#i aint fast enough to do more of these BUT. wanted to at least answer one

[sandflakedraws]

Trick or Treat!

Here you go!

Coco Ichibanya Chicken Cutlet Set

[chaoticrebels]

// He is definitely intrigued by her, that's for sure. And lol, oh Sean I adore you but whenever you are allowed to :P Ah, yes but I don't mind the length cause I get it, when the inspo hits, it's just like let's run with it lol.

A soft look of fondness flickered across his features, head tilting slightly. ❝Oh mousey, I'm flattered that you still have it. But luckily for you, you don't have to use it yet. Well unless you want to.❞ But the elf didn't want her to go just yet, not when he was promised longer. Yet he wouldn't ask her to stay, didn't have that right. But at least he had this time with her, an half an hour to get to know her better.

But then the female's action had his mind wandering again, now was pretty certain that Layla would prefer it if he didn't meet Sean. But why? He didn't understand but the fact that she didn't seem to want him to, only made him want to meet him that much more. Blame it on being drawn to the forbidden, yet his eyebrows furrowed in response to her words. Tongue clicking off the roof of his mouth in disappointment, now who said he was so easy to charm? ❝He's a charmer huh? Fascinating but they can be trouble. Hm, I think I'll be the judge of that mousey but I am definitely intrigued so guess we'll see what happens.❞

Eyes widening at the realization that she did catch sight of his fangs, despite how fast his movement was to cover his mouth. And she seemed kinda enthused about it, which was amusing. Hand moving away from his mouth, the corner of his lips tugging upwards in amusement. ❝I do, four on top and four on the bottom that are almost vampire like.❞ The elf admitted before chuckling, oh if she only knew what he was truly hiding from her. ❝Ah, ah, ah.. So you are saying all my secrets would be safe with you?❞ He questioned with a slight raise of his eyebrows before shaking his head.

It was actually amusing how quick the conversation could change, one minute they were talking about knights then the next about his fangs and now they were onto another topic. Colorful hues roaming over the female's facial features, lips parting slightly as he listened to her. Then his lips curved downwards, she had enemies? Oh no, no, no. That was just awful but he supposed that came with the territory of being close to royalty and what she does for one of them. And that almost made him question the possibility of that happening if they got close, if he trusted her enough to let her in to know everything about him. But he quickly snapped himself out of going down that rabbit hole because nope, absolutely not. ❝Hm, I am almost surprised someone as sweet as you has enemies. But then hearing you are friends with royalty and even spy for one of them, well that would certainly make some enemies. Sean has a sister, huh? Well aint that interesting.❞ Well would you look at that, just what else would he learn tonight? ❝So you have some tricks up your sleeve to get out of trouble, that's good.❞ Would have had to if she's gotten caught before, plus she did kinda demonstrate one way she got out of trouble when they met.

Of course it didn't take Kimo long to notice how Layla's stutter had disappeared, how she seemed less nervous in his presence. And that had only made him smile but then he heard her comment, which caused him to chuckle. ❝Definitely not a vampire, just an elf. But I get why you'd confuse me with one, it's the fangs, right?❞ She didn't even have to answer that, he had a pretty good idea that it was. But at least she knew the truth, could see the truth since he had dropped the glamor. Not that he looked much different, though that might be his supernatural beauty working in his favor. And yet, what was beautiful was the fact there was a faint blush upon the other's cheeks. Even as she began to apologize again, which caused his eyebrows to raise as he shook his head slightly. ❝Hm, well I sincerely appreciate that so thank you, wouldn't want to accidentally do something that I'd regret because I was startled.❞

A frown tugging at the corners of his lips, eyebrows furrowing at her when he received his answer. Leaning against the counter, fingers running through his hair before running over his face. ❝Do you think so little of me that you think I'd never want to see you again, just cause I met Sean? Oh, you think he can charm me. Is that why or is there something that I'm missing about your little friend?❞ Because clearly there was something she wasn't telling him and now he definitely wanted to know what that was. ❝Listen Mousey, we're now friends and that means you are stuck with me no matter what. And besides I don't typically expose my true identity to anyone that wasn't going to be in my life for the long run. So no matter what happens, it's going to be okay. Unless you want to leave me.❞

But that would suck, especially after he let her in. After he told her more about him, stuff he swore he wasn't going to but found himself doing anyways. Then she was telling him that his life was more exciting that hers and he couldn't help but to snicker softly, was his life exciting? Yes, in some ways. In other ways, no. So really it kinda depended on the day. ❝It depends on the day but I'm sure your life is exciting, just not in the same way as mine. Oh so you can sing but there's a bit of an attachment to it, fascinating. I wouldn't know what I'd do if I had that power, probably best that I don't cause it could be quite dangerous if I did. OH! You used it to escape, that's actually smart.❞

And then came the rest which caused him to shrug, though Kimo definitely didn't miss how Layla looked around at the mention of his bodyguard. Which he could reassure her that he wasn't here, if she was to run into him then it would have been while she was outside his place. Although he could almost guarantee that his pretend father had clocked her, had been watching her from a far til she was let in. But he wouldn't tell her that, didn't need her to worry. ❝It certainly seems that way, doesn't it?❞ Ki asked with a chuckle before shaking his head before shrugging once more. ❝But I don't know, I'd like to think they wouldn't care.❞ They probably wouldn't as long as she was no harm to him, his father on the other hand would. But that might be wishful thinking, after all most of his species think they are better than mortals and other races. Cocky little shits as one of the princes of Asgard had once said, which they weren't wrong but still there were those rare moments when one would stumble upon an humble elf and he'd like to think his mother was humble because he was.

The question had taken him by surprise, mainly because that's the first time someone has asked him what he wanted. For so long it had been the matter of when he was going to take his place on the throne and which throne would he take, til then it was stay safe while doing certain things for the sake of people who needed favors done. Don't get him wrong, he didn't mind being a spy and an assassin because he was good at that. But he loved his music, loved entertaining. And yet he knew eventually he'd have to give it up, all because his mother would eventually deem it safe for him to return home. It was the one thing his heart was semi torn upon, following his heart or being the perfect son. ❝I'm pretty content with my life, after all it could be worse so complaining about the things I'm not thrilled with seems to be a bit pointless. But you know, I think you are the first one to ever ask me that. Which it's weird.. Anyways, what about you, what is it that you want?❞

Layla hadn't even given it much thought, what would she have done if Kimo hadn't greeted her and invited her into his home? “I don't know, I suppose I would have just called Sean to pick me up early, I still have the pocket mirror you gave me.” The truth was, Layla valued the mirror as something very precious, there would not be a day that she would leave it behind.

Layla's eyes had cast downward as she nodded, there was no way around Kimo not meeting the March Hare, it would seem. Not without more questions, more thoughts - especially if Kimo's mind tended to wander like her own. “Of course, he is quite charming, I think you will like him, mostly everyone does.” She might as well get it over with, she thought, before she developed a stronger friendship with the assassin that almost blew off her head.

And that, of course was when she had caught his fangs slipping from his lips, it had been quick of course, a split second, but it had been long enough for her eyes to light up upon seeing them. “You have fangs!” She couldn't help the broad smile on her face, even as he rushed to cover his mouth with his hand. “Oh, no, you don't have to hide them from me. You don't need to hide anything from me, I assure you, no judgment here.” She, of course, was curious about them. Was he a vampire?

As he continued on talking about the Knight, she nodded though she was clearly distracted by what she had seen in the middle of their conversation. “---even I have enemies, some are by extension, you know, because I'm close to the King of Spades and the Queen of Hearts, I do... well, I spy for the Queen of Hearts sometimes, she is Sean's half sister.” Layla had paused for a moment, surely it did sound dangerous, not as dangerous as being an assassin, but... “--- I have more than one way to get away if I'm caught, and I've only been caught once.”

It was clear in Layla's demeanour that she had already felt comfortable around Kimo, even after seeing his fangs, she hadn't even stuttered once. Now wouldn't that have surprised Sean? “Oh, so you're an elf, not a vampire?---” It was then that Layla tilted her head, curious to learn more if Kimo was killing to tell her. His comment, however, about her apologizing too much, had a faint blush kissing her cheeks again. “Right. I'm --” No, he said she didn't need to apologize again, “I will ask first next time, promise.”

Layla had made herself comfortable at the table, shrugging as he asked her if this would be the last time he would see her. “Well, I don't know, it doesn't have to be, just -- after you meet Sean, it might be his visit you'll prefer, is all.” She wouldn't go into further details, unless he asked, choosing instead to listen in silence as he talked more about himself.

“Your life sounds way more... exciting than mine. I guess that is why I try and go with Sean as much as I can. I can sing as well, except, when I sing I have a power of sorts, an ability, to influence others. A sort of, persuasion, you might say. You remember when I told you I've only been caught once? It was how I escaped, I sang a suggestive song for them to fall asleep, they fell asleep, I got away.”

Layla had paused as she took in more of what he said, namely being royalty, having a personal bodyguard - (which, of course, had her looking around to see if they were hanging around somewhere) a pretend father, a war with Asgard, and his mother sending him to another realm to keep him safe. “Sounds like you have a lot on your plate, Ki. An elven assassin prince, friends with an ordinary Dormouse from Wonderland. I wonder if your mom and your pretend father would approve --” It didn't really matter though, what did matter was if Kimo did.

“So, given all of that, your responsibilities, your talents, your life, what is it that you want Ki? Or is the life you already have your ideal?”

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Words, Words, Words

Prompt: Hey, prompt idea! I would love some roman angst where after POF he stops talking and the other assume that he's mad at them when in reality he is unable to speak. As a selective mute myself, I would love to read a fic like this! - anon

it's been a while since I've posted fresh Roman angst and WOW did this jump out at me and go hey do you wanna project really really hard onto a character? 

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Roman is nonverbal for a lot of this story and some of the things he does when he’s upset by that are self-destructive, nothing explicit

Pairings: the found family kick aint stopping

Word Count: 4128

He didn’t do it on purpose. He swears, he—he didn’t do it on purpose.

  He just couldn’t talk.

It—it hurt, of…of course, it hurt to—to see the fallout of his bad decision explode with such…disastrous consequences. It hurt to see Patton so upset and confused because everyone was expecting him to have answers that he didn’t and—and Roman will take the blame for that, that’s his fault. And it hurt to see Logan so upset even when he was just there in his lowdowns and he—he didn’t have to be so cruel to Logan, that’s his fault too. And it—

  …it hurt to see that he really is just as awful as Remus, even if J—

  No. It doesn’t matter.

  Roman messed up. Really, really bad. And he’ll take the blame for that, he will, he—he knows he hasn’t been the best at accepting the blame in the past, but…he’ll take this one.

  But he didn’t do this on purpose.

  Roman doesn’t know whether it’s because he’s Creativity, or whether he’s the Ego, or what, but sometimes he just…can’t speak. Sometimes his words machine will just…stop working and he won’t be able to speak. He can normally still write or text, and he can understand when others talk, he just can’t say anything.

  The others don’t know, at least he’s never told them. He doesn’t want to be a bother—or have them start to make fun of him when he can’t defend himself—so he normally makes his writing days the ones where he can’t speak out loud. It’s a good way to make sure no one’s worried about why he’s shut up in his room all day or why he’s not speaking much at dinner. Plus, what kind of a prince would he be if he couldn’t talk?

  Don’t worry, he knows he’s not a prince.

  But the others like Prince Roman. Or rather, they like the narrative function that Prince Roman fulfills. So he does his best to make sure they…get that.

  But he didn’t mean for it to happen, not like this.

  He…he knows he messed up after the wedding. He sunk out and made it to his room and fell to his knees, hurt from everything and then some. The bruises hadn’t shown through his costume or gotten too far down his sleeves, but he—he still felt them. He tried to get up and make it to the shower to just wash off the day—the week—the month but getting his arms up to peel away the costume left him panting and he just wanted to curl up and sleep until everything stopped hurting.

  He managed to get himself into the shower and felt his tongue become lead in his mouth.

  He cleared his throat to try and make a noise but all that escaped was a soft rush of air.

  It…hurt.

  It wasn’t gone by morning. Most of the time he can sleep it off or—or if he just gives it some time he’ll—he’ll be fine but it wasn’t gone. His tongue lay there, useless, and he couldn’t say a word.

  That was okay, though, he could—he could make this a writing day. He wouldn’t dare touch anything he wanted to make for Thomas, his hands would shake too much and he—he doesn’t know what Thomas wants anymore so he wouldn’t get it right even if he could try.

  No, no, he could…he could write things for him today.

  Not as a reward for his atrocious behavior, not anything that would be read by anyone else or be useful in any way, but just to…to get some of the worst bits of him out so he wasn’t absolutely abominable when the others wanted him again. Yes, today he could…write.

  ‘Writing,’ what an interesting word for being willing to sit and bleed for others to see.

  Roman’s words don’t so much as pour out of him as much as he sets his fingers on his keys and then can’t control his typing. He just—it hurt and he knows that no one else would want to hear about his hurt so he pours them out into the blank spaces in the white page and tries to imagine that maybe, maybe, someone would read them and see how badly it hurt and pull him close and tell him that everything would be okay.

  If maybe, if he wrote a story good enough, if he made it hurt enough, someone would care.

  He sits there and pours into the blank document until it’s panting and weary from the torrent of words, until his hands ache and the tips of his fingers are worn warm and raw from the click-click-click of the keys. Until the hurt he feels gathers up into a small, dark well just under his tongue, right in the bottom of his jaw, itching and screaming to get out. It leaks out down his arms, making the inside of his wrists tingle as he types.

  No one will read this, no one will see it. These words won’t see the light of day anytime soon.

  And Roman’s tongue is still made of lead.

  He takes his words and lets them tumble clumsily out of his hands, trying in vain to scoop them up and shove them out of his mouth instead but his tongue won’t cooperate. He knows he can’t talk, that he can’t force it, that trying to make it happen will only lead to more pain.

  But he wants to try.

  When his words aren’t back by the next day, he swallows what’s left of his pride, which isn’t much, and goes out to face the others.

  He finds Patton first. Patton doesn’t acknowledge him, so he sits politely down on the couch with a notebook and waits, trying to see if his words will come out through the pen instead of his tongue. But Patton doesn’t talk to him unless he’s asking if Roman wants a drink and well, Roman doesn’t—doesn’t need words for that.

  Patton looks so disappointed in him.

  He wants to try. He wants to open his mouth and tell Patton he’s sorry. Sorry for everything. He wants to. He wants to.

  He opens his mouth and his tongue deflates, useless, just enough for him to sigh and hunch his shoulders in defeat.

  He doesn’t want to disappoint Patton, he wasn’t trying to disappoint Patton, he wants to apologize and be better, but he can’t.

  Perhaps that is the true disappointment.

  Logan is next to appear because Logan is Logan and Roman loves him and Logan always gets his cup of coffee in the morning before breakfast. He walks down the stairs and also does not look at Roman which is fine because that is what Roman deserves but he wants to try.

  He opens his mouth to call out to Logan or Patton but his tongue is so heavy and he can’t. He can’t speak. He should be able to speak, he should be able to say something to Logan, he should be able to tell him how sorry he is but he can’t and he’s useless.

  His pen stands frozen on the notebook pages, leaving a big, dark, useless well of ink.

  Logan sits down on the couch with a book and his coffee. He doesn’t look up at Roman. Roman stares at him, pleading, hoping that Logan will look up and meet his gaze, and maybe, just maybe, he can see how sorry Roman is and it will—something will be better.

  “Don’t stare at me, Roman, it’s rude.”

  Roman’s cheeks burn as he looks away. Logan didn’t move his eyes from the book once.

  He picks up the pen and watches it drip onto the page. The pages are wet, now, so much so that when he tries to pull them apart they stick together, the lines threatening to tear as he tries to separate them.

  He leaves them be.

  The next few hours are spent in a loop of trying to open his mouth to say something and only a soft rush of air escaping. He tries to hold it behind his hand and say please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so awful, I’ll be better, I promise, but the words won’t come. His tongue is taunting him, he decides, by pressing insistently up against the back of his teeth until he has to open his mouth only for it to refuse to produce words.

  He wants Logan to explain to him that talking works for him too. That the vocal chords and the muscles of the throat moving together build up pressure behind the larynx, which then chops up the stream of air to produce a steady oscillation for a sustained sound. He wants Logan to say it in that voice of his that makes it so everything makes sense so of course, Roman, you can speak, it’s okay. Everything is okay.

  But Logan would never say that, not to Roman, because Roman’s words aren’t worth Logan’s time.

  When Virgil comes downstairs, he tries. He really tries. He opens his mouth and everything and takes a deep breath and—

  Virgil marches straight over to Logan and sits down, his head on Logan’s shoulder and the two of them could not be paying any less attention to Roman.

  The wind gets knocked out of him. His mouth falters closed. He tries to open it away but his jaws are stiff and gummy, his teeth aching in his mouth as he tries to just talk. He just wants to say something, he just wants to apologize, he just waits to be sorry and have them all know he’s sorry, he’s so sorry, but they won’t know because he doesn’t have words.

  The words he wants to say are queuing up at the back of his throat, weighing his mouth down and he wants to say them, but he—he—he can’t. He wants to tell Virgil that he’s sorry he’s been the worst friend ever, that he’s sorry he’s so awful to their famILY, that he’ll go away and leave them all alone if that’s what they want but he can’t say a damn word of it out loud and he’s going to cry.

  But he can’t because crying isn’t words and the only thing the others want from him is words.

  If Virgil notices him trying, which he probably doesn’t, he’s kind enough not to say anything.

  Roman is terrified when Remus comes.

  Because Remus is loud and loves nothing more than to make Roman’s life harder. If Remus knew he was nonverbal right now, his best bet would be to leave as quickly as possible because he—

  Wait, no.

  If Roman wanted it to be best for him, he would leave as fast as possible. But Roman doesn’t know anything anymore so he doesn’t move.

  Remus, as it turns out, doesn’t care about Roman—which, why would he?—and instead flops proudly onto the floor and begins to talk animatedly with Logan about something.

  Roman wants to say sorry. Sorry that he’s never done anything right when it comes to Remus, sorry that he thinks being compared to him is the worst thing possible, sorry that he’s Roman and Remus is stuck with him.

  But his tongue is lifeless.

  So he is quiet, flipping aimlessly through his notebook, looking for something to give his words back.

  Was he selfish yesterday? Did he use all of them up on something no one would ever see? No, no, that’s not how it works, he just—he knows he should be able to talk, maybe if he just waits a little longer, his words will come back.

  But then Janus appears.

  And Roman needs to be able to talk now.

  Because he needs to tell Janus that he’s sorry. That he messed everything up and he’s awful and he knows it and he’s so, so, so sorry. And he needs to know that it isn’t a lie, that Roman is genuinely sorry and he just needs to speak, if he could just open his mouth and say something and say that he’s sorry and—and—

  Janus stops and looks right at him.

  Roman’s breath catches in his throat.

  Janus’s eyes narrow.

  Please, please, I’m sorry, let me say I’m sorry, I can’t speak, I want to speak, let me speak—

  Janus’s face cools into stone and he deliberately turns away.

  Roman wants to scream.

  He scrambles away from the living room and his hands fly to his hair, squeezing, pulling, trying to rip the sound from his throat because it won’t come otherwise. Trying to reach deep inside and find something, some word, some sound, some thing just to make it so he can talk, say he’s sorry, say anything.

  The computer screen blinks mockingly at him. Come on, it taunts, where was this agony when you were pouring your words out onto me yesterday? Why do you ache so badly now when you know you can’t do anything about it? Is it worth it?

  Nothing will ever be worth this. To have them there, right in front of him, and not be able to tell them how sorry he is.

  A silent scream is the best he can do.

  It doesn’t stop. His tongue doesn’t flicker back to life. Even after two days, three days, four, he still can’t manage to speak. He can’t manage to open his mouth and make a single word come out. He tries. He sits down in front of the computer and glares at the screen, forcing his mouth to make the shapes and forcing his vocal chords to make the sounds.

  He never gets further than a single word.

  He rushes, slurs, cheats in any way he can, and doesn’t even manage to get to the end of a sentence.

  He’s panting, in tears, trying, trying, trying so hard to say something, anything, because if he can say one thing, he can say more, and if he can say more, he can tell them how sorry he is.

  Roman would gladly give up all the words he doesn’t have to be able to say ‘sorry’ again.

  (Logan, downstairs, glances up from his book.

  Virgil is sprawled next to him on the couch, his head resting against Logan’s thigh. Patton is sitting on the other end, Virgil’s legs in his lap as he talks to Janus. Janus sits in the chair, his own book forgotten on his lap. Well, almost forgotten as he tugs it out of Remus’s grasp as he makes…something on the floor.

  “It’s been quiet recently,” he remarks to himself, “almost…peaceful.”

  Virgil shifts. “Yeah, I know. I kinda like it.”

  “So do I.” He glances down and, after a moment of hesitation, slides his hand into Virgil’s hair. “Is this alright?”

  “Yeah, L, that’s fine.”

  “Aww, you two are cute.” Patton grins at them. “It’s been nice lately, hasn’t it?”

  “Mm.” Janus tugs the book out of Remus’s reach again. “Remus, I certainly understand what you want with my book.”

  “Art, Janny.”

  Janus rolls his eyes fondly but his gaze softens as he takes in the room. It has been quiet. A good kind of quiet.

  He doesn’t know it didn’t happen on purpose.

  That Roman isn’t being quiet on purpose.

  He didn’t do it on purpose.

  Because when has anything Roman’s done on purpose been right?)

——————————————

Thomas sighs, his hands on his hips, as Patton and Logan begin to bicker for the third time in the past ten minutes. Across from him, Virgil is fidgeting uncomfortably as his gaze flicks back and forth between Janus and Thomas.

  “Guys, are you really not going to do anything about this?”

  “Oh, yes, because that’s how we solve every problem, just make me deal with it.”

  “Okay, first of all, I said you guys meaning you and Thomas, second—“

  “Oh, here we go, another lecture, oh goodie.”

  “That is not what I’m doing—“

  And now Virgil and Janus are fighting too. Thomas resists the urge to bury his face in his hands. Barely. Just barely. He shakes his head. The Sides aren’t normally this hard to manage, typically it’s just a matter of everyone actually understanding what’s going on and then one of them will propose a solution and they’ll all wrangle it around from angle to angle until he finally gets a workable one.

  Not this time.

  He’s not sure why nothing’s working, but everything that’s been proposed just sounds like another problem, not a solution. Why coming up with ideas is so hard today, he doesn’t—

  Wait.

  Has…has Roman said anything today?

  Thomas glances at Roman. Roman stands where he always does, watching the others with a strangely blank look on his face. Thomas frowns. Roman…Roman doesn’t look great. He looks paler than usual, his face is a little poofy.

  “Roman?”

  Roman looks at him, his brow quirked.

  “Do you…have any ideas?”

  Roman’s face falls and he swallows. Thomas’s frown deepens when Roman shakes his head sadly.

  “Hey, wait,” Virgil says, turning to face him, “Thomas is right. You haven’t said anything all meeting.”

  “You have been remarkably quiet. Especially for you.” Logan adjusts his glasses. “Have you not come up with a single idea?”

  “Okay, guys, wait—“ Thomas tries.

  “No wonder we aren’t making any progress,” Virgil cries, throwing up his hands, “it’s because the guy whose job it is to come up with ideas isn’t doing anything!”

  “That…would explain it.”

  “Come on, kiddo,” Patton says, looking at Roman, “you must have something.”

  Roman just shakes his head again.

  “Of course he doesn’t want to share it with us,” Virgil growls, “he’s probably waiting for us to figure it out for him because he’s still mad.”

  Patton sighs, shaking his head and putting his hands on his hips. Even Thomas wants to flush from the disappointment in his voice. “I understand being mad at us, kiddo—I’m not happy about it, but I understand it—but taking it out on Thomas? That’s really selfish of you.”

  Roman flinches, his hand going to his chest. Janus rolls his eyes.

  “Oh, Roman doesn’t know what that word means, remember? He’s all about selflessness, not selfishness, no, not a single selfish bone in his body, Roman.”

  Virgil snorts.

  “I am also disappointed,” Logan sighs, “but not surprised. But seriously, Roman, I think this temper tantrum of yours has gone on long enough.”

  “Watch out, he’s gonna say it’s not a temper tantrum.”

  Is…is this how they are to Roman all the time? Thomas stares at the other Sides in confusion. Has he just never noticed how mean they are to each other before? Or is this…new? He looks back at Roman and opens his mouth to say something when he notices Roman’s hand is still on his chest.

  And…moving.

  His thumb is tucked against the top of his fist and Thomas watches as it circles once, twice, and stops. Once, twice, and stops.

  “Roman,” he says softly, cutting through the growing voices of the others, “Roman, why are you sorry?”

  “What?”

  “Thomas, what’re you—“

  “That—this—“ Thomas makes the sign himself—“that’s the ASL for ‘sorry.’ Remember?”

  Logan looks back at Roman who does it again. “So it is. But—Roman, why are you communicating using ASL, which none of us are fluent in? Most of us aren’t fluent in, my apologies, Janus—“ Janus waves him off— “why not just say that you’re sorry?”

  “Roman,” Thomas asks, still quiet, “can you speak?”

  They all watch in silence as Roman slowly shakes his head.

  “What do you mean you can’t speak?”

  “Probably just that, Virgil.” Logan adjusts his glasses.

  Thomas spares him a glance before refocusing on Roman. “Are you okay, buddy?”

  Roman looks at the ground. Virgil watches him for a moment before leaning to Logan.

  “I’m gonna guess that’s a ‘no.’”

  “How long has this been happening?”

  “Yes or no questions, guys,” Thomas reminds, “and…not too many.”

  “Right.” Logan takes a breath and when he speaks again, Thomas furrows his brow at how much softer Logan sounds. “Roman, has this been happening since the beginning of the meeting?”

  Roman nods.

  “Has it been happening for longer?”

  Another nod.

  “How long,” Virgil asks warily, only for Logan to hiss ‘yes or no’ in his ear, “right, um…has it been happening for longer than a day?”

  Roman nods, studiously avoiding eye contact. Janus bites back a curse.

  “Roman, have you not been able to speak since the wedding?”

  When Roman nods again, Thomas has to bite back a curse of his own. Virgil doesn’t.

  “Fuck, Princey, why didn’t you tell one of us?”

  “With what words,” Janus spits, “and who’s to say we would’ve believed him?”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Patton murmurs, reaching for him, “I’m so sorry.”

  At this, Roman shakes his head furiously.

  “Hey, hey, easy, Princey, it’s okay, what was that for?”

  “He seemed to really dislike the idea of Patton apologizing…”

  “What were you apologizing for, Roman,” Thomas asks instead, “before we—before?”

  Roman nods.

  “Yeah, bud, you were apologizing, do you remember what for?”

  A nod.

  “He’s saying ‘yes,’” Virgil murmurs.

  “Yeah, we got that.”

  “No, I mean—“ Virgil sighs— “you asked him what he was apologizing for and he’s saying ‘yes.’ That means anything you could ask him if he’s apologizing for, he’d say yes.”

  “So…” Logan looks back and forth between them. “He’s apologizing for…everything?”

  “Yeah.”

  And Roman nods.

“Oh, sweetie,” Janus says softly and whoa, that’s…unexpected, “you don’t need to do that.”

  Roman’s mouth hardens stubbornly as if to say yes I do.

  “You can’t be blamed for not being able to speak, Roman,” Logan says gently, “it’s not your fault.”

  “Kiddo,” Patton calls when Roman still looks unsure, “are you mad at us?”

  Roman’s head snaps up and he shakes his head frantically. Patton holds out his arms to soothe him.

  “And we’re not mad at you, sweetheart, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

  “Let’s call it here,” Thomas says, giving Roman a nod, “we can figure this out later.”

  “What do you need, Roman,” Virgil asks, “how can we help?”

  “That’s…definitely not a yes or no question.”

  Thomas frowns. Then he reaches out a hand.

  “Hey!” Remus pops up, manic grin and all. “What’s shakin’, bacon?”

  “I do not think bacon shakes, Remus.”

  “Sir Francis Bacon?”

  “What?”

  “You two gotta stop watching Phineas and Ferb,” Virgil mutters.

  Remus just grins and turns, freezing when he sees Roman. Thomas blinks and Remus’s entire demeanor changes.

  “Ro-Bro? Roro, you okay?”

  Roman looks up at him. Remus lays a hand on his shoulder.

  “You nonverbal?”

  Roman nods. Remus wraps his arms around Roman’s waist.

  “I’m taking this,” he announces, “bye!”

  Thomas chuckles as Remus sinks out, Roman in tow, even as Patton and Virgil rush after them going ‘let us help!’ Logan just rolls his eyes fondly and follows them. Thomas catches hold of Janus’s cloak before he can leave too.

  “Are you guys always like that to Roman?”

  Janus gives him a strange look. “You mean are you always like that to Roman?”

  “What?”

  “We’re you, Thomas,” Janus says bluntly, “we’re the physical manifestation of what goes on in your head. Or have you forgotten that your main way of problem-solving is to summon metaphysical color-coded versions of yourself and talk to them?”

  “Your point?”

  “The way we act is how you see us. We behave how our respective parts of you behave.” Janus gives him a look. “If you think we’re being mean to Roman, what does that say about how you feel about your Ego or your Creativity?”

  Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh, no.

  “Take better care of yourself,” Janus says, softer now, “and it might surprise you.”

  “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “I think,” Janus says, looking far too smug as he pulls away, “you mean that you can’t help yourself.”

  Thomas scoffs as Janus disappears but after a few seconds, his words start to make sense. He turns to grab his laptop and opens it, finding a blank document and watching the cursor blink.

  The others might not be able to listen to Roman, but he always can.

  “Alright,” he mutters to himself, “let’s see what Roman’s got to say.”

  General Taglist:@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness  @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes  @iminyourfandom  @bullet-tothefeels  @full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83  @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious  @firefinch-ember  @fandomssaremysoul  @im-an-anxious-wreck  @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch  @enby-ralsei  @unicornssunflowersandstuff  @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams  @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb  @cricketanne  @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer  @i-am-overly-complicated  @annytheseal  @alias290  @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees @meltheromanstan

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

[wizkiddx]

stop caring

yooo, so this is actually taken out of one of the sort of I guess series-esque things I’ve written, but it kinda just got shit at the end so I've given up and just wanted to post this instead. So sorry if some of the backstory isn't that clear or anything

tomhollandxfamous!reader

Summary: after your break up you bump into tom at a charity event and when shit hits the fan personally for you, someone who understands you is really what you need (angsty!!! maybe a bit of fluff too?)

TW: panic/anxiety attacks + mentions of assault

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3 months. 3 months you’d managed to avoid the boy that had given you the most joy in the previous years. 3 months without your best friend; of even when you’re with company feeling like a part of you was just absent. 

And you had been thriving. Well… that’s what everyone thought. That’s what you tried to portray, because no matter how ‘famous’ or ‘successful’ people perceived you to be - ultimately you were like anyone else. Making your insta pop off after the breakup. And so to the outside world, through the very very small lense of social media life was great. Parties, friends, work. 

You were a woman in demand - in all senses of the word. 

But of course, as is the 21st century world, it was a lie. Instagram showed only snapshots of what can be very long 24 hours in a day. Naturally, a select few obviously knew - your best friend, Y/f/n being one of them. Yet still you were missing that one support, that one person who would drag you back to reality whenever you got too much into your own head. It actually rather annoyed you, how dependent you had got on him, in every part of your life. 

And you really hadn’t expected to see him here today. You’d had your assistant check the guest list, he wasn’t on it. While getting ready, you had avoided all the products that reminded you of him; that soft nude lipstick he loved you in so much; your favourite (exfavourite) earrings. Had you known it, you would have worn these. Just because you knew it would get on his nerves a little bit. Nevertheless here you were, perhaps a little underdressed for the charity dinner in a dress you’d already worn before (because apparently that was a sin in the world of Hollywood). You couldn’t pin point from when, but it was simple yet elegant if you did say so yourself. A dark blue satin dress, that sat off your shoulders in a Bardot style; hugged your waist to accentuate your curves; then flowed outwards down to the floor with a slit up your right leg. It was simple compared to the sequin studded, diamanté jewelled dresses the rest of the women seemed to sport but it made you feel comfortable. 

Besides, that’s what you needed today. This was the first time after the breakup you’d attended a public event without your best friend-turned-assistant-turned-absolute-life-saver. Y/f/n had been the greatest with you all through your life but especially recently, she deserved the break to go back home and see her family. It was a pretty decent excuse too, her cousins wedding, so you were in absolutely no place to complain.

Evidently it just HAD to be this event then, while you were flying solo, that you’d be faced with…well with his face. His fucking gorgeous, perfect and oh so sweet face. 

Just seeing him, just seeing Tom fucking Holland, had the most intense burst of adrenaline course through your veins as you desperately scanned the rest of the room. Looking for an out, an excuse, someone to latch onto for the rest of the night. A distraction even. 

Never one to admit it openly, but really you knew your coping mechanism of the past months had been to sleep with who you wanted. Because the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else right? You knew it was stupid too. Not because of slut shaming or anything ( we aint got no outdated views here), but simply it wasn’t you. It wasn’t a good idea for you. It didn’t fit. 

Tom hadn’t seen you yet, so if you latched onto someone you’d likely be in the clear. So obviously, when your frantic glances landed upon Joe Keery, you literally sighed in relief. Joe was great, stranger things was a bit of a guilty pleasure for you - especially when you were in your trailer and bored. Just due to your line of work, you’d met a couple times, he seemed like decent crack and to you knowledge was single. 

Unsurprisingly then, you almost marched over to Joe, ignoring the slightly shaky feeling in your leg as your hearing seemed to focus completely on the sound of Tom’s bright laugh. 

It was your choice too. You’d chosen to end things. It was on you. Well really, both parties were equally guilty. Tom was the one who had been too tired and highly strung and exhausted to put effort into the relationship. Stupidly though, you were too in love to realise for so long, in doing so draining yourself in the process. The constant flying cross country to see him, when he couldn’t ever return the favour because he was too busy. It was chipping away at you, even if you didn’t notice. It took an intervention by your manager Davey and Y/f/n for you to see things for what they were. To see that Tom didn’t care as much as he used to. 

He tried to fight for it, of course Tom did, because he also truly and deeply loved you. Nonetheless though, it was too late. And that was it. You closed that book and returned it to the library. Something your mind occasionally drifts back to  and you think ‘huh that was a good read’ - yet that is the only space it occupies in your mind. 

OR that’s how it should be. Not you yesterday, comparing everything your date did to Tom and deciding everything was worse. Not you today, seeing him and nearly being floored by the way the suit was tailored to his body oh so exquisitely. Not you now, hearing his bubbly laughter and having to fight your muscles from taking you back into his arms. 

In short, you were highly strung and pining over a boy you’d killed your chance of happiness with. 

Not to blow your own horn, you knew Joe wouldn’t be against having your company for the evening. After all, you were a young, beautiful and upcoming actor. You were ,at the very least, self aware. And so for a good few hours you almost forgot about Toms presence, spending the time before the speeches sharing a ridiculously overpriced bottle of wine (or two) with him. He was funny. He made you laugh, even if he was pushing the limits occasionally and teetering just on the right side of socially acceptable. It was risky and in that moment, with the alcohol in your system, it made him seem more and more of an attractive shag. 

By the time the speeches started you were both overly giggly and had to keep shushing each other as the presenter called for quiet. Inherently, you knew exactly the location of Thomas - who he was sat around; the main he’d had at dinner; the brand of beer he’d been ordering.But that was subconscious. You were here with Joe. 

Under your voices, whilst getting some disapproving looks from the older, more mature, members of your table you and Joe sat through the first boring speech whispering jokes under your breath - making each other clamp their mouth shut to avoid bursting out laughing. Though tipsy, you were very aware of Joe inching closer and closer, while his hand was casually brushing yours or your shoulder or waist more often. You knew this was low, being so blatant in front of Tom. To be quite frank though, should you care? And did he care?

The answer in your head at least, was an almost certain no to both. 

One speech merged into another spent giggling away until Joe did something he didn’t mean. Heck he didn’t even know. His jesting quickly had toppled completely over into absolutely not category. Your brain felt like it was swimming as the name you’d avoided after that incident , almost ten years ago. The flashbacks came thick and fast. You an innocent young actor wanting to make a way in the industry. And him. A powerful, ridiculously important slightly overweight 50 year old with bad breath. That room in the corner of his hotel that you were completely lost in. 

You were going to be sick. 

Somewhere, distantly, you heard Joe saying something… asking you? Asking you if your were good? It was drowned out by a roar in your ears, you jerkily nodded your head. You knew your breathing was jilted, shaky and shallow. You knew your heart was exploding. It actually felt like a heart attack, the way it seemed to be beating as though it were going to break out of your chest. This time you really really needed an out. 

So without any words, leaving a bemused Joe, your chair screeched on the floor as you stood up, garnering the attention of the whole room. The heads literally swivelled to stare at you, judgement clearly there as you frantically half ran to the back of the room, pleading if your head fro the toilet to be nearby. You needed to be away from everyone and safe. 

Thankfully your escaped the room and the beady eyes, locating the bathroom where you threw a cubicle open, shakily locking it before collapsing into the wall in floods of tears, harsh sobs racking your frame as you clutched your hands to your knees and rocked slightly back and fourth. You dress being a full length ballgown was spilling out into the the nearby cubicles and under the door, but presumably you were alone in the loo - not hearing any other signs of life beyond your own sobs. 

This always happened when you had your anxiety attacks. It was like clockwork. Zone out, stop hearing, loose control of breathing, heart starts pounding, make a quick escape to a toilet, cry and then…

Well back before Tom, it had been to throw up. That was the only thing you’d ever found to ground you enough to get your body backorder your own conscious control. It was like a wave of relief after, like the drowning feeling in your lungs had just evaporated away. But the Tom happened. The first time he’d seen you panic he hadn’t a clue what to do either. SO he had just sat with you, not wanting you to be alone in that state and waited. That panic though, had lasted so long that you’d almost made yourself pass out from the hyperventilating. When that had happened, Tom had gone into emergency mode. He had been scared to touch you, in case that made you worse, but when he saw your body going limp he didn’t have a choice. He’d collected you into his arms, with your head against his chest. Being this close to calling an ambulance, the relief Tom felt when your breathing got more and more regular was unparalleled. 

Together, when he had you lying in his bed (recovered, if mortified and exhausted) was when you realised that you hadn’t been sick. And that was because of him. You’d grounded yourself on his heartbeat and breathing, listening to it and making yours sync up. Thats what had saved you that evening. 

Now however, Tom was gone. This was the first panic attack you’d had since he’d been gone. Of course while you were together you were rarely in the same place, even so you’d phone him. But not now. 

This all led to you sat clutching your knees as your mascara dripped down your cheeks as you had to fight to get enough oxygen into your body. You didn’t want to get into that vicious cycle of making yourself ill again. It really hadn’t been healthy.

Who knows how long you were sat there sobbing before you heard the door open and in response you clamped a hand to your mouth trying to stay silent. This irrational fear overcame you as you sat stock still, fearing the footsteps on the marble floor of the fancy function venue. Even the toilets were pretty posh. 

“Y/n?…. It’s-it’s Tom.” Oh. My. Fucking. God. That was all that was going through your brain as you bit you lip - presumably painfully, yet you didn’t really feel pain in your current state.  “Look I saw you leave and I know your on your own tonight… I-I couldn’t leave you on your own if your… well you know.” Everything was going so so fast in your brain, that it actually scared you into stopping crying, so much so you felt your hand flop back down to your side. “…I was waiting outside because I didn’t want to errr you know… but you’ve been 20 minutes so I need to know your good…..okay?”

The boy was too fucking good. And stubborn… he was too stubborn and you knew he wasn’t going to give in. It was also fairly evident that he knew you in here - there was no pretending you didn’t exist. 

“Y/n? Come on you gotta let me know.”

“I’m fine. You-you go.” Only when you spoke was it evident to yourself just how not-okay you really were. Tom just chuckled and spoke again.

“How long have you known me for? That’s just not going to happen is it.” You already knew this, but something about the way he said it made you realise a sad laugh, momentarily making you feel a bit more in control. He seemed to like that response, you heard him bend down and then saw the bottom of his tux as he sat down leaning against your cubicle door.

“Is …is this your first one… since?  You both know what he was talking about. Since you broke up. 

“Uhmm I-“ You swallowed down a fresh rise of nausea, somewhat determined to not throw up when you ex is barely a metre from you. “Yeh I suppose.” In didn’t seem a revelation to Tom, yet he still hummed lowly in response as the room drifted back to silence. 

“You… you wanna try to breath with me?… You don’t have to open the door just…”

Croaking a please in response because this feeling was really blood awful and you wanted it to end, Tom started exaggerating his breathes, as you shakily and eventually managed to start to time it with his. Without thinking, when Tom’s palm snuck half under the door you immediately grabbed and squeezed it - the contact helping to synchronise your body with his. 

It should be an alien feeling after your time apart. But no it felt oh so natural and so very right. 

Once you’d collected yourself and realised how bloody stupid this whole situation was  you withdrew your hand back, loosing the warmth as you shook your head in disapproval of yourself. So very fucking stupid. He was silent for a bit, letting you think things through whilst still sat outside your cubicle. 

“You good now?” You hummed in agreement and you felt Tom’s head fall against the door, looking up to the ceiling. “Want me to go?”

“If you want to” That was met with silence, but a very telling lack of movement that spoke a thousand words.

“You should get out of here… you wanna avoid the trigger again and I mean I know you’re exhausted.” The boy had researched panic disorder and attacks when he found out you suffered with it - he probably knew more of the psychology of it than you, whilst never having any first hand experience of it.  Annoyingly he was right, as per, after attacks you always always slept for hours - it was just a draining process. “I’ll get you a car if you want?…. I’d like to make sure you get back okay if you don’t mind.” With only your cold and empty residual feeling left, his words still managed to ignite a spark of warmth in your chest. 

“I’m not going to ruin your evening Tom.” You tried to refuse even if it was very very forced and very very hopeful he wouldn’t give in. 

“I was having a crappy evening. Sitting in the ladies toilet talking to my ex through a toilet door has actually been the highlight.”He chuckled playfully in a self pitying way, somehow again making you giggle. And so he had you standing on slightly unsteady feet, your black heels held in one hand because no wasn’t the time to put yourself through teetering around on pin needles. The shuffling outside the door meant Tom stood up too - before you unlocked the door and opened it. 

Prior to seeing Tom your eyes locked on the sight of your reflection, in the mirrors above the sinks opposite you. Perhaps the only way to describe it… it was a sight. The shock being in the juxtaposition between the elegant dress, which even having been crumpled on a bathroom floor had somehow managed to survive and still look near the off-the-hanger; but your face? Oh that was a shit show. You’d cried your makeup off almost completely, leaving your face blotchy and shining as well as the ever so telling smudged mascara under your bottom lash line. 

You had to laugh or you’d just start to cry.

“Don’t worry I’ve seen you much worse.” You saw in the reflection as Tom leaned in and whispered in your ear, making your eyes roll and head shake as you looked from him back to you. 

“I look like a paps dream.” Without instruction, Tom bolted into a nearby cubicle, wrapping layers of toilet roll round his hand before offering it to you as a makeshift wipe.

“This is the glamour of Hollywood don’t you know? Wiping your face with bog roll”Thankfully taking it, you offered Tom a thankful smile as he stepped back, giving you space as he leant against another cubicle pillar. Once you finished up blotting your face, Tom had already shrugged off his jacket walking toward you as he offered it out. Tilting your head to the side in a questioning manner Tom just shrugged, saying it’d help avoid the paparazzi just in case. In reality you weren’t so sure, but anyhow you still appreciated the gesture and draped it round your shoulders with a muttering of thanks. 

At this point his phone pinged, the car was outside, so without any words exchanged he led you to the door, checked the hallway was clearly before guided you back to the exit. There didn’t appear to be anybody lurking around, which you were oh so thankful for as you almost threw yourself in to the safety of the blacked out car. Tom followed and you both, almost comically as if scripted, released a sigh in unison as you melted into the seats. That had you chuckling dryly as you sat in silence. 

“You know we can’t move till you say where you’re staying?” Teasing you, Tom shot you that ever mischievous grin that made the blood rush through your skin. After you’d told the driver, the car pulled swiftly out the laibi.

“Did he…did he say something?” Tom’s demeanour had steeled up and you looked questioningly up at him. “Joe… you looked…close.”

“Oh”. You were taken aback. You should have seen this coming to be fair, him asking for the trigger this evening - and yet you were more shocked at his jealousy. How he looked pained to mention Joe by name. “Um no… well sort of…it was a joke. He didn’t mean it but it er…it took me back.” Tom knew your history, he knew what happened all those years ago and he nodded slowly , keeping his eyeline straight ahead. 

“He’s a dick.”

“No he’s not…. He- he was sweet enough . It was all me.”

“What?”

“I pushed myself on him. I-I saw you… I was spooked.” Tom left it to drift back to silence. He had a lot of thinking to do too. 

He’d obviously kept up to date with you. Call it a professional interest. That was the problem being in love with someone when you weren’t allowed to be. But it hurt like hell, especially when he heard what you were doing. Because he knew this wasn’t you. He knew you sleeping around wasn’t going to help you recover - in fact he thought (and quite correctly) it was the opposite. That long term it’d only cause you more and more pain. 

“You know, you don’t have to do this?… I-I know it isn’t you. I’m not insulting or anything I’m… I’m just worried.” You knew he was being truthful . And infuriatingly he was right. Which only made it even more annoying. 

“Why do you care though?” Looking out the window that was all you could think to say. That was your subconscious talking as you didn’t really want the answer. Or you desperately did but you knew it’d be hard to get over. 

“Y/n” He sighed, making you look across at him “I’ve not stopped caring… I’ll never stop caring.”

Wasn’t that just a knife to the heart. You held your breath momentarily, not knowing what to think (nervermind say) in response to that. Everything in that car seemed to freeze, Tom’s eyes piercing the deepest and darkest parts of your mind as he stared at you. You both really weren’t over it. You were both hurting. You missed each other.

And you were about to dive in all over again. 

But then the indicator ticked on. The car pulled to a stop. The ignition switched off by the driver. You were at your hotel. The journeys end - quite literally. 

Tom felt it too. He knew if ever there was a chance, however rogue and unlikely, of you two working things out it was within this journey. And he’d failed.

“I-uh…I-this is me” Stammering through, distracted by the way Tom’s eyes shone with disappointment. 

‘Yeh - yeh it is I guess.”

“Well er… thanks for, well you know… for saving me. You er-you really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to”

“Yeh well er thanks…. And er-Oh! Your jacket” You realised, already tugging the tailored suit jacket from your shoulders. 

“No no it’s really okay. I have loads anyway.” See?In Hollywood you really weren’t allowed to wear the same thing twice. 

“Oh-okay. Well er….I’ll see you around I guess?”

“Can I walk you to your room, just to-check no one bothers you?” Tom was trying. Desperately trying. He could feel you slipping through his fingers again, this time he wanted to put up more of a fight. You shook your head thought, a sad smile gracing your lips. 

“I’d say yes but I think I know where that’d end up…. And I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Defeatedly nodding, Tom just smiled in a tight-lipped fashion, equally as sadly at you. 

“I’ll errr I’ll see you around.” While gathering yourself and preparing to exit the car, your hand on the door handle. Tom responded with a ‘yeh’ but before you left you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, before whispering under your breath..

“Thankyou Tom.”

part 2 ish of sorts --> link

[mrfeenysmustache]

#5 and SessKag 😬

HELL YEAH SESSKAG. Also hello best friend 🥲 you’ll be seeing this when you wake up so good morning 🥲

This one ended up a wee bit longer than the others lol

“Home stopped being a place when you entered my life”

#5 on the fluff prompt list

She’d met him at a party.

A Christmas party.

He stood stiff and awkward in the corner, a head and shoulders taller than everyone else, his crisp, fitted suit clashing with the silly holiday sweaters the rest of them wore.

“That’s my brother,” Inuyasha, her best friend and brother-in-law, whispered to her as he passed her a cup of punch, “we just reunited and the family aint too happy about it.” and she understood.

She made her way over, determined to bring him into the fold, or at least make him feel more at ease and welcome.

“Hello,” she greeted, his golden eyes slanting her way. “I’m Kagome, Kikyo’s sister. You know, Inuyasha’s wife?”

“Hn.” He responded with a nod in her direction. “Sesshomaru.”

“It’s so nice to meet you! Can I get you a drink?”

She watched his nose twitch discreetly as he scented the drink in her hand, and then his lip curled up just slightly in disgust.

“Oh, not one of these.” She giggled in response, “I know where they keep the key to the liquor cabinet.”

He relaxed just the slightest iota, and she practically beamed.

“Whisky on the rocks.”

“Coming right up!”

He sipped his drink slowly as she filled him in on every name, occupation and marital status.

Aside from Kikyo and Inuyasha, they had Koga, the bachelor bartender, Sango and Miroku, the married couple who owned a sweet shop, and..

“Me, and I’m a nurse.”

“No significant other?”

His voice, deep and rich, made the hair stand up on her arms in a pleasant way, but she resolutely ignored it.

“Nope! It’s just me.”

“Hn.”

He said little else, but she didn’t get the impression that he was annoyed, so she stayed near him as the party progressed.

“Bye everyone!” She called from the door when it was time to go. “It was so good to finally meet you Sesshomaru, I hope you’ll be around more often!”

He gave her a nod and a little smile, and she went home for a peaceful night’s sleep.

——

He was there for their next group dinner. Inuyasha warned them in hushed tones before he arrived that he may be in a foul mood.

“Things with the family have gotten worse. He barely talks so it’s hard to know what’s happened. I know they don’t like that he’s reconciled with me after they tried to completely shut me and my mom out for not being yokai, but I think there’s more he hasn’t told me. Just don’t be surprised if he’s moody this time.”

“As opposed to how warm and conversational he was at the Christmas party?” Koga quipped, laughing with Miroku and igniting Kagome’s fe mper.

“Well I thought he was nice!” she cut in, blushing when several sets of stunned eyes turned on her at once. “He was!”

“Yeah we saw you two getting cozy in the corner all night.” Miroku said, waggling his brow suggestively.

“We weren’t ‘getting cozy’ you insufferable letch. He looked lonely and uncomfortable so I talked to him. That’s all. And he was nice.” She shrugged, and then the conversation died as Sesshomaru himself swept in.

He took the only seat open, the one next to her, and Kagome felt her heart twist as he simply sat and covered his face with his hands, ignoring everyone else as they chatted and cut up.

Enjoying time with her friends felt hollow with such a wounded soul sitting next to her, but she knew so little about Sesshomaru she worried she might cross some unnamed boundary.

She took a large gulp of her drink and laid her hand gently on his shoulder.

“Sesshomaru… are you alright?” She asked quietly, speaking soft enough to avoid getting the attention of her friends but loud enough that he would hear. After a long moment where she was sure he wouldn’t respond, he pulled his hands away from his face and slowly reached into his pocket. He pulled out his cellphone and tapped the screen once, lighting up a photo of a cute, smiling little human girl with melting brown eyes.

She looked between him and the phone screen, unsure what he was trying to communicate, but certain it was connected to the cause of his dark mood.

“This is Rin.” He clarified, voice pitched low and for her ears only.

“She’s adorable.”

“Hn. She is my daughter.” He met her eyes, and the gold of his glowed firm and defensive.

Suddenly, everything made a lot of shocking sense.

“They don’t like that you’ve adopted a human, do they? Your family?”

“No. They do not.”

Pulling her purse off the back of her chair, Kagome retrieved her own phone. She scrolled through her pictures for just a moment, until she found just the one she was looking for: a grinning little Fox boy holding up a scribbly crayon drawing.

She tilted her screen over, and Sesshomaru leaned nearer to see.

“My son.” She said simply, and though his reaction was so subtle no one sitting any farther away from him than her would notice, Kagome thought she’d seen him sag in relief.

“We should get them together for a play date.” She suggested, and they exchanged numbers with plans to do just that.

————-

Rin and Shippo got along swimmingly, and, surprisingly, so did she and Sesshomaru. He’d grown comfortable enough with her that their conversation consisted of more than just her babbling at him and hoping he was listening. They shared their adoption stories, how they’d found their children and came to be their parents, the challenges that came with adopting children outside your species, he opened up about the backlash he’d faced from his family when he first brought Rin home, backlash he’d expected but hoped against hope he was wrong about.

“Once she warmed my heart and showed me the folly of clinging to the prejudices I’d been raised with, I reached out to Inuyasha in hopes of establishing a relationship with my only sibling. I’d never even met him before, as he and his mother were never allowed around the family before father died. Afterward, everyone acted as if neither ever existed. Likewise, Rin will never meet the rest of her relatives.”

Kagome watched the two children chase each other as they squealed with laughter. Uncomplicated fun between a yokai child and a human child. Completely different species, but alike enough to play.

“If she ever needs a grandmother, I’m certain my mama would take her right in. She’s loved getting to spoil Shippo.”

He smiled, small but true, and she went a little starry eyed at the beauty of it.

“Hn. I will keep it in mind.”

————

Play dates evolved into real dates, and though her friends teased them, they took it in stride. Quiet and controlled in public, Sesshomaru was soft and demonstrative with her in private. She’d never felt so secure in a relationship before, and the firm but nurturing hand he had with both children made them all feel safe.

They spent more time all together than apart, and soon life felt empty if they weren’t all together.

Sesshomaru occasionally came over with a dark cloud over his head after a particularly nasty clash with family, but she’d simply run her fingers through his hair until the knots of tension were soothed. He was a strong, yokai influence for Shippo to learn from; she was a tender human mother for Rin to thrive from, and when Sesshomaru asked if they could join their families together permanently, no question in her life had ever had an easier answer.

And no answer had ever had such drastic consequences.

News got out and around fast, and one night, less than a week after their joyous engagement, Sesshomaru and Rin showed up at her door with a suitcase each, and dour faces.

“We need a place to stay…. A place to live.”

“Oh my gods, come in both of you.”

They spoke nothing of it at first.

Kagome kept busy feeding the children, getting them bathed, and tucking them in together to giggle h see their covers before falling asleep.

As soon as their door was firmly shut, she sat at the table across from Sesshomaru and laced her fingers through his.

“I have been disowned and disinherited.”

Unsure what to say, Kagome simply squeezed his hand.

“They tolerated the fact that I’d adopted a human daughter, but they would not stand for me falling into my father’s footsteps and marrying a human woman. My choices were my standing in the family, or you.”

Tears filled her eyes as him being here could only mean one thing: he’d chosen her.

“Oh Sesshomaru. I’m so sorry.”

“As the house I resided in was family property I was no longer allowed to stay, and I was fired from my father’s company and stripped of all my rights to any part of it. I’m afraid I come here with nothing to offer you now.”

She stood and rushed around the table and into his arms, hunkering down into his strength, hopefully lending her own.

“Stop that. I don’t want anything but you and Rin. That’s all I need. I’m just so sorry you had to lose your home because of me.”

He rested his chin atop her head and let her scent calm him.

“My home.” He mused, looking around the tiny apartment he’d hoped to move her out of soon when they were able to merge their lives into one. It would be cramped with all four of them there full time, but it was already chock full of their memories. They would figure it out.

“My home stopped being a place when you entered my life, Kagome.”

She wept and he held her, one of the only treasures he had left in the world, while the other two slept soundly and happily in their bed.

[whitexwingedxdoves]

I’m with you | request

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: Gender identity not specified. (They/Them pronouns used) Warnings: Language Summary: Daryl finds you in the forest with a broken foot, when he brings you back to the prison he runs into a problem with the group accepting you. A/N: Requested by @hail-yourselves  Tags:  @browneyes528 @phoenixblack89 @srhxpci @jodiereedus22 @witch-of-letters​ @fantaziescapade​

The shooting pain in your foot made it difficult for you to continue to walk, you managed to pull yourself to some rocks and sat down beside them. You cradled your foot hoping to relieve some pressure but to no avail. Your ankle had swollen to the size of a tennis ball and even though you weren’t a doctor you knew for sure your foot was not meant to bend that way. You groaned to yourself, allowing your full body to lay among the mossy floor. You stared up into the tree’s just hoping life would give you some sort of break. It felt bizarre laying on the floor, it was an action you chose to avoid, for months now you had been climbing trees and securing yourself to rest for the night, you figured it was the best way to avoid the dead but now with your foot presumably broken you knew that would be next to impossible to achieve.

You were looking for anything to distract you from the pain that swelled in your foot but you didn’t expect it to come in the form of footsteps. You reached for your bow and armed yourself as quickly as you could sitting up perfectly straight to observe the surrounding areas. You became very aware of your inability to move when you heard the footsteps getting closer, your heart started to beat loudly but you managed to keep your breathing stable, yet another life saving hack you had to learn the hard way.  The footsteps seemed to be coming from behind you and you turned as much as you could, aiming your weapon directly in front of you. The tip of your arrow seemed to be pointing towards a man, an alive man. The first one you had seen in a while. You kept your weapon aimed at him as you watched him slowly creep around you, he had a crossbow ready and aimed in your direction “Drop it” he growled in your direction. You took a moment before you reluctantly lowered your bow to the ground, you kept your hands up to prove to the man that you had no intentions of killing him. 

“I have food in my bag, take whatever you want. I don’t want any trouble!” He never let down his guard but he seemed to take in your situation. He nodded towards your foot, his weapon seemed to point in its direction also causing you to shuffle slightly on the ground. 

“S’appened to ya foot?” you looked at the foot in question and shrugged before the man

“Must have broken it fighting off the dead” you let your eyes meet his again, he lowered his weapon a little but not all the way.

“Ya with anyone?” your head dropped at his question, you just shook your head remembering the people you had lost along the way. “What’s ya name?” 

“Y/N” you quickly responded, you watched him carefully for a response or at least to learn his name but before he even had a chance to reply you moment was intruded on by the dead. 

There were far too many for both of you to kill, you had little arrows left and it seemed he didn’t have much to his name either. You reached for your bow and started taking down as many as you were capable of. You glanced over at the stranger for a moment, you watched him wrestling with one of them, clinging onto his knife. He didn’t notice the one that was creeping up behind him, you took  your aim and sent your last arrow into its skull. The man turned immediately to watch the dead fall after taking care of the one he was wrestling with. His eyes shot wide before he darted towards you, he helped you up to your feet and your arm fell on his shoulders, you were slightly confused by his heroism but didn’t complain as you hobbled as fast as you could to get to safe ground. 

-

You made it out of the woods with the mystery man, he kept his hold on you as you hobbled down the road. He didn’t say much to you nor did you to him but you kept glancing over at him taking in the details of his face. It wasn’t lost on you how attractive he was despite looking like he hadn’t showered in a lifetime. You finally came to a stop outside what had previously been a prison, people came running to the gates to assist the man and allowed you both in. 

“Daryl, who the hell is that?” one of the people called. Daryl, that was his name, you thought it suited him well. 

“Y/N, got a broken foot!” he grunted, leading you further into the prison. You looked around at the surroundings completely amazed that a place like this even existed, you figured anyone else alive were just doing the same as you, scavenging and pitching up camp whenever they got too tired to keep walking. 

“You can’t just bring people back here, what if they’re dangerous!” a woman now chimed in, following you and Daryl up to the prison. “We have too much to deal with as it is!” The archer stopped in his tracks, turning around making you hobble with him as he faced the girl. 

“Y/N saved my damn life out there, can’t just leave em on their own ta die!” though his words were sweet he seemed to spit them at her before continuing on his path. 

“It’s just another mouth to feed that we can’t afford and without Rick-“ Daryl cut her off before she could finish, this time he turned without you, leaving you to stand on your own with great difficulty. 

“Rick goin crazy aint exactly ma problem! I’ll deal with feedin’ em. You jus worry bout ya damn self!” you felt the need to interject, you hated that your presence had caused a riff with the group, you knew they must have gone through a lot together to still be here and you didn’t want to be the cause of their downfall. 

“Look, I’ll leave I don’t want to be a bother” the archer shot you a look which only made you recoil a little more, backing up as much as you could as he approached you. 

“Na, ya stayin’, can’t do shit on tha’ foot!” you sighed at his words and turned your head towards the woman who seemed set on sending you back out alone.

“Once my foot’s better I can pull my weight, I’ve gotten pretty good at hunting –“ as you tried to make your case with her, you felt Daryl’s hand on your arm tightly squeezing it. He pulled you away from the situation and back up towards the building. 

“Don’t fuckin sell ya self” he growled, letting his grip go lose to pull your arm over his shoulders once more. 

-

You got inside the prison just fine, still using Daryl as a crutch. He didn’t say anything to the people he passed nor did they speak anything to him. You noticed a baby in the arms of a young boy which only made your heart hurt a little, thinking of the horrors that boy must have gone through that the baby will surely have to experience one day. You reached one of the cells and the man let you go to lay down on the bottom bunk of the bed. You let yourself sink into the mattress, the feeling felt so foreign yet it reminded you of home. You closed your eyes to perfectly picture your old bedroom, remembering the scent of your freshly cleaned sheets. You let your eyes open at the feel of the mattress shifting slightly, you watched Daryl as he rummaged through your satchel. He threw the protein bars you managed to find on the bed beside you and the packets of powdered mash potato soon followed. He pulled out three small, white packets of vegetable seeds that had been laying in your bag for a while now, he finally looked up at you, cocking his brow at his find. “I found them a while back, thought If I found somewhere safe enough I could plant them” he grunted at your words before throwing the seeds back into your bag and pulled out your flask, he shook it to figure out how much water remained in side but quickly realised there was nothing occupying the flask. 

He pushed himself from the bed and made his way towards the door “Daryl” you called out, hoping that you had remembered his name correctly. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at you “Thank you” you whispered sending him a smile, he bit down on his lip not entirely sure how to take your thanks.

“Get some rest” he finally replied before leaving you alone in the room which you would soon come to know was his.  

Daryl made his way across the court yard after filling your flask up with water but he was caught by the women from before, Maggie was her name, another thing you’d later learn. “Why you so dead set on helpin’ them?” she was blunt and straight to the point, the southerner just grunted at her words, fidgeting with the cap on your flask. “Daryl!” she continued to press the man until he couldn’t bare her voice anymore.

“Reminds me of someone” he whispered before pushing past her to continue his journey back to you.  Maggie followed after him, tried to get more information on who it was you bore resemblance to but he never answered her. He wasn’t quite ready to share that part of his past with anyone just yet.

[hoodedguitarist]

Think you can Hide from Me? Part 3

Once again, Gif aint mine I just REALLY LOVE IT. It’s one of my favorite scenes of him.

Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader

Summary: You infiltrated, the plan fell into chaos, Boba is mad at you, you’re catching feels, lots of time skips and some ANGST.

Warnings? None... Really not yet at least. Slight DinxReader if you squint. This just got a lot more feelsy and I got a whole lot more invested in this than I expected to. Which honestly seems to happen a lot to me. NO SHAME.

I really want to thank everyone who has liked, favorited, reblogged, and followed! You’re all amazing and make me feel amazing too. It means a lot to me that everyone is enjoying my writing. My inbox is open and I’ll even make a Tag List if anyone is interested!

Part 1: The Infiltrator

Part 2: The Distraction

Part 4: The Reunion

--

Part 3: The Regret

You should have known that plan was going to go off the rails. What you didn’t know, however, was that Boba was going to end up being a casualty of it all as well, and by complete accident.

Sure, you’d been caught with the others, sure you’d been sentenced to death with the others… And oh yes Boba was pissed… Very pissed. You didn’t need to see his face to tell that he was because instead of riding in the barge, he was there to personally bind you and hold you on the way to the Sarlaac pit.

Standing next to Han and Luke was going to make this conversation very awkward, but it needed to be said.

“Ok… So you’re mad at me, right?” You said out loud. Both of them glanced over at you, but you felt Boba’s hand tighten around your shoulder and yank you backwards into him. “Ah!”

“Mad is an understatement, sweetheart,” his modulated voice hissed.

“Ok, that’s fair… I’m sorry I lied to you about the whole work thing. Really, I am.”

“Uh… (Y/N)?” Han questioned.

“Stay out of it Han,” you snapped quickly. “You too, Luke. Mind your business, both of you.”

The two backed off and tried their best not to pay attention to whatever you could possibly be talking about with the bounty hunter, someone they considered an enemy.

“Was fucking me a distraction too?” Boba growled. Now the boys were really trying not to pay attention.

“No, actually, that part was real,” you turned your head to look at him over your shoulder. “I was telling the truth when I said I’d wanted to do that ever since I saw you, and still do, if you’ll have me.”

“I think that was your last roll in the sheets, princess. If you manage to make it out of this alive somehow, I’ll know and I’ll find you,” he threatened.

“Hm, sounds fun,” you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning. “If you make it out of this alive, I’ll come back and find you too. Do we have a deal?”

Boba scoffed and you figured he felt pretty confident that this was it and you were going to die some horrible death inside the belly of this beast.

“Deal,” he finally answered. 

Han and Luke both cut their eyes over at you and you shrugged. “I told you two to mind your own business.”

~*~

Things had happened so fast. One minute you were about to be shoved into the pit, the next Luke is jumping around doing Jedi stuff and mildly impressing you. You didn’t have time to admire, though, because you were struggling with one of Jabba’s guards while Han and Chewie were getting into it with Boba.

Somehow, you were trying to manage not getting killed but also trying to watch Han’s back because he was still blind, and now Chewie who had been shot… But also Boba because you really didn’t want him dying on you either. It was a weird situation all around.

You struggled with the guard and managed to land a hit, but then a blaster fired out of nowhere and hit him square in the chest, knocking him backwards and into the pit. You were startled and turned to look where the shot came from, and sure enough you saw Boba’s blaster smoking. Your heart jumped into your throat and he simply nodded to you… Until he turned his sights on Luke.

You heard Chewie howl something out, heard Han get jumpy.

“Boba Fett?? Where??” He whipped around and smacked the bounty hunter right in his jetpack, which malfunctioned and sent him flying.

“Han what the hell??” You yelled over the chaos.

“I didn’t know he was right there! I can’t see!” He yelled back. You looked over the railing rather desperately, just in time to see the bounty hunter roll into the Sarlaac pit.

Well… That was a damn shame...

~*~

Five years had passed, and the Empire was defeated. Ghosts and whispers still lingered, but the Rebellion no longer needed you. It was now the New Republic and you didn’t really have any interest in politics. You said your goodbyes to your friends, the true heroes, and went back to being on your own.

You weren’t on your own for long, however, seeing as how you got caught up in chaos with another Mandalorian. This one was different, however. He had a kid with him. You didn’t mind babysitting during the really dangerous stuff but at the same time you sort of missed the chaos. After a while, the kid wanted to be everywhere his dad was so you were able to tag along.

Being with them led you back to Tatooine, to a small place known as Mos Pelgo. You wanted to help Din get the kid back with his own kind and when they spoke of another Mandalorian in Mos Pelgo, you couldn’t help it as your heart jumped and your hopes spiked…

Especially when a ghost appeared in the doorway wearing Boba Fett’s armor.

You tensed beside Din, and he glanced at you briefly. 

“Boba…?” You questioned carefully, letting your eyes run down the person in front of you. He was tall, much more thin. There was no way…

“ ‘Fraid not, darlin’,” the ghost answered. 

First, you felt the icy cold stab of regret and loss all over again, then you felt the heat of anger bloom in you. Both you and Din were ready to throw down with the Marshal for entirely different reasons.

“Take it off,” Din ordered.

“Or I will,” your voice was a low warning, surprising all parties involved.

“I think I wouldn’t mind that,” the ghost now known as Cobb Vanth smirked at you.

“Yeah you say that now until you’ve got a knife in your back. Where the hell did you get that? And don’t say Jawas. That armor belonged to someone. Someone I knew!” You snapped. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, honey. Anything else would be a lie. I did get it from the Jawas.”

A growl slipped your lips and you took a step forward, but Din grabbed you first. In the end, everything worked out in your favor. Cobb gave up the armor in exchange for help against the Dragon that plagued Mos Pelgo. When the two of you and the child were back safely on the Razor Crest, there were several times when Din would catch you gazing at the old armor, running your fingers across it, leaning your head against the empty helm.

He even thought he saw tears…

Finally, one night, he managed to carefully edge the story out of you. It was a little difficult, but you managed well enough.

“It was just supposed to be a fling, you know? No strings attached, just to say I did it. But there was just something about him, something else that drew me to him. I wanted him to live, I tried to protect him but so many things happened that day, and so many things went wrong way too quickly…” Your voice caught in your throat, but you laughed despite yourself. “I ended up catching feelings for this fucking bounty hunter after he supposedly died.”

“It’s possible those feelings grew from guilt,” Din said calmly. “Thank you for telling me and trusting me with this. I’m sorry this is bringing you so much pain.”

“Oh they most definitely grew from guilt, but then when I saw his armor, hope grew. He had to have come out of it. He’s got to be somewhere, I just don’t know where… And I don’t know if he’ll kill me on sight, so you might want to get ready for that too.”

“(Y/N) when are we not almost killed on sight?” There was a hint of amusement to his voice, and it made you smile. “I think we can manage,” he assured you.

“Yeah… Let’s hope…”

~*~

Seeing the armor hit you hard, but being on top of that mountain with Din and Grogu and seeing Slave 1 come out of the atmosphere and into the sky really did a number on you.

“Oh shit… Oh shit…”  You muttered.

“What? Who is that?” Din looked over at you.

“I… I don’t know. It used to be Boba’s ship but there’s no damn telling now. I haven’t seen that thing in years. Somebody could have scavenged it or something.”

“Well we need to figure it out, come on,” he waved for you to follow, and you did so, trying your best not to seem too eager.

Unfortunately, that eagerness faded with the blaster fire, and the both of you took cover behind a rock.

“I’ve been tracking you, Mandalorian.”

That voice… It made your heart thunder in your chest. Masked by a modulator or not, you could tell it was him. You tensed and Din noticed. He looked over at you and you looked at him, eyes wide and lips parted. You gave a quick nod.

“It’s him… It’s Boba…”

“So not a Jedi… Great,” he whispered. The both of you eased out from behind the rock and you got your first good look at him. He was dressed in black robes, the hood thrown over his head, weapons strapped to his back.

“Boba??” You couldn’t stop yourself as you called out to him. He reached up and pushed his hood back, revealing a scarred face. It did nothing to deter you, however. He was older, but you were still just as attracted to him as you had been years ago. He stepped forward and moved closer, his eyes never leaving your face. It made you a little nervous. “If you’re going to kill me then ok, just do it, but I want you to know that I’m sorry first,” you said quickly holding your hands up. “I’m sorry for what happened that day.”

“Surprised to see me alive?” It was a simple question. No dark tone or anger.

“Relieved is more like,” you admitted. “I looked for you, for any sign of you after the war was over, but I never found anything. I knew somehow, though. I knew you’d survived, but I didn’t know if you’d want to kill me or not.”

“You know me well enough, girl. If I’d wanted to kill you, I would have done it right after I crawled out of that pit,” his eyes roved down you and you felt that old familiar rush, that feeling of playing with fire again. “It’s good to see you, princess, and we’ll talk later. For now, we need to talk about my armor that your man made off with.”

@pinkiemme @chadillacboseman​ If you need me I’ll be in the trash compactor thanks.

[eagesoldartblog]

7D with lewthur for the prompts meme? :0c

Misspoke

He was an idiot and a fool, and he presses his palm further into his face as Lewis sits on the other end of the call, dumbfounded.

“You… told Lance what?”

“That…” Arthur chokes and coughs into his hand, “that I’m … dating you….”

“...”

this is it, their friendship is over, there’s no way he can recover from this.

“Why?”

“I- I haven’t slept in nearly two days..! And my coworkers started talking about relationships and dating, and started talking to me about relationships and dating- and you know how I am! I can’t - I-“

“Struggle with communicating?”

Arthur flushes, crossing his leg and hunching over, leering at his doorway before covering his face again. “Y-yeah, that. And to make matters worse, when I said that ’oh, I’m actually dating my best friend!’ Lance then popped out of nowhere and said you- and then I said yes..!”

The adrenaline he felt was still pumping through him, even if he was all the way in his room, sinking into his bed like it was quicksand. “-So then Lance gave me a look and I’ll admit, I don’t know what that look means but I’m worried-“

“Arthur.”

His throat was dry, how long was he talking? “Ye-yeah?”

Lewis lets out a sigh on the other end, and Arthur could imagine him lifting his hand in motion with, “Breath, buddy. Inhale… exhale… you’re going to run yourself into the ground if you don’t let yourself relax.”

“Well I’m sorry!” Arthur says, face twisting into a half hearted scowl, “I’m fearing for my life- not really- because I can’t stop thinking about this and I don’t want him to-“

There’s a muffled voice on the other end of the receiver, Lewis’s breath hitches and he whispers, ”Ah, Arthur, I’m sorry but my mama wants to talk. Give me one moment..?”

Arthur gulps and bobs his head, and he listens to the phone clatter lightly as it’s set down - most likely on the metal racks that holds the dishes and-

Arthur’s stomach drops. A new sound stabbing into him. The one thing he wanted least of all.

Lance is coming up the stairs. His distinct steps and lumber seemingly made the entire bedroom shake. Head spinning, Arthur considered hanging up or throwing his phone out the window. He can’t think long on either option because before he knew it, the steps were coming directly to his door and-

“Knock knock,” Lances says, sounding calm and collected, “mind if I come in, boy?”

b-boy? Arthur sits there gapping.

Before he could find an answer, the door opens anyway, and his uncle peers in, locking eyes instantly.

He gruffs.

“I was hoping you’d be sleepin’ by now.”

Arthur clutches the phone, mouth stuck open in a horrified stare. Far from impressed, Lance crossed his arms and leaned against the door, silent for maybe a moment. “Shut your trap, you’ll catch flies like that.”

Arthur does so.

There's another beat of silence before Lance let’s put a heavy breath, expression relaxing. “Calm down, Art. I aint gonna do anything to hurt you. You know this. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

Despite how obvious it was for Lance to say that, Arthur still flinches before hesitantly relaxing himself. “Y-yeah? Fire away.”

The edge of his lip curls, “So you and Lewis are something, huh?”

Arthur flushes. Shit! He didn’t mute his call- what if Mama pepper heard that? Slamming his thumb against the front of his phone, Arthur accidentally ends the call and tosses his phone to the side.

Brushing his hand through his hair, Arthur makes a point to not look at Lance. “U-uh.. y..yes?”

“For how long?”

Shit, shit now there's lore. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“... A few months now..”

“And you didn’t think to tell your dear old man?” Lance chuckles dryly, surprising Arthur, “I would be insulted, if it wasn’t as clear as the damn sun in the sky.”

Obvious?

Lance laughs again, rolling his eyes, “You really thought you were sneaky, huh?”

Stammering, Arthurs gaze drops to the floor, “I… I guess.. we-we just wanted to… we were seeing if it would work out. Didn’t wanna make anything official just yet…”

“Why’s that?” Lance is smiling now, and his voice was everything but antagonistic. A relief but still just as concerning.

“Oh… you know… word travels fast. We-we didn’t want to .. I don’t know. We just didn’t want to be the talk of the town.”

Lance's smile drops a fraction, and it’s his turn to look away, “Hm, I hear that. There ain’t anything fun about your business becoming local news. But- what’d you think would happen?”

“I don’t know! Judgment.. I guess?”

“Artie, you know everyone in this town. You really think there’s a person here who aint queer as can be?”

Wait, holy shit, what? “..I .. I guess not, no.”

“Heh, didn’t take you to be that oblivious.”

Arthur flushes, but he doesn’t respond. Beside him, his phone starts vibrating, and his pulse spikes.

“That Lewis?”

He really didn’t want to check while you were still here… Arthur gulps heavily and nabs his phone, and sure enough. “Y-Yep. Hit the nail on the head.”

“Well then, I’ll leave you two to it…” Lance lifts his hand and waves, and Arthur’s anxiety wanes the smallest bit at the sense of … solidarity(?) relieves him. He nods in return, and Lance slips past his door and lets it fall shut.

As Lance starts his descent, Arthur picks up. “Hey-!”

“Arthur, oh my god.” Lewis sounds like he had just been laughing, but flabbergasted at the same time.”Our parents were betting on which one of us would slip first.”

Heart stopping, Arthur shoots up to his feet, ”What?”

“Our- our parents-!” Lewis wheezes, covering his mouth on the other end, “they were betting! They’ve been thinking we’ve been hiding a relationship this whole time-!”

…

Is that why Lance looked guilty when he mentioned the news spreading?

“You’re joking.”

“Arthur, I wish I was. My mother just asked if I was happy in the relationship and if I needed advice on how to- I- I can’t even remember. I was just close to exploding the entire time-“

Lance fucking called Mama pepper and told her, didn’t he?

“A-ah, well- uh- Lance kinda said the same thing? Said we were obviously hiding it.” Lewis cracks up on the other end, and Arthur’s entire body feels like it’s shaking from that same giddiness or excitement or whatever. “Uh… did your mom ask how long we were together..?”

Lewis goes silent, “Uh- I think i said a little under a year.”

”Dude, I told Lance it was a few months.”

“... we can twist the truth some more.”

[avellanas-nutty-empire]

Silent Love Part 1

ahrsncknrkcnd this is my first time posting fanfiction and my second time writing it dont judge. After watching the umbrella academy season 2 i have become obsessed with the swedish triplets smh.

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Pairing: Axel x Irish!OC

Summary: So basicaly  the oc is an irish dancer in her 30′s working at this pub in like spring of 1990, and as she was taking out the trash this lil swedish girl runs to her in the alleyway for help

i have like a whole ass list of plot points thats probably gonna be written in parts so i dont have to deal with writing time skips so much. i literaly just finished writing this like 5 minutes ago so no judging! things will make more sense as i post more parts (i hope at least) plz reblog and/or comment with feedback i have no idea how to write fanfiction BUT I DO IT FOR THE SWEDES

ANYWAYS HERE U GO *shoves writing in ur face and runs away*

EDIT: plz note that when I started writing this, it was an x reader fic but after posting part 5 I decided to change it and here is a link to the post I made explaining why.

Skinny arms struggle to lift the bag into its large container, but once over the rim a small push is all that's needed to get it inside. When the lid closes on the large container, a little girl runs right past and hides behind the trash bin, a pleading look in her eyes as much louder footprints come to a stop behind the two girls. Your red hair flings around as you turn your head to look at the culprit of the child's fear.

“Well well well, aint I lucky yous was here to secure my-”

“You aint welcome here, and you know it Dick.” Daggers shoot out of your eyes at the man standing before you.

“Hey now-” He attempts to continue before you cut him off again.

“Get out of here now before things get ugly. Nothing has to happen” 

“Unfortunately I can't do that, (F/N)-” He takes a step forward

“Don't call me that!” You spit out with fire as he continues getting closer

“All that little brat has to do is answer my question in English-”

“Not everyone speaks-”

“Stop interrupting me, garlic” With a single shove you collapse on the ground next to the small girl, who calls out in swedish. “Shut your trap or I'll make you!” Quickly, you hoist yourself up by your forearms.

“Listen...” Dick says, crouching in front of you. “Keep getting in my way and see where that gets you”

“You’re the one in my way” You quip back.

“The girls safety...” He slowly reaches a hand out towards you. “...is not of your concern, thief” His hand wraps itself around your right ankle as the other one sets down next to your left, his face now inches from your own.

“I’ve stolen nothing you haven't lost yourself” 

“Enough!” Your attacker turns his head back to look at the source of the gruff accented voice to see a tall man with white hair. Next to you, the girls face brightens with relief. 

“Whoah there, mister. We’s was just havin’ a... small disagreement is all” The new man takes a few steps closer. “This young miss here wants to go out and find the girls parents, but I insisted on doin’ it myself since it's not safe for girls at night on there own you see”

“Leave... them... alone” The man says, spacing out his words so it's easier to understand his swedish accent.

“...I can't do that, Mister” Dick says with a small chuckle, reaching for something. As soon as you see the gun, you’re fast to kick the back curved side of his knees, causing him to topple forward to the ground. Quickly, you reach out for the weapon that fell on the ground, but Dick is quicker and lands a strike on your temple, knocking you to the ground again as the small girl shrinks further into her hiding spot behind the big trash container.

In an instant, the swedish man is besides you, picking up Dick by his neck and flinging him with ease away from the three of you. 

“Leave” His accent is thick through the single word, and Dick quickly scrambles up to stand. Through your blurry vision, you see an arm raise and your head thumps while the sound of a gunshot rings throughout the alleyway, rickashaying off the brick wall behind you as the bullet lands close to your face with a harmless clatter.

You close your eyes and place your hands over your ears in an attempt to stop the ringing loud noises; curling up into a ball on the floor, you attempt to calm down your mind and senses from going haywire with adrenaline. How could today get any worse. You think to yourself as small hands place themselves on your arms and shoulders, trying to shake you alert. Eventually, a bigger hand joins in nudging you slightly; at that point you open your eyes to see the white haired man who saved you, kneeling before you with red on his forearm.

“Man... is... gone” He says slowly, offering a hand to pull you up. Reaching out tentatively to grab it, he helps to slowly hoist you up and on your feet again (along with some v cute assistance from the little girl).

“Thank you... so much, Sir. Are you her family?” You ask, brushing dust and dirt off you clothes while looking from her to him. It's then that you fully take notice of the blood slipping down his arm. “Oh dear, that needs to be cleaned up” You say, gesturing to it. “Let's get you both inside and check for injuries” You start moving to walk towards the back door of the pub, but your vision goes blurry for a bit and the man grabs hold of your arm to keep you balanced; together the three of you help each other inside for some medical treatment and bandages.

ajtnekbjs things arent capitalized when they should be just ignore it ill probably fix it later. also i have no idea how to spell so ignore that too. tumblr isnt the best at correct word spell suggestions

[the-dead-skwad]

Lost part 2 X Daryl Dixon X Reader

This is actually way longer than I intended. I was going to to three parts but I finihsed it in this.

Summary: Trouble starts as you’ve found walkers in the barn. Will things ever get better? 

Warnings: Killing walkers, swearing, death, missing children.

Tags: @nikki082489​

The rest of the day was almost a complete blur, everyone arguing on what we should do. Everyone except Shane, Rick and Hershel were stood in front of the house. This wasn't going to get anywhere without Rick.

"Look, I don't think it's safe. But there is a way to go about this." You hadn't said your part yet "I know what I say doesn't really matter but Rick and Hershel aren't here. Shouldn't we at least wait for them." 

"I don't think we got time for that." Daryl spoke to you nodding at Shane charging at the group, gun bag in hand. 

"This has gone on long enough! We are not safe!" He started passing out guns to people. He looked at you "I know you're willing to do what ever it takes." 

"Damn right." You took the shotgun from his hand. You and Daryl looked at each other. Both of you nodded silently agreeing how this was about to go down. 

You all turned to see Rick and Hershel walking across the farm to the barn with walkers on a stick. "No!" Shane yelled as he ran down the field towards them.  

"Oh fuck." You sighed. You ran down the hill as fast as you could. 

You all stood around the barn. Shane was shouting at the top of his lungs. You agreed that this wasn't safe but this was about to get way out of hand. 

"Can a person survive this!" Shane took his gun and shot the walker in Hershel's hands right in the chest. Of course it kept coming. You all knew what they were except Hershel. "How is it still coming!" He shot it again. "How is it still coming!" 

"Shane that's enough!" Rick tried to so hard but with a walker in hand it wasn't easy. 

"You're right it is enough!" Shane shot it in the head making it drop. He marched over to the barn doors and slammed on them with his pistol handle while Rick screamed for him to stop. 

You looked over at Daryl. His face was dead straight, sometimes it was really hard to see how he was feeling. You knew there was enough of you and enough ammo to be OK but it didn't stop you from worrying. 

He pulled on the doors, you could hear the walkers desperate to get out and feast on you all. He shot the lock and pulled the chain. 

The door opened slowly, walkers limping out one by one. You cocked the shot gun and aimed. The kickback was rough but you didn't miss one shot. Rick stood there shouting until Daryl shot the walker he was holding. Lori sat with Carl in her arms. In your opinion she should have taken his else where. The farm rang with gun shots as you all took the walkers down. After it was all over the only thing you could hear was Maggie and Hershel crying and the faint ringing from all the noise. 

Daryl looked at you "You OK?" You were about to answer when a small shuffling from the barn grabbed all your attentions. You raised your gun again. What you saw made your heart stop. Little Sophia, her eyes glazed over and the look on her face was nothing but hunger. Her skin a dark grey, the bite on her neck still pouring with blood. You could hear Carol crying behind you. Daryl ran to stop her from going to her. You wanted to help but your whole body was frozen. 

No one said anything, no one moved. She stumbled towards you. Just before she got a few feet away Rick stepped forward. He held up his gun, tears stinging his eyes. He shot her.

You whole body shook. When something in your brain snapped. "Emily!" You wailed. Your brain was a blur but your legs ran towards the barn doors. Everyone shouted you to stop but you couldn't. 

Running into the barn you looked everywhere. Screaming her name, throwing hay around, thinking maybe she was under it. There was nothing. You fell to your knees in the middle of all the mess, tears pouring from your eyes. All you could say over and over was "Emily." 

After a few minutes a figure walked towards you from the open doors. You couldn't see from the tears. You felt the hay move as he knelt down in front of you. You rubbed your face and looked up.

He looked so defeated. After all this time, all the searching, she was 10 feet away. He placed a hand on your face. "Come on." He helped you to you feet and wrapped a strong arm around you. 

You walked together out of the barn. Most people were still there moving the bodies. Carol sat on the floor crying her heart out. She looked up at you as yo walked past. "I'm so sorry Carol. I'm so sorry." You could hardly look at her. She nodded as a thank you. 

Daryl walked you back to the tent. You were still separate from everyone still but you had moved next to each other. You sat outside your tent and stared at the ground. He didn't say anything just sat next to you. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you in. You rested your head on his shoulder and started to cry again. 

"Hey," He lifted you head to look at him. "She could still be alive." 

"What's the point in hoping? You saw the same thing I did. I honestly thought maybe they had found each other and we would find them hiding somewhere together." You sniffled "Lets face it. She's dead." You stood and walked back into your tent. You lay on the ground and curled up. 

After a few minutes you felt a strong arm wrap around your body. You pulled him in closer and help on tight. 

--

The next morning Daryl rolled over to check on you and the tent was empty. He sat up "Oh fuck." He looked around to see what you had taken. Your boots, knife, gun and water was gone. Normally this was like everyday but he was worried after what had happened. 

He got ready fast and ran across the field to the rest of the camp. "Y/N's gone." "What do you mean she's gone?" Rick asked him.

You and Maggie had gotten close so this of course worried her "She's left or you just can't find her?" 

"I just woke up, her hunting shit is gone." 

"Maybe she just went looking for Emily." 

Daryl looked at Lori, "After what happened yesterday? Don't be stupid." 

"Hey I was just saying." She held her hands up in defense.

He turned to walk away "Yall aint no help. I'll find her myself!" He ran across the farm and diapered into the woods.

At first he was so worried about you he wasn't thinking right, he took a second, calmed down and looked around for your prints. Eventually he found them. Every so often he would find a walker, not just killed but brutally smashed to bits.  

--

You woke that morning earlier than usual. You hadn't gotten a lot of sleep anyway. Rolling over Daryl had his back to you in deep sleep. You stepped over him and gathered your things. When you got out the tent you looked around to check that no one else was awake yet. It was so calm and peaceful. No sound, not even birds. 

You headed over to the woods. You couldn't describe how you felt. It was like you were empty. Ever since she had gone missing you had aching pain, you were dying inside without her. But after the barn your body shut down. You didn't even know why you were in the woods but you were sure you would find out. After roughly 15 minutes of walking you heard a walker a head of you. It had its back to you wandering around aimlessly. 

You approached it silently with your knife in hand. You stabbed it in the head and looked at it of the ground lifeless. A sudden rush of anger washed over you, you stomped as hard as you could on it's head over and over again. You cried, not sure if they were tears of anger, sadness or just grief. 

You now knew why you wanted to go to the woods. 

You ran forward looking for more of them. One after the other you attacked, crushing their heads into the ground. It wasn't making you feel any better but it wasn't making you feel any worse. 

--

Daryl followed the trail of walkers you had left. It was bloody and brutal. The further he walked the more worried he got. 

After a short while he heard a noise up a head. He hid behind a tree looking around carefully to asses the situation. 

It was you. You had roughly three walkers around you all of them grabbing, clawing, just wanting to sink their teeth into. But you had it, swinging you knife around, not missing one blow.

--

After the three walkers were on the ground you stopped for a second. Putting your hands on you knees, you were out of breath. 

You heard a twig break near you, your head snapped up and looked towards the noise, knife ready. You were faced with Daryl. He looked almost scared. 

"Y/N?" 

Blood was splashed across your whole body and guts dripped from your clothes. A tear fell down your cheek as you looked at him. "Help me." You whispered. 

================

It had been a long journey from the farm falling. You spent the first winter running, looking for somewhere to survive. It was hard and exhausting. Finally you found the prison. It looked like somewhere you could live out the days. Grow a farm, settle and be happy. You lost people trying to take it over. Lori died when she gave birth. T-dog sacrificed himself to save Carol. Then Michonne turned up at the fence, telling us all about Maggie and Glenn being kidnapped by the Governor. You rescued them but Daryl got captured and pitted against his brother. Rick saved them only for Daryl to leave. He didn't even say good bye. For days you sat staring at your shared cell room. But he came back. The reunion was ruined by his asshole brother. He tried to hard to pull you two apart .You weren't sure if it was because he didn't like you or he hated to see his brother happy. Merle actually helped the group when he attacked the meeting with The Governor. The Governor even killed his own people and they left him to the walkers on the side of the road. It was difficult and people died but Rick never let you give up and finally The Governor was gone. 

You built the prison up to hold. You went out and saved people. Buses of survivors were found from fallen camps. The place was safe and finally something you could live and start a life in. You would never forget Emily but slowly you learnt to live with the pain. 

Sat in one of the guard towers you looked over the prison yard. A dear Daryl had found that day was cooking nicely making your stomach grumble. "Hey!" His voice came from behind you. 

You turned to smile at him "Hi." 

"Foods ready, you comin?" He walked towards you and stopped just inches from you. 

"Sasha is coming to take me off." 

He licked his lips "So we got a few minutes?"

"Not as long as we need." You bit you lip.

He closed the gap between you and kissed you rough. He pushed you against the rail behind you. The kiss was so passionate, perfect. He broke the kiss for a second "I love you so damn much." 

"I love you too Dixon." You kissed him again. 

"Yanno, I was thinking what if your name was also---" 

"Hey!" Sasha's voice came from below you. "We can all see you yanno! There's kids around." 

You laughed and looked down at her. "Sorry! Food?" 

"Food." She smiled and nodded. 

You turned back to him "Sorry, what were you gonna say?" 

"Get some food, I'll ask you in a bit." 

You walked to the stairs door. "You coming?" He followed behind you. 

Grabbing a plate you both waited for your food to be served to you. After getting your food you both walked back to where everyone sat eating. Still standing you took a bite. "Oh god this is delicious." 

"Almost as delicious as you." 

His comment took you by surprise making you choke a little on the deer. Carol ran to you "Oh my god are you okay?" 

You help your hand up "I'm fine thank you." She passed you some water and went back to her seat. Looking at Daryl you couldn't help but laugh "You are a dirty ass."

"Oh yeah." He got closer to you and licked his fingers. "Wouldn't you like to find out?" He leaned in to kiss you.

You kissed back laughing "You're covered in fucking sauce." 

"Is it working for you?" 

"Pack it in." Laughing again. 

You looked across the yard where the bus was pulling in again. Tyrese stepped out and by the look on his face it was a successful run. Still holding your plate you watched as the people stepped off. They're faces beamed with happiness. Finally these people had hope, a home. The last woman to get off stood by the door for a second. You looked up and Daryl "I wish I could just stand here and watch the people come off the bus every day. Its so--" 

"MOMMY!" A child's voice pulled you from your sentence. 

As you turned it felt like it all went in slow motion. There she was, he hair and grown, dirt covered her face, but that was her. No words came out. You dropped your plate and ran as fast as you could. She leapt into your arms. You both cried to loud. You dropped to the floor with her in your arms. "Oh my god baby." You pulled back and pushed her hair from her face "Is it really you?" 

She cried her eyes out "Mommy, I thought I'd never see you again!" 

"Same baby, but I'm here now. I'm so sorry." You couldn't stop crying "I looked for you for so long." 

You both just sat on the floor holding each other for such a long time. She leaned back and placed her small dirty hands on your cheeks. Daryl came from behind you. "Hey Emily, welcome home." 

She looked up and frowned at him "Aren't you that mean grumpy man?" 

"No baby." You paused "Well not anymore. We are together, you remember Daryl right?" 

"Yeah I do." She looked him up and down "You're not mean anymore?" 

"No I'm not." He smiled at her.

"Good." She looked back at you "Mommy." She said before hugging you tight.  

You stood with her wrapped around you. Carol ran from the tables to you "Oh my god! Emily!" She hugged you both tight. "I can't believe this! Are you hungry?" 

Emily nodded. Carol turned to grab her some food as a woman approached you. "So you're Emily's mom?" 

"Yeah, thank you so much. I can't believe she is ok. Where did you find her?" 

"She was on a high way, she had food and a blanket but I couldn't leave her there alone." 

"On the highway? She was so close that whole time." Another tear fell down your cheek. 

Daryl rubbed your arm to comfort you "She's home now." 

"You're right." You looked back at the woman. "I can't thank you enough. Please grab some food, we have showers, clean clothes and beds." Looking back at Emily who was beaming at you. "And you need food, a good wash and all the cuddles." 

Carol passed you a plate so you sat at a table with Emily and Daryl. You looked around for a second and noticed Rick and Carl walking across the yard. You smiled and waved for them to come over. 

Rick headed towards you, when he realized he froze. He mouthed the words Emily at you. You nodded. Carl practically screamed her name. She spun and round, hopped off her chair and ran to him. 

Daryl held on to you hand, you looked over and smiled at him. He looked between you and Emily for a second and then into your eyes. "Marry me."

"What?" You couldn't believe what you were hearing. 

"Marry me." The second time sounded even more determined than the first. 

"Oh fuck yeah." You leapt out you seat and jumped on him. 

Glenn stood at the side having watched the past 2 minutes unfold "What the hell is going off?"

[punkscowardschampions]

Joe & Ronnie

Joe: Hey

Joe: my flatmate has some work I reckon your mate might be interested in

Joe: but it’ll sound a bit dodgy coming from me so you wanna pass it along?

Joe: moneys alright for no real work, depending on how you look at it

Ronnie: never done any work as a secretary myself

Ronnie: write your own fucking love notes

Joe: I see that

Joe: your accent down the 📞?

Joe: no cunt here’d understand you, never mind the demeanour

Joe: yeah, well, it’d really seem that way

Joe: but I actually need someone to take her off my hands

Ronnie: racism as foreplays playing to the wrong crowd hes more into homo bashing

Ronnie: errr dunno how you read his demeanor mckenna but he aint taken a her off anyones hands since before any of us had phones

Joe: i’ll keep that in mind

Joe: well homophobic of me to not tell him myself so he’s welcome for the freebie

Joe: not actual escorting

Joe: she does art, her life drawing class needs a model

Joe: I ain’t fucking doing that

Joe: tell me I ain’t 📖 him right on that one

Ronnie: fucks sake if youd said it was cash for cock wed be done talking already

Joe: I just did

Joe: sound, she’ll be made up, she’ll get off my case, and he’ll get £15 an hour, apparently 👌

Ronnie: sexist not to ask me

Ronnie: pass that on to your little gf

Joe: weren’t her idea to ask Charlie

Joe: you’ll have to take up that grievance with me as well

Joe: I’ll just point out it’d be even weirder if I’d have asked you

Ronnie: you wish

Ronnie: how much £ you offering me to bang you

Joe: if I did no point paying you to do it for her and her class and not me

Joe: that’s an interesting take on cucking though, loads that would go for it, I’m sure

Ronnie: ill write it down as youve made me go hunting for a pen in this shithole

Joe: cheers

Joe: take 20% commission or whatever

Joe: or take the IOU I owe him for doing this

Ronnie: you said it hed do this for fuck all ill take the lot and mary wont know it was a paid gig

Joe: if he can fend the flatmate off, undoubtedly a load of art gays he can have his pick of

Ronnie: that what youre telling yourself for why you dont want me to do it yeah

Joe: you wanna do it?

Ronnie: i want you to admit the reason you dont want me to is cause he scrubs up enough for horse girl and her course mates not to stage an intervention

Joe: not what it is so no

Joe: I know I don’t want to get my shit out in front of a load of middle class kids who know fuck all about fuck all, so I assumed as much for you

Ronnie: dont ever assume fuck all for or about me

Joe: why do you wanna do it so bad when like you said, you can pocket the cash and get him to?

Ronnie: i dont wanna fucking do it

Joe: well that’s grand ‘cos I reckon Sophie wants to see dick so

Joe: she’d be really let down

Ronnie: usually what gets you off

Ronnie: but im made up youre in love now like

Joe: please, she either don’t get it’s weird to ask me which means she’s some kind of special

Joe: or this is the start of her 50 shades fantasy and I have to be the let down to end all let downs and i’m already doing my best

Ronnie: rem is right to pay for it when she could just walk in on you taking a piss or having a shower

Joe: when you’re just a creep and not a predator 💔

Joe: not the girl my parents warned me about

Ronnie: if theyd be the type to go down the stables theyd have seen the other side of her

Joe: you’ve got your own daydreams, alright

Joe: put out the feelers, who isn’t a little gay these days, right

Ronnie: go ed and pass on ive got a bigger dick than him and she will have

Ronnie: i dont dream 💔

Joe: shame she isn’t equally inspiring for you

Joe: or anyone, really

Ronnie: cry about it with him when youre done pimping

Joe: what do you dream about then, when you’re awake

Ronnie: what you cant read me

Joe: clearly not

Joe: dashed your modelling dreams

Ronnie: blind and not able to read braille must be dead hard for you

Joe: is that sympathy?

Joe: or you offering me 🖐 to 👩🏼‍🦲 time

Ronnie: again you wish

Ronnie: 💭💉

Ronnie: cant make it any easier to understand soz

Joe: maybe I do

Joe: far as 💭s go

Ronnie: fuck maybe you do or you dont

Joe: well it ain’t why I don’t want to get my arms out for her

Joe: not tried it

Joe: but not a no

Ronnie: give a shit what you do or dont want to do for or to her

Joe: that is a no, tah

Ronnie: tell her not me baby

Joe: that’s not a big sister duty?

Joe: gutted

Ronnie: wouldnt know im the middle kid dorothy does that for us

Joe: i’ll ask him when i’m crying on him then

Joe: make a change for me

Ronnie: hot

Ronnie: rack up the ious like a fat line hes gonna be made up

Joe: oi he’s like family ain’t he

Ronnie: &

Ronnie: you wanna fuck your mam

Ronnie: not oi ing you

Joe: well you get to think about me and him, you gave me her and you, not fair

Ronnie: life aint soft lad

Ronnie: and stopping at thinking about shit is the difference between me and you

Joe: I get it, you’ve gone there

Joe: purely here for the homophobia

Ronnie: your kinks match 💘

Ronnie: purely there so the lads dont kick off before hes got his kicks

Joe: see, you’ve got it in you 💘

Joe: the sisterly thing

Joe: my hate don’t get expressed by putting me in him though so I won’t run my mouth

Ronnie: not what ive got in me but im not giving you the talk just cause your ma didnt

Joe: you want a virgin to defile reckon Soph and her mates are prime, vampira

Ronnie: set it up with her ill show if i get no better offers

Joe: lucky girl

Joe: no more nights in doing doodles of cute girls that look like you

Ronnie: we dont look alike youll have to accept theyre of you

Joe: i fit less than you, by far

Ronnie: fuck off

Joe: sorry

Joe: it’s weird, say the least

Ronnie: i fit nowhere she made sure i dont

Joe: ditto

Joe: so buzzing i can write shit songs about it though

Ronnie: no

Ronnie: weve got fuck all in common

Joe: just the same mother

Joe: who put her shitty genetics and choices on us both at different times

Ronnie: i ain’t got a mother you cant cross out the un from wanted and act like its the same word

Joe: incubator then

Joe: she was 19 and still fucked, don’t think they had a five-year plan down

Joe: worse if she did, the state of

Ronnie: she made 1 choice for me shes still controlling you

Ronnie: were not the fucking same

Joe: you reckon

Ronnie: if you wanna claim it aint her fault youre this big of a pussy try it

Joe: you don’t think it’s my fault?

Joe: woah, just say you love me

Ronnie: i dont think about you when you aint trying to compare us

Joe: hot

Joe: I’ve thought about you plenty

Joe: uni ain’t that interesting

Ronnie: you came looking for me werent the other way round

Ronnie: you ain’t interesting to me mckenna

Joe: you reckon you’re fascinating, yeah?

Joe: fair enough

Ronnie: if your flatmate knows anyone doing doc film making they can wank over me lying in the gutter when youre done

Joe: nah

Joe: you don’t want control of your narrative

Ronnie: i dont want a narrative

Joe: then i’ll be the only wanker

Ronnie: in your dreams

Joe: well you painted such a lovely visual

Ronnie: black screen would get you going can stay in your own fucked head with no interference then like

Joe: Static is my kink

Joe: you know me so well

Ronnie: your fucking kink is not shutting the hell up til i do

Joe: i’m a gentleman

Joe: and i’m taking that review

Ronnie: youll get a lengthy one from my big brother when you are

Joe: you don’t have to settle for hearing it and getting your kicks second-hand

Joe: I’ll have to be somewhere to be unavailable for this life drawing class

Joe: let’s do something

Ronnie: what you paying me to babysit

Joe: you can ask my mammy or you can see what you can get

Ronnie: if i was gonna talk to her it wouldnt be about you

Joe: thank god

Joe: so take the risk

Ronnie: of what

Ronnie: boring me is asking too much of you

Joe: that’s surely a given

Joe: risk anything but

Ronnie: if I need rescuing again ill call you thats the only given Joe: you’re worse than her

Joe: christian grey or superman, like

Joe: gonna be BFFs yous, I can tell

Ronnie: you dont like being compared to cunts youre nothing like either funny that

Joe: touche

Joe: come on, what would convince you

Ronnie: if youre gonna beg then beg and if youre gonna show me something do it

Joe: I know you’d like to hear me beg but I can’t tell what you’d wanna see

Ronnie: then the answers nothing

Joe: nah

Joe: the answers you want to wait or you wanna be disappointed

Ronnie: why the fuck would I want either of those things

Joe: that’s what I’ll give you then

Joe: the opposite of that

Ronnie: thats meant to convince me yeah

Joe: nah, I am

Ronnie: like fuck will you

Joe: see, you want to be disappointed

Ronnie: ill be disappointed want has fuck all to do with it

Joe: if you don’t come and see

Ronnie: come where

Joe: see me

Joe: i’m new in town, I don’t know where to go

Joe: fuck sightseeing

Ronnie: [somewhere she’d hang out]

Ronnie: go there

Joe: now?

Ronnie: whenever you dont know where to go

Joe: okay

Joe: and I’ll see you there when you don’t

Ronnie: when im not fucking either of our flatmates

Joe: when you’re done being disappointed

Ronnie: when you prove yourself as not

Joe: you’ll see

Joe: I can’t show you over the phone

Ronnie: you could

Ronnie: im going nowhere on a bullshit promise cause im not a meff teenager

Joe: and I ain’t young enough to think that’s a good idea either

Joe: pictures not doing no favours

Joe: if you’re there and i’m there

Ronnie: big if

Joe: I never know where to be

Ronnie: newborn i heard you

Joe: something like that

Joe: if you can’t leave soph alone I’ll do my best begging 🥺

Ronnie: she cant leave you alone id be doing you a favour

Joe: true

Joe: wouldn’t wanna be caught doing that though

Ronnie: let you do the clean up after ive killed and ate her id be caught well fast for that instead

Joe: you’d get caught for being three times your size

Joe: she’s a big girl

Joe: you should share, be sworn to secrecy

Ronnie: doing her a favour i shouldve said

Ronnie: fuck all going for her

Joe: way to get in shape

Joe: she’ll appreciate us using her blood for something artsy on the walls

Ronnie: ill ask the basic white bitch i live with to give me a clue

Joe: 🍆 will be appropriate for her

Ronnie: 🐎

Joe: they might reckon she did it with her dying breath

Joe: very artist of her, dying how she lived

Ronnie: hurry the fuck up with your confession song if you want credit

Joe: you wanna hear me confessing so bad

Joe: but I might be able to hand that in so

Joe: hold on

Ronnie: it aint me whos a choir boy

Joe: ugh, I wish

Ronnie: cant chat shit about us having the same fantasies ive been touched by a old bloke wearing a dress and i dont rate it

Ronnie: standard surrounded by homos night out

Joe: yeah, and the nuns are never the hot kind

Joe: if they didn’t self-flagellate they’d be entirely uninteresting

Ronnie: 💔

Joe: yeah, it’s tragic being this bored/boring, say it ‘fore you have to bother

Ronnie: didnt invite you to no pity party and if thats where youre trying to get me to turn up to dont bother is right

Joe: you mean you don’t wanna talk about your feelings?

Joe: like you said, like being left alone with my own fucked up ones too much to try and start a therapy session

Ronnie: what fucking feelings dead above & below the waist like

Joe: dangerously close to sharing there

Joe: you got your 💉 already then?

Ronnie: wouldnt be this chatty if i had

Ronnie: unlucky you

Joe: I’m the one that wants to see you

Joe: so I’ll cope

Ronnie: cant even spell martyrdom proper so youve fucked yourself looking for a pat on the back off me by matching the definition up

Joe: i’ll just ring mum up yeah

Ronnie: your da if not but it wont have the same satisfying end for you like

Joe: 💔

Joe: validations the last thing i need

Joe: had a whole lifetime

Ronnie: you crawling back to me with a boner for the accent your mummys losing is the last thing i need

Ronnie: get on the scouse samaritans

Joe: don’t reckon that’s a job you’ll get any time soon either

Joe: ‘less the purpose is to make sure people go through with it

Ronnie: couldve fooled me if it aint what else is talking a sad cunts ear off about their problems gonna do

Joe: attention seekers anonymous

Ronnie: no need to meet you there i earned all them badges as a kid 🧷🩸

Joe: wouldn’t be caught 💀 obvs

Joe: keeping it secret adds another level of masochism anyway

Ronnie: does it fuck

Ronnie: keeps you feeling like a smug bitch you can still pass

Ronnie: miss me with that pussy shit

Joe: nah, that’s that i’m in control shit

Joe: it’s not that

Joe: the only thing you might be smug about is how oblivious everyone chooses to be

Joe: if it weren’t also depressing as fuck

Ronnie: dont give em the choice

Joe: why?

Ronnie: why the fuck would you want to

Joe: don’t need to be my mother’s next cause celebre

Joe: she can force the therapy and concern on any of the others, I don’t wanna get better or have to fake like I’ll even try

Ronnie: then dont

Ronnie: cut off your umbilical cord and wipe up the blood trail

Ronnie: not like she tries very hard to herd back the black sheep

Joe: maybe they know and don’t give a fuck 🤞

Joe: I know I ain’t going back so whatever

Ronnie: & you reckon weve got anything in common

Joe: just 50% of our DNA

Joe: never said we were twinsies

Ronnie: if youd have said id have spat in your face 1st time we met get it collected and the tests run

Joe: I wish

Joe: has your face healed

Ronnie: wheres the fun in letting it do that

Joe: 😏

Joe: we can pretend that’s inherited if you need

Ronnie: not 5 i dont play pretend

Joe: if you keep digging, reckon the ink will be gone and it’ll be pure scar tissue

Ronnie: calm the fuck down i can hear how turned on you are about it from here

Joe: spoilsport

Joe: just thinking, scar that only vaguely looks like 🍒s might be well more rugged for my transformation from baby to independent real boy

Ronnie: laughing cos i like pain not cause youre funny

Ronnie: when you see or hear it from wherever youre lurking

Joe: you don’t leave room for me to get the wrong idea, you’re alright

Joe: all them fucked ones are mine alone and already there

Ronnie: get your girlfriend to draw you a pin up & dont tell her youve changed the lass horse head to look like your mas

Ronnie: masc for masc in your bio before you know it and 🦋 tramp stamp to follow

Joe: you know my dad already has a tattoo that looks like her, no bullshit

Joe: and another dead girl on the other arm but that’s a whole other boring story

Joe: playing dress up is off the cards too if I’m ever gonna be a big boy

Ronnie: where do you keep his severed arm when youre not using it to fist yourself and how old were you when you cut it off

Ronnie: if we re telling stories

Joe: 😂

Joe: where we keep the horse

Joe: that en-suite is massive

Ronnie: if he finds out it was a paid gig ill know where to crash

Joe: still gutted she don’t wanna see you naked

Ronnie: youre a liar if you dont wanna see her face seeing me

Joe: don’t know if anyone could be bothered to look at her when you’re about but yeah

Joe: the trauma would really fuel me and make her much more bearable to live with

Ronnie: youre welcome like

Joe: gotta stop being nice to me

Joe: you know stalkers, give ‘em an inch

Ronnie: telling me what to do is the fastest way 🖕

Ronnie: and i know you dont have an inch to give me making the best of this shitshow is what an optimist like me has gotta do

Joe: obviously you’re that type

Joe: not having it in common will have you back 👍

Joe: you’re inspiring, like

Ronnie: chop off my arms and legs and get a camera set up in the en-suite

Joe: you’d fit in my cello case then, could take you everywhere

Ronnie: course youve had a measuring tape out

Joe: hate to kill your optimism with 🍆

Joe: have a go at pushing it back in

Ronnie: how longs your tongue reckon that could kill any girls optimism

Joe: 💔 if it was only good for chatting your ear off

Ronnie: [send him a picture of your weird gross split tongue because obviously]

Joe: [how does that not make you lisp, or does it, I always think that]

Joe: that’s why you’ve not had an invite

Joe: 🚫🐍

Ronnie: gutted

Joe: you know you can show up and do whatever you wanna do whenever

Joe: I’ll take you back

Ronnie: this performance art is meant to what just scare her or teach you how to get her to back the fuck off as well as

Ronnie: im not a fucking tour guide mckenna & you can get yourself evicted without my help

Joe: you know I meant to Dublin

Joe: don’t think it’d take much to scare Sophie off, give it a month for us to both get comfortable and she’ll see what I ain’t

Ronnie: fuck you

Joe: I said if you want

Ronnie: dont need your permission to do anything i want

Joe: don’t think any of ‘em are that lax with their socials

Joe: you’d need directions

Ronnie: ive had years to find em & we dont both hang about with horse girls from kent

Joe: can’t say it’s your loss

Ronnie: shut up about it then

Joe: 🤐

Ronnie: 🖕

Joe: got a whole fist here, you can keep it

Ronnie: sizeist

Joe: told her yours is massive like you said, it’s fine

Ronnie: i said bigger than his not a horse shes in for a disappointment

Joe: gotta 🤞 she’s an optimist like you babe

Ronnie: unlike you shes gonna wait to see what i do with it before telling me to shove it

Joe: you just wanna blueball me for the pain

Joe: go on, for your lols

Ronnie: she wont want me at all unless youre gonna watch

Joe: and you need a witness so I get time too

Joe: I’ll do it, torturous as it’d be

Ronnie: the iou is gonna torture me too

Joe: if you’re lucky

Ronnie: not the dna half we share 💔

Joe: damnit

Joe: what’s good about being Scouse?

Ronnie: now the beatles are dead youve got fuck all to live for

Ronnie: noted

Joe: only the good ones

Joe: I dunno, anything good about it never happened, left when I was a kid and we still lived in a shithole with shitheads

Ronnie: get in line she left me in a shithole with shitheads 1st

Joe: where were you

Joe: wonder how close it was

Ronnie: what the fuck does it matter

Joe: it makes her more/less shitty depending

Ronnie: it aint gonna change my opinion and I dont give a shit about yours

Joe: fair enough

Ronnie: get cosy with charlie hed take you down memory lane

Joe: not before he’s got it out for the art class tah

Ronnie: you didnt say when

Joe: [probably an evening class like tomorrow or the next day, then the same time a week later]

Ronnie: too fucking late the pen is in pieces

Joe: sure it isn’t the first time you’ve left him a note in blood

Ronnie: hes only gonna cry about it & take the shine off his modelling debut

Joe: awh

Joe: message him 🧓🏼

Ronnie: fuck off calling me old

Joe: 😏

Ronnie: ill write him a note blaming what a twat you are for what hes gonna walk in on

Joe: what mess have you made

Ronnie: havent killed myself yet

Joe: and you’ve not stopped talking so no OD’ing

Joe: possibilities are endless still

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: come out

Joe: we can get new ink to dig out

Joe: whatever

Ronnie: you gonna suck his dick this time

Joe: I’ll just pay the old-fashioned way

Ronnie: flashy cunt

Joe: what being a student is all about

Ronnie: and youre too special to poison your blood how the rest of em do

Joe: I’m not opposed but I can do it alone, I don’t need to go to a sweaty student bar that plays shit songs and has a load of sad Soph clones giving it 🥺

Ronnie: you can get another tattoo without me holding your hand

Joe: I could

Ronnie: go do it 🦋 baby

Joe: have mentioned its not about the tat, yeah?

Ronnie: nah not that ive heard

Joe: come on

Joe: i want to see you, i’ve said loads

Ronnie: youve said loads of shit yeah

Joe: shit i mean

Ronnie: why

Joe: why wouldn’t I

Ronnie: thats your answer then fuck it

Joe: you don’t need to ask ‘cos you know

Ronnie: i did ask and you said why the fuck not

Ronnie: like its nothing

Ronnie: like you didnt turn up uninvited into my life not long ago

Joe: then tell me to leave

Joe: like it’s that easy

Ronnie: i didnt tell you to fucking appear

Ronnie: just cause youre a kid dont make me the dead fish you won at the fair

Joe: I never had the choice

Joe: she told me about you, talked about you all the fucking time

Joe: you’ve always been in my life

Ronnie: and youve never been in mine

Ronnie: im not gonna carve out a place for you now cos you want it

Joe: Alright

Joe: do it then

Ronnie: dont tell me what to fucking do

Joe: I’m not going unless you say it

Ronnie: no shit this is fun for you

Joe: like fuck it is

Ronnie: im the car wreck youre craning your neck to keep looking at

Ronnie: thats all the fuck this is

Joe: lie better

Ronnie: you dont care about me or what this feels like

Joe: I can’t take it back, you know now

Ronnie: you dont wanna take it back

Joe: I can’t, what’s the point pretending

Joe: I never said I was a good person

Joe: being sorry won’t change anything for you

Ronnie: its all your christmases & birthdays im west as this course youre gonna keep on spinning me out

Joe: Piss off

Ronnie: lie better cunt

Joe: So you’re allowed pity parties, yeah?

Joe: 👌

Ronnie: calling you out on your bullshit is allowed if youre crying thats your problem

Joe: if all you want from me is for me to go away, consider it done

Joe: you can’t hack it, my apologies

Ronnie: tell me why if im so fucking wrong

Joe: I like you

Joe: I want you, to get to know you

Joe: I can’t just stop it, not for myself

Joe: So make me

Ronnie: stop telling me what to fucking do

Ronnie: fucks sake

Joe: you ain’t saying anything

Joe: what do you want

Ronnie: I dont want you to like me

Ronnie: fuck is that

Joe: yeah, it’s obvious you go to great lengths to be unlikeable

Joe: not going to tell no one am I

Ronnie: so hate me soft lad

Joe: I’ll give it a go

Ronnie: ill make you

Joe: give it a go then

Ronnie: where are you then

Joe: [give a location of somewhere near your flat ‘cos don’t need to actually set you on the flatmate rn and that’s likely where you were]

Ronnie: [obviously we’re just gonna show up however long that takes us without another word like !?]

Joe: [just so much eye contact ‘cos what you gonna say what you gonna do]

Ronnie: [definitely gonna take him somewhere sketchy as hell to the level that like Charlie doesn’t know we still go there/we’d never take him ever like you wanna get to know me okay bitch buckle up]

Joe: [can’t let you hook up or shoot up yet ‘cos chronological but go along with this obvs]

Ronnie: [it would make sense if you made out/almost hooked up though because the vibe for the next convo was very much oh fuck what are you doing here we didn’t mean to run each other like this but also v flirty]

Joe: [agreed, and allowed, it’s the obvious vibe but any untold drama can happen to stop you in whatever dodgy place so makes sense]

Ronnie: [literally and just because you can’t shoot up together yet does not mean either of you have to be in any way sober so]

Joe: [hundo, we’re not saying he’s never done a drug lol, he clearly abuses his prescription as is so like, there’s plenty to be done without going there]

Ronnie: [and if we wanted to we could say that you watch her do it here and now before you do it together anyway because you’d both get a weird kick out of that]

Joe: [tea, bet you did not see this coming for your uni experience lmao]

Ronnie: [meanwhile she’s old enough to have left, do you wanna grow up babe? No? okay]

Joe: [the way you’re rolling with this, we know you’re fucked boy but pop off]

Ronnie: [I can’t overstate how much she’d be doing the absolute most to try and scare him away like I dare you to go back on what you said]

Joe: [we know you’re not gonna, soz babe, is very rude how he’s just waltzed in but truly did not say we were a good person lol]

Ronnie: [we know she’s not either and also is here for it more than she will ever express until we’re literally years into this]

Joe: [hi your mother’s daughter, but no, you actually have a reason this is messed up but we’re into it from the off and not pretending, risky af strategy boy]

Ronnie: [is there anything we wanna say happens that has lasting-ish consequences other than the make out/ almost hook up ie a tattoo or a fight with injury potential or an arrest lol]

Joe: [hmm, the possibilities, maybe a fight to show you can, could be about anything, it’s that sort of place]

Ronnie: [that is such a mood I love it and yeah could literally be you’re a new face or could be her fault because of the aforementioned doing the most]

Joe: [totally, and that’ll be an easy way to separate you and not meet until the next convo]

Ronnie: [exactly dr phil]

[nobody-knose--archive]

well, today i figured i didn’t have anything better to do & liveblogged the pingry ep. it’s probably a better stepping stone further into the tally void than incomplete demos, coming right off of complete demos, at least.

-from what i know this one basically includes all the mmmm songs that weren't on complete demos (andrew singing ones wahoo) & the expected demos that didn't end up anywhere else + just a friend. i also believe this one was recorded similarly to complete demos so i really have no clue what to expect for taken for a ride's vocals. anyway here i go

-the bidding sounds impressively professional to start things off, but i suppose humming isn't a terribly complex technique anyway. the intro feels a little longer th

-whoah there if that aint a marked difference in audio quality here we go

-guitars also sound different & i don't remember if this album has steve or ross on it i now realize

-goodness the mixing is wonky for rob's segment. the backing vocals do not need to bounce between channels

-why do they have kinda weird voices for the chorus. sounds like they're trying an accent or something. i can barely recognize who's singing

-the keyboard backing in zubin's segment sounds the same as usual, as in, it sounds so stupidly similar to the questions answered backing music that i'm offended i couldn't pick up they're the same for so long

-less echo on disappear actually. at least they still had the brass section

-still a weird sound on the chorus but maybe i can chalk that up to different mixing & more red

-outro sounds not super different. still very good drumming on display which will give me the push i need to decide it's ross drumming

-however i don't hear him shouting out the auctioneer stuff, and given that it was presented as a video during the mmmm recording, i might assume it was done specially for the mmmm releases, so maybe he didn't drum for this album after all

-it does have a greater similarity to the live performances even if the keyboarding is using a different synth

-well now. that's a real piano

-and as any piano will be when played that low, it's out of tune. very

-and everyone's singing? i can't hear andy in the slightest. this is interesting

-i mean i can certainly hear him doing plenty on the piano. but. it's interesting

-i suppose given the ep's hallmanac description, as a compilation of acoustic/one-take recordings i shouldn't be surprised taken for a ride is this different. but boy is it jarring. sounds incredibly different without the heavy synthesizing and complementary instruments

-barebones certainly. not much more of a way to describe it. that's what i expected just not in this way. i like the sound of this bridge though

-do very much wish i could hear andrew's actual voice. even at acoustic live performances he would sing at the very least. then again, that was years later i suppose.

-and it's only now at the final chorus that i realize, somehow, this is a piano-only song. no guitar, no drums even. that's really interesting. even the album version had some drums & bass

-red's singing isn't as impressive here. not as many high notes. understandable. bitch

-different rhythm on the quick part! bet steve feels lucky he didn't have to drum this part although i am hearing some sort of. pants-slapping? now that would be a sight to behold irl

-and that's the end

-goodness. be born. considering how this song was always & every time performed acoustic live i really expect to hear nothing here i haven't from concert recordings

-we're missing whatever the hell that skittery little shaker is called. alas i am not a percussionist & do not know the name of every auxilliary instrument ever

-rippin it up on the melodica bay be. a suitable replacement for whistling considering that never was all that good live. nobody can compare to bora karaca at whistling

-there's extra bass harmonies on display here. swell

-also no percussion i'm realizing

-da-da-da!

-but yeah normally ross uses brushes on a box/seat drum (also don't know what that's called!) for some good gentle percussion & it's not here. really hoping this won't be a trend because i'm fond of drumming even if it's from stebev himself

-bah (chorus) bah

-wait a minute that's not a bah! that's a doo! big difference! what are you doing rob

-i can tell it's one-take because rob has to take a breath in the middle of that final long bah there

-ooh dropping off the guitar there real quick are you? and not even doing the full outro too. good way to spice things up at the end.

-honestly maybe the reason i & so many other th fans dislike be born so much isn't even the country sound and weird subject matter, it's the fact that this song lacks a whole lot of the variability that might separate it from other music. in the album versions there are violins/fiddles, and the live versions... don't have that. maybe some halfway decent whistling at best. it just is what it is. especially compared to the rest of mmmm- g&e could often be more faithfully recreated on stage, but mmmm got to mix things up most of the time, except for be born. food for thought

-anyway. of all the songs i would expect to be absolutely completely identical (other than be born) the whole world and you definitely takes the cake. a delightful song. i should listen to it more.

-but yeah it was a toy orchestra piece long before a tally hall piece, and toy orchestra was & is nothing but silly little live performances. how on earth could they make this one completely different

-other than. the "punk rehearsal" i've heard of from incomplete demos. that's just. a thing i think

-oh hold on i didn't even listen to the end of be born there was a tiny outro with chat at the end oh that's adorable

-hey i can hear andrew's voice! nice!

-starting off with a full ensemble vocals, all sorts of harmonies in action, and a normal piano instead of a toy piano, so already i'm being proven decently wrong on this song's inability to be greatly altered

-other than that. i kinda like how it sounds as if they're stumbling over their words at points

-boy has andrew's voice changed hasn't it. i know i haven't listened to the solo albums so i'm not exactly one to speak but he really developed his singing a lot over time

-clapping live & not in a studio sure sounds a lot worse, especially when it's like 4 people max doing it and not a whole crowd

-zubin (i'm pretty sure) flexing on us all at the end there. good for him

-ayyyyyyy

-it's the song that's sure to invoke an emotional response out of me >:}

-it's also the song i was convinced had andrew vocals in the background (the badadum's between verses) for a good while. still not 100% certain it's rob instead but it's not like i can ask them themselves

-yeah i'll admit it right here this is the song i listen to when i'm going through emotional turmoil. not this version of the song, and no, i don't mean i listen to i'm gonna win or even the tally hall rock version of this one. i mean i listen to the cover of it from we think we're playing in a band. and that's enough on this subject!

-however given the above information yeah i am pretty familiar with this song already. not a new experience right here

-i greatly appreciate the heavy piano work. it's one of my favorite parts about the song

-oh and i should stop talking about that subject right there as well. actually i think i should just say nothing about this song in general. you'll see why in about uhh pauses video

-this friday or so? damn that's sooner than i thought lucky me

-everything will be fine! i'll be making it through!

-oh hello there. "ALBUM" is not a word beamed directly into my brain with great volume thank you very much

-so. it's the outro to good day done with weird haste. looping. no actual chord pro-

-this is. is this some sort of radio performance? what the hell is going on

-steven!!! hello there thanks for the confirmation & god is it surreal to hear his name truly uttered in the context of red rob zubin andrew. wow

-pingry school spring fling. how the hell have i never heard about whatever the hell this track is before

-wait- is it over? song listed as good day but it's in fact the outro to good day done on. a radio program maybe. and now it's a really strange sounding performance of yearbook

-i genuinely can't tell if there's a filter on rob's voice or if the micro- shit that's loud

-what in the hell is going on is this another radio performance or something? like ok yearbook at least was on songs about girls by listedblack but i really want this to be made clear soon

-all i really think i need to know about yearbook is that it's another rob "heterophobic homophonic" cantor angsty boy band song and. listening to it for the first time her. that impression sure isn't going away

-at least i get to hear andrew twinkling those ivories in the back. got a good sound. even if the mixing here is all sorts of wack. a song this complex should not be performed live with only like one microphone

-alright rob i get it you were in love with a girl- and it's over? ok

-live performance of just a friend holy shit hell yes hell yes hell yes for some reason i thought this would be the studio version but no

-i cannot imagine what this song will sound like with steve on the drums hell yes oh will there be banter will rob forget his lines will red say some random 4-syllable phrase will zubin be the best singer in the whole damn band give me an answer now

-already hearing some banter :}

-they're moving weirdly fast and andrew's already got the piano playing even in the beatboxing part. wowie

-ooh kick it andy do those riffs hell yeah

-"that sounded fishy... zubin sedghi!" i'm in love

-KICK IT ANDY

-AND ZUBIN

-and there's the drums! go stevie. go stevie

-good ness andrew just will not let up on the sick as hell keyboarding will he fukc yeah bro kill it

-rob sounds unbelievably tired for this i'm half expecting him to trip up the lyrics at any moment

-"i don't buy it" "don't gimmie that!" you say it boys. oh classic zubin line right there preserved on an official tally hall recording for all eternity, what a treasure this is

-hm isn't this a bit early to go into the pseudo-breakdown chorus? no it works. andrew still rippin it up of course

-and there's the tambourine bay be!

-buildup to the "oh snap" isn't as intense as it could get in later performances which i will gladly blame in its entirety on steve <3

-boy oh boy does rob's voice just sound generally different here. so young so so young

-shooby-doo-wah. well i had low expectations which were not quite fulfilled but it's technically more than what we got on the studio recording so. i won't complain

-THERE IT IS

-BARBEQUE SAUCE BAY BE

-what a fool i was to pause the moment he said it. silly old me <3

-no, no, thank you for coming! but hold on one second. is there not... one more track? technically not a song, technically something i think i've heard before, but if i take a step over to the tally archive...

-cell phone call.

-circus you say? if i had to guess it's the whole world & you given the 08 version of the song but that's a vague guess. can't think of anything better but my current answer isn't that good on its own

-ah! it's joey jo joseph. this wouldn't happen to be that phone call spoken of that, like, invited joe into the band in the first place, would it? i remember that story from an old bio or something, but it doesn't seem like the type of thing that'd be recorded & put on an album. hard to say

-pj? like a certain rob cator frat dude voice JP!?

-well well well now. i'm not sure what to say. i don't recognize that song they're playing as the outro. it could either be some vague listedblack or miscellaneous early tally hall song lost to the void or a demo. i wouldn't exactly know. anyway that ends the pingry ep. shorter than i thought it be, lucky old me. hope you enjoyed!

[modestlyabsurd]

Survival Pt. 3 (Loki x Reader)

So far, a few things have been discovered through your Asgardian-Jötun defense training: for one, Loki is literally a soldier. Well actually, a warrior. He's a goddamn fighting machine. For some odd reason that has never crossed your mind. With the privilege of guns and bows and knives, exactly how skilled he is in hand-to-hand combat has never really come into play.

The second thing you've learned is just how unskilled you are in hand-to-hand combat.

It's embarrassing when you think about it. Of course, thinking about it is what got you knocked down with a blade to your throat probably eight out of ten times. Oh yeah, Loki wasn't fucking around. He showed you a few things. Without any weapons, you're shit.

You shudder to think what you'd be without him. Dead? No, probably worse. In a lot of ways.

He lay, after finally giving in to slumber a few hours ago, under a pink mildewy comforter on the mattress. He'd trained you all night and well into the morning. Gone was the bright springy sun from yesterday, and in its place was a grayish blue sky covered in fish-scale clouds. That's always a sign of a cold front, but damn, how could it get any colder? Surely some sort of solar collapse would take place if it did. Regardless, that meant problems.

The physical training had not been the best thing for Loki to do. He won't admit it because he's as stubborn as a jackass. But he's hungry.

Despite feeling the effects of not sleeping much after taking the Advil, you got up at daybreak when the light came in the kitchen window and reviewed your stocks. You already know it's bad but that doesn't matter; Loki's gonna eat today even if you have to force feed him.

Not that you could possibly restrain him long enough to do so. Not that you could restrain him at all ... God, you're sore from training with a famished person. It was nice, though.

Loki had already replaced the food into your backpacks, but he left the notepad open on the counter with them. At first you struggle to read his ridiculously pretty, loopy cursive handwriting. It's prettier than your grandma's.

18.2.2020

x1 tinned pineapple

x2 tinned tuna fish (cat food)

x1 handisnacks cheese and crackers (what?)

x1 smashed cereal bar

a bit of peanut butter.

We MUST find more.

~L

"Well no shit, Sherlock," you mumble.

The logical option is obvious. You dig into your backpack and find the cans of tuna, as Loki begins to stir in his sleep. Green eyes shine from across the room and long arms emerge from the blanket like butterfly wings. You can't help but grin a little.

He groans upon seeing you. "Good morning."

"Morning. Nice hair."

"Mm, yes. The morning after look suits you nicely as well," he murmurs. Damn your burning face.

"You wish."

Loki sits upright and slowly stands up, looking around the heart of this small house. As if it didn't look bad enough, it became sparring grounds last night. Everything was fine - until he decided to reverse the roles and let you practice a bit. Scattered glass from broken artwork, a dented kitchen cabinet, and now one of the floor boards is bowing up. Loki smiles, remembering that last take-down of yours and feeling something come loose beneath him.

You'd thought you broke one of his bones, and he let you think it. His muscles cramping from laughter and nearly getting punched in the face established the end of your first training session.

The floors creak even louder now as he approaches you by the kitchen sink. He places a hand on your shoulder with pride. "You did well last night."

You scoff, "Tell that to my ass that got kicked."

"Don't be too hard on yourself," he encouraged, his voice not fully awake. "I'm no easy teacher. But you learn quickly. You just need a bit of patience, grasshopper." He booped your nose.

"Yeah, whatever," you try not to smile. "Oh, by the way, this is not cat food. It's real tuna and you're gonna eat it."

Loki visibly gets on the defense. "Are you ordering me?"

You notice the jab but remain composed. "Yeah, Mr. Prince of Asgard, I am."

"And if I refuse?"

"Don't worry, I have a plan."

He shrugs. "I'm not hungry."

"Yes, you are! Would you stop lying?!" the slam of the can rings through the walls and makes Loki jump.

"I don't need - "

"What did we agree on?" you demand.

He purses his lips solemnly. "No lies. No lies between us."

"And you've been lying about this for a minute."

"I haven't!" he hisses. "I don't know what you're so worried about but it's senseless! I can take care of myself, my body is not the same as yours - I'm not human!" The harshness of his eyes, so literally and figuratively transparent, along with the gauntness of his cheeks unnerved a distant part of your mind.

"I think you're the one that's worried."

His slightly agape mouth sighs and his eyes blink in disbelief. The harshness melts away. He looks anywhere but in your face. You're so bloody perceptive. Normally it's quite helpful, and it's one of the things he likes about you. But not when you read him like a cheap, paperback novel.

"Loki, I don't wanna be mad. I don't want us to yell and scream at each other. Just ... be a good cat and eat the fucking tuna." You slide the can over to him, "For me."

He picks up the can with pale, deft fingers, looking it over deep in his thoughts. The only other person who knew him so well was Frigga. His hidden feelings. The right things to say. The code to crack his walls. How, especially in such a tumultuous world, does someone else know the same things? A human nonetheless. Of course, he knows if he thought about it too much he'd eventually figure out the answer.

He's not sure he wants to know the answer. At least for now. Maybe even for eternity.

Having gathered the will to look you in the eye, he notices your face painted with dirt. Your hair, growing over your eyes and nearing your shoulders. The rip at your jacket collar. The healing cut on your lip.

"It seems you possess patience already. What you lack is the ability to harness it."

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. "Was this a test?!"

"It was," Loki chirps while opening the tuna can, "and you passed with excellence."

~

More training filled the rest of the morning easily. Amidst the physicality of sparring in life-and-death scenarios, Loki assessed your mentality as well. He sharpened your strengths, which grew the fastest in your fighting, and honed in on your weaknesses. Most, if not all, stemming from your emotions.

He went so far as to create illusions to test you. Only, you didn't realize they were illusions.

Whilst showing you one of the many ways to escape someone's grip without the help of a weapon, he mounted you with his knees pinning your shoulders. Your arms useless, your neck exposed to his silver dagger. The coldness of the blade was paralyzing.

"This feeling means you're not dead and you have time to act."

"Fuck, your breath reeks."

Loki nearly loses it all. "Focus, you sausage! You have to act fast!"

You try to move what little you can when suddenly the weight holding you down is thrown to the floor. A man has Loki down and connects with a few punches before you can launch to your feet. The dagger was dropped in the struggle so you grab it and drive it through the stranger's neck, only to lose balance and nearly fall. Your hand went through air.

The man was air?!

Someone seizes your mishap from behind and wraps their arms around your throat. You distantly hear Loki scream your name before the feeling of cold, hard metal presses against your skull.

"Whatever you've got, give it!"

Once your vision focuses you see Loki, his hands above his head, begging. "Let her go. Please."

"Now!"

"We don't have anything!"

"The backpacks! Get 'em! Empty everything out!"

Loki keeps looking at you, as if he's begging you to do something. Then you remember the dagger you're clutching in your hand.

You swing toward the stranger's head. Again, your arm goes through air, but at last you're free. Frantically you look around to find where the air people are coming in. Before you pass Loki, he haults you.

"Come on! We gotta stop them - "

"Easy, darling, easy," he coos, "it's alright. There's no one here."

"But they, they are! They were here ... "

"Shhh," he grips your shoulders down to your triceps, looking deeply into your eyes. Instantly calming you down. "It's alright, darling. It was all an illusion. We're safe."

"Wh... Illusion..?" you ask breathlessly. The house is quiet. The wind howls outside. Everything begins to play out in your head again; how your hand kept going through the robbers. They weren't real. In one hand, you want to melt into Loki's embrace due to the draining withdrawal from raw fear.

But in the other hand is the dagger.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you swing wildly, not aiming at anything but definitely aiming for something. Loki disarms you before you poke an eye out.

Many, many obscenities later and you're sitting on the mattress together discussing your strengths and weaknesses while cleaning your weapons.

"Your reflexes are a bit slow, but they're improving. Just when the fear is about to consume you beyond return, you recover, and you recover well. Your strikes are deadly. But that bit of time when your emotions dare to take over ... it could be enough time for anything to happen."

"Yeah, yeah. What's my grade?" you wipe the barrel of your rifle.

Loki laughs. "You've graduated from grasshopper to novice. Well done."

You smile at him.

Then, you hear it.

Far off, but approaching.

Your eyes dart toward the sound, then drift back to Loki staring back at you.

A herd.

Loki frowns, his brows furrowing above sorrowful green eyes.

"We have to move."

~

i aint fuckin around no more y'all. this is a motherfuckin Last of Us AU

tag list: @sydneyss-worlddd @afinedilemma @fire-in-her-veinz @belladonnabarnes @drakesfiance @internetgremlin @dragon-chica @triggeredpossum @tarynkauai

[elizabethan-memes]

Can you elaborate on Erusamus and the reformation please, or at least point me toward sources? Politics make more sense than philosophy to me, so I see the reformation through the lense of Henry VIII, or the Duke of Prussia who dissolved the teutonic order, or France siding with the protestants during the 30 Years War because Protestants > Hapsburgs

So sorry to take so long!

If you needed this answer for academic reasons, given that summer term is pretty much done I’m probably too late to help, but I hate to leave an ask unanswered.

HELLA LONG ESSAY BENEATH THE CUT SORRY I WROTE SELF-INDULGENTLY WITHOUT EDITING SO THERE IS WAY MORE EXPLANATION THAN YOU PROBABLY NEED

Certainly religion has been politicised, you need look no further than all the medieval kings having squabbles with the pope. Medieval kings were not as devastated by the prospect of excommunication as you’d expect they’d be in a super-devout world, it was kinda more of a nuisance (like, idk, the pope blocking you on tumblr)  than the “I’m damned forever! NOOOOOOO!” thing you’d expect. I’m not saying excommunication wasn’t a big deal, but certainly for Elizabeth I she was less bothered than the pope excommunicating her than the fact that he absolved her Catholic subjects of allegiance to her and promised paradise to her assassin (essentially declaring open season on her).

I think, however, in our secular world we forget that religion was important for its own sake. Historians since Gibbon have kind of looked down on religion as its own force, seeing it as more a catalyst for economic change (Weber) or a tool of the powerful. If all history is the history of class struggle, then religion becomes a weapon in class warfare rather than its own force with its own momentum. For example, historians have puzzled over conversion narratives, and why Protestantism became popular among artisans in particular. Protestantism can’t compete with Catholicism in terms of aesthetics or community rituals, it’s a much more interior kind of spirituality, and it involves complex theological ideas like predestination that can sound rather drastic, so why did certain people find it appealing?

(although OTOH transubstantiation is a more complex theological concept than the Protestant idea of “the bread and wine is just bread and wine, it’s a commemoration of the Last Supper not a re-enactment, it aint that deep fam”).

I’ve just finished an old but interesting article by Terrence M. Reynolds in Concordia Theological Quarterly vol. 41 no. 4 pp.18-35 “Was Erasmus responsible for Luther?” Erasmus in his lifetime was accused of being a closet Protestant, or “laying the egg that Luther hatched”. Erasmus replied to this by saying he might have laid the egg, but Luther hatched a different bird entirely. Erasmus did look rather proto Protestant because he was very interested in reforming the Church. He wanted more people to read the Bible, he had a rather idyllic dream of “ploughmen singing psalms as they ploughed their fields”. He criticised indulgences, the commercialisation of relics and pilgrimages and the fact that the Papacy was a political faction getting involved in wars. He was worried that the rituals of Catholicism meant that people were more mechanical in their religion than spiritual: they were memorising the words, doing the actions, paying the Church, blindly believing anything a poorly educated priest regurgitated to them. They were confessing their sins, doing their penances like chores and then going right back to their sins. They were connecting with the visuals, but not understanding and spiritually connecting with the spirit of Jesus’ message and his ideals of peace and love and charity and connecting with God. Erasmus translated the NT but being a Renaissance humanist, he went ad fontes (‘to the source’) and used Greek manuscripts, printing the Greek side by side with the Latin so that readers could compare and see the translation choices he made. His NT had a lot of self-admitted errors in it, but it was very popular with Prots as well as Caths. Caths like Thomas More were cool with him doing it, but it was also admired by Prots like Thomases and Cromwell and Cranmer and Tyndale himself. When coming across Greek words like presbyteros, Erasmus actually chose to leave it as a Greek word with its own meaning than use a Latin word that didn’t *quite* fit the meaning of the original.

However, he did disagree with Protestants on fundamental issues, especially the question of free will. For Luther, the essence was sole fide: salvation through faith alone. He took this from Paul’s letter to the Romans, where it says that through faith alone are we justified. Ie, humans are so fallen (because of the whole Eve, apple, original sin debacle) and so flawed and tainted by sin, and God is so perfect, that we ourselves will never be good enough. All the good works in the world will never reach God’s level of perfection and therefore we all deserve Hell, but we won’t go to hell because God and Jesus will save us from the Hell we so rightly deserve, by grace and by having faith in Jesus’ sacrifice, who will alone redeem us.  The opposite end of the free will/sola fide spectrum is something called Pelagianism, named after the guy who believed it, Pelagius, who lived centuries and centuries before the Ref, it’s the belief that humans can earn their salvation by themselves, by good works. Both Caths and Prots considered Pelagius a heretic. Caths like Erasmus believed in a half-way house: God reaches out his hand to save you through Jesus’ example and sacrifice, giving you grace, and you receive his grace, which makes you want to be a good person and do good works (good works being things like confession of sins, penances, the eucharist, charity, fasting, pilgrimages) and then doing the good works means you get more grace and you are finally saved, or at least you will go to purgatory after death AND THEN be saved and go to heaven, rather than going straight to Hell, which is what happens if you reject Jesus and do no good works and never repent your sins. If you don’t receive his grace and do good works, you won’t make the grade for ultimate salvation.

(This is why it’s important to look at the Ref as a theological as well as a political movement because if you only look at the political debates, Erasmus looks more Protestant than he actually was.)

There are several debates happening in the Reformation: the role of the priest (which is easily politicised) free will vs predestination, transubstantiation or no transubstantiation (is or isn’t the bread and wine transformed into the body and blood of Jesus by God acting through the priest serving communion) and the role of scripture. A key doctrine of Protestantism is sola scriptura. Basically: if it’s in the Bible, it’s the rules. If it’s not in the Bible, it’s not in the rules. No pope in the bible? No pope! No rosaries in the bible? No using rosaries! (prayer beads)

However, both Caths and Prots considered scripture v.v. important. Still, given that the Bible contains internal contradictions (being a collection of different books written in different languages at different times by different people) there was a hierarchy of authority when it came to scripture. As a general rule of thumb, both put the New T above the Old T in terms of authority. (This is partly why Jews and Muslims have customs like circumcision and no-eating-pig-derived-meats that Christians don’t have, even though the order of ‘birth’ as it were goes Judaism-Christianity-Islam. All 3 Abrahammic faiths use the OT, but only Christians use the NT.)

1.       The words of Jesus. Jesus said you gotta do it, you gotta do it. Jesus said monogamy, you gotta do monogamy. Jesus said no divorce, you gotta do no divorcing (annulment =/= divorce). Jesus said no moneylending with interest (usury), you gotta do no moneylending with interest (which is partly why European Jews did a lot of the banking. Unfortunately, disputes over money+religious hatred is a volatile combination, resulting in accusations of conspiracy and sedition, leading to hate-fuelled violence and oppression.) The trouble with the words of Jesus is that you can debate or retranslate what Jesus meant, especially  easily as Jesus often spoke in parables and with metaphors. When Jesus said “this is my body…this is my blood” at the Last Supper, is that or is that not support for transubstantiation? When Jesus called Peter the rock on which he would build the church, was that or was that not support for the apostolic succession that means Popes are the successor to St Peter, with Peter being first Pope? When the gospel writers said Jesus ‘did more things and said more things than are contained in this book’, does that or does that not invalidate the idea of sola scriptura?

2.       The other New Testament writers, especially St. Paul and the Relevation of St John the Divine. (Divine meaning like seer, divination, not a god or divinity). These are particularly relevant when it comes to discussing the role of priests and priesthood, only-male ordination, and whether women can preach and teach religion.

3.       The Old Testament, especially Genesis.

4.       The apocryphal or deuterocanonical works. These books are considered holy, but there’s question marks about their validity, so they’re not as authoritative as the testaments. I include this because the deuterocanonical book 2 Maccabees was used as scriptural justification for the Catholic doctrine of purgatory, but 2 Maccabees is the closest scipture really gets to mentioning any kind of purgatory. Protestants did not consider 2 Maccabees to be strong enough evidence to validate purgatory.

5.       The Church Fathers, eg. Origen, Augustine of Hippo. Arguably their authority often comes above apocryphal scripture. It’s from the Church Fathers that the concept of the Trinity (one god in 3 equal persons, God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit) is developed because it’s not actually spelled out explicitly in the NT. Early modern Catholics and Protestants both adhered to the Trinity and considered Arianism’s interpretation of the NT (no trinity, God the Father is superior to Jesus as God the Son) to be heresy. Church Fathers were important to both Catholics and Protestants: Catholics because Catholics did not see scripture as the sole source of religious truth, so additions made by holy people are okay so long as they don’t *contradict* scripture, and so long as they are stamped with the church council seal of approval, Protestants because they believed that the recent medieval theologians and the papacy had corrupted and altered the original purity of Christianity. If they could show that Church Fathers from late antiquity like Augustine agreed with them, that therefore proved their point about Christianity being corrupted from its holy early days.

Eamon Duffy’s book Stripping of the Altars is useful because it questions the assumptions that the Reformation and Break with Rome was inevitable, or that the Roman Catholic Church was a corrupt relic of the past that had to be swept aside for Progress, or that most people even wanted the Ref in England to happen. Good history essays need to discuss different historians’ opinions and Duffy can be relied upon to have a different opinion than Protestant historians. Diarmaid MacCulloch’s works are good at explaining theological concepts, he is a big authority on church history and he’s won a whole bunch of prizes. He was actually ordained a deacon in the Church of England in the 1980s but stopped being a minister because he was angry with the institution for not tolerating the fact he had a boyfriend. The ODNB is a good source to access through your university if you want to read a quick biography on a particular theologian or philosopher, but it only covers British individuals. Except Erasmus, who has a page on ODNB despite being not British because he’s just that awesome and because his influence on English scholarship and culture was colossal. Peter Marshall also v good, esp on conversion. Euan Cameron wrote a mahoosive book called the European Reformation.“More versus Tyndale: a study of controversial technique” by Rainer Pineas is good for the key differences in translation of essential concepts between catholic and protestant thinkers. The Sixteenth Century Journal is a good source of essays as well.

[grotesquegabby]

I once again apologize because I'm pretty sure this is also a lot to ask X3 What would Cordie's future kiddos think of their cousins? :3 And only if you want, their other possible aunt and uncles? :D I of course mean Davey and Ula's spouses heheh

oh you are perfectly alright huehue~ uwu here we go~

@post-itpenny some more of yours are here as well~

Margaux: the one with much love but slight fear

Harper - This man makes her nervous. Hes beautiful but his expression scares me. Need to assess if he is actually safe to be around.

Penelope - This is mommas best friend! Clearly she can be trusted!

Amaranthus- mysterious lady is...mysterious. Is she..a witch? Getting witch vibes so shed be nervous around Amaranthus to start but....will learn to like her in time. uwu

Maggie - pretty lady reminds me of a cardinal.

Billy - Hes a pretty man. business business business is what comes to mind. This is the witches dad, is he a witch too. x3

Atlas - what? What! *Points at his head* does he wear those all the time! Can I wear kitty ears then? view him as this brave guy who goes around being himself no matter where he is.

Schrader - *Dreamy eyes as she stares at him* hes like a prince

Ally - Cute! is the first word that comes to mind.

Rory - will honestly be creeped out by Rory, just a feeling. Something aint right there. That smile makes her nervous.

Clara - a living doll, she is quite pretty. looks delicate like she could break like a porcelain doll, would worry since shes known to worry about such things.

Calliope -  oooh, shes pretty. She looks so nice, and Momma speaks highly of her for advice.

Cuckoo -  They are so kind looking. Will instantly trust Cuckoo upon meeting them.

Bingo - calm, yes perfect. uwu

Carney - a wild one, would be too shy to want to stick around Carney but if Ally was with him shed feel more comfortable. uwu shes just not a full of energy type of person

Orion and Hunter - due to the feeling both of them give her. Kind of creep her out a bit. Its the smile again.

Dante - This is a cool guy, I think my big brothers would like him a lot.

Robyn and Rayden - did these two together cause Margaux for a bit might  think theres only one of them for a bit till she finds them both together x3 she knows abut twins but itll be funny to see I thought x3 But she does like them they seem like fun people to her~

Ace - woah hes so big and strong looking.  I bet he can pick up everything. Maybe even a dinosaur, or a house.

Ferry - Is she a fairy? she might follow her around to see if she does magick. Will find out shes married to the strong man. Its a match made in heaven~

James - This is a nice man, she would love to spend time with James. Hes clearly so nice and shed adore him.

Magpie - that is a fun lady. colors, glowing and more.

Juno - She seems cool and Momma seems to like her. So she must be alright.

Vega - shes so wonderful, and kind. she bakes too. fast friends with this woman due to her sweet tooth.

Lyra - would be a bit nervous around Lyra but get over it soon enough. As Im sure Lyra would be welcoming to her.

Peregrine - nervous, might be scared of him.

Joseph -another nice man uwu this is the dad of the guy who wears antlers all day long.

Felix: The one with even more questions than before!

Harper - whys your face like that. Are you wearing makeup? Why are you wearing makeup? Are those feathers in your hair? Thats a bold fashion statement dont you think? Why do your eyes look like that?

Penelope - Miss Cordelia told me you guys used to be superheros. Are you still a superhero? Do you have super powers? Miss Cordelia said I shouldnt tell anyone else about it. Can I be a super hero too!?

Amaranthus - Are you a witch? do you eat kids? ooooh, I guess that is just fairytales. Are you one of those goth people then?

Maggie - Will notice the feathers on her and instantly are you an angel? Are you someones guardian angel? If he finds out she can see into the future ooh man prepare for lots of quesitons about it and of course Felix will start to worry and wonder if things will work out. He likes Cordelia and loves all of his new family he wont want to leave it anytime soon uwu so he might look to Maggie for some reassurance

Billy - will be transfixed by Billys eyes, with the two colors. Hes never seen it before so itll be interesting but Hes going to wonder if Billys a demon x3 and just flat out say it in front of people.

Atlas - Deerman! Do your antlers fall off like regular deer? Do you have hooves? No, awe that would have been so cool. I think it’d be cool to be part animal? Are you secretly part animal? like...*whispers* a deer superhero? *dreamy eyes* You are married to a very pretty lady.

Schrader - You are also married to a pretty lady~ uwu and he plays music! Will learn sign language so he can talk to Schrader better uwu

Ally - you are super cute! tells her this upon meeting her. just all :3

Rory - He doesnt understand why anyones nervous around this guy, they seem so nice. Look at that smile! :D so welcoming

Clara - a pretty lady who is more than meets the eye. He bets!  Plus she made these lovely toys for him and his sister so how bad could she possibly be?

Calliope - mixed feelings for Calliope. She seems really nice but his brother seems to think other wise.

Cuckoo - The Circus owner is a wonderful person and seeing that his brother would trust him right away He would as well uwu

Bingo - would love to catch her at roller derby competitions.

Carney - Wild one! Perfect for Felix, who has lots of energy. Cordelia wondering if Carney would like to babysit at least for Felix who wanted her to ask. x3

Orion and Hunter - wouldn’t have too much of an opinion on them yet

Dante - a cool guy who played in a band. are you still in the band? What do you play? how

Robyn and Rayden - would just like his sister get fooled as well to start x3 and then laugh upon realizing. Would think these two are cool as heck and man if one doesnt want to do something....the other could do it in their place. Have you two done that he wonders?

Ace - *flexs his little muscles* x3 Will want Ace to flex his muscles too. see if he can lift him, of course Ace can uwu but Felix just wants to be lifted~

Ferry - a nice lady who makes wonderful tarts and treats~<3 (- o.o-)

James - Miss Cordelia has talked about this nice man. And that he is a good family friend that the kids can go too uwu

Magpie -  Would love to go to her shows. This is a fun lady, look at her she is a master magician.

Juno - Lady of fire! mostly due to her fiery spirit. Will definitely want to hang out with her.

Vega - a very nice woman uwu mom of the deerman. Will ask if shes an animal person too. If he gets a good answer hell be excited x3

Lyra - not too much of an opinion yet

Peregrine - o3o why are you so grumpy looking? x3

Joseph -would seem nice enough uwu hes the dad of the deerman.

Damian: The one who pretends not to care

Harper - What the hell...why is he so...beautiful!

Penelope - She seems pretty nice. Clearly Cordelia’s bestie. can see why these two would get along so well.

Amaranthus - Digs the outfit.

Maggie - She seems nice

Billy - He can see getting along with this guy.

Atlas - Whats going on? Why are you wearing antlers? Whatever floats your boat. So your married to Cordelias big sister

Schrader -  Really cool guy, would love to hang out with Schrader.  Your also married to Cordelias big sister?

Ally - She seems very sweet and kind. And somewhat timid.

Rory - This dude here makes me....nervous not sure why they do.

Clara - She seems nice enough. Probably volunteers at homeless shelters which isn’t a bad thing no she just looks like she would.

Calliope - Now this woman here....is not...human. Theres just no way. Will he say this out loud? no.... x3

Cuckoo - Thinks Cuckoo is cool, they own a circus. Thats one of the coolest things to him.

Bingo - very serious are you and the tall guy...together? Thats not a bad thing no he just thinks they would fit together. Not that Damian is claiming to be a match maker no way x3 But hes going to find out about her roller durby and oof Shes going to be one of the coolest girls he knows!

Carney - Not too much of an opinion for him

Orion and Hunter - together they make him weary x3 but he does find them pretty neat. If they are

Dante - Definitely thinks Dante is a cool guy, he might get a reaction out of Damian thats eager and excited not annoyed. uwu

Robyn and Rayden - these guys are friends with Dante. And meeting them is going to be cool, imagine the pranks you can play as identical twins~

Ace - might be slightly intimidated by him but would pretend not to be x3

Ferry - She seems very sweet, and can see Ace and her dynamic really working out.

James - a genuinely nice person. He feels a connection to him for a reason.

Magpie - really colorful and fun. Can see why his sister would like her.

Juno - Hed definitely like her. Shes pretty cool, would enjoy hangning out with her.

Vega - same feeling as Lyra, more than meets the eye. He bets she is secretly a prankster.

Lyra - seems pretty cool, he has a feeliong about her that shes more than meets the eye.

Peregrine - I feel these two would just stare at each other or glare from across the room. x3

Joseph -Seems nice enough

I hope these are alright uwu

[astrologysvt]

hey! a bit random but do you think a relationship may work out even if partners aren't compatible according to astrology?

absolutely!! i def think that there are a lot of astrological reasons as to why “non-compatible” charts could have happy and healthy relationships, but before i get into those i do wanna reiterate that people come first not their charts. if people really like each other and have a respect for one another, i truly believe they’ll find a way to make things work!!! so don’t let astrology ever make you think a relationship “can’t” work, the world is your oyster my dude~~ love who you wanna love~ 

but okay, at least in terms of how i’ve been doing compatibility readings, i’ve been looking at people’s personal planets and then making a decision on whether or not i think they’d prefer someone similar or someone more complimentary/different. it really depends! i’ve def been doing more similar just because it’s really hard to gauge whether or not someone would prefer harmony or contrast, and most of the time harmony has a place even if it’s not a particularly ground breaking pairing. but i generally find if your chart is more similar there is an ease and comfort in talking to those people as you’d have very similar perspectives and values. but with charts that are very different, there’s a sense of excitement and newness as these are energies you can’t find within yourself! so i def think, inherently, non-harmonious placements have a place in compatibility! i find placements like leo, aqua, virgo, sag, maybe even a little bit cap and libra — really like variety and a bit of friction in their relationships. there is a sense of discovery, balance, and challenge in these relationships. not to mention, if there are “incompatibilities” this may make the relationship feel even MORE rewarding as there is a sense of growth involved. and some placements honestly just get BORED if their partners are too similar to them. tbh, a leo may even start to think that their town aint big enough for two leos lolol so it truly depends!

i do think there are some placements you need to be careful of in terms of disagreements in relationships. i think think more passive aggressive placements in mars aren’t the MOST compatible (cancer, virgo, pisces, libra). if there are disagreements, there may be a habit of letting things pile up and never truly addressing them. but if there is an awareness of this habit, these issues can certainly be nipped in the bud at the first sign of tension. same thing for overly aggressive/assertive signs as that may cause a fight for power in relationships. again, if there is a respect for each other and a desire to make things work, two individuals could certainly find a way to make things work. but if you’re someone who WANTS to lead and doesn’t particularly WANT to share that power, then of course they’d be incompatible with someone who doesn’t want to as well. but again, that is a conscious decision and not particularly something astrological related. but sometimes, there is the case of two people not being particularly good for each other. that is something that needs to be decided and felt out over time. the positives should surely outweigh the negatives, and the negatives should be capable of being approached in a constructive way. if those aspects aren’t there, then that’s when i would deem a relationship/charts incompatible. 

i DO think astrology can be very helpful in relationships. sometimes it’s hard to empathize or think objectively about situations where there may be conflict. i don’t ever recommend using astrology as a hard and fast rule, but i do think if you’re struggling to understand where your s/o is coming from, you may be able to find some insight in their chart. not answers, but maybe at least a few grounding points to help you navigate the situation. 

EDIT: i do also wanna add!!! overly harmonious charts doesn’t mean there wont be issues!! sometimes, if they’re too harmonious, there could be a lessened awareness of potential problems or even a sense of denial about issues as they arise!!! if people get along TOO well, it’s so easy to retreat back to what is light and easy without addressing what needs to be addressed!