trusts Trent with it more than he trusts himself, the kid has been bleaching his own hair since he was 12, he’s a professional. And besides, he’s not gonna pay someone in a salon to dye it, what if he gets caught????

WADE AND TOM

They’re very close friends, I think wade was one of Tom’s first friends at Bullworth, back when he was this scrawny, quiet kid with a big ol birthmark over his eye. Wade had intended to beat the crap out of him to show him what was what, he looked weak and easy to snap. All brittle like a wafer cookie. Upon seeing his eye, Wade wrongfully assumed that someone has beat him to it, and knowing what a tumultuous home life could do to a kid, he invited Tom to come sit with them at lunch and he just… never left.

They really remind me of Troy and Abed from community dynamic-wise. One emotionally mature, but mildly childish dude (Tom) and one smarter than he appears meathead (Wade). Where they differ from Troy and Abed is instead of building blanket forts and acting out TV shows, they give swirlies and smoke cigarettes like they’re going out of fashion. “…” “…” “you wanna go do burnouts in the train yard dont you Wade” “Get OUUTA MY FRIGGIN BRAIN MAN! How’d you know that?!” “Lucky guess.”

Closer with each other than anyone else in the bullies clique. They lay on the roof after curfew and talk. For HOURS. They’ve been doing it for so long now that they’ve started smuggling sleeping bags and blankets up there so they can just sleep once they’re done. Wade likes that he can be open with his troubles about home., his many many troubles. Every day there’s a new home trouble. Tom talks about his fears about the secrecy at Bullworth and his theories, he feels like Wade is the only one that even bothers to TRY and see his point of view. Wade cries a lot during these little almost-therapy sessions. And Tom is right there with him, patting his back and wiping his tears. It’s cute.

Garage band duo. Tom is the drummer, Wade plays the three power chords he knows on his busted up hand-me-down Stratocaster that can barely plug into the amp anymore and really desperately needs new strings, and screams into the mic. It’s pretty hardcore, but it doesn’t actually sound all that bad. They work pretty well as a two piece and have played a total of four gigs, but its always been foe them anyway. They don’t wasn’t the gig money or the fame, they just wanna rock out.

[frenchfriez15]

About me

A few things to know about me and all that jazz

Age: minor! Not comfortable with sharing exact age

favorite color(s): Cobalt blue, jade green, mint blue, and more shadow colors!

Favorite number: 15!!

pronouns!: she/they(I prefer those!)

favorite singers: Sodikken, Jack stauber, miracle musical, the living tombstone, hazbin hotel soundtrack, most vocaloid stuff, mean girls musical soundtrack, Olivia Rodrigo, Penelope Scott, Taylor swift, and Sabrina carpenter(ITS A WEIRD COMBO I KNOW)

fandoms is in!!: Welcome home, DDLC, kinitopet, miraculous, gravity falls, helluva boss, Hazbin hotel, Hatsune Miku, FPE, Murder drones, poppy playtime, BNA, Bea and puppycat, Komi can’t communicate, muppets, gorilla tag, VR chat, Sesame Street, Wednesday, Taylor swift(💀), animal crossing, ANYWAYS there’s a lot😰😭

hobbies: DRAWING!!! Until I feel like I have carpal tunnel😊, collecting Mee Meows(I LIKE CATS OKAY!!!), drawing online, chilling with my friends, talking to myself, taking to my stuffies, wanting to go to boxlunch and hot topic, listening to music, laughing at nothing!, and looking at memes!

FACTS!!!: anyone I follow on tumblr is who I basically consider my idol, besides Clown (Creator of welcome home, @partycoffin CAUSE LIKE OBVIOUSLY HES LIKE MY #1 IDOL✨) are other good(AWESOME) artists I hope to one day be as great as! This consists of @up-above-in-the-clouds, @i-ate-your-dog-srry, @the-doodle-cave, @lumashiki, @qep0ermint, @frillsand, and @sketchquill !! There’s a few more but I think these people are awesome, yes I know I’m weird for barely knowing these awesome beings and considering them idols- BUT ITS ALL WEIRD HERE!, another fact I HAVE TICS! Not Tourette’s but a few symptoms!, I have bad social anxiety!! And just regular anxiety, paranoia, overthinking, my mom thinks I have ADHD(??), annnnd I might be bipolar??, my birthday is June 8th!, I love winter!!, I’m in California!!(but super pale somehow 🥲), I like watching LaurenZside! And a few GT YouTubers..and animators!, I play VR!! Mostly Yeeps hide and seek, Gorilla tag, and sometimes VR chat!, I LOVE KETCHUP, I have too many fictional crushes🫡, and I have a BESTIE(S) you should sub to her since she really wants to go live! Her YouTube is @WhiteKnees123(she deleted her old YouTube channel which was @Me_potato23! But now she has one video so..meh she’s still awesome though! I got her into Flipaclip and she’s been animating since so YAY✨)pretty sure I’m maybe Asexual?? I’ll have to wait and see! Also maybe Demi-girl and non-binary!

ANNNND that about sums it up!! Sorry there was a lot in there! But that’s about me ig?? ✨✨

And here’s Kinito judging me!!

And a few more😬

[satanscatsworld]

*rolls out from under your bed on a car creeper* May I ask if you could do the last prompt about anxiety and triggering situations, but with Lilia and Cater?

TWST boys’ headcanons with an introvert MC who has anxiety, nervous ticks and who always selflessly insert themself into triggering situations! Lilia + Cater!

What are you doing under my b- oh nevermind- lol.

Sure thing! I hope you will like it, I tried my best ^^!

Enjoy <3333333

Part one with Leona, Jamil, Azul, Floyd and Crewel right here.

----------

Lilia Vanrouge

Oh, that one… How could that one ever miss something about you?

Lilia is sharp when it comes to these things. You see, he’s fairly… Old and experienced, despite not looking like it, and he also raised two wonderful boys that you know well.

He met enough people through ages to learn and read through them.

And you were no exceptions! He could read through you like an open book, and it didn’t take him long before noticing what was going on.

The way you were always saying yes to any request, no matter how awkward it could make you feel, and how busy you were. Oh little one, you just couldn’t say no, could you?

But what also caught his eye, is the was you never turned out anyone, even though the situation triggered you.

Which caused you, and he noticed it pretty quickly as well, to trigger your nervous tics.

He particularly noticed how you would always need to have something in your hands. Be it your rings, or, if you didn’t wear/like jewellery, your phone, your fingers, whatever your hands could grab and crush between them.

Even to the point where it would physically hurt you to do so, you just couldn’t help it when those episodes stroke in.

He didn’t wait long before taking the matter into his own hands though, and soon enough, you would have your boyfriend magically appearing above your head, a sly and cunning smirk on his lips, and scaring the others away.

“Prefect, could you please-” “BOO!” “AHHHh!”

Jokes aside, it would happen a lot. And if people didn’t get the hint, Lilia would tell them himself to grow up and not rely on you for anything and everything, and especially something they know you don’t like to do.

As for your hands, he would help you to take care of them: applying a healing cream, bandages if your nails stabbed your flesh, and he would absolutely not prevent you from nervously holding things in your hands.

Though, to help you calm down he would offer you his hand.

“My, My, Love, one must not refuse a fae’s request, I’ll may end up landing a curse upon you… Haha, gotcha! Just kidding. May you hold my hands? I’m quite the anti-stress par excellence, hehe.”

Cater Diamond

Ay, that one is so underestimated!

Cater may look like he’s an airhead, your typical classmate play-boy, but he’s definitely not and he’s a lot more than that.

He’s actually got quite the observing eye, almost nothing can go past him without him noticing.

He notices when you change your haircut, he knows your favourite things, he notices pretty much anything if that’s about you, his beloved lover.

But this time, only this time, you were the one coming up to him.

It was after a pretty bad triggering episode, the task given to you left you in a pretty bad state, and you struggled very hard. You were so tired of your body not listening to you.

You were so tired of the anxiety crawling on your skin, carving in your flesh, owning your body like its own.

You were also so flustered and awkward after, because some of your classmates happened to witness it, and gave you very heavy weird stares.

You cried in Cater’s arms after that, metaphor or not, when your boyfriend saw your pale and distressed face, he immediately ran up to you and hugged you tight.

Either you tell him or not, he noticed what was going on.

Annnnd you, my friend, is getting pampered!

He wants you to rest, he even gently scolds you for it, and he puts his mind into protecting you even more. That is to say: if he’s not with you, he will tell Adeuce to look out for you more and tell people to scram, if he’s with you, he will wait for you to speak for yourself, and if you can’t, he will for you.

Also! You will often catch him using his unique magic, that literal cheat code, so that even if he’s too busy at the moment, one of his clone will check up on you.

Cater is literally one of the sweetest beans ever, and never judged you for being yourself, especially not in such situations.

#Snuggles #CaringBoyfriend #FavouriteGingerBoy

“MC-ey, look what I got! This is a new plaid blanket, it’s extra soft. Oh, I also got ya one of those essential oil diffusers, I heard it was pretty good to help you calm down with a familiar scent you liked. Here, let’s get comfy!”

[thetomorrowshow]

normal is relative (love is love)

Hola folks! if you weren't aware, i am on hiatus! however despite completely cutting myself off from social media, i haven't stopped writing. i wrote this last week and emailed it over to my bestie and beta reader, afternineattheoasis, who is now posting it here and on tumblr for all to enjoy. otherwise, my queue should post every second tuesday of the month until i'm back :)

~

"And, I was just wondering . . . um, I—oh, this is just—I can't do this."

Doc raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Try again," he said.

Mumbo sighed, adjusted his tie. "Right. Well, I was just in the neighborhood—in the neighborhood? I've never said that in my life, I don't know—"

Doc harrumphed loudly. "Again."

"Okay." Mumbo took a deep breath. "Hi, G! Uh, I was—I have, I mean, or, or, I want? Look, it's—we're, we're good friends, right?"

"Stop."

Mumbo, gratefully, stopped.

Doc watched him for a moment, eyes roving over Mumbo, from his head to his toes. Mumbo stood there, awkwardly, just waiting for him to say something. Anything. Any piece of advice.

"Lose the tie," Doc said eventually.

"I—what? What? Lose the—lose the tie?" Mumbo sputtered. "It's—I always wear a tie!"

"It feels too formal. Take it off."

"That's absolutely ridiculous," Mumbo said. "I don't see how that's supposed to help me."

"I don't see how I am supposed to help you," Doc said. "What do you want from this? Why me?"

Well, Mumbo had thought that was obvious! Why would he go to anyone other than Doc?

"You're the only other aspec person I know," he said, pushing up his sleeves. That felt awkward. He pushed them back down. "I figured, because you and Ren have your—your—"

"Our QPR?" Doc supplied.

"Yes! Yes, that. Well, you and Ren have feelings for each other, and your relationship is a QPR—"

"I do not have feelings for Ren," said Doc, nose wrinkled. "Ren has feelings for me, and I like his feelings."

"Oh. Right." Mumbo blinked a couple of times. He was pretty sure that's exactly what having feelings was, but okay. "Um, well, how did you confess? Or how did Ren confess, I guess? Like, how was it different from confessing other feelings?"

It was Doc's turn to blink, a slow action, his robotic eye spinning circles around in his head. "Different?"

"Yes. How is—" Mumbo patted his pockets, a tic he'd developed some time ago that he did when he was searching for a word or trying to explain something— "How do you confess feelings of like? Isn't that—isn't that weird?"

"I do not understand."

Mumbo bit his lip. Doc had to be messing with him. "Well, like, a love confession is normal. But, well—a platonic confession? And asking to be in a QPR? That's weird."

Doc frowned. "It is still a love confession, Mumbo. Love is love. Platonic, romantic—just two different loves. All deserve a confession."

"Well, sure," Mumbo waved, "but it certainly isn't normal."

"Normal is relative," grumbled Doc. "Nothing is normal."

"Something—some things are normal, and—"

"Ask Zedaph what normal is to him. And then ask Joe. And then ask Keralis. They will all have different answers. Normal is relative."

He shouldn't have tried to argue with Doc. "All right, but, but a committed platonic relationship is not normal to Grian. He could—"

"I don't understand," Doc said. "You care about him, yes?"

Well, yes. Mumbo did care about Grian. He cared about him very much.

But what if Grian felt differently? What if Grian didn't want a committed platonic relationship?

What if Grian wanted more?

What if Mumbo was wrong about everything? What if he didn't actually want a QPR? What if Mumbo wanted more?

"Do you think," he said slowly, "that I might actually want a romantic relationship but I just don't know it? Like—I've never felt this with anyone before—before Grian. Maybe, maybe I actually want to date him, but I don't know it because I don't know what romance feels like and—"

"Do you want to kiss Grian?" Doc asked, one eyebrow raised.

Mumbo felt a bit of revulsion for a second, just to imagine such a thing. That would weird, a total violation of the relationship they have. "No."

"Do you want to woo him?"

That got the same feeling. "No, no—I—"

"Do you want to play footsie under the table and giggle about it?"

Mumbo actually almost gagged. "No, that sounds—"

Doc held his hands up, a look of satisfaction on his face. "There you are. I do not think you have romantic feelings for Grian."

Mumbo wasn't so sure that was a definitive test, but it did help a little bit, in reassuring his identity. He'd been identifying as aromantic and asexual for as long as he knew they existed, but his recent feelings for Grian had made him start to doubt his entire existence. It was good to have that little confirmation.

"Right," he said, still turning Doc's words over in his mind. "Okay. So—but what if Grian doesn't like . . . the idea? Of a, uh, not-romantic relationship?"

Doc sighed. "Mumbo, why are you so afraid of platonic love?"

That—he wasn't afraid of platonic love! He was just—just nervous, he supposed. Nervous that—nervous that Grian would be. Absolutely not afraid.

"Love is love. And besides, you really just want to . . . ah, put a label on your relationship, yes?"

"Well, yes, and also—make it committed? But what if Grian doesn't want—what if he wants a romantic relationship, not with—not with me, with someone else, and I don't—and we're a, uh, platonic couple? And I'm not comfortable with that?"

Doc waved his robotic arm. "Relationship. Such a messy word. Relationships are . . . ah, transitiatory, I suppose? They develop, and change, day to day. Especially in a mixed-orientation relationship, like the one you want to be in."

Mixed-orientation relationship. What, because Grian was alloromantic and Mumbo was aro? Or would it mean something else entirely?

"What exactly is a mixed-orientation relationship?" Mumbo asked hesitantly. "Just to, er, make sure we're on the same page."

"Something like what Ren and I have," Doc explained patiently. "Ren is alloromantic. I am not. Ren has romantic feelings for me. I am fine with it. He knows that I do not return them. It involves much communication, and our boundaries change frequently. That is what you want, yes?"

Not that Mumbo knew what to expect, but that sounded like something that he wanted. Maybe not the whole bit about Ren having romantic feelings anyway. Mumbo didn't really like the idea of Grian wanting that sort of relationship, and Mumbo not being able to provide.

"Does it ever get—is it ever hard, to know—or, does, er, when Ren wants things you don't want, is that hard?"

Doc stared at him for a moment, clearly trying to parse out the question. He chuckled suddenly, crossing one leg over the other.

"Right, I forgot that you're asexual also," he said, still chuckling. "No. No, Ren and I never have that problem."

That was probably too much information. Mumbo could've lived without knowing that. He could feel his ears heating up, like they always did when he got embarrassed. Change the subject change the subject—

"Um, right then. But, like—did you ever feel bad that you can't, you know, return his feelings? Give him what he wants—in like, a feelings, romance sense? You know?"

Doc, again, sighed. "Mumbo Jumbo, my platonic . . . er, love for Ren is not worth less than romantic love. They are equal, if different. You must understand that before anything, yes? There is no love greater than another. All love is worthy of love."

Mumbo knew that. He really did. He knew about love, and the different kinds. He had learned that being aspec didn't mean broken, just different.

Why couldn't he keep it straight when it came to Grian?

"I think I'm just having a hard time with this today," Mumbo said eventually. "I know this stuff. Like, remember when Joe signed us all up for that gender and sexuality conference so that we could learn how to use Cleo's pronouns? I went to the, uh, the aspec panel, and they talked a lot about that. And I've also just . . . just read about it online. So I know—I know that you're right. I know this. It's just hard. You know?"

"Ah, I remember that conference," Doc said, gazing off into the distance with what was either a fond or a disgruntled expression. "Some racist man threatened me. The fun thing about threatening a part-creeper is that you're sure to lose."

Mumbo really didn't like Doc's smile. Maybe it would be best to return to the main subject.

"Another thing I'm scared about—"

"Another thing? Mumbo, how many fears can one have about this?"

Mumbo laughed self-consciously. "Well, well, I've—I've got a lot, so just—buckle in, bud. Another thing is what if . . . well, what if he says no? And then he thinks it's weird, that—that—that I feel that way. And he doesn't want to be friends anymore. Then what?"

Doc stared at him. "You are making things up now."

"No, I'm—this is a genuine fear! I just want to be—"

"Mumbo," interjected Doc, "when Grian first joined, I thought you were in a QPR."

Oh.

Well, Mumbo rather liked that. He and Grian already gave off QPR vibes? That was—maybe not, not great, but it made him feel kind of proud.

"Of course, others on the server assumed it was romantic," Doc continued. "My a-dar has never been wrong."

The others thought—?

Mumbo could deal with that later.

"I don't think it counts as an a-dar if I already came out to you, mate," Mumbo pointed out.

Doc waved. "Potato, potato."

"Those were the same potatoes."

"Mumbo Jumbo."

Mumbo sighed, properly looked up at Doc. When had his eyes fallen to his shoes?

Doc stared into his eyes as he spoke. "If Grian is worth anything, he will never stop loving you. Understood?"

Mumbo didn't argue this time. Doc was right. And Mumbo knew Grian. Even if Grian rejected him and it was a little awkward for a while, nothing would change.

He took a deep breath. He could do this.

"Right. So let's say I'm going to confess right now. What do I do?"

Doc, again, surveyed him up and down, robotic eye moving slower than his natural one, from Mumbo's shoes to his hair.

"Lose the tie."

-

Mumbo didn't lose the tie.

He did loosen it, though, on his way out of his tree, after doubling back to check himself out in the mirror.

Doc was right. It felt too formal, too much like he was inviting Grian to a dinner party rather than asking a close friend if they wanted to change their brand of friendship.

So he loosened it, then left to find Grian.

Grian was meant to really get some progress done on his alley build today (because of course they shared a calendar, how else would they ever get anything done?), but Mumbo didn't see him passing by, so he headed instead for Grian's starter base.

There was no one there, either. Grian must have been out mining or something. Which kind of sucked, really, because Mumbo had just gotten up the nerve to actually talk to him. Now he would have to do it all over again—spend a day hyping himself up, an hour getting ready, skip breakfast so that he doesn't throw up, et cetera—another time. After all, since Grian wasn't here at the exact time Mumbo planned, everything had entirely fallen apart and nothing that day would work because Mumbo hadn't prepared for it.

He turned to go, trying not to look too dejected. It was fine! He was fine. It was all going to work out, and everything—

"Mumbo Jumbolio!"

Grian landed in front of him, elytra clicking neatly together on his back. He smiled, big and sunny and welcoming.

Mumbo felt a bit weak in the knees. And not because—not because he loved him, or anything, but—

No. He did love Grian.

"What are you sneaking around my house for?"

"Just—just looking for you, dude!" Mumbo said, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Any suspicion cleared from Grian's face instantly, even though Mumbo probably sounded like the most suspicious person ever. Instead, Grian just turned away and started walking, so Mumbo hurried up and fell into step beside him.

Instinctively, Mumbo slowed his pace, matching the stride of Grian's shorter legs. Grian started chattering about some builder thing like block palletes or something that Mumbo automatically tuned out. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear about block palletes—he was trying to become a better builder, after all—or that he didn't want to listen to Grian talk, he was just kind of busy not having a panic attack. Breathing exercises kind of took up a lot of his mental capacity at the best of times.

They arrived, somehow, at the Boatem Hole. Grian sat down on the edge of it, swinging his legs back and forth, still talking.

Mumbo didn't really like to sit at the edge of the Boatem Hole. He always felt like Impulse or Grian would be right behind him, ready to shove him in.

He sat down, anyway. He needed to have this talk with Grian right now, or else he'd chicken out.

"—right?"

Mumbo turned to Grian, trying not to look too much like a spoon.

Grian raised an eyebrow. "Were you even listening to a single word I just said?"

Mumbo swallowed. Loudly. Audibly. That swallow was probably heard by Grian. That was awkward.

How was he supposed to casually transition to his intended subject? He hadn't planned for small talk! He'd kind of just planned to turn up on Grian's doorstep and give his whole spiel!

He had to leave. He had to get out of there, regroup, and come back in five to two-hundred business days with an actual plan.

"Oh, your tie's all messed up—here, let me—"

Mumbo went perfectly still, heart pounding, as Grian started messing with his tie, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth just the tiniest bit. 

They'd hugged before, and cuddled, and just generally hung on each other. But this, somehow, felt like it meant something more than anything else. Like Grian knew what Mumbo was here to say.

Or assumed. Or maybe assumed that he was going to suggest a romantic relationship, because fixing someone's tie was generally considered romantic, right?

Mymbo didn't know. He hoped desperately that Grian couldn't hear his heartbeat.

When Grian finished, he sat back, surveying it with a frown.

Grian actually ended up making it worse, Mumbo realized, as he looked down at himself. The back part was half poking out, the collar stuck under part of it. The tie itself was not really any tighter than it had been.

"I know how to tie a tie," Grian said, eyes narrowed. "I don't know . . . what went wrong."

"I'm aromantic," Mumbo blurted out.

Grian blinked, looking a bit taken about. "I know?"

Right. Grian did know that. How could Mumbo save this? 

"I'm asexual."

"I . . . know that too?"

Okay. He could still save this. He could still make it work.

"Well, I don't—I'm not really looking for a romantic relationship, because of, because of that—not that every aspec person feels that way, but, but I do—" he was such a spoon— "so I don't want to date, not like—not like that, not romantically, but, like, if you would be all right with it, maybe platonically?"

Silence.

Grian half-turned his head away, then back, a look of utter confusion on his face. "Run that by me again?"

Oh, dear.

"Right," Mumbo said, ears on fire. "Um. Would you be interested in a—er, in a committed platonic relationship?"

Grian stared at him for long moment. Mumbo kind of wished he could shrink down to the size of a frog and hide under a rock. Not something that would be very practical or logical for most situations, but definitely something to work on.

Maybe he could put Zedaph on it.

"It's okay if not," Mumbo said belatedly. "Like, it's mostly an aspec thing, so if you aren't comfortable or—"

"Oh, like a QPR?" Grian asked, face clearing of his confused stare when Mumbo nodded. "Okay, I think we're on the same page, now."

Mumbo nodded several times. "Great," he said stupidly. He wasn't sure what else to say. What else he could do to keep his heart from being shattered.

"Wait—you're asking me—aw, Mumbo!" said Grian, a silly smile spreading across his face. "Of course, I'd love to!"

No way.

Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes—

Streamers, confetti, a big sign rolled out that read 'he said YES' in big letters—

Mumbo, who was so busy celebrating in his mind, almost forgot to pay attention to Grian, who had begun speaking again.

"So, I don't really know how this works? So maybe we can have a sleepover tonight and do some research and stuff?"

Mumbo nodded vigorously. "Yes! Yeah, of course!"

"Because all I really know—you remember that gender and sexuality conference that Joe had us all go to, the one where Doc got us all kicked out on the second day? Well, before we had to leave, I went to the aspec panel—well, you were there, of course, we sat next to each other—and they talked a bit about QPRs there. But that's all I know."

He said yes.

Grian didn't do any of those horrible things that Mumbo had laid awake imagining, he hadn't rejected him or laughed at him or broken their friendship or tried to kiss him or anything.

He said yes. He said he wanted to learn. He said—oh, he was still talking—

"—that they have, but I imagine it'd be a bit different?" Grian was saying. "Not just because you're a different person from Doc, but because you probably have different needs than him. And me from Ren. Right?"

"Right," agreed Mumbo. "Yeah, of course, dude. Er—"

"Dude feels weird now," Grian said, brows furrowed. "Do we get, like, new cool nicknames and pet names?"

Mumbo had been thinking about the same thing last night. "There are a few," he said. "I mean, names are names and no kinds of names ought to be restricted by anything, so if you—if you wanted to try some, we could—but there are a few that already exist. Um, QPP? Like Queer Platonic Partner?"

"QP Partner," said Grian thoughtfully. "Cutie Partner. I like it. Anything less formal?"

"Um, datemate? Because we're like—just mates on dates, mate." That was so awkward why would he say that why would that come out of his mouth— "And, um, Zucchini? That's one—"

"Zucchuni!" Grian exclaimed, actually clapping his hands together. "You're my Zucchini, Mumbo Jumbo!"

Mumbo could have sworn his heart flew straight out of his chest.

This was so many new developments. Everything was changing all at once—in a good way, of course, but Mumbo kind of needed a moment to scream into a pillow and try to not have a panic attack. Or maybe just have it and get it over with.

But he didn't really want to leave Grian to go do that. Not while Grian was so excitedly redefining their entire relationship.

And as if he could read his thoughts, Grian took a deep breath and sat back.

"You probably need a bit of time to process, yeah?" he said.

Grian knew him so very very well. They had been best friends for years, after all.

"That would be wonderful," he said gratefully. "I'll, um, meet you for our sleepover?"

"I'll come over once the sun starts setting," confirmed Grian. "Don't be afraid to come find me if you need me earlier than that. And I'll text you in an hour or two, all right? Just to make sure you're doing good."

Mumbo nodded, heart bursting. Grian was like that, always remembering his anxiety and helping to remind him that he's cared about. 

He said yes.

Mumbo was officially in a QPR with his best friend.

He really did need to go cool down for a little. He felt like he was going to jitter out of his skin.

"Well, er, good talk!" Mumbo said lamely, standing and helping Grian to his feet. Grian sent a brilliant grin his way.

"Absolutely, datemate," he said, before suddenly pulling Mumbo into a hug.

Mumbo was never going to get used to this. He was in a QPR, for goodness' sakes—he was in a relationship!

He needed to get used to it, honestly. He wasn't sure he could stand this level of jitters every day.

He would have to tell Doc that his tie suggestion did absolutely nothing, Mumbo thought to himself as he headed back to Treesa. All that happened was Grian tried to fix it, and it halted all conversation, and gave Mumbo the chance to confess, and. . . .

Well. Maybe Doc was right.

Who would've thought?

[boybandbaby]

Fill Me In

Summary: You and Eddie are friends with benefits, well kinda. You really like Eddie but you’re not sure he feels the same.

Word Count: 2,833

Note: Not edited. I’m not super comfortable writing smut at the moment. This is more of a modern fic which is why Steve and Robin are working at Scoops Ahoy not Family Video. Also, if there are ever any warnings that I don’t disclose, feel free to call me out on it. Thank you :) 

You and Eddie had become friends almost immediately when you entered the friend group. You were introduced to everyone through Max who you had met at a skatepark. While she was interested in skateboarding, you dabbled in rollerskating. The entire group was going to a roller rink and Max invited you to come with. You agreed, wanting to spend more time with your friend and wanting to expand your friend group. 

The night at the roller rink you had somehow become the clumsiest skater amongst the group. You’re not sure if it was the nerves of meeting new people or the wax on the floor compared to the concrete you were normally used to. Max had defended you when the boys made comments similar to “I thought you said she was good at this?” 

“She is good. She’s used to the skate park, not this lame room with disco lights.” Max would say.

You definitely had to thank her later. But the younger boys weren’t the only ones making comments, you heard Eddie making comments as well. His comments were more about you rather than your skating. The comments were definitely flirtatious and joking which only added to the nerves and clumsiness of the night.

The moment you met Eddie, you knew you two would be good friends (and maybe something more). He was funny, super nice, and really cute. Whenever you would slip and tumble, if he wasn’t there to catch you or stable you, he would fall even more dramatically to get people to watch him instead of you. He’d also say things like “You gotta stop falling for me angel. I get it, I’m cute.” or “Did I distract you again? You gotta pay attention to where you’re going, not my handsome face.” You’d roll your eyes and take his hand or push him away, making him roll in front of you to which he’d then say, “if you wanna look at my butt, all you have to do is ask.” Then he’d wink and stumble away.

Steve said he was coming on too strong and girls didn’t like that but it worked for you and Eddie. He’d flirt with you, sometimes you’d get shy and sometimes you’d flirt back depending on how his comments affected you. 

As more time went on, he would show his affection and attraction with touch. Obviously he would never do anything too extreme or against your consent. He’d lay an arm over your shoulders if you were waiting in line somewhere or his hand on the lower part of your back as he passed by you. He’d hold his hand out to you so you wouldn’t fall coming out of the car or down a few steps on the stairs. He’d even pull out an old trick multiple times by asking to see who’s hand was bigger. He would place your hands together, always being a bit bigger than yours. “Huh, look at that, my hand engulfs yours.” He’d shrug and intertwine your fingers together, resting them on his thigh and going back to eating or watching tv.

Then one night at a small gathering at Steve’s, he whispered in your ear how pretty you looked. You could smell the weed and alcohol on his breath mixed with the tic tacs he asked Nancy for earlier. You just smiled and looked up toward him. He wasn’t smiling back down at you, he just reached his hand out towards you as he always did. Once you took his hand, he led you to the closest bathroom, away from everyone else. “Eddie, what’s up? Are you okay?” You asked.

“Look, I know we flirt all the time and stuff but I really wanna kiss you.” He blurts out as he shuts the door. “I mean, only if you’re okay with it. It’s just… the alcohol and stuff is making me more bold than usual and you look really pretty tonight and-”

You shut him up with a kiss. Eddie looked really good tonight too. His hair was surprisingly not as frizzy as normal meaning he put some type of product in it. He wore a plain white t-shirt, not exactly a v-cut but low enough to see his collar bones, a new necklace, and tattoos poking out. He had on plain black jeans and sneakers, a couple of bracelets on his wrists. You started with his lips and trailed down to his chest, his shirt slipping off in the process. Ever since that night, having sex became a regular thing. The only problem now was that he hadn’t made you his girlfriend and you were too nervous to bring it up. Were you dating? Just friends with benefits? 

-

You and Eddie had just finished a third round of fucking. You were still on top of him, resting on his lower stomach after he pulled out of you. Your hands rested on his bare chest and his on your hips, under the plain colored shirt you still had on. 

“You,” he moved his hands behind his head, intertwining his fingers as he looked up at you, “were incredible today.”

You leaned down to kiss his lips before smoothing your hair back. “Same could be said about you, Munson.”

He groaned. “You know I hate when you call me that.” He tapped your thigh as he sat up.

“Why? It’s your last name.” You laugh, rolling off of him onto his bed.

“And my dads.” He rolls his eyes, searching for his boxers.

“And Wayne’s” You smile. “Maybe my last name too someday.” You mumble, not really thinking before saying the words.

“What?” He pauses, boxers in hand as he looks over to you.

“What?” You looked back at him in horror. “I’ve gotta go!” You screeched, picking up the clothing on the floor.

“Y/n?” Eddie rushes to slip into his boxers as you already scramble into the living room of his trailer. You had grabbed his sweats instead of your shorts. At this point you didn’t care. You just needed to get out of there. You grabbed your shoes by the door and hastily put them on just as he came out of his room. “Y/n, we have to talk about this.” He hobbles on one leg, trying to slip his jeans on. He struggles, really wishing you hadn’t stolen his sweats. You’re already out of the door and headed to your car by then time he gets both legs in his pants. He dismisses any footwear as he bounds down the steps. He’s too late, you’re already reversing onto the road.

Eddie lets out a string of curse words before deflating back into his room.

-

“Okay, so let me get this straight. You’ve been flirting and talking and even fucking but you haven’t made your feelings clear?” Steve crosses his arms and leans against the counter of Scoops Ahoy.

“Well, I thought they were pretty clear Steve. Which is why I’m freaking out now.” Eddie groans, head against the door frame leading to the back of the store. 

“So, why haven’t you just called or texted her?” Robin asks.

“Oh my god, you two do not listen.” Eddie whines. “I’ve called, texted, even tried showing up to her house but she doesn’t answer.”

“I’m sure she reads the messages so just send a long text explaining how you feel.” Steve shrugs before turning to the counter where a few customers are approaching. 

“I really think I should talk to her in person.” Eddie adds. 

“Well, do you have feelings for her? If you’re going to let her down, do it through text.” Steve throws over his shoulder.

“Do not do it over text.” Robin shoots her comment more towards Steve than Eddie as she rolls her eyes. “I agree, you should talk to her in person. Tell her you’re sorry for leading her on and that you aren’t looking for a relationship right now.” Robin hops off the stool to ring up the customers.

“But I don’t want to reject her. I like her, of course I do. I just-”

“It’s simple really Eddie. You either wanna be with her or you don’t.” Steve hands off the last cup of ice cream to the youngest member of the family.

“It’s simple for you, Harrington. I’ve never had a girlfriend or like a relationship. What if I suck at doing all the lovey dovey shit?”

“Oh? So you do like her?” Robin asks. Eddie nods. “Well then, we just have to help Eddie express his feelings.”

“Okay but how? He just said she’s not answering him at all.” Steve wipes his hand on a towel nearby.

“I mean, we can just ask Max to bring her over for like a hangout of something.” Robin suggests. “We’ll say it’s a girls night or something and then Eddie can just happen to come over and Y/n will have to talk to him.”

“Okay but I want to be there too.” Steve crosses his arms and leans against the counter. 

“Why? It’s not like we’re actually all going to be there Steve. I know you have fomo but it’s just a plan.” Robin shakes her head as Eddie laughs. 

“Oh.” Steve deflates. “Well, we should still be there in case Eddie chickens out or fucks up.”

“Thanks for that, Harrington.” Eddie rolls his eyes. “I’ll catch up with you two later.” He grabs his things off the break room table and heads to the parking garage located outside of the food court entrance. He misses Robin roughly shoving Steve’s shoulder as he leaves.

-

“How do you know?” You ask Max.

“I overheard Robin and Steve talking. They’re planning to trick you into a movie night and then Eddie will show up and they’re gonna make you listen to him.” Max takes a slice of the pizza that you’re sharing. Her and Lucas asked to go out to eat so they could talk to you about something. You didn’t expect her to tell you about Eddie’s plan to get you to talk to him.

“Are you mad at Eddie?” Lucas asks. Max had told Lucas all the drama going on since he loves to hear the gossip from her. “Like did he do something wrong?”

“Well no but I just can’t face him. We’ve grown so close and I basically told him I was in love with him. He doesn’t feel the same way though.” You sigh and lean back in the booth.

“Do you know that for sure though? I mean when he looks at you his eyes are all bright and glossy and it’s literally the heart eyes emoji in a person.” Max smiles. “Maybe just talk to him.”

“Yeah, he’s affected by your absence y/n. He’s still Eddie but not as loud and rambunctious as normal during Hellfire.” Lucas laughs. “I mean it’s kind of nice sometimes but he’s clearly going through something without you in his life.”

“Just reach out to him. Even if it’s just a text.” Max nods encouragingly. 

“How are you two giving me relationship advice?” You laugh as you take another bite of pizza.

-

That night you decide to give their advice a try and text Eddie.

You: hey delivered

You: hey read at 7:09pm

So he was mad. He left you on read. It’s been two hours already. You decide to screenshot the message and send it to Max when you get a notification from Eddie.

Eddie: hey

You immediately open it up and wince when you realize your read receipts are on. You were going to make him wait for a response like he did with you. It’s too late for that now.

You: hey, do you have time to talk right now?

Eddie: i can clear up my schedule for you

Eddie: i’m kidding, i don’t have anything going on

Eddie: i mean like i always have time for you

Eddie: sorry

You: for?

Eddie: i’m rambling

You: as per usual

You: not that it’s a bad thing

You: it’s just something that you tend to do

Eddie: like you’re doing right now to avoid what we really need to talk about

You: i’m not avoiding anything

You: you’re avoiding me really. Leaving me on read for hours???

Eddie: i didn’t mean too i just needed to gather my thoughts on what i was going to say

You: and all you could come up with was “hey” ????

Eddie: are we fighting rn?

You: no? This doesn’t seem like a fight

You: anyway, did you wanna talk here or on the phone or in person. I can drive to you

Eddie: you wanna meet at my trailer? Wayne’s out on a date

You: wait really? With who?

Eddie: remember that lady Marsha he met at the store that one time? She invited him over for dinner

You: Marsha? Mug lady Marsha?

Eddie: yep! His dream woman

Eddie: so you’re coming over then?

You: yeah, I’ll be right over

Eddie: okay, drive safe

When you had arrived at Eddie’s, he was already sitting on the porch, clouded by smoke. He had stood up and stomped out his cigarette the second he saw you pull up. With sweaty palms now in his pockets, completely shirtless and in now dirty white socks, he approached you. You never would have guessed how nervous he was. He always seemed confident with the way he carried himself.

“Hi.” He smiled softly, grabbing your bag as he always had. “You hungry?”

“Not really.” You sighed, “how are you?”

“Not good y/n.” He turned toward you as he opened his front door. “And you?”

“I’m fine.” You stepped inside and looked around as if it was your first time in his home. 

“That makes one of us.” He muttered as he set your bag on the table and took a seat. “You don’t have to act like a stranger y/n. You’ve been here plenty of times before.”

“I know.” You shrugged. “I just- I don’t really know where to start.” You slump into the seat next to him. 

“You can start by apologizing for running out on me and ignoring me these past few days.” Eddie smiles all smug.

You roll your eyes. “I’m sorry. I know I left abruptly. I was just embarrassed.” 

“Why would you be embarrassed?” He leaned over the corner of the table, grabbing your hands. “Because you confessed your love for me and said you wanna marry me and carry my babies and get all wrinkly with me?”

“Eddie…” You groan and rest your forehead on the table. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not! It’s cute. Really, it’s an honor that you want to take my last name one day.” He grins. “So you do love me?” He asks more shyly now. 

“I think that’s pretty clear.” You shove his shoulder. “What do you think about it?”

“About you being obsessed with me?” Eddie laughs when you glare at him. “I’m kidding. Y/n, you have to know that I’m in love with you too. I thought it was pretty clear but even Steve made me realize I wasn’t as straight forward about it as I thought.”

“You mean it?” 

“Duh. But…” He drags out, your eyebrows raising. “I always thought I would take your last name.”

“You’d take my name?” You laugh.

“Yeah, it’s 2023. We don’t have to follow old traditions and stuff. I can be Mr. y/last/n.”

“What if we just hyphenate it? I think Wayne would be hurt if you got rid of the Munson name.”

“I don’t think Wayne will care. He’s getting his own Mrs. Munson soon.” Eddie kisses your knuckles. 

“Oh my god, that’s right. Do you think Wayne is getting laid right now?” You kiss Eddie’s knuckles (more so his rings than his actual skin).

“Ew gross. Don’t put that image in my brain.” Eddie pulls his hands away. “You’re sick, you know that?”

“Sick in love. With you.” You smile as Eddie stands up. He bends over to kiss your lips. It’s short but long enough to leave you in a love trance. “Can you make me food now? I’m starving, I just didn’t want to tell you when I got here.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re getting canned soup and poorly made grilled cheese.” Eddie heads to the stove to get started. 

“Did you purposely not wear a shirt today?” You turn to watch him cook.

“Maybe…” He shrugs, biting his lip. “I thought it would help my chances. I knew you could never resist me naked.”

“Shut up, Munson.” You grab a random towel on the table and throw it at him.

“You shut up first future Mrs. Munson.” He winks and turns back to the stove. You smile and make your way over to him, wrapping your arms around his slim waist and resting your cheek against his bare back. 

“I love you, Eddie.” You sigh. 

“I love you, Y/n.” He rubs his spatula free hand over your arms.

[silvereternitywrites]

What You are Called

Prompt: When an unpopular species of the current federation rescues humanity from their dying world, they never knew how much it would affect them and the galaxy.

Prompt Source: user AnthonyisClueless; subreddit "Humans are Space Orcs"; approx 3rd week of march (cannot find more specific date)

"I'm sorry, the Federation calls your people what?"

My head had ticked sideways involuntarily at the word I hoped I had heard wrong- but with the new hearing aids (free. Free.) I had been issued I was pretty sure I'd heard it right.

My Alien (personal ambassador? Health Concierge? Translator? They were all of these things and more) made a hand motion that indicated nervousness. They often were nervous when I ticced, but the super-sharp angled motions disturbed them most. Said they looked like I was bending my body wrong.

"They call us- [Revolting Aberrations]," they repeated dutifully, and the translator gave the secondary chirp in my hearing aid that promised it was as accurate a translation of another-nother alien language. As opposed to my alien language or my Alien's language.

I inhaled so fast and deep I felt the discs in my spine pop and my ribs strain and my head straightened on my neck.

"I was afraid of that. You do know that's- that's not acceptable, right?"

They blinked and their ears were slicking back, one pair at a time in descending order. Their body language for 'I don't think I'm going to like what I'm about to hear'.

"I'm assuming you know what that translates to, right?"

"Naturally," they said slowly, about half of the scattered eyes on their torso and arms blinking out-of-sync.

"I don't know if I've made this clear to you before, but Fangnar, you're my friend," I stressed the second half of this, and watched their quills slick down. Not sure if that was the fear response or the pleasure response, quills went flat for both.

"And, and I don't know if you've overheard me arguing with my mates about their brain-voices who are jerks, right? Where I threaten to yank the voice out of their skulls and force them to stop being mean to my friend?"

"Ye-es," and now their pupils were dilating, unevenly as so much of their body functioned, shifting uneasily from one set of back legs to the other.

"You are not exempt from this form of love, Fangnar," I finished, feeling the flush of rage from my chest to my hairline.

"The United Federation of Planets calling my friend's entire people revolting abominations is them being mean to my friends. Which is violently unacceptable. So I just have one more question."

All their various limbs pulled in, even as their eyes were dilated wide- familial fear response, definitely. Afraid of how angry I was on their behalf.

"What is your question, human friend?"

I smiled, reminding them without words that the Federation was made up of 77% prey species and 15% declawed predators who had been taken advantage of by the Federation when they'd made it to space. The remaining 8% accounted for approximately three species: the one that had uplifted us, the -- I wasn't using that name, I would NEVER use that name, but they had forms that were asymmetrical, that didn't work in sync, that weren't the same across species because they were from a Death World that made Terra look like it was made of cotton candy and pillows. They only slept with a maximum of 3/4ths of their bodies at any given time, because to be fully asleep was too dangerous, they literally couldn't do it, and they had claws and sharp teeth and multiple pupil types to handle every type of light for changing conditions.

"You actually fit a human concept called [Eldritch]," I told them abruptly, because I couldn't finish my thought without a proper name to call them.

"My translator says that is a very complicated concept," they said doubtfully.

"Yes. Ever-Changing, like yet unlike those who look upon you, unknowable without your consent or aid, no two of your own the same, sometimes inspiring loathing in the foolish or stupid or stubborn, sometimes inspiring blind worship or loyalty in the same people. I'm going to nickname your people that for now, because I'm NOT calling you that other thing," I failed to control the hiss for the other name, and felt sorry when they flinched.

Anyway, there were three Predatory species that hadn't been forcefully handicapped and de-clawed. A species no one was even sure still existed that looked like bipedal tigers with backwards thumbs called Kartcha, the Eldritch...

and us.

"My question is this. Where is the Federation Embassy? I hear they have a policy where they are required to listen to objections from common folk to keep the officials of the councils from getting too big for their britches."

"Oh. Oh no. Human friend, human friend this is a terrible- I- how did you get the GPS directions so fast- Human friend!! PLEASE COME BACK HERE HUMAN FRIEND!"

I waved over my shoulder.

"I'll be back in a few hours at worsssst," I licked the teeth formerly tucked into the roof of my mouth, complete with venom-sacs, another medical miracle that the Eldritch who'd given me the rattle-tail to use as a third leg and to balance with had apologized profusely for because of 'unintended mutational consequences'. I couldn't wait to see if the shark one- for cartilage repair, not for more potential teeth, they wouldn't play with our DNA like that- gave me gills like I'd been hoping.

I hadn’t yet found the words to explain to their scientists that the people signing up for those medical services were actively gambling on getting those unintended mutational consequences, and making bets with their God or Gods that they would get particular ‘side effect’ mutations they desperately wanted. If they ever figured out the process to do things like my teeth and the heat-pits nestled in my temples on purpose, people would be lining up in the thousands. It was just awkward to try and explain all that to a scientist-physician who was apologizing profusely for whatever delight you had just woken up to and offering to let you rip off one of his nonessential limbs as reparations.

How dare the Federation pass judgement on the Eldritch based on nothing more than their looks? Their culture, their science, their willingness to packbond with humanity like excited puppies...it made me flush hotter and angrier, until the diamond pattern of nearly microscopic scales was visible from forehead to collarbones.

"I'm jussssst going to tell them how UNACSSSSSEPTABLE their nickname really isssss, that'ssss all," I promised. I didn't cross my fingers.

I maybe crossed the forks of my tongue as I jumped over their haunches to get through the doorway before they could block it and took off as fast as my legs would go.

I wanted to be able to argue back if they tried to tell me they were in the right, after all. I also reserved the right to bite people who try to touch me, as I always have and always will.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

hi :D!!! was wondering if you were still doing matchups? if so, i would like to request a bg3 match up with any of the ladies :3 also i wasn’t sure if i was supposed to describe me or my tav, but its pretty much a self insert so i hope this is ok hehe THANKS AGAIN OK LOVE YOU BYE <3

gender: trans man

pronouns: he/they

sexuality: i honestly have no idea lol, i prefer woman by a longshot though!!!

appearance: i’m 5’8” ish (~173 cm) and about 200 pounds (~91 kilos), olive skin with a bit of facial hair/stubble. i have kinda built arms and legs and a nice loveable tummy. pre top surgery though so i am always in a binder and baggy shirt. i’m growing out my mullet atm so my hair is kind of a mess but! it’s dark brown and curly :) i have lots of tattoos and piercings! my clothing style is usually some giant graphic tee and work pants with some converse or something. if i’m actually trying though, i kind of dress like a grandpa hehe

mtbi: infp, enneagram is either 2 or 4, it changes every time i take it lol

personality: gemini sun virgo moon gemini rising (don’t really care for astrology tbh), initially i am very reserved and quiet, but not like cold or aloof or anything! im just extremely nervous and shy!! i have been described as intimidating but i dont see it at ALL so take that with a grain of salt i suppose. once i’ve opened up though, i really enjoy making others laugh so i will take every opportunity to do so, even if it makes me look like an idiot lol. i tend to miss a LOT of social cues, so i usually come across as very awkward and weird, but i’ve gotten pretty good at playing it off

likes: i LOVE everything about music!! i play over 5 instruments, i listen to every genre (yes even country), and i’ve been playing in either ensembles, orchestras, or bands since i was 11. i was even a music major once upon a time! outside of music, i like cats (my cats are my favorite lol but i don’t discriminate!), video games, and occasionally reading

dislikes: i have pretty bad sensory issues so i fucking HATE places like malls, grocery stores, large department stores, etc. i also don’t like a majority of social situations with people i don’t already know, i always feel so awkward and get anxious. this one really gets people, but i don’t like a lot of foods that are widely considered to be good. for example, i dislike mac and cheese, potatoes, ketchup, and most fruits. every time i tell someone this, they literally act like i just confessed to murder

extra fun fact: i am a giant nerd. like i cannot state it enough I AM A NERD! my friends use me like human google all the time, and most of the time i have the answer 😭 not trying to imply that i’m a genius or something, i just hear a fun fact or random piece of information and then never ever forget it (did you know that for a majority of the year, the closest planet to earth is not venus or mars. it’s mercury!!)

BG3 extra:

race: half wood elf

class: wild magic sorcerer

alignment: neutral good

Don't Worry—I still have yours!! I was perplexed when I saw your PFP twice, lol. Sorry for the long wait, but here is your Match!! Also, as a Midwestern/Southerner, I enjoy the genre of Country, lol. ( I, too, am a nerd; I am my family's personal Calculator, though, lol)

~~~~~ MATCHUPS ~~~~~

Baldur's Gate 3

Shadowheart

~~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~~

Shadowheart is one to keep to herself as well. She likes the mysterious quiet. However, she did not oppose the notion of you being the group's leader.

She sees your anxiety around new people as a hindrance and a diversion. While you are awkwardly talking to others, she can use this time to gather hidden information or send Astarion on a pickpocketing hunt.

Your tics and antics may have frustrated her initially, but as you all grew to know one another, she found them sweet and endearing.

Soon, whenever a passerby points out your flaw, she is the first and last to defend you. (Miss Ma'am always has to get the last word in)

Shadowheart worked hard to earn your trust, and you worked hard to earn hers. Soon, you two were inseparable, for good or bad.

Shadowheart took your courting very seriously and ensured everyone at camp knew you were hers. She is a princess, after all, and gets what she wants.

If you are having a tough day around people, Shadowheart will be there to help. She has no problem leading things whenever you need her to.

When you two fight enemies, it is like watching the ocean move. You two are constantly in sync, and your health never drops below 50.

When you two officially start dating and make it public to everyone, she enjoys holding hands and soft pecks on the cheek. She is still a private person, but no harm in making sure the world knows she loves you.

When you two part ways from the others after the final battle, Shadowheart and you take on a tavern of your own in Baldurs Gate. She runs the finances and shipments while you run the entertainment and bar.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

The grove had been successfully saved. However, not every person at your party was ecstatic that you had made this choice; however, you knew you had made the right choice. With your camp full of new and old faces, you smiled, knowing that this was what you were made for right then. Though saving everyone was great and all, the loud, drunken party happening was the last thing you cared to participate in. You make your rounds to your companions to tell them when you will pack up and head out; you spot Shadowheart pouring herself a glass of wine. As you finish speaking to Karlach, you stand before the princess of the night.

Shadowheart smiles at you, gently extending a glass to you before speaking, "I knew you weren't quite the party type. I am surprised you even allowed this to happen at our camp." You laugh gently, nodding along, taking a swig of the wine. Looking out on your camp, you may not be one for large gatherings, but this was wholesome for the journey ahead. You turned back to Shadowheart as she spoke again, "We could escape from here for a while, allow you time to have a real reprieve from an intense battle versus throwing yourself into more uncomfortable situations." She always knew when you grew discontent with situations and quickly altered your group's direction. Though you may be the leader, your love and compassion for Shadowheart soon made her your second in command, much to Lazel's displeasure.

You nodded briefly to Shadowheart as she gently grabbed your hand and led you to a rock face far from camp. Privacy was excellent, and it allowed your mind to run freely for once since you were tasked with killing the Goblins. As you lounged back, sipping on the wine, Shadowheart looked at you. A simple conversation between you two led to something more intent and kind through the night. That night, you two decided to flourish in your relationship and walk through life together. Once dawn approached you, Shadowheart sat in your lap, staring out into the horizon. You gently moved some hair from her face. You smiled gently, whispering, "Because of you, my world may now be complete; fight with me, Shadowheart, and let our hearts beat as one once we are free again."

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(You and Shadowheart had broken off from the group for the evening, taking a short stroll through Baldurs Gate. Thinking about what the future will have in store for you two as you approach the final battle)

Y/N: Princess, what if a life without Shar is genuinely not what you want. I do not want you to feel forced into a life of tavern-keeping with me.

Shadowheart: My goddess has already abandoned me since the trials. I am content now as long as I have you by my side, my love.

Y/N: When did you become so romantic? Weren't you always the brooding, icy-hearted mystery girl?

Shadowheart: That may have been me in the past, but as I have helped you through your trials, you have helped me, and I am grateful for that.

Y/N: (Smiles softly at the woman and leans in to kiss her)

Shadoheart: (places a hand on Y/N's lips, a large smirk evident on her face) However, since you seem to want to pick on me this evening, I could always return to being a brat.

Y/N: Oh, is that so? I am very sure I can handle it, my sweet. (Sweet kisses intensify)

[c0smiccl0wn]

A highly self indulgent comfort fic bc I have been anxiety ridden all day.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, mentions of vomit, mentions of spit, moon sits in the room while you bathe (he’s respectful tho)

Little side note: Moon has nonverbal tendencies in my mind, therefore he does in my writing.

Word count: 785

Worry Not, Dear Friend.

It’s been an all day thing. Anxiety bubbling in your stomach and pounding on your heart to the point of nausea. Nausea that would lead you here, hunched over your toilet and gagging as bile rose in your throat.

Despite the fact that you had been gurgling and willing your body to release its contents to ease the pain in your gut for the past thirty minutes, nothing was filling the empty water of the toilet besides some spit.

A knock on the door made you raise your head from your folded arms and look towards the closed wood.

“Sunspot,” Sun said, voice hesitant, “are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”

You suppress a gag to respond to your bright roommate, insisting that you were fine, until a heavy squeeze of anxiety clenched your heart and stomach once more. As you lay with your head hovering above the water, you heard the door creak open.

Finally your throat gave way and you were able to let out the burning bile stinging your insides as you felt your hair be held away from your face with gentle fingers. Sun rubbed your back as you coughed a few times into the toilet before you sat up to close the lid and flush the contents. You then turn to Sun, who held a worried expression on his normally cheerful face.

“You’re not feeling well,” he stated, “are you getting sick? Do I need to get you some medicine or something? You’ll be okay, right?” His eyes flickered between your own as he fiddled with his fingers. You nodded your head with an unconvincing smile and moved to squeeze past him, but he lifted you up instead. “No, no,” he started, “I have an idea!”

The next thing you know, you’re lying in bed with the warm bot curled up behind you with an arm around your waist and a hand against your back.

“What’s wrong, Sunspot? You can tell me whatever’s bouncing around in your pretty little head.” He said gently. You sighed and fidgeted with his fingers around your waist, before emptying your worries and thoughts out into the open. He said nothing while you spoke, only listening while his rays clicked from side to side in a nervous tic. You talked while the sun set outside your window, watching as it slowly disappeared behind the horizon.

Sun leaned forward and in a quiet voice said, “don’t worry, friend. I’ll be here for you through whatever happens.” He paused to let out a chuckle as he turned you around to face him. “I’m sure Moon will tell you the same thing.”

With that, he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the tender skin below your eye as the light in the room became too little for him to stay.

When the bot leaned back, Moon took the place of Sun. He locked his eyes with yours and let out a small ”tsk” at the red and puffy skin around your eyes. He took your face in his hands and rubbed his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks. He sat up, taking you with him, and carried you to the living room couch.

You were playfully dropped onto the sofa before Moon walked into the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with a cup of tea and a blanket. He wrapped the blanket around your shoulders and handed you the cup. It smelled of lavender and was pleasantly warm. You had hoped he would stay near you, but he walked away and towards your bathroom, where you soon heard the running of water.

By the time Moon returned you had finished your tea. He motioned for you to follow him to the bathroom. Pleasant steam enveloped you as you stepped through the door. Moon patted your shoulder twice, before turning his back to you. You undressed and climbed into the tub as Moon sat with his back against the side of it. You made small, comfortable conversation with Moon as you washed yourself and soaked in the warm water, Moon responded with a few taps of his fingers against the tub or a couple of hums.

You exited the tub and changed into some comfortable clothes before finding yourself, once again, curled into the arms of the animatronic. Your eyes were heavy as you listened to the quiet music box in Moon’s chest.

You were half asleep when you heard his quiet voice whisper to you. “Sun was right. Always here for you, Stardust.”

With that, Moon placed a soft kiss against the top of your head as sleep pulled you down into a third warm embrace.

[stromuprisahat]

Goodbye, S&B Genya!

Siege and Storm- Chapter 2

This time it is Genya, who earned the position of honour, acting as Alina’s babysitter. Last they saw each other properly, Alina treated her abominably. Unfortunatelly, Genya doesn’t seem to remember that, or she’s so desperate for companionship she doesn’t mind, or worse- mistakes it for affection. 

I love Genya’s teasing. It’s her way of lightening the atmosphere, distracting Alina from her negative moods. She could come across as uppity bitch, except she never really means it badly.

The worst thing about toxic people in our past is missing them.

Alina wants to know, if Genya was her friend, but was she hers? We always saw Genya being the giving side of their relationship, Alina did exactly one (1) nice thing for her. How little’s enough for Genya to call Alina friend? A bit of attention, not even a shoulder to cry on, because the moment Alina’s forced to face her “friend’s” reality, she shames and abandons her for own comfort and love interest.

Are you sorry for someone else’s actions you had no control over? But then again Alina likes to feel responsible for Malyen’s decisions, so it’s only fair to expect the same from others.

Huge fan of Alina’s pose of wise and experienced know-it-all. She knows better, because someone else told her. It’s been so long... like few weeks. The Darkling’s what, not who. Baghra’s words are automatically the truth. And the Darkling’s only concern is power, because why would anyone do anything, right? (Plus he’s evil and evil people like power!) That’s the scenario that fits Alina’s worldview, and it’s just so much easier to keep an eye on interpretation, than change your mindsets.

Alina’s thinking rarely goes further than a step ahead. No wonder whole speech the Darkling gave in the Fold didn’t leave any trace in her mind. Novokribirsk’s destruction is immediate effect. That’s where it ends for her. Why would anyone cause something so horrible? For their ego! (Reminds me of saying in Czech- Podle sebe soudím tebe.- something like “I judge you by myself.”)

There’s also the issue of Schrödinger’s Novokribirsk- when both the size of the inhibited area and its destruction kept changing through the books. Even with that on mind, Alina sounds pretty delusional.

No! Don’t bother Alina with these questions! She doesn’t want to think about it!

A few soldiers from the First Army made it back...

Conveniently silenced, I suppose. Wouldn’t want anyone to know the bright new Sun Saint’s a murderer and a traitor...

How many people had been aboard that sandskiff? Thirty? Forty?

Sixty at least, but nevermind... Alina feels sick? Wow, I’m sure those dead are relieved you’re not feeling well. Certainly helps with their situation. ... and that’s the difference between “doing what you have to” and being a monster, isn’t it? At some point you should make sure you mention how bad you’re feeling...

I’d sacrificed those people for Mal’s life, for my freedom, and in the end, they’d died for nothing.

Malyen’s life 96 %

“freedom” 4 %

Why was it all for nothing? Whose fault is that? It’s not about bad luck or circumstances, but (Malyen and) Alina’s stupidity.

No! Why would you say that?! You’re talking to a traitor, deserter, who doesn’t give a crap about anything but herself! How is this the same person as the one few lines earlier, asking about the skiff?! Some character consistency, please?! If Genya tried to comfort her with “You did what you thought/believed you had to do.”, I’d let it pass, but this way?!

Alina's conctantly doing her best to upset Genya. For trying to comfort her.

harsh bark of laughter ... yanked my hand away...  She looked down at her lap, pleating and unpleating the folds of her kefta.

Loud, abrupt noises and actions trigger nervous tic in Genya. She turns defensive.

Something about this passage doesn’t sit well with me. As if the King were some minor antagonist, not a fucking rapist leech. As if Genya should’ve considered him as a choice.

So, Alina thinks Grisha can just freely emigrate?! Start a new life somewhere else? This sounds like they’re just visiting Ravka for holidays...

How much does Genya know about the pogroms?

Ahahahaha... We all serve someone. Grisha are always Crown’s property, their uniform doesn’t free them from service!

Protected? Do you mean possibly not beaten to death by an angry mob, but allowed to die on front? Favoured as in eating well and better supplied, because their general cares? But realizing that would require Alina to take interest in other people’s lives...

Earn the right to wear red? It’s NOT a fashion statement! She was a part of Queen’s household! The Darkling needed to get her out before changing her kefta! The only way to take royals’ toy away from them is to make sure they’re no longer in position to make you regret it. There’s no red kefta for Genya with Lantsovs at helm!

Once again, Alina’s list of priorities is just astonishing!

Genya’s already re-written here. She doesn’t conveniently mention the Darkling gave her the chance to send the letters later. What’s this Genya’s play?! Why blame him, denying her own agency?

“You decide,” he says. “I’ll have the letters brought to you.”

“You kept them?”

“Post them. Give them back to her. Do whatever you think best.”

I watch him closely. This feels like some kind of trick. “You can’t mean that.”

He looks at me over his shoulder, his gray eyes cool. “Old bonds,” he says as he gives the horse a final pat and pushes off from the fence. “They can do nothing for Alina but tie her to a life long gone.”

The paper is starting to fray beneath my fingers. “She’s suffering.”

He stops my fidgeting with the briefest touch of his hand. His power flows through me, calming, the steady rush of a river. Best not to think where the current may take me.

“You’ve suffered, too,” he says.

...

I think of Alina’s too-thin fingers gripping the edge of the sheet, the hope she can’t hide in her pale, expressive face as she writes out the tracker’s name. I open the black wood box, and I feed the letters to the fire, one by one. It hurts, but I can bear it. Because I am a doll, and a servant. Because I am a pretty thing and a soldier all the same.

In The Tailor, Genya thinks the Darkling’s testing her somehow. I’d argue he took it as an educational opportunity. Genya’s one of his most promising spies, he’s teaching her to make tougher choices, counting with her for higher position with greater responsibilities that would require making less palatable decisions. Even as an ordinary spy, she’d need to lie to and hurt people she personally likes.

Because friendship with a girl, who takes and takes and takes, but never gives (except for that ~one~ moment) should always come before duty, vengeance and better life for everyone.

Also love those moments, when Alina admits the Darkling’s right somehow, but doesn’t let it bother her, just keeps going on...

Wow, I almost feel bad for her. If only Alina got her head out of her ass and gave ~anyone~ a reason to care about her...

Once again, huge fan of choice of words...

[impishtubist]

I’m totally gonna write Aroace Sirius (and don’t worry, it won’t be Tonks/Remus bc as an aroace person, I frequently forget romance is a thing so it’s pretty much a net zero romantic relationship thing going on in my tics. Everyone’s single since I forget attraction exists) one day, and it is going to include late Hogwarts era-Sirius always wondering why the hell everyone wants him to care about trivial shit when he’s 90% sure his cousin is one of the people out committing homicide which is a trifle awkward considering everything. Amortentia lesson rolls around and Sirius disdainfully looks around at everyone being lovestruck and thinks to himself “this smells like the ingredients, you people just need more self-control.” It will go through his adulthood as well, Sirius is very disdainful of any romantic drama going on and wants to know why people are worrying about this when his godson is at the center of a war. Put your effort about learning if your boyfriend is cheating into saving Harry’s life and maybe you’ll live long enough for the possible cheating to be an issue (that’s also his consolation sometimes. Pure “yeah, he’s probably banging your friend, but if Voldemort wins, we’ll all be dead so it won’t be a problem anymore”)

James: Lily and I have a date to Hogsmeade next weekend

Sirius, staring at the newspaper with a headline loudly proclaiming that a bunch of people in robes and masks attacked Diagon Alley two days ago, killing 17 people: I’m thrilled for you mate, truly I am, but do you think we can apply our DADA lessons to actual fighting for the war going on pretty much right outside, or should we be scouting the books to find and learn more defensive/offensive spells? Also, we have a Charms essay due on Monday, don’t forget it. Maybe we can ask Flitwick for advice on fighting spells, I’m going to go ask right now actually. Have fun on your date though

"Everyone’s single since I forget attraction exists" moooooooooooood

I live for fics where everyone is single tbh. Sirius has more important shit going on! Also I live for a Sirius who has like too many hobbies and interests going on? He's taking his seat on the Wizengamot and opening a magical creature rescue and adopting a bunch of orphans and dogs and remodeling Grimmauld Place and studying ancient runes and going to Quidditch matches and raising his godson and what do you mean you want him to also date????? He's living his best, fullest life and that does not include romance or sex.

Also it gives comedic potential to Harry coming up to him like "Sirius I need advice about dating" and Sirius being like "uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ask Arthur I can't help you with that"

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I am quite bad at recognizing voices, even when I’m familiar with them, which of course is at times an issue in my obsession with audio comedy. I can do it eventually, requiring less time for people with more distinctive voices. But I’m a lot worse at it than most people I know are.

I am currently listening to the Elis James/John Robins radio show (I wish there were an easy portmanteau so I didn’t have to type all that out every time, like Jossell, but to do that here would just make the word jealous, which might be a fitting couple name given their dynamic of John Robins skewering Elis James for crimes such as making money from sitcom acting and getting verified on Twitter, but it would get confusing to try to use that as a name for them regularly), and I got really, embarrassingly far into it – way, way too far into it, before I realized they’ve had comedians calling in disguise on almost every episode I’ve heard. It’s one of the worst voice-based oversights I’ve ever made, missing all those voices until episode 47.

They have this feature called Textual Healing, where each episode, a listener will call in with their problem and John and Elis will offer advice like Agony Uncles. And I did understand, from pretty close to the beginning, that this isn’t a straightforward advice segment. The problems were always really weird, but John and Elis treated them relatively seriously.

At first I didn’t think much about it, just figured that maybe the producers filtered the calls until they found someone with a weird enough problem to be funny. Then I figured the listeners had caught on to this, and some were calling in with fake problems to be funny, and John and Elis were playing along. I continued to believe this until episode 47, when a woman with a really exaggerated Welsh accent called into complain that her cat was classist.

After 46 fucking episodes of me not working out what was going on, they finally tipped their hand, I thought that had to be an actor. It sounded too much like an actor performing a sketch, getting too deeply into character with the weird voice and the verbal tics and the wild problem presented as though it were normal, I did not think some listener was making this up on the fly. Also, I was pretty sure I did recognize the voice but could not, for the life of me, work out from where.

So I went home and Googled it, and it turns out I have been wrong from the very beginning. There’s a spreadsheet online that tells you who the various callers actually are, or at least, who all the callers are that the fans have been able to identify:

Look at that fucking spreadsheet. Everything from before episode 47 is something I heard and did not realize it was anyone besides a listener playing a game. Looking at it again, I’m now pretty sure that none of them were from actual listeners. I think that from the beginning, John Robins and Elis James decided it would be funny to set up a fake listener call-in segment, where they have comedians call in in character, as a parody of real Agony Aunt segments. And I didn’t catch on until episode 47, when Cariad Lloyd overacted just a little too hard. I think the sections of that spreadsheet where the “real identity” is blank are just the sections where no one has successfully identified who they were, maybe they’re non-famous friends of John and Elis.

It all makes sense now, of course. When that one woman called in and I noticed she had the exact same accent as Lucy Beaumont – really, the exact one, and I’ve never heard anyone else with that exact accent before, but I guess I just don’t hear many people from Hull, and this must be some other Hull woman – and she even had quite a Lucy Beaumont-esque problem, of saying she keeps having dreams that then come true. I thought, maybe it’s common for people from Hull to believe in supernatural things, the way Lucy Beaumont does. Obviously, I am now aware that the caller was, in fact, Lucy Beaumont.

When someone who introduced herself as “Isobel from Crystal Palace” called in, and I thought – that’s interesting, because Elis James’ partner Isy Suttie lives in Crystal Palace, her full first name is Isobel and this caller’s accent even sounds a lot like Isy’s – yep, that was Isy Suttie, and actually that barely counts as a disguise, she literally introduced herself with her real name. I… definitely should have got that one. It’s weird that I didn’t get that one. Especially since it was the episode after John’s then-girlfriend, Sara Pascoe, called in as a character named “Sara”.

I think I a bunch of them do this – call in with problems that are in some small way to related to themselves. Like Lucy Beaumont called in as someone with an absurd belief that she has psychic powers, but the real Lucy Beaumont also believes in psychic powers. I’ve just listened to the first of several Tim Key episodes (episode 59), and he has mentioned that one of his problems is related to a reindeer skull. I know Tim Key really did have a reindeer skull in 2015 (when that radio episode aired), because he brought it as a prize on Taskmaster season 1, which aired in the same year.

Looking at this makes me see that it makes sense that I’d initially grouped the Jellis radio show in with Pappy’s Flatshare and Three Bean Salad, on my list of audio comedy things to get to at some point, because clearly those people run in the same circles. All three people from Pappy’s, and all three people from Three Bean Salad, appear on Textual Healing at least once.

That list also contains quite a few people whose voices I know really well, I cannot believe I missed them all. I heard Josie Long and didn’t recognize her! Romesh Ranganathan, who’s got a very distinctive voice. I think I actually did, for the briefest of moments, vaguely think “Oh that sounds a little bit like Ivo Graham,” one time. But not enough to actually realize it was Ivo Graham. I didn’t recognize Matthew Crosby, even though when I listen to the Pappy’s podcast, I always appreciate that I have no trouble picking out Crosby’s voice, since I can’t tell Tom and Ben apart and it would get really confusing if all three sounded the same.

The worst of these by far is I heard Daniel Fucking Kitson and did not realize it was him. Do you know how big a deal that is? I have spent an utterly indefensible number of hours listening to Daniel Kitson talk. I just checked, and I hesitate to even share this information because it’s so over the top, but if I isolate all the audio files in my Daniel Kitson folder and get their combined duration, and then do the same with the video files in there, and add those two durations up, it comes to about 720 hours. And I have listened to every moment of them, within the last couple of years. That number is slightly inflated because it includes both the full versions of his radio shows with the songs still in, and the cut versions with the songs edited out, so some of the content is duplicated. But still.

Also, for the last year I have been an assistant in a similarly over-the-top project to collate all the Kitson radio clips that my friend and I can possibly find, where said friend (the word “assistant” might be too grandiose for me, my friend has done the vast majority of the work and my contributions have consisted of writing down the names of songs while editing them out of some episodes) has uploaded them to a website that I will deny having anything to do with if it ever comes to attention of attention-avoidant man himself, in fact I will deny ever having heard of Daniel Kitson. But the point is that we have scoured the internet for any references to any time in any year that Daniel Kitson may have appeared on any radio station in any form, because this radio archiving project exists to satisfy the relentless completist that runs deep through my entire personality.

And still, despite all that, I heard a new bit of Kitson on the radio – a clip we didn’t even know existed, and I hadn’t just found a reference to it having happened so I could try to track it down, I had the actual clip right there in front of me, and I did not realize it was him. 720 hours were not enough for me to be able to recognize that voice when I heard it out of context. Not even a brief moment spent thinking, “Oh, that sounds like Kitson.” He even called in with a problem that’s slightly thematically related to some stuff that Kitson used to allude to in his stand-up around that time.

I've enjoyed lots of other little cameos by various comedians. They once took a call from Matt Forde once to defend Oasis as the greatest band in history, which furthered my view of Matt Forde as the essence of centrism in every way. They read out texts and Tweets from listeners all the time (genuine listeners, I think, I'm assuming the entire show isn't just a front), and names of people who sent those in have included, at different times, Iain Stirling, Nish Kumar, Pierre Novellie, Gavin Osborn, and Mike Bubbins. But I did not realize that I was hearing other comedians' voices all the time.

Obviously, I need to go back and hear them again, with this new information. I am downloading the episodes that are marked as being an identified comedian in disguise, and going to go through and cut out all the Textual Healing clips so I can put them in a folder. A folder where I clearly mark the episode number and the date and the name of the comedian, because it bothers me that such an archive doesn’t seem to exist already, because it always bothers me when archives with clearly labeled relevant data don’t exist (though I do hugely appreciate whoever created that spreadsheet). Once I finish the folder, I’ll share it on Tumblr in case anyone else would like to hear some comedians call in as various characters.

But in the meantime, I’ve just finished cutting out the first Textual Healing with an identified comedian, on episode 4 – March 9, 2014 – with Sara Pascoe.

Okay, sure, now I get that it’s pretty fucking obvious who that was, when she introduces herself by name Sara, and complains about her boyfriend who’s always playing phone games, and John Robins has talked several times about having an addiction to phone games that’s gone back and forth from low-level quirky to a serious problem throughout his life and ruined his relationship with a previous girlfriend. And when, in those years, Sara Pascoe repeatedly used comedy shows to complain about her relationship with John Robins, with and without his involvement (I’m remembered a particularly awkward episode of her in Dictionary Corner of Catsdown). Yeah, I really should have figured that one out from the beginning.

Then the next episode Isy Suttie calls in with an adorable little story about her and her boyfriend having pet names for things together, which I’d say shows the contrasting personas of the two presenters of the Jellis radio show pretty well.