#bisexual disaster will solace

[kindred-spirit-93]

aight part 2 (theyre all long aha im sorry XD) enjoy

BRIGHT

the pain in my wrist was excruciating. i could barely keep my face straight. slightly out of breath and with chiron on my heels (i felt guilty for ages after that. it really wasnt all that bad, but i was grateful he cared i suppose. but mostly guilty.) i reached the infirmary in one piece, aware of my surroundings but only just.

i think it was the strong smell of disinfectant that i registered first. the early morning light pouring in from the windows, and the soft sound of music, specifically a string instrument, and light chatter followed. too bright was all i could think of. even brighter than it was outside.

it was all well and nice, but i was bleeding and really wanted to collapse in a dark corner somewhere. and maybe sleep forever, i thought darkly. i all but physically swatted the notion away. brood later, i told myself firmly. i was feeling quite helpless and turned around to see if there was anywhere i should go, a first aid station or something. anything.

instead, i met another patients eyes. she was standing not too far away from where i was, nursing a very bloody nose. i didnt mean to look for too long, but good grief that was more blood than i thought a nose could spurt. i hope it wasnt too serious.

i flinched when someone lightly tapped on my shoulder. a blond young man in a white coat extended a hand. his left to be specific. i blanked, completely forgetting why the hell i was here in the first place and instead frowning at the stranger who wanted to shake my hand of all things. and his left hand? what was the world coming to?

whether it was the blood loss or my usual scatterbrained self, it took me a solid minute to realise that the stranger, who seemed to be in a good mood (how can anyone smile this early in the morning?) wanted to see my hand and evaluate the damage. not shake it. how i graduated top of my class i will never know.

FUZZY

looking back, our friendship was unlike any other ive ever had. never taking a single pattern or conforming to a single mold, but branching out and blurring lines into something soft and warm and comforting.

she always laughed when i compared it to soup, calling me a heathen for preferring it out of a mug, to which i replied with a pillow to her face. with her i felt a happiness i thought id never feel again.

we bonded a lot over music, which is a given with any child of apollo, but in my case i was exploring what i liked while she relaxed by singing along or playing something of her own.

it was a particularly rainy day and we were stranded, so to speak, in my room. i had borrowed chirons gramophone and my favourite jazz records, and breakfasted on cakes and tea. oh what i wouldnt give to relive that morning again.

she was at my desk writing in her journal and i had decided to practice some stitches while sitting at the foot of my bed. it was maybe an hour later i got up to stretch and thought to break the silence. i tried to call her but the only noise that left my throat was a hum. she hummed in response a moment later and i chuckled. we transcend language i joked to myself.

the rain pattering on the window, the low humming of whatever love song was softly playing, the comfortable silence that had blanketed us. the fuzzy warmth was enough to make me cry. instead i took a moment to articulate everything i was feeling. content. bittersweet. safe. nostalgic. home. finally at peace. alhamdulillah.

PRETTY

the air was crisp, not enough to warrant an extra layer, but cool nevertheless. i checked my reflection before leaving and was quite taken aback. why you could pass for a functioning member of society i teased. rolling my eyes at my antics i left without a second glance.

i dont avoid mirrors per se, but i dont seek them out either. i saw a lot of mama in me, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, her features, her death glare. and the similarities only became more apparent with time. i was still me of course, but at a certain angle i was an exact copy. and it hurt, despite the pride that came with it.

my aunt had insisted on buying me something for my birthday, so i meekly accepted (as if i had a choice) and picked out something slightly more special than id typically wear. and by special i mean embroidered sleeves. im too practical. just like a certain someone, i thought fondly. mama would have liked it too i think. although the tag said it was grey i only saw mint. and she liked green so that was that.

come day of the dance, a one time thing thank God, i started to have second thoughts. it was much too late of course to back out, but i entertained the thought anyway. i was going to be in the vicinity of people. a fate worse than death indeed. why did i ever agree to this?

sadly my wallowing in self pity had to be cut short. i could do feelings later, for now there was work to be done. not the best approach i know, but what can i say, im extremely practical.

i was a liitle early, chiron had said hed arrive soon. i cleared my throat, the chatter died down, and all eyes were on me. shit. "good evening everyone!" a few grumbles greeted me back.

"chiron will be here momentarily, uh, but before that a few words." my gaze swept the entire hall. demigods dressed in their best and looking for a night of calm and fun after an extremely rough storm. my heart went out to all of them. "tonight is a celebration for all that you have achieved thus far in your journeys, be it in camp or out, in loving memory of those we lost along the way, and of course to strengthen bonds and forge new ones." God why was everone holding their breath? how i havent i been pelted with tomatoes yet?

"being a demigod isnt easy, nor will it get any easier, but the least we can do is make the most of what moments of peace and happiness we are given." my gaze once again swept the room, settling on no one in particular, but i had a few in mind.

"from my heart of hearts i wish each and every one of you the best in life wherever and whatever it may be. take care of yourselves and of each other, and never lose sight of whats important to you."

i flinched at the sudden roar of applause i was faced with. was dionysus standing behind me with barrels of 'sparkling grape juice'? nope. apparently it was still only me. i never wanted to be curled in my blankets and as far away as humanly possible from the limelight so much in my life.

chiron thankfully had arrived just as the noise died down, and i recited the last of what i rehearsed for the night before he took over. "since tonight is a break for everyone, i am keen for everyone to have a good time, but fair warning, too much 'fun' and youll be dealing with me." chiron was busy examining the ceiling, a small smile on his face.

"im taking the infirmary shift tonight and unless you want an obituary in your patient records you will behave." dead silence. good. they were all too young for alcohol and it wasnt allowed in camp, but i trusted no one. "that said, have fun." there was a whoop and some cheers. i grinned at their enthusiasm.

....

the rest of the night went smoother than a hot knife through butter. it was a great success and everything went as perfectly as it could. the hard work had payed off and i was extremely happy and morbidly embarassed as campers greeted and thanked me on their way out.

one of the earliest couples to leave were a certain nico and will, but not before saying hi. will had stammered something about being the prettiest, much to nicos disgust. i studied the floor with great detail in attempt to shove down the unholy shriek of laughter threatening to escape. nico told me what had happened with persephone over breakfast once and i exhaled my coffee through my nose.

and then he straightened up as if remembering something. i noticed it immediately and was grateful i prepared myself before hand. "about tonights shift.." he started.

"i will see to everything i promise you have absolutely nothing to worry about". i cut him off before he could come up with an excuse to overwork himself half to death.

"but-"

"absolutely not. you will take tonight and all of next week off, its been arranged. now go enjoy what time you have left before curfew. its till midnight today only as a treat." will was not having it, and it was quite funny. he seemed to argue the concept and not the case, but i couldnt be sure, nico was half dragging him out already.

"shan't. im head medic and i wont be going against schedule. you cant make me" i raised my eyebrows in amusement. using titles are we? this was too good. there was no way he was serious.

but he was. were going to have to work on that later, i thought grimly. i sighed. nico sighed. the world took a collective sigh.

"right, listen here solace." nicos smirked and will looked mortified. reality was finally settling in. i nearly felt sorry for him. but i didnt.

"you arent going against schedule, i already said id arranged it before hand. kayla and austin insisted on a few extra days off for you and who was i to resist?" he muttered something about treason and treachery. and i held down a smirk.

"and besides," my eyes glinted for emphasis. a child of hades thing if you will. "my camp councellor's orders are equal to your own and its very well within my power to override them when i see fit." will gasped and nico grinned wickedly. i gave him some time to recover and turned to nico, asking if hed gotten my last batch of pastries. he said he did and compared them to his nonna's baking. the highest praise i could ever hope to recieve. tonight couldnt get any better if it tried.

"of course i wont make you do anything, but i suggest for your well being and mine that you comply and enjoy some well earned peace and quiet." i gave him a rueful smile, and on cue nico tugged at wills sleeve and let his best puppy eyes do the the rest. i gagged and he gave in to defeat. or was it despair? i forget which.

peer pressure really does work wonders, i thought while waving them off. grinning, i wondered what diana would have made of the pair.

the END thank frick this was exhausting but so much fun omg. heres what i had in mind for hilal lol (its giving wattpad ;-;)

if youre still here thank you sm for reading, i hope i didnt outdo ebony dark'ness dementia raven way with the descriptions lol

thoughts and comments are welcome! ill be taking a break for 2 weeks ish and will resume maybe then bc i have exams. see yall :)

Find the word

Thanks @winterandwords here!

Rules: post excerpts of your WIP that include the given words!

Wow, I'm finally doing this game where I just have one tag to go through! This shouldn't be nearly as long!

I'll ignore I don't say again like that to make it rhyme

Rain - from The Secret Portal Part One (Maddie POV)

As we came closer, I could see a chunk of metal about two feet in diameter. Only, it didn’t seem rusted at all. We’d talked about how oxygen reacted with metals and rusted them in science class, and I found it super cool but couldn’t remember if all metals rusted or not. This was either a normal occurrence or something irregular, and I didn’t know which one it was! Wait, maybe it had something to do with rain…. Does it rain here? Is that important!? Agh, it bothered me that I couldn't remember.

Mainly coming from me realizing a beginning of year sixth grader may not know this part of chemistry.

Pain - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

I tried to sit on the grass to contemplate everything when I hit something hard. I cried out in pain and shot up, rubbing the now-sore spot—feeling awkward even though no one was around. I turned to see what I hit and jumped when I saw millions of colors shoot up from the ground. I looked around and watched the endless field disappear from view.

Did you know in the previous draft, Lexi hit her head? Ouch.

Drain(ed) - from The Secret Portal Part Two (Ash POV)

With the couches, kitchen, and center of the living room all taken, all the kids were forced to sit in the corners. Hannah was practically in the hallway standing next to Reyna and Adrian’s daughter Rachel. Mikey was with Rachel’s brother Hunter sitting under the kitchen counter. And I stood in the corner with Amanda (Hunter and Rachel’s middle-sibling), and Charlie (Aurora and… Randall’s daughter). I felt trapped as the overload of conversations weighed on my ears. I had to focus my attempts to remember everyone’s name and relation all day, and I was drained. It didn’t help that I had to suppress my telepathic abilities, lest I go insane. My brain felt itchy. Too much information, almost.

Ash having an extended family gathering over here and is not enjoying it.

Again - from The Secret Portal Part Two (Maddie POV)

I rocked back and forth on my feet. Kelsey and Hye-Jin were running later than usual. I yawned to myself as I fiddled with Wilfredo in my hands. My tongue ran over my teeth, and I wished once again March would come sooner so I could get my braces off.

Wilfredo is Maddie's amigurumi tiger!

Alright that was a lot shorter. I miss this. I feel free.

Tagging @frostedlemonwriter @finxi-writes @sleepywriter00 @squarebracket-trickster @bookish-karina

+ ANYONE ELSE

Your words: swallow, forget, game, transition

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

[aria-upside-down]

A few Will Solace things (according to my personal opinion)

•His southern accent actually isn't super thick, even when he's tired. It's there obviously and much more noticeable when he's tired, but I think he's like me and it's not that big even though he definitely has one

•He likes lizards

•Trolli Sour gummy worms

•Bisexual disaster (same)

•lots of bracelets

•he also has anklets

•stubborn af

•can usually tell when people are lying, but he is surprisingly good liar himself despite his dad being the god of truth

[sunbabycentral]

Spent an obnoxious amount of time on picrew so I thought i would take the time to introduce all the sunbabies today !!

Find them all under the cut, and let me know who you like the best ♡♡

Anteros Morgan (15) Lowkey second in command, DEFINITELY second in command in the infirmary. Dating Malcolm Pace (Athena). Dealt with a lot of abuse from his mom until he ran away and got taken to camp. Your pop culture afficionado. Really, really, really, REALLY obnoxiously gay /hj. Very Cali Boy.

Will Solace (15): bisexual disaster. Really Too Tightly Wound. Hands shake and he glows when he's nervous. Can't shoot straight bc he isn't straight (/j). Dating Nico di Angelo (Hades). Tired Dad Friend. Very overbearing sometimes.

Melody Leclair (14): French lesbian princess. Too cool for you and Will tell you that. Very sassy in two languages. Fashion QUEEN. Dating Nova Godsey (Aphrodite). Very adorable thick accent, she will absolutely stab you if you piss her off.

Sohee Kim (10): everyone's favorite Baby Girl (TM). Originally from Korea. Little prankster and will use her cuteness for evil. Very much so someone you should not leave alone. Best friends with Dylan (Hebe). Nico's little shadow.

Austin Lake (12): musical genius, doesn't like fighting. Very chill guy, probably the chillest of everyone ngl. He's here for a good time and a long time. Thriving YouTube channel. Plays legit every instrument you can think of. Wills least problematic child.

Kayla Knowles (13): another bisexual disaster child. Wants to be an Olympic archer. Has two dads, and you can tell. Source of most of Will's headaches. Her hair has green bottoms but this picrew hates fun. Most likely to almost get herself killed (has happened twice). Has a crush on Alondra (Hermes)

Yan Li (16): from Hong Kong. Emo little shithead. Likes morning runs. Very bad at emotions. Very sassy though, loves to spend time with the littlest sunbabies. Athlete extraordinare. Older than Will because he was claimed late after Manhattan. Aroace king.

Gracie Atkins (11): Babiest of Baby Girls. Sweetest little button ever. Drags Will out of his comfort zone. Best swimmer in the cabin. Big mortal family so she's used to camp sizes. Loves Disney and musicals. Everything she owns is pink. Everything.

[firstprince-ao3feed]

hate to be lame (but I might love you)

by anincompletelist (soldouthaz) He can’t stop thinking about the fucking ankle. About what it represents. The sensuality of the muscles and tendons underneath the flesh, begging for the press of his fingerprints, the indention of his teeth, those same ankles crossed and pressed into Alex’s lower back, the sweet symphony of two bodies finding solace and pleasure in one another even if only until morning light breaks through the curtains. He wants to get fucked, basically. + newly out as bi, alex decides the best way to commemorate the occasion is to sleep with the biggest guy on campus. henry thinks he might be insane, and isn't quite sure what that says about him for being the one to catch feelings when this whole thing was just supposed to be practice in the first place. it all works out. eventually. Words: 45770, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Nora Holleran, Percy "Pez" Okonjo Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: alternating pov, Alternate Universe, College AU, friends with benefits (kind of), Bisexual Disaster Alex Claremont-Diaz, First Time, Sex Toys, Big Dick Henry, Phone Sex, Deepthroating, Masturbation, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Come Eating, safe sex, Consent, Barebacking, Belly Bulging, pretty sure this counts as, size queen alex, and also maybe, Soft Dom Henry, implied Nora/Pez, henry's dark days, see notes for more via https://ift.tt/POlENte

[loganically]

Characters that are Trans (Because I am Tran)

Note: These are all headcanons unless states otherwise!

CW: Creepypasta, Danganronpa, Harry Potter, IT, MHA

Jeremy Heere (A he/him trans guy)

Rich Goranski (a short, bisexual he/him trans guy. he will punch anyone who calls him a confused lesbian)

Eyeless Jack (doesn't understand the whole "label thing" but uses he/it pronouns)

Homicidal Liu (the angst I have behind this headcanon--he/they)

Leon Kuwata (the song sk8 boi is about him /j. uses they/he pronouns)

Mondo Owada (biker he/him trans guy)

Hajime Hinata (identity crisis 24/7 he/they)

Korekiyo Shinguji (he's only here because I project on him--he/him pronouns)

Dipper Pines (HE/THEY walking bisexual disaster. Both twins are bi and trans)

Ron Weasley (he's AFAB and ginny is AMAB. he is also pansexual and ginny is bi. Ron uses he/him)

Harry Potter (oh, how his aunt and uncle hate this. he/him)

Sirius Black (he/they, ever the family disappointment /j)

Remus Lupin (he is me, i am him. he/him)

Richie Tozier (read above)

Adrien Agreste (daddy issues trans masc)

Felix Fathom (issues trans masc)

Luka Couffaine (hairdye trans masc)

Marc Anicel (canon; genderfluid)

Kyoka Kiro (enby, actually, they/she)

Percy Jackson (because i said so. he/they)

Will Solace (his dad is apollo? there is NO WAY he is cisgender. he/him or they/them. depends on the day)

Alex Fierro (canon; genderfluid, often fem)

Loki (canon; genderfluid, often masc)

Larry Johnson (reminds me of my boyfriend, so of course he's here)

Sal Fisher (no one with blue hair is cisgender)

Bow (i am not explaining this. he/they)

Double Trouble (canon; non-binary)

Jewelstar (Canon; FtM)

Peekablue (Canon; GNC)

Oskar (it/they/he)

Lars (implied to be trans; not confirmed, he/they)

Shep (canon; non-binary, they/them)

Hunter Noceda/Deamonne/Wittebane/Clawthorne (he/him)

Luz Noceda (implied to be GNC--note; I HC her to be genderfluid. They mainly use she/they but somedays use she/he)

Raine Whispers (canon; non-binary, they/them)

Masha (canon; non-binary, they/them)

The Collector (canon; either demi-boy or non-binary, he/they)

Viktor Hargreeves (canon; FtM, either he/him or he/they)

[clavicuss-vile]

having such a hard time figuring out who my Hawke should romance. Originally in his early creation it was Anders, and then I decided on Fenris, and now i'm finally doing Solace's playthrough and Anders. But Fenris,,,, but Anders-

Solace is a classic bisexual disaster so this is totally in character for him bUT IT IS DEEPLY UNPLEASANT FOR ME

[aliceinunderw0rld]

Kalera introduction post

Name: Kalera

Age: 315+ (physically and mentally 15)

Hight: 3'1"

Orientation: Bisexual

Pronouns: she/her

origin story under the cut (tw for heavy relegious themes):

Millennia ago, when the chaos emeralds were new, all was peaceful. That was, until, the god Solaris had caught wind of the emeralds’ existence. Feeling himself entitled to their power, He challenged their guardian, Chaos, to them. A great conflict ensued, a conflict so great it threatened the fabric of the universe itself. Seeing no other way to quell the warfare; the followers of both Chaos and Solaris came together and forcibly split Solaris into two entities.

Solaris’s conniving, manipulative nature took the form of Mephiles, while his blind, undiscriminating rage and destruction took the form of Iblis. Both were sealed into septures and given to the followers of Solaris. While most of his followers had recognized that the god had overstepped his boundaries, a small group was appalled by the actions that had taken place. They believed Solaris, in his all holiness, was entitled to the power of the emeralds. This small subset would take hold of the septures and splinter off into two clans but not before threatening to reunite the two entities once the time was right.  

These two clans were, to put it bluntly, extremists. Among their various practices; they involved themselves in live sacrifices. But sacrificing petty criminals to such an awe-inspiring God is like giving scraps of tainted meat to a king. Solaris demanded something more, someone pure of heart, mind, and body. A Koba.

Kobas are not just a societal role, being a Koba is its whole identity. Those who are marked as Kobas are known only by that title. They do not have any outside relations, distinct personalities, opinions, wants, desires, dreams, interests, or personal identities. They simply exist to serve Solaris wholeheartedly until their final breath. Kobas undergo a procedure at birth where a small shard of the crystal is taken from the Sceptre of Darkness or the Sceptre of Disaster (depending on which clan they are born into) and placed into their bodies. This serves as their oath to Solaris. Once the Koba has come of age and the ritual has taken place; this crystal shard is taken from their lifeless bodies and reunited with the Sceptre and the cycle begins anew. The only solace for these poor souls is Sytomi Eletheria.

Sytomi Eletheria takes place twenty-four hours before a sacrifice is to take place. During this period, the Koba can go and do as it pleases. The only restriction is that they must come back to the temple at the end of the time limit to commence with the ritual.

Being a Koba also comes with the promise of a prosperous second life. This gives Kobas the hope to have a better, more freeing life than their current one.

Long ago, a baby was born, destined to die. Born to an impoverished family, all the two cats wanted was a child of their own. But alas, with the two up to their necks in debt, they had no way of supporting their soon-to-be-born baby. The only way out; give the babe up as a Koba. And just like that, all their mountains of debt disappeared as if they had never existed to begin with.  

The Koba grew up in a very isolated and dedicated childhood. Kept in a temple far from the rest of the clan, its only interactions were with temple maids until the Koba could groom and fend for itself. It was only taught how to read to study holy scriptures. This would, however, lead to the Koba’s one act of rebellion. Stashed underneath its bed, a collection of books filled with fantastical adventures is stored away from prying eyes. The Koba would read these books and fantasize about going on the adventures it would read about.

The Koba had yet to form any meaningful friendships until it was ten years of age. By that time, the voices and whispers of the crystal containing Mephiles were now more recognizable, nearly coherent. Soon enough it was able to have conversations with the fractured deity in its head. He humored it in its dreams and wished for its second life but ultimately pushed the Koba towards going through with the ritual. Mephiles would express his desire, no, his need to be whole with Solaris again. The Koba couldn’t help but feel empathy for the deity, the mind-numbing loneliness was starting to eat at them both.

A few years later, a string of natural disasters would hit the clan. This could only mean one thing: Solaris was getting impatient. While a ritual was only to take place once the Koba was of age, an exception needed to be made.

Before the Koba could fully grasp the gravity of the situation, the day of Sytomi Eletheria had come. While it had expected to spend the day alone, wistfully wandering the village, right as it had stepped into the city; a strange boy had approached it. He spoke to it with a sense of familiarity but somehow addressed it by the wrong name. “Kalera '' was a name the Koba had never heard of before but certainly liked the ring of it. It apologize, sure that the boy had mistaken it for someone else. The Koba tried to dismiss the boy but he insisted on spending time with it. “Sonic” he introduced himself. A strange name it thought but maybe this day won’t be as depressing with him around. He seemed to radiate positivity and the Koba liked that about him. The two spent the day together, exploring the village and talking amongst themselves. As the day was drawing to a close, The Koba started to realize its impending demise. This isn’t just, the Koba realized that, but what could it do? It was then Sonic had offered the opportunity of a lifetime, “Run away with me” he said. While the Koba was reluctant at first, it accepted. Unfortunately, fate did not smile upon them, they were cornered by the guards and taken into custody. The next day the sun had risen: The day of the ritual. Adorned in the ceremonial garb, The Koba had ascended the steps to the execution deck, scepter in hand. Right before the sacrifice was about to be completed, an earthquake hit. The architecture gave way and the village began to sink into the ground. The scepter, reacting in self-defense, enclosed itself and the Koba along with it inside a massive crystal where they would remain for the next few centuries.

Over three hundred years later, Doctor Ivo Robotnik uncovered the long-forgotten history of the Sceptre of Darkness and sought to find it and harness its power for his plans of world domination. His lifelong nemesis and thorn in his side, Sonic, was quick to stop him. Much to his chagrin. They had fought mid-excavation when the ground beneath them had suddenly given way. This opened up a chasm, revealing the long-forgotten village. While exploring the village, Sonic happened upon a massive crystal. When he realized that there was someone encased in it, he was quick to shatter the crystal and save the person trapped inside. It was a sleeping girl clutching a mysterious sculpture.

While attempting to take the girl back to civilization, Sonic tripped, causing the scepter to fall out of the girl’s grasp and down into a ditch. All Sonic could do was hope that the scepter wasn’t that important.

A few moments later, the girl had awoken in his arms, dazed and confused. Sonic had tried to pry for details about her only to realize she had no memory of who she was or what happened to her. When asked for her name, she thought for a moment before answering; “Kalera”.

Unbeknownst to both of them, the crystal within her body had grown and she had absorbed its powers, resulting in Crystallokinesis.

[intotheunkncnws]

𝚃𝙰𝚂𝙺 𝟸𝟻; 𝙽𝙴𝚇𝚃 𝙶𝙴𝙽.

                     TZEITEL ARNADALR.

the oldest child of elsa, tzeitel is the princess disaster. clumsy, awkward and shy, she prefers to stay in the background. of course with being the future queen that’s not likely. where as lachlan can control his powers with such ease and veracity, tzeitel struggles with her powers. she's found solace in ice skating. where she feels disjointed in her real life, she’s able to be graceful and articulate on the ice. 

inspired by : mia thermopolis ( the princess diaries ) ,  ami mizuno / sailor mercury ( sailor moon ) , serena baker ( spinning out ) ,  rory gilmore  ( gilmore girls ) , carrie ( carrie ) , violet sanford  ( coyote ugly )

𝙶𝙴𝙽𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙻

birth name. tzeitel şadiye arnadalr nicknames. n/a. date of birth.  january 21 age.    twenty-six. gender.   cis female. pronouns.  she/her. species.   human. powers.   water abilities gifted by the water spirit.  sexuality.  bisexual. place of birth.    arendelle, norway. current residence.   elias, california. occupation.    crowned princess of the enchanted forest / ice skater. 

𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴

height. 5'5" build. thin hair colour/style. brunette with a blonde streak ( x ) eye colour. blue piercings.  ears. tattoos. x. notable markings.  freckles. glasses/contacts ?  n/a. faceclaim.  deniz isin voiceclaim. deniz isin

𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙻𝚃𝙷

physical ailments.   asthma. allergies.   none. sleeping habits. loves sleep truly she does. exercise habits. ice skating. dominant hand.    right. drugs / smoke / alcohol ?  no / no / noo.

𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈

positive traits. regal, caring, convincing negative traits.  insecure, easily flustered, sensitive  usual mood.  embarrassed. likes.  any body of water, blueberries, reading under shady trees, picnics on the beach, late night swims, bubbles baths dislikes.  lachlan’s temper, being in crowded rooms, royal dresses, royal duties, parties, high heels, having attention on her bad habits.  often speaks before thinking. foot meet mouth

𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿𝚂

mother.    elsa arnadalr. father.      n/a. siblings.   lachlan arnadalr. children.   none. birth order.   oldest of two significant other.  could be you who’s to say closest friends. katrina skellington, ana sofia carrera, ben teague and this could be you !

𝚃𝙴𝚂𝚃𝚂

zodiac sign. aquarius  mbti. infp temperament.   melancholic. hogwarts house.   ravenclaw. moral alignment.  neutral good. 

𝚂𝙺𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚂 & 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚂

languages spoken.   english, turkish, northuldraian & norwegian drive ?     yes. jump start a car ?      no. change a flat tire ?     no. ride a bicycle ?     yes. swim ?    yes. play an instrument ?    yes. play chess ?   yes.. braid hair ?   yes. tie a tie ?          yes. pick a lock ?       no. sew ?     yes.

compassion.         9/10.

empathy.         8/10.

creativity.          8/10.

mental flexibility.          8/10.

passion.         8/10.

luck.         2/10.

motivation.  5/10.

education.          10/10.

intelligence.         10/10.

charisma.       5/10.

reflexes.          4/10.

willpower.          8/10.

stamina.          6/10.

physical strength.         7/10.

battle skill.          4/10.

initiative.     4/10.

restraint.         9/10.

strategy.       5/10.

team work.         8/10.

( pinterest, her tag, playlist. )

[seb-writess]

Shards of Glass

Pairings: Henry/Alex (Red, White and Royal Blue)

Tags: Rated teen, friends to lovers, 5+1 things, tw casual homophobia

Notes: hey hi how are you will never stop thinking about these two. this is set in a universe where Henry isn't a prince but his family is still unfairly rich so i still get to take all the angst

Summary: 5 times Alex and Henry get mistaken for a couple, and one time it's not a mistake.

Status: Complete (11,00 words)

Preview:

“You and Henry seem…abnormally close. You don’t act like friends, and I mean that as almost a compliment.”

Alex fights the frustration welling up in his stomach, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw hurts. The thing is, this isn’t the first time he’s lost out on a date because they’ve been threatened by what he shares with Henry. He doesn’t know what it is about their relationship that seems to scare people off, or make them think they’re not welcome around the duo. He feels more emotionally connected to Henry than to anyone else, but swears he doesn’t treat Henry any differently to how he would treat any other friend.

Except for the cuddles on the couch.

And the pet names.

And maybe he’s a little touchier with Henry than he is with Nora or his lacrosse teammates.

And okay, maybe he openly flirts with Henry more than necessary, but it’s so fun seeing Henry blush and seeing his cool facade crumble to dust in front of him, and it’s even more fun when Henry is feeling a little silly and flirts back.

…oh.

READ UNDER THE CUT

Alex and Henry met in their first year of university.

Alex, studying political and social science. Henry, doing a double degree in literature and international affairs. They got assigned the same dorm room. Henry walked in a day late (his flight was delayed and then his luggage got lost), and the first thing his blue eyes flew to was Alex doing one armed pushups in the space between their beds. Alex glanced up, arm shaking a little, and fixed Henry with what he hoped was a friendly grin.

The second thing Henry seemed to notice was Alex’s side of the room, already completely decked out in paraphernalia. He watched as Henry’s eyes grazed over his posters of bands, his bulletin board crowded with photos, and the three flags he pinned above his bed. Their university flag, the Mexican flag and…

“Is that the bisexual flag?” Henry asked, carefully hostile. He’ll later explain to Alex, he hadn’t meant it to sound so at all. He just wasn't used to being around other people; other people like him. And being able to make it known that he was also like them. He had expected different moving away from his family, and the expectations they had set for him. He just hadn't been expecting to walk into his dorm room and for it to smack him in the face.

“Yeah,” Alex said, standing up. He raised an eyebrow at Henry, already on the defensive. “Is that a problem.” It wasn't really a question, because Alex was about ready to make it a problem if necessary.

Henry seemed to fumble, stammered something and shook his head. “No! God no!”

Alex was about to call him out for being an over-sensitive prick who sounded like he was trying way too hard to make it seem like it wasn’t a problem, but instead he watched Henry dig through his bag and drag out an oversaturated rainbow flag and hold it up to Alex proudly, sheepish smile on his lips.

Alex’s face shifted back into what Henry came to know as his famous grin.

“Welcome to the pack!” Alex clapped him on the shoulder and dragged Henry further into the room.

They’ve been inseparable ever since.

Once.

The kind of friendship Henry has with Alex is the kind there’s no one word for. It’s cataclysmic, a natural disaster waiting to happen, and simultaneously the work of miracles. What they have in common outweighs what they don’t, but even what they don’t have in common they find solace in sharing with the other. Henry is immediately introduced to Alex’s sister, June, their mutual best friend Nora and adopted by the trio, no questions asked. He wakes up every day to a stream of texts in their group chat about Nora’s missing converses or should June get a dog.

They move through their courses almost in sync, despite taking completely different classes. They study together, break down together, pick each other up together. Alex takes Henry out to his dad’s lake house where they skinny dip at midnight and sing loudly and off-key around the campfire.

Henry takes Alex back to England and is dragged around like a tourist. Alex meets Pez and Henry’s sister, Bea. Both become honorary members of their group even from an ocean away.

The only thing they can’t seem to agree on is dating. As in, Henry doesn’t. Alex saw him go on a few dates his first weeks in the States, watched him hook up with a few guys at a few frat parties. Then…nothing. It’s like he suddenly took a celibacy oath.

“I can’t afford to be distracted. I am here on a scholarship, which depends on my grades first and foremost,” Henry had explained.

Alex admires Henry’s resolve, and is more than happy to deter any interested parties away for Henry’s sake.

Now they’re in their third year together. They moved out of the dorm rooms as soon as they could, to a little apartment thirty minutes from campus. Just far enough away for it to be affordable but not too far away so it’s more than one bus. It’s big enough to hold a few good parties a year, but not so small it’s crowded with both of them living in it. They're an equal distance walk between a cafe that makes excellent coffee and a 24-hour convenience store.

Their respective pride flags hang on the wall above the TV.

It’s the last night of Christmas break. Some would say this is the perfect time to unwind from holiday mode and begin to get ready for the coming semester. ‘Some’ are not Alex. He insists they go out, throws one of Henry’s more flamboyant shirts at him, and drags him out the door. They meet Nora and June at the club. A gay bar with the neon sign flashing Beat It above their heads as the bouncer let’s them inside.

It’s packed and thriving and Alex is bouncing on the balls of his feet.

They drink. They dance. They drink more. Alex is regretting wearing his loafers and not something with a bit more arch support. He hisses, looking at the blister forming on his heel when Nora and June come tumbling into him, both full of drunken laughter and finding it hard to form a complete sentence between them.

“Oh my god! Where’s Henry?” June is gasping for air, words barely audible, even without the loud, booming music. “We have to tell you guys what we saw in the bathroom!”

Alex cranes his neck to see over bouncing heads, trying to locate his friend. He finally spies the familiar head of golden tresses (and the alarmingly flashy shirt Alex made Henry wear) on the other side of the bar. He’s talking to someone. Someone who’s leaning in way too close. Alex can see the tension in Henry’s shoulders, the way he leans back, trying to ease himself out of the conversation.

“Hold up! Gotta run rescue!” Alex screams to the girls before making his way through the bar crowd towards Henry. Henry is definitely in trouble, if the tightly drawn way his eyebrows knit together is anything to go by, but he’s always been too polite to stand his ground and tell someone ‘no’ more than once.

Alex has no such manners.

“Hey!” He inserts himself into the conversation. He lays a hand on Henry’s shoulder, who immediately sags with relief under his hand.

The man who had been hitting on Henry is shorter than them both, kind of scruffy looking, and wearing pants so tight that they leave nothing to the imagination. Unfortunately. Alex can say confidently he’s not even Henry’s type, even if he had been interested. “Thanks for your interest in my boy, but we do not regret to inform you that the position of my boy’s boy has been filled.”

Too-Tights Man gives Alex a look of surprise, the smarmy look on his face wiped clean off. He pushes off the bar and takes a few steps back.

“Hey, sorry man! Didn’t realise he had a boyfriend!”

Henry stiffens under Alex’s hand. Alex laughs.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” he corrects. “He’s just not interested.”

Too-Tights Man looks between them, opening his mouth to say something, but Alex doesn’t give him the chance.

“Let’s go, sweetheart!” Alex steers Henry away and back toward their corner of the bar with June and Nora. They’re still giggling at whatever it is they discovered in the women’s room. Alex shakes his head, exasperated, but waits for them to calm down. It takes a moment and with the added bottle of champagne Nora is sharing between them, it seems like it’s going to take a moment longer.

Henry leans into Alex’s side while they wait.

“Thank you,” he says simply in Alex’s ear. Alex shivers, the contrast between Henry’s warm breath and the cranked up AC of the club getting to him.

He turns toward Henry. “Any time.”

Twice.

February 14th comes and Alex is loathe to be single. The semester has been kicking his ass, leaving him no time to search for a date. He couldn’t even fall back on Nora, who was away with her grandparents, probably saving a troubled nation from an economic crisis. He realises it borders on tacky to be upset about how single you are on Valentine’s day, but he’s a sucker for love, and not even having a crush to flirt with this time of year is leaving him feeling downer than he intended.

Henry, however, seems to be in his element.

“Don’t think of it as Valentine’s day then,” Henry reasons, unusually cheerful for someone who chooses to remain single. Alex’s frown hasn’t left his brow since he was dragged out of their apartment and into their favourite cafe. He makes a show of staring hard at the board while they wait in line, even though they frequent here enough to have the menu memorised. “Think of it as any other Tuesday.”

“Sad, single people say shit like that,” Alex grumbles.

“You are single and, from your expression, I can deduce you are sad.”

Alex groans and leers his frown at Henry. “I still don’t know how you do it.”

They shuffle up in line. “Do what?”

“Not date. I’m all for inner-peace and the like, but you don’t even like guys hitting on you at bars. The soccer team’s captain pretty much begged to take you out.” Henry rolls his eyes while Alex continues to prattle on. “I get why you don’t wanna date, but I don’t get how you can’t even want to find love.”

“I never said I didn’t want to find love.”

Before Alex can reply to that, pin Henry down and question exactly what he means, the chalkboard by the counter catches his eye. Someone (probably one of the art students trapped behind the counter while they fund their expensive hobby and their degree) has decorated the sign in fancy writing and cartoon interpretations of two muffins in love. What’s really interesting is the deal it advertisers in cursive, pink writing.

“Oh my god, Henry look!” Alex almost knocks Henry over as he thrusts his finger toward the sign. “They’ve got a deal for couples!”

Henry glances at the sign, snickering at the drawing.

“Alex,” he starts.

“Be my boyfriend!”

Henry’s words are completely sucked out of his mouth. “I beg your pardon?” Comes out instead, low and raspy. His face turns red again with the heaters pumping warmth into the cafe.

“Be my boyfriend! So we can get the free muffin!” Alex doesn’t wait for an answer, but takes Henry’s arm and cuddles against him, even going so far as to slot his chin over Henry’s shoulder, which is a lot of work considering Henry is almost a head taller than him. Henry stiffens, and Alex jabs him in the sides. “C’mon! At least act like I don’t repulse you!”

Henry doesn’t have time to argue as it’s their turn next. Henry turns bright red with embarrassment while Alex orders for them, making a show of nuzzling the side of Henry’s neck and letting sweetheart slip out quietly enough it should sound like it’s a secret but loud enough for the barista to catch. He might be laying it on a bit thick, but thick must work for him as the barista calls them a cute couple, and hands them their free muffin.

Alex cackles quietly as they head to find seats while their drinks are being made.

Henry is still bright red.

“You make a terrible boyfriend,” Alex comments, but tears the muffin in half anyway. Henry blinks at him. “Either you’re not a cuddles type, or you’re not an Alex type.”

Henry turns impossibly redder.

“You just surprised me!” He practically whines.

There’s a flurry of brown hair, a beige coat and a stack of files as tall as themselves when June finally joins them. She apologises in a panic, kissing them both on the cheek.

“I’m sorry I’m late! It was a mad house at the paper and then this other intern bummed all his weekend files off on me like I don’t have my own to go through! I’m going to need like five drinks to get through them, then five more to get through my own.”

Alex looks at her sympathetically. “Go get a free muffin! Do you need Henry to be your boyfriend? Fair warning, he sucks at it.”

Henry nudges Alex’s boot under the table with his own. Alex nudges him back.

June is busy studying the sign Alex was referring too.

“I definitely want the free muffin but why would I need Henry to be my boyfriend?”

“It’s for couples.”

June fixes him with an unreadable stare before bursting into giggles. Alex tries not to pout.

“What about thanking your little brother for the tip, huh?”

“Alex! You moron!” June straightens herself as her giggles trail off but don’t die down entirely. “It’s not for couples! How would they even police that?”

It’s Alex’s turn to stare wildly at her. Henry has his face turned away, his mouth hidden behind a gloved hand, but his shoulders are shaking.

June fights the urge to laugh at her brother again. “It’s a Valentine’s day promotion. You just have to buy two drinks! It says nothing about being for couples only.”

Alex twists around her to peer at the sign again, mouth falling open as he rereads the sign more thoroughly, mortified to see she’s correct.

“Really, Alex. If you wanted to take me out, you can just ask, love,” Henry purrs, before falling into hysterics with June. Alex really does pout, taking Henry’s half of the muffin for himself.

Thrice.

Half way through the semester, and Alex and Henry are on a plane to England.

It’s Henry’s brother's birthday and instead of having a nice family dinner or a garden party, and inviting Henry via Zoom like he normally does, he’s throwing an entire gala. Henry moaned when he got the invitation, whining that he just saw Phillip at Christmas and why does he have to see him again so soon. Like a true friend, Alex laughed at Henry’s pain. Then, as an even better friend, offered to come.

Henry looked at Alex, blue eyes wide with barely concealed hope. “You’d really come to this boring affair with me? You’d really save me like that?”

Alex shrugged. “Free booze.”

The gala isn’t terrible, Alex reasons. It could be worse. They might actually have to make nice with Phillip for longer than their anointed twenty minutes, but Phillip seems to be too busy keeping up appearances with literally everyone else. All the more, their preferences amongst the social circle always seems to be the topic of conversation that’s brought up first, rather than ‘how is university going’ or ‘how’s the polo team’ or literally. Anything. Else. No one can seem to look them in the eye either, or they ask extremely inappropriate questions under the guise of being 'supportive yet curious'. The kind of ‘supportive yet curious’ questions that come from being the only queer people in a room full of people who have never met one before.

They both find it far more enjoyable to isolate themselves to a corner of the room where they take turns going to the bar to bring back drinks and trays of tiny appetisers.

Alex is returning from his turn at the bar, when he catches Henry looking somberly into his champagne glass. He swirls the golden liquid around the bottom, but doesn’t seem to be seeing it, almost like by doing so he’s hypnotised himself.

“Hey, you good?” Alex asks. Henry looks up, almost shocked to see Alex there, and forces the smile back onto his face.

“Of course!”

Alex hands Henry his new drink. “You can tell me if you’re not.”

Henry sighs, seeming to crack a little, like he always does when it comes to his family. Alex hates seeing Henry like this. So weighed down by expectations he can never hope to meet. Expectations he doesn’t want to meet, and has made peace never reaching for, but will always feel guilty about anyway.

Henry says he’s unbothered by his family and their very snide and not-so-subtle remarks about him never giving them grandchildren. Or the offhand jokes, that are definitely not jokes at all, about Henry disgracing the family name. But Alex knows. Alex knows every time Henry has to visit, or take a phone call, it’s like he retreats inside himself. He never had a safe space growing up, so found a safe space inside himself, but it does horrible things to his eyes and his demeanour and his posture. Alex hates seeing it, but knows there’s not a whole lot he can do to help, besides being someone Henry can come home to when he feels ready to find that safety beside someone he trusts.

“I just feel terrible,” Henry starts, but seems to be having trouble continuing that train of thought.

“I told you those prawn cocktails looked off,” Alex says, giving Henry a shove with his shoulder. Henry doesn’t move, or lean into the touch. Classic signs of Henry getting ready to retreat.

“It’s not that,” he says, which Alex knew, but for once keeps his mouth shut about being right. “I feel terrible for bringing you.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad of a date!”

Henry looks to Alex, horrified. “That’s not what I meant either! God, Alex, I’m so sorry!”

Alex holds up his hands in surrender. “Chill! I know! I’m joking.”

Henry groans again. Alex gives up on fixing this with humour and settles for good ol’ fashioned communication.

“Is it Phillip and his ‘aversion’ to our ‘lifestyle choices’?” At least Phillip always gives him a fantastic excuse to use way too many air quotes.

Henry waves his glass at the room. “It’s the whole lot of them! I didn’t bring you here to make you feel bad about your sexuality, and I knew you wouldn’t be affected, because you’re a saint. Doesn’t mean it’s not totally unfair they feel they can say all those things, and get away with it because they’ve inherited three estates up in Essex.”

Alex shrugs. “You’re forgetting I come from Texas. It’s kind of, like, the mothership for people like that.”

“It still doesn’t make it okay.”

Alex can see Henry’s eyes, the flash of something defiant in them. It’s always there, amongst the anxiety and depression, and it gets larger every time. Alex is waiting for the day it shines as bright as he knows Henry can, if given permission, if given even half of a chance.

“I think you need to take your mind off this,” Alex says, taking the champagne out of Henry’s hand and placing their glasses on a nearby table. “Wanna dance?”

For a moment, Henry looks stunned. Like dancing together, two guys, in front of an entire party of people who have been making it a point to judge them for something they might do all night (something like dance together in front of them), is the worst suggestion ever. What a stupid suggestion. What a very Alex suggestion.

Henry laughs, eyes bright, that defiance burning brighter. He takes Alex’s hand and lets himself be led to the dance floor. Alex has his hand around Henry’s waist, their other hands clutched together, and Alex begins to sway them to the sound of the orchestra, until Alex very abruptly remembers he doesn’t know how to dance like this. He stumbles and trips and it makes Henry laugh harder. At least Alex is playing the role of distraction very well.

“Let me lead!” Henry commands. It’s his turn to take Alex’s waist, yanking him closer, and uses his weight to lead Alex in a simple four step waltz. At least Alex is a fast learner, and falls in time with Henry’s steps after only a few rounds.

Henry is glowing under the light of the chandelier, a little pink from all the champagne, but smile spread across his face as he gazes at Alex. Alex smiles too, so glad to see the Henry he knows and cherishes rising back to the surface, and grateful he hadn’t sunken too far.

The music slows, as do their steps, and the mood lightens. Alex presses his forehead to Henry’s, in a gesture that has become awfully familiar between them.

“Hey,” Alex calls softly. Henry seems to lean further into him.

“Hey yourself.”

The song finishes and they separate, carefully, slowly, peeling back from each other at their own pace. Alex suggests hiding in the gardens until it’s socially acceptable to say good night, when they can reappear like they’d been present the whole time. Henry gladly agrees. Their hands stay wound tight together as they make their way to the door.

“Good for you!” Someone calls to them. He’s burly, red faced, clearly drunk. “I can say I’m honestly shocked! It’s so good of Phillip to approve of you two! Good for you!”

Alex has to stifle his laugh with his free hand. Henry shoves him.

“Thank you, Sir Fitzpatrick,” Henry says, nodding politely. They move to leave, to let the comment slide and roll off their backs, their good mood not defeated so easily.

“So good of Phillip to approve of someone like him. Fantastic!”

Henry freezes, his expression freezing over. Alex begins to tell him to let it go, that he’s not offended, that it doesn't matter. Except it does, and Henry has found the thing that will finally crack him open. Except it’s nothing soft or broken that lays inside like they thought, but something that can no longer be shaped to whatever glass sculpture they’d hope Henry would fit.

Henry rounds on Fitzpatrick, eyes blazing, fists clenched and knuckles white in anger. “What exactly do you mean ‘someone like him’?” Henry demands.

Fitzpatrick seems to be taken aback. He mumbles, words unintelligible, champagne making a mockery of his already mockable excuse. “Oh, just. You know…”

Henry isn’t letting it slide. “No. I don’t know. Enlighten me. Why would ‘someone like him’ not be good enough? Is it because he’s not an Earl? Or a Lord? Or owns a company in Birmingham that runs on the souls of overworked, underpaid staff? Is it because he’s American? Is it because he’s brown?”

A few other heads have turned. Some bewildered. Some disapproving. Alex tugs on Henry’s hand.

“Henry, it’s fine!” He pleads.

“It bloody well isn’t!” And Henry turns back to Fitzpatrick. “You can make your snide comments about me and my sexuality and my life just fine, but I’m sick of you touching him! All you dignitaries talk about charity and nobility, but there’s nothing noble or charitable about you. The first time someone even remotely different shows up in your social circle, someone you can’t possibly best because they’re better than you in ways you can’t play at, you all seem to have a collective coronary and go for the knees.”

Alex is pretty sure he’s never heard Henry say so much at once in front of his family or his family’s friends. He’d be worried about the trouble this might get him in, if he wasn’t busy being so proud of him.

Phillip chooses that moment to show up, attempting to run damage control before things get out of hand, but Henry ploughs right over him. Which Alex is still very proud of him for.

“Happy birthday, Phillip, but I’m absolutely fucking done. Next time, if you don’t want me to make a spectacle of myself, maybe don’t talk about me like I am one. Surely your lives aren’t so boring that you can’t possibly find something else to gossip about other than which gender I’m fucking.”

Henry doesn’t wait for Fitzpatrick, Phillip, or anyone to pick their jaws off the floor before he’s storming out of the ball room, social acceptability out the window, and dragging Alex with him. Alex barely keeps pace, Henry’s legs are so much longer than his, and is panting when Henry finally stops in the foyer of the hotel. It’s nothing compared to Henry, whose chest is heaving like he’s treading water, eyes wild, and Alex can see the incoming panic attack taking the place of where his courage once was.

Their hands are still clutched together, and Alex takes over the job of getting them the hell out of there. He pulls Henry past the front desk and slips down a hallway, through a door marked ‘pool’ and is grateful to find it’s completely empty. It reeks of chlorine, but it’s also quiet and dim, the only source of light coming from the pool itself so it sends enchanting impressions of water dancing on every surface. Alex pushes Henry so he’s sitting down on a pool chair, taking the place beside him so their bodies are pressed together and Henry has something real to ground himself against.

He wraps an arm around Henry’s shoulders, and pushes his face into the crook of his neck.

“Breathe,” Alex orders, soft and quiet, his voice full of reassurance and the safety Henry needs. “Just breathe. In. Out. In. Out. There ya go.”

Alex continues to stroke Henry’s back, letting Henry clutch at his jacket, until his breathing evens out and his shaking ceases. It’s quiet. Alex is beginning to hear their heartbeats thundering in their chests and echoing off the pool walls. He doesn’t separate from his friend.

Alex is always happy to help with Henry’s panic attacks, to offer him anything from a distraction in the form of Mario Kart, soft words or just companionship while they wait for it to be over, but it’s always a toss up whether it’ll subside at all. Sometimes Henry can’t help but sink back inside himself so far he’s lost for days, and Alex can only offer a smile and constant mugs of tea while Henry works his way through it.

Thankfully, Henry seems to be coming back to himself faster this time, picking his head up off Alex’s shoulder and shoving a few stray tears away. “That was…”

Alex has a feeling he’s about to say something like ‘stupid’ or ‘rude’ or ‘uncalled for’, so Alex beats him to it.

“Awesome!” Alex shouts, voice echoing off the water. Henry looks at him, blue eyes wide, pink lips agape.

And he breaks into laughter. He tries to keep it quiet (it's tentative whether they're even allowed in here at night) but he wasted so much energy fighting his panic attack, the only place for his laughter to go is out and loud.

"It was rather… invigorating," Henry manages to rasp through his giggles. Alex grins at his friend, the laughter infectious. "Phillip is going to have my head for this."

Alex reaches up to ruffle Henry's hair. Henry bat's his hand away.

"Nah, your head is too pretty for that," Alex says casually. The heat of the room seems to turn Henry's face bright red. "It'd be a waste."

It's quiet between them again. Alex can feel Henry gathering his thoughts.

"Thank you. For everything."

"Hey, that was all you."

"But I never would have had the courage to do something like that without you."

Henry is looking at Alex like he's seeing entire constellations; something spectacular and permanent and not to be touched. Alex grins.

"What are best friends for? You know I'll always have your back."

As if to prove his point, he loops his arm around Henry's shoulders and squeezes their bodies closer together.

The Fourth Time.

Her name is Janie and she’s cute and spunky and can handle Alex when he gets into one of his overly passionate rants on voter suppression. They met outside of his class, Alex having sprinted around the corner too fast to see her, causing her to drop her mountain of books and papers. He’d been really late too, but had still stayed to help her collect her things, and ask for her number with the promise of buying her coffee to make up for it.

They’ve been flirting back and forth for a week. Alex will send her embarrassing mirror selfies while brushing his teeth, hair still mussed from sleep, coincidentally shirtless, despite the still frosty mornings. She’ll send back jokes and photos of her dog and her own embarrassing selfies while she’s in the library, hair in a messy bun and drowning in text books.

It’s so easy, and Alex is giddy with the anticipation of finally asking her on an official date.

They’re busy discussing which is the best Star Wars film (she has a thing for the newer ones, but Alex thinks he can look past that), messages flying back and forth while Alex is sprawled across the couch. His American history paper is also sprawled around him, but he’s otherwise too preoccupied to care about its looming due date.

The apartment door slams open, boots stomping through the entrance hallway and into the living area, Henry grunting in frustration as he rips off his shoes. He lets out something of a growl as he flops against the end of the couch. His hands are in his hair and Alex has never seen Henry so deconstructed.

“Woa, you good?” Alex asks, texts to Janie momentarily forgotten.

Henry lets out a very long, very loud sigh through his nose, but ultimately remains quiet.

“Is it family shit?” Alex tries again.

“For once, no,” Henry gives. “At least not entirely. Lazy group members, guidance counsellor meetings, and I think my professor is hitting on me. Plus Phillip.”

Alex whistles. “Do you need a hug?”

Henry shakes his head, looking pained as he forces the scowl from his face. It doesn’t stop Alex from putting his phone away and shuffling closer on the couch. There’s a lot of Henry to hug, so Alex uses his arms and legs like he’s seen koalas do. Henry grunts, but his chest shakes with suppressed laughter. Alex can feel Henry lightening in his arms.

“Thank you, Alex. I appreciate it,” Henry says, carding a hand through Alex’s curls like he has a thousand times before. When Alex falls asleep on his lap on the couch or puts his head down on the desk during a particularly frustrating assignment. It’s just as comforting and familiar as Alex’s hugs are to Henry.

Alex tips his head up so he can look at the strong angle of Henry’s jaw. “Movie night?”

Henry peers down at him. “Please!”

Henry trots off to shower and change and line up their movie selection while Alex jogs down to the convenience store on the corner for terrible microwave pizza slices and their weight in chips and soda. Or crisps and pop, as Henry will still call them.

He comes back, arms heavy with bags of food, and Henry already looks far more relaxed. He’s in an old sports jersey and boxers, hair wet and cheeks still pink from the shower. Alex looks at the TV.

“Titanic? Again?”

“You said it was my choice! You don’t get to complain!”

“Yeah, but I thought you were gonna go for something cool! Like John Wick!”

Henry takes a bag from Alex and digs out the cans of Dr. Pepper. “Titanic is cool!”

“I don’t see Leo getting naked for the camera,” Alex mutters. Despite his whining, Alex genuinely does appreciate a good love story, so takes his place next to Henry and saddles up to hold Henry when he inevitably breaks down crying during the last twenty minutes. Then a thought occurs. “Wait, wait! I gotta send this to Janie!”

Henry rolls his eyes but dutifully lets Alex pose them in the camera’s frame. Alex spends some time fixing his hair and aligning his shirt, figuring out the best angle. Then Alex pulls Henry close, arm firm around his waist, and Henry slides closer so their faces are pressed together. Alex counts down from three, and Henry turns his face at the last minute to lick a strip up Alex’s cheek. The picture captures Alex’s laughter and Henry’s mischievous look.

“Jokes on you! You made me look even better!” Alex says proudly while he types out a caption for Janie.

Movie night with my favourite person.

The whooshing noise of the message being delivered sounds. Alex puts his phone away and turns his attention back to Henry.

—

Messages from Janie turn sparse. What had been a constant chain of messages and quips and gym selfies have turned to polite how’s your day been? Followed by one worded answers. Alex can’t pinpoint where it went wrong.

“It’s simple. She finally figured out you’re a two for one deal and didn’t want the added baggage,” Nora comments, having scanned Alex’s messages for only a few moments. “The messages drop off after that photo with you and Henry.”

Alex scoffs. “This is because of Henry?!”

Henry, at least, looks partially guilty, even as he tries to hide his face behind his laptop.

“We’re friends!” Alex says, like he needs to make it known.

Nora looks amused. “I know, so you’ve insisted before. Why don’t you go tell her that?”

Nora gestures with her jaw over Alex’s shoulder. He and Henry swivel in their chairs. Alex spots Janie joining a study group over on the other side of the library. Alex is suddenly filled with frustration, as opposed to the dashed hope that had been slowly filling his stomach the past few days. He doesn’t hesitate, almost kicking his chair over as he launches himself out of it and strides across the room.

“Can we talk?”

Janie looks surprised to see him, her friends darting curious glances back and forth between them. She presses her lips together before giving a tight nod and following him into an aisle of books.

“Look, I’m sorry I’ve been a bit distant. I’ve just been busy,” she immediately starts with excuses.

Alex tries not to look angry, and fights the urge to remind her she didn’t seem to have a problem texting him last week when they were both just as busy. Hell. They were probably even busier.

“Can we just cut to the chase? Is this because of Henry?”

She looks taken aback, and Alex might think Nora had read it all wrong for once, if it weren’t for her floundering words and darting eyes, her’s no longer able to meet his. Alex begins to groan, and then remembers this is a library, and doesn’t want to get them kicked out, so he lets out a harsh breath of air instead.

“I’m sorry if I mislead you, but you mislead me too!”

“What does that mean?”

“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend! I won’t judge if you two are open, but I’m solidly monogamous! I just didn’t know how to tell you I’m not into being part of a love triangle.”

Alex carefully takes in her words, before a smile cracks his face almost in two at the feeling of relief rushing through him.

“You thought I was with Henry? No! He’s my best friend! He doesn’t even date.”

This, for some reason, doesn’t seem to fill Janie with the relief Alex had thought it would.

“Are you sure?”

Alex laughs at this. “Am I sure Henry isn’t my boyfriend? Pretty sure!”

“You call him sweetheart.”

“I’ve always called him sweetheart. ‘Cause he has a sweet heart.”

Janie seems to take a moment to appraise Alex, like she’s truly trying to catch him in a lie. Alex waits patiently, knowing he has nothing to hide nor nothing to defend. She finally shifts her eyes to her feet, but her expression doesn’t change, almost like the truth is even more disappointing than her original assumptions.

“You and Henry seem…abnormally close. You don’t act like friends, and I mean that as almost a compliment.”

Alex fights the frustration welling up in his stomach, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw hurts. The thing is, this isn’t the first time he’s lost out on a date because they’ve been threatened by what he shares with Henry. He doesn’t know what it is about their relationship that seems to scare people off, or make them think they’re not welcome around the duo. He feels more emotionally connected to Henry than to anyone else, but swears he doesn’t treat Henry any differently to how he would treat any other friend.

Except for the cuddles on the couch.

And the pet names.

And maybe he’s a little touchier with Henry than he is with Nora or his lacrosse teammates.

And okay, maybe he openly flirts with Henry more than necessary, but it’s so fun seeing Henry blush and seeing his cool facade crumble to dust in front of him, and it’s even more fun when Henry is feeling a little silly and flirts back.

…oh.

“Oh.” Alex stiffens, his arms falling where they had been crossed defensively over his chest.

Janie looks up at him.

“Oh,” she agrees.

Alex doesn’t speak. He can’t find the words. Janie only gives him another apologetic look before walking away and leaving Alex alone amongst the books.

The Fifth Time.

Alex doesn’t know what to do with this new realisation. At first, he figured he would just reduce his apparently overly affectionate mannerisms for Henry, but more than a habit too hard to break, it’s like an addiction Alex doesn’t want to quit.

Henry’s hair is soft in his fingers when he absentmindedly reaches up to swipe through blonde strands on his way into the kitchen. Henry is warm on top of him when they both end up horizontal on the couch while watching reruns of Ru Paul’s Drag Race. Alex doesn’t want to give up the familiarity of lounging on Henry’s bed, enjoying that feeling of being alone but together, and falling asleep beside him even though his own perfectly good bed is across the hall.

From an outsider perspective, he can also see how this might have been throwing off anyone who might be showing interest in either of them, but then Henry smiles at him across the table, looking up from his book report, and it makes Alex’s whole day better. So maybe it can stay a them problem and Alex and Henry can remain the us problem.

Ultimately, it becomes a him problem, when one night Alex comes home from a particularly brutal study session in the library, and catches Henry grinning at his phone with shining eyes and pink cheeks. It stops Alex cold. He recognises that look, despite having not seen it on Henry’s face in a long time.

“Who’s the guy?” Alex tries to play it cool, tries to swallow the pebbles growing in his gut. His voice comes out sounding like gravel anyway.

It takes a few moments for Henry to stop grinning at his texts and to glance up at Alex. “Are you sick?”

“Don’t change the subject.” His voice sounds veritably normal this time.

Henry is still grinning. He shrugs, flippant. Curiosity burns Alex alive.

“Just someone.”

Alex makes a show of wrapping himself around Henry and peering over his shoulders.

“Tell me!” He whines, pleads, tries to look at Henry’s phone even as he hurriedly locks the screen.

“I will if you get your cheeto breath out of my face!”

Alex purposefully huffs right into Henry’s nose.

“What did you eat?” Henry laughs, finally managing to escape Alex’s grip. “Do you need gum? A dentist’s appointment maybe?”

“If you’re not careful, I’ll use it as a weapon against your boy!”

“He’s not my boy!”

Disappointment floods Alex like a cold shower, and he doesn’t know why. “But there is a boy.”

Henry smiles, sheepish, scratching his neck.

“Nora introduced us.”

Dammit Nora!

Henry continues. “It’s nothing yet. It was just coffee.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Alex says, trying his damndest to sound happy for Henry.

Henry takes a moment to respond. “I hope so.”

And he does sound hopeful. So hopeful, Alex immediately feels guilty for even thinking this might be a bad thing. Henry deserves someone special, someone to look after him when his family becomes too much or he’s facing writer’s block.

Alex gives Henry a congratulations, and excuses himself to shower and change, forcing himself to ignore the sudden weight in his chest that has nothing to do with his schoolwork.

—

Alex meets him. Martin. Also British, also from a family of high society and good breeding. He’s good looking and funny and smart. Alex hates him, irrationally so, and he recognises he’s wasting his time trying to find a reason he’s not good enough for Henry, because there’s no reason to be found. It’s like he was tailor made to slip into Henry’s life and court him without resistance. He might even be someone Henry’s family would even approve of.

Alex sneers at the thought.

June gets him alone after their group dinner, and asks in a quiet and concerned voice if he’s okay.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He fires back, maybe a little harsher than necessary.

June is too nice to pay it any mind. “Just checking in, baby bro. I know what it’s like to have a broken heart and have to pretend you don’t.”

Thing is, Alex is dangerously close to figuring out what she means, and he doesn’t want to. He’s spent years ignoring it, spent years not even noticing. Why does it have to be now?

“I’m fine, Junebug.”

She must be really worried about him for her to let him call her Junebug.

—

It continues like this for weeks. To Alex’s credit, he does a damn good job of pretending he likes Martin, even though he takes every excuse available to not be around him. He might even, pettily, put on display exactly how friendly he and Henry are together, because he refuses to give that up for anyone. Martin doesn’t even bat an eye, compliments their bond, and says it reminds him of his relationship with his own brother.

Alex wants to kick him in the teeth.

It’s late, semester is ending, and Henry has been out with Martin all night. Alex tries not to stay up just as late wondering why that might be or what they’re doing or if Henry is enjoying it because, as he reminds himself for the thousandth time, it’s none of his business. Alex sits on the kitchen counter, one of Henry’s cornettos melting over his fingers, glaring into the darkness of the room.

He’s never been jealous over Henry before, because he’s never had to be jealous over Henry before. Henry dated so briefly in their first year Alex barely remembers it, and after became focused on his studies and his family and his friends. Alex always admired that side of him, the side that could prioritise, and felt special he was one of those priorities.

Now, he might be becoming second best to him and Alex doesn’t want to think about why that bothers him so much.

Alex shoves the rest of the cornetto in his mouth, and proceeds to choke on the cone.

As he’s finished diving for water from the kitchen sink and clearing his throat of stray wafer, he hears the apartment door open and close. Careful footsteps as leather boots trudge down the entryway. Henry pulling his coat off in slow, careful movements. Sniffling.

“Are you crying?”

Henry cries, lunging for the entryway light. “Jesus, Alex, you scared me!”

He breathes a sigh of relief upon realising it’s just Alex who’s weird enough to break into their kitchen and eat cornettos in the dark. Sure enough, his shoulders are hunched in a guarded way and his eyes are rimmed red. His hair is a mess. His clothes only look half put together, which for Henry, is so grossly uncharestic of him, Alex can’t help but zero in on the red marks on his exposed collarbone.

Alex waits for Henry to calm his racing heart, run a hand through his already tousled hair, and try in vain to wipe the more tragic tears from his cheeks.

“What the bloody hell are you doing up in the dark in the middle of the night?”

“Answer my question first!”

Henry looks sheepish at first, like Alex caught him doing something he’s not meant to, then he just looks tired. He stops trying to wipe away his tears.

“It’s just been a long night.”

Alex gazes at Henry, at the tired slope of his shoulders, at his all but torn look, the one he wears on his clothes and on his features. The distraught look in his eyes. It’s almost as bad as when Henry comes home from seeing his family, like he’s been forced to do something he doesn’t want to.

Alex feels his heart lurch in his throat and his stomach churn.

“I’ll kill him.”

Henry meets Alex’s eyes now. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll fucking kill him! What did he do to you?”

“Alex.”

“Actually, don’t tell me. Save it for the police.”

“Alex! Geez, shut up!” Henry has his hands on Alex’s shoulders, like Alex is the one who needs to be comforted. “Nothing like that happened. It was all very consensual.”

Alex goes between wanting to feel relieved and wanting to feel sick. It’s a good thing it was ‘very consensual’, Alex tells himself. Then he realises that shouldn’t explain why Henry looks like he just crawled out of a well after seven days.

“Was is that bad?” Alex asks, meaning it as a joke. To his surprise, Henry looks down at the floor before giving a defeated nod.

“I’m tragic. Truly tragic,” he says. Henry moves around Alex into the kitchen, turning on the light there too, and digging for a cornetto of his own. Alex leans against the counter, waiting for him to continue. Henry finds his cornetto, but he stands there with it in his hands, like he’s waiting for it to magically turn into the answer he seems to be searching for. Then he turns to Alex with so much pain in his eyes it takes Alex’s breath away. “Have you ever loved someone so much you're sure it will damn near tear you in two to keep loving them?”

Alex can say he hasn’t.

Henry continues. “He was the first one I’ve felt anything like that for in so long. I was so excited. And I was excited I was excited. And you can see how that might spiral. I was so caught up in it I didn't stop to think if it could even go anywhere.”

“C’mon! So you guys had some bad sex,” Alex tries for light and airy, despite wanting nothing more than to convince Henry to kick him to the curb and never see him again. But he’s not done not addressing why he feels like that. “It happens! Get back on the horse!”

“No, I don’t think there’ll be another go,” Henry says definitively.

“I’ve never known you to be one to give up after the first try.”

“Alex.”

“You’re an amazing guy, Henry, you deserve it! Cut yourself some slack!”

“Alex.”

“I’ll be your character witness! I’ll make you sound so good he’ll be begging to give you a second chance!”

“Alex. I said someone else’s name.”

Alex forgets how to breathe. “Like…during?” Which is a stupid question because when else is Henry going to sound someone else’s name when it might be that awkward.

“Yes. During,” Henry confirms.

“Well. Shit.”

Despite himself, Henry smiles. “Bit of an understatement.”

He shrugs, and dumps the cornetto in the sink, apparently deciding he doesn’t want ice cream.

Now Alex has several thousand conflicting emotions running through his head, but he forces them all into the recesses of his mind, focusing on his friend.

“Naturally, he thought I was cheating on him and kicked me out.” Cornetto forgotten and now wanting to forget the entire night, Henry slowly moves towards his room, murmuring as he does. “I suppose it’s par for the course. Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor breaks his own fucking heart.”

Alex wants to follow and hold Henry together like Henry has always held him, but as he looks at the damning evidence around him, he realises there may be too many shards of glass in front of him to know what to do with.

Plus One.

It’s a few days later when Alex is woken up from a really good nap on the couch by the sound of a camera shutter, Nora leering over him, phone in hand, snapping away at he and Henry knotted around each other.

“I have got to take your key off you,” Alex says, pushing himself up a little, but ultimately forced to remain still while Henry naps away.

“Don’t take my fun away from me!” She cheers.

Alex makes a face and a gesture at her to keep it down. Henry sniffs against Alex’s chest, but doesn’t move.

“He hasn’t been sleeping very well lately,” Alex yell-whispers, probably just as loud as Nora was being. “Let him rest a little longer.”

Nora smiles fondly at them. “Shall I go pick up treats for the sleeping beauties?”

Alex rolls his eyes. “I’ll do coffee if you do chips and guac.”

They manage to manoeuvre Alex out from under Henry without disturbing him. Alex wraps him in a blanket before collecting his keys and wallet and making his way down the street toward the coffee shop. It’s been warming up slowly, perfect jeans and sweater weather, which is Alex’s favourite time of year.

He looks damn good in jeans and sweaters.

The line at the shop is ridiculously long for a Tuesday afternoon, but Alex takes his place and entertains himself on his phone while the barista slowly moves through everybody’s orders. The level of candy crush kicking his ass doesn’t hold his attention for long before he’s people watching instead, which means he catches the eyes of someone all too familiar he all too doesn’t want to see.

Henry hasn’t spoken about Martin since he came home that night, and Alex was very happy to never bring him up. Alex is hoping he’ll turn away awkwardly like Alex is doing, but when Alex scans the room out of the corner of his eye, Martin is still looking at him. Glaring even.

Alex politely nods, maturely, rather than giving him the finger.

He’s moving up in line when Martin gives up trying to get Alex's attention, and walks across the cafe to him instead. Alex eyes him, lifting a brow.

“Can I help you?”

It’s not like they’d been close, Alex making damn well sure of that.

“Well, I kind of wanted to discuss something with you,” Martin says, angry look still on his features, though Alex gives him credit for at least trying to look un-intimidating.

“With me?”

Martin nods.

Alex wants to say no, get fucked, see you in the next life if I don’t kill you there first, but has to remind himself Martin hasn’t done anything wrong. It just feels like it. So Alex maturely swallows his more violent answers and nods insteads.

He orders first then moves to Martin’s table. He figures if he gives Martin enough time until his order is ready, then not-so-politely excuses himself, he’d have been big enough of a person to feel good about himself, and not so rude that any part of himself might feel guilty for it later.

“What’s this about?” Alex asks, only half sitting in his seat.

“I’m sure you heard what happened between Henry and I.”

“Yeah.” Yes, of course, he’s my best friend, he tells me everything. “And?”

“And, after some consideration, I’ve found I really would like to see him again.”

Alex has been busy, so he hasn’t had time to address why words like that make him unreasonably angry. This is what Henry would want. It’s a good thing. It’s a good thing. It is!

“What has that got to do with me?” Alex asks, more vehemently than Martin really deserves.

“Because first, I want to make sure there’s absolutely nothing between you two.”

Usually, Alex would throw up his hands in annoyance. Probably yell a ‘not this again!’. Maybe get up and walk away because he’s sick of answering this question, but something stops him from doing any of that, and instead he feels like those shards from before are a little clearer.

“Why would you need to ask me that? You know Henry and I are just friends.”

Who is he trying to convince? Martin or himself?

“Well, considering ‘that night’, I feel I have a right to ask.”

“Again, what has that got to do with…” Martin seems to be waiting for Alex to finish, but Alex is too busy having an epiphany.

Me. Me! He said my name? He said my name!

Alex is fighting to keep the grin off his face, as he’s seeing it all so clearly. His jealousy and rage over Martin, having nothing to do with his protectiveness of his friendship with Henry. Well, maybe a little, but more to do with how much he wanted that friendship to be more. He should have known, did know, his quirks and private jokes and ‘casual’ flirting would throw people off, whether they were interested in Henry or interested in himself, and he hadn’t done a thing to stop it.

It was so much easier to blame the other party for feeling so threatened by them, rather than address why he wanted them all to dump him in the first place, so he could keep being that way with Henry. He was the one doing all the dating, Henry having remained out of the scene for the majority of the time he’s known him. Alex hadn’t ever felt the jealousy he did toward Martin. Hadn’t needed to figure out why he might be.

It’s all been there from the beginning, and it’s getting on the side of ridiculous to keep ignoring it. Maybe he should be having far more of a crisis over realising he’s meant more to Henry this whole time than Henry ever thought to let on, but Alex feels buzzed. Elated. Light. He feels like he’s just won the lottery, or just been named president of the United States. All that, but better.

“Oh.”

Martin gives him a puzzled look. “Excuse me? Oh? What does that mean?”

Alex doesn’t answer him. “I gotta go.” Alex leaps from his seat and heads toward the door, his order forgotten entirely. He backtracks only to say to Martin, “But I don’t think it’s a very good idea to go for a second chance with Henry. He probably won’t be very available.”

Martin looks like he wants to argue, but Alex is hurrying out of the cafe before he can.

Henry is in the kitchen when Alex bursts through their apartment door. He’s sipping tea from a mug with a beagle on it, a mug Alex bought him, because Henry had been feeling homesick and missing David. Alex had seen the mug and thought it was the greatest thing to gift Henry at the time. Maybe friends buy their friends mugs when they’re feeling down, or maybe Alex has loved Henry from the beginning too and everyone in the world knew it except him.

“Welcome home, dear,” Henry says. He means it as a jibe, a way to poke Alex in the ribs, playing to their private joke (that’s not very private, to be honest). “Good day at the office?”

Except it makes Alex’s heart beat so fast in his chest it almost hurts.

He crosses into the kitchen in only a few strides, wraps his fingers in the short hairs at the base of Henry’s skull, and kisses him. He feels Henry inhale against him, sharp and short. Warm tea falls from his tipped mug and onto their feet. Henry’s knuckles are white around the handle, but his hands are shaking. Then he’s fumbling to put the mug somewhere safe before soft hands are on Alex’s cheeks and holding him close while Henry finally kisses him back.

Alex’s shoes and pants are soaked with tea. They’ve been dating five seconds and already made a mess, but Henry smells like spring and home and everything Alex has ever wanted. He kisses like Alex is made of rose petals, delicate but so passionate, wanting to embrace all of its beauty but do no harm. Alex pushes Henry against the kitchen counter, his arm going around Henry’s waist, and opens his mouth.

Henry turns greedy, and Alex is more than happy to oblige.

The hands pressed gently to his cheeks turn to clutching fingers in his hair. The soft, careful breathing turns to whimpers on his lips.

They have years of this to catch up on, and they seem to be determined to do it all right now.

Except their apartment door opens and closes, Nora coming stomping back in. Henry pulls away, suddenly looking surprised and flummoxed and maybe a little confused. He tries to make space between them but Alex doesn’t let him, only kissing him again, just as firmly, just as sweet. There’s no confusion here. No talk of ‘is he sure’ or ‘maybe you should think about this’.

Henry takes his answer and swallows it.

“Gross! I make food in here!” Nora dumps her convenience store hall on the opposite counter.

Alex finally parts from Henry with a wet sound. Henry’s lips are pink and shiny and so, so tempting.

“When you’re done mopping up your mess, I’m putting Madagascar on,” Nora says, giving them a knowing smirk (all her smirks are but this one is particularly knowledgeable), and leaves the kitchen.

It finally hits Alex that Henry’s tea is soaking his sneakers. It’s very uncomfortable. Henry grabs a towel and a dish cloth.

“Um, that was. I mean.” He’s bright red and looking anywhere but at Alex.

“Good?”

When Henry finally does look at Alex, his eyes are wide and watery, pools of blue Alex has gotten lost in so many times before and not bothered to think that maybe that’s not what ‘just friends’ do.

“Fucking incredible,” Henry says on a breathy laugh.

“Good.” And Alex kisses him again.

He eventually does help clean up the mess he helped make, takes off his shoes and hurries into his room to change his pants. Nora is deep into the opening of her movie and a packet of potato chips, Henry beside her still in his PJs. Alex doesn’t hesitate to take the seat beside Henry, intertwining their fingers, and presses as close to Henry as Henry will let him.

Which is pretty close.

June joins them halfway through the movie.

“Henry and Alex are boyfriends.”

Alex wants to hiss at Nora for getting to tell June before he can, but Henry has taken to leaning his head on Alex’s shoulder and he’s really comfortable. In a new way.

“Like that’s new information,” June responds, dumping her work with a loud thump by the entrance and taking a spot on the floor between Nora and Henry’s legs.

“Yeah but like, now they know too.”

June twists around to look up at Alex and Henry properly, now noticing the way Henry is a little too happy to be leaning against Alex. How tightly Alex holds Henry’s hand. The smile Alex can’t seem to get to leave his face.

“Oh, good for you two. How does it feel being the last to know?”

Alex asks Henry to kick her for him. Henry doesn’t because he’s too polite and perfect, so Alex tells June he owes her one.

—

Nora and June take Henry’s room and Henry and Alex bunk up in Alex’s. This isn’t exactly a new arrangement, something they’ve always done when it’s too late for the girls to take the train back to their own dwellings. It’s only different now that Alex and Henry do a lot more behind closed doors.

Henry is breathless underneath Alex, unable to get close enough to Alex to do what he wants while being literally pressed against him. Alex teases Henry’s tongue with his own and moans. He knows there’s not a lot more that’s going to happen tonight, both too tired (physically and emotionally), but Henry tastes like microwave popcorn and red vines and feels like everything familiar in Alex’s life.

It’ll take them months of this to feel like they’ve found all their lost time, but Alex is very much willing to find it all with Henry.

It’s late, going on one in the morning. They stopped making out a while ago, but haven’t bothered to close their eyes and wait for sleep, too wired up on each other. Alex has his arms wound around Henry. Henry has his chest pressed to Alex’s and fingers wrapped in the back of his sleep shirt. Alex is busy counting the specks of green in Henry’s eyes. Every time he blinks he has to start again.

“So, not that I’m at all complaining,” Henry starts, voice soft in the night, like he’s scared if he makes any sudden sounds or movements, he’ll scare away whatever this is. “But…why?”

“Why did I kiss you?” Alex starts. “Or why did I take so long to figure out how I feel about you?”

“Both.”

“I kissed you because I love you. And I didn’t realise I loved you for so long because…” He wants to say it’s because he’s an idiot, but knows that doesn’t really scratch the surface. “I don’t have a good excuse.”

Henry slides his hand up and down Alex’s back, a gesture so comforting Alex already feels himself falling apart in Henry’s arms. It’s a strange sensation; trusting someone so much to break in their arms, knowing they’ll hold all the shards until you’re ready to put yourself back together.

“You don’t need to have an excuse, Alex. You have no idea how unbelievably happy you’ve made me tonight.”

Alex slides his own hands under Henry’s shirt and strokes the soft skin he finds there. So soft. Like how is Henry real soft.

“Can I ask,” Alex starts, being just as careful in the dark. “Why you didn’t tell me? I mean, I can’t say for sure if I would have agreed at the time, I’m kind of slow if you hadn’t noticed.” That makes Henry laugh. “But I feel like I would’ve wanted to try.”

Henry is still rubbing Alex’s back. He takes his time thinking about his answer.

“Because I think I knew, or suspected, you might love me back, but there were two parts of me and neither agreed with it. One said that was only wishful thinking, the other convinced me you’re too good for me, so why bother? You’ll move on and find someone else and I’ll have been better off for never even having tried.”

Alex has always known Henry has the biggest fucking heart on the planet. It’s why sweetheart turned into a term of endearment and not just a name he’d use to poke fun at Henry. When Henry bares himself like he is now, it feels like it would take all of Alex’s strength to hold him together. There’s just so much of him he leaves open to fall to pieces.

“Can I ask now, what changed your mind? You came in rather suddenly. Not that it wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Alex grins and slides forward on the pillow to kiss Henry’s lips. It’s dark, so his aim is off, and he gets the corner of his mouth instead. He can still feel Henry’s smile anyway.

“I ran into Martin at the cafe.” Henry’s soft notions stop abruptly. “He asked if there was anything going on between us, because he wanted to try for a second chance with you.”

“So, he made you jealous?” Alex can hear the sigh of relief underlying Henry’s words.

“Oh, definitely,” Alex freely admits. Henry sags against him, fingers returning to running lines up and down Alex’s back. Alex closes his eyes and just enjoys the feeling of Henry, but pretty soon he whispers against him. “So you call my name during sex?”

Henry cries, squeals, attempts to squirm away from Alex. Alex laughs, arms winding tighter, letting barely an inch between them. Henry has his face covered with both hands. Alex is sure, if he could see, Henry’s ears would be turning pink.

“Why!? Why would he tell you that?”

Alex can’t help laughing harder. “He didn’t, he just mentioned ‘that night’ and, coupled with interrogating me, I put two and two together.”

“You’ve never been good at maths! Why start now!?”

Alex buries his nose in Henry’s neck, in the sweet spot under his jaw, laughing against his skin.

“Is it everyone, all the time? Or was it just him?”

Henry is still trying to get away from Alex, but Alex is holding fast.

“Please stop! You have no idea how mortified I was!” Henry finally pulls his hands away but won’t face Alex. “Here I thought I’d finally found someone I could use to get over you, and you're in my head anyway!”

Alex has stopped laughing. He’s busy kissing apologies against Henry’s skin.

“How about I call your name twice as loud in return?” he offers.

“You won’t be having sex with somebody else while you do!”

Alex laughs again. Henry turns in Alex’s arms to shut him up with a proper kiss, and when he does that thing his tongue, Alex can’t imagine saying anyone else’s name so intimately ever again.

[strititty]

for the character bingo, alpha bro/dirk's bro/alpha dave/however you refer to him?

just snipe me with this, why don't you!!

there are probably a lot of reasons why alpha dave wormed his way into my brain and clung there like a particularly stubborn parasite but i think this one boils down to like. sheer self-indulgence, because he didn't GET a lot of this iteration of dave in the comic. we just got a lot of OUR dave, and i think age differences are hot, so thereupon my obsession with alphacest was born. here's a link to people don't do that, the fic that sparked it all.

since then i have found solace in a few extremely good fics that feature alpha dave (the run and go is on this list again lmao) and gave me a lot to think about, and i've gotten into some roleplays with friends that sorta... took on a mind of their own. i HAVE written over 100k of an alpha dave expy/my own oc. you'll never see it unless we're really good friends but i have done it.

that's the thing about alpha dave, right? he's got little to no screen time so all we've got for him is that he's an aspect of dave that made it big, made it REVOLUTIONARY. the interpretations where he's a huge asshole are just as valid as the ones where he's a bisexual disaster (and i'm fond of both. at once!)

i love good big brother alpha dave, i love BAD big brother alpha dave. i love when it's complicated and he's a shitty person but he has a good heart.

i also, and here's where i might punt the hornet's nest*****, think that he definitely had a coke problem at some point in his life. like cmon. hollywood director? c'mon.

also dave & rose's dynamic in a world where they know they're doomed and that they have to fight anyway? chef's kiss. i've read a very good handful of fics about that dynamic alone, romantic or not, and i would kill for them.

[incorrectly-quoted-queers]

So picture it, a historical fantasy romance where the show The Borgias meets Midsummer Night Dream

We got Medici, Da Vinci, Sforza, Pazzi

We in Florence, in Milan

We got a Medici sapphic with spy tactics who likes poison embriodery, herbalism, and decoding

We got a gender-bending, autistic-coded Da Vinci adoptee with a tragic backstory and a lil magic who finds solace in irrational heroism and graphic arts

We got another bisexual disaster Medici known for violence, frightening swordsmanship, shameless homoerotic flirting, and his own chip on his shoulder from being a bastard

And my not-so-secret favorite, a lowborn baker who grew up with the Da Vinci, with a love for good foccacia, hopeless romantics, and out-of-century literature written by a future-seeing dragon.

Together, they need to stop fae interference and chaos from plunging the Italian valleys into a second Italian War with France. But can they figure out the conspiracy before fae magic gets them all tied up in knots?

(Anyway hello, yes, the above is titled The Cradle of Envy, my WIP that just hit 55k!!! Here's to hoping some agent likes it in Fall 2022!!!)

[firstprince-ao3feed]

this is the first time I've felt the need to confess

by theprinceandagcd Alex frantically unlocks his phone and stares at their text thread, at the heart reaction that Henry had left on his most recent message. His thumbs hover uselessly over his screen, trembling as moisture burns his vision. The entire room is thick with uneasiness, heavy enough that it’s hard to breathe, and Alex wants to tell Henry something, wants to reach out and find the solace that Henry so often offers him without even realizing it. But mostly, as his brain finally catches up to what’s actually happening, all Alex can think is that he doesn’t want to die. He tries to come up with a list of reasons why in his head, a comprehensive one that probably should include family and career goals and a million other things, but in the end, in the moment, all he can fucking think about is Henry. Words: 5035, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Alex Claremont-Diaz & Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Oblivious Alex Claremont-Diaz, Bisexual Disaster Alex Claremont-Diaz, Near Death Experiences, Not actually though, TW: False Alarm of Active Shooter, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, i need to be so fucking clear that there is never actually a real threat i swear via https://ift.tt/xmZgGTk

[lilyhoshikawa]

OC Profile: Blake Leto

(Art by @thesunsetbox)

Blake is a character built for @myosotis-horizon‘s One More Persona TTRPG system.

The design philosophy behind Blake’s development was to combine traits from Ren and Akechi and unite them into a single, very mentally ill character who would act as both a unifying presence and a point of tension between the party. A character who is at once a liar and a manipulator and a victim nursing unspeakable trauma. At once a hero and a villain.

They are the world’s foremost actor, adept to hundreds if not thousands of roles. Mask atop mask atop mask, layers so deep that their genuine self is perhaps impossible to discern. Lies have kept them alive their entire life, and persistence will get them what they want. They’re the type of person set on a path that can’t be stopped. They are the force that will bring about major change in the world of those around them, the people and the systems they interact with. One can only hope that change will be for the better.

TWs below the cut: drowning, police brutality, physical abuse, drugs, self-harm, attempted suicide, mental abuse, possible gaslighting

Name: Blake Leto

Nicknames: The Killer Prince (by the media), Prince (by Masumi), Princey (by Bee), Blakey (by Sammy and several of their fans)

Gender: Nobody Has Any Damn Clue But They Sure Aren’t Cis (Transfem something-or-other)

Pronouns: They/Them (She/They if you unlock their Secret Gender)

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: 20-21

Birthday: January 9th

Hair Color: Light Brown

Eye Color: Purple

Combat Role: Navigator

Magic Type: Almighty

Persona: Artemis

Arcana: Justice

Backstory

Blake was born into a lower-class New York home to their parents, Gavin and Christine Leto. Their parents, both under intense financial stress, were neglectful at the best of times and abusive at the worst. Blake’s father wielded the heavy hand of punishment while their mother, reluctantly, comforted them in the small moments she had to do so. Blake, lonely and without many friends, took to a small forest they discovered by their home as a place of solace, writing in a journal they kept as their only confidant.

One day, this habit sparked a disaster that would change their life. Blake happened upon the dead body of a police officer, seemingly drowned in the shallow lake. Shortly after, the middle school-aged Blake was arrested for the murder.

Blake somehow knew they’d be convicted, knew the police weren’t interested in solving the case. They formed a plan in a moment that would change the course of their life, smiling for their mugshot and slowly working to become a celebrity on the back of their outrageous and captivating murder case. After working to get into the good graces of the media, Blake managed to obtain bookings on radio shows followed by tabloid interviews and daytime talk show appearances, permitted to leave jail for just long enough to show up. Before long, the strangely charismatic alleged murderer developed a following of passionate fans, and was branded with the name “The Killer Prince,” playing off of the Japanese Detective Princes from the official Persona titles.

In the background of this rise to fame, however, Blake was on the verge of death on a frequent basis. The police who arrested Blake targeted them in jail, seeing them as having killed “one of their own,” with their bias and disdain only increasing as Blake’s prominence rose. Blake was regularly beaten by the officers during interrogations and in their cell, and drugs were used during their interrogations to make them more susceptible to manipulation. The regular violence to which Blake was subjected drove them to desperate ends, slitting their wrists on two separate occasions after their conviction to be placed in solitary confinement and away from the whirlwind of the media and their abusers.

Also while in prison, Blake met Desmond Price, a social services worker who was assigned to their case, and the man who would become one of the few to know the genuine Blake’s feelings on many things. Blake regards Desmond as largely useless, but his connections are a critical part of their ability to make large moves in their attempts to reopen and retry their case to be vindicated.

Blake’s plan was ultimately successful, leveraging their social influence and fan support to pressure the justice system just enough to grant them a very limited parole, allowing them to return to life outside the prison system just as they were leaving high school age. Blake found a place in Belknap College, negotiating a place for themselves with the help of Desmond. It was divisive at first, and Blake was subjected to no shortage of spiteful disbelievers and adoring fans in equal measure.

It was also upon their arrival at Belknap that Blake learned of the alleged murder of their mother, a crime they’d never even been told about. After the incident, Blake’s father had moved away, vanishing from their life entirely. Blake concluded this to be the work of a serial killer, the same one who had framed them as a child, still prowling around the community they’d grown up in, existing somewhere out there, still free. This doubled Blake’s determination to solve the case, continuing to appear on TV and radio shows even after starting college to pressure their fans into continuing the push for a retrial. In their eyes, another trial meant a chance to solve the murders of both the officer and their mother.

But later into that college life, in the midst of it all, they encountered the world of Fractals, and awakened to their Persona.

Alongside Lena, Camellia and Ilse, Blake stumbled into Fractals and met the mysterious Puck, awakening to Artemis, their Persona, first, and eventually becoming the de facto leader of the small group they named The Hunters after meeting up with their teacher, Sakio, and learning about the Shadow-hunting organization the Daedelus Collective.

Blake trusts neither Saikio nor Daedelus, nor even their own teammates, but continues to run their assigned missions with the intention to leverage their influence as they always have, aiming to learn the truth about Daedelus and its intentions. But beyond that, Blake also finds Fractals compelling, as it has proven to have a bizarre link to the real world, with Blake happening upon the childhood journal they presumed to be lost forever on their first outing into the world. Blake has bet their case on a slim possibility of using Fractals to procure new evidence in their case, and if push comes to shove, they’ve learned that Fractals has the potential for… other uses.

Abilities

Blake’s primary persona is Artemis, who is gifted with incredible navigational and protection abilities at the cost of power and health. Artemis is able to transmit details about enemy Shadows directly to Blake’s journal as well as providing some slight analysis upon further focus. Artemis’ main abilities consist of buffs and nerfs, empowering other party members while weakening Shadows. She also wields Almighty attacks, specifically the Megido series of spells. Compared to canon Navigators in the Persona series, Blake is more aggressive and offensive-based, though their versatile moveset allows them to pivot to healing, defenses, or buffs depending on the need, making them a valuable part of the team. Artemis also offers constant protection to Blake, preventing them from getting hit by most attacks and preserving their relatively frail health. Artemis is also unique in that she allows Blake to act first in any combat encounter.

Wielding the Justice arcana, Blake is able to use their bonds as a resource, risking lasting damage to their relationships to enhance their own power. This is mainly done using their premiere ability, Spark and Tinder.

Blake is also positioned as party leader on account of above-average problem-solving skills, typically able to think through situations and puzzles calmly and work out a solution. Their intelligence comes at the cost of both an incredible and annoying ego and a fragile pride, but it nonetheless makes them an asset.

Blake also has a relatively vast network of connections due to their prominence in the media that they can attempt to utilize, and seem to also have a somewhat significant wealth from their various TV and radio appearances.

Visuals

Blake is a pale-skinned individual with light brown hair, purple-colored eyes and light freckles. Their typical outfit consists of a white button-down, a pair of jean shorts, leggings, and black sneakers. They wear their hair in a high ponytail and also wear a clip in their hair styled after a sunflower. They also wear a pair of circular glasses. They are frequently seen carrying either their journal or some other book or novel, flipping through it idly at times.

In the winter, Blake’s attire remains similar but includes a purple sweater vest worn over their shirt and long jeans rather than shorts. They also have a heavy winter coat, which is black and reaches down to their knees, worn with a red scarf and snow boots.

Blake also occasionally wears a suit for more professional occasions or attires, consisting of a dark blue suit jacket and formal pants over a white shirt with a black tie and dress shoes. Their sunflower hair clip is replaced with a star hair clip.

In Fractals, Blake wears armor themed after a paladin’s, primarily consisting of white platemail over their torso and lower body. The armor ends around their elbows in order to enable them to easily access their persona at any time. The outfit also includes a vivid red cape. Blake carries their journal as their primary weapon, using it for combat notes and strategic planning. They do not wear any hair clip in this appearance.

Personality

On TV, Blake appears to be a relatively quiet and soft-spoken young man, formal and deliberate in their speech as well as charming and captivating. They’re well-known for being agreeable and funny, drawing crowds of their curious followers. Many watchers of Blake’s TV appearances write them off as unintelligent due to their nature of agreeing with most of the hosts and guests and rarely bringing up their own points or insight unless it’s specifically to do with their prison experience, a topic on which they seem strangely defensive.

Those who have met Blake in real life once or twice will reaffirm this to be true- a very charming and well-spoken young man with a winning smile and prettyboy appearance, one that has won them the hearts of many fans their age.

In reality, Blake hides their true intentions behind layers of masks. The TV sweet-talker is the most surface-level of these, hiding an obvious bitterness and hostility just beneath the surface that often breaks through. Though they are used to using their charming façade to get their way, a cynical and sarcastic secondary personality often breaks through, revealing Blake’s anger and outrage for the life stolen from them, a distaste for all the fans dumb enough to buy into their lies and all the hosts careless enough to platform them. Blake despises most of their fans, as much as they despise having to pretend to support the very police that abused them to win over public appeal. The same way they hate the personality of prettyboy that they’ve had to adopt, and the way it’s changed them.

This, too, is just another layer of the masks Blake wears. A hostile, bitter and angry person who manipulates a blindly loyal fanbase is an easy thing to write off. Beneath even that, there’s the turmoil, the blind rage and confused feelings, the anger and despair at the self that could have been and went missing. Beneath this layer, Blake has shown a complete fury bubbling over with rage and unable to be reasoned down from their need to be in control, to not have their deeper self pried into.

Blake looks down on most people, including their own teammates, and is indignant and hostile to those with power over them, lashing out at those who they feel threaten their mask with sharp, targeted, biting remarks. They delight in calculated manipulation, reveling in tearing off the masks of those around them and revealing their true feelings and intentions so that Blake can feel secure in the knowledge of their friends and foes alike. While they can dish it out, however, they certainly can’t take it. Blake is averse to attempts to pry deeper into themselves, angry whenever they let genuine emotion or information slip. Beyond all of that, they fear getting comfortable. Coming to accept and love their teammates, considering them friends and allies who they wouldn’t want to use, and settling into a normal and happy life instead of pursuing the goal they’ve sacrificed so much for. The culmination of Blake’s final mask is a person desperately afraid to form genuine bonds, to move on from the past traumas that have driven them to making the moves they’ve made. A scared kid who hates themselves just a little bit less than they hate the world, and can’t stop until they’re vindicated.

Blake is at once condescending and oddly formal in their speech, in a way that comes across as stilted and unnatural. They’re bizarrely verbose where they don’t need to be, and it clicks into place when you realize this is a mix of them never turning off their TV persona and never learning how to talk to their peers as a teenager. Blake talks more like a character in one of their detective novels than an actual person. The smug, talkative smartass that makes up a part of their mask is also a very genuine part of themselves, indulging in wordy rambling to stroke their own ego. Blake is also cynical, quick-witted and sarcastic, often making rude jabs at their teammates and enemies alike, no stranger to quips and banter.

Arrogant, hot-headed and showy, Blake’s smug belief in their own superiority sometimes translates to battles, showing a fickle favoritism to allies on their good side, rewarding them with more buffs and support. In spite of this, they’ve shown to be able to buckle down and get serious when push comes to shove, and can act as a reliable leader when their back is to the wall.

Trivia

Blake’s first incarnation was a character I call “Proto-Blake” these days, a non-finalized version of their character that was a lot more sincere and soft-spoken, more introspective and far less abrasive. At the end of the day though, I just like writing bastards too much.

The decision to give Blake purple eyes was inspired by Futaba.

Blake refers to the other Hunters by their last names at the start of the campaign with the exception of Lena, who they have a prior relationship with. After becoming closer with Sammy, they also began using their first name. Ironically, they do NOT trust anyone who calls them by their last name.

Blake actually kind of hates their name, a mix of familial trauma and media bombardment that feels like it’s separated their name from their self. In that context, the “Killer Prince” title is almost a safety blanket, in a way.

Blake lives on campus even during semester breaks because they do not have anywhere else to go.

Blake experiences paranoid delusions, but they hide this as best they can, and would never admit to it.

Blake has projected their mommy issues onto Sakio. It is unclear where the daddy issues went. It’s possible they never left Gavin.

Blake is responsible for coming up with the name of the group of persona-users, The Hunters, for which the campaign is also named. It is a reference to The Hunters of Artemis.

Blake is the only party character to have two favorite locations, The Petit Prince Café and The Bridgehead, though both have identical functions (increasing Charm).

[susiephone]

my big gay folklore narrative

This is my best construction of the folklore narrative, specifically the Teenage Love Triangle. While some of these connections are obvious, some are just me going full Pepe Silvia and interpreting the characters in ways you may disagree with. And, again, this is super-duper gay. (Yes, James is female in my mind. I know a lot of people point out it can be a girl’s name -- which it can, so valid -- but I personally like to imagine she’s one of like 20 Jessicas or Ashleys at their school and goes by her last name. Either way, it works.)

Our story is set in a small town in Pennsylvania in the late 90s/early 2000s, and it concerns four girls: James, Betty, Inez, and August. I will do this story roughly chronological order, but due to the nature of the album there will be some jumping.

seven

When Betty is young, things at home aren’t easy. Her father is abusive and she doesn’t feel safe there, but she does have solace in a childhood friend of hers. Her friend does her best to protect her (“I think you should come live with me, and we can be pirates, and you won’t have to cry, or hide in the closet”), and they love each other very much.

Sadly, her friend moves out of Pennsylvania with her family when they’re young, and because this is pre-internet, they lose track of each other, and years later, Betty’s friend only half-remembers her -- but she still holds a fond place in her heart. (“And even though I can’t recall your face, I still got love for you.”)

cardigan / exile / august / betty

I’m lumping these four together because I think they all happen in the same year or so, constantly overlapping each other.

Flash forward to high school. By now, Betty’s father has left her and her mother, which is for the best, but the whole ordeal was pretty traumatic. (“I knew you, leaving like a father, running like water.”) She’s bisexual but closeted, and James is one of her classmates. James is a rebellious tomboy and it’s basically an open secret among the adults (and most of their classmates) that she’s probably a lesbian, but she’s still closeted. (“I’m only seventeen, I don’t know anything.”)

The two girls become close friends, and eventually begin kissing and holding hands in private, but both are too scared to go further, or to come out and say that they really care for each other. Betty tries to broach the topic multiple times, but James brushes her off.

Finally, Betty plucks up the courage to suggest she and James go to the spring dance together, as a couple, and let the chips fall where the may.

James, in true disaster lesbian fashion, freaks the fuck out and says “no,” even claiming it was only a fling to her. Which is total crap, and deep down they both know it, but Betty’s really hurt. The night of the dance, James has a change of heart, realizes she needs to take a stand and show Betty how much she loves her (“Tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy”), so gets all dolled up and she goes to the dance... and sees Betty dancing with a guy. (“I can see you starin', honey, like he's just your understudy. Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me. Second, third, and hundredth chances, balancin' on breaking branches. Those eyes add insult to injury.” / “I hate the crowds, you know that. Plus, I saw you dance with him.”)

Hurt and angry, James leaves. Betty follows, and they have a massive fight; James accuses Betty of using her, while Betty calls her a coward. (“You never gave me a sign.” “I gave so many signs!”) They call things off and it’s miserable.

While James is walking home from the dance, August, a classmate of theirs who’s out and proud, offers her a ride home. (“High heels on cobblestones” / “I was walking home on broken cobblestones, just thinking of you when she pulled up like a figment of my worst intentions. She said "James, get in, let's drive.”) Soon, this turns into a fling. Being with August is a nice distraction, and helps James fully come to terms with the fact that she’s gay, but she desperately misses Betty. However, when Inez finds out August and James are a thing, she mentions it to Betty, who responds by avoiding James altogether.

Unbeknownst to James, August is really falling for her. August, meanwhile, is aware that she’s a runner-up to who James really wants, but she hopes that eventually James will see her the same way she sees her. (“For me, it was enough to live for the hope of it all. Canceled plans just in case you'd call and say, ‘Meet me behind the mall.’ So much for summer love and saying ‘us,’ ‘cause you weren't mine to lose.”)

But summer ends, and James breaks things off with August, determined to get Betty back. She works up the courage to go to Betty’s party, ask forgiveness, and rekindle their relationship; for real this time. (“Will you have me? Will you love me? Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends? If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it? Will it patch your broken wings? I'm only seventeen, I don't know anything, but I know I miss you. Standing in your cardigan, kissing in my car again. Stopped at a streetlight, you know I missed you.”)

mirrorball

I like to imagine “mirrorball” is told from the perspective of Inez, the school gossip. James claims “you can’t believe a word she says most times,” which I take to mean that she has a bit of rep, and is known to exaggerate. I think Inez is one of those girls who became the girl who’s up in everyone’s business because she wants people to like and pay attention to her, but doesn’t think she’s impressive enough on her own. (“I can change everything about me to fit in.”) And, to an extent, it works. When something happens, people look to her to get the dirt. Whether the story she circulates is true is an entirely different matter. (“I can show you every version of yourself tonight.”)

The result is, well into adulthood, Inez has a reputation for being a “people person,” but deep down, she feels like she’s faking it. (“I’ve never been a natural; all I do is try, try, try.”)

the 1

This song is from August’s perspective years later, when she’s all grown up and looking back at her fling with James. She’s doing good these days, dating people and living her life, but she does think back on what could’ve been. She’s not bitter, but she does wonder how life might’ve turned out if James picked her instead of Betty. (“It would’ve been fun if you would’ve been the one...”)

hoax / peace

These two also take place at roughly the same time, as Betty and James finish high school as a couple and finally truly grow up. (“Our coming-of-age has come and gone. Suddenly this summer, it's clear, I never had the courage of my convictions as long as danger is near.”)

Between the reactions of people around them, both of their insecurities, Betty’s history of people hurting her, and James’ impulsiveness, things aren’t easy. (“I could never give you peace.” / “Stood at the cliffside, screaming, ‘Give me a reason.’”) However, neither are willing to call it quits. (“Don’t want no other shade of blue but you.”)

So, things aren’t all rosy right away. But they resolve to make it work. (“All these people think love’s for show, but I would die for you in secret.”) It takes a long time, but I like to think that eventually, they do.

invisible string

This could be seen as being from either Betty or James’ perspective, years later - once they’ve both fully grown up and their relationship has matured. It talks about how past bad relationships led them to each other. As we’ve seen, both were with people who weren’t right for them - but it all eventually led to them being able to be together. (“Were there clues I didn't see? And isn't it just so pretty to think, all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?”)

the last great american dynasty

This is totally irrelevant to the love triangle, but how fun is it to imagine this song as one of Inez’s many wild stories? As an adult, she’s making bank, and still drawing controversy everywhere--and loving it. (“I had a marvelous time ruining everything.”)

[akkermans]

( madelyn cline / cis woman ) PHILIPPA ‘PIP’ AKKERMANS is 22 years old and is a JUNIOR at thales university. SHE is majoring in JOURNALISM and is known for being THE DESPONDENT as SHE can be CURIOUS and INSIGHTFUL as well as SELF-PUNISHING and MOODY. every time i see HER, SHE reminds me of SMOKE RISING FROM A CIGARETTE, THE CRUNCH OF LEAVES UNDERFOOT, INCOHERENT SCRIBBLINGS IN A NOTEBOOK.

hi hello hi i’m hero, i’m 22, she/they and i live in the est tz! i’m a recentish graduate who likes horror, my cat, and a damn fine cup of coffee!! i’m so excited to be here w/ pip!! if u wld like to plot, give this a like or hmu on my discord @ ‘garlic bed #3345′!!

full name: philippa ‘pip’ akkermans 

birthdate: june 24, 1998 

age: 22 

gender: cisgender woman 

pronouns: she/her 

zodiac: cancer 

nationality: dutch-american 

ethnicity: white

hometown: utrecht, the netherlands

languages: dutch, german, english 

family: 

julian akkermans, father 

lotte de vries, stepmother

amelia akkermans, mother (deceased)

sophie akkermans, twin sister (deceased)

orientation: bisexual biromantic 

religion: atheist (formerly catholic) 

height: 5 ft 6 in 

distinguishing features: thin scar from crown of head to right eyebrow, eyes, lips 

character inspo: theo crain, alaska young, shane and ryan from buzzfeed unsolved, camille preaker

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

TRIGGERS: death, car accident, alcohol and drug use, mental illness (depression, ptsd)

born in utrecht, the netherlands to a dutch father and american mother, pip akkermans’ life has been marked with tragedy since she was born. it seems to follow her. she was born five minutes before her twin sister, sophie, but as the two girls took their first breath, their mother took her last, leaving julian akkermans a single father. 

growing up without a mother, pip and sophie found solace in each other, forming a bond akin to many twins, one so close, so dependent, it was like they were in their own little bubble. sophie was always the bright one, the one who walked into a room and immediately lit it up. pip was always the quieter of the two, her energy more dour, more withdrawn. but together they were a team, causing trouble left and right, getting out of it with sophie’s sweet smile. 

their father was never the same after their mother died, but the coldness that possessed julian was all they’ve ever known. often times he was out of the house, unable to properly step up in the role of father to girls that were the spitting image of his lost love and the sole reason she’s gone. he drank. a lot. but he was never violent, simply sad. 

he starts going out a lot, and eventually, brings home a woman that he says is going to become their step mother. a wedding quickly ensues. there’s a meanness in her, a clear disdain for the twins. but they don’t care, they don’t need to. they have each other. they’ll always have each other. 

they’re fourteen and visiting amsterdam for the weekend when their car is hit head on by another, there’s enough momentum to flip them twice. the driver and pip are fine, minor injuries, but sophie passes away before anyone arrives, her hand in her sister’s as she takes her last breath. 

pip is distraught, and for obvious reasons, she’s lost the better part of herself, even though she promised she wouldn’t go away. if her dad is heartbroken, he doesn’t show it. he simply continues to pull away. eventually sending pip to live with her aunt in america, rhode island to be specific. 

she doesn’t exactly adjust well, not only is she still reeling from the death of her sister, but she’s experiencing intense feelings of detachment and nightmares of sophie every night, among other symptoms. her aunt eventually takes her to a psychologist, where she’s eventually diagnosed with depression and ptsd. 

thus begins her long journey into managing her mental health, her aunt showing a surprising amount of support. she wishes on some level, that she had always grown up with her, that her father sent them away when they were children, maybe she wouldn’t feel so alone. maybe sophie would still be here. 

for the first year in america, she doesn’t quite have friends, because she prefers her usual solitude. but eventually, she finds her group of friends, within her soccer team, her clubs, anything to get her mind off of her old life. 

she tries to be normal, she really does, but she knows something is off– she feels empty, all the time, and her medication makes her feel like a zombie. eventually she falls into a crowd that is prone to partying, drinking, smoking. she’s sneaking out most nights to join them at their spot. 

her senior year, she spins out, has a very public breakdown, that ends up leading to her taking a leave of absence from school, and essentially once again, returning to pariah status. 

she does manage to graduate and get into thales university, by sheer force and extracurriculars, where she begins majoring in journalism, because it’s always been something she’s interested in, having been a part of her school’s newspaper before, well, everything. 

she meets nana in one of their gen eds, and they hit it off immediately. they’re practically inseparable for a few years, until there’s an incident of pip being caught in a compromising position with one of nana’s flings at the time (it wasn’t what it looked like) and before she has a chance to explain, they’re no longer speaking.

 nana goes missing a few weeks afterwards, and the emptiness comes back, feeling guilty as if it was her fault. as if everything that has happened has been a result of knowing pip and her general trail of misery. she was going to apologize, too. she just never got the chance. 

now with the death of steven, her curiosity is piqued, her journalistic instinct triggered by the mystery afoot, and focusing on that means she doesn’t have to think about herself, because by god, she does not want to think about herself. 

TL;DR: pip and her twin sister, sophie, are born in utrecht, the netherlands– their mother dies when they’re born. their father withdraws, eventually remarrying a bitter woman. when pip and sophie are 14, they’re involved in an accident that takes sophie’s life, and leaves pip alone, a bit traumatized. she moves to america to live with her maternal aunt, and goes to high school there, until she essentially has a breakdown her senior year. she meets nana her first year of thales, and they’re inseparable until a misunderstanding a month or two before she disappeared. now with steven’s death, she’s using her journalism skills to investigate it all. 

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

between the melancholy is a very bright girl. she’s always been rather inquisitive and observant, the quieter one of the akkermans twins. as she grows older, learns to live without her sister, learns to live alone, she grows into her own voice. she becomes someone unafraid to speak her mind, simply because she has nothing left to lose. she’s a bit dry, a bit sarcastic, and her humor can border morbid on occasion because she’s gotta laugh or else she’ll cry. she has a bit of trouble sticking her nose in places it shouldn’t be. she’s rather loyal, but it takes a lot for her to trust you– she trusted nana, and look where that got her. that being said, she has long bouts of depression, and detachment, which she’s been trying to manage for years now, but still, in the quiet moments, there’s a feeling the girl is rather– haunted. 

𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒

she has pretty good investigative skills! she works on the newspaper at the school, so she’s kind of all over the place

explores a lot, likes to wander because it clears her head, though it also means she’ll probably enter places she’s not usually allowed (i.e. abandoned buildings, etc.) 

also a soccer player! she’s played soccer for a good amount of her life, except her senior year of high school when she withdrew, she’s debating quitting the team here though 

has a slight dutch accent, it’s noticeable mostly on specific words 

disaster bi….. disaster bisexual…. usually stumbles into relationships and they never last due to her own shortcomings 

can’t drive fr shit never learned how, fr some… obvious reasons, has some anxiety getting 

has a few tattoos! her first and favorite was two butterflies on her wrist for sophie 

has two piercings in each ear, a daith piercing in her right, and a upper cartilege piercing on her left

doesn’t really talk about her sister, however, claims she sees her/feels her sometimes 

a skeptical believer of ghosts and spirits, mostly likes the stories that comes with her 

speaks to her father once every two years, their relationship is nonexistent 

likes to have a beer every so often but doesn’t exactly party, if u do see her at parties she’s prob lounging on a couch chatting with someone who’s name she’ll never remember 

lived on campus for the first two years but this year got her own apartment, has an esa, a two year old scottish fold named noodle 

has an extensive collection of sweaters and cardigans

kind of an old lady……. just learning about tiktok now

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

partner in crime – the ryan to her shane, the trixie to her katya, maybe they’re not the best of friends but they get into a LOT of trouble together

the reason nana and her stopped talking – pretty much nana walked in on a situation and misread it entirely and her drama loving ass cut pip off until her disappearance

friends 

former friends – pip pulls away a lot, she is the undoer in a lot of relationships… or maybe it was your muse…. 

roommates (2-3) – new girl-esque shenanigans to be had!

newspaper coworkers 

soccer teammates 

someone she’s been helping with a case

fwb (f/m/nb) – girl has got needs, and doesn’t always like to be alone so

exes (f/m/nb) – prob broke up because pip’s inability to ever truly connect to other’s… haha! or it could be on good terms, and they’re pals now

crush (f/m/nb) – either way, reciprocated or unreciprocated, but it’s weird and you’re both kinda hot?

people she has Hooked Up w/ and now it’s awkard (f/m/nb) 

rivals, but are we? 

only likes her because her cat – noodle rights, babey!

‘she accidentally stole your coffee order once, but hey, she’s pretty cool’ – prob bought u a new one after she drank a bit of it…. now you see each other around fondly

‘she stuck her nose in your business for the Scoop’

hate-to-love friendship – i want to k*ll you to hey you’re pretty alright but don’t tell anybody i said that

‘you sent her an anonymous tip, but she accidentally figured out it was you’ 

someone who gets her out of her shell – takes her to parties! out with friends! 

anything in my wanted tag!

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

What My Thoughts On Morrissey Today

In response to my writing idea someone gave me I picked this.

So basically, Morrissey’s nationalism in recent years has gotten in the way of me being able to appreciate much that he comes out with. This is wild because a few short years ago, I stood up for Morrissey and actually still feel very moved by a portion of his music. It got me through some really rough patches in my twenties.

I realize he’s human and has faults and I don’t know him completely but just eh, living in Portland and having seen the stuff going on I’m kind of not in the place in my life right now where I want to even try to dissect him. It’s not just a fact that he’s wrong, but that it seems altogether very much in rejection of the things that made his music so special. It was difficult for me to come to terms with it or fully make sense of why someone who’s unashamed expression of witty despair in the 80’s and 90’s, someone who was outcasted from the overall closed mindedness lower working class post ww2 world of northern England, unafraid to be gay and completely the antithesis of some Tory ideal could be bought by some tired nationalist agenda. It’s even more difficult to realize where his alegianced lie in a world that is starting to reject democracy, embrace anti intellectualism in the guise of some form of selective politically motivated skeptism, and I see the world move farther and farther into fascism.

Margaret Thatcher attacked The Smiths. Morrissey was taken in for questioning more than once out of fear for what he represented. Morrissey and The Smiths has some subversive element that really did threaten the establishment and cultural norms, in a way that I feel was a little more multidimensional than even a lot of bands in the English punk scene. I guess for me, even though I grew up in the Inland northwest of the US, I felt there was a lot of parallels in common. I too detest a culture based around animal consumption, was really not a part of the world I grew up in and didn’t want to work in the factories, I liked art and music and nobody around me was really into that stuff.

I still like the Smiths and most of Morrisseys old music. I read his autobiography. I know he is a dramatic self involved individual but I did feel that up till somewhat recently his heart was in the right place and he just liked to be controversial, which is somewhat true still, but now I think there was more to it, some nationalistic self preservation instinct kicking in. Its actually more prevelant than I even realized and I honestly think it’s getting the best of anyone with money or power, even those who once stood for something counter culture. It’s hard to think of him as racist in the traditional sense with his adoration for Latin America, but he might just be so self involved that his popularity in those regions gave him a bias. He probably separates the racism from the nationalism, blindly not wanting to see how the two concepts are quite inseparable. Falling right into it.

Him saying “everyone prefers their own race”, is kind of wild to me. I genuinely even try to entertain this as a possibility like a philosophical thought experiment or a deep dive of some kind into my own subconscious part of me I am avoiding somehow, and it’s not true for me or a lot of people. Who the fuck is he to say who prefers who, and how backwards and dehumanizing. It’s pretty repulsive, and being he is bisexual and felt the discrimination of homophobia growing up, I’m inclined to think he’s not able to see that he’s become the enemy he once represented the antithesis of.

The guy I’ve kinda been with is Mexican. I totally love him. I look into people’s eyes and I talk to and open up to people and if I connect with them I connect with them. Not like I’m trying to play the I gotta friend who is this or that as some kind of example of much, or that I don’t see color or some faulty implication, but I have been in situations where I’m the only white person at a party and I prefer them because they are my friends and I love them, and the idea of classifying who I prefer is to imply that the white race should be my main concern as they are the same as me and therefore superior and they aren’t. There is nothing inherently special to me or a kinship felt with other white people for either their appearance or cultural background. It’s nice to compare notes of pop culture but a lot of stuff people go through is universal. I don’t take too much issue with multiculturalism. My white skin is meaningless to me. I can’t imagine being so inept as a person that the color of my skin actually defines my identity rather than my autonomy or ideas or relationships and what I stand for and my ability to appreciate and connect with other people.

What gets me is that in his support of the far right is not even in line with his hatred of police, or the hatred he had a few years ago. I mean, he has always gone on and on about police brutality, he’s been harassed by them on multiple occasions. He shows them on giant projectors at his shows. Police are a very important staple for fascism and nationalism, and he is now on their side after all this time? What changed? The lost young man he once was in 1981 feels very very different from who he has become and piecing together that transformation has been something I’ve been trying to do for awhile. I try to embrace both but they seem like similar but different people at odds with one another, like an uncle and nephew.

Here is what I imagine happened, and I could be wrong about that but I was a Morrissey fangirl for quite awhile. I literally had his signed autograph above my bed with dried flowers around it like a shrine for a few years, and got a grasp of Morrisseys personality in some ways.

To start off, Morrissey is a very poetic and sharp guy but he’s very miopic about his interests and has always had the tendency to see the world in a black and white framework. This in and of itself is not necessarily bad, but it’s the core framework of who he is as a person. When he was young it was very much more a reflection of his hatred for authoritarianism and deceitful people and phony artists. It’s not bad and it contributed to his music and lyrics and became the thing he was loved/hated for. The way he goes about it really has always been the double edged sword of his charm and vileness all in one and something people have mocked time and time again. He likes to be the guy in the corner that looks fine and smug and believes he sees the virtues/dispicable attributes of everyone in the room and there have been times in his life where he was, and though he won’t ever attack anyone face to face he’s quick to speak his mind about it.

Morrissey is also a very vain person. It’s subtle but he is very singular on certain aesthetics. At times it made him brilliant and poetic and a visionary. The Smiths album covers are beautiful. His look is both elegant and absurd in its grasp for purity. It also makes him seem like a twat and a pretentious prince. The fact that he seems to be these two things at once is what gave him that kind of controversial star quality at times.

Those are just two natural traits he has always been obvious with. And he struggled with it and focused on his passions and dealt with depression in the 80’s. Then fame happened and the smiths ended. He kept to himself more or less in the 80’s and 90’s aside from his disdain for Margaret Thatcher, but he kinda lost his mind a bit when his drummer took him to court in the nineties. Right or wrong he fought for two years and lost a good chunk of his money from The Smiths and when that happened he kind of was forced to start again. He lost his home. He developed that early personalized sense of self preservation and victimhood. I think he lost faith in many of his more naive ideals when he was younger. When you read his autobiography and know what happened it’s like he had to step out of his old life and into something else.

Then, he’s always been a vegetarian superiority type. I liked that he calls it as he sees it but because of his need to black and white think everything he came off as deluded and smug. I mean, to be fair you can’t seem to win with people who want to eat meat and I agreed with a portion of his message, but he never questioned himself. He’s not good at that, or doesn’t appear to be. My personal interpretation of him was to agree with part of it and give him the cred for being not afraid to be a dick and say it, but to see also that he was so dramatic and self absorbed about it to also laugh at him and the way he said it.

Now to go into fascism and why it grew on Morrissey. I see the world as kind of falling into polarization and flux because of the failures of neoliberalism. It’s a long political explanation, but essentially the systems that are in place do not provide answers to a lot of catestrophic issues. Democracy, though the best thing we have, is flawed. I really like philosophy and have studied this and the various arguments that are made, and I don’t have the answer either but fuck if I will ever side with nazis.

People are seaking solace in new ideas that are actually quite old, namely socialism and fascism that provide answers that democracy fails to. Capitalism eats itself and created monopolies and unfair wealth distribution, technology is making human labor obsolete and therefore not a stable means to base our economic system on, those with wealth are hoarding it and trying to separate themselves from the world they helped ruin. We are destroying the planet, running out of natural resources, many of our leaders in the last three or for decades have been flawed, there isn’t a universal safety net for things like natural disasters and pandemics and there are still places stripped of their natural resources where human slavery is prevalent and children starve to death. Neoliberalism has promised some great answer but has actually been the contributor to this entire mess.

We are seeing the beginning of the end now, and I am sure Morrissey isn’t going to waste that without putting himself in the victim shoes, the white traditional quintessentially Englishman of wit, who sees his beautiful world he grew up in disappearing in multiculturalism and seeing himself and the culture of old England as a dying breed, that needs to be preserved at any cost. He probably was on the fence about it for some time, weighing out his disdain for authoritarianism, having a bougouis experience with the seemingly left leaning media that he never managed to win over and called him out for his every misstep. I bet he had a friend who opened him up to the idea that we don’t know about who changed his mind. I bet cuts in taxes for the rich helped him preserve his wealth that he definitely feels entitled to after losing the first portion of it in the court case. He’s rich, famous and old and often times that leads to being quite out of touch, even to the best intellectuals. He lost his mother who was dear to him and I can imagine, even though it’s not political, it created a deep sense of emptiness and dis ease. Nationalism often times gives people a sense of security and identity and purpose. And the idea of having an unpopular opinion excited him just as it always has, gave him the opportunity to be the smug poet in the corner of the party, and he sold out. Hard. And he’s probably proud of it.

He’s irrelevant now. Honestly his latest album wasn’t good, and I like later Morrissey. He doesn’t have the same energy. I just feel like he’s grasping at something that he never fully ever had. What’s weird to me is that I’m writing about him like this when honestly, I could also easily write about how beautiful and meaningful the Smiths and Morrissey has been to me. I can’t explain how it cut through the extreme isolation I’ve been in, not to mention how the Smiths really changed music for the better. There’s always going to be a part of me that wants to defend him. I’m not saying we cancel him. I kinda think he canceled himself. I’m not going to try to not enjoy the smiths or morrissey when I hear him, and I will still hear it and enjoy it but I’m not ever going to spend my own money on filling his pockets. I still nostalgically enjoy the person he was a very long time ago and what he used to represent. I realize at the end of the day he’s just a flawed person. But also fuck fascism, and fuck Morrissey for caving into it.

I mean, at the end of the day the hardest part is that I made him a part of my identity and I just had to stop doing that in a simplistic way. I tossed out a morrissey shirt I had (it’s was a cheesy shirt anyway), and I found new genres of music and while I still love the smiths it’s not like I can’t do without them every day. I break down and listen to them sometimes. I know the songs so well. I listen to Xiu Xiu which is a modern day similar equivalent in some ways but is absolutely better and the singer Jamie Stewart is fucking gold.