#Since some of yall have seen me get through the worst of it haha

[socialc1imb]

look at what I finally received today

My diploma :)

[nincompoopydoo]

PINING, BAGELS, REPEAT.

— WHEN THE DRINKING'S DONE ; PART 6 / ?

( gif from this gifset by @jascontodd )

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

SUMMARY: Sunday night dinner with your mother doesn’t go as planned when Bruce shows up unexpectedly at your door and you both know how your mother really loves him alot.

A/N: Slow and kinda long-winded chapter again haha. I used to be the kind of person who couldn’t write long stuff. Now look at me. Who is she??? Enjoy this one yall. Probably one or two more chapters to go, depends on how much I can write <3

WARNINGS: Swearing, alcohol. I write about what I feel and they are very real. So if you find these things triggering, please do not read this.

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

Sunday night. You’re in an apron, flushed from the heat of the stove. You’ve just poured a glass of wine for your mother, but she doesn’t drink it—too busy walking around your apartment, clearing your stuff as she criticizes your lack of cleanliness and organization. Grading papers during exam season keeps you busy. Needless to say, you don’t have the time to clean your goddamn house.

You still love her anyway.

You’re at the sink, purple-stained fingers from peeling the tunic of the red onions are under running water when there is a knock on your door. It’s deafening, rapid, and agitating. You’ve just spilled boiling water onto your hand and you really don’t need another problem to come charging at your front door. Literally.

Moving out of the kitchen with haste, you call out over your shoulder to your mother to quit rearranging with bits and bobs of stationary and papers because yes, it’s messy but you know exactly where everything is. The knocking doesn’t cease, and your annoyance aggravates further. You’re gonna have to punch someone or something if it doesn’t stop.

You aggressively pushed the barrel of the bolt lock, swinging the door open as the strands of your wild hair flew backward in the sudden blow of air.

All forms of anger and agitation disappear as soon as your gaze meets the flushed face of none other than Bruce fucking Wayne, dressed in a grey dress vest, tie hanging loosely a pristine white shirt, and an ebony tweed overcoat. This feels like deja vu. Your expression goes through a series of mixed emotions, mostly confusion, when it morphed into a guise of embarrassment, cheeks even redder. “Don’t tell me I texted you by accident again?” He blinks, seemingly as bewildered as you are. “What? No, no. No. I—” His sentence is cut short when he takes a moment to catch his breath. Your brows are frowning even deeper than before. “Did you run here or something? And what are you doing here anyway?”

Bruce shifts in his stance, a palm against the door frame, shaking his head. He feels small under your interrogative stare. “No, I came here to see you…” he trails off, eyes shamelessly skirting across your figure. He just now notices that it may be a bad time for him to turn up, and you’re hit with the realization you’re in a ratty apron, very red and very sweaty. You’re right. It is deja vu because why are you always a mess when Bruce shows up at your front door unannounced? You abruptly pull the apron over your head, hurling it behind the door, hands palming the frizz of your hair into a somewhat presentable look.

“Look, I need to talk you—”

“Honey! Who’s at the door?” He’s being cut off mid-sentence again. This time, by your mother’s voice from the living room. Your eyes are wide again—so are his.

Your mother’s fondness for Bruce is an understatement. Obsession is a better word. She had only met him once, and that was six years ago but the conceptualization of being somewhat related to an exceptionally handsome and successful man had gotten to her head all those years ago. Hell, she loves him more than she loves you. Your mother—A woman who wishes to call your best friend ‘son’ with a whole lot of love to give. If she discovers Bruce is here, at your doorstep, she will never let go. Never. And you both know it. There’s a silent understanding that travels between the two of you and the look you’re giving him tells only one thing—Run before it’s too late.

“Bruce Wayne as I live and breathe...”

Well, too late.

A small-statured lady stands on the farther side of the hallway, face lit up with sheer joy and excitement as if she had just won a lottery. She approaches him with arms open wide and soon, her hands are laid on his cheeks, examining the man’s face carefully. Bruce just stands there, stiff as a rock, unsure of how to regain his composure from all the adrenaline of wanting to see you now that he was in such close proximity to the woman who raised you. When it’s you, he tends to struggle with timing and it’s partly the reason he has never managed to act on his feelings for you. For the longest time, he has wanted to be more than friends or whatever the hell this was. He had been hesitant but now, he’s very sure.

Sometimes it feels like it's the right person but the wrong time. He doesn’t want it to be that way. He wants to make things right with you.

And there he was, being squished under the grasp of the lady that loves him very much.

He catches your gaze; you flash him a sympathetic smile as you mouth the word “sorry.” Bruce arches his brows, indicating he has no idea what to do or how to get out of this situation.

“You’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you!” the older woman exclaims, a hand now firmly on his shoulder, the other brushing away his long strands of hair from his face with affection. Bruce would never admit it; he likes the attention your mother gives to him—the touch of a mother. Something he longs for.

“Why don’t you come in and join us for dinner? There's more than enough food.”

Crap, you should have known that question was bound to be mentioned. You’re not convinced that you will be able to suppress your emotional heartburn and the idea of Bruce tasting the dishes you’re cooking, it’s making your palms sweat. But what the hell. You shouldn’t be this nervous around him, you’ve known each other for years. He has seen you at your worst and vice versa.

Still, you’ll like to avoid the predicament of a dinner table set for you, your mother, and the man you secretly love. You’re quick with an answer. “Oh, I’m sure he has other important things to do. Bruce is very busy—”

“I’ll be happy to. I have no plans for tonight after all.”

You stare at Bruce, eyes glimmering with shock and betrayal—he is supposed to be on your side. He simply sends you a swift wink, and you feel the growing and most likely apparent deep red of your already flushed cheeks. You glance away to face your mother, eye crinkling in hopes of concealing the effect he has on you. Well, at least your mother looks fucking overjoyed. Maybe the night won’t end in disappointment.

-

The scent of chicken and spice whiffs through the air from the dishes of chicken and chorizo paella you’ve managed to whip up in a quick thirty minutes—a recipe you came by in an article titled “Fancy dishes for lazy cooks.” Well, it’s certainly working; everyone looks pleasantly surprised when you emerge from the kitchen with a cast-iron skillet within your kitchen gloved-grasp.

Happiness is the sound of the clinking of cutlery against nearly empty smeared plates, the splash of wine cascading from the bottle you held into the glasses of your guests, and the occasional laughter that erupts from your mother as Bruce tries to make a joke through mouthfuls of paella. A symphony of contentment and comfort, composed and orchestrated by the two most significant individuals in your life. Beauty is made anywhere beautiful people are; in this space, cramped up at the beech wooden table made for one by the casement window that overlooks the apartment across yours.

This side of Bruce—where boyish smiles were manifested and hearty laughs arising from the belly—is the side you miss the most. Years ago, things felt simpler though your past self would deny that notion as human life continues to become more intricate as we grow older and our eyes see more. Innocence to maturity. Happiness to grief. But, the complexity of this warfare between the brain and the heart seems to reside in perpetual darkness, no light at the end of the tunnel. For a long time, you thought deciding to be alone could eventually bring peace to the madness but maybe, you’ve been with the wrong people this whole time. It’s your reflection against the window pane that shows the evident crinkle in your eyes and the constant upward in the curve of your lips even though it contrasts the gloomy hues of blue from the sky at twilight—you’re happy.

It’s the way your mother leans over and wipes off the bits of rice from the corner of your mouth and the exchange of awkward smiles when Bruce accidentally brushes his hand against yours when reaching for the fork. This is what you want. And maybe, just maybe, you deserve to not be alone.

“So, have you decided on who you’re taking to the wedding?”

Your mother’s voice hauls you back from your daydream. She gives you a knowing look, discretely glancing towards Bruce on the other end of the table. She knows you don’t have a date, and you know she wants you to bring Bruce. You feel your anxiety creep back in.

This is weirdly the second time you’re in this situation.

“I don’t know yet...” In times like this, you wonder if your mother wields some sort of magical ability of truth or something because no matter how much you try, you can never lie to her. And now, you wish the ground would collapse and swallow you up. You know she means well, but oh my God, Bruce is staring at you and you don’t know what to do with your hands anymore.

“Wedding?” Bruce chirps with a questioning brow as he glances between you and your mother. Now, you’re forced to explain for the sake of context. “My cousin’s getting married next week and mom here wants me to bring a date.” Your mother’s expression indicates that you’re lying through your teeth. Yet in reality, it’s not technically a lie if you’re leaving parts of reason out of the explanation because it’s true she wants you to bring a date but you don’t mention how you don’t want to go alone because weddings make you sad.

It sounds pathetic.

Bruce just nods, taking a sip of his wine. The fact he’s not saying anything is making you anxious. You thought you didn’t want him to be your date but now, maybe you do. These feelings are messing up your brain. It’s just mush now, and there’s no cure.

These are the times you want to say “Fuck you, Bruce” but in the nicest way possible.

“Why don’t you bring Bruce?”

She was direct as they come but is mostly tired of your lack of initiative and doubt. I mean, it’s not like you’re asking him to marry you, right? And honestly, you’re kind of relieved you didn’t have to be one to do it but you can’t keep depending on her to do all the heavy lifting for you. You’re not a teenager anymore. You’re a goddamn grown adult.

Nevertheless, you peer at his reaction to this from the corner of your eye, fully expecting some sort of a resting jaded expression or eyes wide in horror but he’s just looking at you...with that look—highly bewildered and almost seems to be entertained by your embarrassment. Despite the purse of his lips, you manage to catch sight of the slight impish tuck of his lips.

He thinks it's the wine, but he isn’t exactly sure.

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

-

“Are you sure about this?” you cross your arms, as you watch Bruce shrug on his coat from the rack. The two of you are squeezed in the entryway of your apartment, huddling in hushed conversation. “About what?” he asks absentmindedly when in reality, he knows exactly what you’re referring to. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it’s an excuse to be around you longer. You purse your lips, shifting in your stance, eyes flickering away from his gaze. “About coming to the wedding,” you say it slowly, carefully, like you’re afraid to and you’re not sure why. He nods with the furrow of his brows, tugging his hands into the pockets of his ebony tweed coat. “I’m sure...Unless you don’t want me to come—”

“No, no. God, of course, I want you to come,” you stop, realizing how your sudden outburst of excitement must have made you seem desperate. You clear your throat, feet shifting once more. “I don’t want to pull you off work just because I don’t want to be alone.”

He raises his brows, nearing a little closer to you. “So that’s the real reason?” A hint of a smile—it’s a teasing one. You simply throw a fist to his arm yet unable to stifle your growing smile. “Don’t be a jerk.”

Bruce winces followed by a laugh that comes out more light a puff of air as he bares his palms in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, I didn’t say anything.”

Maybe, it’s the walls of this hallway, covered with hung framed photographs of family, childhood, and friends because it’s starting to feel warm. You think it’s the way his eyes light up when you laugh, radiating a sort of comforting warmth on this cold night. It feels like home. Bruce feels like home. You notice the prominent stain of your mother’s lipstick on his left cheek. You bring one hand to rest on the curve of his cheekbone, thumb trying to efface the smeared stain away.

You’re not sure if it's the smell of his deodorant or the sudden sense of his breath on your skin that made you comprehend the closing gap between your face and his. In an instant, your hand jerks away and returns to your side, clenching to a fist. Bruce clears his throat, bringing a hand up to scratch the growing stubble at his jaw. The touch of your fingers lingers like a burn.

Recognizing the tension in the air, you decide to avert your thoughts back to the conversation you were having in the first place. “You know, you don’t have to come. Really. You’ve done a lot for me, and you know that.”

“Yes...but I’ll always have your back no matter what.”

He smiles at you. The kind that reaches his eyes. He looks younger like this.

“And I’ll always have yours, Bruce.”

You’re an idiot. He’s an idiot. You’re just two idiots, standing in the hallway with hearts that feel like they’re about to explode. Despite the lingering tension in the air that’s still present, you bring him into an embrace. It feels natural, your arms around his shoulder and his on the small of your back. “Thanks for everything. Especially for making my mom really happy.” you punctuate your sentence with a gentle caress to the back where his shoulders meet. You hear the muffled sound of his laugh, feeling the rumble of his chest against yours as you try not to squirm at the brush of his unshaven chin against the curve of your neck. “No problem,” he mumbles before pulling away.

“And you need a shave.” You’re pointing to his chin and he finds himself scratching it again. He merely hums in response.

Swinging the door open while you wave him goodbye feels like a part of you is leaving. You’re not sure why you’re feeling this newly found emptiness in you when you know you’ll see him next week. You decide to blame the wine. It’s easier that way.

He’s walking away, already out of view when you decide you should really say something at least.

“Bruce,” you suddenly call out; he turns on his heels and backtracks a little too eager to face you at the doorway. “What was it you wanted to talk about?” He frowns in response, head tilting in a questioning manner. “When you came here, you said you needed to talk.”

He recalls the real reason he was here in the first place. Rushing to your door like you’re about to disappear any minute. Yet, you’re here, still at the doorway, three hours later. Fuck, he was about to confess.

Bad timing. Again.

Right person, wrong time.

No. He’ll make it right. Just, not now.

“I was...going to thank you for the bagels; Asiago. Nice choice.” Is what he says instead of reciting the words that had been running through his head in rehearsal since the drive to your apartment. He ignores the way your shoulders sag, perhaps in relief—he doesn’t want to know. He ignores the burning in his chest when you nod, the corners of your mouth tugging into a faint smile as you raise a palm in a somewhat solemn wave of farewell. He ignores the sting in his eyes when the door closes on him, symbolizing finality when he really doesn’t want it to end. Left alone in the dismal light of the hallway; it acts as a poignant reminder of his bereavement and how much of his consolation depends on your presence.

When the drinking's done, does it make it any easier for him to open himself up to you?

Bruce allows himself to cry once he pulls the car door to a close because he feels overwhelmed by the conflicting thoughts that continue to reside in his mind. The regrets, the what-ifs, and the should-haves. He forgets himself sometimes because he gets so lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t recognize himself anymore.

You keep him grounded. You remind him who Bruce Wayne truly is.

He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the rearview mirror.

You’re right. He does need a shave.

TAGLIST:

@raineeace

[skeetlehand]

ghost!tommy au masterpost #2

ghost tommy au masterpost part one

I made another one. w hhh

au summary: tommy loses his final canon life during the explosion right after the pogtopia vs. manberg war

Nobody really knew where he’d gone either - Tommy had allegedly gone “missing” after the festival. In L’manberg, everyone figured that while it was odd, since tommy would usually be running down the Prime path shouting, or just being generally loud and annoying... he was just... missing. Nobody had seen him all week, but everyone had thought they were the singular individual who hadn’t seen him lately. Eventually when one of them asked where he’d been, everyone came to the consensus that they weren’t the only ones who hadn’t seen him. At first, they thought he was just grieving, since he spent the most time with wilbur. But then ghostbur shows up, which, while was a pretty sad/happy moment, it raised some sort of unease.... 

.... and then, ghost tommy shows up.

I put more details under the cut!!! enjoy pain yall

feel free to send asks about... well, anything! if you found something interesting here, share it! if you’ve got a completely unrelated idea, share it! i like to read your asks. I promise i’ll answer... eventually... (the five asks in my inbox @ me: 👀)

courtesy of @gheysnakelady and their great ideas 👀❤️(you have so many good ones!!!)

current table of contents:

ghost tommy’s appearance

relationships with the rest of the sbi

ghost tommy’s memories

other ghost tommy stuff (misc i guess)

a) presence 

b) connections 

c) blue/yellow 

d) body found

”””pranks”””

dreamon hunters...? (become basically bootleg ghostbusters. but just only one of them.)

TBC: to be touched upon in the next masterpost/page set

relationships with the rest of the smp

a) SAM SAM SAM BIG BROTHER SAM AAA; b) the cabinet + lmanberg... hhh tubbo n big q,,, fundy and niki,,, dream,, the badlands... i need ideAS

reactions to the reveal (at some point... big oof)

.... a revival? phil no -

1. Ghost!Tommy’s Appearance

(should... should I be calling him ghostinnit now? yall use that term a whole lot...)

before he meets anyone (excluding ghostbur and maybe philza. some others might’ve seen him lingering around certain places, faintly), he looked simultaneously exactly as he did before he died, overlaid by his prior deaths (an sword/axe(?) to the back when trying to escape dream during eret’s betrayal, an arrow wound that goes in deep, and currently, visible blast marks and the wither effect). He hadn’t figured out what he looked like yet, other than the noticeable vision problems, but when he did, he did his best to change his form (it’s my current theory that ghosts look like what they want to look like - ie. ghostbur’s nice yellow sweater being a choice on his end). It’s an effort, to look “okay”, and when he goes off the rails, there are hints to what he looks like. 

it’s mostly because... Tommy remembers his death vicariously.  All of them. This is not a good thing.

when he does meet people, his form is slightly transparent, but he looks almost normal. there’s that new hairstyle, which really isn’t a stylistic choice on my end ;’] ... there is a lot of sooty(?) grey patches on his sleeves, and a large black mark smack dab in the middle his shirt. The wither markings on his hands aren’t clear, but that they are there is visible. He hates the wither effects the most - no matter what he does, how hard he concentrates, they. don’t. go. away.

He’s got hair over his eye, like wilbur. Gets uncomfortable when it’s joked about, because that’s a part of his face that’s.... yknow.... and he can’t hide it otherwise

Since ghost!tommy is more emotionally gripped than ghostbur is, unable to let go of the past and all the memories + emotions from it (while ghostbur lets go of it Very Easily), his form shifts a lot. Not only to his “death form” (all of his canon deaths on one ‘current’ form), but to that of the different arcs - dirty long sleeves for pogtopia (it’s cold in the ravines, and he don’t got a coat), ripped revolutionary outfit (eret’s betrayal and the arrow both happened here)... and during his more mellower moments, a green bandana that goes around the neck. He’s constantly changing in clarity, too. It’s hard to focus on him at times.

2. Relationships with the SBI found family gang: pain

did you really think we could have nice things in this au? if so... ouch

Phil

tommy did see him sort of as a dad/some sort of older figure to come to for help. but phil has a history of not exactly being a Dad. sure, he basically adopted techno, and wilbur definitely saw him as a dad, but for tommy, it’s an unspoken relationship that they should be like that, that phil should have his back, that tommy can ask phil for help. yet, they don’t. Phil showed up way too late in the game to make an effort on all of the impacts the wars and pogtopia and wilbur have created, and maybe tommy resents him a little, for leaving him and his brothers alone on the server. maybe tommy saw wilbur die by philza’s hands, moments before he did the same point is, tommy was never a “difficult child” persay, he made all of his complaints loud and clear. philza didn’t expect to do any “underneath the underneath” with him... and didn’t feel like tommy needed the attention all that much, since he could basically occupy himself. 

Think of it like this, at least in my au, that phil was never meant to be a dad. He just chose to be some sort of strong figure in the boys’ lives (found family!!!!) - but he was a survivor first and foremost, and sometimes it shows. His habits rubbed off on his boys, and that shows too - him avoiding talking about Big Things with ghost tommy is reminiscent of how ghostbur dances around questions, and being pressured into doing things is reminiscent of techno.

Tommy, on the other hand, felt as if phil always favored techno, and if not techno, then wilbur, over him. it’s okay though! he doesn’t need phil, he’s a Big Man™! Look at him... dealing with... a war... exile... funky brother problems... more war... okay maybe if phil showed up sooner things would’ve been better but he didn’t so tommy had to be the bigger man! that’s... that’s okay...? hmm. okay maybe he’s mad at phil a little bit,,,,

techno

ahh, complicated relationships *rubs hands*. 

tommy was proud of his brother, at first, the way only little brothers can be, bragging about their cooler bigger bro - that, and tommy lowkey thought there’d be someone to help him with wilbur’s decline. haha NOPE. techno don’t do emotional. thanks,,,,,

on the other hand, all ghost tommy can remember is techno being the unspoken favorite, the favorite child, the favorite brother, teasing and feelings of inadequacy (techno wasn’t a bad brother, though... just... better). And then…he remembers techno showing up well into wilbur’s long decline, techno’s silence when he could’ve used someone to speak up for him, techno’s passiveness towards the paranoia, techno’s stoicism when all tommy wanted was someone to be strong, someone else to be the better man. instead, the job was left to him. why was it always left to him? he wasn’t supposed to do all of this, right?

Techno doesn’t feel all too bad about it, before tommy’s death is discovered. He thinks that the impact of the statement was made through humiliation and violence enough (tommy being pinned down, the hero speech, the ruined victory, etc). What did tommy expect, using the Blade like that? honestly, techno’s a little offended, that tommy thought he could use his brother that easily, like some weapon made of more skill than any of them know what to do with. Techno had made his opinions very clear on government, and then they go on to appoint another one? (even though, it was sort of clear that the goal was to “go back” to the old lmanberg, government and all) so tommy kinda had it coming. besides, he’d respawn and they’d go back to normal.

but then wilbur dies, permanently, and techno has to watch his brother come undone into something else barely reminiscent of what he was momnents ago... ghostbur barely even resembles the wilbur techno used to remember. death matters, on this server, which is two blows in themselves that techno will have to deal with. and then... tommy doesn’t respawn.

techno was sure he’d seen tommy around lmanberg. albeit, like, kinda quiet, but maybe the kid was going through rough times since wilbur died. it wasn’t like techno was going to talk to him about it or anything, since his presence probably wouldn’t be welcomed anyway. tommy was kind of immature, in that regard - he’d be really annoying and yell, like he always did when something didn’t go his way. that, and he wasn’t exactly welcome in lmanberg anymore...

besides, if tommy had a problem, he’d make it clear himself, right?

wilbur/ghostbur

There’s a lot tommy isn’t willing to talk, about wilbur. What could he even say? more than half of the things he did, challenges he stepped up to, were to make Wilbur proud (as he remembered him). He hated losing, because he liked winning more, sure, but also because he wanted to make wilbur proud of him. See: the bow duel, giving up his disc for freedom.

but pogtopia wilbur, well... things only got worse. sometimes, things looked a little better, but over time, tommy learned to expect what came after. even with techno there, tommy was always left to be the “bigger man” - in the aftermath of the festival, the pit, the final pet war - no matter how much he lost, it was always him having to move forward from that point. nobody really helped. it was just tommy and wilbur, and the sound of silence in the ravine.

tommy saw the final explosion of lmanberg as both the ultimate betrayal (the worst thing wilbur could’ve done, couldn’t he have waited, phil was here, surely phil couldve done what tommy spent months trying to do, what techno wouldn’t do, why couldn’t wilbur have this?) but at the same time, he... figured wilbur would pull sometime like this. at this point, the victory might’ve lightened his spirits a whole lot, but he spent months with wilbur alone and in the course of the preparatory week, wilbur didn’t miraculously get better. tommy wishes he did, and he can wish all he wants, but deep down, he knows that he didn’t. the others might’ve not noticed, since they weren’t there for that long.

as for ghostbur, it’s... awkward. 

With ghostbur, he’s stuck between wanting to reach out to his big brother and stay away due to alivebur’s memory living in constant loop in his head. Sad as it is to say, he was sort of… relieved, when ghostbur revealed the extent of his memory loss. after that point..  if ghostbur remembers all the happy bits of their time on the server, surely he could help fill in the gaps? 

Ghostbur was kind of the first person he saw when he resurfaced, and ghostbur then couldn’t really understand the gravity of the situation, nor who tommy was because of how he acted and looked before. tommy didn’t approach him either, mostly out of fear and anticipation. (he couldn’t imagine this of all things, being stuck with wilbur for all of his undying days, hadn’t he had enough?) 

At first, it’s awkward. He doesn’t know what to say, or when to say things, and he’s a lot quieter than in life, so it’s noticeable. He meets Ghostbur, who greets him with joy, until he realizes that Tommy is dead. Memories of the manberg v pogtopia war arise, and he flees. He does not come back, because looking at Tommy hurts. tommy doesn’t get it, really... but.....

and every moment after that, the way ghostbur looks at him, with the guilt in his eyes, the way that he looks away, unable to bear looking anymore… well, tommy is starting to think ghostbur remembers a lot more than what he’s willing to let on (he’s afraid he is). If wilbur doesn’t like him, that’s not… that’s nothing new, anyway. it’s probably one of the few things that didn’t change.

3. Ghost Tommy’s Memories

Going by the HC that they’re caused by how you feel when you die. ie. Wilbur dies happy because he is relieved by Phil stabbing him. That he can rest, while Tommy gets the opposite. Wanting to live but having it so cruelly taken by a loved one that you trusted, only feeling pain and betrayal and the feelings when they had while dying is the reason why they only hold certain memories.

Basically: like Wilbur, only remembers memories associated with a type of feeling. However, unlike Wilbur, Tommy only remembers the bad things.

Ghostbur suggested to phil, who in turn, suggested to tommy that he recorded his memories in a book, like he did! thus, tommy’s “What I remember” book: which is full of stuff he just wants to remember

Dream Good Times (this is just a lie, haha... but refers to the time (read: blank space) before the first disk war)

jokes! (when you make fun of someone, even in good jest, it’s possible they won’t take it that way themselves.)

My home (because it’s been griefed and destroyed so many times at this point)

The disks (not what they sound like though, just that they were apparently important, that he fought for them. he can’t remember what they sound like)

My pets (pet wars. can’t remember whose pet was whose. he remembers mars, though. he talked to mars a lot, on days that pogtopia was quiet... empty...)

the duel

Winning the war (trading the disks for freedom)

L’manberg (manberg)

… Tubbo (? ...dying at the festival.)

Techno & Wilbur  (and phil, and what they did to him, and what they didn’t do.)

pogtopia hanging out with friends (there was nothing good about pogtopia, so he crossed it off and wrote the most blandest happy thing he could replace it with. he wishes pogtopia was just that)

the pit

winning the war (the victory, the explosion his death. if you ask why he wrote it twice, he just.. hesitates. “we won, right?” you might nod along, assuming his memory was just being faulty, that all he could remember were the two victories, that like wilbur, nothing beyond the election/exile registered... but you could also note that neither of those “victories” really felt like winning, in the end. consider the cost...)

i have a secret second list for his “actual memories”. i call it “the list of grievances”. i am so clever haha

4. other ghost tommy stuff

since ghostbur had to go and add some stuff to ghost Lore™, i guess ghost tommy now melts in the rain and snow. not that he really... cares...

other things! these are ideas, idk...

1. presence

maybe whenever he gets near someone, the temperature drops and people feel overwhelmingly negative emotions (ie. sadness, pain, anger, guilt, etc). the intensity of the sadness effect depends on the person or if the person is near - the more that person had done, the more they felt.

Wilbur just feels like melancholy. nobody really notices, since it’s .... well.

2. connections to things?

maybe he’ll be found at certain locations, like his house/jukebox, the election podium, pogtopia, etc, etc... just, ghosting...

4. maybe he’s not actually dead

3. have some blue .... or yellow

either:

a) ghostbur gives tommy some blue to hand out, trying to be nicer to him anyway, like “give people this, it makes people happier if you give them something to drain the sadness”!! but when tommy tries to hand it out, it’s already fully blue. If asked if it was supposed to be transparent, or why it’s already blue, or etc, he responds with “no it's always been blue for me!” because when he’s given it, it turns blue instantly. maybe he seems little sad it doesn’t work on him, but it must be because he’s a ghost, right?

or

b) maybe he makes yellow that gives people happiness (it turns transparent as it’s used), but when he holds it it stays yellow.... because really all it does is draw up previous feelings of contentment, but... can't feel happy if you've never felt it before :’]

4. his body discovery

his body can be found where it was last... left. since he didn’t respawn.

They find him while cleaning up the rest of the rubble. and it's evident how he died, because there are wither marks, explosion burns, and... a final injury that must’ve been the killing blow, since there’s no way he would’ve survived that. it's evident he suffered, but not from the killing blow. his face has that... expression. he looks as miserable as his ghost does, at times (contrary to wilbur's exact opposite). maybe techno is there. they're not sure if tommy just got caught in the crossfire. they think he did, because he was buried under all of this. who would have ... intentionally done this to him...? while he was trapped?

maybe techno approaches to see what everyone looks so wicked out by. and he sees his brother or more like, what was left of his brother. oof.

5. Pranks: completely out of chronological order i guess... BUT I WANTED TO INCLUDE IT AAA

tommy isn’t... peaceful. he’s not at peace. he’s surrounded by the people who he can remember taunting him, hurting him, betraying him, all he can remember feeling is anger, grief and resentment - how long do you think he’ll play nice for? even though he wants things to go back to normal, either he feels like he’s much too dead for anything to ever be the same, and/or everyone ... moved on pretty quick, huh.

tommy begins to prank the server, like he used to. but there’s a pattern to it, and it quickly devolves from seemingly light-hearted to borderline malicious and definitely inconveniencing/annoying.

ghost tommy filling dream's current base/go-to-residency (since this man canonically homeless) with clay... and then, later, other blocks, like tnt, obsidian... 

he sets up multiple jukeboxes when dream goes to sleep and have them all play cat/melohi at different intervals at once, kind of like. "you wanted this so bad, now eat it”.

misplace sapnap's current pets (if he has any). fill sapnap's house with horses, cows all named "h" names, and eventually turn it into an elaborate aquarium filled with tropical fish.

George’s house gets scrambled: like the blocks all get swapped and stuff, or replaced with lime wool/clay. maybe fill his house with alarm clocks or something? idk

He's hesitant about techno... so one of his earlier steps is: collaborate with sam with the horse maze (who sees it as a bonding activity! fun for the whole family!), but in the books, on the last page of all the books, he writes notes like "you know what you did" and stuff idk, i gotta come up with 8 of those. at the end, skeppy brings back the books and the hornse and techno's like haha i didn't write those books! and skeppy says, that makes sense! why would your write this... (he assumes the first few are threats, but then they reference techno in diff ways, so he gets confused), and then techno's like: wait what

maybe he probably releases all the horses n cows and other things techno’s got. or relocates them (cause he still cares about animals, he doesn't want to hurt them... he's not sapnap after all)

at first it's funny, normal. then it's annoying. and then it becomes worrying. it elevates in destructive tendencies, and also escalates in amount so people start going "tommy this is so annoying"-> exactly the reaction he wants, so he continues -> "this isn't funny anymore, tommy!" well, it never was supposed to be :)

....and they realize suddenly that none of it was meant to be a "prank" or a joke, tommy genuinely was trying to make their lives as hard as they did him.

ALSO EDIT: i bring you: dreamon hunters! part two! tubbo n fundy fight over what to do with ghost tommy, as tubbo doesn't think there's anything wrong with tommy (it’s his best friend, of course nothing’s wrong!), while fundy thinks he's a malicious poltergeist (with all the pranks.... that’s... that’s not tommy. tommy isn’t that spiteful... is he? )

[lutbys]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do something fluffly with Ronxreader with the prompts of the dialogue list “I never want to hear you say that again” and “you’re big and strong” please? (I loved your fic about the butterfly clips by the by💗) Faaaank you! xo

(Sorry if I’m asking for too much)

a/n: I wouldn't say this was as fluffy as I thought it would be??? because this was the first thing I could think of when I read the prompt and I couldn't get it out of my head HAHA. It's okay! I actually like it when people ask for more specifications/preciseness because then I know what yall really like and I can adapt to that :) Anyways, thank you! and I hope you like it!

O.W.L.S

Ron Weasley x Reader

“How did you memorize all that?” you exclaimed after listening to Hermione list down the instructions on how to brew the amortentia potion. 

“Once you understand why it's brewed the way it is, it’s a piece of cake.” The bright girl grinned proudly, flipping through her ever so thick notebook.

Your heart sank, you were nowhere near as ready as Hermione was and it's finally kicking in that the O.W.L.S are getting close. 

Since young, you’ve struggled with performance anxiety. However ready you were for a test, the results would never come out as good as you thought and you blamed yourself for it every time. I didn’t study hard enough, you’d say, if my mind would’ve stopped drifting during the exam I would’ve focused more on the question, you’d say. 

You’ve spent the last week in the library, the spot you’ve chosen had been vacated by you and you only so much so that at the end of the day, you didn’t bother packing up your things, knowing well enough you’d be the first to be back in the spot.

However, you pity your boyfriend for not being so social these past few days, having to brush off any late-night dates where you both would sneak up to the astronomy tower, or simply conversing in the great hall. You especially miss his eyes, those pretty eyes who would look at you in admiration and love, making you weak in the knees.

Ron understood though, he’s seen you struggle for the past few years and had been completely understanding to your mood swings regarding the exams. He was so supportive; offering to sneak out some food for you to eat in the library, running out to get more paper when he notices your on your last one, or even letting you use his dorm to study in so you both could be together. 

-

As the days go by, the closer O.W.L.S got, and you too were close to losing your sanity. You hadn’t gone to eat dinner at the great hall for what feels like forever, strictly lasting on whatever you had in your trunk from all those Hogsmeade visits you’ve wasted. You’ve also completely lost contact with your friends as the only trips you made now were from your bed to the library. 

As much as Ron wanted to be supportive, he knew what his girlfriend was doing was too much. These past couple of days, he couldn’t even catch sight of her as she is like a little mouse, so quick and quiet with her footsteps. And he was worried because all throughout breakfast, lunch, and dinner he hasn’t caught a glimpse of you yet and the thought of you starving yourself because of some stupid exam had his gut-wrenching. 

So, he took it upon himself to sneak into the kitchen and grab whatever he could before the elves noticed which consisted of three soup buns, a sandwich, and a suspiciously old-looking brownie. Not the best selection, but it was better than nothing.

He had already checked the library before-hand and seeing as your seat was unoccupied with no books laying around, he knew exactly where to go, by now it was all muscle memory.

He pushed the door to your room open with his free hand, the other, stacked high with food as he awaited for your face to appear with glee at the sight of him like you normally would. But what he did not expect was his love, crying in her pillows.

He dropped everything in his hands as fast as he could, frantically placing the food on your study table, and came to your side as fast as he could move. “What’s wrong? Baby? Please talk to me.” He cooed, gathering you in his arms, your body shaking beneath him as he cursed himself for not noticing earlier. Through the loud sobs and hiccups, he didn’t dare push you further when you didn’t answer. Instead, whispering sweet nothings into your ear in hopes of calming you down.

For a while, they both curl in together, with Ron’s hand stroking your hair ever so softly, like his love was a fragile porcelain doll.

-

“I must be really stupid to not even remember a simple subject like muggle studies, I’m the worst wizard in this school and I hate myself for thinking I could actually ace the owls.” 

It was late, 3am late, but that was how long it took for you to regain yourself, and you hated to bother your boyfriend, who was sleepier than ever but denied it whenever you ask.

But your comment had woken him up.

“Don’t you dare say that about yourself y/n! I never want to hear you speak of such things like that again, you’re big and strong and no one is as capable as you are.” He took this opportunity to properly look at you, bags hung heavily under your eyes and your cheeks were hollow- almost ghoul-like. He wiped a single tear that escaped your flushed face, a hue of pink coating your eyes, nose, and cheeks.

“Come here,” he whispered, pushing you closer to him, leaving no space between the two of you as you molded into one. It wasn’t often that the two of you would be so affectionate, but it is times like these when you are grateful to have someone by your side, especially someone like him.

[colour-outside-the-liness]

Hey, I'm doing good too. Just normal amounts of stressful stuff right now. Just moved to a country I've never been to before but can't complain, things are not as hard as the last time I did this so. Thanks for asking! Yeah, I saw you posting about some pretty scary health issues before, I'm glad you came out of that alive and hope you're healthier now!

The nerve some people have! Haha I know I would be pissed if people were questioning my intelligence like that especially after a couple of drinks in haha. Though I do like taunting people when I play group games, I'll be like "don't need to try that hard guys, you're gonna lose anyway" just to mess with them or just call people sore losers if they accuse me of cheating haha (they're probably right on the accusations tho). People get real mad sometimes it's kinda funny. 😂

Omg literally laughed out loud reading this! Hahaha, how did you manage to fall over a road sign then end up in a ditch? lol omg hope you didn't get hurt too bad 😂 I was trying to downplay my drunken escapades but since you shared yours I should tell you my worst one:

I was at this summer street party at night and got drunk on something made out of tropical herbs and cachaça (which is about 48% alcohol), drank 3 and a half bottles of that like it was apple juice, made friends with a bunch of strangers in a bathroom queue (who tried to talk to me weeks later but I had no idea who they were), had to be held by my best friend while I peed (mostly missing the toilet), fell in the middle of the street and scraped my knee, threatened this boy who was helping me walk and told him not to try anything funny or I would beat him up, then dragged my friends to the beach and left them shortly after to go make out with my ex, came back with lipstick all over my mouth and chin and when my friends asked what I was doing I said I was just talking to my ex and they were like NO YOU WERE NOT, hahaha then I kissed all my girl friends on a dare and we danced under the full moon, then I told my best friend I had to puke so she took me to the ocean but I changed my mind and happened to step on a dead turtle on the way back and started crying bc of it, but last month my best friend told me it was a rock I had stepped on (I believed it was a dead turtle for 7 years!). Had the worst hangover of my life the next day. ✌️✨

Ah I'm happy you liked it! I've never listened to Six musical before but it sounds fun! I can see why you like it haha made me want to dance around my apartment 💃. And hey if liking musicals is your thing then it's great, I'm sure Hozier will understand if he's not your top artist of the year. 😋 Here's my "damie" Pinterest board if you or anyone else wants to check it out, totally recommend making one if you're a visual person like me!

https://pin.it/UcHVlkq

Oh I could talk about Dani and Jamie forever I think. I love the beast in the jungle speech too and it's so painful to watch, VP delivered that beautifully, but I have to admit I'm always a crying mess from episode 1 when older Jamie starts reciting that song about being sad while waiting for her lover to return, this show is fucking cruel I hate it and love it at the same time hahaha. Omg your mom 😂 but I mean it's truly an honor to be compared to someone like Dani, no? She's really great even if she needs a little help haha (don't we all).

Aaah you're amazing! Thank you so much, I'll read this pirate AU soon!

I used to draw a lot, really loved doing it when I was a kid as I said before, and all throughout adulthood too but I haven't done that in almost a year now bc I've got a bit of a case of burnout I guess, it just takes a lot of effort to do it when it shouldn't be like that at all. I used to do fanart too, for other fandoms. Even made one for Dani x Jamie but ended up not liking how it turned out haha. I've got a lot of respect for writers and fanfic writers also! Yall can make words make sense in really interesting and beautiful ways, build worlds so enthralling I can see them vividly in my head. Writing is such an incredibly fascinating skill to have! And I guess the most important thing is that we enjoy doing these things right? Even if we think we're not particularly good at it.

Anyway, have a lovely weekend! 👋✨

Good I'm glad you're doing great but sorry you're dealing with stressful stuff!! Hope living in a new country goes well for you I'm so jealous that you've lived in different countries I'd love to live somewhere else even if just for s few years!! Awwh thank you so much I definitely came out of it alive and am feeling so much better now thank you I mean I do some pretty ditzy things so when people say it to me it's pretty deserved sometimes, I'm secretly smart and people just don't expect it so I never mind too much haha I might have to start saying the things that you do and just taunting them over it I mean, I usually do win even when they make me answer different questions so I will definitely have to start saying things like that to them Haha I love that you're just like "yeah they're probably right in their accusations" I agree seeing how mad some people get over games and stuff is funny (it's me I'm people I hate loosing games depending on what it is and I am very competitive) So it was very dark and all we had for light was my roommates flashlight on her phone but while we were walking home a friend of ours that lived else where kept texting her to make sure we were still safe (my phone as dead at this point) so while she was texting him her flashlight was facing down and someone had moved this road sign to the footpath and it was on that sits on the floor so while I couldn't see it I walked into it and fell over it but while I feel I grabbed hold of it and flipped with it and fell in a ditch with it on top of me... I was fine and was just laid laughing while my friend looked down at me and in the most northern accent ever just said "get up you dickhead." and helped me off of the floor and then asked if I was okay... and I was so it was all good!! Haha 😂 I love this drunken story that sounds like one hell of a night and is a roller coaster from start to finish!! I'm sorry you thought you had stood on a dead turtle for 7 years though, someone really should've told you that it was just a rock!! But that sounds like my kind of night!! I love nights like that... stories that will last a life time... the only down side is the hangover... luckily I have only ever had one hang over in my life and it wasn't the morning after the road sign fiasco... I felt surprisingly good the morning after that haha 😂 It's such a good musical it's about Henry VIII wives and I just love everything to do with his wives and that musical is so much fun and actually gives a little insight to the lives the six Tudor queens had away from Henry and with him because at school we're mainly just taught about him which sucks!! I loved the Hozier song and am definitely gonna have to listen to more of his stuff!! I love musicals so much I mainly listen to musical soundtracks at the minute- usually, Legally Blonde and Six on repeat haha 😂 Ooo thank you I will definitely check out this Pinterest board thanks for sending it to me!! I could talk about them forever too... since watching Bly Manor my niece has been asking me so many questions about it and I am more than happy to talk to her about it haha!! The beast in the jungle speech just breaks my heart every time I relate to it so much and VP just delivers it so beautifully!! Oh yeah now I know at the beginning that it's older Jamie I am just a wreck the whole show is just so beautiful and heart breaking at the same time I LOVE IT!! Even though it makes me sob- I keep putting myself through it!! I mean, yeah I was happy that she said it Dani is great but it was the way she said it... my mum can be something else sometimes... she said she thought Dani was like me the first time she does the accent when she says "I've fallen quite in love with London" because I just randomly do accents a lot too but it was the way she was like "She needs help... but I like her she reminds me of you" I was just like... "Should I go get help?" I still don't know the answer to my question about if I need help or not but I mean I probably do need it You're welcome I really hope you like it!! It's a

great fic I love it!! Yeah I get that if stuff starts taking too much effort and burns you out you're not gonna wanna keep doing it so it's understandable that you stopped!! I think fan art is great and I really would love to be able to do it myself but I just don't have the skill it takes!! Awwh it's a shame you didn't like the Dani x Jamie one you did I would've loved to have seen it!! Honestly there are so many talented writers out there and when I read their fics I am just in awe of the worlds they have built and the stories they have created we are so blessed in this fandom to have so many amazing writers and so many amazing fics out there Oh yeah definitely its important to enjoy what you do!! I know I love writing and love writing fics for Dani and Jamie so I think I'll be doing it for a while even if I'm not great at it haha Awwh thank you very much I hope you have a great weekend too!! ☺️

[iniquity-fr]

i said i would elaborate on my thoughts/lore i guess re: dragons n shapeshifted (humanoid) forms and like.. social rules and whatnot around all that.... and then i wrote a ridiculous amount of notes abt the whole thing, oops.

separated into key sections but still very rambly and stream-of-thought overall, bc, when do i not type..... weird. words are eternally difficult for me and thoughts are a struggle to articulate, but i hope any of this.. makes sense? obviously this is largely abt my own clan/dragons/headspace/etc and not like. headcanons about other ppl’s stuff in general or anything like that haha. this is a LOT to read thru so if u actually go thru the whole thing a) wow thank u so much wtf b) perhaps give it a like so i know how u feel. not required but very very appreciated. :^) also deep apology to anyone for whom the read more breaks or something, oh god.

a tl;dr/basic overview

everyone can shift to humanoid/gijinka/person-shaped forms, differing based on their actual look as a dragon

most day-to-day life within the clan is in shifted forms, partly bc of Convenience, partly bc there’s a lot of Social Rules abt being on relatively equal footing w/ one another and keeping things fair and whatnot

using your dragon form to hurt not-dragon form people or even using it to harm smaller dragons is considered a terrible crime, and harming others while they’re mid-transformation is considered the ultimate taboo.

shifting 101:

everybody can shift between dragon/humanoid (gijinka.. however u wanna word this.... yall know what i Mean) form w/ different results--some more dragon-looking and/or generally monstrous, some looking fairly normal/basically like People, But In Rainbow Colors And With Horns. some may keep tails and/or wings or other things like that, but that isn’t especially common

smaller breeds tend to be shorter, bigger breeds tend to be taller, but there are exceptions & outliers! 

shifted forms tend to be pretty 'set' for most dragons, all obviously dependent on their looks as an actual dragon. their shifted form reflects their dragon form, and they can't make drastic changes to their form like changing entire facial structure/shape or body type or overall coloring.  however, dragons with stronger magic abilities/connections/powers/etc usually tend to have more freedom of their own form and may be able to change certain features at will--not entire faces or body shapes, but things like hair, nails, sometimes even patterns from genes (esp. tert genes)

dragons that are like, deity level or otherwise some sort of not-entirely/not-actually-a-dragon all-powerful creature or w/e usually have MUCH more freedom to change their form completely, if they so choose.

transformation is at will (and cant be done or undone unconsciously... ie a sleeping-in-shifted-form person is Not gonna turn back into dragon form in their sleep) and happens fairly quick for most, usually no long&slow weird animorph-esque thing, though it isn't all in a flash either--usually! once again on the "dragons with More/Better Magic Skillz" concept, a very magic-powerful dragon can usually shift much quicker than others. a "finger snap puff of smoke boom you're done" level of speed is Very Rare, but not unheard of. dragons who are either very young or simply not very talented w/ magic may take longer than others. the largest & smallest breeds also take a bit longer due to having to shrink down/size up every time. all this said, it never takes more than like, 15-20 seconds at Most, and even that range is considered Very Slow. it’s a short window, generally!

things like injury or sickness can make shifting difficult, but typically only like........... basically if you're literally dying you're probably not gonna be able to do it. having a broken leg or the flu shouldn't impact ability much, but bleeding out in the boneyard? ain't gonna make it work, buddy.

idk how clothes work lmfao. they just shift with the dragon i guess? sure. let's go with that. all clothes are magic now. i don't think EVERYTHING through, ok?

ok cool but Why Shift:

shifted forms make for much easier living-together-in-a-big-clan, especially in situations (like my own clan itself) where everyone lives in, y'know, buildings. houses and castles and churches and whatnot. it takes a lot more effort and resources and whatnot to build a house big enough for imperials to comfortably live in in dragon form than it does to just build a regular-sized house that a spiral & a ridgeback both can settle into & live comfortably in in shifted form or smth, yknow. it’s easier to accommodate people than dragons! 

communication & relationships can also be easier to deal with if you are all Relatively Close to the same size range. less leaning down or flying up to try and talk to your friend/coworker/partner/rival/whatever. part of this is also influenced by The Rules About Being On An Even Playing Field We Will Get To In A Moment

for many dragons its just easier to do things like art, music, crafting, writing, or working w/ small & delicate things, etc etc when you have proper hands and lot funky dragon claws. much of the more mundane reasons for these forms is just For Convenience's Sake!

that said, obvs. certain things are easier/preferred to stay in dragon form to do--traveling, for one, since, y'know, Dragons Can Fly, Usually. hunting & gathering is usually done in dragon form as well, though not 100% of the time. maybe u want to be a big and powerful dragon to go take down wild animals for food but just like, chill out w ur buds in person-shape to go have a relaxing fishing trip by the lake. it's up 2 u really.

sometimes dragon forms are preferred for fighting in general, esp against beasts, or if you are a lone dragon trying to protect yourself from threats, etc. in the case of smaller breeds especially, they can also be preferred for making a quick escape instead! (sometimes this is seen as Cowardly to do, but yknow, it’s an Option.)

aaaaaaand now we can get to The Rules which is where things become less abt convenience & common sense and more about my own........... we can call it lore? i guess? sure. it's lore. ok.

The Rules:

all the "for convenience" reasons aside, there are many largely unspoken but VERY important social rules regarding shifting and when you "should" or "should not" be in which form. within my clan/characters/headspace/etc etc it's all just sort of a known thing/smth ur raised knowing, there isn't like, an actual rulebook or smth anyone has to figure out. 

much of these rules are about being on an equal playing field, both socially & in battle. the social rules are much more important & strict within clan living areas, ie. the walls of cities and whatnot. things can get more loose & informal if ur like, out travelling thru the wasteland or wilds or whatever.

it's considered VERY rude to enter/generally be inside buildings in dragon form, usually, unless you're just like... popping in real quick to deliver smth or say hi or whatever.. and you can fit inside said building... and know the ppl there and whatnot... etc...... if you dragon out while already inside somewhere that's usually seen as like, a threat of some sort. due to how much construction & architecture & living spaces are shaped and whatnot, it's deemed unnecessary to bother with dragon forms inside the clan's walls in general, but especially within buildings, bc jesus christ dude ur gonna hit the ceiling or break stuff with your wings or something. be polite.

social interaction in general, esp. when Formal or in work/work-like settings, is seen as something usually meant more for shifted forms... some dragons who are very close, ie family & mates, can be fine in dragon form around each other, bc of the mix of informality & Trust. typically, if you want to have a conversation with someone and Not be seen as impolite or even hostile, shifted form is key. this falls back very much to the fact that dragons come in such VASTLY different sizes, from imps down to faes, and it's seen as unfair and often threatening to present oneself as a giant monster to whom others have to talk to, or as a tiny little creature either down on the floor or flitting around the room. shifted forms have about as much height/size variance as we do as humans, which can be A Lot, and some individuals can be even smaller or bigger than regular people bc Hey Its Fantasy, but generally speaking no People-Shaped height difference is going to be as crazy as dragons' can be.

basically, if you walk into the throne room or the church or anywhere Important & Protected and you're not in shifted form, you WILL be seen as either physically threatening the leadership or as an extremely arrogant & disrespectful fool. walking into shops/businesses in general as a dragon makes you look like you're trying to like, rob the place or smth. even just moving about the streets of the town as a dragon is weird, rude, and will make people uneasy. not to mention it’s potentially destructive!

everything comes back to the idea of being relatively similar in size/shape, in being close enough to equal in ability, strength, weakness, etc, barring the obvious difference that yes some people are stronger/more trained than others, some better at magic, etc etc. it's all about fairness!

this is all MOST IMPORTANT when it comes to FIGHTING........ bc obviously a very large dragon can just squish the bones of a very tiny dragon like nothing...... things like formal duels etc everyone knows OF COURSE this meant for shifted form, it's just an inherently known thing. if u fight with honor u fight shifted.

this even extends to the point that outside city walls, if someone's going to pick a fight with you, you Should still be duking it out in shifted form. it's such an important & revered rule that it's even usual for bandits and such out on the roads to attack travelers while in their own shifted forms. only the worst of all criminals cross the line--from the average petty thief & pickpocket up to professional hitmen and honorable assassins, it's rare to see even career rulebreakers break these rules. it’s That Serious

using your dragon form to attack someone who's shifted is seen as like, a completely horrifying and heinous thing to do, a sign of true cruelty and mercilessness. using your dragon form to escape from people is often seen as a cowardly and weak thing to do, unless ofc ur just like, small and afraid and get fuckin jumped by some big tuff dudes, yknow. being in a real & honorable battle means fighting in your shifted form.

the Ultimate Taboo however is hurting--especially killing--someone while they're mid-transformation, due to the fact that the process--while, as stated previously, is Very Short--leaves someone completely vulnerable and unable to defend themselves. transformation takes focus and action, and you can't really attack or dodge or anything while changing from form to form. the strength and speed and complete lack of hesitation required to end someone's life in the small window of time that it takes to shift is a terrifying thing to behold. killing someone midshift while in your own shifted form is especially weird & scary and means everyone is going to be afraid of you forever, basically, because. dude. holy fuck. how & WHY did you do that.

obviously the Normal reaction that Nice & Good dragons feel knowing someone who has crossed that particular line is, yknow, fear and resentment and seeing them as someone who is heartless and completely evil and terrible. to be avoided at all costs, if not outright arrested and executed for such a thing, in other places where ppl are like. ultimately good & caring abt one another and whatnot. but that ain't my clan babey!

aaaaaand finally a wrap-up w a lil bit abt my clan full of shitty devil babies and how these rules impact their lives hehehe

though the clan is VERY strict abt the larger social rules regarding shifted forms vs. dragon forms, thats more for formality's sake & a part of the clan's entire thing of being like........... full of/ruled by morally bankrupt weirdos and villains and chaotic neutrals mostly And Yet all putting on the show & appearance of being honorable high-status nobles & academics and whatnot. among the court in particular it's all Very Important bc everyone has to behave like stuffy uptight formal folk very often. also their section of the clan home is like, a very compact city w/ narrow streets and stuff, so obviously no one Can just. walk around as a big giant dragon.

a few examples of dragons Breaking The Rules in more 'minor' ways include: -outlaw, who has absolutely 0 issue using the small size of his spiral form to break into houses & businesses and steal shit, or using it to slip away from authority figures and zip off and fly outta there. or to just be able to hide from authorities more easily. -fissure, one of the kings, a guardian, will occasionally use his dragon form as a threat display if anyone shows too much hostility towards his clan. threaten him and his people and he WILL threaten you back big time. -silhouette, royal guard captain, also a guardian, will do the same thing, though she reserves that for people found along the outskirts of the city walls. -sepulcher takes things the other way around--he enjoys the challenge of fighting&killing things 100x his size and if a dragon tries to harm him when he's in his shifted form he gets VERY excited!!!!!

the 2 worst culprits confirmed so far are the high priest, leader of the clan, scary rotten plague cult wyrmwound-worshipping bastard himself, fhtagn......... and the friendly, chatty, fashionable tailor, needle.

the skull mask fhtagn wears is fashioned from the skull of a half-transformed dragon. to have not only crossed the line of killing a dragon mid-shift but to wear a part of them as one's most striking attire that they're never seen without is a truly terrifying sight to behold for most... those of kinder hearts than this clan would see him for the disgusting & dishonorable bastard he is because of that alone, but the clan members--especially the church, of course--revere him for this. fear & horror go hand in hand with love & adoration among the congregation, so of course they love their mercilessly masked priest.

needle does not allow too many people to get a good look at his "trophy room" but it is... certainly something to behold. stitched & stuffed bodies of people killed mid-shift make up his favorite taxidermy collection, and he likes to think of this as.. some form of art. though very private about it, he's still fiercely proud of his collection. go out and bring him such a body yourself for him to work on and he'll love you forever!

anyway that’s it for now. this post is fucking long. i never write this much what fucking possessed me.

if u made it this far i wuv u. thank u :’)

[apartments4rent]

The Letter

so i had a twitter poll back in february to write a “fic” for valentines day starring a pair that yall got to choose!! and lucwill won!!! so here it is haha it got kinda long, i hope u guys like it :^)

Lucas had a quiet life.

Keyword: Had.

He used to go to bed at 6am every day, wake up at about 6pm, head to work at 10pm, and come back in time go back to sleep. To some, this sounds pretty boring; and to be honest, sometimes it was. But Lucas liked it that way, it was routine. Familiar.

Now. Now, things were much different.

Ever since that scruffy-looking, hot headed, motorcycling kid came into his life.

They met in the mini mart.

Lucas was used to seeing a lot of strangers. He worked at the only gas station near the highway for miles. They would come in, usually use the bathroom, buy their stuff, and leave. There were a few regulars from in town that Luc would see; only a couple of night owls here and there.

One chilly November night, he came in. A cute kid - couldn't be older than 20; shaggy, dirty blonde hair and freckles. He grabbed a chocolate protein shake and three bags of almonds, then promptly left after asking for the time: half past eleven.

Luc was intrigued, but thought nothing more of it. After all, Luc was used to meeting strangers all the time.

But he came in again the next night. Same thing: a chocolate protein shake and three bags of almonds.

“D’ya have the time?”

Then, gone.

Again and again, night after night.

Till one day, he didn't show up at all. A couple nights passed with no sign of the handsome stranger and Luc figured that was all they would be seeing of each other. But, after the fourth night, Freckles came in again, as usual, as if nothing happened.

And this became their routine; almost every night, they would see each other, until they wouldn't, again and again.

After too long, Luc needed to know just what was going on.  

He didn’t know this would lead to opening up his home to the kid. It's not like you know him that well, he laid awake that night, thinking, how could you be so stupid, there's no way this is gonna end well.

Lucas always was the worst worry wart.

Turns out, things would go wrong, but not in the was he was anticipating.

No, it was much, much worse.

Things were still quiet in the beginning, it was awkward for them both; two virtual strangers, now living under one roof. They mostly kept to themselves, each not wanting to bother the other.

Then they started to open up to each other, started to learn new things about each other. They found out they had such good chemistry and a lot in common, too.

Soon they became almost inseparable. Will would make Luc get out more, actually explore things around the neighborhood; “You've been in this town for six years and you never once been to the boardwalk amusement park?” Luc would show Will all the things he loved doing indoors, introducing him to new tv shows, movies and videogames; “What do you mean you've never even heard of Majora’s Mask? It’s a classic!”

When they first met, Lucas knew he felt some type of way about Will; some way that interested, if not frustrated, him. Getting to know Will; the real Will, his flaws, his hopes, his dreams; it made Lucas realize exactly what that way really was.

And it terrified him.

A crush.

Lucas had a crush on Will.

As a few months passed, Lucas hoped the feelings would wither; if he pushed past them long enough, they'd go away, right?

Alas, it was not the case. Surprisingly, spending more time with someone who has your heart in the palm of their hand will not make you like them any less. Who knew.

“Sounds like you've got it baaaaad,” Ollie, ever the realist, was doing their best to comfort Luc in these trying times.

Luc let out a groan of agony and forcefully rested his head on Amber’s dinner table, “I don't know what to do, man. This is really getting out of hand.”

“Why don't you tell Will? Y’know, since it kinda concerns him too?”

This snapped Luc back upright in his seat, “Excuse me? Are you nuts? I can't just… tell him!” Luc was baffled at the thought, almost speechless. “We’re…” Luc searched for the right word, and couldn’t come up with anything better than, “We’re bros. And roommates! It would only make things... weird. Plus, Will isn't the best when it comes to romantic advances.”

Ollie blinked and furrowed their brow.

Luc sighed, “He's dense. And just plain uninterested in romance. Which is understandable, seeing how utterly bad this feels right now…” Another groan and he was back on the table, face buried in his arms.

After a moment of silence, Amber, who’s apartment the two were borrowing for this impromptu therapy session, returned from running a few errands.

“Hey, Amber,” Lucas said, muffled through his arms and the table.

“Oh,” she said, “Lucas, how lovely of you to stop by. What’s got you resting on my table like that?”

Just as Lucas was about to excuse himself from her apartment, not ready to share the truth behind this visit, Ollie blurted out, “Lucas finally admitted he has a crush on Will.”

“Ollie!” Luc shot out of his seat. He was beyond offended that Ollie would betray his trust so easily.

Amber seemed to ignore Luc’s protest, “Oh, that's beautiful Luc! You two make a lovely couple.” She sighed dreamily, “It's been so long since I've seen sweet love blossom!”

“Ew,” Ollie said.

“Please don't say things like that,” Luc crossed his arms, “this isn't a good thing. These feelings need to stop.”

“What? Why?”

Luc groaned again and turned away from Amber, “You don't understand, it's not simple ‘sweet love,’” he collapsed onto her couch, “it's complicated.”

Amber paused for a moment, thinking. She walked over to the couch and sat down next to Lucas. “Sweet love is rarely so simple.” She stroked his hair reassuringly, “Wanna tell me about it?”

Lucas hated to admit it but, if anyone would be able to help him out, it'd be Amber. He sat up, ready to tell her everything. And it was everything. He didn't know what it was about her that made him spill his guts; maybe it was the physical contact or maybe it was the Trustworthy Mom Voice.

Whatever it was, after about 30 minutes she was all caught up, and then some.

A long thoughtful pause after a solemn nod made Luc a bit worried.

“Want some tea?” Amber offered.

Tea did sound good right about now. Luc nodded, surprisingly exhausted after pouring out his heart twice in one day.

She got up and hurried into her kitchen. Opal, Amber’s cat, rubbed up against Luc and looked up at him. Luc smiled. The cat hopped up and curled into his lap. They say stroking a cat has its health benefits. Luc wondered if it included mental health.

Amber returned with two warm mugs of tea, “You wanna know what I think?” she continued without waiting for an answer, “I think you should tell him.”

Luc’s heart sunk. He could think of a million and one reasons why that was a horrible idea. How could she think that was a good solution?

“Now, now,” Amber could read the betrayal all over his face, “Let me finish.” She sat down.“I think you should tell him, but I understand the trepidation. ‘You could ruin what you already have,’ I get it, it's all too much. But you need to let this go somehow and a confession is the most effective way to do so,” she paused, expectantly.

A lot of things were going through his mind but absolutely none of them made sense. Amber hung her head in exasperation, as if it was his fault he couldn't read her mind.

“Write him a letter!” she said, as if it were obvious.

Luc cocked his head.

“Confess to him in a letter, address it to him, just don't give it to him! You know how helpful it is to write your feelings; you will definitely feel better after writing a love letter,” she said so matter-of-factly.

“Sounds kinda dumb,” Ollie voiced Luc’s opinion from across the room.

Amber scowled, “I wouldn't expect you to understand.” She turned to Luc with a hopeful look, “At least try it? You never know what might happen.”

Her smile was so warm and genuine, Luc almost felt better about the whole situation.

Almost.

Luc left the apartment feeling better, but only marginally. He slowly shuffled to his apartment, only feeling more confused than before. So many things were still swimming in his mind.

I guess writing them down couldn't hurt…

When he got to his apartment, he opened up his laptop and stared at the blank word document for what seemed an eternity.

Maybe I should do it freehand?

He shoved his computer off his lap went to hunt for one of his many notebooks.

Dear Will…

He chewed the cap of his pen. What was he supposed to say? “Hey bro, I think I love you?”  That was way too heavy handed, and he didn't even know if that was true.

It was gonna be long night.

Luc decided, since Will wasn't going to read this anyway, he could say whatever he wanted. Once he got past that barrier, it was actually a lot easier to write. No inhibitions, not holds barred, just his feelings and the paper.

It was a stream of consciousness of sorts; he just wrote what he was thinking, even if it didn't make sense.

And he did feel better. A lot better.

He quickly scanned over the whole two pages, front and back.

Wow, I've got a lot of issues.

He ripped the papers out of the notebook and folded them up. He wasn't really sure he had an envelope in his house.

I'll just hide it somewhere, it'll be fine.

Indeed it had been a long night and, luckily, he wasn't scheduled to work either. Absolutely exhausted, Luc decided to crash early and quickly drifted off to sleep.

The letter helped Lucas organize and understand his feelings but, as months passed, those feelings all but faded. One could argue they only grew stronger.

Valentine's Day was right around the corner and it got him thinking about some… things.

One particularly chilly night, on a whim, Luc Googled, “how to confess to your best friend”. For absolutely no reason at all. He went through almost every article on the first page of results. He almost went to the second page but no, he wasn't that desperate.

The thought of confessing still wracked him to his core, but the thought of living his whole life keeping these feelings in agonized him even more.

I’m going to to do it, he decided.

I'm gonna tell him.

“You're really gonna do it?” Ollie sounded particularly enthused by the idea.

“Yeah, I am,” I hope.

“Oh, Luc, I'm so proud of you,” Amber was beaming. “I guarantee you’ll only feel better after you do.”

Luc wasn’t sure he actually believed that, but it’s what he kept telling himself.

“The only problem is… how should I do it?”

“On Valentine's Day, of course!”

“Yeah, but… how?”

“Hold up a boombox playing his favorite song outside his room window,” Ollie suggested.

“I don’t have a boombox,” Luc laughed, ”and I don’t think it’ll have the same effect if I use a Bluetooth speaker.”

“Meet him at the airport and confess just before his plane leaves.”

“What? Why is he at an airport? Where’s he going?”

“Oh! A confession in the rain is always romantic! Everything’s all wet...”

“Don’t listen to them, they’ve been watching too many romcoms with Opal,” Amber said, “You could send a bouquet of flowers with chocolates and a sweet note.”

“That’s too- wait,” Luc interrupted, “Note…”

Amber seemed to get the idea at the same time. “The letter,” They said in unison.

“Thanks for the support, guys!” Luc was out of that apartment faster than you could say, “Lucas and Will, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

He had put the letter in the safest place he could think of in his room. Someone would have to be VERY lucky to find it. Shoved between two random books in his bookshelf, it took even Luc a good while to find it.

Reading over the letter, in its entirety, surprised Luc. I wrote this? It was so honest and so deep, this came from my mind?

No, this won't work, he decided, this is way too much to lay on Will all at once. Plus, it barely makes sense, even to me.

He felt the room’s temperature drop.

“What’cha doin’?” Ollie said in an oddly sing-song voice.

“I'm going to rewrite the letter,” Luc said, looking for another piece of paper.

“Why? I thought it was pretty good…”

“You what?”

“I liked it?”

“You read it!?”

“Yeah…”

“What!? But I- How? Wh-” Luc groaned and pulled at his face.

Why am I even surprised, at this point?

“Ok, Ollie,” Luc took a deep breath, “Please don't read my personal writings from now on, okay?”

Ollie crossed their arms, “Alright…”

“Now, could you please leave? I don’t want you breathing over my shoulder while I rewrite this private letter.”

“Fine…”

Lucas turned away from the ghost and the room’s temperature went back to normal.

Oh, boy. Here we go.

It took quite a few tries to get it right; several crumpled up pieces of paper lay strewn about his room. He managed to get everything on only one piece of paper, now that he knew exactly what he wanted to say.

Luc scavenged for a proper envelope and slipped it in, putting it back between a couple of books along with the original letter. Maybe he’d want to look back at it one day and laugh.

Now we wait.

With only about a week until Valentine's Day, Luc had plenty of time to worry about whether this really was a good idea or not. Several times he contemplated throwing out the letter; if he gave up, there would be no chance of it going terribly wrong.

No, you have to. You can't keep ignoring your feelings. You have to do something about it!

So the letter survived till Valentine's Day, a Tuesday. Will was working at the garage till the late afternoon.

All day Luc hyped himself up and contemplated all the good things that could come out of this experience while simultaneously pushing away all that bad things he would think of.

Will would be home any minute. It was time to put the letter on his bed. Luc walked right into the room; Will hardly left his door closed anymore.

Oh God, here we go. He could feel his palms get sweaty; they were almost shaking, too. He gently put the letter on the pillow, as if an alarm would go off if he made too much noise.

Deep breath.

He couldn't get out of that room fast enough.

Minutes passed, though it felt like hours. Luc was starting to get worried; he was pacing in his bedroom and Will still hadn’t gotten home. Was he always this late? Luc could have sworn he had always come in just before 3:30pm and it was already 3:50pm.

Just then, he heard the gentle click of the door unlocking. Lucas emerged from his doorway to greet his roommate.

“Hey,” Luc said softly.

Will whipped around to look at Luc, “Oh, hey! You're awake?”

“Couldn't sleep,” he shrugged. This whole ordeal kept him up all morning. “How was work?”

Will gave a sympathetic smile then rolled his eyes, remembering his day in the garage, “Oh my god, you wouldn't believe the morning I've had.”

Luc laughed to himself and followed Will as he made his way around the apartment, venting about his day and going about his afternoon ritual. Luc got more nervous every time Will got close to his room; he did a number of fakeouts before he finally went in. He was still really into what he was talking about, so he didn't immediately notice the letter.

Wait, thought Luc, what am I gonna do when he finds the letter? Oh my god, why didn't I think of that? I can't just stand there while he reads it; that would be so embarrassing. Oh god, oh, oh n-

“What's this?” Will held up the letter.

Shit.

Luc didn't know what else to do, so he ran.

Ran to the only place he knew he could go. “Lucas?” Amber opened the door after an urgent barrage of knocks. “Aren't you supposed to be with Will?”

“I panicked!”

“You gave him the letter, right?” She opened the door wider to let him in.

“Yeah, he has it, I just didn't know what to do after that… I panicked! So I came here.”

“Now Lucas, how are you supposed to see his reaction to your beautiful, heartfelt words if you’re not down there with him?”

“Oh! He can use your crystal ball!” Ollie appeared suddenly, surprising both.

Amber scowled at the ghost.

“You have a crystal ball? For real?” Luc almost lit up at the idea.

Amber sighed, “I wouldn't call it that but yes.”

“You gotta let me spy on Will.”

Amber bit her lip, clearly uncomfortable do the idea, “Well…”

“Come on,” Luc was exasperated and desperate, “What else do you use it for, if not to spy?”

Amber huffed, “Fine! I don't condone this ridiculousness, but fine.” She went to go get the crystal ball from a very secret place-

“Underneath the sink? Why would you keep it there?”

She just shushed him and placed what looked to be a simple hat box on the coffee table. The three sat on the couch and gathered around as she pulled a dazzling crystal ball out of the box. Amber whispered some stuff under her breath and closed her eyes as a faint image of Will reading the letter on his bed started to appear.

“Oh my god, it's working!” Luc started to hop up and down on the couch, then moved in closer for a better look.

Will was just sitting there, reading the letter very intently. He was looking all over the paper, even going back and forth between the pages.

Pages.

Lucas cocked his head to the side.

“Is that… two sheets of paper?”

The other two moved in closer, too.

“Oh my god.” Luc whispered, eyes very wide.

“What's the problem?” Amber asked, looking between the crystal and Luc.

“Oh my god,” he said again, standing up.

“Lucas.”

“That's the letter.”

“Luc?”

“The first letter I wrote! The original? I rewrote it because it didn't make sense, it was too rambly, it was so… so much!”

He started to pace, thinking, biting his already short nails.

“Lucas, it's okay.” This was not going to end well.

“I rewrote it, I am sure I did! It was only one page, I know it was. How could it have- I wouldn't have- Oh, god. He's gonna laugh.” Luc couldn’t keep it in; it was like word vomit. Everything was just coming out again and he was powerless to stop it.

“Now, Luc, please listen,” Amber wanted desperately to soothe Luc’s nerves but she knew it would be futile; nothing she could say would help. Luc’s nightmare scenario came true and there was no bringing this boy back from that reality.

“No, worse! He's gonna tell everyone about it and get the whole town to laugh. He'll leave town and tell his home town friends about his dorky, desperate roommate that was madly in love with him. God, I'm such a joke.”

“Luc…” Amber’s heart was breaking for the poor kid; he was reacting so badly to this turn of events. She could relate. Sometimes screw-ups like this really did feel like the end of the world.

“I can never show my face around him again. Maybe I should leave town.”

“Alright, Luc!” Amber grabbed her panicking house guest by the shoulders, holding him squarely in place, “That’s enough. Lucas, you have to think clearly. You know none of that is true. None of it. Will isn’t like that, he would never,” she sighed and gave him a hug. “You can go lay down in my room, ok? Clear your head.”

So Lucas did just that. In fact, he may have even took a nap - he had been up for almost 20 hours already.

After a little less than two hours, Amber came in to check on him.

“How’re you feeling, dear?”

Luc’s moan was muffled by a pillow.

Amber sighed and sat down on her bed. “You should give him a chance.”

He curled into himself more.

“Really, you should.” She paused, clearly withholding information. “You know you left you phone out in the living room?” She held out his phone so he could clearly read it.

5 missed calls.

3 texts.

Hey where are u

Hello?

Meet me in the garden before 6 pls

Luc sat up in bed and clutched his phone, reading the messages over and over. He looked up at Amber, worry written all over his face.

She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. “It's almost six.”

Lucas didn't want to go.

But his feet were taking him downstairs already.

Every fiber in Lucas’s being was telling him this was a bad idea, that this was bound to end poorly.

But he kept going.

He stood in front of the doors that led to the garden for hours, days even, or maybe it was only a few seconds.

Deep breath.

When you count to 10, you'll open this door.

He closed his eyes.

With a hand on the door handle ready to turn, a sudden force pushed to door open seemingly out of nowhere.

“Lucas,” a surprised yet relieved voice said, a voice that Luc never got tired of hearing. The way that voice said his name made almost every fear and anxiety melted away.

“Will,” Luc had to force the words out of his mouth; he felt breathless.

They spoke at the same time.

“I was beginning to worry you weren't gonna-”

“I'm really sorry I didn't come sooner, things just-”

They laughed.

“We can,” Luc gestured,  “go back outside, if you want…”

Will smiled.

Amber laughed, all alone in her bedroom. Lucas had left so fast, it was hard to believe he was moping in here just a few minutes ago. He was worrying so much about what he thought would happen, he couldn’t let himself think about what actually would happen.

Or what did happen to bring them to this point.

Amber sighed.

Ollie.

She stepped out of her room to see the guilty spirit, still looking into the crystal ball.

She cleared her throat and put her hands on her hips, “Well?”

Ollie sunk further into the crystal ball, clearly invested in what they were looking at and not at all trying to avoid the gaze of the angry witch standing above them.

“Ollie, I know you were they one who switched Lucas’s letter.”

“You have no proof!” The ghost sat up defensively.

“Oh, come on, who else could it have been? No one but Lucas had any reason to be in his room, let alone know where those letters were.” Ollie was about to defend themself but Amber didn't let them, “Hold on, hmm… who do I know that can access any room in this building that they so please?”

“Listen, sister. He made it so easy! He didn't even seal the envelope the letter was in! How could I resist?”

“Ollie, we've been over this. You can't meddle in other people's business. It's rude! And contrary to your belief, you don't always know what's best for everyone.”

“Come on,” Ollie gestured to the crystal ball, still focused on Will, who was now talking to Luc in the garden, “look at how well this turned out.”

Amber sighed. Anyone could see that this was exactly what Luc needed - a push out of his comfort zone.

“That might be true, but my point still stands. You really freaked him out. I'm 89% sure he was having a panic attack.”

Ollie knew she was being serious but they couldn't help laughing a little. Luc was really freaked out.

“It's not funny, Ollie. He was really heartbroken.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Ollie.”

Amber’s voice reached a tone Ollie always hated hearing.

“Alright, I get it,” they got up from the couch, “I won't do it again. Jeez.”

“Ollie, please. I know you haven't been alive in a long time, so you may have forgotten what it's like to have feelings, but you have to be more sensitive to how you actions can hurt others.”

“Ouch,” they placed a hand over their chest, “I'm pretty sure you just hurt my feelings.”

Amber sighed a deep sigh. It was going to take a while to get through to this one, she could feel it.

“Hey, look what's going on in the garden!”

“So what I guess I’m trying to say is…” Will looked especially nervous, which was surprising as he had gone through this whole conversation pretty smoothly otherwise, “Marv gave me this extra ticket to, uh, the Valentine's boardwalk fair? Did’ya wanna go with me?”

Lucas’s head was running a mile a minute at that moment. After all, he had just heard that his roommate, and crush, had been harboring the same sort of feelings for him. For almost as long as he did!

Will said he didn't know what to make of those feeling because he had never really given much thought to anything related to romance ever, so he just brushed them aside. But, because of Luc's silly little love letter, Will knew he wasn't alone; that these feeling were real and valid, that he didn’t need to hide them anymore, that they could figure things out together.

And now, they were going out.

On a date.

With each other.  

Before Luc knew what he was doing, before he could stop himself, he tackled Will in the tightest hug. The force of the hug made Will spin with the momentum to avoid toppling over.

It was a warm hug; a good hug, a hug with promise.

It was the beginning of something beautiful.

Will pulled out of the hug and grasped Luc's hand tightly. He pulled Luc forward and started running towards the beach boardwalk.

They were both still very unsure about what hey had just done, but didn’t regret a single thing. Because, as long as they had each other, they knew they were gonna be alright.