#I’m upset I’m upset :( I’m so sad right now…..

[inkdrinkerworld]

SOFT DOM REMUS HELPING READER GET OM HER GRINDDDD like i love working out and school and stuff sometimes I find hard to keep going once the motivation wears off not out of lack of discipline but more out of negative self talk he would nooooooot allow that

Reader’s having a it of negative self talk, mention of their body not looking the way they want it to and having lumps and rolls (I thought of what I say to myself to make it a bit realistic) but please don’t read if that’s gonna be triggering <3 thank you for your request, lovely

You’re on your third outfit and all you see when you stare into the mirror is nothing to be proud of.

You huff as you basically rip the dress of your body, pout in full effect as you rifle through your clothes for a good outfit.

“I swear to god nothing looks right.”

Remus turns from his spot in the bathroom where he’s shaving his face with a frown. “How do you mean dove?”

There’s not much for him to alarmed about yet.

“There’s something wrong with how I look I’m telling you, Rem.” A few shirts fly from your pile.

“I have to wear pink or red tomorrow for work and it’s like everything I own in those colours either make me look pregnant or like I’ve got extra limbs.”

Remus shakes his head and sets down the razor as he makes his way to you.

“Could it be that you’ve just gone off your period so you’re still a little bloated?”

You don’t want to hear reason right now.

You’re ugly and that’s all. But it’s not, because it’s untrue.

“Or a second thing which is much simpler, I’m just unattractive. And nothing’s right on me because there’s lumps and rolls.”

Remus shakes his head, stern as he meets you in the closet and sets your hands to your side with firm pressure.

“Cut it out.” His tone cuts through the air leaving no room for arguments. “You’re a day off your period dove, some bloat is normal. I understand that you don’t feel comfortable in your body right now but that’s no way to talk to or about yourself.”

Remus has a way of melting down the fat of every negative conversation you try to have with yourself and helps you be neutral about your body.

Your bottom lip juts out just so. “I just want to feel pretty.” There’s a lot less attitude and upset in your tone, just a little sadness Remus wants to wipe away.

He nods, kissing your forehead as his eyes scan your rack dresses. “How about you wear that red and white dress? And I can curl your hair tonight and help you do the bun tomorrow morning?”

You nod, tears gathering in your eyes. “I didn’t mean all that.”

Remus smiles, stroking your face. “It’s alright to be frustrated with the way you change baby, but there’s nothing wrong with the changes.” He kisses your nose. “Plus, no matter what you think, you’re the most gorgeous person on the planet.”

You giggle, a little shy under his doting. “Can I wear your jumper to bed?”

Remus rolls his eyes but it’s all fond. “This one yeah?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

[starlightsreigns]

daddy lessons | a lemonade story

summary ⇢ mellie finds solace with the people who brought her life. six months feel like a lifetime without him, but her daddy warned her about men like him, so where does she go from here? word count ⇢ 2.5k tag ⇢ none. | five ; accountability “My daddy said shoot”

My daddy warned me about men like you

There’s an under-appreciated peace at your parent's house when you’re in pain. They don’t judge the hurt you're feeling, and they don’t ask questions when they can feel it in their bones that their daughter just needs their support. My mom can read my mind and it’s been like that since my younger years — she has that special ability to know exactly what the problem is without me uttering a word. 

“Mellie, baby, come eat.” she stands beside the couch. “You can finish your show afterward.” 

Her hands pull me off the couch, then lead me into the dining room where my dad is waiting. He sports a sad smile when we meet eyes, but doesn’t say anything. I know it’s because he doesn’t know what to say besides cracking a joke. 

Breakfast is quiet. My fork scraps against the side of the plate. Usually, I’d scarf down whatever my mom makes, but eating is the last thing I want after the last couple of weeks… and months… and year that I’ve had. It leaves me nauseous and anxious. 

My mom leaves the table after a while, taking the silence with her. My dad finally clears his throat but it’s impossible for me to look up at him. I know he’s going to try and give me advice, but as much as I love him, it’s not what I'm looking for. 

Came into this world, daddy’s little girl

“I know this isn’t what you want right now, Mel, but listen.” My dad sets his utensils down. “You don’t have to tell us what’s going on with Roman, but you Mellie, you’re stronger than that.” 

Defeat fills my entire body at his words, but he continues. 

“I love you, Melody, you’re my only baby girl and I don’t like seeing you upset. It hurts my heart.” 

Finally, the dam inside me breaks. The tears fall across my creek and my chest tightens in an attempt to keep my sobs at bay. My dad moves to the chair beside me and wraps his arm around me, cradling me against his chest when the sobs finally escape my body. 

“It’s okay, let it out.” He hums. “You can’t let this break you, Mellie, this won’t break you.” 

My breaths choke out, “It hurts, I trusted him and –” 

He stops me, “I never wanted you to go through something like this.” His voice chokes out. “It took a long time for your mom to ever forgive me, but I never want you to feel like this defines you or that you have to stay in something like this.”

When I was in middle school, my parents went through the roughest part of their relationship. He cheated on her with a coworker, and my mom who’s usually the nicest person, went on a bender filled with rage. I felt the coldness in the house and how much hatred she carried for over two years. For the longest time, no one was sure they’d ever get back together. It took separation and a lot of therapy for it to even be a conversation for them. 

“I know, papa.” I sigh. 

We sit in silence for a little while longer. My eyes shift up, hearing the clicks of my mom’s heels. She offers us a small smile and beckons us to follow. In the living room, she had it set up for a movie day. The couch was filled with blankets, more food on the coffee table and the lights turned down. 

But at this moment, I’m thankful that neither of my parents brought up the famous I told you so. They initially had concerns about me getting married. They love Roman, they really do, but his career made my mom question how the space would affect us. My dad said he saw a piece of him in Roman, and as bad as it is to say, I wish it wasn’t this part. The infidelity that broke my mom is now breaking me. 

He said, “Baby girl he’s playing you” 

“Mellie, you have a visitor.” My mom stands in the doorway. 

A groan slips past my lips as I turn to look at her. She motions me out and then disappears before I can get out of bed. I shuffle out and down the stairs. At the last step, Roman stands there with my dad. It’s tense. My dad is staring at Roman with his hands stuffed into his pockets. The look on his face forces Roman to stare down at the ground. 

“Dad,” My hand lays gently on his arm, kindly nudging him away but he only takes a step. 

“You can talk to her,” He grits. 

My heart pounds through my chest. I turn to my mom who is standing in the living room awkwardly. How can I plead for them to leave us alone? This is already too much and I can’t handle a conversation with him when they’re standing beside us. My mom finally looks at me and sees the look in my eyes and nods. 

“Hun, c’mon, let’s leave them.” She walks over and grabs his arm. 

“I don’t trust him, baby, I can’t let him keep playing my daughter.” 

A chill runs up my spine as my dad takes a step closer to Roman. It’s an involuntary movement for me to move up and block Roman from my dad. I’m not sure why I want to protect Roman from the ass-whooping my dad would so graciously give him, but there’s a piece of me that doesn’t want to see him bleeding on the floor. He’s still my husband.

“Dad, please, just let me talk to him.” I smile softly. “Twenty minutes and I’ll be back inside.”

For a moment, while his eyes are still locked on Roman, I’m sure my dad was ready to jump across me and tackle him to the ground. Thankfully, he nods and steps back into my mom. 

Outside, I sit on the porch swing. Roman stands near the door and takes a deep breath. It makes me laugh softly. 

“I’m happy that made you laugh,” Roman hums with a small smile. “I thought he was gonna shoot me.” 

“He has his shotgun in there, it’s still possible.” I glance in his direction. “What are you doin’ here, Roman?”

Roman carefully sits beside me on the swing, “I know you don’t wanna see me, Mellie, but I can’t go every day without seeing you.” He glances at me. “I know you’re here and safe, but I just have to see it myself.”

The cool air makes me wrap my arms around my shoulder and then lean up. I keep my eyes on the driveway to try and come up with any words. My mind swirls with too many thoughts and too many different emotions. As I zone out, I feel Roman’s jacket on my shoulder. It doesn’t make me move but instead close my eyes. 

“It doesn’t make this any easier, Roman, seeing you all the time doesn’t help me figure out where we’ll go from here.” I finally look at him. “I love you with all my heart and that’s the problem. I love you so much that I can’t step back and truly feel all the emotions.” 

He nods, “What can I do? I can’t be away from you, Mellie, but I want to fix this.”

The heavenly smell radiating off of Roman’s jacket makes my head spin. This is the closest we’ve been in months and it makes me realize how much I’ve missed him. Two months can feel like a lifetime. I wrap his jacket around me tighter and sigh. 

“There’s so much hate in my heart, still, I wish the love was enough but I can’t remember any of the good.” 

Silence follows. Neither one of us knows how to continue. 

A question hammers through my brain like a drum. It’s something that has been tucked away since coming to my parents' house. If me and my mom could forgive my dad for his mistakes in the past, why can’t I move past this with Roman? If I love Roman the way I know I do, why can’t I allow us to rehab it?

The sound of the front door opening pushes the thought away. My dad steps a foot out and looks in our direction. He motions me inside and it reminds me of when I was younger and guys would come around – they were never allowed in the house and we had twenty minutes on the porch before he’d eventually tell them to go the hell home. Something never changes with my dad. 

So, because I know he’d pull me into the house, I stand and start towards the door. 

“Mel, please come home.” Roman grabs my hand. “Please.” 

Focusing on my dad for a second, but he surprisingly doesn’t give me a reaction. Instead, he looks away and peers at the yard. I’m left alone to make that decision. 

“I can’t.” My voice shakes when I glance back at Roman. “I can’t do that.” 

Tough girl is what I had to be

For four days I rotted in bed while wrapped in Roman’s jacket. Every time I see him there’s some sort of regression that happens. Yet, I’m not even sure I can call it regression. I want to forgive him, but my pride and the hurt make it impossible for me to ever let those words come out of my mouth. 

The house is empty while my parents are at church this morning. The silence isn’t comforting. It takes me back to countless mornings, evenings, and nights I spent wondering where he was and if he was with her. It reminds me of the nights when he lay in bed and I sat on the floor in agony. The silence reminds me of the pain anger and sorrow that I can’t seem to shake anymore. 

How can I ever go back to normal? The person I was a year ago was someone I can’t even remember now. Melody from a year ago was lively, she partied, hung out with her friends on a daily, and would jump at the thought of her husband coming home to see her. Now, she sits in a house an hour away from him. 

My world stopped spinning a long time ago and I’m just now feeling the effects. 

From my spot on the couch, I can see out the window and to the yard. The rain sprinkles softly and casts a beautiful glow on everything due to the sun that was also out – you can’t help but love Florida weather, it’s as bipolar as my emotions about Roman are right now. 

A figure passes by the window and a knock rings through the house. There’s a part of me that so desperately wants to ignore it and sink further into the couch and my despair, but a voice forces me to go against that. 

“Sis, come open the door, I know you in there.” 

When I finally, through much internal monolouge, open the door, Jey gives me his award-winning smile. He doesn’t wait for me to say anything before he pulls me into his arms. A groan slips pass my lips at the sheer force behind the hug. 

“You’re gonna crush me, Jey,  lemme breathe.” I choke out. 

He let’s go of me reluctantly, but keeps his hands on my shoulders, “I just wanted to check on you, baby, Trin’s worried about you.” 

“I’m fine, brother, just trying to…” My voice trails off. 

I’m not sure what the hell I’m trying to do anymore. I thought I’d figure everything out by now, it’s been six months, but I’m more confused now than I was on day one. 

“What the fuck?” After plopping back down on the couch, I look up at Jey, “I don’t know what the hell I’m trying to do.” 

Jey sits beside me and takes my hand into his, “You know we all here for you, Mel, and we always gone be on your side.” He rubs his fingers over the palm of my hand. “Tell me what you need and I’ll help you.” 

My mind goes blank. I’m not sure what can be done at this point to make anything easier for me. But, I know Jey won’t leave this house until he gets an answer, that’s just the type of person he is. For as long as we’ve known each other, Jey is very confrontatioanal and he can’t help it. I lean against his shoulder and stare at the wall. 

“You believe me, right, Mellie, Imma always be here for you?” Jey leans down to find me eyes. “Cause I don’t think you believin’ me.”

“I believe you, swear.”  I whisper into his shoulder. “I’m just so lost and I feel like my life is falling apart.”

For a moment, he lets us sit silently. The way his focus stays on rubbing my hand makes me take a deep breath. 

“Did she tell you?” My voice fights against me. I’m not sure he heard what I ask, but when he clears his throught I shut my eyes. “I don’t want Roman to know.” 

“I won’t tell him, Mel, okay?” Jey wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer. “Let’s just sit here.”

He taught me to be strong 

How much longer can I stay here? 

How much longer can I be angry? 

How much longer can I pretend I’ll be okay? 

There needs to be a resolve and I can’t picture my life without Roman. I can live without him. I can survive without him, but I don’t want this to be the end of everything we’ve worked for all these years. Yet, maybe something just need to end.

“Melody, come here.” My mom beckons me from the kitchen. 

It was nearly time for dinner and she’s standing near the stove. I leaning against the sink with a roll of the eye. My irritation isn’t with her, she knows that, but I’m not sure how to get rid of this feeling. 

“This feeling you have, the one you don’t want to share with any of us, I understand it and I resonate with it.” She glances at me. “It took me so long to forgive your father and there was a point where I thought if I forgive him I’d lose a piece of myself, but whatever you decide won’t break you and it won’t make you any less of a woman.” 

My eyes focus on the ground. I’m not sure what she wants me to say but she continues. 

“What he did isn’t right and there’s no way to get rid of that hurt, baby, but if you love him and you want to make it work you both have to take that first step and talk through this.” She finally turns and looks at me. “If you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to, but you both still need to talk.” 

We need to talk. 

I stare at my mom for a moment then nod. 

We have to talk. 

… but I’m not ready.

“Your mother is a woman and women like her cannot be contained. Mother dearest, let me inherit the earth. Teach me how to make him beg. Let me make up for the years he made you wait. Did he bend your reflection? Did he make you forget your own name? Did he convince you he was a god? Did you get on your knees daily? Do his eyes close like doors? Are you a slave to the back of his head?”

no words, hope you’ve enjoyed x

[bcksbarnes]

snipped

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky is feeling plagued by his past so he asks you to cut his hair.

word count: 1.2K

genre: fluff, sad!bucky

bucky wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to do this, unfortunately his hair had been apart of him for so long that it was like an extension of himself. it was both a mask that represented a time that he wished to forget, and a reminder of the better human he needed to become. but, the thoughts of the tragedies he caused while looking the way did weighed heavy on his mind. he already spent most of his nights woke up with nightmares from his time as the winter solider, he couldn’t continue looking in the mirror and feeling the same way as well. 

“hey,” he says as he walks into your bedroom, leaning against the doorframe while he watches you lay in bed. when you don’t respond right away he calls your name, causing you to look up from your phone with a small blush on your cheeks. 

“sorry, nat’s on a date and i wanted to see how it was going.” you respond, placing the phone next to you on the bed. 

“did she answer?” he asks, a small smile on his face as he watches you. 

“yeah, she said he’s boring. what else is new.” you tease, your eyes raking over his face. it only takes you a second to realize he’s uneasy. “what’s wrong?” 

you two had been together long enough that it didn’t take much for you to know when bucky was upset or thinking about something. his usual quiet and brooding behavior was always met with small quirks like tapping his foot or biting his top lip when there was something on his mind. this time it was the former. 

he sighs as he kicks off the door frame, moving to the edge of the bed and sitting down, still an arms length away from you as he tries to think of how best to approach the topic. 

“can you cut my hair?” he lays it out, his fingers picking at a piece of lint at the bedspread, feeling sheepish as he doesn’t meet your eyes. he’s embarrassed by this for some reason. he’s cut his own hair before, usually when he was on the run and was able to find a rusty pair of scissors, but that was usually just a trim and now there’s something about the meaning behind this that makes it hard for him. 

your gaze softens as you hear his request, sitting up further on the bed as you wait to see if there was anything else he was going to say. when you were met with silence you speak up. 

“of course i can.”  

bucky looks over at you, his smile had faded a few moments ago and now all he could think about was how this was going to feel. liberated? angry? happy? he wasn’t too sure, and maybe that’s what scared him the most. 

he had done horrible things as the winter solider, things that he could never forgive himself for, but life was different now. he was deprogrammed, he was helping people, he met you and he was starting to feel like he was allowed a life of not always having his demons follow him around. he was ready to move forward. 

“hey.” you move off the bed to stand in front of him, your hand moving to gently grab his chin and tilt his head up towards you. “we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready, bucky.” 

he sighs softly at your touch, his hands moving to rest at your hips as he pulls you a bit closer, your legs slotted between his. it’s intimate and full of affection, you two always know how to keep your touches light but meaningul. 

“i am ready.” though he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself by saying it out loud. “i think ... i’m ready to stop torturing myself every day with the reminder of my past. i want to move forward. i want to show myself that i’m capable of moving forward.” 

your heart aches at his words because you will never understand the pain he goes through everyday, but there was nothing that was going to stop you from supporting him. your hand moves from his chin to cup both of his cheeks, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his forehead. his grip on your hips tighten a bit as you hear him let out a shuttering breath that he had been holding in. 

his hands move up to press against yours, keeping your touch on his face close for a moment as he relishes in the comfort. and despite popular belief, bucky barnes needed comfort. 

it’s a few minutes later that the two of you are in the bathroom, bucky is sitting on a folding chair he managed to find and you had both the scissors and clippers ready to go.  

“are you sure?” you stand behind him as he sits, your hands on his shoulders as your gazes meet in the mirror in front of you. he nods his head softly, saying everything that he’s incapable of verbalizing in that moment. “okay, i’ve only cut hair like once so if it comes out bad don’t hate me for it.”  

bucky cracks a small smile before he closes his eyes, letting out one last deep breath before you get to work. a comb works through his long hair one last time, getting all the knots out as you place it in a short ponytail.  

the metal scissors are in your hand and you whisper a soft you got this to him before you begin to cut. it takes a second to cut through it all but before you knew it you were holding onto most of it in the ponytail. it was shorter, shaggier, needed to be buzzed down and given a little height – but he looked good. different, but good. 

you can feel the way he shifts anxiously while you use the clippers, having to tell him to stop moving on a few occasions so you didn’t accidentally cut him, but it’s over almost as soon as it starts, his eyes still closed tightly not wanting to look until the finish product. 

your hands find their way back to his shoulders once you put your tools down, taking a moment to admire your work and how different he looks. you bring your lips down near his ear. 

“you can open your eyes, buck.” 

a beat passes and you can tell he’s nervous to but he has to face it at some point. one last deep breath leaves his lips before his eyes flutter open, landing on the mirror in front of him. 

he doesn’t speak for a minute, his eyes taking in his features and his new defined haircut. it looks great, if you say so yourself, but in that moment he’s hard to read and you’re not sure what he’s going to say. 

bucky rests his elbows on his knees and his head drops forward, your hand soothingly rubbing his back. when he looks up again his eyes are red and teary, the moment obviously catching him off guard with how much it would mean to him. 

“how do you feel?” your voice is soft, keeping the both of you grounded in this moment which you know he appreciates.  

a tear slips from his eyes and he runs a hand through his freshly cut hair. one word slips through his lips. 

“free.” 

[ghostgirl-22]

Not necessarily sexual, but what if Art takes care of Patrick for once?

Patrick is upset over something cruel his father told him and wakes Art up with his sniffling. Patrick never cries so Art is immediately alarmed and tries to get him to open up. Patrick tries to mask his feelings at first, but eventually breaks down and cries into Art’s chest. They fall asleep with Patrick being the little spoon for once, wrapped in Art’s arms.

I chopped this up a lot but I think I got to the core of your ask nonnie <3 Idk why in my head I could see Patrick just being the whacky charming youngest and favorite of his parents. Forgive my typos… happy Valentine’s Day maybe I’m gonna write a valentines fic tomorrow when Valentine’s Day is over. Anyway love y’all.

TW: period typical homophobia, use of a slur, internalized homophobia, otherwise SFW.

——

Patrick does this thing where he acts like nothing gets to him. Like nothing can hurt him. For a while Art was envious because he believed the act. Now he knows better. He sees it now… the way Patrick will smile even more when his eyes are sad. The way he’ll shrug and then fidget, fingertips tapping a fragile rhythm like the physical act of it can divert the pain away. The way he goes quiet. 

Still he never saw Patrick cry before this summer. It’s their last summer break before senior year. They’ve been spending at least a few weeks together every summer since they were 12, going back and forth between each other's houses. Patrick’s summer house in Connecticut, Art’s family home in Massachusetts. It was easy. Patrick had the bigger house of course, the bigger bedroom, all the latest game systems, a tennis court. So many places on his family's estate to hang out and explore. 

Patrick’s family is a little more complex than Arts though. 

It’s no secret Patrick doesn’t get along with his older brother, Levi. Art actually doesn’t like him either. He’s ten years older then them and he’s everything that Patrick isn’t, more smarmy than charming, flashy and pretentious, lording his daddy’s money around and reminding Patrick that it’s his birth right. He’s a lawyer now and already works for their dad’s company. But all it takes is five minutes talking to their tennis loving dad to understand why Levi hates Patrick. 

“Tennis is such a beautiful game. I played for years but never came close to what you and Patrick can do on that court.” Patrick’s dad says wistfully. He would often stand courtside to watch them play in the summers.

Levi is no athlete. He doesn’t even like sports and there’s Patrick, the apple of their fathers eye because he can hit a ball with a racket. 

If Levi were less of an asshole, Art might actually relate to him. But he’s a total dick. He loves to make it known that Patrick was a ’mistake’. “Mom and dad were perfectly happy with the three of us,” he says of himself and Patrick’s older sisters one Friday night in July. 

That clearly bothered Patrick at one point but he’s used to it now. “Yeah and imagine how boring that would’ve been. One lame ass son.” Patrick mutters and Art grins. They’re eating ice cream in the oversized kitchen while Levi lingers at the wine cooler, pouring himself a glass. He watches as Patrick takes some of Art’s ice cream, his gaze cool. 

“I’d be careful if I were you Art, you know he’s a fag right?”

Art raises his eyebrows. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Patrick snaps. 

“Oh, he doesn’t know?” Levi’s eyes light up, gleefully. “Sarah caught him last weekend kissing the pool boy, the help of all people, moaning like a freak.” 

“I said shut up,” Patrick says, his voice cold. Art has never seen his cheeks turn so red before.    

Levi lets out a cruel little giggle. “Wait till dad finds out you're the fruity one. I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you, Art. You never know, you seem like his type. He might try something.” 

“I’ll fucking kill you if you say another word, fucking asshole,” Patrick shouts. 

“Don’t worry little brother, I’m sure they love butt boys in pro tennis,” Levi smirks, self satisfied in Art’s direction and takes his glass of wine back to the office where he’s been working. 

Art is tongue tied, barely able to make his brain connect to his mouth. He’s feeling all kinds of things, not even sure what half of the things he’s feeling even mean but he knows he’s furious on Patrick’s behalf. He glances at Patrick and that’s all it takes for Art to know what Levi said was true. He’s still red faced, fists clenched, staring angrily at the bowl of ice cream like it was the one who said those horrible things to him. And then he gets up and leaves the kitchen abruptly.  

“Wait Patrick,” Art says but he doesn’t stop. Art sighs and gets up following him to the bedroom. He’s several paces behind and when he gets inside Patrick has fallen to the bedroom floor, actually sobbing. Head in his hands. Art can’t believe his eyes. In all the years he’s known him, he’s never seen more than the slight sparkle when his eyes well up tears. If he didn’t before, he really fucking hates Levi now.

He gets down on his knees next to Patrick. 

“Art can you go, I need to be alone,” he mutters, chest heaving. 

“No,” Art says, he’s not sure how to do this but he wants to be there for Patrick. “He’s a fucking loser. Do you want me to beat his dweeby ass?”

Patrick sniffles a laugh and shakes his head. 

“He’s just pissed because…” Art rubs Patrick’s shoulder, a gentle pattern. “Fuck him okay I mean…” He doesn’t know what to say… or why he keeps thinking about the pool boy, Armando, tall, athletic, brown eyes, and long dark blonde hair. He looks and sounds like a surfer, but not from California but whatever beach they have in Spain. Art can’t get him out of his head for some reason. 

“It’s true,” Patrick mutters after a while looking up at him. “I think I… I do like boys.” 

Art presses his lips together, nodding. “That’s um— that’s okay, man. Uh… remember um… Calvin from the team… Calvin said he uh he kissed a guy before.” He takes a breath. He has to do better than this, but he’s starting to fixate on the color of Patrick’s eyes. He never realized how colorful they were. Now that they’re wet it’s like they sparkle. 

”I dont… I would never do anything to you… like… like what my brother was saying okay?” Patrick sniffles. 

Art swallows. God now he’s fixating on Patrick’s lips. God damn it. He needs to be fucking normal. Patrick is his best friend for crying out loud. Art wraps his arms around Patrick and closes his eyes. “Fuck him, man. He’s a homophobic asshole. If you’re gay then—”

”I’m not gay…” Patrick says softly. Art can practically feel his voice vibrating in his ear. There’s a strange familiar feeling at the base of his stomach, his instinct is to pull away but he holds on. 

“You’re not?” He doesn’t mean to sound relieved, fuck. 

“I’m bisexual,” Patrick murmurs. He pulls out of the hug and gets to his feet, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I’m just…” he laughs. “I’m a fucking mess. He’s hot and the way he was looking at me in the pool. I brought him to my room and well we just started exploring… I should’ve known we wouldn’t get any privacy here. Sarah just barged into my room and she can’t keep her fucking mouth shut. My dad is… well… I don’t fucking care.” He flops down onto his bed and takes a deep breath. 

Art crawls over on his knees. “Does he know?” 

“Not yet,” Patrick says, “but he’ll know as soon as he gets back from his business trip. Levi will make sure of that.” 

“Well,” Art crawls onto the bed and lies down next to him. “Not if we kill him first.” 

Patrick looks at him and then laughs. Art grins, happy to make him smile. He feels warm all of a sudden.  

Patrick sighs. “You want to play Mario kart?” 

“Yeah.”  

They lay down for an hour, only really chatting about the game. Patrick starts to get sleepy, it’s clear he’s still upset. He puts his controller down. Art turns off the game and settles next to him in the dark. His mind has been racing the whole time. Patrick’s never cried in front of him before so it feels like something has shifted.

“My dad isn’t gonna look at me the same,” he laughs but there’s a bitterness in it.

“You don’t… you don’t know that.” Art says gently.

“You think it’s weird, don’t you?” he rolls over to face Art.

“No,” Art says quickly. His parents had always taught him to be accepting of people’s differences. They always supported gay rights. But there was this part of Art that knew that their tolerance was only meant for other people. Unlike Patrick he was the only boy, he was expected to be traditional. 

“You’re a bad liar,” Patrick sighs. 

“I mean I think I’m just trying to process it. I had no idea and now it’s just…” Art takes a deep breath. 

“You really had no idea?”

“Well it’s not like you told me, and you…we always talk about girls.”

Patrick gazes at him. “Fair enough.���

“What’s it like?” The question just spills out of him, he can’t stop himself. 

”Hm?” 

Now it’s his turn to feel his skin heat up. Why is he so fixated on the stupid kiss? “Sorry it’s not important…never mind. I guess I just figured it’d be different then… uh never mind.”

”It’s a little different but the same in all the ways that matter,” Patrick says. He’s sniffling again. Art licks his lips and scoots closer to him. Patrick looks down, following the movement. 

“I could uh… I could show you.” 

Art thinks he’s joking and smiles, Patrick holds his gaze a little longer and Art swallows, something all too familiar suddenly thrumming through his body. But it makes no fucking sense. He can’t really be turned on by this. “You’re um… you’re serious?” 

Patrick laughs, “God,” he says, shaking his head. 

“What?” Art says. 

“Nothing, I’m a fucking mess. Can you…hold me until I fall asleep?” It’s Patrick using Art’s own words. Spoken a number of times when they were kids and he’d asked Patrick to do it in his grandmother's place when he was having trouble adjusting to boarding school.  

Patrick never told anyone about it, never even made fun of him which was surprising, considering he ribs Art about almost everything. Art isn’t sure what he’s feeling but he nods, “of course,” and lets Patrick settle into his arms. They lie in bed, Art keeping Patrick safe from the world for just a little bit. Inseparable, like two colors bleeding into each other, until they both fall asleep.  

[doodler16]

The thing about this whole discourse is that… I do agree with Vivziepop is that it’s silly to be upset when villains get merch. Yes even romantic Valentine’s Day merch. I don’t think it’s problematic if it’s between two characters in a consensual relationship, even if one of them is a vile piece of shit.

HOOOOWEVER….. the way Vivziepop is handling this is fucking horrible. Accusing survivors of not caring about survivors because they don’t like the merch you’re selling is fucking horrid. You can’t out-traumatize people. She also keeps tripping over herself. You say the Vees can’t be separated and that’s why Valentino is always included and yet Velvette is often missing from the merch (why aren’t they polycule??).

There’s also the very blatant Valentino favoritism that people are quickly picking up on. You made Angel Dust’s entire character about his rape. Valentino being a serial rapist is played off as comedic. While Angel dust being abused by Valentino is sad, Valentino violently raping and assaulting other women is played off s comedic. The fucking playbill was 50% Valentino art. It’s also baffling that Angel dust was excluded in the Valentine’s Day merch but not his rapist? There’s no way one of the most popular characters wasn’t added in Valentine’s Day merch, which sounds like she flat out does not care for Angel Dust or forgot about him.

There’s also, the fact that she openly hates Stella fans and makes fun of them. You don’t get to do that and then throw a fit when people don’t like Valentino.

Forget official VoxVal Valentine merch, one day Anon that moth will get an official plushie and Youtooz product. Shit will hit the fan when that happens. 😂

But yeah, Vivziepop handled that atrociously, this is the top 5 worst response from her I’ve seen so far. This is one of the rare times she should’ve said nothing or if Vivziepop does want to clear the air, make a professional comment and then wait for the drama to die out.

She was arguing with multiple people, blocking, deflecting all on bluesky off all places. At this point, go back Twitter. The favoritism is very clear with Valentino. I’m glad you mentioned Angel Dust being an accessory to Valentino, Anon because recently in Ayy Lmao’s comment section (about the Valentine merch drama) I found this baffling comment about Angel Dust.

Which proves that some fans do see Angel Dust as an accessory to Valentino unintentionally or not:

Of course, she makes fun of Stella fans. Regarding the merch here’s what Morgana said about it because she is in charge of it.

The reason why Huskerdust didn’t get Valentine merch is because right now they aren’t a canon couple yet.

[bleue-flora]

Soo…… I’m upset… :(

I searched all over the staged finale mountain and around the nether portal and did not find Dream’s bed or base or anything, leaving me with the same questions - where did he respawn?! How did he get there so fast?!

Then I reviewed the vod and realized he literally entered on his first death by elevator and his second he sneakily appears at the portal behind everyone…

Which honestly, how did we not find this sus before? Also it’s weird that Tommy is so sure Dream is up there to come down the elevator in the first place. Like what? Did he know his spawn point was up there or something? Heh?

My only conclusion for how he could spawn at the top of the elevator and then behind everyone is that he /tp-ed… which sucks because I really wanted to find a secret base or something… I’m feeling more and more robbed as a c!dream apologist. Like first we get scammed by not getting his pov, then we get scammed out of Las Nevadas and Staged Duo map secrets that are probably on another map entirely. Like come on.…

you’re telling me they captured 15 elder guardians in survival but then he just /tps in the big disc finale! Wtf?!…

[sunfloweraro]

Bunny in danger!

The Chain leave Bunny somewhere safe to clear a monster camp on their trail. Despite Wild’s assurances, Bunny isn’t so safe after all.

@thatonecrazysidekick @tiredgaytheatrekid pssst more Bunny! (I’m sorry)

TW for blood and injury.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Black sand exploded around him, and with half his group of monsters disintegrated, Hyrule had a second to breathe before the final four pounced all at once. A spear cut a fierce gash into his right arm, blood dribbling from the wound and staining his dark sleeve. Another nicked him on the calf. A third, he grabbed by the shaft and twisted out of the monster’s hands, relishing in the way its eyes widened in alarm before he shoved the weapon back into its owner’s stomach, the monster crumbling into black sand.

A high squeal, that fiery protectiveness within his chest swelling, forcing him to look up in time to see Bunny slam into a tree with a sharp shriek. Hyrule’s heart jumped into his throat as the little pink rabbit crashed to the ground in a heap. He didn’t move.

The fourth lizalfos took advantage of the distraction and sent its spear through the back of his thigh. Pain turned his vision white and Hyrule stumbled, the spear sticking out from the front of his leg, blood trailing down his thigh in dark rivulets. Then, he caught sight of that tiny bundle of pink fur, of a lizalfos stalking over to it, a fierce bite wound in its arm, and a wave of blistering fury and golden desire to protect flooded his mind. The air around him crackled.

“Don’t touch him!” A sharp snap of his fingers, and then dozens of bolts of lightning slammed into the ground all around him, turning the world white. The ground shook and lizalfos shrieked in terror, the sounds cut off swiftly.

And then the lightning was gone, leaving behind seven stunned heroes, their hair frizzy and wild and their eyes wide. Hyrule paid them no mind, nor did he feel the normal drain such a significant spell would cause or the spear still embedded in his thigh; he frantically hobbled over to Bunny, kneeling alongside him and gritting his teeth as the spear in his thigh shifted, his vision swimming alarmingly.

“Bunny!” His hands were already glowing a tender pink, healing magic at the ready, and he pressed them against Bunny, closing his eyes as his magic sought out the wounds his little friend had accumulated. His magic pulsed in response, a warning he ignored as he trickled more into Bunny’s still form.

“Traveller, your leg!” Wild had joined him at some point. Hyrule hadn’t noticed, when the edges of his vision were blurry, his ears roaring with blood. Now, his veins began to boil. “You need to—”

He turned to Wild, teeth bared. “You said he would be safe!”

Wild’s eyes widened and he flinched back as if Hyrule had struck him. “I…”

“Look at him! He almost died because of you! This is your fault!”

“I—I’m—” Wild’s eyes glistened now, and Hyrule found the flames were only stoked by the sight.

Before he could snap anything more, Twilight pushed himself between them. “Enough!” he hissed, pushing Wild away. “Take a walk, Cub.”

“B—but, I—”

“I know,” Twilight said, gentler than Hyrule thought Wild deserved. “We’ll talk later. I’ll take over.”

Wild nodded shakily, scurried away before Hyrule could say any more.

[incorrect-finding-frankie]

In the tags.

[corpsecoochie]

Can’t a bitch have a mental health day without someone immediately trying to make it theirs instead!

[sillee]

I would also like to second the YouTube comment. I just subscribed and I am so inspired by your save file and lore and it makes me so excited to play the game again, you made it feel so alive and full.

ahh thank you!!! it is so good to hear this type of thing, honestly! <3 it’s so exciting that my channel can be that for people.

[spacespore]

HI TUMBLRR it’s me

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

My roommate and I had a conversation last night and I keep rotating it in my brain and I Don’t Like It

[no-brain-just-good-omens]

THANK YOU HOZIER FOR BLESSING US WITH NEW MUSIC ON THIS FINE FINE DAY

[androgynealienfemme]

A well known Saudi trans woman on twitter was manipulated, tricked, and kidnapped back to Saudi Arabia from DC by a group of “security specialists” hired by her family so they could forcibly detransition her, which led to her suicide. She posted her suicide note yesterday on twitter, naming the people who facilitated in her kidnapping back to her abusive family, who include members of extreme religious groups like the Heritage Foundation, and today her family posted her funeral services announcement, misgendering and deadnaming her along the way. The evil in this world is horrific. I’m so heartbroken and sad to see this girl I admired snuffed out this way, and I pray justice is served for the Americans who helped set her up to be kidnapped, abused, and driven to her death.

Justice for Eden.

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

people begging me to do something to make a certain someone happy aren’t taking into account that i hate this person and i will revel in the knowledge that i kept them from getting the most perfect version of what they wanted. in fact i hope they mourn the loss of this for the rest of their life and die unhappy about it

[mom-friendtm]

period blues