#am I mildly embarrassed to post this on my own blog? absolutely. but I'm doing it anyway because my Errol brainrot has no limit

[hollow-prey]

yes I'm ace and sex-averse irl, and this is definitely not what I usually write about or my usual realm of comfort, but I've been itching to do some indulgent/vaguely experimental creative writing, and we're feeling a little...sensual today~

I think Errol would be a lot of fun to mess around with because I KNOW he's just a pathetic wreck waiting to happen and would be putty in Cyr's hands within 2 minutes of getting turned on. He talks a big game and acts like his usual cocky self, probably leaning into the smolder and making occasional suggestive remarks just to see how Cyr reacts, but he cracks pretty quickly once Cyr turns the tables and starts teasing him back. Such simple things as shifting closer and draping her legs over his lap, or lightly tracing his jaw, brushing her fingers along his body from one spot to another, murmuring things that seem so innocent and yet it's so clear that she's toying with him, immediately throw Errol off his game and leave him scrambling to regroup as Cyr continues to fluster him. Some part of him tries to maintain his dignity and uphold his confident, arrogant front, but it does not take long before he breaks and is nearly begging Cyr to stop dragging this out and do something.

Of course, he's not so caught up in the moment that he's going to let Cyr do all the work; because she gets to him so easily and does so much for him and he loves her so, so much, he's eager (and possibly even desperate) to prove himself and repay the favor however he can. Errol loves every little thing about Cyr, so her touch and affection combined with how beautiful he finds her really just makes him a little bit insane. In a good way. Especially when things get a bit heated. The man is being held together with duct tape and Precursor magic and he loses all sense of rhythm or stability with Cyr, all Errol knows is that he wants to make her happy and make everything worth her trouble. And yet Cyr's sincere, loving praise and whispered "I love you"s are some of the sweetest things he's ever heard, tapping into a deep-buried desire to be validated and wanted and loved that Errol didn't even know existed. Errol can't even fathom how fortunate he is to have someone like Cyr; no one else has ever had this effect on him, he's never felt so strongly for anyone else before, and no matter where they start, it ultimately doesn't take much to make Errol unravel

yes, I know this kinda came out of nowhere and it's a bit ooc for the blog, but. it's such a guilty pleasure to entertain. And while yes, this whole post was exceptionally suggestive, that doesn't mean that those are the only moments in their relationship where these emotions come into play; it can and does crop up in moments where they're just being soft and sincere and gentle with each other, no sultry undertones required. Basically I just love thinking of Errol as a pathetic (affectionate) mess when he and Cyr are alone sometimes, absolutely high on his love for Cyr and the things she does to him 💕

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

In the last few days, I've made two long and rambling posts about Cowgate, a short incident from 2003 that haunts my nightmares. I think people should know that when I make posts like that - the ones that go way too long about something entirely niche - I am operating under the assumption that absolutely no one is reading this bullshit. Even the small handful of people who read this blog regularly, I assume you skip over those ones.

That's not just a hypothetical assumption, I make writing choices accordingly. I assume the only purpose of this post is to give me somewhere to put the hauntings besides my nightmares, and therefore, it doesn't matter if it's readable. I know that my whole blog is full of errors, but on posts like that, I get especially lax with things like editing. I go really deep on things where on a different post, I might think - okay, that's far enough. Because no one is reading this.

I have now been proven wrong several times about those couple of posts, which both mildly embarrasses and delights me. First of all, I got this great comment from @beastlyanachronism, which is now how I love to picture myself:

Then, the wonderful @lastweeksshirttonight proved that they'd read not only the posts but the comment, by immediately messaging me a corresponding picture. I replied that I love the image, I will definitely start my post with that image the next time a new Cowgate-based detail is found and I need to write about it. I didn't expect that to be soon, though. Breakthroughs are few and far between.

But then, I got another message, proving that at least three different people have read my post (actually four, if you count the very kind British man who read my post and then sent me a message to explain the nuances in the expression "bottle it"). And that last message is the reason for this post. Because, I can't believe I've been given cause to use this image so soon:

Further content behind the cut, because not everyone needs this content all over their feed.

This relates to the message I got last night, from the extremely helpful @linkeightvideo, who not only read my posts, but joined the cause and did his own research. And came up with this link:

The Metro cow is a thing!!! I knew the wording of that YouTube comment was weird (calling it "the Metro cow", rather than something like "a cow that said Metro on it"), suggesting that this was a specific and recognizable instillation. And I was right! But I cannot take credit for figuring that out, all credit goes to @linkeightvideo, who is the best.

The above link is to an archived version of an article from August 5, 2003, about three weeks before Cowgate occurred (which was August 26, 2003 - fun fact that has absolutely nothing to do with anything because to the best of my knowledge he wasn't there or anything, but that was also Nish Kumar's eighteenth birthday). The article is from the Edinburgh Fringe website. It's short enough so I'm just going to paste its text in full:

The Fringe was hit by a bunch of cotton-pickin', rootin-tootin' cattle ruslers in the early hours of Saturday night. The almost life-sized, bright blue and red Metro bull was stolen from outside the Metro Fringe Box Office. Metro newspapers are appealing for its safe return before the police are called and urge anyone with information to come forward. Metro Fringe Box Office Manager, Gillian O'Connor said: "We're distraught to have lost such a valuable member of the Box Office team! Please bring him back." The bull had just completed a secondment outside London's Victoria station, where he stood unmoved for a month. Yet after only a few days on duty with the Fringe he has gone missing leaving today's Festival Cavalcade a bull short of a procession.

That's it!!! That's the one! It was blue and red! I know it was blue and red, because Adam hills shouted "it's got red horns, it's all the rage". And it was almost life sized! And it said Metro on the side! Further research - also done by @linkeightvideo, he deserves all the credit in the world for this - finds that Metro sponsored the Edinburgh Fringe Festival that year, and also directly sponsored the Gilded Balloon venue.

So, the company called Metro had a large cow that was used in advertisements, and for one month in the summer of 2003, it was in London, outside Victoria Station. Then it was brought to Edinburgh, because they were sponsoring the festival and running a box office. They put it outside that box office, and it got stolen within "a few days" (which makes sense, as August 5th is a few days into the festival). It was meant to be part of the Festival Cavalcade, but couldn't be due to thieves.

Then, three weeks later, it spends all night on stage during a late-night comedy show in an Edinburgh venue that Metro sponsors, where it gets taken apart. How do we get from one state of affairs to the other? I don't know, but I'm a hell of a lot closer to understanding than I was yesterday. If the cow was somehow recovered, it would make sense from them to move it indoors, where it can be guarded better (again, credit for this idea goes to @linkeightvideo, and I think it makes sense). I mean, it can be guarded from drunk thieves in the middle of the night. Apparently the stage of the Gilded Balloon is not a good place to guard it from (shockingly) sober comedians in the middle of the night.

This made me try searching again for the specific words "Metro cow", and I found this article from December 12, 2003. It's a list of people who are involved with whatever organization this is, I'm not really clear on that. But it includes this one guy named Stephen Auckland. He's from the North of England, and as of when this was written, he was listened as the managing director of Metro. The bottom of his profile says:

An able sidekick to Associated Newspaper's Mike Anderson, even when it came to keeping up appearances following the disappearance of Mootro, Metro's cow mascot, from the Edinburgh festival. Auckland offered to dress up as a pantomime version. Luckily, they found the cow.

Guys! Guys! It has a fucking name! The Cowgate cow has a name! It's named Mootro! Now that I think about it, I actually can't believe I've never named the thing, given that I named the event (Cowgate), and giving the cow a name is the sort of thing I'd do. But I don't have to, because apparently it's named Mootro.

And the story has an update. It was stolen by August 5, and then it was found at some unknown point, and by August 26 it was in the Gilded Balloon. And then it got taken apart on stage.

I think this brings up one obvious question, which is: if this thing was important enough for its theft to be reported on the Edinburgh Fringe website, how come they were allowed to destroy it? The obvious answer would be that it was specifically made for just that one Edinburgh Festival, and was meant to be destroyed at the end of it anyway. But why did it spend a month in London right before that, then? And why would they do that anyway? Surely it's not efficient to make something like that for only a month, you'd think they'd plan to have it last a while and move it around based on where they're sponsoring things.

I can't believe this. This is the biggest revelation since I figured out who the fuck Karen Koren was, the woman referenced in Adam Hills' song, after after ages of Googling comedians named "Erin Coren" (finally worked out that she was the venue owner, which seems obvious now but it hadn't occurred to me at the time, when I was expecting it to be a reference to another performer). Actually, this is a much bigger revelation than that one, which just explained a couple of Adam Hills' lyrics. This is the biggest revelation in all the Cowgate research yet. The two main questions at the heart of the Cowgate mystery are: "Why did you do it?" and "Where did you get the cow?" And now one of those questions has been answered! It has a fucking name!

That second article referred to it specifically as the Metro "mascot". I guess a company is going to make more than one version of a mascot. But still, I don't think you're allowed to just destroy a sponsor's mascot. Maybe that mascot was at the end of its life anyway? Maybe Daniel Kitson just doesn't give a fuck? Maybe Daniel Kitson stole the cow in the first place. There's a whole new question. Who stole the cow? How did they get it back? How did it get from there to its whereabouts on August 26?

I know it wasn't on the Gilded Balloon stage every night of the 2003 Edinburgh Festival, because there's no sign of it in this montage, from Late 'n' Live on August 19, 2003 (also a fun video and great snippets of Chocolate Milk Gang history, if you can get past the second-hand embarrassment of Kitson trying his rap battle thing with an actual musician, and the presence of an actual musician makes the whole thing seem less ironic and therefore harder to watch - but you do get to see David O'Doherty beat up Jason Byrne and that's hilarious, also it's very funny to watch Daniel Kitson do something as out of character as brag about "nearly" winning a Barry Award and having a girlfriend from Australia, especially given how the latter turned out):

So it wasn't there on that night. Also, it just couldn't have been there every night. The Gilded Balloon is a proper venue that has proper shows during most of its time, it couldn't just have a large cow on stage for all of those. Also, in the beginning of that montage video from August 26, you see Kitson talking to the audience about the cow, and it sounds like he considers its presence as much of a novelty as they do. I mean, he's making fun of them for thinking it's a novelty, but he doesn't seem familiar with it, it seems like something he has to address:

This is the main reason for my theory that they didn't plan it beforehand, the montage shows the audience giving Kitson challenges for easy things to do with the cow, he asks them for more difficult challenges and then the video cuts, but I think the audience then asked him to tear it apart. It's a theory that makes sense based on some circumstantial evidence, but it does open up other questions. The main one being whether you can get permission to destroy a company's mascot between the beginning and the end of a comedy show, especially a comedy show that takes place entirely in the middle of the night. It doesn't seem likely. It also opens up some smaller questions, like what they were planning as the end of the show - the finale of the last night of Late 'n' Live, so you'd think they'd have something - that got bumped for this.

This reminds me that I had some further thoughts on the other mystery, of what actually went down on the night of August 26. I was thinking of the somewhat blue sky theory of there being two previous. Evidence for this: Adam Hills referred to "three chances", they were able to pick up chisels off the ground that seemed to just be lying around (possibly having been discarded after previous attempts), and Kitson in that video does have their air of someone who's already watched this go wrong and is really determined to make sure they get it fucking right this time. Evidence against: I'm not sure that works from a show planning perspective. What if it had worked on the first try, then what would the finale have been? If they'd watched it fail twice, would they really have made it the finale, knowing it may well fail a third time and that would be a shit ending? Though this could possibly be explained by the presence of the pipe that someone runs on stage, significantly increasing their chances compared to any attempt where that pipe was not in play.

I thought of something else today: the cow was already down when they started that video. Earlier in the night, we see comedians sitting on the cow, it's standing up. But at the end, when those guys run out to try to take it apart, they don't have to knock it down first. It's already lying on its side. They could have knock it down just before starting the song, but why would they do that? Surely knocking it down would be a fun dramatic moment, so if this were the first time they'd messed with the cow, they'd leave the knocking down to be part of the process. Unless this weren't the first time, and they had dramatically knocked it down before starting to try taking it apart, but this one done at some earlier point that the video didn't catch.

Anyway. That's the revelation. Along with some further thoughts on theories, but the main thing is the revelation. Massive breakthrough, and I need to thank @linkeightvideo one more time for research that he was under absolutely no obligation to do, but he came through anyway. What a legend. Am I using the British expressions right? What a solid gold legend.

[ricesoupremacy]

have a seat child lemme tell you a tale

ok so we’re doing this

@thepermanentscowl i'm just going to post this here because...no one looks at my blog anyway lmao and i don't care

i'm just going to pray i don't look back at this and regret telling you embarrassing shit but fuck it we ball and also i trust you.

warning: this is probably going to read like a shitty cringy school fanfic (look i have girl friends who use wattpad so i am cursed with knowledge okay) but this is absolutely 100% true.

warning #2: there’s a lot of meandering but i won’t apologise because. it’s my story and i’ll tell it however i want.

warning #3: if it seems like it gets a bit dramatic towards the end it’s because i got sad.

overall warning: very long. unedited. full of random shit. read at your own risk.

ANYWAY prepare yourself to read a love story better than romeo and juliet, than jack and rose, than even twilight. prepare to read the most beautifully tragic romance ever.

where do i begin.

Ok so when I was in fifth grade, I had the misfortune of somehow landing in the worst class an idiot child like me could end up in. I was never the “quiet kid”- on the contrary, I was always the one jumping on tables and getting sent out of class- but being with people like my classmates made me a Sad Boi for a whole year. You know, 10-11 year-old kids who’d just realised romance was a thing and who felt the need to incorporate it into every aspect of their dumb almost-middle-school lives. Every day was ‘OoOOHhHh wHo dO yOu LiKe’ or ‘oOOOhHHh wHo ArE yOu LoOkInG aT’. I couldn’t really blame them for getting over-excited, maybe I was just boring for my age. Anyway, I morphed into a kid who spent his lunch breaks sneaking books from the senior library and consulting a mini Oxford dictionary whenever I was in doubt, which was often.

It wasn’t just the teasing that got on my nerves, it was that my classmates were those pre-adolescents who’d later grow up into those wannabe Am-EHRIK-en teenagers- thinking they were so cool and sporting superior ‘Oh you don’t watch so-and-so hot boy’s Youtube channel? How saa-yad.’ airs that made me want to gag. I digress but whatever.

Needless to say, the Oxford Pocket dictionary was my best friend that year.

From a kid who ran into school bright-eyed and beaming every day, I turned into one who dreaded the prospect of entering a class with fresh hormone charged, irritating-beyond-words kids who were more concerned about some low-life’s Youtube tutorials than playing Tag. I did not care about next year. I was going to stay a silent emo kid planning murder at the back of my class forever. Was…what I thought.

___

I hadn’t even bothered to look at my 6th grade class list properly when we went for the end-of-the-year PTM. I was mildly surprised that I’d been shifted to a class with a completely different set of kids, many of whose names were unfamiliar. It’s probably going to be a repeat of last year, I thought. Whatever, just keep your head down and find something good to read. And let them think you’re the snooty class-topper who looks down on everyone else. You don’t care what they think of you, anyway.

Those were the sunshiny thoughts running through my head when I walked through the corridors on the first day of sixth grade, ignoring the kids running around and chattering happily with their friends, completely oblivious of the fact that one of those kids was running way too fast without looking- in my direction. Next thing I knew, I felt a body slam into me, knocking me to the ground. I fell on my school bag, the other kid fell on top of me. He immediately got up, but I barely saw him. I was too busy opening my bag to check if my books were okay- and they were, by some miracle. No damage. It was only when I breathed a sigh of relief that I became aware that some kids were asking if I was alright, and the boy who had run into me was apologising profusely and looking very guilty. I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at the boy warily. Wildly curly hair, glasses askew, shirt untucked. He looked like one word- trouble. ‘It’s fine’, I said to him. ‘I’m fine. Stop saying sorry.’ He looked relieved.

I got up and began to walk to class. The boy fell into step beside me, and said ‘You’re Arya, right?’

I looked at him, surprised. ‘Yes…how do you know my name?’

He seemed excited for some reason. ‘Um, I saw you at the inter-house Spell-Bee last year. You were really cool. I didn’t even know half the words,’ he grinned.

I looked at him properly for the first time. He came to my shoulder, he had brown wide eyes, and he spoke really fast and animated, like an RJ.

I found myself grinning back at him. He had the most infectious smile.

‘I’m Vishwesh!’ he said very excitedly.

‘Sounds like “fish”’ was the first, highly intelligent thought that I blurted out and immediately hated myself for saying. What the hell, I thought. WHO SAYS THAT TO SOMEONE THEY JUST MET?!

Vishwesh stared at me. Then he laughed. ‘You’re right, it does. Hey, you can call me that if you want.’

I was confused. ‘Sure? You want to be called Fish?’ 

‘It sounds funny. I’ve never had a funny nickname. And we’re in the same class.’

We were? What a coincidence. At least there seemed to be one guy I could be friends with.

Fish walked me to our class, talking about last night’s cricket match that I hadn’t watched. I decided that I liked his voice. A little higher than most boys our age, frequented by voice cracks. His constant stream of chatter was weirdly soothing. I usually got really annoyed by people who didn’t know when to shut up (still do btw).

We climbed up the last flight of stairs and stood at the doorway. I stared.

The first thing I saw was a boy standing on a table and scream-singing “Thunder” while a bunch of other guys ran around him like they were summoning a spirit. The second thing I saw was a group of girls throwing a tennis ball at each other. One of them threw it a bit too hard (obviously, an accident. Obviously.), and it sailed out of the class and hit our (female) chemistry teacher- who was flirting with our (male) biology teacher- right in the face. The chem teacher stormed into class yelling at the girl (who was making a heroic effort not to laugh), while the bio teacher took the opportunity to go pasta la vista, and the demonic chanting of “thu-thu-THUNDAH” just grew louder. It was the most chaotic scene imaginable. Fish looked at me and chuckled. ‘Better get used to stuff like this.’

I almost shed tears of joy.

I’d finally found my people.

___

Surprising most people including myself, Fish and I got along like a house on fire. Classic anime trope- short idiot delinquent boy who’s actually really nice becomes besties with the tall brooding introverted topper (not to bRaG). We bonded. Even though we were…different. He was fun. And he brought back the dying fire of fun in me.

I also became pretty close to the aforementioned Thunder-boy and Tennis-ball-girl- their names were Tanmay (yes, that guy with the plane and bomb knowledge) and Nadia. Who were. Also grade toppers. Somehow.

Apparently Fish had joined the previous year and had become fast friends with Tanmay.  The kids in their section hadn't been shuffled at all, except for me. I was the only one who didn’t already know everyone. But that changed pretty quick. Everyone was so friendly and welcoming, it felt like I’d known them for ages. Especially Fish (which is what I ended up calling him all the time).

Initially, I got the feeling Tanmay disliked me (he did). I felt this hostile energy radiating off him whenever Fish started fanboying about Eminem to me. I guessed he felt a bit put out that his best friend had betrayed him, but it’s not like he completely ignored Tanmay. I tried talking to him too, but I was often snubbed. Idiot. Anyway, I soon used his weakness (Imagine Dragons) to charm my way into his heart and boom, Tanmay suddenly loves me. The three of us became a really tight friend group. But Fish and I always did practically everything together.

I guess it was because we complemented each other really well. Fish was absolutely reckless, and he needed moi to make sure he didn’t kill himself (mom energy lol). I’d grown too withdrawn, and he helped me loosen up. And we both loved cricket.

Once, we were hanging out near the school swimming pool. It’s open and the adjoining compound opens into the school owner’s mansion. The brick wall that separates the school and house isn’t high, but no nut would dare trespass.

Except my nut best friend.

He was trying to show me this trick with his ID card, and accidentally flipped it too high. It sailed over the wall and onto the owner’s manicured lawn. We both looked at each other. Before I could say, “Don’t even think about it,” Fish had taken his shoes off and hauled himself up with the agility of a small monkey, and jumped to the other side. I held my breath and waited, and soon his head popped up over the wall, followed by the rest of his body. He sat there and swung his legs, and we realised that he’s made a Miscalculation. See, the owner’s plot was a level higher than the school ground level. So he could jump to the other side, no problem. But he couldn’t jump back to this side without breaking his ankles. So he had to carefully turn and feel for a foothold on the brick wall while hanging precariously by his fingers.

Climbing down a wall is often a much more terrifying ordeal than climbing up one, especially for a barely five foot tall child. He tried to act cool but I could see his hands tremble. Fish’s foot was just a few centimetres above a hold he couldn’t see. He gingerly placed one foot on it. Then the other.

Then he slipped.

I caught him.

I staggered back, but somehow, somehow, I didn’t lose my balance and fall and kill us both. I set him on his feet.

He beamed and waved the retrieved ID like a medal. ‘Mission accomplished.’ I laughed.

‘Thanks, dude. I thought I was gonna die. When the hell did you get so strong?’ He punched my shoulder.

‘I’m not strong, you’re just small,’ I grinned and ruffled his hair.

Fish scowled. ‘How dare you insult me? I’m not small, you guys just grow abnormally fast.’ He said that in a highly offended voice, but he was smiling.

‘Who said I was insulting you? Being short isn’t a bad thing, you know,’ I was still grinning at him. ‘Short people are cute.’ And with that I slapped his back (not gently). He howled with pain, scowling at me when I laughed at him. In revenge, he pulled my cheeks really hard. Normal affectionate guy behaviour. I almost threw him into the pool, but a P.E teacher caught us and took us to the headmistress for “causing a ruckus”.

The consequences when she found out Fish had climbed into the owner’s compound were…not pretty. I was let off because I didn’t technically do anything lol.

I don’t know why I typed out that (painful) incident but I just remembered and it was funny. And it proves the point of Fish being An Idiot who would do anything without hesitation. We did a lot of shit together. Good times.

Sixth grade was really fun, it helped me go back to being the silly kid I had always been. Even the girls weren’t jerks like the ones in my old class, they were really chill and funny. Before I knew it, the academic year had ended.

Through that summer, I desperately hoped I would have the same classmates. Sometimes my school would shuffle random classes, and the teachers had threatened our Very Disciplined Class that we’d all be separated in seventh because no one could handle such “hooligans”. I don’t know why they would say that. We were absolute Sweet Children™. Anyway, the gods must’ve taken pity on me because there was absolutely no shuffling in seventh, except one new girl who’d joined that year, and she was nice enough. I was over the moon.

Teasing and shipping was prevalent even in sixth, but it was never beyond a limit. I didn’t care about it.

If it was even possible, Fish and I grew closer that year. Both of us had grown, but I was still taller. I was one of those kids who shot up in middle school but stayed the same height after that, while all the other guys grew taller than me in high school. Sad.

___

There was a sort of cult that started in sixth and continued in seventh- the Percy Jackson cult. Everyone in my class was reading it, almost at the same pace. I started reading it late, so by the time I was done with The Last Olympian, most kids were already on The House of Hades. But I was fast, and I was catching up.

Since everyone was reading pretty much together, they all reached one scene in HOH before me. And that scene created a HUGE uproar.

I remember walking into class from the bathroom one morning, and Tanmay ran to me like Sonic and yelled ‘DUDENICOLIKESPERCY’.

‘What?’ I said. ‘Nico? The Hades kid?’ I still hadn’t started HOH.

‘YEAH, HE HAS A CRUSH ON PERCY. LIKE, HE’S IN LOVE WITH HIM.’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Okay.’

To be honest it didn’t exactly shock me or anything. That a guy could like another guy. I didn’t understand why Nico would like Percy of all people but hey, I get it. Percy is Percy. Apparently the Cupid scene became the most disliked part of the books, because soon everyone was cussing at him and crying over Nico. Someone engraved “FUCK EROS” on the wall. I visited my old class a few months ago, and it’s still there. Nico was a really popular character in my class so. I guess the reaction was understandable?

‘Hey, stop spoiling it for him!’ Nadia (best girl friend) scolded Tanmay. ‘He barely started Heroes of Olympus, how would he understand the context?’

‘Wait, but Percy’s still dating Annabeth, right?’ I asked. They nodded. ‘So…it’s a one-sided crush? That’s…sad.’

‘I knowwww, right?’ Nadia sighed. ‘I hope he gets a boyfriend by the end. My poor boy deserves it.’

‘Apparently he dates Will Solace,’ Tanmay added very helpfully, before either of us could stop him. ‘And what do you mean, “my poor boy”? He’s older than all of us, he’s not your son.’

Will Solace, the Apollo kid? Damn, I thought, while Nadia and Tanmay started fighting over spoiling stuff before reading them yet again.

‘Anyway, did you expect that? Nico being gay?’ Tanmay seemed unable to let this very interesting topic go. ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I got the impression he liked Annabeth.’

Tanmay was going to say something, but Fish entered the class just then. He ran to him and repeated the question with the same enthusiasm. Fish didn’t really seem to care; he was more worried about a math test he did not know was going to take place until two minutes ago. 

He walked straight to me and asked me to write all the formulas for the chapter on the board and explain some tough sums to him. ‘Why do you always ask Arya for help with homework and stuff?’ Tanmay raised an eyebrow.

Fish and I blinked at him. ‘Be-cuhhhhhhs he’s smart?’

‘Well, so am I!’ Tanmay said indignantly.

‘Are you seriously jealous?’ I snorted. T glared at me. ‘Even…even Nadia’s smart, why don’t you ask her?’

Fish looked at Nadia. ‘Uhh she is, but, I don’t know?’ He grinned. ‘Are you jealous?’

Tanmay was considering the both of us carefully. ‘Nope.’

‘Great,’ Fish said, pulling me to the whiteboard and shoving a marker into my hand. ‘Then let me get the help I need to pass.’

___

Middle school boys have the irrational urge to seem cool physically (for the girls or for their own egos, who knows), which is why arm wrestling became a favourite pastime at some point. Teacher disappears for five seconds, you suddenly have an arm wrestling ring in the middle of the classroom.

I took part in them too. I guess that moment when the back of your opponent’s hand makes contact with the table filled me with some sort of heady joy because I wasn’t necessarily the strongest guy in class. I’ve heard girls snicker that arm wrestling is just an excuse for guys to hold hands and I wonder if that’s true lol. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t.

I don’t know if my feelings for Fish were purely platonic at this particular point, or ever. I don’t think I’ll ever know.

Some people talk about a moment when they “fall in love”. I don’t know if I believe that. I don’t know if it’s actually possible. But I guess this is close enough for my “at that moment…I knew”.

It was a free period. I was arm wrestling with Fish. The class was cheering. I was winning easily.

Fish was frowning from exertion. ‘Damn it,’ he panted. ‘Have some pity on me.’

‘If you’re going to try and distract me, it won’t work.’

‘You’re clearly winning, there’s no point anyway, Ari.’

‘Ari?’

‘Heh, like Ariana Grande, no?’

‘“Ari” means “rice” in my mother tongue.’ 

‘Then we make a pretty good South Indian meal together, eh?’ (Rice and fish curry. Both of us are South Indians)

I smiled, but said nothing, just concentrating on his arm inching closer to the table with every passing second.

And then he did something that knocked the breath out of my lungs.

He said my name.

Okay I- I know that sounds crazy. Fish must have said my name a gazillion times before. But somehow…when he said it then…the world stopped for me. I know it sounds cheesy as hell. But. Just. The way he said it. The way he just quietly said ‘Ah-Ree-Ah’ as if to himself, those three ordinary syllables that made my name, as if he was trying out their taste on his tongue and he wasn’t sure what to make of it, as if he was trying to see if it sounded special, as if he was trying to find something in it-

I went still, boisterous class and stupid wrestling match be damned. I stared at him as a shiver ran down my spine and something went tight in the base of my neck. He hadn’t noticed. He was able to gain on me, slowly pushing my arm down as my grip and my concentration wavered. The class whooped at this plot twist, oblivious to my internal panic.

But it only lasted a second.

I pushed down viciously and slammed his arm onto the desk as my friends erupted into cheers. Fish winced slightly and flashed his signature lopsided grin at me. ‘Good match, dude. You work out or something?’ He joked.

He didn’t seem to know what he’d done to me. For one second, I hated him with an intensity I hadn’t felt in a while. For one second only. Then I was flexing my wrist and laughing with him like nothing happened.

___

I guess some part of my brain had dimly registered that this was probably what kids were constantly snickering about- a crush. Did I have a crush on my best friend? When did this happen?? I wasn’t sure what to do with that information. I wasn’t sure it even mattered.

Maybe I was just a tiny bit more jumpy around him now that I was maybe sort of aware. Maybe I was a tiny bit scared. Of what? I wasn’t sure. Of him? Of myself?

I didn’t care.

He was still my dumb best friend. We still hung out. Nothing mattered. Nothing was ever going to change. And I didn’t mind that. As long as I could laugh at him making a fool out of himself and help him with math and create stupid games together, I didn’t mind.

It wasn’t going to make a difference.

___

Around the middle of the academic year, I began to notice a slight change in Fish’s behaviour. He started being more…touchy-feely? I mean, most guys in middle school (and forever after that too, actually) have zero regard for personal space around each other. Drape your arms around your bro’s shoulder, he won’t mind. But now it was different. Maybe it was because I liked him and hence was hyper-aware of every tiny thing he did, but I noticed. For starters, he jumped on me. Literally jumped onto me from behind. A lot. Then I’d give him a piggyback  ride to wherever. As bros do. I thought I would get used to it but he always managed to take me by surprise and almost kill me lol. And there were other things. He’d grab my wrist or my arm a lot.

As the year went on, the stomach-somersaulting sensations got worse. And I think sometimes, I ended up staring at him like an idiot without realising it. Embarrassing.

I don’t know what Tanmay is made of, but man figured out something was up very quick. I finally worked up enough courage to talk to him because I was a confused muddle of emotions and I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

I told him I thought I might like Fish. Yes, might like. I think even though I’d sort of accepted it, I didn’t necessarily want it to be true, if that even makes sense. I was in denial, basically.

T listened to me rant and stutter without a word. Then he asked me a really simple question that I couldn’t believe I hadn’t considered earlier- ‘Do you feel the same way around Vishwesh the way you do around other guys? Like me, for example?’

Of course I didn’t.

‘Dude,’ Tanmay wasn’t even trying to hide his smile. ‘You like him.’

I said something intelligent like ‘Uh. No. I mean, maybe. I don’t know. Shit. I don’t know. At all.’

Tanmay rolled his eyes. ‘Okay, I was wrong. You like him a lot,’ he corrected helpfully.

I consider myself lucky to have him as my friend.

___

Tanmay promised not to tell anyone, but with the way I was acting and with the way Fish was suddenly…different somehow, other kids caught wind of something. They talked. And, yeah, we were shipped. Kind of. I didn’t like it only because Fish got all uncomfortable and then he’d get mad. He stopped jumping onto me like a monkey. He stopped sitting near me. All that, I could deal with. Quite honestly, I didn’t blame him for that.

Then he stopped talking to me.

He’d straight up ignore me. And obviously, that made everyone talk more.

There was a new girl I mentioned, who joined our class that year? Suddenly, she became besties with him. And he’d always talk to her very pointedly while she giggled and shit. I don’t care that this is the jealousy plot of every gay romance ever- I was burning with jealousy.

If he wanted to play like that, fine. I didn’t give a damn.

I ignored both of them pretty well.

I was angry. I was angry at him for caring so much about what we looked like that he found the need to convince other people there was nothing between us. If there wasn’t, then what was the point anyway?? Was our friendship really that fragile that one barely considerable “rumour” reduced us to strangers trying to get each others’ attention by not giving each other any attention?

And then there was the girl. She was fine when I first met her, but maybe I was just pissed off in general, but she started to piss me off more. That was probably unfair because she didn’t even do anything except talk to him when she knew I was looking.

Tanmay seemed very amused that I didn’t know what was really going on. ‘She likes you, duh.’

‘She what now?’

‘Classic girl trick. Give your best friend more attention than you to make you jealous.’

‘That…is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.’

‘It’s girl stuff.’

‘I don’t get girls.’

‘Yeah I can see that,’ he laughed. I glared at her. I saw her blush and that made me angrier. She did make me jealous- jealous of her.

‘You need to stop hating on her.’

‘It’s her fault.’

‘You know that’s not true.’

‘I know…I just…this all sucks.’

‘Maybe you should stop being such a jelly little boi.’

‘I am not being a “jelly little boi.’

‘Don’t lie to meeeeee, someone’s jellyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy-’

‘Please stop-’

‘aRi’S JeLLyYyYyYyyYyy- wait. Oh. My. God.’

‘What?’

‘I just realised…if you’re jelly…and he’s…Fish…’

‘Oh my god don’t you dare-’

‘The both of you make JELLYFISH AHAHAHAHAHAHA-’

‘I hate you.’

___

So. Yeah. Nothing really improved after that. Fish still avoided me like the plague. I caught him looking at me sometimes. I pretended not to notice. But on the inside…I missed him so much it physically hurt. I didn’t get why shit had to be so complicated. I wished everything would magically go back to the way it was.

Tanmay still hollered “JELLYFISH” at us sometimes. He liked to embarrass us that way. Maybe it was his way of trying to get us to laugh about dumb shit and talk again. I appreciate it, but it never worked.

Until the last day.

I will never understand why I chose that day of all days to confront him. What a crazy coincidence.

10th March, 2019.

Home time.

Kids were walking out of their classes, bags slung on their shoulders, happily going home. Like any other day after school ended.

Fish was walking out, too. I watched him. He resolutely turned the other way, his footsteps measured.

I couldn’t take his shit any more.

I grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around to face me.

He was still shorter. His eyes, wide and brown, didn’t sparkle with mischief the way they did when I first looked into them.

I yelled at him. I shouldn’t have. But I yelled into his face about how he was acting like a dick and how I just wanted to be friends again and how he was acting stupid and it felt like he didn’t care about me at all and that I trusted him and if the thought, the thought grossed him out so much, that he and I could be-

I ran out of air. I just looked at him wordlessly. I didn’t know who I was angry at.

He looked back. He didn’t have anything to say either.

His silence infuriated me more than anything he could have said. I was about to turn away-

when he caught me. He caught my arm. The way he used to.

I froze.

I couldn’t breathe.

The sound I heard next shattered the horrible silence…and my heart. (dramatic music intensifies)

Fish sobbed like the world was going to end.

He was clutching me tight, so tight it hurt. The front of my shirt was wet- with his tears. I felt dizzy. What the heck was going on? If anyone should be crying, it should be me-

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered into my shirt. ‘I’m so fucking sorry, Arya. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m sorry.’

I can still hear him say those words, clear as day.

The next thing I knew, we weren’t hugging anymore. The image of his tear-streaked face was plastered in my mind as I staggered out of school and walked home, the only depressed soul amidst a crowd of cheerful middle school kids.

That was the last time I ever saw him.

Because the next day, school announces shutdown due to a positive COVID-19 case on our street. And that shutdown was followed by a nationwide one.

Idiot messages me two days later saying he’s moving away to another country and he didn’t want to tell me because he was being an asshole and he felt miserable overall.

I wasn’t even sure I was angry anymore. I was so tired of being angry at him. I was…sad I was the last one to know. I was sad he was moving away. Sad that things seemed to end like this.

We never really talk about that. I don’t know if we’re pretending it never happened, or we’re just acknowledging that neither of us really knew what the heck we were doing. Stupid middle school shit. 

We talk now, and I don’t like him like that anymore. Out of sight, out of mind and all that I guess.

That doesn’t stop me from wondering What if? though.

[nighttimelights-prompted]

Hello! I would just like to say I really like your style of writing. This blog has quickly become one of the ones I check regularly, if only to re-read posts. Oh, and I especially like your interpretations of UT!Papyrus and US!Sans, since I usually see them written in a way that does not fully capture what made Papyrus my absolute favorite character in the first place. So, ramble ramble, I'm a fan. ovo

this seriously made my night.

and i’m especially happy to hear that you like the way i do UT Pap and US Sans - i try to do right by the original Papyrus (which is how i translate it to US Sans, of course), and i’m always excited when i hear that someone else likes my interpretation. i definitely understand what you mean about wanting to read more of that kind of Papyrus, the kind that at least comes mildly close to the one in Undertale that stole our hearts.

so… here’s just a silly little drabble for you in thanks, with a little UT Pap x Reader silliness. :)

You knew you had the music turned up a little too loud, but with it being the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday you felt you could let yourself get away with it. It wasn’t anything disruptive, in any case - after all, you worked in a small boutique tea shop. The atmosphere wasn’t what one would immediately describe as ‘lively’.

But hey - it paid pretty well, the owner was sweet, and you got to be around the wonderful smell of a staggering variety of teas.

So you hummed along to the relaxing song that you had going currently, reaching up on tip toe on your stepladder to dust the higher shelves. With everything stocked, reorganized, deep-cleaned, and more, there wasn’t much else to do, provided you didn’t accidentally make a mess yourself.

“HELLO, HUMAN!”

You screamed as you startled, instinctively twisting to look towards the booming voice - which you immediately realizedwas a terrible decision, resulting in your weight shifting so that you were pulled off balance, causing the stepladder to tip over and send you falling towards the floor. You clenched your eyes shut as you prepared for the painful impact-

“OOP-!”

You were caught in an unyielding and suprisingly gentle pair of arms, which were attached to an equally unyielding body, that had just huffed out with relatively anticlimactic effort as you made impact.

You opened your eyes as you caught up to the fact that no further impact was coming.

“Oh god, thank you, I- skeLETON THAT’S - YOU’RE A- errrr I mean hellllllo, sir-!”

Your recovery was about as smooth as it could be, clearly.

You stared upwards at the face of both your downfall and savior - an incredibly bright, cheerful skeleton. Your face flushed, from both embarrassment and a flurry of not-quite-formed thoughts as you registered how effortlessly this skeleton was holding you, at the placement of his hands near your shoulder and behind your knees as he held you close in an absurdly perfect bridal style.

“HELLO IN RETURN, HUMAN! AGAIN! FOR THE SECOND TIME! YOU ARE DEFINITELY OBSERVANT, I MUST GIVE YOU THAT - I’VE HAD A FEW OTHER HUMANS IMMEDIATELY NOTE MY APPEARANCE IN SUCH A WAY, BUT YOU’VE DONE IT WITH THE COURTESY OF EVEN THANKING ME FOR BEING A SKELETON FIRST!”

Your flush deepened.

“I mean - I’m sorry, I wasn’t - um. I didn’t mean to scream,” you managed to say, giving up on correcting him and instead half-remembering that you’re supposed to be an employee. And speaking of which - “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry, you can - you can let me down now, I should be fine to stand!”

The skeleton’s brow drew downward for the first time, his expression creasing slightly in concern. “ARE YOU QUITE CERTAIN? YOU ARE DEFINITELY A PARAGON OF HUMANITY AND… STANDING-UP-NESS - ER, THAT IS TO SAY, I TRUST THAT YOU CAN STAND ON YOUR FEET, I THINK, BUT. WELL. YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT ACTIONS VERSUS WORDS AND ALL THAT. AND I’LL ADMIT, FROM WHAT I’VE SEEN, I HAVE SOME RESERVATIONS ABOUT YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH GRAVITY. PARTICULARLY THE NOT SUCCUMBING TO IT PART. IMMEDIATELY. IN A… HORIZONTAL FASHION.”

Your hands were nearly covering your face, and your palms were close to combusting with the heat coming from your cheeks. Not only could you clearly not be trusted by this sweet, cute skeleton to stand, you - wait, nope, what were those adjectives, stop that right there.

“NoreallyI’mgoodIpromisepleasejustletmestandbeforeIdiethanks!”

… You had to give him credit, he picked out your words at the lightning speed they flew out of you and immediately righted you and had you standing. You didn’t pull your hands from your face. You weren’t quite sure you ever would, really.

“OKAY, OKAY, YES THERE- I - HUMANS CAN DIE FROM NOT STANDING?? DOES THAT APPLY TO MONSTERS TOO? I MEAN, I MAKE A POINT TO STAND A LOT, I’M QUITE THE EXPERT, BUT I’LL REALLY HAVE TO PASS THAT INFORMATION ON TO SANS, MAYBE THAT’LL GET HIM MOVING A LITTLE FASTER IN THE MORNINGS - OR AFTERNOONS, OR, YOU KNOW, EVER,” the skeleton said. He too was rambling, and to your confusion his cheekbones were glowing a faint orange as he quickly pulled his gloved hands away from you in anxious worry, before reaching out again, pausing, patting the air barely an inch above your shoulder, then fluttering them sort of uselessly.

He inhaled, somehow, then looked away as if catching onto himself. He cleared his throat then, again somehow, and looked to you with a somewhat sheepish tilt to his bright smile.

“IN… ANY CASE! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

You nodded quickly - you absolutely were. Too okay, in fact. Despite your inclination to continue protecting the surrounding air from your blush, you lifted your own hands and waved them in front of you insistently.

“Yes, yes, of course! Thank you so much for catching me, I would’ve been having a really hard time otherwise,” you said, laughter bubbling out of you in polite amiability and ongoing embarassment. “I didn’t mean to trouble you like that - please, how can I help you today?”

He brightened at that, the strange glow still glimmering beneath his eyesockets as he straightened a little. “YES, OF COURSE! YOU ARE VERY KIND, HUMAN - I AM IN FACT NEED OF YOUR HELP, YOUR TEA-ORIENTED MASTERY IS IN FACT WHAT I MOST DESIRE! YOU SEE, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS-” He struck a pose at that, a cheesy and yet dashing pose that you could imagine any knight-in-shining-armor ready to strike when ready to charge into danger. You pressed a hand to your mouth, covering a smile that was widening in a very, very genuine way. “-I HAVE BEEN HIRED TO BE A PERSONAL GUARD TO A DEAR FRIEND OF MINE, HIRED BY THEIR FATHER IN FACT, WHO IS SOMEONE WHO MAY OR MAY NOT LIKE TEA. A LOT. TO AN OBSESSIVE LEVEL, REALLY. YOU KNOW, AS HAPPENS. IN ANY CASE, I WANT TO BE A GOOD INFLUENCE AS WELL AS A GOOD GUARD, AND SHOW THAT I REALLY KNOW WHAT IS UP! AND WHAT IS EVEN HIGHER, IF POSSIBLE!”

“Wow, I… really admire that dedication, that’s - you’re amazing, Papyrus,” you said, returning his bright smile. Something about even just his presence was making you happy - but maybe that was his attitude… and confidence. And incredible posing skills.

The glow on his cheeks brightened at your words. He laughed, a sound that filled you further with warmth even as it stuttered as he glanced from side to side. “O-OH, OF COURSE, HUMAN! I AM GREAT, AFTER ALL, AND AMAZING FALLS UNDER THAT SORT OF… GREAT… UMBRELLA! YES.”

His gloved hand went to rub at his vertebrae, and you decided to be merciful. “So! You’d like to learn more about tea, then? And perhaps we could set you up with a few options to bring with you your first day, really show them that you know what’s up with tea?” You offered with a smile, sweeping a hand towards the beautifully full shelves of your store, teeming with variety and potential combinations.

“WOWIE, WOULD I! I KNEW THIS WAS THE RIGHT PLACE TO GO - IT WAS DEFINITELY MY SOUL THAT LED ME HERE! AND MY PHONE. BUT MY SOUL HAPPENED TO DEFINITELY CONFIRM THE VERY HANDY HINTS PROVIDED BY MY PHONE!” He nodded sagely as his gaze went to the shelves. He then turned his attention back to you, his expression lighting up once more, tinged with a mischievous excitement. The next moment he was bowing ostentatiously, and he looked up from it to wink at you… audibly. “LEAD THE WAY, TEAMASTER! I AWAIT YOUR LEAFY-WATER WISDOM!”

You couldn’t help the return of your blush as you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing. He rose with a cheeky tilt to his smile, a twinkle in his eye telling you that he wasn’t entirely unaware of what he was doing.

Your mind made up, you reached out and slipped your hand into his and tugged him further along the closest wall. “Alright then, Great Papyrus,” you said, looking back at his orange-dusted beaming face with a mischievous smile of your own. “Let’s see if you’re ready for the great secrets of tea.”