#completely cool if not and you mean one of your verses :D

[picnokinesis]

WIP ask game: 5, 9 & 10 for the ziptie or anterograde aus?

Also, I binged your zombie au a few days, and much like w/ the campervan au I was so impressed about how you incorporated the show’s dialogue, especially in regards to the climactic meeting between Theo and Koschei. Also also, I was so excited when Jericho showed up - what a tenseful way to introduce him to the reader, too. If you’re comfortable w/ answering: 1 and 2 for this au?

Ahh hello! :D Thanks for the ask - and ahhh I'm so glad that you enjoyed zombie au!! It's one that I'm actually pretty proud of, I have a massive soft spot for it. One of my favourite things to do with aus is take lines/ideas from the original content and weave them into the new story - I mean, you've seen that in campervan au, but for me one of the most interesting things about writing zombie au was taking lines that I'd also used in campervan and putting them in a new context and shedding a different light on them, but also taking lines and ideas that I haven't even touched in campervan and exploring them here instead! And augh, man, I'm still SO proud of that part where Theo finds Koschei in the corridor during the attack - everything just came together, and I could just see it in my brain but I feel like I actually managed to get what I could see onto the paper in a way that really captured it. I'm so happy that you enjoyed it!!

But hmmmmm let me see...I'm gonna put this under the cut because it's long, but:

5 - What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

Oooh this is kind of tricky. I think one of the biggest problems with both of anterograde and ziptie is that they're so interlinked with the main au - I can't really write them or post them until I've finished the entirety of campervan. Anterograde is also quite large and nebulous - it spans over several years after the initial train crash, and so I'd really have to figure out how to structure it if I wanted to do it properly. It's much more 'slice of life' than the other ones, which are much more plot driven. The other problem with both of them is just sitting down and writing them, yknow? They're both BIG stories! Ziptie in particular also has a lot of logistics going on that I'd need to actual sit down and figure out if I wanted to write it properly, but at the moment the main draw is thoschei being feral

9 - What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

With anterograde au - I feel like it's the slower, domestic version of the main au, but with bucketloads of angst to make up for the general softness. I think it's also just the premise of it too? Like memory and identity are SUCH interesting themes to me (see: I write about them all the time), but I think holding up campervan and anterograde next to each other is what makes them both so fascinating because in one you've got the Doctor with retrograde amnesia, cut off from her past but still ending up defined by it; with anterograde, the ONLY THING SHE HAS is her past, and everything else is thrown into confusion and uncertainty. And then, you've got Koschei, who is suddenly having to deal with a very different situation to the one he was originally envisioning for himself (and for the Doctor) and it's just......really cool to see how the same characters, with the same backstory, end up in completely different places (emotionally and literally) because of the Doctor's brain injury being different depending on the verse. Also just the inherent....trust that comes with them living together and Koschei fundamentally ending up as the Doctor's carer. And not just the trust between the pair of them, but also with other people too (like Graham and Grace, Jack, etc.). I think anterograde reaaaally makes it clear that Koschei is, at heart, still the terrified 15yo that he was in 1999, and that he's never had anyone to actually help him. Anterograde kind of gives Kosch this chance to actually have a support network and help himself, which does allow him to heal (to some degree) from a lot of his stuff. The inherent tragedy here is that the Doctor, on the other hand, has suddenly lost her sense of time and so can't tangibly heal in the same way, because she can't remember it. However, there is a lot of healing going on under the surface - which is takes a while for both of them to notice and understand, but it is definitely there.

With ziptie - I think the premise of 'spydoc ziptied together' is the main draw HAHAHAHA but serious answer, ziptie spydoc are just...so painfully co-dependent in the worst way ever. And they hate it! Because they get thrown into this working AGAINST each other, and then are suddenly in a truly awful situation for weeks where they're suddenly the only person that the other can trust. And then by the time they get out of that, everything is worse and they're also messing with each other's heads in a very literal way (because in ziptie, they both have the kasaavin on their necks and can't get them off) and it causes a lot of interesting issues.

10 - What are your hopes for your wip?

This is interesting, because I have thought a lot about this - because, truth be told, I'm almost certain that anterograde and ziptie and the other aus will never be written in full. However, when (and it IS a when, I am determined) campervan is finished and fully posted, there's a reasonable chance that I'll post some excerpts from the other aus, if people are interested! It might also be fun to like, write an explanation or summary of the au? Or maybe make a video or something explaining everything? That would probably take ages to make but I feel like that would be the best format. I would definitely like to share them somehow, someday, because they offer such an interesting insight into each other.

And then - for zombie au!!

1 - What was the first part of your wip that you created?

I'm genuinely not sure with this one!! I'm pretty sure I just opened a document and started writing haha! I feel like that's right - the opening of zombie is very much just me going 'uhhhhhhHHHH LET'S JUST START IN A RANDOM PLACE' ahahaha, you can kind of tell that I just threw Theo into the set and told her to improvise. Which, to be clear, is something I do WAY too much. Even when I plan fics, I have no idea what's going on, so I have a tendency to just coast on vibes and see what happens as the story unfolds. Especially when I'm starting a story. Usually by a few chapters in, I've started to get a sense of things.

2 - If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Hahah well the fic title is take from a song off the album Future Dust by The Amazons, so no one is surprised that I would probably pick a song by that band. Either In My Mind or Mother. As a fun sidenote though, the theme song for Theo and Koschei before Gallex gets released is Junk Food Forever.

THANKS FOR THE ASK!! <3

[tr4sh-hive-3]

Hello, *world! (re: *tumblr)

no, the title does not make sense. fitting for my first post. this is gonna be a long one, so fasten your seatbelts honeys and allow me to take you on the thrilling ride through my various inner turmoils and tragically unrealistic aspirations!

I hate myself. with my heart, soul, and mind, I hate every fiber of my being. logically, I know I’m probably not that bad (maybe), but logic doesn’t mean shit to my stupid brain. I don’t like hating myself. I find it makes it much harder to be happy and I do enjoy being happy. sometimes. actually, I think when I’m feeling “happy”, I’m really just feeling empty and stale. wowza, that flipped around fast. I hate being happy. I hate not being happy. I hate being alive. I hate wishing I was dead. I hate talking to people and I hate being lonely. I hate everyone and I hate that they hate me. I hate myself. yay~

I have this really weird self esteem thing where I overthink everything relating to my mental abilities. I hate hate hate the part of me that seems to have this stupid elitist complex based on my intelligence. I’m sorry, I should stop talking about hating things. what I mean to say is there’s a part of me that only cares about getting smarter and having everyone know I’m smarter than them. I feel absolutely amazing when someone praises my intelligence and like complete shit when I’m wrong about something.

if you’ve read those last two paragraphs, you now know that I (not saying it) myself and my sense of self worth depends entirely on my own perception of my intelligence. now that you’ve got the basic rundown of my inner turmoils, let’s get into the tragically unrealistic aspirations.

I’m an artist. I’d like to consider myself as such. to be an artist, one must create art. I don’t really do too much of that. I’m not really an artist. I draw, sure, but I’m not very good at it. and everything I write is shit. take this text post for example. it’s got no flow, no rhythm. I don’t know what that means. are texts such as this supposed to have a “flow”? I think I’m incapable of gauging the quality of my work. I’m incapable of defining anything related to me. I don’t know what I look like. my physical features are always shifting. sorry, that’s more turmoil, isn’t it? let me (try to) tell you about my dreams.

I want to create a world. a universe. not a D&D fantasy map the size of Manhattan, I want it to put those little wimp dicks to shame. big, sexy, and full of endless niche crevices to get lost in. I want to write a big-ass 12 book series following a beautifully layered character aged 12-24. I want to make comics, cartoons, movies, video games, all that shit in this one uni(multi?)verse. I want people to fall in love with it and make their own head canons that I can (legally) declare canon. wouldn’t it be cool as hell if other people actually liked what I made so much that they made fanart or wrote fanfiction for it? I would die. I would actually just pass away over the motherfucking rainbow if anyone ever did something like that for a thing I made.

that was a lot less depressing than the last few text blocks. I promise I’m not that miserable most of the time. just when I’m venting into the unforgiving void.

let me tell you something fun—

humans create what they consume. read fiction? get ready to be gripped with the urge to write fan fiction, or worse, your own books. watch cartoons? get ready to find pencils forcing themselves into your shaking fist, yearning to make sweet, sweet, love to your paper and make beautiful fan art babies. if you consume media, you’re a hell of a lot more likely to become interested in the creation of that media, and eventually in creating similar media yourself. which is good; because it’s a lot easier to have fun making something when you have references.

I’m not so interested in books, cartoons, video games, and stuff. I think it’s because I have moderate to severe depression and instead of being gripped with the urge to write fanfiction, I’m usually just gripped with the urge to kill myself. I’m very interested in being part of several fandoms and essentially having a gargantuan online family. I vibe heavily with that idea. I know that I can enjoy consuming that sort of media, because I’ve done it before. I remember some years ago when I wasn’t so mentally ill; I remember devouring books and rotting my brain with cartoons like they were cocaine. I remember the crazy strong rushes of serotonin I got from rereading the same sentence for the third time just so I could fully appreciate it. I remember how I could get addicted to a show and the anticipation I felt during the seconds between hitting play and the intro. I know I can feel that way again because others can feel so strong they write millions of words out of love for it, spend hours on drawings and cosplays to share with their online family just because they love those stories that much. I want to feel that way. I want to feel like I can create out of love.

that’s probably one of the reasons I want to make that big, sexy world. I want to make others feel that way. I keep talking about this feeling like it’s so abstract. there’s probably a word for it. I hope there’s a word for it.

have you formed any opinions on me yet? are they good? I hope they’re good. I happen to be very self conscious of what others think of me. If I’d want you to feel anything about me, I’d want it to be a sense of kinship. I find that’s a very nice feeling to have. especially for a complete stranger. well, I suppose we’re not much of strangers now that you know some bit of my deepest heartaches and wildest dreams.

would you like my name now? I’m gonna give it to you anyway.

hello. please, call me Pan. I hope we can be friends.

[shallowseeker]

Adding in @midnightmadwoman's response here so they can live under the same roof:

This is a really interesting point, and it makes me think that Castiel could only appreciate the sensation of existing within a human host after having learned an appreciation for humanity itself. I get the feeling that angels in general consider themselves divine and exclusively cerebral beings of cosmic celestial energy, and consider having to inhabit a body made of meat an indignity they're willing to endure out of duty to the host. The first time he was on Earth, Castiel didn't care about humanity and thus never connected to his vessel. It was only after meeting the Winchesters and learning to respect and love humanity that he recognized the unique value in existing in a body. When he first told Dean that "this is a vessel", that was true at the time, but the human experience connected him to himself and to others in a way that other alienated angels couldn't access. The body did indeed become him, but I don't think it was in the ontological sense of transplanted tissue becomes part of the whole, but rather that the angel had to give himself permission enough to take ownership and responsibility for his human body. To exist as a being of meat, blood and bone is an experience that angels instinctively resist, but it's one that Castiel successfully learned to embrace. Glorying in one's bodily personification is definitely something he learned from Dean in particular; you can't see this man throw himself into his pleasures and creature comforts without wondering what all the fuss is about. Dean loves being human, as is evident in a million ways. If anyone can teach an angel how cool, fun, strange and wonderful it is to have a body, it's him.

/// RE: @ironworked Yes, at least in SPN-verse, there's the mysterious quantum echo of "something" left behind. An energy that can't be described by "soul" or "grace," perhaps it is neither. Or perhaps there's more to it all than we all think.

The only appropriate response is "It does pose an interesting philosophical question."

I imagine matters of personhood could lead to all kinds of places and span all kids of religions and philosophies. And I'm sure that because it's such a nebulous concept, no one can really be right or wrong defining it. :D But yeah, I think you honed in on what I was getting at, that how different is it from the other characters' experience of personhood, really?

Yes, there's a messy ethics inherent to Cas, but it's a similar ethical conundrum we saw in Faith with Dean and his new heart. The new heart is not something he identified with in isolation but it became a holistic a part of a system that helped him (continue to) move through the world, interact with others, and form meaning.

///

I don't really have anything thoughtful to add to your @midnightmadwoman, though I will say that sometimes the notion of "Dean teaching Cas humanity" chafes a little for me, personally, but not because I disagree with you. I just think Cas had a lot of humanity already and it can get overlooked. In fact, I think he tends to, especially in seasons 5 & 6, displace ownership for his own emotions onto Dean. I view the delicious quotes like, "I did all of it for you," and "I gave everything for you and this is what you give me?" as being a bit like Mary's lamentation to John in The Winchesters, "Stop using me as an excuse for your issues."

Cas had a lot of Heaven baggage that was just...very much his own. There was his shame of Heaven's relentless war-mongering; their impossibly powerful war machine! And his frustration with his fellow soldiers for not thinking like him. He took their allegiance to Raphael as evidence of their lack of free will, which is not exactly how it works: "They don't think like I do...must be because they don't have free will!" is certainly...slippery. I'm not saying he's completely wrong, but it is...a difficult thing to consider. That people might have free will and just make evil decisions anyway.

Anyhoo, Cas is pretty volatile and emotional in his actions--so are all the angels, despite what they say. And Dean's emotions were safer to displace his own onto, so I think a lot of the "experiencing of" humanity is safely cloaked in this sense of "teaching."

We saw that Cas rebelled time and time again, as did other angels, so I prefer the view that they were struggling to "be human" all along. But I think we agree more than we disagree. I more prefer the view that it is like a transplant insomuch as it allows the angel to have a gain-of-function that allows them to move through a world and experience their emotions in a more physically integrated fashion.

I mean, in the world of SPN, the soul seems to have a true form, too. It lives inside the body. But like @ironworkedsaid, there's also an undercurrent of something else that lives outside of all of it.

///

I agree 100% that angels having a tragic asceticism when it comes to emotions, and they don't give themselves permission to admit to feeling things, just as the Shadow crowed in season 14. Even when they show volatility (so many ugly wrathful emotions), they insist they're emotionless. They're expected to be emotionless, so it's the parroted party line.

///

This is how I view Anna, actually, that she never quite integrates her own emotions despite her falling.

She feels things! But rather than accept it as a part of angelicity, she rips out her grace and swings the other direction wholly into humanness. In Anna's mind, emotions can only mean humanness, and angels can only mean emotionlessness. But that doesn't quite add up...if she had no empathy, she'd have had no reason to fall in the first place.

can’t put into words but when ppl assume cas is “just” a personality and not his body i feel weird about it…

like

it becomes his body the same way an organ donation becomes your organ. and i think dean gets that. “it’s not an it, it’s cas!”

in that season, cas is certainly feeling connected to his body, and dean actually knew that better than sam. cas said, “amara ripped lucifer from my body.”

i don’t think it’s as simple as disembodied personality inside a body.

if cas is “just” a personality inhabiting a vessel, you could argue we all are too, esp in SPN world…a soul can inhabit different bodies. how we interact with and relate to others is greatly affected by what kind of body we inhabit and when we happen to meet.

tldr; personhood is messy. and not totally sundered from the body you inhabit.

[sunder-soul]

PROMPT 1: Hellooooooo! First off ur writing goes off, second off listen to this idea that i truly think u can bring to life... reader n tom r in a relationship and someone tried to slip tom to love potion but ofc he doesn't fall for it and his gf is like ??? and then they rub their relationship in her face LOL. anyways no worried just thought this would slap! Admire u n ur work!!

PROMPT 2: hey i love your the last of your rules series and everything else you’ve written. i’m not very creative so idk what exactly i’m looking for plot wise i just trust you since everything you’ve written is good but i was wondering if maybe you could write a tom x ravenclaw reader please. the ravenclaw reader tends to be more emotionally reserved and isn’t big on physical affection and maybe tom finds that interesting in a way? idk this idea might suck but felt like asking anyways...

Decided to combine these two because I could see them working really well together… :D

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Retribution

Summary: After somebody tries to slip Tom a love potion to break up him and Ravenclaw Reader’s relationship, they get a little bit theatrical in response...

Wordcount: 1.8k

Content warning: none.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Good morning,” says Tom evenly, lifting a wide-brimmed cup to his lips and taking an even sip as he looks at you.

“Is it?” you say dryly, sitting down opposite him at the Slytherin table and pulling out the new Magical Theory textbook. “Have you looked over this yet?”

“I have,” Tom replies with a very small smile. “Not to your liking?”

“Sophus writes like it’s still the seventeenth century,” you say with a shake of your head, “which isn’t surprising considering I don’t think he included a single reference from the last two hundred years… I mean honestly –” you wave at the title on the front of the book, “– ‘Corpus Magikus?’ Even the title makes it sound ancient.”

“Did you have any criticisms about the actual content per chance?” Tom asks as he lifts his tea again – though it doesn’t quite hide the amused smile on his lips. “Or did you not manage to get past the articulation?”

You give him a look. “The articulation is just as important as the content.”

“I completely disagree,” he replies easily, his cup clinking as he rests it back on its saucer, “regardless of how it is written, his points are extremely sophisticated.”

“I’m not talking about the quality of his points, I’m talking about how well he makes them accessible,” you say at once, picking up a piece of toast and buttering it lightly, “he can have the best criticisms of Magical Theory in the world and no one will care if they can’t understand what he’s saying.”

Tom arches a brow and leans forward on the table, resting on his forearms. “You’re placing the responsibility of understanding an argument on the person presenting it, and not the person receiving it,” he says fluidly, “personally when I find something difficult to understand, I take it as an indicator that I need to return to the topic after better preparing myself.”

“That works fine as an individualistic perspective,” you reply at once, leaning forward to match him, “but a book isn’t written for an individual, is it? It’s written for an audience. A book like this is measured by how wide an audience it can reach, meaning the responsibility is half on him to write accessibly, and half on the audience to go away and fill the holes in our own understanding. That’s when information is dispersed most effectively.”

“Your priority is the dispersion of information as a whole and not the expansion of your personal field of knowledge, and that is the crux of our differing opinion,” Tom says, sitting up straighter and tilting his head calmly.

“I am very aware,” you say dryly, “but you shouldn’t dismiss the importance of charisma when it comes to spreading information. After all, academics aren’t exactly known to be the most charismatic people most of the time, so you end up with intelligent, useful tomes that are utterly incomprehensible to most people –” you nod at the text again, “whilst compelling idiotic drivel is widely consumed.”

The Daily Prophet lands with a thump on your breakfast plate as the delivery owl swoops away with a mournful hoot, and you share a pointed, very wry look with Tom.

Tom breathes a little laugh and laces his fingers around his cup. “So you’re not looking forward to Magical Theory, then.”

“I am,” you amend, frowning, “I just hope the class follows more like Waffling’s work than this.”

“Of course you like Waffling,” Tom smirks, lifting his cup, “he effectively writes in verse –”

Tom suddenly freezes, his brow furrowing lightly. You raise a brow at his sudden reaction. “What?”

He looks down at his tea, still frowning.

“Tom?” you prompt, bemused.

“Someone has attempted to drug me,” he says in complete seriousness, looking up at you.

You stare back, bewildered. “Is… is this more Tom humour?” you ask after a moment, “you seriously need more practice at making jokes, Tom, you really are terrible at it –”

“I’m not joking,” Tom interrupts crisply.

Your scrutiny drops to the cup in his hand. “How can you tell?”

“My tea smells like you.”

Your brows raise. “Excuse me?”

“My tea,” he repeats evenly, his dark eyes coming alight with a flicker of amusement as he leans closer, his cup still in one hand, “rather suddenly smells like you. I can only assume someone has managed to slip Amortentia into my cup sometime during this conversation.”

You blink at him. “Oh,” you say simply.

Tom’s lips curve into a more defined smirk at your expression.

“Well who’s trying to drug you then?” you ask quickly, looking away.

“An excellent question,” he says silkily, eyes still on you. “Their motive is hardly a mystery, so that should narrow it down.”

You roll your eyes and level him with a flat look. “Nothing could narrow it down less, Tom,” you drawl, “half the school is in love with you, and the other half is in denial about being in love with you.”

Tom arches a brow and looks very pleased with himself. “Should I drink it and we can find out?” he asks in amusement, lifting the cup.

You huff a laugh and take a bite of your toast. “Go on then, but don’t expect any sympathy from me when you’re pouring your heart out to some random stranger in front of the whole school a minute from now.”

His hand freezes with the rim of his cup an inch from his mouth, amusement faltering.

“That’s what I thought,” you smirk. “If you want to play it that way you’re going to have to be smarter than that.”

“Oh?” he asks, dark eyes narrowing. “And what would you suggest?”

“If someone drugged you during this conversation then they’re probably watching for your reaction,” you say casually around bites of your toast, “so just look out for someone who’s waiting for you to dramatically break up with me.”

“According to you, that would be the entire school,” Tom mutters, looking significantly more disgruntled than before.

A grin slowly builds on your face. “That was nearly a real joke, Tom,” you say ironically, “Merlin you’ve come so far…”

He shoots you a flat glare and you snicker. “Alright, sorry, I’ll stop – look, if I storm out of here looking upset and you act all conflicted and brooding for the rest of the day, whoever it was will probably try to come talk to you.”

“How theatrical,” Tom deadpans.

You shrug. “Do you want to know who drugged you or not?”

His eyes remain on yours for a moment, and then he lifts the tea to his lips. You watch him pretend to drink, your eyes lingering on the tea glistening on his lips as he lowers the cup.

“Don’t lick your lips,” you say quietly, not quite able to look away.

Tom’s other hand shifts slightly where it’s resting on the table between you, and the tea vanishes both from his lips and the cup. You give him another dry look. “Show off,” you accuse, smiling, “wandless and non-verbal, huh?”

“If you ask nicely, I’ll teach you how to do it,” he smirks.

You huff a laugh and slide Corpus Magikus back into your bag. “I should make my dramatic exit soon,” you say casually, finishing your toast and looking around the hall absently. “Perhaps we should have a fight first.”

“That would make it more convincing, yes,” he says delicately, still looking amused.

“What shall we fight about?"

Tom’s expression immediately cools and he leans in so close that you can see the patterns in his dark irises. “The content doesn’t matter,” he says smoothly, a glimmer in his eyes despite his utterly blank expression, “rather, the articulation.”

You hold his gaze for a second, fighting the urge to smile. You force yourself to stand suddenly, as if he’s said something of great offence. “I’ve never seen you so quickly converted to my opinion, Tom,” you say icily, leaning down to him over the table and hoping it looks like you’re angry.

“You made your argument very convincingly,” Tom says immediately, lifting his chin coolly.

“Actively demonstrating my point, I suppose,” you snap, standing straight. “I’m going to storm out now.”

“I’ll see you in class,” he says dismissively, pouring himself more tea.

You turn on your heel and leave, ignoring the curious eyes following you on your way out and not letting the smile break on your face until you’re well outside the Hall. Now all you have to do is wait.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Amelia Staghart,” Tom says in your ear before swiftly sitting down next to you in Potions that afternoon.

You raise a brow at him, watching as he arranges his Potions kit on the desk – Staghart is sitting a few desks behind you at that very moment and can most definitely see the both of you. “Are we no longer having a fight?”

“I grew tired of that pretence rather quickly,” Tom says curtly.

You smirk. “Did she talk to you?”

“Yes.” He looks decidedly irritated.

“A lot, huh.”

He shoots you a glare and you bite back another smile. “Are you going to report her then?” you ask, writing the date out on your parchment.

“No,” Tom says softly. You glance up curiously at his tone and find his dark eyes watching you write, before they flick up to yours. “I can think of a more pertinent retribution for her to endure,” he finishes quietly, not looking away.

“Retribution?” you echo, arching a brow with a slight smile. “And you accuse me of being theatrical.”

But Tom only leans closer and – to general astonishment – places a very gentle kiss on your cheek. His lips linger soft and warm on your skin for a moment as you’re frozen in place, staring at him as he slowly draws away an inch. His eyes roam your face as you blink in surprise, his lips curving into another humorous smile at your expression when there’s a sudden SMASH from behind you.

The entire class turns from where they’ve been staring wide-eyed at Tom’s display of affection to see Staghart’s inkwell knocked asunder on her desk, spreading black ink across the wood and dripping down to the floor, her eyes wide and her expression thunderstruck as she stares at you.

“Clean that up at once, Staghart!” Slughorn says disapprovingly as he strides into the room. “I certainly hope your clumsiness does not extend through today’s lesson – we’re brewing poisons today, class!”

Staghart goes red as the rest of the students titter and chatter, furiously glaring at the pool of ink dripping into her lap. 

You glance at Tom and share a silent look of amusement before the two of you simultaneously turn back to your notes, still smirking.

[sylvieeee5]

IT. IS. MBS TIME

AAAAAAAAA

HI!!! Don’t know if you know me, but I’m Sylv! I do liveblogs of MBS (I’ve been a fan since fifth grade haha) that are QUESTIONABLY readable and cat-picture heavy!! Speaking of… a little kitty update!!

If you’ve been reading my LBs for a while, you may remember this adorable bean:

Well, I’m delighted to announce that Sonic has found his forever home- with my grandparents! Congrats on winning them over, little man- can’t wait to see how much you’ve grown when they come to visit next week!

okay i actually have to watch it now hhhhh

fear. and excitement

alright.

MBS Season 2, Episode 1: A Perilous Journey.

Let’s go.

!Warning!! Book/show spoilers ahead!

0:32

Welp, she said it! Roll credits on the whole production, boys. (actually no don’t habsgshdhssh)

0:44

SQ SIGHTING SQ SIGHTINF

ahem.

1:53

DR GARRISON SIGHTING

GIRLBOSSSS

okay we haven’t even made it past the RECAP yet, come on sylv-

2:39

OH NO

MADGE HOW COULD YOU

rip mouse 😭😭😭

3:09

WETHERALL FARMMMMMM

3:14

boomerang????????

3:24

hey king cmoN IT WAS COOL

3:29

baby!!! also we have her name said for the first time!!!

3:56

yes.... yes you are 4:12

IT’S NIGHT NOW

NEW INTRO?????????????

4:20 (ayy)

THE GOLF CART

THE A L PA C A HUH??????

also “not identical”  👀

4:30

dog man...?

4:50

i amn... intrigued

4:59

THANK YOU KINGS!!!!

5:21

smug... fishing for compliments... yep this is the loser we all know and... love?

5:27

Ah Connie girl- trying to use your newly-discovered psychic abilities to kill him through the screen?  I don’t blame you tbh

5:36

OH SHOOT

who’s he blaming for this one???

5:37

OH YOU B I TC H

NO

HOW D A RE YOU DO MY GIRL LIKE THAT

6:15

Heavily used in the trailers... might I be detecting a bit of double meaning?

“I can”- make anyone happy... and control what they’re saying.

6:19

ugh.

6:25

YES QUEEN GO OFF

7:43

NO

the only sane one-

7:13

JHWGKASYHADAKDUHDKAWAIWAJWSUAIHDIUWDHiuldawhawd

DO IT GIRL

7:18

rhonda: completely unbothered

...how many times has constance tried to do this sshkj

7:28

🙄 babies.

7:49

awwwww

okay, i know they’re not legally sisters in this ‘verse, but... sisters

8:13

THAT’S THE SCREAM

HJSFJKSDAUSHDASUSHSDIA

mission failed. we’ll get ‘em next time

9:23

very reassuring.

9:44

girl what????

are you forgetting the tried-to-take-over-the-world part???

10:28

well crap

10:54

THE SOUND I JUST MADE

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

milligannnnnnnnn

11:00

It’s been a year, but Kate’s still struggling with healthy independence vs. shutting people out,,,

And their relationship... It’s still new, to both of them. It’s a struggle to go back to... being father and daughter.

man

11:07

katie-cat,,,

11:30

gsajagjdgjj

parents expressing interest in your fandoms be like-

12:09

12:41

“We know each other.”

12:48

such a good ammaaaaaaaa i’m going to cry

ms perumal i love you

13:51

excellent icebreaker queen

13:57

the SMILESSSSSS

14:17

US TOO STICKY

US. TOO.

14:59

dogman?

16:37

a firm no

16:54

okay i know that was a trick but...

hug

17:28

girl what

17:41

fyueawkiWHQdiquhlJHSDKKADSUKI hey. don’t diss the sweater vest.

17:57

the well.

18:41

Everyone’s a critic

19:46

she really said  👀

20:13

TRUEEEEEEEEEE

also WHAT

21:09

o-hoh no

reynie

22:15

22:59

constance he IS your father and you CARE him

23:06

they play chess

24:00

AYKUEYUAD SHE DID THE REYNIE FACE

24:19

sibling behavior

24:24

constance behavior

24:37

“A book in a book... Bookception.”

that was. remarkably stupid

25:08

the journal that... isn’t a journal and is just a nonsense book.

 huh?

25:46

AHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHASDJJAHKDUSHADW

26:12

sdjkdhkhkskdw

26:45

what’s that got to do with it constance

27:14

Everybody knows that, Kate.

27:52

STICKYYYYYYY

brave boy arc :)

28:33

WATER POLO ALERT

29:49

That’s not a verb, sir

30:18

kate i adore you

30:41

local fish population decimated. sugar prices skyrocketing. great job guys

30:54

oh my god

31:48

wh

what have i just witnessed.

32:04

his stupid gOLF CART

they’re coming right on THROUGH with the curtain loser energy

32:35

this ain’t a pyramid scheme king(derogatory)

32:58

WUH-OH

33:40

AYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

WELL

I’m so stoked for this season!!!!! So far, apart from the Curtain stuff (which I, still have not fully processed,,) it seems pretty 1-1 with the book... but as we know, things will certainly diverge...

wait

WAIT

NO ROLL CREDITS MOMENT?????? THAT’S THE STAPLE OF THE SERIES

OKAY I’M MAD NOW

I give 201: A Perilous Journey a 9/10! A lovely little bite of what’s to come- only prevented from a perfect score by the laCK OF A TITLE DROPPPPPPPP

I am. so upset about that.

See you later today for episode 2!

[vurbubera]

What happened with i-am-a-fish? A compilation:

A lot of people are confused about what happened with Tumblr user i-am-a-fish (who I'll refer to as Fish from here on out for the sake of readability), and a lot of rumor, misinformation and hyperbole is circulating. With this post I hope to compile the claims and evidence against him, examine their validity, and hopefully bring everyone up to speed.

Let's get the main thing out of the way first:

Veggiefact is a Twitter account with over 270k followers. 

The callout post it references is this one: https://ratsofftoya.tumblr.com/post/189087352976/this-is-a-repost-since-just-making-an-addition-to. A second call-out is making the rounds too, from bubblegumlopunny, and it’s a Google doc: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Gv0ixX_jw9geWxFc07b9En--AGHcTqVBO1E6TLGLhHI/edit

Both callouts share about 90% of the same information. Bubblegum’s callout includes accusations of racism and lesbophobia as well, and more incendiary language and questionable charges than the Tumblr post, but in this post I’ll only focus on the accusations that Fish is a pedophile. 

The child porn accounts on Twitter

The “child porn accounts” it refers to are @krskiii, @Karbuitt and @kamawanu__. The last one is actually safe for work, provided you work at a place that’s cool with you being on Twitter, and the second-to-last one sort-of is, depending how your boss feels about suggestive pin-ups and sex jokes. 

Kamawanu posts fanart of various fandoms, but mostly fanart of Rick & Morty and Into the Spider-Verse. Kamawanu is an incest shipper, although they keep that content to a separate, adult-only and locked account. Karbuitt posts artwork of various Nintendo characters, but in particular Viridi from Kid Icarus. Neither of these accounts can be argued to be "dedicated to child porn" in any capacity.  

Although some Tumblr users would argue in earnest this is child porn as well.

Krskiii is the only account to have posted questionable content. While the vast majority of their feed is cute, safe for work anime art, they posted lolicon back in januari this year. Both callouts include a second screenshot from a tweet made in 2016 as well. 

Was this something Fish reasonably could’ve known about? According to the callout in the Google doc:

This is straight-up untrue.

Not only is it perfectly possible to follow Twitters without checking them first (and many follow-for-follow Twitters operate this way) but even if you do vet accounts, there is no archive or tags like Tumblr has to conveniently show you what kind of content you can expect. You have to manually scroll through a person’s timeline or media tab to see what they post.

You’d only see their most recent tweets, not ones they made almost a damn year ago.

Fish followed this account in a follow-spree that had him hit the follow limit for the day on November 12th, almost a whole year after it was made. Fish's claim that he didn't know about these pictures is not only perfectly believable; it’s unlikely that he would’ve even known about it unles he'd dug through this person's media tab quite far.

This is not the behaviour of someone who curated their following list and carefully vetted everyone on it. 

Was this irresponsible behaviour of him, towards both himself and his followers? Sure, you can make that argument. But it’s not evidence for anything more sinister than that.

The Pornhub joke

If you’re still on Tumblr in 2019, you were probably around for the porn purge of 2018, the one that had everyone scrambling for a new online home. With how few alternatives there are of social media sites that allow NSFW content, people started discussing, mostly as a joke, the possibility of moving to Pornhub. It was enough of a Thing that Pornhub's social media department caught wind of it.

I-am-a-fish decided to get in on the joke and created a Pornhub account and posted about “relocating” on Twitter and Tumblr:

How zany! A goldfish on a porn site!

People voiced discomfort over it, so Fish deleted the links from Tumblr and the Twitter bio, but didn't delete the tweet. The Pornhub account itself seems to have never been used.

The sex joke

Part of the callout post is the claim Fish “deliberately exposes minors to porn”, this + the Pornhub thing is what they're referring to.

At some point in late 2018 or early 2019 Fish decided this wasn't the direction he wanted to take his blog into, changed the original post, deleted the reblogs, and hasn't posted nsfw content since.

Also this happened a year ago.

The Discord server

Fish briefly ran a Discord server with a strict no-bullying policy that applied to everyone. This is not a political stance, but it was turned into one. This counts as “believing in reverse oppression”:

Most of the mods were adults, which is supposedly creepy:

One of them thought shipping characters who have been aged-up into adulthood isn't paedophilia:

Someone on the server thought “pedophilia” is a sexuality:

One thing to note here is that none of these actually involve Fish's own thoughts or actions, just those of people he's vaguely associated with (is Mother Allspite a close friend? An acquintance? Someone who volunteered to help moderate the chat?), as well as complete strangers. He's being associated with statements people have made who have no connection to him whatsoever.

Here are the claims I’ve seen making the rounds about the Discord server of which I’ve seen no evidence:

That the mods supported pedophilia

That the mods themselves were pedophiles

That pedophilia was treated as a sexuality you could tag yourself with

That the server was full of pedophiles

The claim that the server mixed minors with adults and didn’t section off nsfw content/discussion is at least a believable one, so I’m not including it here. It’s not proof of anyone being a pedophile, however. It just means the Discord server was poorly managed.

What to make of this?

There is no proof that Fish is anything worse than a young adult (despite the callout posts all making a huge deal out of him being an adult, he's still only 19 years old) who got too popular too fast and didn’t understand the responsibility that came with that. Even for his “worst” offenses there is no proof of ill intent behind them. At worst there is poor judgment, irresponsibility, and impulsiveness. There is certainly no proof that he is attracted to children, much less that he ever acted on it. 

Nevertheless,

(I have no idea where the “20+ Twitters dedicated to child porn” claim comes from and found no evidence whatsoever to support it)

[shtern-and-art]

I have more questions because it's no longer 4am lmao.

Does Skeppy fear any animals? I just wanna know if there's any sweet moments of Skeppy clinging to Bad whilst he tries to calm him down.

I'm guessing Bad still hates things like littering and woodcutters but would he ever act particularly strongly about it or would he have more control?

I like how Rat seems to tolerate Skeppy because Bad likes him but would she ever get jealous if Skeppy started pettting another dog?

I have a horrifying image of Bad just spider climbing up a tree to fetch Skeppy. I don't know why but I feel like dude wouldn't even need branches lmao.

What other supernatural creatures/people do they come across? Were there any that were especially dangerous and did they befriend any?

Is Bad much physically stronger than Skeppy? I keep thinking of Skeppy being a little shaz and Bad just one-arm picking him up and slinging him over his shoulder XD.

Does Bad ever get nightmares of the day he became the forest spirit?

How far would Skeppy take stealing? Would he steal something he knows the owner has genuine attachment to? Would he do everything in his power to steal something for Bad even if it means getting hurt?

Who's more likely to protect the other?

Skeppy just minding his business looking at one of Bad's textbooks, turns his head and Bad's just having a tea party with a freaking bear. Surprised the man hasn't had a heart attack yet XD.

What's your favourite thing to imagine them doing?

Is Bsd an adrenaline junky? Or is he scared of more dangerous things like bungee jumping and mountain climbing.

What would their reactions be to rollercoasters?

Do they have a favourite date-night activity?

Everytime I think of this au it brightens my mood!! Thank you for making something so heartwarming!! <3

Glad to see you again :D And yaay, questions!

My pen pressure broke again, I can't finish any sketches for this ask rn, but here's a couple of old messy designs.

1) Comforting and nightmares

Skeppy has a normal, I’d even say adequate level of fear towards wild animals, whilst Bad has it in negative numbers. And, yes, this fun juxtaposition leads to a lot of unfortunate moments of Skeppy nearly dying from heart attack when some of Bad’s animal friends show up unexpectedly, or Bad goes all out for his tea-parties with wild bears or smth.

So, yes, sometimes the comforting hugs are necessary! And no, none of them ever play up the dramaticness of the situation just to drag out the nice comforting moment They do n o t. That’d be very silly and unnecessary, and will deserve a lot of teasing. So, it’s all serious. Not only for the first couple minutes. Yes.

But If you’re looking for comfort-after-actual-hurt – Bad does have to hold and comfort Skeppy, when the stress of trying to not fuck up the good stuff around him gets too strong. And after the nightmares where they are hated and chased by people. Those dreams do not come often, but when they do, Bad is there to hold Skeppy, whisper in his hair that he is alright, that they’re both alright, and that they can handle everything that’s going on right now.

And Bad himself, well. After leaving the town, his nightmares about the night of the ritual stopped almost completely. They come rarely, only when the anxiety gets really bad. Before, in the forest, Bad had them pretty often. It’s one of the reasons he mostly slept not as himself, but in the minds of the animals.

2) Littering

Bad will not maim someone for not getting a candy wrapper in a trashcan, especially if there are people around. But if someone leaves a big mess in the nature, or even (*gasp*) does it regularly, Bad can and will try and teach them a lesson. As in: pull a cautionary (and probably slightly terrifying) prank on the misbehaving person.

It doesn’t always work out as Bad intended, and may even scare some people off anything relating to nature for good, but, according to Bad, it’s still “a fun and useful little hobby to have :3”.

3) Rat

Rat takes a looong time to warm up to any other animals that infringe on her territory. And Skeppy might be a little shit (and his own rights for Bad are debatable) but he is Rat’s territory still (by approximation from Bad). So, she can gatekeep Skeppy a little bit. Not as much as she does Bad, but the man gotta know his place – Rat comes before other dogs for him too.

4) Tree climbing and strength

Oh, Bad can an will climb down a tree like a full-on creepy creature he is: head down, using only his claws, with Skeppy tucked under one arm. Maybe not even upside down, if Skeppy is lucky, and wasn’t too annoying about wanting to stay up on the tree for the night :D

5) Meeting other spn creatures

Oh, that’s a big question (: Yes, they do meet other cryptids, befriend some, and get in trouble with some, and deal with a handful of new and old spn troubles :D

I always thought that Bad and Skeppy’s life after the main story can make a series of short stories (or one big episodic one) dealing with exactly that: the guys traveling around, meeting other cryptids, learning more about themselves and the world, trying to build a life between human and supernatural crisis going on. Just like In The Dark it can based on the mix between the real life and the minecraft-verse events.

I wanted to focus more on finishing the main story first, though, so these stories are not as sought through, I didn’t even write down any of them yet :D

But if you have more concrete questions, ideas, or suggestions (about a specific person, or a specific thing happening) – write me, I’ll think about it, and how it can work with the theme and worldbuilding I have in mind.

6) Stealing + Protectiveness

Skeppy can sometimes forget about, ahem, moral principles, or human decency… emphasis oh “human”. He’s nature and different worldview it gives, it seeps through in his life and actions even more with age. Especially after he’s been away from actual people for a long while. So, I guess, he might at times steal something that is very important to someone, or do something that could be considered weird or rude in general.

And if Bad really needs something, or is in danger – all rules are down. If there is no one to reality check Skeppy, he might proceed to walk on heads, and commit risky and reckless crimes just to help or save Bad.

They both are quite bad with that, the protecting each other thing. Bad, tho, can be more fiscally violent in his protectiveness.

7) Adrenaline and rollercoasters

Well, it’s not that Bad likes adrenaline specifically, he’s just very curious, likes to try new things, and is almost unkillable. So he can just- just go for everything that’s interesting for him with reckless abandon, and if it goes wrong – welp. Bones can heal limbs can regrow, and the cool abandoned caves will not explore themselves. He’ll have to learn to ease up with lack of selfcare though. Because Bad can’t always leave Skeppy to fend for himself, while he heals, and Skeppy does NOT like seeing Bad getting hurt so much, and not caring about himself at all.

This probably comes back to Bad dealing with his spn nature and learning to make peace between it and himself. And to his anxiety, and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

And hey, it’s the same for Skeppy and his lack of adequate moral compass at times :D

There will be a lot of tension and growing they’d have to do in regards to all this.

Also Skeppy is the one who’s really into chasing the thrills :D Man spent nearly half a year annoying probably-murderous-forest-spirit just for little not-boring fun, jeez :DD

Rollercoasters are a no go, tho. They go up in the air, real high, and, once again, Skeppy and highs do not mix, they do not mingle, they will not have tea parties (with or without bears). Unless, of course, Skeppy really needs to prove something. Then he’ll go on a ride, and die an honorable death, and will never admit he screamed all the way through it.

8) Dates

(*insert an innuendo from Skeppy here*) But, ahm, actually I’d say they love going on picnics: getting food, and hanging around in the nature for a while.

And I honestly donno what I like to think about the most… I just really enjoy the vibe and the atmosphere of the whole story, and how Bad and Skeppy interact in general.

It all is a real delight to write about :D

---

In The Dark - masterpost

[yuichiroswife]

𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐐’𝐒:  

1. When are you usually online?

Due to the fact I pretty much have nothing else to do because of reasons I’d rather not specify to everyone here on this hellsite, I’m basically here 24/7. You can always reach me via IMs (granted that my phone doesn’t make the little message noise like it’s supposed to so sometimes I don’t know you messaged me) or throw me asks and starters whenever you’d like (that also takes some time for me to get to though because I only answer that stuff on my laptop). You can also reach me via Discord 24/7 since I always have that open on my phone and laptop (when my laptop isn’t off anyway) so if you want that, just shoot me a message via IMs.

2. What verses are you involved in?

Truthfully, Mika has a pretty decent amount of verses that I’ve tossed him into, though most of them don’t belong to any series because they’re just mainly used in a more modern setting. Due to the fact that people stopped being interested in my Mika though, I ended up pretty much removing Mika’s verses from his blog completely. The only verse that I use now is his OnS verse and I used to use his Resident Evil 2 verse with Ino pretty often (though it was just him taking Sherry’s place and Crosseyra taking Claire’s). Oh, I also use Mika’s Assassination Classroom verse with my platonic girlfriend, Vira.

3. What is your biggest RP pet peeve?

Um... probably just the basic stuff for roleplaying that everyone else gets irritated with? Godmoding, force-shipping, not reading rules, and metagaming I guess? Though if I’m completely honest, I could care less about what someone else’s muse knows about my muse because it’s not like it’d bother them in the first place, lmfao. Most of my muses are pretty nonchalant about everything, especially Dickson, so if your muse somehow knows he’s a monster or something and try to use it as a way to get one over on him, he’d literally just laugh about it and be like “yeah, I’m totally not human. Pretty cool that you noticed.” It’s the same with if you try to godmod against my muses, if I don’t like what you’re doing, I’ll just do it back. XD I promise you I can be ten times more annoying (especially since my sister says I’m annoying 24/7). :D

I guess what irritates me more though is when your freaking partner doesn’t barely add shit into the roleplay so it’s just a basic response and you don’t know what to do with it. Like... it’s just three lines of absolute horse shit that you can’t even pick up and throw even if you wanted to! Nothing interesting is happening and the actions preformed are literally just being repetitive. God... I hate the repetitive actions. I can’t do anything if all your muse does is blush and giggle. Please, if you value me as a partner or even just value my sanity, DON’T FREAKING DO IT.

Also, please, and I do mean PLEASE, do not expect my muses to fall in love with yours ESPECIALLY if they’re: 1) already married or in a relationship, 2) are single-ship muses, 3) aren’t interested in relationships, or 4) are like Dickson where they literally HAVE NO EMOTIONS TO BEGIN WITH. Everything he does is ACTED. Learned through observing others and copying them. His feelings, unless worked on by himself or someone else (and I mean worked on for a very long time), are not genuine. He does not love you, he is using you unless he actively states otherwise, and I don’t mean when muses who are in love do the usual “oh, I love you so much.” I mean him quite literally obsessing over your muse to the point he’s willing to murder anyone who even breathes in your muse’s general direction. I rambled a bit there... but the point is, don’t think my muses will instantly love yours just because yours confess to mine. Most of my muses would probably just call your muse an idiot or laugh at them. One more thing, I promise. Do not assume that just because your muse is some big and scary bad person (or whatever) that my muse will fear yours (unless they’re possibly human or some weaker being, but even then most of my human muses don’t care) because they won’t. People like Philis, Rain, Mikaela (sometimes it depends on his mood though), and Ember will not be afraid of you, if anything, they’ll likely just think you’re crazy. People like Dickson, Tina, Giovanni, and Hazen (in the future only) will not be afraid of you either, instead they’ll laugh and ask if you’re looking for a partner to aid you in whatever terrible path you’re going down. Also, do not assume that my muses will not outright kill yours if you piss them off to a certain degree because they will, especially since most of my muses aren’t against killing random people (either because they aren’t stable or come from a world that is filled with war). Even if you interact with my kinder muses, they still have a line you can cross and they will try to still kill your muse if need be.

4. Are you drawn to specific types of muses?

I’m pretty sure everyone has noticed, but I have an unhealthy obsession infatuation with darker muses, such as ones who are unstable or unhinged. *coughs* Like Envy as the biggest example. *coughs* I also am really drawn to male muses that are either super pretty or super masculine (I don’t know any other word to describe what I mean, please forgive me) or ones that are very fatherly (probably because they remind me of my own dad). Bonus if they’re super masculine and fatherly because it melts my heart. ; w; Appearance-wise though, I’m drawn to male muses with black hair and blue eyes (*gestures at Dickson*) while I’m drawn to female muses with bizarre colored hair (meaning outside of the usual blonde, black, red, brown) and bizarre colored eyes (outside of green, blue, and brown). But I’m also super fond of male muses with black hair and bizarre eye colors too because sometimes it can look super pretty.

This is totally uncalled for, but my biggest draw in to a muse is if they look a lot like or remind me a lot of Chris Redfield from Resident Evil because that man has my WHOLE heart. And I don’t mean that shitty excuse of a “Chris Redfield” from Resident Evil 7 either. I’m talking about Chris Redfield from Resident Evil 5, Resident Evil 6, and Resident Evil 8 (where he now has a dad bod), though I also love all previous Chris Redfields too. <3

5. Are there reoccurring themes in your writing that people might not notice?

Um... aside from the fact that I tend to ramble a lot? I don’t think so? I personally don’t think my writing is all that great so I don’t think I can really answer a question like this? I’m also not really sure what a reoccurring theme could be in my writing. Sorry! ; ;

6. What are your favorite RP trends?

Dunno really? I don’t really know any roleplay trends aside from the Google Docs and carrd thing. I attempted to do Google Docs, but I got frustrated because I couldn’t figure it out so I gave up. I didn’t even attempt with carrd because you gotta pay for that and I’m always broke so... haha. I only recently learned how to do mediocre graphics and add extra muse themes onto my blogs. I’m a pretty bland person honestly.

7. What is your process for starting a new story with someone?

I usually try to just toss them a very small random starter that isn’t really affiliated with anything in case they wanna use a specific verse with it. I try not to actively talk to the person I’m trying to start a thread with because of my anxiety being so bad to the point (mainly from all the years of being bullied and being ignored when I attempt to talk to people) that I just assume everyone doesn’t actually want to listen to me talk to them. I remember when Envyness teased me about something and I almost cried because I thought they were mad at me. The only reason I didn’t was because they actively said they were teasing and I instantly felt better afterwards. I’m pretty pathetic, haha.

8. How do you feel about duplicates?

I don’t mind duplicates of my canon muses (though I’m pretty sure I have more OCs than canons). I think duplicates are pretty cool to be honest, especially when they like to do the whole “twin” situation with me. XD I had two friends that roleplayed Mika do that with me and it was hella cute.

Though since OCs are supposed to be one of a kind, if I find someone stealing my fucking character that I put YEARS of work into, I’m ripping their arm off and beating them into submission with it.

9. How long have you been involved in roleplaying?

Um... I think I first started when I was like... thirteen or twelve? I just recently turned twenty-four so... twelve years or maybe closer to thirteen? Hard to fully remember since I started roleplaying via Skype and I’ve had Skype since I was in fifth or sixth grade. Yes, just imagine a baby Speka typing up a storm for roleplay with friends. Probably not as cute as most think since I was a gremlin according to my older brother.

10. Is there a muse or verse you could write in, but haven’t?

I dunno to be honest? Given the fact that I have a pretty large multimuse, I can pretty much just add whoever I want to it and start writing for them. Though, I guess if I had to pick someone, I’d probably like to write... Zhongli from Genshin Impact or maybe Jill Valentine from Resident Evil?

Tagged by: @s-talking​​

Tagging: Whoever wants to do this, just steal it and tag me.

[chronosbled]

𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐐’𝐒: 

1. When are you usually online?

Due to the fact I pretty much have nothing else to do because of reasons I’d rather not specify to everyone here on this hellsite, I’m basically here 24/7. You can always reach me via IMs (granted that my phone doesn’t make the little message noise like it’s supposed to so sometimes I don’t know you messaged me) or throw me asks and starters whenever you’d like (that also takes some time for me to get to though because I only answer that stuff on my laptop). You can also reach me via Discord 24/7 since I always have that open on my phone and laptop (when my laptop isn’t off anyway) so if you want that, just shoot me a message via IMs.

2. What verses are you involved in?

God, due to this being a multimuse, I’m involved in so many different verses/fandoms. Though the ones that I’m mostly invested in are my Resident Evil verses, my Yu-Gi-Oh verses (which I never get to use sadly because people don’t give a shit about the series anymore it seems), some of my own verses from my novels (which I won’t go into detail about), and probably my Fire Emblem verses?

3. What is your biggest RP pet peeve?

Um... probably just the basic stuff for roleplaying that everyone else gets irritated with? Godmoding, force-shipping, not reading rules, and metagaming I guess? Though if I’m completely honest, I could care less about what someone else’s muse knows about my muse because it’s not like it’d bother them in the first place, lmfao. Most of my muses are pretty nonchalant about everything, especially Dickson, so if your muse somehow knows he’s a monster or something and try to use it as a way to get one over on him, he’d literally just laugh about it and be like “yeah, I’m totally not human. Pretty cool that you noticed.” It’s the same with if you try to godmod against my muses, if I don’t like what you’re doing, I’ll just do it back. XD I promise you I can be ten times more annoying (especially since my sister says I’m annoying 24/7). :D

I guess what irritates me more though is when your freaking partner doesn’t barely add shit into the roleplay so it’s just a basic response and you don’t know what to do with it. Like... it’s just three lines of absolute horse shit that you can’t even pick up and throw even if you wanted to! Nothing interesting is happening and the actions preformed are literally just being repetitive. God... I hate the repetitive actions. I can’t do anything if all your muse does is blush and giggle. Please, if you value me as a partner or even just value my sanity, DON’T FREAKING DO IT.

Also, please, and I do mean PLEASE, do not expect my muses to fall in love with yours ESPECIALLY if they’re: 1) already married or in a relationship, 2) are single-ship muses, 3) aren’t interested in relationships, or 4) are like Dickson where they literally HAVE NO EMOTIONS TO BEGIN WITH. Everything he does is ACTED. Learned through observing others and copying them. His feelings, unless worked on by himself or someone else (and I mean worked on for a very long time), are not genuine. He does not love you, he is using you unless he actively states otherwise, and I don’t mean when muses who are in love do the usual “oh, I love you so much.” I mean him quite literally obsessing over your muse to the point he’s willing to murder anyone who even breathes in your muse’s general direction. I rambled a bit there... but the point is, don’t think my muses will instantly love yours just because yours confess to mine. Most of my muses would probably just call your muse an idiot or laugh at them. One more thing, I promise. Do not assume that just because your muse is some big and scary bad person (or whatever) that my muse will fear yours (unless they’re possibly human or some weaker being, but even then most of my human muses don’t care) because they won’t. People like Philis, Rain, Mikaela (sometimes it depends on his mood though), and Ember will not be afraid of you, if anything, they’ll likely just think you’re crazy. People like Dickson, Tina, Giovanni, and Hazen (in the future only) will not be afraid of you either, instead they’ll laugh and ask if you’re looking for a partner to aid you in whatever terrible path you’re going down. Also, do not assume that my muses will not outright kill yours if you piss them off to a certain degree because they will, especially since most of my muses aren’t against killing random people (either because they aren’t stable or come from a world that is filled with war). Even if you interact with my kinder muses, they still have a line you can cross and they will try to still kill your muse if need be.

4. Are you drawn to specific types of muses?

I’m pretty sure everyone has noticed, but I have an unhealthy obsession infatuation with darker muses, such as ones who are unstable or unhinged. *coughs* Like Envy as the biggest example. *coughs* I also am really drawn to male muses that are either super pretty or super masculine (I don’t know any other word to describe what I mean, please forgive me) or ones that are very fatherly (probably because they remind me of my own dad). Bonus if they’re super masculine and fatherly because it melts my heart. ; w; Appearance-wise though, I’m drawn to male muses with black hair and blue eyes (*gestures at Dickson*) while I’m drawn to female muses with bizarre colored hair (meaning outside of the usual blonde, black, red, brown) and bizarre colored eyes (outside of green, blue, and brown). But I’m also super fond of male muses with black hair and bizarre eye colors too because sometimes it can look super pretty. This is totally uncalled for, but my biggest draw in to a muse is if they look a lot like or remind me a lot of Chris Redfield from Resident Evil because that man has my WHOLE heart. And I don’t mean that shitty excuse of a “Chris Redfield” from Resident Evil 7 either. I’m talking about Chris Redfield from Resident Evil 5, Resident Evil 6, and Resident Evil 8 (where he now has a dad bod), though I also love all previous Chris Redfields too. <3

5. Are there reoccurring themes in your writing that people might not notice?

Um... aside from the fact that I tend to ramble a lot? I don’t think so? I personally don’t think my writing is all that great so I don’t think I can really answer a question like this? I’m also not really sure what a reoccurring theme could be in my writing. Sorry! ; ;

6. What are your favorite RP trends?

Dunno really? I don’t really know any roleplay trends aside from the Google Docs and carrd thing. I attempted to do Google Docs, but I got frustrated because I couldn’t figure it out so I gave up. I didn’t even attempt with carrd because you gotta pay for that and I’m always broke so... haha. I only recently learned how to do mediocre graphics and add extra muse themes onto my blogs. I’m a pretty bland person honestly.

7. What is your process for starting a new story with someone?

I usually try to just toss them a very small random starter that isn’t really affiliated with anything in case they wanna use a specific verse with it. I try not to actively talk to the person I’m trying to start a thread with because of my anxiety being so bad to the point (mainly from all the years of being bullied and being ignored when I attempt to talk to people) that I just assume everyone doesn’t actually want to listen to me talk to them. I remember when Envyness teased me about something and I almost cried because I thought they were mad at me. The only reason I didn’t was because they actively said they were teasing and I instantly felt better afterwards. I’m pretty pathetic, haha.

8. How do you feel about duplicates?

I don’t mind duplicates of my canon muses (though I’m pretty sure I have more OCs than canons). I think duplicates are pretty cool to be honest, especially when they like to do the whole “twin” situation with me. XD I had two friends that roleplayed Mika do that with me and it was hella cute. Though since OCs are supposed to be one of a kind, if I find someone stealing my fucking character that I put YEARS of work into, I’m ripping their arm off and beating them into submission with it.

9. How long have you been involved in roleplaying?

Um... I think I first started when I was like... thirteen or twelve? I just recently turned twenty-four so... twelve years or maybe closer to thirteen? Hard to fully remember since I started roleplaying via Skype and I’ve had Skype since I was in fifth or sixth grade. Yes, just imagine a baby Speka typing up a storm for roleplay with friends. Probably not as cute as most think since I was a gremlin according to my older brother.

10. Is there a muse or verse you could write in, but haven’t?

Um... given how I’m a pretty huge multimuse, there are way too many muses that I want to/could write for but haven’t because there aren’t people who are interested in said muses. It’s the same with verses honestly. There’s a lot of them that I want to/can write for but haven’t because of the same reasons I’ve listed above, especially since I’m always somehow into series that are basically dead. Like Magi.

Tagged  by: @s-talking​​

Tagging: @crxstallium​​, @anomieheld​​, and anyone else who wants to do this because my brain is blanking right now.

[tyrantisterror]

THE A.T.O.M. CREATE A KAIJU CONTEST 3-D!!!

YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE SAFE!  YOU THOUGHT THAT THE TIME OF MONSTERS WAS AT AN END!  BUT YOU WERE WRONG, FOR NOW YOU MUST WITNESS…

THE A.T.O.M. CREATE A KAIJU CONTEST 3-D!!!

That’s right, it’s back!  Celebrating the publication of The Atomic Time of Monsters Volume 2: Tyrantis Roams the Earth! (which in turn completes The Ballad of Tyrantis arc for this series), I’m holding another monster design jam.  The third of such jams, in fact!

Like the first A.T.O.M. Create a Kaiju Contest, the aim of this contest is to create kaiju that would fit within the setting of my big kaiju story series, The Atomic Time of Monsters.  Think of it as me letting you into my sandbox to play with my toys for a bit, or like you’re being put in the director’s chair of a new ATOM-verse kaiju movie.  That means your entry does have to fit into ATOM’s world, which in turn means that yes, there are limitations to your creativity here.  But limitations can be good sometimes - they can make us explore options we wouldn’t consider when given completely free rein to do what we want!

(also you don’t have to make a three dimensional image or anything, the title’s just a pun on how the third movie in a monster movie franchise will often be a 3-D film)

Read below the cut to learn the rules and whatnot:

THE RULES:

1.  You are limited to one entry per person.  Work hard and make your entry count!

2.  Your kaiju must have some sort of description of its physical appearance and its personality - you can submit a drawing or a written description (or both!) for the physical appearance depending on what you’re most comfortable with.  Using the same template/format as my official ATOM Kaiju Files (https://horrorflora.com/monster-menageries/atom-kaiju-files/) isn’t required, but it was cool when people did it in the last contest, so feel free to do so this time too!

3. The kaiju you create must specifically be created for this contest  - no repurposing characters you made for other, wildly different stories.  This is not “trick TT into drawing/canonizing my main OC” time.

4. The kaiju must fit the setting and aesthetics of ATOM.  I’ll explain this in more detail down below.

5. The kaiju should add something meaningful to the world of ATOM. The more unique and interesting your kaiju is, the more likely you will win the contest.

6. Don’t make your kaiju too dependent on pre-existing ATOM characters - no “Tyrantis’s long lost evil brother who’s the strongest kaiju in the world.” These should be to Tyrantis’s story what War of the Gargantuas is to Godzilla’s movies – heroes (well, monsters) of another story in the same world.

THE REWARDS:

I will make pencil sketches of the top 5 entries in the contest.

I will then make fully rendered illustrations (lineart, colors, & shading) of the top three entries.

The winning entry will be made into a model ala the ones I’ve been making for ATOM’s core 50 monsters, which can then be shipped to the person who created it (should they be able to cover the shipping costs).  That’s right, your kaiju could be brought to life in THREE GLORIOUS TECHNICOLOR DIMENSIONS!  (Hey, we worked the gag title in to the prizes!)

THE DEADLINE: All entries must be submitted by July 3rd, 2021.  You can submit it here on tumblr, via the horror flora e-mail, or any other channel you know how to reach me through.  I’m in a lot of places.

THE GUIDELINES (TO HELP YOUR ENTRY FIT THE RULES AND WIN):

The smartest thing you could do if you want to win this contest is familiarize yourself with the world of ATOM by, y’know, reading all the material I’ve published on the subject.  In addition to the many kaiju files that are free to read on horrorflora.com, there are now TWO, count ‘em, TWO novels in this series for you to peruse, both of which establish many of the rules of the setting as well as its general themes and tone!  You can get them in either paperback or e-book formatting (I’d recommend the former over the latter since I lack the technology to make a really nice ebook, but if money is an object, the kindle version is only $1).  Here’s the links again if you missed them:

Vol. 1: Tyrantis Walks Among Us!

Vol. 2: Tyrantis Roams the Earth!

However, since I know reading a bunch of stuff is, y’know, not something everyone is inclined to do, I’ll jot some good bullet points for you in an attempt to outline how ATOM works in a brief, easily digested way:

ATOM is an homage to the monster fiction of the 1950’s and 60’s (i.e. the Atomic Age), and is set in those two decades, albeit an alternate universe version of them where, y’know, monsters and space aliens exist.  If you aren’t familiar with the monster fiction I’m referring to, there will be some reference material provided at the end of this post along with some recommendations for further research.

Kaiju/giant monsters in ATOM work under very specific rules.  There’s a full description of those rules at this link, but here’s the jist:

ATOM Kaiju are created created by the radiation of a mineral called Yamaneon, which naturally converts harmful radiation into its own unique energy.  In natural circumstances, it takes hundreds of years of exposure to Yamaneon radiation for a creature to become fully transform into a kaiju (luckily, Yamaneon radiation slows the aging process while speeding up the healing process).  However, an explosive burst of energy - such as the geothermal and kinetic energy released by an earthquake, or the blast of a nuclear weapon - can speed up the process, turning a normal animal into a kaiju within a matter of seconds.  

All ATOM kaiju can heal grievous wounds within minutes or even seconds, are supernaturally strong and durable, and can convert harmful radiation to harmless energy that they then feed off of.  Kaiju do not have an equivalent of old age, and can theoretically live forever (though their violent lifestyle means that few do).

ATOM Kaiju generally don’t need to eat unless they are severely injured, getting most of the energy they need from solar or geothermal radiation - but many still have instincts that drive them to seek out food from time to time.

Most ATOM kaiju stand roughly 100 feet tall (depending on their body shape), i.e. smaller than the original 1954 Godzilla.  There are exceptions to this rule - younger kaiju can be smaller, while exceedingly old kaiju can be significantly larger, but these are rare.

In general, ATOM kaiju are significantly more intelligent and emotionally complex than people expect animals to be, though most are incapable of speech or complex tool use.  There’s a reason ATOM Kaiju Files have a “personality” section.

Most ATOM Kaiju are tooth and claw fighters - ranged weapons are a rarity in this setting.

While the terrestrial monsters in ATOM look strange, they are intended to fit within the taxonomy of animals in reality - reptiles, mammals, fish, arthropods, molluscs, etc.

ATOM’s mesozoic era was dominated by a fictional clade of crocodile-relatives called retrosaurs, which are based on the outdated paleoart that one would find in the 1950’s/60’s fiction - i.e. when dinosaurs were viewed as trail dragging lizards instead of strange birds.  You can learn more about retrosaurs here (https://horrorflora.com/2016/11/15/atom-kaiju-file-bonus-a-guide-to-retrosaurs/).

Kaiju appear on every continent in ATOM, but certain areas tend to be dominated by different types.

North America is mainly besieged by retrosaur kaiju and giant arthropods.

East Asia is technically also mainly plagued by retrosaurs and big arthropods, though they tend to look more fantastical and mythic - and, often, oddly well suited to being portrayed by a person wearing a monster suit.

Russia is beset by prehistoric monsters that seem to come from the Cenozoic, particularly the Ice Age.

Western Europe is plagued by creatures that vaguely resemble creatures from myth, if they were also prehistoric.  Dragon-y lizards, fiery birds, etc.

Towards the mid-way point of ATOM’s timeline, earth is invaded by a coalition of aliens from different solar systems called the Beyonder Alliance, and as a result a bunch of alien monsters can be found on earth.

Mars and Venus both host (or hosted in Mars’s case) animal life.  The surviving Martians colonized Venus, and sent some of their kaiju guardians to earth to help us fend off the Beyonders (who are responsible for the destruction of Mars’s ecosystem).  Martian and Venusian kaiju have specific anatomical quirks, which you can see by looking at these kaiju files:

Venusians:

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/03/atom-kaiju-file-29-karamtor/

Martians:

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-39-kemlasulla/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-40-podritak/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-41-sombarvot/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-38-ullawdra/

Giant robots exist in ATOM, but are big, bulky, and incredibly expensive.  Fancy beam weapons also exist, but are similarly clunky - there are no sleek, elegant machines in ATOM.

Since the fiction ATOM takes inspiration from was made at a time when interplanetary travel was only just beginning to be possible, its scope is significantly smaller than modern sci-fi.  Alternate universes/dimensions were pretty uncommon because the idea of alien planets still held a lot of wonder to it.  So, as a general rule, don’t try to go farther than the one galaxy.

ATOM is a setting for stories that are focused on humanity learning to coexist with monsters, rather than humanity destroying them.  A certain level of sympathy is put into almost every creature of its canon, even the ones that are meant to be villains.

REFERENCE MATERIAL

Here is a playlist of 1950′s monster movie trailers.  

Here is some reference material from various monster comics of the 50′s and 60′s. 

Good movies to track down to understand ATOM’s inspiration and tone include Ghidorah the 3 Headed Monster, Son of Godzilla, Destroy All Monsters, Them!, The Black Scorpion, 20 Million Miles to Earth, Gamera, The Giant Claw, and The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra.

And here’s the intro cutscenes for all the different giant monsters in the PS2 videogame War of the Monsters.

[smutandfluffohmy]

His Sweater #4

From: Smutandfluffohmy Pairings: George Weasley X Slytherin!Reader A/N:  How would y’all feel about George and the reader having a child?? (Not now, homeboy can’t even look at you much less take your pants off) Wait! Read it from the start (Part 1) Part 2? look no further (Part 2) The trilogy, but not really (Part 3)

Hanging on to George I tried to look anywhere but down or up. Where was there left to look? at the speeding trees passing us or perhaps Fred doing tricks on his broom? “Where are we going now?” I said clinging on the his shirt that I was sure going to be a wrinkly mess once we land.

“How about a drink and some food?” George yelled giving me a quick smile before looking back. Brooms the awful things, hypothetical I should learn how to ride one but the bloody things have no security.

“I’d l-” I smiled looking at him, Fred flew next to us interrupting me not even halfway.

“Merlin yes Hermione told me of this muggle place that’s in Diagon Alley.” Fred said flying under us, brilliant exotic muggle foods in Diagon Alley.

“Actually Y/n and I were thinking w-” George started saying and I frankly did not know what we were thinking as I for one was in fact I was wondering what food muggles ate.

Fred came back on the other side “Thinking about getting breakfast? Brilliant let’s go.” He said and I wondered what mental hoops he has his brain jump through to get to the conclusion of us wanting to eat breakfast at noon.

They landed the brooms in Diagon Alley that had a drastically different feel to it when it was not crowded by Hogwarts students. It all felt more grown up and I was starting to worry wee would get ratted out for being out of school. However we walked through the streets and sat down to eat without being thrown into Diagon Alley jail, I suspect that it had something to do with out frizzy hair and the twins towering over everyone.

Humming I looked over the menu, trying to figure out the odd names and what on earth was written down.‘hot dog’ blimey the muggles truly are ruthless if they serve up dog on a bun. Fred got up to go to the restroom and I for one was glad I could have some quiet without his excessive finger drumming which the worse part was that he didn't;t even play the drums.

George watched till Fred had disappeared behind the door before he even looked back at me. “You know I really meant what I said.” He said leaning in towards me, his forearms resting on the table top.

Leaning in I did the same “About marriage?” I questioned, while indeed a flattering offer I wouldn’t be too thrilled on getting marriage out of a business contract.

“No?” He mused, squinting at me as if it would further help him read my mind and with the look he was giving me I wondered for a second if he did in fact have that ability.

“Fred being a git?” I asked filling my head with bizarre thoughts to throw him off if he truly indeed was able to look into my mind.

“Yes but I mean about going out sometime.” He said, softer as if he were testing the waters to see my reaction. Perhaps I was wrong. He couldn’t read my thoughts.

I couldn’t help my face grow red at his suggestion. I guess this was what we were thinking on the ride over “Oh.” Was all I could say. After all how can you clearly answer when the guy you’ve been smitten with was a few inches away from you.

His eyes got big and frighten and his face drained of all color “If you don’t want to we don't have to I can go obliviate myself right now I-” He started going on, it’s something I learned about him. Whenever he gets particularly thrown off his mouth starts going speeds his brain can’t keep up with.

I reached over to gently pat his hand but by the way he reacted you would thought I reached over to strike him “George I ne-” I started to say, apparently interrupting people mid thought was a skill both twins were versed in. George started looking through his pockets and patting himself down.

“Merlin I can’t find my wand. Do you have your wand on you?” He said turning to me before rapidly looking away. I’ve seen him stunned but never to the point of obliviating himself, it was weird seeing the usually collected Weasley be so skittish.

“George calm d-”

He shook his head at me as if that were to make me disappear from were I sat. “I could always throw myself off my broom done it countless times what’s one more really.” He reasoned with himself, a skill I now knew he lacked greatly in.

Reaching over the table I clasped his hands down on the table “Merlin Weasley calm down I never said no.” I said looking at him wondering if perhaps I knocked my head a bit too hard and was now dreaming this all up. A peculiar dream but a dream none the less.

“Are you saying no now?” He looked at me trying to size me up, see if my eyes could give away the answer but I think if eyes held that much power I would’ve passed my O.W.L.S with much better marks.

“What? No! I’d love to go out sometime.”

“Alright that’s good. Swell indeed.” George gave me a tight smile but the color never returned to his face “I need to lie down I feel my heart about to explode.” He said and for a minute I wondered if I need to check his temperature and if I was even equipped to know the difference in a persons body temperature.

“I think it’s all the hash-browns you ate.” I said getting up from my seat to look at the state of him, I’d be real awful if I had accidentally killed him. He gave out a small laugh, not one that was earned but one that let me know that, at least for now, he was fine.

“George get off my seat.” Fred said swatting at his head and with that George sat up, noticeably more red but at least some of the color had returned to his face. “So what did I miss?”

George looked at the rather dull wall, in what I suspect that he suspect if he were to look at his brother he would know everything that happened in the time it took him to pee. “Nothing that concerns you Fredrick.” I said looking over the muggle menu for the tenth time waiting for the words to shift into something more comprehensible than ‘Coca-cola’.

Fred didn't believe us for a second and it was probably written all over our faces but how would I know. “Fine keep your secrets.” He said squinting his eyes at us before picking up and putting down the menu in front of him. “So how are we going to tell mum we dropped out?”

My blood ran cold at the thought that they had left out a vital plan out. Surving their mum, who I've heard various Weasley children say was rather scary, long enough to even set up shop.“You didn’t tell her?!”

George snapped out of his viewing of the rather bland wall “No figured we’d figure it out once we got to that part but” He said scratching below his eyebrow faking a deep thought that I knew he wasn’t capable of having.

“You complete our plans so well that we’re leaving it up to you.” Fred said airing fake responsibilities my way which I fake aired back to him rather aggressively.

“How generous.” I said with a tight lipped smile “I’m not doing it.” I shrugged leaning back on my chair and playing with a relatively loose button on my sweater.

Fred got quiet looking from George to me as if the answer to them living yet another day was encrypted there, somewhere. “You can snog George if you do it.” He said that made both George and I turn to look at each other with beat red faces, my hand tended making the button come off in my hand.

“Fred!” George said looking at his brother in utter disbelief and truly utter betrayal, I kicked Fred under the table wanting more than anything to melt into my seat.

He looked stunned as if he didn’t ruin out totally meticulous pinning we had come to perfect and that was all part of a bigger scheme and not at all because either of us were too scared to say anything.  “What! You’re both always drooling over each other anyways.”

I was at complete loss for words “I’m not going to do it even less.” I said trying to figure out what muggle song was playing if one at all.

“Ouch Georgie that hurt me a bit.” Fred laughed shoving George who I suspect also wished to kick Fred in the shins. Rubbing my temple I wondered if they left all working brain cells at Hogwarts or if they had fallen out on the broom ride over here.

“Hypothetically if I agreed to help you. I would say to have a clear thought out plan of how the shop is going to run, a layout, business transaction you’ve already done, some product-” I started speaking feeling myself get lost in the meticulously planning they had obviously neglected or perhaps just conveniently forgotten about.

Fred rapped his knuckles against the table giving me a smile. A smile George often has and despite having similar faces this smile fit differently on Fred. “I hear what you’re saying and I can’t wait for you to think that all over to show our mum. You’ll love her come on.” Fred smiled pushing out of his chair and making his way to the door, thrilled I didn’t have to eat any weird foods but disappointed at trying to figure out what exactly they were getting at.

Getting up I walked quickly to catch up with Fred “No you’re going to have to tell her yourself.” I said pulling Fred by the arm, knowing full well hell stroll out of here and force me to tell their mum as to why exactly they had already probably received a letter from Hogwarts.

“She is our mum.” George said shrugging behind me.

Fred looked over my head, a habit I wished they would both kick, to look at his brother in utter disbelief “Oi what’s this? Two against one isn’t fair.” Fred said pointing between the two of us giving me a look that if it were for not them doing the exact same thing to me I would feel utterly horrid.

“If we do it now we can catch her with Remus and Tonks, she won't come down at us that bad is she’s there.” George reasoned with him, an awful reasoning but a reasoning none the less. I don’t suspect our ex DADA Professor would back them up on their plan and although I did not know who Tonks was nor her character she must be really cool to back up their poorly thought out plan.

Fred huffed walking to get his broom“Fine whatever. Bloke is already whipped, what hope is there left.” he whispered, badly and rather loudly, I threw the button I had in my hand at his head “Ouch! I didn’t say anything.”

“I told him he’s shit at whispering.” I said rolling my eyes at the back at Fred’s head that he was rubbing. I know for a fact it didn’t hurt him, if he can tells bludgers to the head he’ll live with a brown button being thrown at it.

George bumped my shoulder “I think I owe you a snog.” he said laughing.

“Shut up.”

He walked in front of me stopping me in my tracks, he really was tall and for a second I wondered just how tall “How about that date?” he asked

“Let’s see if you’ll live long enough for that.” I laughed walking around him, I wonder if I could slip it into conversation or if that was just an incredibly rude thing to ask.

“You’re not coming with us?” He asked

“God no I don’t want your first impression your mum has of me is that I’m irresponsible.”

“But you are irresponsible!” Fred called out to me as he mounted on his broom, next time I see him I should give him a good wack with it.

I turned my attention away from George to throw a finger to Fred who promptly did the same “Shove off.” I called out to him, which earned me the disapproving glares from some elderly couple. Who I think would do the same if they were in my more fashionable and probably more gun powder smothered shoes.

“See you later?” George asked as he got on his own broom. Next time I’ll make sure to bring a portkey, at least you can’t swallow a whole colony of bugs in a portkey.

“Not if I see you first.” I said smiling walking the opposite direction of the seemingly dreadful scene that awaits them. They took on Umbridge and I’m more than sure that their mum is loads better than that woman. But I guess in all fairness he-who-shall-not-be-named is probably more agreeable than she is.

A couple days passed and George wrote to me saying that their mum was crossed they dropped out without them telling her. A sentiment that I think if they would’ve told her she’d probably nail their robes to the school. He also said Tonks was rather excited for them and that I simply must meet her. He also wrote that we should have our date at the end of the week at 10pm.

Knocking on the door I began to wonder if my outfit was even appropriate to were he was taking me. The door swung open before I could give more thought into my choice of clothes.

“Oh hello dear you must be the girl George has been telling us so much about!” Mrs. Weasley said taking me into a hug, she had the same vibrant red hair as all of her children and the same kind eyes George had. Fred however I reckoned stole his eyes from the bloody devil himself.

“I swear he talks about you whenever you’re not around.” Fred said making talking motions with his hands and fake gagging at the thought of it. As if he himself didn’t also spend most of his time talking to me.

“What? No I don't!” George said between varying shades of red, an accomplishment I would've found rather amusing if not for my own face heating up.

Thumbing could be heard of someone coming down the stairs “Fred hav- oh this must be the girl George talks about all the time.” Who I assumed to be Mr.Weasley said and further solidifying my theory on Freds eyes.

I smiled at both of them “Hi it’s very nice to meet you.”  I said sticking my hand out for a proper greeting before it got yanked by George.

“We should get going.” he said waving his family off, for a second I forgot that we were not sticking around. I had so many things I wanted to talk about like Mr.Weasleys muggle studies and if he knows how those miniature jukeboxes work and how Mrs.Weasley make the warmest sweaters.

“Bu-” Was all I could say, not only because I was cut off but because I did not know were or if I even had a formed thought to continue that sentence.

George said over me dragging me away “Bye don’t wait up!”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Fred called out to him before earning a smack on the arm from Mrs.Weasley.

“What wouldn’t you do?” George shouted at him and I wondered what in fact wouldn't he do besides actually come up with a reasonable non-lethal plan.

“George Weasley remember what we talked about!” Mrs.Weasley called out to George was tugging at my arm to drag me to his broom faster.

“I remember!” he called out dismissing them with a wave. I do not know what they had talked about and wondered if this was a werewolf situation and if it was I don’t think I’m prepared to be turned or mauled into one. Although I don’t thing anyone is ever ready for that.

“It was nice meeting you Mrs. and Mr. Weasley!” I called out waving goodbye to them the best I could and I could only guess they were waving at me too.

“It was nice meeting you too dear!” Mrs. Weasley called to me, I hope I could get the chance to talk to her again. George hurried me on towards the broom without another looks back at his family.

“What was that about?” I questioned that I both did and did not want the answers to. If I was being turned into a werewolf I rather it being kept a fun surprise.

“Nothing. Close your eyes.”He said standing in front of me motioning me to sit on the broom which I in fact did not do. “You don’t trust me?”

In all reality I trusted him with my life, however I did not entirely trust him with my life on a broom “I trust that you won’t let me die but I reckon if I fall off the broom you won’t notice.” 

He smiled down at me placing his hands on my arms “I’ll notice before you hit the ground.”

“Charming.”

Crossing his heart he beckoned me to sit down “I swear I’ll take care of you.” He said and I swore I would melt as pathetic as that did sound.

Nodding I sat down and closed my eyes “Okay fine I’m trusting you on this.” I murmured. Time passed just like how kilometers passed but I could not entirely say just how many as I did promise to keep my eyes closed. George landed the broom with I took as cue that I could both open my eyes and I was in fact not dead. “Where are we?” I asked, the field around us was empty but filled with flowers and the spots that weren't were layered with grass. 

George tugged me towards an already set up spot with a blanket laid out and various other things set on top of it that I couldn’t exactly make out “If I tell you it won’t be as impressive.” He sat down on the blanket “Come sit.” He beckoned me over patting the spot next to him. We both laid down looking up at the stars, I’ve never seen them this bright and it made me a bit cross that if I knew they looked like this I would've payed more attention in class. 

George pointed up at the sky  “That star looks like you.” I moved closer to see which one he was pointing at. He got a jelly bean out of the box and ate one “Yack lawn clippings.” he said through some disgusted chewing then proceeded to offer me one.

I put it in my mouth cautiously chewing swearing that if I got a barf flavored one I’d personally have a word with the creators “Dead?Popcorn.” I said thankful it wasn’t awful but also confused as to how exactly they made a jelly bean taste of popcorn. He took out more jelly beans handing some over to me before putting one in his mouth.

He smiled at me and for the second time in my life I felt completely stricken by George Weasley “No radiant.Hot chocolate.” He said breaking my fleeting train of thought that had become increasingly harder to keep up with, with him around.

Shaking my head I couldn't help but feel embarrassed, a feeling I often felt around him but never this strong.Never enough to make me at loss for words. “You’re such a sap.” I laughed looking at the star he pointed at trying to commit it to memory, but it seemed the more I looked the more it looked like all the other stars.

“You make me one.” He said turning to me before eating another jelly bean “Cherry Fizz. What did you get?” He asked turning to me, propping myself up with one hand not particularly minding the rocks gently digging against my palm.

“Hmm I don’t know what are the flavors again?” I said reaching over to the box but before I could George grabbed my hand in his. His face was dangerously close to mine and I was overly aware of my breathing.

I leaned in closer trying to ignore the loud beating of my heart that I could feel through my body.His other hand cupped the side of my face that he caressed with his thumb. He broke the small distance his lips softly pressed against mine, he smelt of the outdoors and fireworks and I could feel myself getting lost in it.

His hand moved from my hand to my knee, the two being fairly closed together but feeling I got in the pit of my stomach made me lean into his touch. My hand rested on his arm, touching the sweater I made my familiar acquaintance with last year.

He broke the kiss giving me the same goofy smile I’ve seen plenty of times but for once I knew why “I think it’s butterbeer.” He said slightly out of breathe, my lip gloss was smeared all over his mouth and I suspect mine as well. What was that rule? No kissing on the first date? Whoever made that up has obviously never been star gazing with George Weasley.

What felt like minutes had passed before I could trust myself with my voice again. “You’re going to be the death of me Weasley.” I whispered, my heart felt tight and my palms were sweaty. I wanted to reach over and cup his face but I was afraid this moment will disappear if I made any movements out fo script.

It wasn’t till the end of the year did George, Fred and I hear the news about Sirius Blacks passing. Everyone blamed themselves swearing that if it they were just there ,a minute earlier, if they hadn’t stoped for that cup of coffee three days ago everything would be different, Sirius would still be alive. But I don’t think that the case, I think more of us or someone else might be dead if we were all there. Death is unpredictable and we are all just one wrong move away from it.

I do feel bad for Harry. Seeing your Godfather die in front of you must be an awful thing. I feel bad sometimes, smiling, especially smiling in front of him. I feel like I’m mocking him but I hope he knows that those aren’t my intentions.Hermione keeps saying that time will make things better but time hasn’t been feeling the same.

Time all together feels altered. Everything moves at speeds it’s not supposed to but I reckon that's the effect looming danger has on people. I cannot tell how long I’ve been dating George Weasley but it’s been long enough that I know he’s fond of sweets but only after 12, he thinks muggles know more than they’re letting on, pranks are better without a purpose and balls of yarn are great for baby quidditch.

[hollandsrecs]

completed series masterlist (1)

links last checked 16/12/2020 | more masterlists here

2 hearts, 22 calibers by heyhihellowhatsup0

summary: despite discovering the new owner of the club you work at may have his own secrets hidden, the temptation to get closer to him outweighs your trepidation...

12 days of christmas by keepingupwiththeparkers

24 hour, long lasting by madmadmilk

summary: a clumsy you, a tube of long lasting lipstick, a small case of stumbling, a stain, and a boy you never imagined to meet.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

against the agenda by cosmetologynerd

summary: he was tom holland; love was not on the agenda. 

all of the lights by spiderboytherescue

always, yours by angelicholland

summary: you always knew you loved your best friend but you figured that he would never feel the same way, so you set those useless feelings aside. how will you cope when you find a box of letters that tells you otherwise? is it too late to let go of the butterflies trapped deep within you? would he even feel the same way anymore?

apartment 509 by sweetlysilent

summary: tom brings girls home almost daily, something that bothers you to the end of the world; whereas on the other hand you rarely go out, spending majority of your time focused on your studies, something that drives tom insane, the tension between the two of you becoming thicker, even more when he finds out you have a study date.

attachment by hazinhoodies

summary: maybe you held on a little too tight. you were only trying to salvage the most important relationship of your life.

beneath the waves by cosmetologynerd

summary: “please, i wish to be free.” 

black beauty by blissfulparker

summary: tom, the king of hell, has no time for love or any woman in his life. he spends his days finding new punishments for the people who deserve it. you, spend your days in heaven making everyone happy. never wanting a soul to feel down. what happens when heaven decides to send you down to join tom in hell? why would they send their best angel to the devil himself?

born king by spiderboytotherescue

breaking curfew by wazzupmrstark

summary: when you got the job to be a counsellor at the summer camp you’d grown up attending all your life, you expected to see some familiar faces. but you certainly hadn’t counted on having to work alongside the boy who had made it his life’s mission to make your life a living hell every summer. in fact, you thought you’d never have to see tom holland again. but he’s is in the cabin right across from yours with campers of his own- smirk, jawline, and all. if you didn’t know any better you might’ve thought that he applied for the position just to spite you, but who were you kidding? what kind of asshole would do something like that?

clear by peeterparkr

summary: y/n is in town for summer, she wants the sea to wash away the pains of the past, however when a certain surfer comes into her life, the remaining salt might not decant, but maybe some sweet surprises might come to shore

complications by loserparker

summary: being roommates with tom was easy, fun. that is until feelings started getting involved. throw in the fact that both of you suck at communication and things are bound to get complicated.

contrapposto by madmadmilk

summary: you desperately needed a figure model for your upcoming art final and you find a friend willing to pose for you.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

dare you to move by starksparker

summary: friends with benefits is supposed to be just that. friends with the benefits of fooling around and not having anything more than platonic feelings. easy, fun, thrilling, no one gets hurt…right?

determined by blesshimnorris

summary: you are enjoying university life with your fellow housemates, except for tom, who seems to avoid or tease you every chance he gets. but with your birthday slowly approaching he finally tries to make amends.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

dine and dash by blissfulparker

summary: tom comes into your diner every tuesday and thursday, it is no secret that he only goes for you. when will he ever be brave enough to say something, when will you ever be brave enough to let him in?

eighteen by angelicholland

summary: y/n is tom’s math tutor and needed a date for sunday dinner. tom has tattoos all over and just looks like the type of guy who would piss off her parents. will their fake relationship turn into something so much more?

eloped by worldoftom

summary: you and tom have been in a secret relationship for a long time, but what would you do if tom proposed unexpectedly during your vacation in casablanca, morocco?

every step of the way by sunshinehollandd

summary: you and tom are best friends, and you have been for as long as you can remember. after one night, everything changes. but, tom is by your side every step of the way.

ex on the beach by heyhihellowhatsup0

summary: eight months after your ugly breakup with tom, you find yourself stuck together for two whole weeks at a private beach house. just you, tom, some mutual friends, what could possibly go wrong?

for king or country by avengers-sweethearts

summary: from the time you were a child you always lived in the castle. your mother and father were both servants and even after they died you stayed on as one yourself. prince yom was always someone you admired from afar. he was the nicest out of all the holland royalty and incredibly handsome. along the way of your daily duties the prince begins to pay you more attention when you save him from an awkward situation. things get more complicated when his jealous betrothed princess zendaya comes to court and stirs up trouble for the forbidden romance. will prince tom follow his heart or stay true to his country? most importantly of all, will you even make it out alive?

forbidden rose by avengers-sweethearts

summary: if there was one person who knew how to throw a party, it was tom holland. in 1922 partying wasn’t uncommon, but a tom holland party was like none ever seen before. the young billionaire thrived off of rumors and speculation. despite the parties being held weekly, no one had ever seen the mystery man. tom intended to keep it that way until one night an enchanting woman caught his eye. but what happens when her cruel fiancé is tangled up with demons from his past. will their love be enough to overcome the trouble that lies ahead?

forever by starksparker

summary: what happens when a fuckboy with some anger issues and a bad streak is forced to work alongside someone who’s his opposite? and what happens if they can be ripped from him in seconds?

ground rules by madmadmilk

summary: you just love holding someone, and being held. It’s not a hard thing to ask for, but it sure can be hard for someone to understand.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

happiness is a butterfly by blissfulparker

summary: you and tom spend your whole lives looking for your soulmates. how could you not see that you two were right under each other’s noses both coming from a mob family?

heart eyes by madmadmilk

summary: tom holland is a friend that you only see once or twice a year, but when the stars align and you finally start to get close to him again you realize that… you’ve never really known each other at all. he has an emoji tailing after every contact on his phone… but none for you. hm. a soft and bumbling story about how you get to know him, and how he gets to know you.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

heartbreak weather by t-holland2080

summary: after getting out of a rough relationship, you meet tom, who pulls you out of your heartbreak weather.

heavenly yours by tomsrebeleyebrow

summary: angels live in a perfect world. in a complete ivory tower. but loving someone else is forbidden. a true sin.

hostility by starsholland

summary: everything was going well in your life, living in LA, trying to make it big as a journalist, but all of that is foiled when tom holland walks into your life bringing drama and negativity. how much will you be able to take before you finally lose it?

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

hotlanta by hollandorks

summary: a fun night in atlanta forces the reader into a fake relationship with celebrity tom holland in order to save both of their careers.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

how to unlove someone by whatevsholland

i only feel you by stuckonspidey

summary: a world in which soulmates feel their other half, physically and emotionally. y/n has given up on finding her soulmate, given up on trying to decipher the sensations he feels and the lifestyle he leads–prompting her to give up on him. her other half, she’d come to find, is the leader of the holland crime family, and in no means the easiest person to love.

kiss currency by madmadmilk

summary: swapping underwear with your best friend’s best friend, while maintaining your cool composure. he’s cute, he’s funny, and you’d be down to kiss him at least once. :)

chapters: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3

lacuna by thollandss

summary: being friends with benefits with a celebrity isn’t easy. nobody said it was.

limits of desire by peeterparkr

summary: you met tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize how you really feel.

london boy by tonguetiedholland

summary: you’re a famous singer and actor whose break up with ex boyfriend, shawn mendes, has just hit the media. when it all feels a bit too much you do the only reasonable thing you can think of, escape to london and lay low for a little while. who knew that tom holland, the boy you’d only met once but had you in the palm of his hand when you did and vice verse, would also be in london at the same exact time?

lucky number by tomhollanders2013

summary: what happens when one of the world’s most famous celebrities accidentally dials your number instead of his new assistant’s... is it a happy accident or a recipe for disaster?

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

miss yer kiss by angelicholland

summary: a one-night stand turned something more, you and tom meet again against the odds. an aspiring tattoo artist and a famous actor with “i miss you” on the tip of your tongues meet again and again as you slowly realize what love looks like.

model for me by thollandss

summary: in which you are a photographer for GQ, and during a private session with tom holland, you find yourself getting to know him very well.

money can’t buy you love by hilllsnholland

summary: y/n has worked her whole life to get into the prestige university of her dreams. nothing can stop her, right? maybe tom holland, son of billionaires and the poster child of privilege, who has made it his mission to woo the ‘scholarship baby’.

more than i know by lauras-collection

summary: you need a date for your sister’s wedding and the stranger in the coffee shop seems to be the perfect choice. until you see pictures of yourself and him all over the internet because apparently he’s an international movie star and now the whole world thinks you’re dating. and you have to give the people what they want, right? even if it’s fake.

naughty or nice by avengers-sweethearts

summary: the holidays are the worst time to be alone, especially in a brand new city with a brand new job. when an unexpected meeting with famous actor tom holland ends in the exchanging of phone numbers you find yourself in the dangerous position of falling in love with hollywood’s hottest and most eligible bachelor. unable to help yourself, you being to fall for the handsome actor and will do almost anything to earn his affection. trying to balance work, love, and the holiday proves to be more of a challenge than you had initially thought. the million-dollar question is what side of tom’s christmas list will you end up on: naughty or nice?

of broken promises and heartbreak by softspiderling

summary: it’s been six years since you and tom broke up, six years since you’ve last seen each other. a lot has happened, tom got insanely famous, making countless billion dollar movies, attending one red-carpet event after the other. but now he was attending one event, he wasn’t sure he was ready for. your wedding. and he wasn’t attending as your groom.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

paint the grass green by lauras-collection

summary: a complicated relationship ends when tom breaks up with you after a fight. but it’s about to get more complicated. because how are you going to tell him that you’re pregnant if he won’t let you talk to him? so you don’t. years later you run into harrison, and there’s no denying that it’s tom’s son who’s tightly holding onto your hand. harrison gives you an ultimatum: either you tell tom, or he will.

peppermint by hollandandi

perfidy by peeterparkr

summary: tom and you have been sworn enemies since you were young. however you happened to be best friends with the twins. when one of your friends challenged you to break tom’s heart, you immediately accepted to get back at him for all the times he’s hurt you. old feelings might come back, while both of you try to go past your pride and your lies.

philanthropy by museinmind

summary: things seemed to be going too well in your life when you became your sorority’s president. so of course something has to go sideways somehow, and you end up having to take a chemistry class if you want to graduate next year. so what better person to tutor you than tom, the frat ultra hot boy who hides the fact he has textbooks nearly memorized?

pinky promises by sunshinehollandd

summary: being a single dad to a four-year-old isn’t easy, but tom figures out a way to make it work with the help of his best friend.

season of reunions by unbelievableholland

summary: you were adopted by 2 mysterious agents. you knew you were adopted and you never thought about your original family. being content with the life your parents gave you, why would you? that was, until your parents are killed and you’re left to fend for yourself and with a lot of questions unanswered.

seeing the thing by angelicholland

summary: you’re stage-managing your school’s spring show, almost, maine when you’re taken out of your element by a cocky boy with a dazzling smile and a way to your heart that makes you hate him before you can see the thing.

sincerely, by whatevsholland

summary: you and tom were childhood best friends. but when he started dating the girl who got everything you ever wanted, it began a falling out between you and tom. now he’s back home in london, just in time for your sister to host her engagement party.

single all the way by heyhihellowhatsup0

summary: when tom finds out he has to go home for christmas, he decides to formulate plan so he doesn’t have to run into his ex alone. you.

soulmate by spiderboytotherescue

summary: sometimes finding your soulmate doesn’t always happen where you expect it too. and sometimes, you’re just not ready to fall head over heels in love just yet.

sweetener by keepingupwiththeparkers

summary: okay, so maybe lecture hall proximity and roast calibre weren’t the only reasons for your frequent visits to this particular coffee shop. maybe there was a certain brown eyed brunette who worked there, and maybe he always gave you two stamps on your loyalty card instead of one, and maybe you liked watching his back muscles shift under his stupidly tight t-shirt while he pumped sweet vanilla syrup into your cup. maybe.

take me out by angelicholland

summary: you killed people, people who deserved it, but you killed people and that was your reality. killing is a job for one person. add another and it gets messy. things don’t happen by chance, not in your line of work. you held people’s lives in your hands and made the active decision to end them. what happens when you team up with a gorgeous man with a charming british accent to take out a prolific user of a sex trafficking website? but it was not by chance that you fell in love with him, it was the worst decision you could’ve ever made.

the fame game by duskholland

summary: there’s just something about tom holland that makes your blood boil. he walks around like he owns the world, always with an unhelpful quip or irritating smirk on hand. you can’t stand him, and your feud has burned hard and bright for three years. everything changes following an explosive evening at the oscars, when a questionable encounter with the paparazzi lands you in some hot water with PR. the only way to save your shattered public image is to agree to the unthinkable: tom will be your boyfriend, and you will be his girlfriend - and this might just be your hardest performance to date.

the jar series by libertybarnes

summary: tom holland, notorious mob boss, meets a single mother and her bubbly child and has to learn to live life with something to lose.

the king by sadchappuccino

summary: y/n is an angel who fell from heaven, tom is the king of hell. will they put that aside and fall in love?

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

the missing piece by avengers-sweethearts

summary: when you graduated with an elementary education degree you were lost. you thought you wanted to be a teacher but you weren’t entirely sure if it would make you happy. as you’re in between jobs, you’re lucky enough to stumble upon the opportunity to be a nanny for the very rich and very handsome single father, tom holland. tom is busy running a company and he doesn’t want his daughter ella to be alone or sent to a daycare. things get crazy when you move in with the little family. between some secrets about alla and the undeniable attraction between you and tom you’re not sure what your role is to this family. do you keep it professional or do you risk it all and take the chance of falling for tom? only time will tell if you’re the missing piece.

the situationship by fairytelling

summary: a cup of tea can solve just about any problem. except, it can’t solve your confusing, headache-inducing ‘situationship’ with your university flatmate, tom holland.

to new beginnings by petersshirts

summary: it’s time to settle down and when your best friend asks you to have a child with him, how could you say no?

two lies and a truth by lauras-collection

summary: you wanted a fresh start. and uni seemed like the perfect opportunity. until you bump into tom. he says he’s sorry for everything he’s done to you. but can you trust him?

untitled by marvelbws

summary: suits, smirks, and a major sex appeal.

vlogs by spideyyeet

summary: being in the vlog squad was dope af but having david dobrik run into tom holland and getting him to surprise you was a whole other thing. now let’s see what’s it like to have tom meet the vlog squad and be with the girl that’s making him rethink some decisions.

we’re only kidding ourselves by wazzupmrstark

summary: you work as a production assistant for the spider-man: far from home crew, or rather as tom holland’s handler. the two of you don’t get along very well to say the least, but you won’t quit and he can’t fire you so you’re stuck with each other.

wicked games by captainmarvels

summary: in which tom holland, overwhelmed by his personal demons, seeks comfort in the only ways he knows how; spending money and rough fucking. the hotheaded ceo with major daddy issues can’t seem to get it quite right when it comes to you, but is there hope for his heart?

with love, tom by thollandss

summary: when an envelope addressed to tom makes its way into your mailbox, you realize he has enlisted in the army. your walls begin to crumble down at the idea of him leaving you like this. alone for eight weeks. he makes a promise to you, a promise that every week he is gone, he will send you an update letter... but soon enough, you start to not receive them.

yellow roses by grussell63

summary: tom’s mother has him participate in a bachelor-like dating competition, because she is tired of him sleeping around. furthermore she decides to bring in his best friend to spy on the contestants. is tom going to find the one amongst the 12 candidates or is he just going to play his little games?

chapters: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | EPILOGUE

[maximumphilosopheranchor]

Philip II wrote poetry!

I’m reading Geoffrey Parker’s Spanish biography of Philip and in doing so happen to learn things I haven’t heard before because it offers more complete information than his biographies in English. Yesterday I discovered that Philip wrote poetry and had written a brief book! How cool is that? It was such a news for me! 

It’s said that he wrote the book in 1560 but sadly nothing else is know about it except the title - El Orden de las Criaturas y admirable artificio del Creador which means The Order of Creatures and the admirable artifice of the Creator.

And there are two pieces of poetry survived that are attributed to him.

The first is written in a type of poem called “glosa” and it goes:

Lo que se debe entender,

fortuna de tu caudal,

es que, siendo temporal.

no puedes satisfacer

el alma que es inmortal.

Tú me diste y me vas dando

honra, estado, reino y mando;

y es tan poco cuanto das

que digo de cuando en cuando:

- Contentamiento ¿dó estás?

Quien te busca entre contentos

Contento, tenga entendido

que te pierde y ha perdido

porque entre los descontentos

sueles estar escondido.

Y si Dios, fuera de ti,

padeció penas por mí,

para entrar en donde estás,

el que no va por aquí

no sabe por dónde vas.

(Translation made by Google translator and me so don’t rely on it too much because it’s the 16th century poetry and my knowledge of Spanish and English is not perfect and I welcome corrections from the Spanish speakers but at least it gives some idea what this verse is about:

What should be understood,

fortune of your wealth,

is that, being temporary.

you can't satisfy

the soul that is immortal.

You gave me and you are giving me

honor, status, kingdom and rule;

and it's so little how much you give

That I do say from time to time:

- Contentment, where are you?

Who looks for you between happy

Happy, understand

that he loses you and has lost

because among the discontented

you are usually hidden.

And if God, outside of you,

suffered pain for me

to get into where you are

the one who does not go around here

does not know where you are going.)

The second is written in a form of “octava real” and it goes:

Larga cuenta que dar de tiempo largo,

término breve, transito forzoso,

terrible tribunal, juicio amargo,

hasta los mismos Santos espantoso.

Muchas las culpas, débil el descargo,

recto juez y, entonces, riguroso

pleito que va a gozar de Dios eterno

o a penar para siempre en el infierno.

( Translation made by Google translator and me so don’t rely on it too much because it’s the 16th century poetry and my knowledge of Spanish and English is not perfect and I welcome corrections from the Spanish speakers but at least it gives some idea what this verse is about:

Long count to give long time, 

short term, forced transition,

terrible tribunal, bitter judgment,

even to the same Saints dreadful.

The faults are many, the release is weak

upright judge and, then, rigorous

lawsuit that is going to enjoy eternal God

or to grieve forever in hell.)

[lovelylogans]

debutante

previous chapter / chapter three / next chapter

part of the wyliwf verse.

warnings: mentions of transphobia, food mentions, alcohol, kissing, someone makes an approach as if they’re going to start a fistfight but they do not, please let me know if i’ve missed anything else!

pairings: logince, moxiety

words: 15,031

notes: the spanish is from an online translator, so if it’s terribly wrong, please let me know! also, the emails in this are fake, please don’t try to email them, pretty sure they don’t exist lol. also the wine advice is from my general family's ideas about the value of wine, but the pretentious way you're meant to drink wine was taught to me when i was in italy by some other students who went to sommelier class, a few days before i posted the first chapter of wyliwf, so

⁂

patton’s lingering over one last (decaf, darn virgil) mug of cocoa/coffee when the bell over the door jangles. 

patton turns to glance over his shoulder and automatically brightens when he sees that it’s logan.

“hey!” he says eagerly. “i hope everything at the slange’s went okay, and even if it didn’t, i have masterfully wrangled virgil into allowing you to select a sweet treat of your choosing, or we can stop by lucy’s, if you want, and—oh!”

because logan had made a beeline straight for the counter, and has wrapped his arms around patton, burying his face in his shoulder.

“oh,” patton says softly, because—because logan’s not much of a hugger, and if he’s hugging him now... 

patton immediately wraps his arms around logan in kind, rubbing a hand up and down his back as he does so. logan’s taller than him—patton distantly wonders if that will ever not be strange to him—and so he has to duck his chin to place his face into the space between patton’s neck and shoulder. patton squeezes tighter, and logan shivers a little bit.

“oh, hey, buddy, are you okay?”

logan nods, but he doesn’t say anything, lingering with his face pressed into patton’s sweater for a couple seconds, taking a couple deep breaths, shoulders relaxing slowly, oh so painstakingly slowly, before he emerges, looking slightly embarrassed, in a way that feels distinctly teenager-y.

“sorry.”

“you don’t gotta apologize for hugging me, kiddo,” patton says, frowning, reaching out to cup logan’s cheek. “is everything okay?”

“yeah,” he says. “just—” and he awkwardly reaches out to poke patton’s shoulder. “y’know. you’re my dad.”

“well, yeah,” patton says, still a little confused. “super thrilled i’m your dad, lo, have been for sixteen years and—how many days has it been since your birthday?”

logan’s lips twitch up into a little smile, and he settles into the chair next to him.

“d’you wanna talk about it?” patton says.

logan shakes his head, and he says very quietly, “not here.”

patton nods, absorbing this, but before he can say anything else, virgil comes out from the kitchen, rag and spray bottle in hand, ready to wipe down the counter.

“oh, hey, you’re back!” virgil says. “uh, your dad’s been taking decaf most of the night in order to get you a sweet, if you want one, even though nutrition doesn’t work like it’s split across two people—”

“can i get a brownie?” logan asks. “no offense, virgil, i just—kind of want to get home.”

“that’s cool,” virgil says, not at all offended. “one brownie, to go, comin’ right up.”

and so virgil plucks a brownie from the pastry case with a pair of tongs, setting it in a wax paper bag, before sealing that inside of a virgil’s diner to-go bag, passing it across the counter. “see you tomorrow for breakfast?”

“breakfast,” patton confirms, and leans forward, cheerfully demanding “kiss!”

virgil obligingly leans forward the rest of the way, giving patton a quick peck. patton passes over enough money to cover his meal and a tip, before he gently taps logan on the shoulder. 

“let’s go, then, the couch is calling my name,” patton says, like he isn’t even a little worried about what could have prodded logan into hugging him out of the blue.

they step out into the night, the bell jangling in harmony with virgil’s goodbye. patton tucks himself a little more snugly into his jacket—spring may be approaching, but winter wasn’t letting go without a fight, so he was stuck with steel-gray cold mornings and too-early sunsets for a while longer—looking over to logan, who’s backlit by the street lamps and the fairy lights dotting a few of the buildings around town. 

his face doesn’t give anything away. it almost never does, but patton studies his face anyways; stiff and unyielding, eyes sharp and looking out for any oncoming traffic. patton wishes a little bit that logan’s face would at least give him a little hint as to what happened at the slange’s, but logan just looks like he normally does, if a little stressed, and that could be for any number of reasons—school, or tiny bureaucratic roadblocks for the debutante ball, or a fight with dee, or just something to do with dee in general.

either way, patton jerks his head in the usual direction they walk to get home, and logan nods, falling into step beside him, the pair of them mirroring each other’s posture; hands in coat pockets, faces ducked to shield from any stray gusts of wind, their pace the same, the way it only ever is when you’re very used to walking to the same places with the same person.

they walk in silence for a couple minutes before logan takes a deep breath.

“can i ask you a morality question?”

patton smiles, just a little—journalistic morality and ethics questions are always interesting conversations with logan, as patton’s innate moral compass works well with logan’s encyclopedic knowledge of the history of journalism, so they tend to spend almost hours talking about stuff like this, hypothetical situations they can puzzle over together. plus, it’s a nice little insight into something logan’s so passionate about; it’s something they can do together that increases patton’s appreciation for logan’s talent.

“‘course you can!”

logan chews at the inside of his cheek for a few seconds, getting his question in order, before he says, “let’s say i’m interviewing someone. a peer.”

“yes.”

“and, not due to any prodding from said peer, i come into knowledge of something from… that peer’s family.”

ah. okay. so this might not be a hypothetical question.

“yes,” patton says cautiously.

“and if a previously established… editor,” logan says, edging carefully around it. “already knows sensitive information about said peer that was previously, ah. decided against publishing. if the reporter wished to ask advice, should they ask the editor, or keep said knowledge to themselves?”

patton rolls the question around in his head, removing the hypothetical-ness of it all. so, if patton knows sensitive information about dee that he’s already keeping secret, and if logan found out something else, then is it okay for logan to tell patton about it?

if patton knows one thing about dee, it’s that he’s secretive. the fact that dee has secrets isn’t surprising. the part that’s surprising him is that logan feels the need to get his dad’s opinion on the secret. so that probably means it’s a pretty serious secret—logan’s a smart kid, he knows what to do in a lot of situations, so if he feels like he needs patton’s help...

“well,” he says cautiously. “um. i guess it depends on the knowledge itself. is it going to hurt d—um, the peer, if no one knows? is it something that puts them in danger?”

“...no,” logan says. “i—ah, the reporter doesn’t think it will put the peer in physical danger.”

patton frowns. “so it would be more of an emotional distress situation.”

“yes,” logan says, relieved. “yes, exactly. it would put the peer in emotional distress. it causes the peer emotional distress.”

“currently?” patton says, frowning deeper.

“yes.”

“is the peer alone in knowing this? do they have other people to talk to about this in their personal life, not just the reporter and their editor?”

“technically,” logan says and frowns. “the peer and their family… employs people. so, the staff are aware of the situation, but they aren’t—friends.”

“the peer’s family?” patton says, glancing. “is that an option, for them to talk to their family?”

logan’s face deepens into a scowl. “it seems like that is not an option, given the information that the reporter has learned about the peer’s family.”

patton sighs, because, well. he probably should have expected that. dee’s dad was never particularly kind, but. he’d been hoping things like marriage and fatherhood might have changed him.

“um,” logan says, and gives patton a sidelong glance. “i thought a potential solution could be… offering the peer a space to come in and sl—um. interview. in the presence of the editor who already knows things. because the reporter feels out of their depth, but—but maybe the peer will decide to discuss things with the editor, who seems to have more expertise in this… area.”

the sleepover text, patton realizes. logan bringing dee over doesn’t just mean more planning, or an easy place for dee to stay after Get Cultured day; it’ll mean that patton will be there, too, and if they all get to talking, like last time, and dee lets something slip, like last time, or (more preferably to patton) if dee decides that patton seems like an adult he can trust with information, if patton seems like an adult who can give out sound advice...

“that seems like a great choice for the reporter to have made,” patton says, smiling at logan. “not divulging any confidences, but offering a way for the peer to decide if they want further support or not. agreed. that was a good moral exercise.” 

logan nods. “on a completely unrelated note, i texted you earlier—”

“oh, yeah, totally unrelated,” patton agrees, winking. “but—yeah, that sounds good to me! totally down for that, it’s been a while since you’ve had a slumber party. have you already asked dee over?”

“no, not yet,” logan says, and that line of conversation has carried them to the front door of their house, where patton steps ahead of logan to unlock the door and let him in, flicking on the light as logan divests himself of his backpack and his jacket.

“well, you can go ahead and do that, i may as well mention now that you don’t need to get some gloves, i ordered some,” patton says, “so we can cross that off the list. um, your escort—what’s her name again?”

“poppy,” logan says.

“right, poppy,” patton says. “one, do you know if she’s coming to Get Cultured day, and two, does she have a tux?”

“i’ll text her and ask,” logan says. simultaneously, they collapse on the couch. logan makes no move to text her. instead, he frees his brownie from virgil’s, breaks it in half, and hands one half to patton. patton, grinning, accepts it.

“so,” patton says, taking a bite of the brownie. “how was the slange’s house, anyway?”

logan turns wide, beleaguered eyes to patton. “rich people are ridiculous.”

patton snorts and tucks his legs up underneath him, propping his head on his hand. “tell me about it.”

⁂

dee’s eyebrows arch at him as logan opens up his lunchbox. logan’s had his lunchbox for a few years, so it’s not quite as pristine as it was when he first bought it, after a lot of time spent in backpacks with heavy textbooks, and dropped on the ground, and shoved into lockers, but logan still likes the design of it—it’s black, with white sketchings of chemical formulas.

logan glances at his ziplocked jam sandwich and back up at dee. “what?”

“i don’t know how you can eat the same thing every day,” dee says.

“just for lunch,” logan says, removing a clementine. “and the fruits and vegetables change seasonally. dessert depends on what grocery store sales are on. what do you have for lunch, anyway?”

dee, wordlessly, proceeds to remove a gold-foil-wrapped something from his lunchbox, a black yeti-branded one, and logan eyes it.

“that’s excessive,” he tells dee.

dee shrugs. “yellow and gold are my favorite colors. shortly followed by black.”

“what, not brown?” logan says, eyeing his cape. “also, do you have a special understanding to flout uniform rules? ted grayson got pink-slipped because he wasn’t wearing a jacket or a sweater, how do you get away with—” he gestures vaguely to the bowler hat, the cape, the yellow gloves.

dee’s smile flits across his face so fast that logan thinks he might have imagined it, before he pulls out his phone.

“if you ever come to my parents’ house, i’ll show you my pink slip collection,” dee says decisively. he hands over the phone to logan, and logan obligingly looks.

it’s a wall full of filled-out pink slips.

“it’s the most precious art piece i own,” dee says in an officious tone, taking his phone back.

“how have you not been expelled,” logan breathes out disbelievingly.

dee’s smile is much less fleeting, this time, and he says, “anyways, speaking of clothes. you know a tailor, right? i need one for the ball.”

“well, tailor,” logan says with a shrug, beginning to peel his clementine. “it’s just virgil, but i could ask him. he’s doing a lot of dresses for sideshire high kids, is yours very complicated in terms of alterations?”

dee looks at him, before he says in a measured tone, “it fits perfectly fine, i just think the fabric at the shoulders needs reinforcing.”

logan blinks at him. “the shoulders?”

dee stares at him, for a few seconds, before he says in a purposefully casual tone, “yes, i had to look at a binder full of designs and i thought this one would be the best, what with the binder and all, but it turns out it needs a little bit of cover. some of the lace at the shoulder’s torn already, i need to make sure that’s hidden.”

logan promptly feels like an idiot—dee would need alterations to ensure that his secret’s kept, and if he’s wearing a binder and has a lacy shoulder, that would surely show—

“of course,” logan says. “i can ask him later. should i… tell him? about the… shoulder?”

dee chews at his lip for a moment.

“virgil’s my dad’s partner,” logan adds, as a means of explanation as to why he’s the tailor, but also to somehow pass along that virgil is supportive of trans people. “he’s been a bit puzzled by brick’s dress—brick’s nonbinary, they’re a year or so younger than us—but i think virgil’s managed to figure out how to customize the dress to best help brick feel comfortable. that was the biggest alteration, for a while, all the rest of the ones he’s doing are mostly hemming and the like. other than mine. mine used to be my dad’s, and he was quite a bit shorter than me at the time.”

dee chews at his lip a little harder.

“i’d tell only virgil,” logan says, and tacks on hastily, “about the, ah. torn lace at the shoulder. you don’t need to worry about that getting out to anyone else.”

“...i suppose you can,” dee says eventually. “as long as he’s discreet.”

“of course he is,” logan says. “you can let me know if you change your mind, though, i’ll probably tell him after dinner tonight. anyways. if we’re already talking about the debutante ball, shall we go over any of the more recent developments?”

dee nods, and the conversation turns to less fraught topics.

well. perhaps a little bit fraught, because if this blows up in their faces, logan still isn’t entirely sure of what repercussions could face him, but he’s sure there are repercussions.

poppy less casually enters dee and logan’s murmured conversation during lunch about the last touches before Get Cultured Day, and more quite literally shoulders her way in.

“so,” she barks, setting down her lunch tray with a clack, “what are the registration numbers looking like?”

logan looks at dee, and dee shrugs at him, tilting his head ever so slightly so his bowler hat covers his yellow eye, as if to say, you’re her partner, you’re less of a social threat than me, you handle it.

logan turns to poppy, and instead of saying any of that, asks, “aren’t you a freshman? why are you at sophomore lunch?”

she gives him a look, before she says, “so. numbers?”

“it looks like the final number of our participants is at forty-six,” logan says, “barring any last-minute entries, of course.”

poppy looks impressed for a moment, before she says, “i’ve gotten my tux, by the way. what’s your dress like?”

logan pulls up a photograph on his phone—the dress on the mannequin, not on himself—and tells her, “it’s still being altered, but it should be done by the end of the weekend.”

“you have your gloves, your fan, all of it?”

“yes. heels, too.”

poppy nods, and pulls out her planner, ticking talk to logan about dress off her list—logan spots bribery? and namedrop logan to dr. kramschissel and ask opinion on pitch as part of a sub-list underneath it—before she pulls out a manila folder and hands it to him.

“what’re these?” he says.

“design plans, new letterheads, and font families i think we should start using,” she says briskly. “oh, and a few new ways to update the website. that thing hasn’t been updated since before the dot com bubble burst, and we need to stay up-to-date on the latest design trends in the newspaper circle to be able to win a pacemaker, or at the very least continue the all-americans.”

(hey, a definition break from a former staffer here: all-american awards are distributed through the nspa, or the national scholastic press association, and the jea, or journalism education association. an all-american yearbook or newspaper is the highest rating given in critiques; it covers approximately the top five percent of high school and college publications in the entire country. the pacemaker is the highest award a high school publication can receive. these awards are basically high-school versions of pulitzers. and, uh, not to flex, but two-time all-american winner here!)

logan opens the folder, and his eyebrows arch at the infographic example greeting him. it looks incredibly professional, like an image in a magazine, with a color palette pleasing to the eye and simultaneously incredibly simple to read.

“so you’re a designer, then,” logan says; he’s dabbled in adobe photoshop and illustrator, and he knows better than most how long it takes to seem even slightly competent in illustrator, and by the looks of this, poppy is incredibly competent.

“artistic hobbies are proven to improve job performance, ease stress, and can improve memory and cognitive function,” poppy says matter-of-factly. “there’s no front-runner for design editor your senior year, which means there’ll be a gap, and if i prove early now that i know my stuff in design i can get an editor position my junior year. which means i put even more of an impressive resume forward to secure editor in chief my senior year. also, the style guide hasn’t been updated at this school in eight years. i want to write the newest edition.”

“...right,” logan says, and gestures vaguely with the manila folder. “have you shown these to mel?”

“obviously,” she says. “she said i had to wait until i got on staff, but my enthusiasm is apparently very encouraging. anyways, editor-in-chief gets a say in who the other editors are, so i figured i’d submit a portfolio early. also, there are pitches back there. you’ve already had three contribution bylines and i want your opinion on my chances of getting at least one this year.”

she takes the folder from him, flips past a couple pages, before she slides over another infographic, centered with empty boxes for photographs, placeholder text for an article. she’s designed an entire double truck layout. (double trucks are two facing pages in a newspaper; these are usually reserved for photo stories or large events. these are double trucks.)

DEBUTANTE HEADLINE HERE, it screams at the top of the page.

logan’s eyes flick across the table to dee, whose face is entirely blank, even though logan knows that an entire story about the debutante debacle would just draw more attention to what they threw the debutante event to cover.

“you’d have to be interviewed,” poppy says. logan cringes.

“i know, i know, you’re used to being the one who holds the pen,” poppy says. “but—”

“tell you what,” dee cuts in, voice smooth. “i know a way to pitch this to mel that benefits all of us, and won’t require poor logan to have to undergo the interview hell he’s used to submitting others to.”

“hey,” logan says mildly, without any heat.

poppy turns her attention to him, and dee digs out a pen, flipping it smoothly over his fingers.

“may i?” he says, gesturing to the mock-up.

poppy takes it from logan’s hands and passes it to him.

“right,” dee says, and draws a large circle around the infographic, jotting a p beside it, then circling one of the articles (headlined as DRESS SHOPPING PIECE?) and putting l beside it, along with the PARTICIPANT COLUMN, which also gets an l. DEBUTANTE STORY HEADLINE, he circles, and places a d beside it.

“there,” dee says matter-of-factly, capping the pen. “we all get actual bylines, not just contribution ones. logan can write a column and a dress piece, because he knows the person who’s altering sideshire dresses, and i can write the debutante piece, because i’ve been integral to the process, but i’m not as close with the organizers as logan is, which clears him of any bias. he’ll write the column about why the whole thing started. you can get credit for graphics and layout. we’d only need a staffer to take photographs.”

poppy’s eyes dart to him. “you’d think she’d take an entire double-truck by students who aren’t staffers yet?”

dee shrugs, spreading his gloved hands. “the worst she can do is say no. plus—” he slides the paper back, and takes a photograph of it with his phone, tapping a few buttons. “there. now we’ve got proof we came up with it first, and you and i can pitch a fit if they take the idea without involving us.”

“not me?” logan says.

“obviously not,” dee says, “you’re the favorite, which means you’ll be editor-in-chief once you keep that up, and i can benefit from nepotism.”

“i won’t be—”

“okay,” dee says with an eye-roll, “and who else are you going to trust to be your managing editor, louise? please.”

logan hesitates, because, well, he has a point. dee is by far the most capable person in their grade, aside from logan, of course. louise would be best qualified for entertainment editor, or perhaps photo, and then he shakes himself before he starts mentally assigning every proficient journalism student in their grade to editor positions.

“it wouldn’t be nepotism, you’d be qualified,” he says pointlessly.

dee tsks, patting logan’s hand. “of course not. mcmaster, buzz off for a moment, while i finish up this chat with logan, and then i’ll walk you to the journalism lab and help refine your pitch on the way, if you like.”

poppy’s eyes sharpen. “what, pitch it now?”

“no time like the present,” dee says. “and anyways, they’ll probably want a photographer there as we learn all the dances and curtsies this weekend, so—”

“right!” poppy says, “right. i’ll be right back” and she darts off, forgetting her folder, backpack, and lunch entirely.

logan watches her go, and says, resigned, “she really is going to be one of my editors, isn’t she.”

“editor in chief works closest with managing, copy, photo, and design, so she’ll practically be your right hand,” dee says gleefully.

“yours too, if you’re going to be my managing, so don’t look all smug because i will delegate if you make some kind of comment,” logan says, and dee grins at him—an actual, real grin, not a smirk or a smug little smile, a grin, like he’s happy.

and so of course logan has to ruin it by saying, “oh, i’ve been meaning to ask—would you like to come over and spend the night on Get Cultured day?”

the grin vanishes. dee actually looks somewhat alarmed. “what?”

“come over and spend the night,” logan repeats, trying his best to maintain a normal tone even though dee is looking at him as if he’s said come over and we’ll sacrifice you in an attempt to perfectly re-enact aztec ceremonies. “we could make sure everything’s done, then, and you could bring your dress so virgil could alter it and it could go home with in the morning, already done.”

he waits a beat, and when the alarmed look on dee’s face doesn’t abate, he adds, “it could be practice for a work night at the newspaper,” as if that is at all helpful.

“a sleepover?” dee says.

“well, yes,” logan says. 

dee continues to stare.

“you can just say no,” logan says, perhaps a bit snippy, because dee’s acting like logan’s invited him away to get murdered. he is trying to help.

“at your house?”

“yes, at my house,” logan says. 

poppy comes back; she’s managed to pull her hair back into a neat french braid that shows off the sharpness of her cheekbones, the intensity in her eyes. 

“all right, i’m ready for the pitch,” poppy says decisively. “i think we should open with pointing out how this feature wouldn’t exist without you two, but i’m the one who came up with the idea.”

dee ignores her. “are you sure?”

“yes.”

“just you and me,” dee checks, wary.

“well, and my dad, but that’s a given.”

dee absorbs this, still looking rather spooked, before he says decisively, “fine.”

“fine?” logan repeats, arching his eyebrows.

“i mean—yes,” dee says. “yes, i’ll come.”

“all right, then,” logan says. “we can text about details.”

dee clears his throat, and offers his arm for poppy, which she takes with a confused look on her face.

“poppy,” he says, as they’re exiting the cafeteria. “i don’t suppose you’ve been to any slumber parties lately, have you?”

“oh, my mom usually pays me to stay at parties until ten-thirty,” poppy says cheerfully. “she thinks socialization is important and i’m not enough of a people person, so she keeps sending me to parties, so she has to keep paying me, which means i can save up so i apply to the summer science program through mit this summer. mom wants me to stay and do some kind of internship at a beauty company, but how is that going to further my career in cancer research? once i get in she can’t just keep me from going, it’s mit.”

great. his first sleepover, ever, and his only options for in-person advice are the person who invited him to the sleepover and the girl who has her life planned out through her forties likely down to what she’ll eat for lunch every day.

“fantastic,” dee says through gritted teeth.

⁂

From: melissakramschissel@chilton.edu

To: logansanders@chilton.edu; dslange@chilton.edu; poppymcmaster@chilton.edu

CC: laurenpatrikis@chilton.edu

Subject: Debutante Spread

I’ll admit, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten quite so ambitious a pitch from three underclassmen, and never one spearheaded by a freshman. I absolutely love the idea, and if you stumble across a spare ticket for an adult to witness this socially conscious display, please feel free to let me know. I’ve CC’d Lauren Patrikis on this email—she’s a staffer on the Franklin who’s free on Saturday, and she’s very talented with a camera. Feel free to exchange numbers and text about other photography opportunities that you think would help benefit the spread.

Poppy: please put your infographics on a flash drive and drop it off in the lab so we have the highest resolution to upload. Thank you very much for coming up with this idea; I’m all the more excited to have you in class.

Dee: I think that about 1000 words should be the goal for the main piece, but we can discuss length when you come by. After school still works for you, correct?

Logan: Please confirm a time to come and see me so we can discuss the more specific story pitches for the two columns you’re doing.

I very much look forward to what you three get up to in your years in the Chilton journalism program. I have a feeling this is just the beginning of all the unique ideas you’ll have, and I eagerly await the opportunity to edit them.

Best,

Mel Kramschissel, PhD.

 From: logansanders@chilton.edu

To: laurenpatrikis@chilton.edu

CC: dslange@chilton.edu; poppymcmaster@chilton.edu

Subject: Directions for Lessons

Hello,

The directions to the dance studio we’re holding lessons in are attached. Please let me know if you have any further questions about navigating to Sideshire, or about the event in general. I can get you the phone numbers of the teachers, if you’d like them. Would you mind sending me your number, as well?

Regards,

Logan Sanders

 From: logansanders@chilton.edu

To: melissakramschissel@chilton.edu

Subject: Pitch meeting

Hello,

I’d be available during sophomore study hall, if that would work for you? If not, I can stop by after school with Dee.

Regards, 

Logan Sanders

 From: melissakramschissel@chilton.edu

To: logansanders@chilton.edu

Subject: Re: Pitch Meeting

Logan,

I’ve got a feeling that you’re the de facto leader of this little trio, even though the current spread is quite clearly Poppy’s brainchild, and I must say, this is very promising in regards to your future on the paper. I’m sure you’ll do exceptional work with this.

Sophomore study hall works great. You’ll be peeking in on the paper, but I have a feeling you won’t mind that at all. 

Best,

Mel Kramschissel, PhD.

(P.S.—Me pairing Lauren on this project is entirely out of selfish curiosity. Take from that what you will.)

⁂

patton is not sure if he has ever been more awkward eating a cherry danish in his whole life. he supposes that’s a pretty narrow gap to clear, but really, today has blown it out of the water.

most of the time whenever he’s around isadora, he feels like anything he does is dreadfully awkward, so it isn’t like this is news.

they’re together in isadora’s office, a small room just beside the studio; patton had offered to pick up supplies from remy’s café, so he’d brought her a tea and gotten a coffee for himself, and a little tray of assorted pastries. patton had grabbed the danish primarily because it was closest to him, and because isadora had already laid claim to a cruller that she’s been slowly picking at.

he winces a little as isadora takes a sip of her tea, pinky up, more preoccupied with the list in front of her. seriously. he went through years of etiquette training, he knows every fiddly little rule of silverware, he knows the various subconscious messages you can send while selecting a menu for the evening, and yet attempting to eat (or talk, or walk, or do most things) in the presence of isadora’s effortless, intimidating grace, it, well.

patton’s not the most refined person (anymore) but he knows he’s refined enough that he shouldn’t feel so buffoonish in isadora’s presence. he swallows his bite of danish, chasing it quickly with a sip of coffee.

“have you done the viennese waltz before?” he asks, just to break the silence.

“twice,” she says idly, turning the page. “well enough that i can remember the choreography and teach it to the children.”

“oh, good!” patton says. “good, good—um, not that you wouldn’t be able to pick it up really fast if you’d never done it before, since you’re obviously very good at dance being, um, being a dance teacher. and also a professional ballerina! even though i suppose ballerinas don’t really do waltzes, unless it’s, like, the waltz of the flowers or something, so i guess ballerinas do do waltzes! sometimes! what do i know, you know?” and immediately takes another sip of coffee because oh my god, patton, shut UP, he always gets like this whenever he and ms. prince have a one-on-one conversation, she’s so quiet and patton can’t help but word vomit because sometimes the silence gets agonizing.

isadora politely ignores him. patton takes another bite of his cherry danish and chews with fervor, because this way he won’t start blabbering about whatever comes to mind.

“all right,” isadora says at last, closing the handbook. “so, we’ll need to ensure that they know how to do the st. james bow, the viennese waltz, and the circle dance with the fans. that will all be my jurisdiction to lead, with you helping demonstrate, of course.”

“of course,” patton says, nodding like a bobblehead.

“—which means you shall take lead on the proper walk, proper dinner manners, and general courtesy, comportment, and etiquette.”

patton keeps nodding.

isadora takes another sip of tea and says, “so, we have approximately thirty-five kids coming, is that correct?”

“logan’s checking, but some of the chilton kids are being sent to other prep courses by their parents,” patton says, and frowns. “so—maybe a little less than that number, really. i can text him, if you want? i should text him—”

“that’s acceptable,” she says, waving him off. “he’ll be home from school soon enough, we can ask then.”

patton freezes, phone already in hand, before meekly puts it aside. 

“i think we should begin as one big group,” isadora says, “and demonstrate the bows and curtsies, then we can split off into groups to cover the fans and the walk…”

and so patton mostly just listens and takes notes—he does not want to forget any part of this process—on how isadora thinks the teaching should be done. honestly, it’s a miracle she agreed to do it when roman pitched it to her, because one, she’s a teacher and he has basically no experience in teaching teenagers other than his own very curious kid, two, the studio is basically the only space big enough to hold all of them at once, and three, isadora has come up with a way to do this in such an organized way that’s almost militaristic. he’s very grateful that she’s agreed to this, and he tells her so once she’s finished informing him of the general outline she’s come up with for Get Cultured Day.

she nods in acknowledgement and says, “well, roman’s quite excited about the whole ordeal.”

patton grins at her. “i heard about their date—sounds like his dress is a definite statement piece.”

isadora huffs softly, shaking her head; she hasn’t yet put her hair up in a severe bun for her afternoon lessons, like she almost always does, though she’s in a pair of stretchy leggings and a loose sweatshirt that tumbles down to her mid-thighs. her hair’s in a ponytail, with a few black strands framing her face. it’s one of the only times that patton’s seen her hair out of a bun, though he’s never seen it down. he’d had no idea that her hair was so long—he guesses that it might come down to her ribs, maybe even her waist.

“roman wants everything to be a statement,” she says. “he got his dramatics from his father.”

“ah, but he makes it work, doesn’t he?” patton says. “both did, from what i hear, if a bit differently.”

“more than a bit,” isadora says. 

“he wouldn’t be our roman without it, though, would he?” patton points out.

isadora’s lips twitch with what might be a smile.

“no,” isadora says. “no, he certainly wouldn’t.”

“wouldn’t have him any other way,” patton says. “love that kid, i’m thrilled to see what he’s gonna do—not just with the debutante ball, either.”

she’s certainly smiling now. “that’s the wonderful thing about children, isn’t it? watching them grow. like you’ve done with my boy, and i with yours.”

patton smiles, too, a little bittersweet. “gosh. we’re presenting them as adults to society. seems like yesterday roman was putting logan in a dress for a fashion show for the pair of us.”

“oh, yes,” she says, “and roman nearly dropped logan because he wanted to have a grand finale stunt he’d seen the older dancers do, i remember it well.”

patton snorts a little; after the initial rush of paternal panic when logan had clung to roman’s neck and it looked like they were both going down, it had been kind of funny to see logan, eyeshadow smeared over his eyes and lipstick messy on his mouth squawking in protest at roman even as roman had attempted to do the stunt again, even as isadora was telling him all about the importance of recovering from mistakes smoothly on stage. 

“they’ve come a long way from a fashion show for the pair of us.”

“that they have,” isadora agrees, and offers an expression to patton that is the softest he’s ever seen from her. “i’m very fond of your boy, as well.”

patton can’t help but smile—he always smiles when he hears about people loving logan, because it’s logan, his son, of course he’s happy about logan being well-loved.

“we did a good job with them,” patton says musingly. “the weird parenting pool we’ve made—you, me, virgil. we turned out two amazing boys.”

“that we did,” she agrees. “and it looks like they’ll stick with each other. it’s rare for a young love to last so long, i know, but—”

“but they’ve been stuck on each other since they were five,” patton says, with a nod of agreement, and holds his breath as he reaches over to gently squeeze isadora’s hand, moving slowly enough that she could move away if she wanted to. she does not swat him away, so, success! “should we do the stereotypical thing now and start planning their wedding? i think logan and roman would be lovely spring grooms, personally, but i’m not totally set on season yet.”

isadora’s letting out that soft huff once again when the studio door opens, and patton turns to see who it is.

roman, his red backpack slung over one shoulder, him bracing the strap with one hand to unceremoniously dump it on the nearest bench, and scrolling through his phone with the other.

“¡mamá!” he calls.“¿qué peluca crees que se vería—?”

he pauses in his tracks, blinking, before he grins sheepishly at patton.

“hi, pa—mr. sanders,” he corrects. patton can feel the force of the arched eyebrow that ms. prince was giving him to make him correct himself.

“hi, roman,” patton says; he doesn’t know much spanish, so he isn’t really sure what roman’s asking. “how was school?”

“oh! good, good,” roman says. “the cheer squad finally figured out what uniform we’re gonna wear at the next game, and also they finally decided who’s officially escorting who—sasha’s mine, i’ve got a list i was gonna send to logan—”

“do i know sasha?” isadora asks.

“nah, i don’t think she ever took classes here,” roman says. “she’s one of the kids who comes in from the farm towns nearby, y’know?”

isadora nods, noting this, and roman hesitates, looking between patton and isadora, before—

“do you think you can keep a surprise a secret?” roman asks patton.

patton considers this. “well, i can definitely try my best!”

“oh, good, i want opinions,” roman bursts out and rushes over, showing off two pictures on his phone.

patton blinks at them; they look like two people, from what he can tell, with big hair and a lot of makeup, maybe a bit familiar, and if he could get a closer look ohhhh he knows where he recognizes them now.

“so, looking at wig alone, which one?” roman asks, and patton glances at roman, before he looks back at the pictures, and back at roman.

“you’re doing drag?”

“uh-huh,” roman says brightly. “as soon as i got my dress, i realized, like, i have to go full camp with it, you know? it’s this massive eighties monstrosity, i adore it. it’s definitely something a drag queen would wear, and i’ve been looking at makeup tutorials, and—”

“—and i was a private instructor for a few queens back in the day, so i know enough of the process to help,” isadora says, as if this is an utterly casual thing to say and not the most wild job he could imagine for her.

“you did?!”

“mm,” isadora says, sparing him a slightly bemused look, as if his surprise is completely unnecessary.

“i know, i had the same reaction,” roman says to patton. “my mom, isa-diva prince! anyways. from someone who’s seen a lot of drag queens, and someone who has been to a debutante ball—?”

“oh, yeah, i’ve attended one,” patton says, “i just never actually, y’know, debuted. but, um, lemme see the options again—?”

patton, as one might guess, does not know anything about wigs. he doesn’t have to, either, because isadora tuts at roman for one of his options, which is apparently subpar, and her son is going to make his drag debut fabulous—

roman, grinning, sends the link to isadora so that she can order the wig for him, drops a kiss on her cheek then patton’s, and calls, “i’m gonna go change and warm up to get ready for the baby’s class soon! you gotta remember to put in calls to get me an actual fairy drag mother!” and darts up the stairs, the door closing behind him.

patton turns to her, smiling. “drag?”

“drag,” isadora agrees. “he’s been watching some shows for long enough, i’ve been expecting him to at least express a little interest in attempting it for himself. and now he is absolutely exhilarated by the concept of wearing drag to an event that is so traditionally heteronormative and surprising everyone. well, except for you, now, i suppose.”

“everyone?”

“everyone,” isadora confirms. “he hasn’t told logan, or virgil. he wants to see their reactions.”

patton laughs, a little bit. “that seems… very roman.”

isadora huffs softly and agrees, “remember what we said about dramatics?”

⁂

New Groupchat

Logan Sanders, Dee Slange, Poppy McMaster, 1 Unknown Number

Logan Sanders: I’ve taken the liberty of putting everyone involved in the debutante spread for the newspaper into one group text. This is Logan Sanders.

Unknown Number: Hi, Logan, I’m Lauren! We’ve got a friend in common, you’re in the GSA with my boyfriend Kai. 

Dee Slange: dee slange here

Poppy McMaster: I’m Poppy McMaster. 

Logan Sanders: I was wondering where I’d heard your name before. Yes, Kai’s talked about you.

Groupchat has been titled: Franklin Debutante Spread Team

Lauren Patrikis: Okay, so, I think I should get to the debutante lessons about fifteen or so minutes early, just to get my camera set up with the lighting and to get a general idea of the space. Do either of you have ideas on who you want to focus on in your pieces, so I have an idea of who to photograph?

Dee Slange: i’m going to interview ana and janey definitely, plus logan’s dad and the ballet teacher, but other than that, I haven’t settled on who I’m getting quotes from

Lauren Patrikis: Ana and Janey, got it. Logan?

Logan Sanders: One of my pieces is a column from me to explain where the idea came from, and the other one will be focused on dress shopping, but Kram said she got photos for that already.

Lauren Patrikis: Oh yeah lol I went with a few of the other Clairs to get their dresses, so I got that taken care of. Good thing they wanted me there for Instagram otherwise we’d be depending on student-submitted cellphone shots Lauren Patrikis: Not that those aren’t nice, but. You know. Gives off a certain vibe.

Dee Slange: yeah, really convenient for us that you’ve withdrawn your participation into the ball and turned it into something for our direct gain

Logan Sanders: You’re a Clair?

Dee Slange: don’t be obvious logan Dee Slange: ofc she’s a clair

Lauren Patrikis: Haha yeah I’m a Clair

Poppy McMaster: Really??? Poppy McMaster: Can I text you with a few questions about that Poppy McMaster: And about your plans on going into journalism after high school

Lauren Patrikis: Ofc! Love to help a fellow journalism gal, and that you’re an aspiring Clair makes it all the better, girls gotta stick together, right? Lauren Patrikis: no offense boys

Logan Sanders: None taken. We’re all feminists here.

Lauren Patrikis: Now, with all the planning out of the way, can I ask your guys’ specific interests when it comes to the paper? Lauren Patrikis: I’m planning on applying for an editor position next fall, and fingers crossed I get EIC, but I’d be happy with managing or copy, really, and it’d be cool to get an idea of some of the juniors I’d (hopefully!) be working with

Dee Slange is typing…

Logan Sanders is typing...

⁂

“logan?”

logan glances up from his plate, where he’s been spearing scalloped potatoes without really lifting them to his mouth. virgil and patton are giving him twin looks of what might be parental concern, and logan grimaces without really intending to.

they’re having dinner, all three of them, which logan has been carefully edging around calling family dinner in his head, because if he says it aloud, he’s pretty sure it’ll spook virgil or patton. it’s a good dinner, too; the butcher was having a sale, so virgil got three good cuts of steak and made scalloped potatoes and asparagus and herbed butter, with something brought under a round tin that is now in the fridge. patton’s eyes have been darting to it, then back to virgil, trying to evaluate what dessert fulfills virgil’s stringent ideals for nutrition. 

“sorry,” logan says, and eats the scalloped potato that he’s been butchering.

he is also slightly certain that this is their way of having a date night without leaving logan home alone on a week night. he is also edging carefully around that in his mind. he is very happy that they’re dating. it’s just that if he gives any thought to the implications for what they might do after their date it would be, as he would have declared ten years ago, icky. 

the trouble is, logan reflects, is that it’s much more nerve-wracking to come out on another person’s behalf than his own coming out process was. 

as he’s chewing, he reflects; it’s not like virgil is going to have a negative reaction, given that his boyfriend has been openly trans for sixteen years, and in regards to the dress tailoring, the worst virgil can do is say no.

“no need to be sorry, kiddo,” patton says. “busy thinking about that awesome double-pager—”

“—double truck,” logan corrects—

“—which, again, we're so thrilled for you, or is something on your mind?”

logan sighs to himself. there’s an opening if he’s ever heard one.

“dee still needs a tailor for his dress,” he says, and then he turns his attention to virgil. “i am wondering if you would be willing to offer your services.”

virgil’s face twists up.

“look,” virgil says, sets down his fork, and sighs. “i’m glad that you’ve got—i dunno, an understanding or whatever with this guy. you’ve got two more years at that school and i’m glad you’ve settled into things there. but—”

“but,” logan repeats quietly.

“—but,” virgil agrees, looks at patton, who has a polite listening expression on his face, and then virgil looks back at logan again, “look. you might have heard some things about my teenage days around town, and you’re almost an adult, so i don’t really hold any compunctions with telling you i was an asshole. a lot of teenagers are assholes, and some of them even manage to grow out of it. as a former teenager who was also an asshole, i can tell you that i got into some scrapes here and there. now, did i punch a few people on my own? ‘course i did. i was an asshole, i got into fights. but i can tell you that even in the depths of my stupid teenage actions, i never manipulated someone into punching someone else for me.”

logan absorbs this with a slight dip of his chin, a silent go on.

“these are just my two cents,” virgil adds, firmly, “you can do whatever you want, it’s your life, and you’re the one who’s at that school for hours and hours a day, you have a better idea of how to navigate things there than me. but. to add in my two cents, i don’t think the kind of guy who manipulates someone into doing physical harm on his behalf and has been openly very competitive with you to the point of doing something like that is a—a good buddy to hang around.”

he spreads his hands. “i could definitely be wrong. but—”

“but those are your two cents,” logan murmurs. “right.”

patton’s chewing at the inside of his cheek, now. “well,” patton offers timidly, and then snaps his mouth closed, clearly not wanting to spill the secret.

“i know you believe the best in people, patton, and that’s great,” virgil says, reaching over to squeeze patton’s hand. “i’m the jerk in this relationship, i’m aware of that, i can be an overprotective asshole, so i couldn’t sit by and just not say anything. you have the main call, obviously, logan’s your kid and this is your house.”

logan sighs a little, meeting patton’s eyes.

“he said i could tell him,” logan says, nodding his head in virgil’s direction. “he needs the tailor to be able to alter the dress without his parents’ interference. or so i gathered.”

patton sighs, too, except it’s more in relief, and he reaches over his other hand, to clasp virgil’s hand between both of his.

“dee’s…” patton says quietly, and then he straightens up a little. “he’s like me, honey.”

virgil’s brow furrows, ever so slightly. patton tilts his head. they’re looking each other in the eyes, a silent conversation, and patton arches his eyebrows at virgil, as if to punctuate whatever thought they’re nonverbally passing between them.

and then—

“oh,” virgil says blankly, and then he looks to logan. “he’s trans.”

it’s not a question, but logan nods anyways.

“he kind of accidentally mentioned it when he was over for the gsa posters, a month or so ago,” patton says, still quiet. “we promised we wouldn’t tell.”

“‘course not,” virgil says, still with that blank tone, reaching over to pat his hand. “you wouldn’t out someone, i wouldn’t want you to, not without their consent, but why—?”

“the dress,” logan says. “he needs someone to alter the dress to hide his binder. i don’t think he can go to any tailor his parents would bring up, they wouldn’t want him to wear one.”

virgil’s brow furrows. “why not?”

“his father never quite managed to grow out of it,” patton says primly, avoiding the swear. “apparently he found a wife who didn’t, either.”

and so the whole story behind why they’re really doing the debutante ball comes out slowly, as they’re finishing up their meal. virgil sits and listens, brow still furrowed, as logan explains how he’d come up with the idea, and patton provides a little further insight into dee’s background, and logan tells him as much as he can about dee’s house, without disclosing his grandmother’s illness, and by the time they both finish, a deep line’s marring virgil’s usually smooth, pale forehead.

“so,” virgil says slowly. “let me get this gay. you—” he points to logan, “came up with this whole idea to hide dee’s status, and you hid that behind the idea of doing this for feminism.”

“well, two things can be true,” logan points out, very reasonably, he thinks. “it started as just dee, sure, but i still despise the tradition of it and the sexist absurdity of it all should be pointed out.”

“and you,” he says, lightly bumping patton with his shoulder, “are hosting the Get Cultured day, plus a sleepover with the pair of them?”

“there’s—more,” logan says haltingly. “in dee’s life. i think dad could be a help with. i’m not at liberty to say.”

“christ, of course there is,” virgil mutters, rubbing at his forehead, as if he’s developing a headache. “right. i’m getting the chocolate-dipped strawberries—” patton brightens—“and the prosecco.”

“ooh, prosecco,” patton says. “fancy.”

“can i try?” logan asks, more out of curiosity than anything else.

virgil pops the cork, and then turns his eyes to patton, attentively waiting for an answer. patton considers this.

“pour him a little one,” patton says to virgil, who nods, and then proceeds to pour logan the tiniest flute of prosecco he can, before pouring more substantial servings for himself and patton. 

“this has fruity flavors of green apple, juicy peach and ripe lemon, framed by hints of minerality,” virgil reads aloud, before he sets down the bottle, passes over the glasses, and then fetches the tin.

logan takes a cautious sip. patton is watching him do so closely, his hands under his chin, pinning logan with a curious look.

“this tastes like none of those things,” logan informs him. it mostly tastes like fizz, and, if he holds it in his mouth long enough, eventually just bitter grape juice.

“yeah, the whole flavor profile things tend to be bullshit,” virgil says, setting the tin at the center of the table and uncovering it to show off a collection of chocolate-dipped strawberries, drizzled over with dark or white chocolate, sitting in cupcake wrappers, and patton oohs and aahs. 

“don’t say that around my family, or else you’ll be treated of stories of about thirty different wineries,” patton says dryly. “mom thinks she could have been a sommelier in another life.”

“don’t tell me you did the grape-crushing thing with your feet,” virgil says to patton, amused.

“i can neither confirm or deny,” patton says, taking his own sip of prosecco. “ooh, this is good!”

“thanks,” virgil says, then, to logan, “just as a pro-tip for when you’re twenty-one, go for the highest rated wine you can find at the lowest price.”

“highest rated, lowest price, understood,” logan says, and claims three strawberries for himself before his dad can take all the ones with white chocolate.

“and,” virgil adds, “if you find yourself around pretentious people—god knows you will, with your grandparents—just swirl it and sniff it and say oh, the bouquet is lovely, is this oak? or whatever.”

“oh, i can teach you the pretentious way you’re meant to drink wine!” patton says brightly, and so virgil and logan are treated to an informal lesson of how to best hold wine glasses (at the stem, so your fingers don’t transfer heat to the wine, which seems logical) and to swirl them (“you’re supposed to do this with wider glasses and wines that aren’t bubbly mostly, but it helps oxygenate the wine so you can smell it better,” patton says wisely) and how to aerate it while you’re drinking (“you’re kidding,” logan says, but obligingly attempts to suck in air and not dribble prosecco from his mouth simultaneously) and the three of them try their very best to drink their wine in as ostentatious a fashion as possible.

once logan’s had his fill of strawberries, and finished his tiny helping of prosecco, he helps wash the dishes and graciously bows out of the kitchen as subtly as he can. virgil and patton pour themselves thirds, kissing as they clink glasses when they think logan’s out of sight.

logan thinks he’s managed to be a fairly good third wheel to this date.

⁂

“well, i’ve got mine hanging in the closet,” patton says. “have you gotten yours yet?”

virgil groans; he’s feeling much too pleasant to think about such things. 

patton’s sitting almost in his lap; his thighs are slung over virgil’s, at any rate, and virgil’s got his free hand resting on patton’s thigh, absently kneading at the muscle, savoring the warmth and weight of him. patton’s got his free hand playing with virgil’s hair; they’re both finishing off the last of the prosecco and talking about the debutante ball.

virgil knocks the last of his back, and sets the flute aside.

“i’ll get mine while you and the kids are off for Get Cultured day,” virgil grumbles. “a tux. ugh. no one more than the people who’re absolutely necessary will see me in that.”

patton smiles at him, fondness making his eyes go softer and sweeter than usual; his cheeks are pink, probably from the prosecco. 

“you’re forgetting that we’re all gonna see you wear it at the ball,” patton points out, voice sugary, and virgil groans, tilting his head back, and therefore into patton’s hand; patton bears the weight of it gently, his hand bracing his skull, giggling even as he does.

“and don’t forget your white gloves,” patton points out, and virgil groans louder.

“oh, stop,” patton says, but any scolding attempt is ruined by how tender he sounds, the way he carefully tilts virgil’s head so he’s looking at him; virgil’s eyes trace along his cupid’s bow lips, lush and wet from the prosecco, the curve of his jaw, his eyes, a loving expression in them that makes virgil’s chest ache with devotion, his cheeks, going pinker the longer virgil looks. his eyelashes brush against his cheeks when he looks down for a moment, unable to hold eye contact.

patton seems to rally, shaking himself a little, before he says with great dignity, “you know looking at me like that makes me go to bits.”

virgil tries for a smirk, but it probably comes out soppy and moonstruck. “do i?”

“you know very well,” patton huffs, before he sits up a little and says, “and. you’re all deeply touched that roman asked you, i know you are.”

virgil’s the one to break eye contact, now, looking down at patton’s legs in his lap and mumbling excuses that sound weak even to himself. honestly, it’s a bit of a miracle he manages to get it out around the lump in his throat.

“i was talking to isadora, about our weird little circle of parenting,” patton continues, his tone victorious. “you, me, her. the boys. our boys.”

virgil squeezes patton’s thigh again, just listening.

“logan and roman are credits to you,” patton says. “not just us.”

virgil squirms a little. sentimentality is still not his strong suit. “you—and ms. prince—are the ones who raised them, took care of them day and night. i helped out where i could. and,” he kisses patton’s cheek, “you’re the ones who let me into your lives, so. they’re still majorly credits to you.”

“mm,” patton says, and looks at him with half-lidded, slightly mischievous eyes. “we’ll call it even, how about that?”

virgil snorts again and says, “if you think i’m about to claim credit for an isadora prince production, i hope you’ll plan out my funeral.”

patton swats his shoulder, but conversation veers away from virgil’s role in the kids’ lives.

good. if they go too much into parental feelings after virgil’s had three glasses of prosecco, he’s pretty sure he’ll get all annoyingly teary, and he’s pretty sure patton would think it cute and sweet, but he doesn’t exactly plan on getting all annoyingly teary to conclude this date.

⁂

the excuse that he’s told logan is that dee is coming early to survey the studio and help set things up.

the fact of it all is that he could probably drive his range rover in fifty laps around this town and he could probably still find something new to surprise him, like some kind of small-town culture shock.

for example—his range rover sticks out like a sore thumb. he has already spotted five people gawking at it as he drives around. two people even elbowed their walking companion and pointed. 

they’re in for an influx of bmws and mercedes’ bought with daddy’s money—dee supposes it must be a car enthusiast’s idea of christmas to be able to see all the chilton students’ cars unexpectedly flood this tiny town, whose ideas of automobile finery are probably topping out at a prius.

he spies the punnily-named cat-themed store that he’d been so boggled by the last time he was here, and the community garden, and the town is just as kitschy as it was at night, except now he can see better in the light of day, instead of the light of fairy lights and wrought-iron street lamps. 

now, he can see a local newsstand. he didn’t even know those still existed. on the same level of outdated absurdity, there is something called a mailboxes etc., which he can only hope is this town’s excuse for a post office. there is also a shoe repair store, because apparently these people are right out of the victorian era and have employed cobblers in this town.

there is a store called harry’s house of twinkle lights, which only sells twinkle lights, how on earth is that a sustainable business model? 

incongruously, there is a tattoo shop right beside the famed virgil’s diner he’s heard logan talk about so much. he spends a lot of time parked in the street, staring at that. a tattoo parlor. well, at least something in this town has evolved past the ideals of a fifties housewife.

(there is a black lives matter sign in a place of pride in the window, along with a rainbow flag. there are a lot of pride flags waving brightly in the bleak wind, of all stripes and colors. there are black lives matter signs staked in a lot of front yards, actually.)

(in his neighborhood, there are no black lives matter signs staked on the professionally manicured lawns. he isn’t even allowed to have one in his room. he’s tried. his parents threw it out.)

dee checks the time, clears his throat forcefully, and moves to park as close to the dance studio as he can.

he’d seen it before; he’d watched as logan got all moony-eyed and reverent at his boyfriend dancing in the window, without the boyfriend’s awareness. it isn’t particularly difficult to find—it’s in what passes as the town square, which he supposes makes it as a technicality of being the shape of a square.

it’s also easy to spot because logan is out front, along with another boy their age; he recognizes him from logan’s birthday party last fall.

he hops out of the car, locking it as he does so (the town may look like it’s a fifties housewife’s dream, but he doesn’t know the crime rates of this town off the top of his head, and his sleepover bag is right in the back, looking prime for someone to steal, but the most they’d get is a decent bag, some clothes and toiletries, and his phone charger, so there.) logan glances at him, holding up one half of the sign; the boy (roman, dee remembers) glowers at him behind logan’s back, and dee tries his very hardest not to grin. thank goodness, something fun today.

“i didn’t know you had your license,” logan comments. he’s in jeans, but otherwise he still looks like an accountant (an actual accountant, not the wink-wink nudge-nudge joking kind that’s been popularized over that one song that says the accountant is a cover for really being a sex worker)—he’s wearing a collared shirt and tie, and a jacket on top of that.

“turned sixteen in february,” dee says.

“well,” logan says. “happy belated birthday, i suppose. roman, would you pass me the tape—?”

even dee has to admit roman is very well-dressed. he is wearing a black overcoat that is so nice that dee would not be embarrassed to wear it over a collared shirt, a red-and-black plaid sweater, and a pair of black, pleated, high-waisted pants and a pair of black booties. it’s like he’s stepped off someone’s painstakingly curated ✨ winter fashion ✨ pinterest board.

roman, however, is still glowering at dee even as he ensures his half of the sign will hold and passes logan the tape.

dee tucks his hands into his pockets. the wind is sweeping in their direction, which means his cape is flowing dramatically in the wind. it’s like he choreographed it. he hopes he looks like a norse god sweeping down to enact destruction.

“roman prince, i remember,” dee says smoothly. “we had a conversation at logan’s birthday party. nice to see you again.”

roman’s scowl deepens. “i can’t say that’s mutual, villain,” he declares, and takes a moment to ensure logan’s got a grasp on the sign (he does, he’s taping the last corner to the window) sweeps dramatically off into the studio with his nose in the air. dee can’t help but laugh.

logan simply looks chagrined.

“villain,” dee repeats, delighted. 

logan rolls his eyes at dee and says, “my dad is just about the only one who’s forgiven the louise incident from you, so. be cautious.”

“when you say the only one,” dee begins.

“virgil and roman are the primary grudge-holders in the family,” logan says absently, too busy smearing a hand over the corner to ensure it’ll stick to the window to catch dee blinking at him, caught off-guard—family?—before logan continues, “and i suppose ms. prince, but ms. prince terrifies most she interacts with anyways, so the fact that she’ll hold a grudge should be indecipherable to those who are not practiced in conversing with her.”

“terrifying?” he asks.

logan looks away from the window at last, the corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. if dee didn’t know any better, he’d think that logan was being mischievous.

“oh, yes,” he says. “i’m uncertain if you’ll fear her or love her. perhaps both in equal measure.”

forget the tattoo parlor, this ms. prince woman is by far the most fascinating thing about this stupidly charming town.

dee looks at the sign. DEBUTANTE BALL TRAINING HERE, in logan’s neat hand, and then underneath it in a scrawling, well-practiced calligrapher’s cursive, GET CULTURED DAY! and a variety of other doodles around it. there are sparkles. he briefly entertains the mental image that logan is actually a sparkle enthusiast behind closed doors, but also, dee has seen his boyfriend, so. he’s got a feeling on who insists on sparkles in that relationship.

“well,” dee says, and nods to the door. “shall we?”

logan opens the door as an answer.

dee steps through, pausing just for a moment to sweep his eyes over the dance studio.

there are what look like old church pews in the hall, which leads back to what looks like a small room and a set of stairs; it is, he knows just by looking, renovated from an old building in town—a barn, maybe, or an old house, but one can hardly tell once they’re inside it.

he steps into the actual studio. the studio itself has two walls lined with mirrors, one with the windows facing out into the street, and a few windows facing out into the hallway. there are three round tables shoved to one half of the room; patton sanders, in one of his sweaters (a muted shade of plum, today) and jeans; a short, brown-skinned woman with her black hair swept back into an impressively tight bun.

they both glance over at the sound of someone entering; patton brightens, the woman frowns.

“dee!” patton says. “happy you made it, kiddo, c’mon in!”

the woman must be ms. prince.

ah. roman prince. this is roman’s mother.

“this is isadora prince, but she’s ms. prince to you,” patton prattles on cheerfully, seemingly ignoring the fact that the woman is sizing him up—predator knows predator, dee supposes, so he does not feel any compunctions about doing the same. 

“she’ll be teaching all the dance stuff, the movement things,” patton says, “and i’ve got how to behave yourselves in a fancy-schmancy setting like this. plus, like, the proper walk. now, it’s been a few years since i’ve taken lessons, so i might be a bit rusty, but—”

dee stops paying attention, then, too busy tilting his head ever so slightly to survey ms. prince. she looks almost clinically disinterested, except for a unyielding, rigid look in her eyes that simply gives away impressions of stubbornness, but nothing of observational value. dee could have guessed she’s stubborn, she’s a single mother, as far as he knows, and a ballet teacher. aspects of both of those things require a certain amount of tenacity.

the closest thing dee can amount her expression to is a no-nonsense substitute teacher waiting for class to calm down, with the eerie sense of preternatural calm that the entire class will be in trouble far beyond their wildest dreams. 

it absolutely does nothing to him. he does not react at all. if, perhaps, there is a chill sent down his spine, it is obviously because the heating system in here is inadequate and the old, shoddy architecture is clearly allowing a draft.

“...think it should be okay!” patton finishes, smiling still, completely unaware of what has come to pass. “‘course, i haven’t been around teenagers in a while that aren’t you, logan, and roman, but i manage the part-timer kids at the inn okay, so fingers crossed it’s the same for the chilton kids.”

ms. prince looks away from him. he does not feel anything that could possibly be likened to someone removing the last piece of rubble that was pinning someone down, and at last they could scramble away.

“you shall manage just fine,” isadora says. it sounds less like a comforting statement and more like the prediction of a military officer before a battle.

patton nods, seemingly bolstered by this. dee does not even try to imagine what would have happened if he wasn’t.

“can we practice?” roman says, doing his very best to pretend that dee isn���t there; dee rolls his eyes, even as patton exclaims “‘course we can!” and logan leans in to murmur, “roman usually assists his mother with dance classes, he’ll do the same for the dances we’ll need to learn.”

isadora moves to turn on music, and patton and roman turn to face each other. patton smiles at him encouragingly, and, as if unable to help it, roman smiles back as the music comes in, with an old-timey blare of horns.

“may i have this dance?” patton offers gallantly.

roman tee-hees and takes on a nasally tone reminiscent of most rich brats as portrayed on television, “i dunno, do you have a trust fund?” before he turns and declares, in a passable teacher’s tone, “always make sure, ladies, we’re mocking the original purpose of the ball! gold-dig away!”

it makes patton laugh and logan smile, but roman takes patton’s hand without waiting for his answer. 

patton promptly assumes form—dee isn’t sure why he’s surprised it’s picture-perfect, but he is anyways—and roman does too, their hands clasped together, roman’s opposite hand on patton’s arm and patton’s hand resting on roman’s shoulder blade. 

patton counts aloud as they sweep across the room, “one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three,” for his own benefit or for roman’s, he isn’t sure. 

if not for that, if not for the surroundings of this dance studio, if not for their relatively casual state of dress, if not for the frank sinatra in the background, dee could easily believe that they were leading the opening dance of the actual debutante ball. 

if roman were in his debutante gown, if patton were in his tuxedo, if the studio surrounding them was replaced by a beautiful, marble ballroom, then they would have been the jealousies of everyone at the ball.

roman, dee observes, is good. patton dances with the practiced air of someone who learned how to do this years ago, and roman’s ability to keep pace is so well-matched that dee passively wonders if they make a habit of dancing together; if perhaps they share a common hobby of attending sock-hops.

he recalls the dance-a-thon poster he’d seen while he was in town. he really cannot discount this theory.

“dee?”

dee looks away from the pair of them twirling around the room, roman’s coat flaring with them the way his skirt eventually will.

logan gestures to the table, and holds up a handful each of forks and knives. “would you help me with these?”

you expect me to do what, he nearly says, before he recalls his excuse to get here early was to help set up, and so he heads over to the table, logan handing him the forks and knives, dee setting the table as if for a proper three-course dinner. 

he watches patton laugh as he dips roman, roman laughing too, their faces lighting up with it; he glances over out of the corner of his eyes, and he sees logan’s eyes gone soft, the way that dee has only ever seen him do once, that night of the poster-making when he had watched roman without being aware. he’s stopped unfolding the cloth napkins to stare at roman, that look on his face, the corners of his mouth lifted up; he has the fond expression of someone wed to their husband for fifteen years, watching them do the thing they love, not watching boyfriend of less than three months. 

huh. logan sanders is a sap. he honestly wouldn’t have guessed it.

he mentally analyzes his memories of seeing logan and roman together; at the chilton dance, logan watching him through the window, and now. all three times, logan had looked at roman like he'd hung the moon and stars.

it bears further observation, for certain.

dee clears his throat loudly, just for the pleasure of seeing logan jump, come back into himself, and hastily resume placing napkins.

dee smirks to himself as he straightens the dessert spoon.

all right. that is also his major motivation to continue the observation—the fun of watching logan get flustered. 

⁂

so maybe patton hasn’t thought about the way that a lot of teenagers are until virgil brought it up over dinner, but honestly, patton doesn’t think it’s his fault he overlooked that.

his track record with teenagers isn’t exactly a stellar one: when he was one, he was something of a wild child, and the other teenagers only ever really liked him at parties, and their opinion declined even more once he came out, and then that opinion crashed straight through rock bottom to start digging for the center of the earth when he got pregnant. 

then he dropped out of school, and moved here, and he didn’t really have much interaction with other teenagers in sideshire, except for the occasional part-timer at the inn, who mostly treated him cordially, if a bit awkwardly. 

then he kept working with those teenage part-timers, who were technically coworkers, and most of them carried that same generally friendly attitude throughout the years; then his boys turned thirteen, but he’d been so used to the pair of them, the only turmoil they’d had to deal with were occasional emotional outbursts and boy drama. 

and now, well. dee, too, he supposes. he isn’t sure how much dee qualifies as a typical teenager, though, what with him dressing like a victorian gentleman on an off day and his apparent secret that logan’s hinted at but not said.

and now an incoming horde of chilton students. the last generation of chilton students he’d dealt with while he was at chilton, and he’s pretty sure those opinions are still slow-cooking in the lava in the core of the earth. he isn’t sure how a new generation of chilton students is going to be. for one, they’re chilton students. for another, they’re teenagers. 

so patton is maybe a little nervous about today!

the boys are milling about the room, checking on everything. roman seems to have settled on the strategy of ignoring dee, which seems to suit dee just fine, even amuse him, a little bit. logan goes back and forth between helping the pair of them—dee with the tables, roman with nametags—and isadora is scrolling through her phone, checking to make sure she has waltz-appropriate music queued up, and patton…

well. patton is nervously pacing around the room, trying to see if he can poke in somewhere in help, but apparently they’ve all got it covered, so. patton’s job is apparently pacing.

unsurprisingly, the sideshire kids filter in first; brick comes bearing what they say is a gift from virgil, handing patton a tray full of heat-preserving cups for the four of them, and patton eagerly removes the top to sniff it only to pout that it’s decaf before he passes out the other three drinks to isadora, roman, and logan.

“hi,” brick says to dee.

“hello,” dee says warily, hovering near the corner of the room.

“wicked cool cape,” brick says. “you’ve got the phantom of the opera thing going on, then?”

dee lifts his eyebrows, looks as if he is about to do something that will be great fun, and says in a tone that is mildly threatening, “was that a joke about my vitiligo?”

“okay!” patton breaks in, as brick starts to look like they’re about to fall all over themselves in apology, “brick, kiddo, this is dee, he goes to logan’s school. how about you go on over with roman and get your nametag, huh?”

brick scampers off with a squeaky “sorry!” and patton turns to dee.

“be nice,” he says, in the same tone he’d use when logan was in kindergarten and demanding to know how on earth the other kids were unaware of what he’d thought to be universal common knowledge, like the heat death of the universe. 

“it’s too easy,” dee complains, gesturing to his face. 

“be,” patton repeats pointedly, “polite. i know that wasn’t the best thing for them to say, it was not a very good comparison, but they were talking about your clothes, not your face.”

with a facial expression much the same as six-year-old logan grumbling about how it isn’t his fault the universe might one day reach thermodynamic equilibrium, dee sighs before he goes over to pick up a nametag off the table.

“don’t worry, brick,” roman says, giving dee a dirty look, “that villain is vile to everyone he meets. it’s such a disaster that’s probably where he got his name. dee-saster.”

patton looks between them. brick, looking very much like they would like to duck out of this conversation now please; roman, victorious in his nicknamery even though patton can admit quietly to himself that it’s not exactly roman’s best work; and dee, who looks entirely unaffected. 

and then he smiles. a placid, calm smile. he looks rather mild-mannered, actually. the room is quiet.

“you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid,” dee returns, and roman looks terribly offended, his hand flying to his chest.

“exCUSE you,” roman says very loudly, “i am very happily and VERY CONTENTEDLY in LOVE with the HANDSOME man whose face you chose to MAR through—through your machiavellian manipulations and jealousy of logan’s many talents like you’re the stepmother in snow white! how dare you! i—ew!” he says, sounding like that one character in the canadian sitcom he’s trying to make logan watch. he’s clearly about to continue, but patton takes that as his cue to cut in.

“boys,” patton says loudly. he waits for them both to be quiet before he continues.

“be polite,” he repeats sternly, putting his hands on his hips. “be nice. we are here today to learn about absurd, sexist traditions that we all plan on going in and upheaving, and any good heist team needs to get along! am i clear?”

roman sighs but grumbles out an affirmative; dee rolls his eyes but does the same.

“good,” patton says, and points. “dee, please go help logan. roman—stay here.”

the boys, at last, split up.

“sorry,” brick repeats to dee.

dee shrugs. “i’ve heard it before.”

“still,” brick says, “i’m really sorry. patton’s right. that was a bad comparison to make, i should’ve said mr. darcy or something,” and then brick proceeds to stand as close to isadora’s general vicinity as they dare, as if her mere presence will protect them from any other catastrophes.

it probably will, honestly.

any awkwardness in the air doesn’t linger very long, though, because some other sideshire kids come in; elliott, for one, so they can go stand with brick, along with a few members of the cheerleading squad, which means that roman is distracted. there’s a girl with a camera he doesn’t recognize, but patton’s guessing she’s probably with the franklin, because she splits straight off to talk to logan and dee, stopping briefly to introduce herself to him and isadora, before she takes up residency in a corner and starts adjusting her camera’s settings.

dee and logan stand in the back, heads tilted toward each other, speaking quietly; he catches something about how brick’s in the theater program at school with roman before patton turns his attention to asking isadora a question about waltzing. at one point, brick accidentally catches dee’s eyes, and rather than scowl at them or anything, dee, instead, nods, as if in acceptance. brick’s shoulders relax, they nod back, and they turn to resume talking to elliott.

huh. that’s something.

he doesn’t really have time to think on it, though, because then the first wave of chilton kids start arriving.

the difference between the sideshire kids and the chilton kids is immediately stark, even though it’s not anything as visible as the quality of their clothes, or the way they look, or like all the chilton kids are wearing their blue-and-navy and the sideshire kids are wearing their red-and-white. 

it’s in the way they’re acting. 

the chilton kids are all in clumps of each other, and patton’s sure that logan and dee could tell him the precise clique each of them are in; a group of girls whisper behind hands and giggle together, and the sideshire cheerleaders look immediately ticked off at the sound of it. a group of chilton boys bump up against each other and ruffle hair in typical teenage rough-housing fashion, scoffing at their surroundings together, and the sideshire boys—if patton’s looking at them right, he thinks that group’s mostly the hockey team—look like they’re ready to go over and join in with the rough-housing with a much less friendly intention.

so. patton might have his work cut out for him. he'd say the same for isadora, but he holds no illusions about the fact that isadora will be able to rule her half of teenagers with a firm hand.

once the time ticks to the new hour, patton looks at isadora, who simply nods at him.

right. patton’s doing this on his own, then.

he steps forward into the front of the room, clapping a few times to get everyone’s attention; their conversations die down, and all of their eyes turn on him.

all of their eyes. they’re all watching him. waiting for what he’s going to say. a group of teenagers. yay. so fun.

why is patton’s mouth suddenly so dry.

patton wipes his suddenly sweaty hands on his pants, trying to pass it off like he’s putting his hands in his pockets.

“hi!” he says, in a bright and cheerful tone that sounds fake to his own ears. “i’m patton sanders, some of you might know me as the manager of the independence inn here and town, others might just know me as logan’s dad.”

logan hunches his shoulders slightly when some chilton kids look back at him, looking so much like virgil for a second that patton’s heart pulses a little stronger than usual.

“—and this is ms. prince,” patton continues, gesturing to isadora, “she owns the ballet studio here in town and has been very gracious to let us use this space and to join in on teaching you kids how to waltz properly. she’s a professional ballerina, so this is a really unique opportunity for everyone!”

isadora crosses her arms over her chest. the kids do not look particularly enthused about this really unique opportunity.

“okay,” patton says. “um—if you haven’t already, go ahead and grab your nametags over there at that table, that’s roman, he’s gonna help us out with the waltzing today. we’re splitting you up into two groups, we’ve already assigned—”

some of the kids groan.

“—you’re probably still going to be with some of your friends!” patton continues. “um, it’s just the two groups, one of them will learn dancing first and the other one will get a review of the proper etiquette to have at these sorts of events, and then we’ll switch, and then we can convene back together as one big group to answer any questions you might have, or practice the dance all together, does that sound good?”

there’s a chorus of teenagers grumbling in agreement.

“okay!” patton says, putting a lot of effort into maintaining his bright tone. “if you’ll take a look at your name tag, red dots are with ms. prince first, blue dots are with me, all right?”

there isn’t even a chorus of teenagers grumbling in agreement this time.

“um,” patton says, then, because it seems like the thing to do, “any questions?”

it is a terrible mistake.

“didn’t you get pregnant when you were sixteen?” one of the chilton girls with a very familiar pair of eyes and a strikingly similar chin (god, if this kid is somehow related to shauna christy, and she probably is, patton’s going to have a terrible time trying to teach her anything) and patton clears his throat.

“i, um—yep. yep, i did—”

“wait, you got pregnant?” another chilton student says.

“i’m trans,” patton says, really hoping this isn’t going where it’s about to go, “so, any questions about the ball—”

the first girl, the one who might be related to shauna christy, makes a loud noise as if she is about to ask another question, but there is something louder that even makes patton jump a little.

the entire room swivels to look at what has caused the noise, only to see dee with his hands hovering casually in the air, as if he’s still holding the massive block that isadora uses as a standing prop.

“christy,” dee says, still with that same calm voice (aha! a tiny voice in patton’s head says, i was right, she IS related to shauna!) “if you continue this line of questioning, everyone in this room will know precisely why the words ‘snyder’s hanover’ are significant to you.” 

christy goes incredibly pale, and she squeaks out, “how the hell could you know about—?”

“well, i didn’t,” dee says, looking remarkably pleased with himself. “not for sure, anyways, but now i do.”

the chilton students turn curious eyes to christy, who goes beet red.

dee surveys them all with the same air patton's mother gets whenever she’s observing the way a new maid cleans to see if it’s to her satisfaction. 

“i know at least five significant things about every chilton student in this room,” he continues imperiously. “if you all don’t shut up and let us get this over with so i can get a unique college essay and not just a story about how i was adopted at a young age that thousands of other students will surely have, i will sow social chaos unlike anything this school has ever seen. those of you who will recall the nettie eckstrand incident will know that is not an idle threat.”

a tall, blond boy snorts and says, “what are you gonna do about it? swim back home to haiti?”

“hey,” patton says sternly, but before he can really lecture this boy, dee holds up a gloved hand.

dee looks at the boy, sweeping his eyes up and down him. the entire room is silent; though the chilton kids are clearly waiting with bated breath, even the sideshire kids seem like they’re interested, a fresh batch of drama and gossip that doesn’t affect their school at all. the boy is all smirking, postured swagger, every inch the stereotypical young, rich white boy who’d known no consequences.

then dee looks him dead in the eyes and says, “pj harvey.”

okay, look, patton doesn’t know why a musical artist who was very popular in the nineties has to do with anything, but before he can say anything the boy surges forward, as if to fight him—

“HEY, HEY!” patton yells— 

—and he’s stopped in his tracks by two of his friends who step in to hold him back, and he huffs, straightening his jacket with a bit more fervor than necessary. he stalks off, which doesn’t have quite the effect it would’ve if he’d stormed out of the room.

dee hadn’t even flinched.

patton looks to isadora for help—he can’t imagine she’s often had brawling ballerinas in her classroom, though—but before either of them say anything, a tiny, dirty-blonde girl bursts out from the corner.

“now that the male posturing is done,” she declares impatiently, “can we get to the part where we subvert patriarchal expectations, please? we all have homework to do after this and some of you really need to at least try to make it seem like school is for more than making out with each other and killing your brain cells with alcohol.”

“okay!” patton blurts out, before anyone else can try to start a fight with her, “blue dots over here, please, blue over here!”

the girl comes over to his side of the room first, as does dee.

great.

patton spies her nametag, too; POPPY MCMASTER.

ah. she’s the escort to logan’s debutante. 

even better.

as logan’s crossing the room to join with the red dots, patton bends his head close to his ear and murmurs, “goodness, aren't your chilton friends…" he wracks his brain for a good word, "so enthusiastic?”

logan scowls, and returns in an equally quiet voice, “first of all, that is not exclusively a chilton thing, you have known roman for over a decade, and secondly, poppy isn't quite a friend, she has more attached herself to me in the hopes that i will be a mentor to her and give her an editor position her junior year.”

patton opens and closes his mouth a few times, before he says, "excellent," what on earth is in the water at that school, before he pushes logan gently in ms. prince’s direction and turns his attention to the group of teenagers.

they are not any less intimidating when halved.

“right,” patton says brightly. “let’s get this Get Cultured day started!”

[secret-engima]

Here's something that might come outta left field, what fics do you recommend in the FFXV fandom?

Oooooo okay hmmm. Lemme see what I have. I warn you now that most of these are either short, time-travel, or Prompto angst, but I’ll try to add a little summary to each so you can pick what interests you:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27588704 “Toward Daylight We Run” by SparkleMoose (here on Tumblr as @sparklecryptid) is a time-travel fixit involving Titus, who wakes up post being killed by Nyx with a case of confusion, anger, and le self-doubt, and a Glaive OC who died during the betrayal and who is very understandably angry at them. It’s gonna be a former-enemies-to-lovers thing eventually I think, and tho there’s only two chaps so far I recommend it (I recommend several of Moose’s actually, just watch the tags if you’re not into M-rated or have trigger warnings to look out for) This one does have trigger warning tags for suicidal thoughts and PTSD, so watch out for that.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27912505/chapters/68351254 “From Neath Dark Waters”, another one by SparkleMoose! This one is an FFXIV Warrior of Light reborn as a street rat in Insomnia and adopted by Clarus, again, just getting started, but very feelsy and I love it. Moose also has cool Galahdian worldbuilding stuff which is always fun.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23888788 “the Wound (A Place Where Light Enters)” Third one by SparkleMoose, featuring time-traveling Noctis and also a sort of time-traveling Warrior of Light named Azura who looks around, spots Noctis fighting someone and goes “welp time to go break someone’s face on behalf of a friend I guess” which is a great first impulse for a White Mage imho. These two are gonna be a ship and I love it. 

(honestly just go poke through SparkleMoose’s stuff on Ao3 and here on Tumblr, there’s quite a few FFXV fics and there’s bound to be at least a few you like. :D Just remember to read the tags first)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26644129 “The Great Livestream Debacle” by Choke-a-bro. This is just humor/crack oneshot but it makes me laugh on days that need a pick me up. Basically, Noctis runs a tiny twitch channel playing really old RPGs without telling Ignis or Regis and ONE DAY a stray new viewer happens to realize, “huh, this guy looks like the prince” and it spiral wonderfully from there.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27468421 “A Present for a Father” by illusorygardens. This is actually a little gift oneshot thing inspired by one of my AUs here on Tumblr (Clouds and Moonlit Skies) where a bunch of FFVII characters are reborn as various OCs and canon characters in FFXV. Zack is Noctis, Cloud is Prompto, Aerith is Luna, Titus is Sephiroth, and Rufus and Yuffie are reborn as Imperial Royal Twins with the world’s most terrible dad aka Emperor Aldercapt. So naturally Noctis has to prank the Emperor of Niflheim on their behalf.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26667253/chapters/65038747 “Light in the Night Sky” by mokulule. If you’ve read my Deleantur and liked it, then absolutely 1000% give this a try. It’s inspired by Deleantur verse in the sense of “Noctis goes back to the time of Somnus and Ardyn” but it’s cheerfully wandering off in a very different direction and there is WORLDBUILDING and BACKSTORY and Ardyn and Aera being ADORABLE. Seriously it’s great. Again, it’s only got a few chaps on it, but I love it already and highly recommend.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27611195/chapters/67550303 “Holding Secrets Like a Crystal” by LadyHallen. An AU where Monica Elshett is a telepath and proceeds to unknowingly wreck canon in all the best ways. It’s a 5 chap short story and I love it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18114572/chapters/42823973 “First Lightning, Then Thunder” by Nervous Otaku. This is a RAVUS time-travel fixit, 87 chaps long (tho the chaps are short) and fully completed. Basically Ravus dies, the Astrals think “Free Real Estate” and proceed to dump him into the past in the body of a Coeurl. It’s angst and shenanigans and Ravus stubbornly refusing to admit that he is growing attached to these tiny child versions of people all while going through hell and high water to protect them from destiny. It’s a happy ending too!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21681499/chapters/51709084 “Victorious” by Kyirah. This one hasn’t updated in a while? But it’s got 14 stellar chapters of Noctis being gently plopped back into his child self with only vague memories of the future while the Lucii and the Astrals set about fixiting the world on his behalf. It also features adorable, slightly daemon-but-don’t-worry-he’s-fine Prompto and Dadcor. Also ghost Ardyn.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18116312/chapters/42828299 “cyan boys” by dreamtowns. 6 chap, slightly cracky time-travel, only instead of straight time-travel, Noctis and Prompto wake up in a parallel dimension where some stuff is ... different. Such as them being kids while Gladio and Ignis of that world are already adults. It’s just a nice, quirky, kinda angsty-in-places read and I really enjoyed it (despite the undertones of slash that crop up in some places but hey maybe that’s your cup of tea) but as always read the tags and decide for thineself.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15073931/chapters/34948019 “Nocturne” by nirejseki. The Taur AU that inspired Nox Taur, 11/10 do recommend (even though there are slash and femslash ships in there later on but HEY just because I skipped over those parts doesn’t mean this fic isn’t great). Features baby Noctis being adorable, some cool world-building, Regis being a Good Dad, DadCor, and just- a great fixit all around with some amazing AU take on the Astrals and the prophecy and all that stuff.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11648547/chapters/26204799 “Introductions” by doodly_squat. This is ... essentially a canon compliant look at Prompto first introducing himself to and getting to be friends with Noctis. Picks up that moment in the Brotherhood episode where he says hi on the first day of high school. It’s short, but it’s finished and it’s great, there’s some Prompto angst, and it has a sequel with even more Prompto angst! That is also finished!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10869282/chapters/24144864 “Running Behind” by Asidian. An MT!Prompto AU where Prompto is raised as an MT (which are cyborgs here rather than canon’s ... whole thing) and then runs away when he learns he’s going to be decommissioned. He’s found a year-ish later by the other Chocobros on their roadtrip and they, unaware he’s a runaway MT, take him along because he clearly needs help. There’s feels and bonding and brotherly feels and also angst and drama because MT!Prompto is terrified of many things. There’s also descriptions of the aftermath of torture, which I didn’t find too bad but as always check the tags and the rating against your own comfort level. It has a happy ending tho.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11725950/chapters/26417871 “Poor Wayfaring Stranger” by lithos_saeculum. The last fic I’m gonna rec for now and just- I CANNOT rec this one enough. I love it so much. 59 chap, ongoing MT!Prompto AU where Cor finds this teenage MT unit and takes him home. There’s DadCor and Prompto learning how to People and the Chocobros getting attached and major angst at various stages because of how Prompto is treated (he has MT modifications and some people looking at you Clarus need to take a chill pill about it). It’s told entirely from Prompto’s POV which is FASCINATING and the author does a stellar job of picking out stuff that Prompto just- wouldn’t know about or understand because he’s been raised in a lab all his life.

[grabmy-bat]

mk, for the ask game, 1, 2, 3, 4, 9, 11, 13, 15, 18, 21, 25, 34, 36, 37 (sry thats a lot!!!)

completely fine!!

1-What was the first Twenty One Pilots song that you heard? I mean, probably stressed out, but the one that got me hooked was Tear in my Heart on the radio

2-How did you first hear about Twenty One Pilots? Uhhh, well, as aforementioned, Tear in my Heart kinda spurred my whole,,,,obsession, so i guess hearing that on the radio? THO I HAVE A SMALL STORY TO TELL. One time when i was like, eleven? before clikkieness, me and mom were downtown one night, and it was rlly busy bc of a twenty one pilots concert. I had no idea who they were! I didn’t care! I---i was like, a mile away from the bois and did not realize it ahahahhahahahhhhhhh. smh younger self

3- What is your favorite Blurryface theoryr? guhhh, i don't honestly know.

4- Tyler Joseph or Josh Dun? it changes! but right now it's tyler, tho i mean, jishwa is my boyyy it's a very hard question.

9- Do you have/want any Twenty One Pilots tattoos? I kinda want Taxi Cab lyrics on like, my ankle, or smt from truce, since those two kinda mean the most to me.

11- Which lyric(s) has the most meaning to you? The ENTIRE of taxi cab lol, and 'the sun will rise and we will try again//you will die now your life is free'. rlly, just those two songs.

13- Can you rap the second verse of Ode To Sleep? At the moment, NO, but it's a goal. I can do a little bit, but i mean, that's like god level rapping right there.

15- If you met Josh & Tyler, hug, handshake or fist bump? since this question is clearly smt that would never happen, i'd wanna hug them. group hugggg. tho irl, i'd maybe feel weird, but i'd rlly want to hug them.

18- Which Twenty One Pilots song would you sing to serenade someone? We don't believe what's on TV or Formidable

21- Self-titled album or Regional at Best? Also changes, but currently self titled

25- Have you ever been recognized in public for wearing Twenty One Pilots merch? I DO NOT YET OWN ANY. But i'm looking for the perfect shirt to buy. I'm picky. But i rlly rlly hope so, cause bro that'd be sick

34- Ukulele or piano? piano :D

36- Which song do you want to see a music video for? No chances would be amazing I feel, and Morph might make a cool installment

37-Goner or Truce? Well, it's hard, cause uh, I will cry over them both, but for different reasons. But Truce is a,,,,brighter (slightly) reason? So Truce then

Thanks for the asks, these were fun!!!