#if u make art u need to be okay with people finding their own reflection in it

[shunshunrika]

Hi, for your recent event, I hope you can consider this request! 💖

FLUFF 7 + SMUT 27 + Gojo Satoru + (no kink specified: up to author!)

₊˚Ꮚ𓂅୨⊹ OBSESSION - GOJO SATORU

warnings - SMUT, afab! reader, mirror sex, dacryphilia, humiliation, overstimulation, recording, oral (m! and f! receiving), facial, dirty talk, squirting, pet-names, not proofread.

MDNI, 18+ only!!!!

a/n: Satoruuu, why are you THAT hot? also, can't believe this is my first toru smut? I'm a toru account..what??

Gojo Satoru, your very own boyfriend, usually known as the man who knows everything, doesn't know about your obsession with him.

Yeah, you have been dating him for a bit over 6 months now and yet, you keep forgetting that you are. You are still in your 'crush' headspace after all this time. Probably because Gojo Satoru is internet famous and a lot of people, like you, are in love with him. It totally gives you an existential crisis sometimes - that you are not one of those fangirls, but his actual girlfriend. That doesn't soothe your tendencies though.

You still steal glances at him and find your cheeks turning red-hot, you find ways to sneak a peek at his naked, steamy form when he's done showering, hell you will even read fanfiction about him and save particularly juicy fanart if you come across it. Recently, you had come across certain pictures of his, drawn by a very talented artist - (bless, you even tipped her anonymously)

Ever since then, it has been the photo that adorns your phone screen. Obviously, you had a different lock screen since you didn't want Satoru to know but you could ogle at this art of Satoru all you wanted in secrecy. Satoru never knew you had this side to you. He always felt you were the more independent one emotionally and he was clingy. Little did he know though. It felt indecent, childish but you loved your little secret all the more.

You had gone a few weeks without Satoru ever noticing until one day, in the middle of the supermarket, Satoru needed your phone to look at the grocery list.

"I put down ice-cream in there, baby. Did you remove it again?" Satoru whined rather loudly. A few women passing by chuckled at the two of you, bantering in the aisle.

"Satoru. We don't need ice-cream every week, okay? Do you love your dentist more than me?" is your rebuttal.

"She's prettier..." Satoru hums to himself, earning a slap on his back from you, making him chuckle.

"Well if not ice-cream, what's left..." Satoru started scrolling through the list until he seemed to have found something.

"Oh, what's this?" he asked, rhetorically. "Wow."

For a second, you feel an ominous air. You stop dead in your tracks and feel the urge to look at what Satoru is looking at. Sure enough, his blue eyes reflect the half-naked art of his own silhouette, vibrant in all its glory right on your home-screen. You almost forget how to breathe when you snatch the phone out of his hands aggressively.

"S-Satoru, I-"

"Y/N, seriously?" he asked, amused.

“Am I your wallpaper?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that!” you exclaim, a bit too loud for a public place. You calm yourself down and clear your throat before continuing. "u-uh. I thought it looked, uh, good...so"

"Y/N!" his face cringed up. "Oh my lord, you love me that much. And here I used to think you found another man because you keep ignoring me!" Satoru pouted quietly, still eyeing your phone. You could sense the onlookers' eyes bore a hole through your back so at this point, you just grabbed Satoru and made a run for the billing line. After you were in your car, you finally breathed a sigh of relief. Satoru still wouldn't shut up about the picture on the ride home as you drove. He had convinced you to hand him your phone so he could look at the picture better from all angles. What he was looking at, only he knew.

You were so happy he hadn't figured out that there were more.

"Huh..."

Another bout of unease. You perhaps spoke too soon.

"THERE'S MORE?" he exclaimed so loud while swiping left and right, you almost slammed your breaks.

"Satoru! Stop that!" you screamed. "Give me back my phone!" you lurched at him trying to get your device filled with his lewd pictures back.

"Y/N, are you really that horny for me?" He asked genuinely.

"You should've told me 4 times a week was still insufficient for you."

"Satoru, please." at this point you were so embarrassed, your eyes were tearing up. You didn't wait for his response, parked and ran straight into your house, kicking off your shoes. He could keep the phone, do whatever. He could think you are a freak, or obsessed, or gross or whatever! You sniffed as you climbed into your king-sized bed and hugged yourself. This was so humiliating!

"Y/N? You cryin'?" Satoru was right on your heels without you realizing. He climbed into the bed with you, dropping your phone on the side table.

"Are you embarrassed about it?" he asked, scooting to be beside you, his arm on your wait and his lips on your ear. "You embarrassed that your dirty little secret is out now?" He said, sliding two fingers up your shorts and rubbing your little nub through your panties. You bit your lip, pressing your thighs together and trapping his wrist there. When he realized that he was trapped, he proceeded to pinch your nub lightly making you yelp.

"Stop teasing me!" you whimpered, your voice breaking halfway through and your vision blurry with tears.

"Nope. I want you to cry more than that, but let's do this a bit differently." he said, getting up and picking you up along with him, bridal style. He was so strong it was practically effortless for him to carry you like you were a doll. He carried you away from the bed and you wondered where he was taking you.

"Let's switch the environment a bit, shall we?" he said, laying you down on the carpet in front of a full-size mirror that lay in the corner of his room. The mirror was large enough to show you and him. You thought he was too tall for it.

"You won't need these." Satoru said, pulling at your clothes. "Off with them." he commanded, stripping himself of his shirt while facing the mirror. You could see the intricate pattern of every solid muscle on his torso and abdomen as he got rid of his clothing and you did too. You noticed how pretty your body looked and how prettier it looked bare, sitting right below Satoru's own bare body. His length hung right over your head, semi-hard already.

"How should we do this?" he put a finger to his chin, pondering.

"W-what are we doing?" you asked frantically, unsure of what was about to unfold other than the two of you having s*x in front of the mirror.

"I'm thinking." Satoru got down on his back and pointed at his face. "Sit on me and face the mirror."

You gulped when you thought of how that would look in the mirror. Your legs spread out atop Satoru's gorgeous face and you having access to his abs and his hard-on.

You quickly followed what he told you and sank onto his waiting mouth, moaning out load when you felt his tongue beginning to explore your insides. Satoru grabbed your asscheeks and lifted you up ever so slightly so you could see in the mirror, how his tongue entered in and out, at a steady pace, before setting you back down onto him. Gosh, that looked so lewd...

"What should I do?" you asked, more to yourself than to Satoru. You started out with tracing his taut abs and you saw in the mirror how your fingers filled in the ridges and crannies. Your hands finally snaked their way to his towering dick. You bent yourself forward in order to reach his dick with your mouth as his torso was too long and it ended up making you lift your ass off Satoru's face. He growled and pressed on your hips to make you sit back onto his face. You struggled to stretch out this was for a few seconds until you found a comfortable angle.

You made eye-contact with your reflection as you licked the tip of Satoru's length softly. His head looked so raw and pink, it was cute. you smiled at it before placing a kiss on it. This made Satoru groan into your hole and made you sigh too.

"Pretty 'toru cock." you commented, taking it in your mouth little by little. You were surprised how large it looked, sheathed in your mouth. It created a bulge on your left cheek as you looked at your lewd, horny self in the mirror - eyes half lidded, saliva escaping from your packed mouth, hair astray. Satoru never let his rhythm falter, as he chugged his tongue deep into your crevices, lapping up every ounce of your juice as soon as your walls were coated with a fresh layer.

His fingers were probably leaving marks on your ass now, but you loved it when they did that. Your plump ass marked with Satoru's fingers. You hollowed your cheeks out, taking in more and more till your nose connected with his pelvic bone. The tufts of fine hair on his crotch tickled your nose as you stayed there, feeling his shaft sit comfortably in your throat, like it was a glove meant just for Satoru. Meanwhile, you swirled your tongue all around his length, paying attention to each vein and the underside of the dick. You brought your hands up to his sack to toy with it - gently rubbing at the twin balls and resisting the urge to squeeze them. He noticed what you were doing and brought his own hand to your nub, rubbing at it fervently.

"Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn't tease me." he purred and you moaned right into his dick, quivering as Satoru made you lose your sanity. This was a competition now, who would cum first. You were desperate to win after how humiliated you felt. You increased your pace with your mouth around his shaft and start pumping the bottom to add to his pleasure.

"Nghh." he groaned out under you, losing focus.

"That's it Satoru." you mumbled with a mouth full of cock, feeling him come closer to his peak. "Put it all on my face, please."

"I want to drink all of it."

That was enough to send Satoru over the edge and you removed your mouth just in time for him to paint your face white. You were so f*cked out yourself that you let his thick jizz go wherever it wanted to, inside your nostrils, back in your mouth, on your eyelids. Some even fell on his hairy crotch which you kitten-licked at diligently.

"Get all of it, don't leave a single drop behind." Satoru told you as he continued his assault on your womanhood from the behind. You looked at yourself in the mirror, deranged looking - face covered in ropes of his cum and your tongue picking up the leftovers from his pubes. What a mess. Beautiful.

"Say cheese, Y/n." you suddenly heard Satoru say as he started humming into your hole. The vibrations and his tongue were enough to push you over and cum monstrously onto his mouth so much so that you didn't notice what he was doing. You cum painted face was contorting in pleasure and you wondered what sort of expression you were making. You heard the sound of a camera flash but couldn't care less, you enjoyed your bliss for a few more seconds with tears rolling down your cheeks, mixing with Satoru's cum, until you finally looked back to see what Satoru was up to.

"Wow. what a masterpiece." he said, showing you the picture, he just captured on his phone. It looked like art. Your face, the scene, the mirror, everything in it.

"I'm going to use this as my wallpaper now." Satoru said mischievously, earning a grimace from you.

"Satoru- you-" you began saying with a sigh, trying to get off of him but Satoru won't let go. He made you sit back down on him and grabbed at your breasts blindly.

"Where are you going, I'm not done with your pretty hole yet." he said, plunging his tongue yet again into your insides, making you screech.

"O-ow. Wait." you hissed, tearing up. "I'm still sensitive."

"Cry it out. You look so pretty like that." he said, pinching and pulling at the erect nipples on your breasts making you hum in pleasure and pain.

"Oh my goodness." You exclaimed and kept exclaiming until once more, Satoru's chin was drenched in your juices.

"Okay, stop now." you said.

"No, princess." he said devilishly. "Not yet."

You were now seriously questioning whether you would lose your sanity. This time, your walls were even dry and yet you felt something bubble up in your abdomen while Satoru's mouth sucked your nether lips dry.

"Oh, oh!" was the only thing you were able to say as you saw yourself in the mirror and a second later, liquid sprayed out of you and straight onto the mirror. You kept spraying the mirror in bursts, with your head thrown back until you were so weak, you fell forward, your face next to Satoru's limp c*ck.

Satoru finally let go of your ass and gently pushed you off of him, inspecting your face.

"Well." he said, getting closer to the mirror and licking some of the liquid off of it.

"If you need a picture of me as your wallpaper, I'll send you nudes baby." he pulled your cheek as you smiled, watching him set off for the bathroom, humming a tune only he knew, as you let yourself drift into dreamland full of naked Satorus.

[inkskinned]

"the curtains weren't blue on purpose. why should we care?"

my love! let me ask you this - did you eat breakfast today? this tiny moment in your life. just think about it. did you?

for some of you, the answer is yes and for some of you it is technically and for some of you it is does coffee count. some of you reached for cereal or gmo-free overnight oats or frozen waffles or 3-day-old pizza. sometimes we eat the same thing, every day, for weeks. i get tired of eggs randomly, only to go back to craving them desperately. i'm cuban; i take my coffee like my father showed me, very milky and sweet.

some of us ate in a hurry. some of us hate eating breakfast but if we don't we will get nauseous later. some of us took our meds first or took our meds after. some of us have a kitchen 5 feet wide and sometimes it's the biggest room in the house. some of us are confident there will be food in the pantry and some of us flinch and say well, the paycheck is coming. some of us turn on a podcast while we eat or we scroll our phones or write in our diaries.

some of us are choosing, specifically, not to eat breakfast. some of us are too busy. some of us are pretending we "just forgot," but we are ignoring the warning signs that everything feels too-heavy. some of us are so consumed with anxiety or grief that we can't eat. some of us can't stand up long enough to make our coffee. some of us have no table to sit down and eat.

i cannot tell you what an artist "meant" by their choices. but they did have to make a choice, conscious or otherwise, to give you information. to give you a little bit more light. each of these choices are little stars of data; connecting speckles for you to weave through, drawing a line.

you cannot use a mirror in a dark room. for some of us; we will not care that the curtains are blue, because that will just be a data point and not enough light to see by. for some of us, the blue curtains will be the same as our childhood bedroom. it will make us seasick. for some of us, blue will be the color of frostbite. it might look like a pixel up close; but from a distance, oh! the picture blooms.

i cannot tell you what will stick out for you. what will carry meaning. some of you will read the sentence "i didn't have breakfast today" and say "this means nothing." some of you will read that and say "oh, me neither." some of you will say "this means the character is probably a little grouchy." some of you will say "oh, i wonder if they're okay. why didn't they eat anything?" ... art is a mirror. i am holding hands with you, over space and time, and asking you to feel something with me.

i want you to read my work and find a blue pair of curtains. i want you to read my work and find things in it that i never imagined placing. i have no way of knowing what will resonate with you, that's true. and maybe i just was hungry while i wrote this, and thinking about the eggs in my fridge. but if you found meaning, that meaning is yours. it cannot be erased just because i didn't "intend" it. you created a different world by interpreting my work. it's collaborative! that's beautiful! that's stunning!

just! imagine looking at the night sky and saying - it's stupid to have a favorite constellation or a favorite star. they're just there.

because here's the thing - across centuries and cultures, we look up. we still find meaning in the stars. these beautiful, lovely scattered accidents. are you looking? they call. and we look back and say oh! of course we are!

[appledotcodotuk]

why the hive fckin suck at its job: a rant

spoilers for tgwdlm ahead!

first of all, it's important to consider what exactly the hive's job is. my answer is... who the fuck knows. literally. what is the hive's aim. what do you want Paul? more like, what do you want hive? let's find out!

it kinda evolves, as the play progresses. the intial aim of the hive, and one that does actually remain consistent is the constant burning need to grow and devour and gain more and more (insert capitalism metaphor here).

however, this is distorted by the people it possess who influence that aim, as we'll see later.

also the fact it crashes into a theatre displaying Mamma Mia gives the hive the motive it need to fit the world around it to the structure of the musical. having no originality of its own, the hive instead just picks up what is given to it. kinda like an evil baby.

it wants uniformity, that is indeed its ultimate goal and desire, no duh. it thinks it can achieve that through musical theatre, shame that the hive is dead wrong. cause the hive fucking sucks at its own job / aim / ultimate purpose / one concrete goal that motivates all its actions.

can't maintain control over its subjects

okay, so, the hive wants uniformity. it wants everyone to be dancing to the beat of its own tune. right? yeah. shame it literally can't keep its own possessed subjects in line at all. at the risk of sounding like the 10th doctor waxing lyrical abt humanity for the 50th time, humans are really difficult to control cause we're not really motivated by an altruistic allegiance to one primary good. we've got icky emotions that often move us to do stupid unpredictable stuff way more. it makes me wonder if the reason the hive wanted to use musical theatre to try and persuade ppl was cause it seems to think that is how theyll get emotive humans; through emotive songs. anyways. let's look at some examples shall weeeee?

Mr Davidson:

so, Mr Davidson. funnily enough, he's the guy whose in part acting as the hive trying to figure out what it wants through his interactions w/ Paul. every person it possess gives it just a bit more humanity and curiosity abt the world it is currently taking over. at least I think so. hence why as the musical develops u get character's like possessed!Alice wondering 'why does it hurt to love?' - the change in music and mood to something much more introspective really suggests to me that the hive is beginning to question the thoughts and emotions of its human hosts.

Mr Davidson is a family man through and through, he loves his wife Carol. she's his muse, his source of light. his feelings for her are not concrete or easy to explain and solve - hence why his sudden ahem demand of her is so hilarious and also jarring. it completely clashes with the 'I want song' which is simple, and often pushes forward a wider cause. not so with Mr Davidson, he just really loves his wife man. enough to break a frickin alien possession.

tbh I think its hilarious that (at least to me) the hive has to force him to forget and continue with the song, like, he straight up is just talking to his wife in that phone call, talking, not singing. so, no possession until he reverts back into song. ergo, the hive cannot maintain the uniformity it wants. even from the get go when theoretically its control should be stronger cause it has less ppl to co-ordinate. bad. at. its. job.

Paul:

this one hurts folks. yes, I know it's generally agreed, though somewhat debated that the state of Paul by the end of the tgwdlm is not purely possessed. I agree. once again, the hive is unable to truly enforce uniformity.

at this point, the motives of Paul and the hive are kinda just mixed, neither fully human nor fully alien. hence the constant shifts between pleeing for her to get away, to hide, to stay safe: 'what if the only choice is you have to sing to survive' and just full on old style hive nastiness 'let me puke in your mouth and just open your food bin girl' (so romantic 🥰 /j).

the hive has gone away from its original aim, and become something... different. no longer stuck to just one type of genre or style of song, it's really clever to show the developing complexity of the hive by showing how it is now juggling lots of different motifs with references to all the old songs from before recontextualised in a new way - its learning. evil baby... no longer uniform.

general miscommunication:

there are several instances of the hive not fully having uniform control over its subjects. for instance, right after not your seed with the three teens having to like... calibrate. they aren't just completely connected then?? also, this is a very small thing, but uhhhh at the end of inevitable when Paul is about to say the apotheosis is upon... the chorus interrupts him with USSSSSSS. interruptions??? not very in sync of u hive.

I think this inability to exert uniformity is also shown in the contrast between genre of musical theatre. my alien abomination cannot decide whether it wants to be the more modern edgy rock musical (join us (and die), not your seed ) or super happy go lucky old style musical theatre (lah dee dah dah day, and inevitable). it tries to do both, even while trying to encourage union, and sticking to one thing. hypocrite!!!!!

2. aims are guided by the people it possess

so, I mentioned this a bit already, but the hive isn't only mutating the humans, the humans are mutating the hive right back. this is more an interesting observation than any actual analysis but let's goooo.

greenpeace girl:

I think it's very likely that greenpeace girl is one of the first to be possessed. This is probably easily debunkable but whatever this analysis is flying by the seat or its pants anywayyyyy. why? cause where else would it pick up that whole 'this planet needs fixing' thing? it's interesting too, cause it morphs from expressing the desire to join hands and sing together, unity and peace with no actual action behind it. this then goes right to the other end, with the hive going 'fine I'll do it myself' and trying to save things by enforcing a dictatorship on the world. it develops and changes, and strays from its original means of accomplishing its aims! speaking oooooof...

3. inconsistent in means of accomplishing aims

okay, ur an evil hive mind. u think musicals are the way to win over these silly humans cause they're all weak and emotive and seem to respond to them. but, wait! schwoopsie! you haven't realised that for emotional depth and growth to mean anything, you need there to be established development and well... growth. otherwise the sentiments are as vague as the ones expressed in What Do You Want, Paul?

this show has genuine emotional moments, just not really during the musical numbers WITH EXCEPTIONS. any strife is smoothed over quickly, and so the development and change that would have to go into such growth is just gone. (see, You Tied Up My Heart) all so it can achieve its own desire to grow and grow and grow, maybe a metaphor for art being killed under late stage capitalism??

what actually matters is the impact the songs have afterwards, in causing a death - because we have a bond and care abt these characters. those short scenes between Paul and Emma are actually way more resonant than any song. except... inevitable, and also not your seed a bit. at this point the hive has learnt a thing or two, and can actually twist human emotion a little. but for it to do that, it has to reject the uniformity it prizes, and be adaptable. point towards being more human than it first thought? methinks so. and yet it's just not enough...

it's also why let it out, to me, feels really ingenuine. Paul has expressed himself in much better ways already. what they're doing is clearly paining him, and hurting the guy. he's terrified bless.

you can't force someone into being emotional vulnerable, man.

it's why all the deaths for the characters who are forced to express themselves are really violent, involving them being ripped open - literally forcing them to expose themselves from the 'inside out' as Alice reflects in Not Your Seed. you can't force genuine emotional connection, it has to be fostered, shown in the much more affecting relationship of Paul and Emma. the only reason the hive actually has power over our characters is because of these genuine emotional connections, which it tries and often fails to take advantage of, resulting in just resorting to brute violence. messy hive, very messy.

at the core, the musical's a kinda attack on that toxic positivity mindst: trying to force people to reach the sort of easy solutions by sharing feelings in a way that feels pretty invasive and deciding you are instantly fixed. the problems these characters face are jarringly not really what you'd expect a character in a musical to face, cheating, a lot of it, mid-life crisis. problems that are bland, or wayyyy too real. this is purposefully done, to reveal just how silly the hive's aim to use musical theatre to solve everyone's problem is. life is more complex than that smh.

4. a human can write a much more expressive, and genuine song than they ever could lol

u know which song I'm talking abt. what more is there to say. so much for making persuasive songs to tempt people over.

5. make me sad cause they took some perfectly nice ppl and funked them up 😭

this was a stupid point lol. basically I'm just bitter that this hive took a bunch of perfectly okay ppl and gave them hive brain. screw u hive. I swear I'm gonna watch Black Friday soon, cause I'm sure it's gonna completely destroy every thought I've had so far, but whateve,,, just take this as a look at tgwdlm like it's a stand-alone piece.

these guys are supposed to all be 'individuals' on one level, but also 'appendages of a much larger organism'. there's a little too much individualism and fracturing to be cohesive enough to do that I feel. the hive to me is not an infallible, unstoppable force, in fact, every human it takes over only brings it closer to understanding us. so that's maybe a slight positive note??? idk ?! I just have lots of thoughts and feelings abt this musical even if this doesn't make sense I'm proud i wrote it down hehe.

[babbushka]

OH!! thank u for this wonderful double sinday dearest mrs z!! i’m in love with content based around younger mob!kylo,,,, any thoughts™️ on him + his to-be wife when they were at uni together ??? all that “studying” with someone who takes all ur classes is just so fortunate 😌 thank u!!

He isn’t actually in all your classes, contrary to what some might think. When you and Kylo graduate high school and begin applying to different colleges, he makes sure to go to the same one you choose, but you’re in different majors, that way in life you can both bring something unique to the family business. 

He majors in financial economics with a special focus in business management, and you’re in the drama and theater arts. For your graduate programs you both go into law, but when you’re in your early twenties and trying to ~find yourselves~ those are the paths you go down. 

Kylo walks you to all your classes, all of them. He carries all your books and holds open all the doors for you. People know who you are, they’d have to be morons to not know, you both come from such influential and infamous families, so generally they stay out of your way. 

Kylo takes studying very very seriously, also contrary to what some might think. School costs a fucking fortune and he’s not here to screw around -- there’ll be plenty of time for that later. When he joins you at the library late at night, it really is to study, to help you prep for exams and papers and presentations. 

Not that you need the help, you’re more than capable on your own, but you just like spending time together. You like cozying up in one of the study corners, your head on his lap as you hold your books in front of your face and read aloud history, while he cars his fingers through your hair. 

And you help him too, you motivate him with chaste kisses when he gets his flash cards right, when he can rattle off policy and history and theory, knowing it like the back of his hand. 

College parties are a little dicey -- on the one hand, you both get invited to a lot because you’re both incredibly attractive and everyone in your classes want to be your friend. But on the other hand, everyone is absolutely fucking terrified of Kylo. He hasn’t actually done anything to make them fear him, but they know the rumors, they hear the gossip, and he generally looks 2 seconds away from murder at any given moment. 

On the whole, you have an enjoyable time at uni. You don’t have to bribe anyone or blackmail any professors for good grades, you’re both very hard working and smart and it reflects in your GPA. You stick to yourselves for the most part, but that’s okay, you’re in college to learn after all. 

And when you’re both in grad school and Kylo rents his first apartment so you two can move in together and not have to worry about curfew or hiding away to kiss in the library, you can’t help but smile all the time, because you’ve got everything you could need to start building up this business, your family name, and your love for the whole of the underground crime community to see.

[icharchivist]

Thank you for answering the previous asks and hope you're prepared!

How much, out of ten, are you of each winter troupe member?

Have a good day :3c

ahah thank you for doing that all the way!

and oh boy i thought i was prepared but turns out-

okay notewise.:

Tsumugi: 7/10, Tasuku: 3/10, Homare: 4/10 Hisoka: 9.5/10, Azuma: 10/10, Guy: 6/10

(if you're supprised Azuma is actually my ultimate kin and it's not Hisoka: congratz i fooled all of u. the only reason i don't have an Azuma icon is that i genuinely think he looks too sexy in some arts and it doesn't feel Me despite everything else. The more u know.)

And. i need to warn that i went much more into personal details for Hisoka and Azuma under the cut to the point where it may be overwhelming. And that Azuma's entry alone is 2.1k words long. What the fuck me.

Relating to team "we have so much trauma" is going to be so much fun.

coughs, anyway take care :3c

(Links: Spring, Summer, Autumn , Winter ranking)

Winter my beloved, this is going to be a normal, non emotional ranking at all.

Tsumugi: 7/10 I relate to his lack of confidence, and the way he gave up on everything he loved when his spirit was crushed (re what I was talking about with my Kumon rant). On my down time I did study a bit of psychology and though I wouldn’t put myself at the same level as a psy student I’m often told I read people mostly in an accurate way so I can relate to that. I can use my powers for Evil like nudging people in some direction or knowing where to attack, but I am super aware of that and I’ve been extra conscious about not having it happen again for over ten years now DLKFJDLF (Azuma is kinda like that too). But yeah the fact he is like that too makes it relatable.

I also think that the whole “feeling you fucked up and took all the responsibility when a friendship broke apart” is also something very relatable. So is “ghosting your friends after that”. I relate to the fact he’s a nerd too. I relate to him more than not but I guess I just removed points because of how while I relate to specificities the whole thing doesn’t connect as much as it could?

Tasuku: 3/10 he’s probably the one I relate the least to. I honestly didn’t understand Tasuku much until Nocturnality on my first read, and it’s only then that things clicked. Legit I saw him the way Azuma saw him dLKFJDKFJDF. But I do feel it relatable that he feels responsible for failing his friend and that he took it upon himself to try to read more into how people are behaving to try to prevent it from happening again. But else he’s. genuinely not like me KDJFKLDFJDFL

Homare: 4/10 mhmm. I think I relate to the way he is passionate and how much he genuinely loves. I also relate to the fact he is pretty analytic, though the details of what makes his struggles are not something I relate to easily. I have felt broken before, I was told i was broken or unfit in some ways, so this particular pain is something I completely understand. I also did use to be an artist and a writer so I can relate to that passion of his, although as I mentioned in others ranking *shrugs*. That said he’s very much more exuberant and confident than I am and I would assume I know how to deal with people emotionally a bit more.

Hisoka: 9.5/10 oh boy where to start. This is going to be a tough one to get into without getting extremely personal. To start with, I’m a sleepy baby. I sleep a lot DLKJFDF though not much at night. I used to fall asleep in class all the time my friends had to always be on the watch out for me. I don’t have much energies. I love plushy and I love being comfortable in some places. I also really love sweets tho not as much as him. I also do care ways too much for my specific plushies and pillows (I do have huge penguins plushies too).

I, too, have memories issues, though of course to a lesser extend. I have a lot of trauma and for a lot of them I ended up getting fuzzy memories. I used to be in a pretty toxic environment where I constantly had to make use of my memory to survive, and so when my memory started failing me, I was terrified. My parents gaslight me all the time and pretends a lot of things that happened didn’t happen and that I’m crazy for believing it happened, so the moment my memory started to fail me I started to panic a lot. It terrified me to not being completely sure whenever I could trust myself or not. It made me feel extremely unreliable. It’s still something I struggle with a lot.

This would have been my answer pre-awakening moon at least. I always related to him to some degree so Awakening moon was a slap in the face in a way I wasn’t ready to deal with, and this is where I have to be uncomfortably personal.

I am the youngest sibling of 3. My eldest sister ran away from home when I was 6, never to be seen again. My other sister resented me because I used to be very close to the eldest and she was jealous about it, and while the reasons were linked to our parents, who were extremely toxic to us and kept us into this toxic environment for years on end, my sister took all her anger out on me. While we’ve discussed it as adults now, our relationships is too strained to fix it nowadays.

It took me a long while – it took me Azuma’s arc actually – to realize that the way I feel for my eldest sister is more akin to grief than to abandon. I don’t even remember her. I don’t remember her and still apparently the way I was close to her was the reason my sibling hold it against me. I couldn’t even remember *why* my sister was mad at me because I don’t even remember being close to my sister that much. All I know is that she left because the situation at home was too toxic. It was.. so messy.

I have. Much more trauma linked to that specifically but that’s the root of something that hit me in the face with Hisoka’s arc. Because I can’t remember a person that disappeared from my life, and yet it was enough for it to break and shape everything I’ve lived through since. I couldn’t even start to talk about how it still impacts me now 20 years later. I’m just now making peace with the fact this was grief. This is the gist of the reason Hisoka’s arc hit me as hard as it did (and the fact that Chikage is actively undoing all the bad things his own grief pushed him to do on Hisoka is the reason Chikage is so compelling to me. My sister could never lol.).

I felt also that I had to take all the responsibilities for what happened. I felt like I could make things easier for the family after this trauma, at the rip age of 7, and no one stopped to think maybe a child shouldn’t have to be dealing with a collective family trauma like this. But well. Here we are.

I relate to the fact Hisoka also struggles to accept everything that happened. And that now he’s trying to make things better for others people he can relate to. It’s so… complicated.

Also I can’t forget the fact Hisoka tried to kill himself and :/ as someone who has had a lot of suicidal idealization in my life this really hit a lot harder than it should have.

In general I would just say that socially I’m not really like him except with people I’m comfortable with teasing. Hisoka can be a little too rude and it’s where I can’t relate lol. But otherwise man I care him so much I feel so seen. I’m just removing 0.5 points for that and I don’t give him full mark because of what I’ll explain next.

Azuma: 10/10 This one is going to be a trip. It’s about twice the length of the Hisoka’s rant. Mister took me by the throat too. As I think it’s clear now I cannot relate to the fact he genuinely loved his family and how much his family cared for him. Yet I relate… to about everything else.

On the surface I do think I seem more approachable and easy to talk with. I try to be the kindest person I can be, to not be judgmental. I’m conflict avoidant, just like he can be, and if I’m annoyed with someone I’m muuuuch more likely to use passive aggressiveness like he does with Tasuku when he’s pissed at him. (sidenote: I do find it funny that Tasuku was the only character I really felt I didn’t get until Nocturnality, while Azuma was having the exact same problem, and then he became one of my fav the moment it clicked. Azuma is my braincell.)

More often than not, there’s a smile on my face and I try to be soft in the way I can be. I’m generally pretty calm, I’ve been told I was soothing, or give good hugs, this sort of stuff.

Now onto the heavy stuff.

I have a lot of nightmares and night terrors linked to a lot of my traumas. I’m honestly scared sometimes to go to sleep ^^”. But in general, if Hisoka reflects a lot of a personal trauma and how it would personally affect me, Azuma reflects a lot on how I would behave with others people in general and especially when I’m unwell. I’ve coped most of my life with, everything that happened to me, by just. Trying to keep people at armlength. I don’t want to let people close to me, especially irl. Discussing all of that online gives me a distance that allows me to discuss it but, I remember in high school I was going through very bad things, and a few years later I was hanging out with a friend and I happened to open up about those things. And she was going livid because, she had known me for what, 6 years at that point? And she never knew any of this. We talked a lot then, we were close, but she never knew all those things about me until years later. It kinda scared her because to her I was always a sweet and cheerful person and she never expected that I was doing this badly. I remember then she brought up something we discussed back in a party with many of our others friends from high school and similarly they were all. “how did we never know any of this.”. Seeing Azuma in Nocturnality kinda brought me back to that convo tbh LKDJFLKDFJFD.

But I’m good at pretending I’m closer to people than they think. I’m an excellent listener. A lot of my friends tended to rely on me as the person they could talk about their problems to. I used to do it much more back then but I also used to pour a lot of energy trying to make it easier for people, solving their problems. Full on Therapist Friend:tm:. It does help that, as I said with Tsumu, I have basis in psychology so sometimes some observations I can make help much more than expected. Just like Azu tbh lol.

Oh also I am cuddly with my friends in general. I’m super touch starved but also to the point I feel uncomfortable to seek hugs because I just don’t get any on a normal basis and my body isn’t used, but I’m super cuddly and when I’m with my closest friends I’m like a koala.

And it gives people the impression to people that I’m very close to them because I know them well, and I know the ins and outs of why they behave the way they do. But. I kinda feel like it’s one sided more than not. And it’s all because of me, because I keep my walls up very high and it means people don’t generally expect that I’m hiding things.

I’m good at distracting too. I don’t relate to how flirty Azuma is but I keep seeing it as him distracting others. It’s flattering, and just embarrassing enough that the person ends up dropping whatever they may be pressing on Azuma to talk about. And, while not with flirting, I do that a lot, especially using compliments like that. (That said my kindness or teasing has been misinterpreted as flirting before DLKFJDLKF I’m trying to be extra conscious about not having that misunderstanding happen nowadays but man it happened a lot).

Azuma knows a lot of people, and has been supporting a lot of people, but he doesn’t let people in as much.

And a lot of it is linked to his own sense of grief. Of the fact he has lost so much he can’t afford to go through the pain of losing something again, so he distances himself from it before it can hurt. And I do that a lot.

I mentioned in the previous rant but it’s seeing Azuma’s arc that made me understand how much it’s more grief than abandon that makes it so hard for me to move on. And a part of me kinda just. Grieves the family I could never have, the normal life I wish I could have lived and clang too all of my life. When Azuma told Guy “I was always so lonely. Everyone had families they could take for granted but I had no one.” Oh my god it destroyed me. And how he mentions just afterward that while he has new people to rely on, it couldn’t change the fact he was still feeling this pain of losing his family and it just. Man. Might be crying right now.

It’s like… I think the reason I especially related to that is that, in therapy I’ve often discussed my problems in the lenses of neglect and abandon but the problem with that lenses is that, at least with the therapists I had, they tend to focus on the fact that therefore I /must/ be still yearning for them to change and turn around, like I could change something. But I don’t. I was resigned at some point. And it’s really only when I read that that I felt this exact resignation I have been feeling all that time. I think I mentioned once how reading a3 felt like going one step toward recovery I didn’t know I could get and this was exactly the scene I meant. It legit took a weight off my heart that i've been carrying for decades. It was the strangest feeling in the world.

Anyway more in general too, on top of keeping people at distance, I am also a pro at “suddenly disappearing/ghosting when I get too close and/or have a relapse”. When Azuma starts to pull his relapses like we see in Nocturnality, I see myself. Legit had a friend who read a3 who called me out about that DLKJFDKLFJ. Acting weird like this, closing yourself in like this, coming back to some harmful coping mechanism as a way to connect back with your own self, those are all things I do. And it sucks. Like. The things I put my friends though sucks. But I really can’t help it sometimes.

I’m good at listening and observing, I’m generally good at picking up why people act a certain way, but I’m still very distant. I do everything I can to pretend I’m not distant and generally it fakes an idea of intimacy that I don’t specifically see as such.

And I see all of that in Azuma in ways that are terrifyingly relatable. Another thing Azuma says in this convo with Guy, about how “Everytime I would go to sleep, I would wish the morning would never come” me. Mood. Holy shit. Feel seen. I hate it. Just in general though the way he talks about morning as this terrifying thing is me. Between the night terrors and the fact morning genuinely makes me feel horrible, that’s kinda why I end up oversleeping until the afternoon DLKFJDF Azuma my lord I feel you.

Because of my nightly panic attacks I do try to come up with ways around it mainly by drinking some relaxing tisanes and stuff. Oh and I did have a huge period in life where I HATED being in the sun, and I fucked over all of my melanin because of that. as a kid I would tan very easily, but now the sun hates me as much as I used to hate it. So when Azuma is a drama queen about not wanting to stay in the UV too much I’m just like. How dare you pull out a mirror on me I didn’t ask for this. (also I have been called a vampire by people esp when I was a teen but that’s just how people called edgelords like me. Still. Reo my beloved.)

There is honestly so many little things with Azuma that reminds me of myself like this that it makes me go nuts. If Hisoka is who I relate to in term of specific trauma and how I cope personally, Azuma is more like, the direct physical impact of my trauma on me and the way it makes me relate to others people, as well as just every little behaviors here and there that are just so specific.

One of the only thing I really don’t relate to Azuma about is his love for Alcohol but I think if you replace it with like, my addiction to juice it works out the same.

Oh and, that’s a stupid but funny thing to me, I project hard on how much the reason he keeps his hair long is a form of mental stability for him, because I legit keep my hair long for my own mental stability. I have tied ways too much of my recovery process to my hair that when I see Azuma coping with grief with his hairstyle and how almost cutting it would be him spiraling down, I felt seen.

also i have 0 stamina just like him.

ANOTHER THING is also the fact Azuma is genuinely yearning for connections with people but he spent so much of his life keeping people away that as much as he’s yearning for it, it takes him so long to be able to lower those walls because he’s been so used to keep people away that he can’t reply to this yearning. And the way how, once he actually ends up feeling this bit of vulnerability toward people, he would suddenly shut in like it suddenly scares him? Mood.

One last thing (i promise) (i think) is that, if it wasn't obvious from all my ranting.... So much of myself and the way i view myself is defined by my trauma. I struggle to exactly come to term with my identity in any shape or form that isn't deeply related to my trauma. Even if you asked me what my sexuality is (please don't), my actual answer would be completely shaped by the fact i have so much trauma linked to sexuality, romance and gender, that i don't want to process it at all and can't actually manage to "fit the boxes" because i cannot see myself as something else than my trauma, or explain my feelings without linking it to my trauma. Honestly at times i find it kinda cringeworthy from me because i really, really can't tell about anything about my identity without thinking of my various traumas (i talked about a few of them in those rankings but it's not even the tip of the iceberg for a lot of stuff.) And when i see the way Azuma is in particular, maybe i'm projecting, but i feel like a lot of it is the same. Like not processing his age because if he does it reminds him of how he outlived those he loved (which is an headcanon but com'on.) or how even his hair is linked to his trauma. Or how he doesn't drive because it's linked to his trauma. I feel SO seen.

If it wasn’t for the fact he genuinely loved and was loved by his family, I would have felt exactly the same about everything regarding him.

But I still give him a full mark because the way Azuma’s arc has affected me is beyond any possible words I could use. And also because I legit wrote above 2100 words just on how much I related to Azuma ALONE. Even Hisoka took me 800 WORDS. HELLO. Guy: 6/10 Back to general coping here, Guy isn’t exactly relatable to me except in well. For exemple the ways the others relate to him, especially Hisoka and Azuma. So his memory loss to cope with intense family trauma is relatable to me, the way he can have nightmares and night terrors is also hella relatable to me.

But something that’s more Guy that I relate to is the whole “Step dad kept talking down on him and verbally abusing him until Guy basically completely closed himself in” because man. I won’t elaborate but I’ve really felt from reading that verbal abuse the same way I felt thinking back to how my ex-step dad used to talk to me. It made me so angry on his behalf. And the way he internalized it to cope was something deeply relatable.

Another thing with Guy is the fact that Guy did genuinely believes himself inhuman and tbh there was a time when I was very young where I would catch myself unable to feel a bit of humanity mostly from how I kept shutting myself in. (The reason I don’t relate to it with Homare is that this “inhumanity” was never actually there even if Homare did believe in it. But for Guy he went the extra mile convincing himself to the point where he denied this humanity as far as possible in a self destructive way and :/).

SO YEAH Winter is like. Therapy for me. The problem with “Trauma: The Troupe” is that saying “I relate to the Winter troupe” means “I may have problems and so what.” And it sucks.

if you read that wordvomit, congratulation, was it worth it?

Take care!

[nyxyooni]

2020 Creator Wrap: Favorite Works

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (or so) favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works

Tagged by @i-like-plan-m, callan, why do u do this to me this year has not been my year haisbwiebajavakkakaja. n e ways

1. To Belong, To You

so this is my longest fic ever (it’s still not done tho). its also my first work in the mdzs/cql fandom. it started off as a joke and then sort of blew up? i still love it tho and recently i went back and revised/edited it (up until chapter 5) so that it flowed better. even tho its really self indulgent and doesn’t make much sense in some parts i do love it. i also have so many people supporting me, i love this fic and the love it brought me

2. Alice

OKAY. so u know how some people ship sizhui/jin ling? yeah well i don’t really see it? BUT you know what i do see?? jin ling/jingyi. so after looking for the tag and finding a surprising lack of fics i put my foot down and wrote something. it was fun. it’s also my second work in the fandom ha. again, really self indulgent and even if it doesn’t seem like it (because its mainly just smut) i wanted to write a more grown up and mature jingyi/jin ling dynamic. i’ll explore it more when i write another fic.

3. Heart-Shaped Box

now we move into a different fandom because im an army and im a slut of yoonkook and unhealthy/lovable relationships. so i wrote this. there were so many fucking twists i didnt know where it was going even tho I was the one writing it. it was also the first fic i got my first long comment on. i had actually planned to make it something sweet and non ship dynamic fic but it somehow ended up being what it was. the people who read it enjoyed it and i had so much fun writing it!

4. Remember Me, Even When You’ve Drowned (and decayed)

okay. so this is my second work in the voltron fandom, its a dying breed but also people need juice so i provided. my plans for this fic r a lot more serious than the other fics ive written. its been a while since i updated it but i like it. its got a darker theme, sort of like the one above but its plot is more complex, i have footnotes in my head for it and when i feel inspired i’ll continue it. it’s also a chance for me to be more realistic about a lot of things, especially culture wise. seeing as most people in the voltron show aren’t white. and as a person of color, a latina/hispanic, i wanted to give people in this fandom some actual hard facts when it comes to lanitx/hispanics who grew up or are born in the u.s.a. its mostly from my point of view and research but there should some solid things about it. as well as mental illness because i don’t really like how some people write anxious or “meek” people, since im a person who doesn’t talk a lot i don’t like it when people write it as a personality trait or something that’s applied to a sex dynamic.

5. kill it (before it kills me)

LISTEN. this is the peak of all my fucked up fantasies. its a bjyx work. do u have any idea how much fucked research i did on torture???? i have notes!!!1!1! like irl fucking nOTES. also ✨murder husbands✨ i also love this fic because i love exploring the darker part of my one brain, most of the things that will happen in this fic are manifistions of my intrusive thoughts. i also love exploring the “right” and “wrong” side of morals and how humans interpret that and the way the decide which is which. it’s started off a joke, again, but while working on the second and third chapters it became more heavy, i’ll be taking it as far as i can, as im not the best when it comes to writing my own thoughts. there’s also sex and more sex :).

tbh. a lot of these fics have sex in them. 4/5 have sex in them :))))) and a lot of them are...... questionable...... anywho i’ll tag @corzev and @sunflowergalaxy-hide also @scribespirare

[pinkpeonyprincessblog]

Deliverance| A Werewolf Shawn AU

Part Two

In my dream I was running, running as fast as I could and yet the wolves that were chasing me were only gaining on me.

I knew that I only had a matter of seconds before it was all over, before I was dead and so I welcomed the wolf as he lunged forward to kill me.

...

I woke with a start, breathing heavily as I looked around realising that I was safe, I wasi n Shawn's room still, but it was light out now, morning light reflecting like diamonds off the lake in the distance.

There was a soft knock at the door, causing me to jump before Shawn appeared dressed in a t-shirt,and track pants, his feet bare.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he apologized, coming to sit at the end of he bed. "Are you okay?I heard you whimpering in your sleep,"

I nodded, still half asleep. "I'm good, bad dream I guess," I shrugged, not wanting to go into it anymore.

"You can go back to sleep for a while, it's still early and I have a few things I need to do with the pack before the day starts," Shawn offered with a soft smile. I turned looking at the cosy hole of pillows and blankets I'd left.

"Thank you, I murmured, stiffling a yawn.

"Sleep well Pup," he spoke getting up and leaving the room, closing the door softly behind him.i Kay there from a while, just watching the world out the window, just this simple act felt so luxurious, the mountains, everything was so pretty, so green, so vibrant compared to my old life.

How different my life was now I thought as I shut my eyes and drifted off again.

When I woke again, I could tell several hours had past from the angle of the sun, and the fact that I was no longer fighting the urge to sleep.I sat up and stretched,before getting up and heading to the door. I had no idea where I was going, but I was hungry and I had this weird yearning to be near Shawn. It made me uneasy after everything that had happened to me that I needed someone, especially a male so much, but I couldn't deny the feeling I was having, maybe it was something to do with this mate connection that Shawn had been taking about?

I made my way through the house, heading down corridor after corridor,down several staircases and into finally into a massive living room with several oversized couches and a fire place.

"Lucy?" I turned at the sound of the familiar female voice. Karla, was standing at the other side of the room watching me inquisitively."Are you okay?"she asked, making her way towards me.

"You know my name?" I asked surprised.

"Shawn told us," she smiled registering the confusion which I felt. "What are you doing up?"

"I woke up and Shawn wasn't in his room, I came to find him," I explained, still somewhat distracted by the sheer size and grnadure of the room.

"He's in the kitchen making you breakfast, he loves to cook. I'll show you the way if you want," she offered.

I nodded and she took my hand without hesitation, leading me through an archway which opened out into the kitchen. Like the living room before, he kitchen too was huge, a massive marble island taking up the centre part of the space,several stoves and counters, Karla smiled and left.

"Morning Pup, sleep well? Shawn asked when he spotted me standing there, coming over and laying a ghost kiss on my temple." Sorry I shouldn't have done that," he frowned.

"It's okay. It feels nice," I smiled, he beamed back. "It'll just take some time for me to get used to everyday things again." I was saying it more to my self than him. But he answered.

"We've got nothing but time, however to fill that time how about we eat, you need nutrients Pup. What do you like to eat?"

It was a simple enough question, but it had been so long since I had been asked it, that I didn't know how to respond.

"How about pancakes and fruit?" he asked, helping me out.

I nodded, thankful I didn't have to make a decision for myself.

"Want to watch?" he asked.

"Yes please."

He nodded "Since your so short, how about you sit on the bench?" he suggested.

"How am I meant to get up there?" I asked eying the jump, there was no way in hell that I'd be able to make it on my own.

"Can I help you?" he asked coming to stand in front of me. I nodded, still a little unsure. "I'm going to lift you okay?" he checked.

I nodded again and he placed his hands on my waist and lifted me with ease onto the bench.

"Ever made pancakes before?" he asked reaching above him to the hooks which held a bunch for saucepans, grabbing one down.

"Yes, but not in a long time, not since-" I stopped shuddering as memories flooded back.

"Do you want to stir the batter?" he asked, breaking me free of the silent torture.

We went about the process quietly, I was greatful for that, because I still wasn't feeling particularly verbose. Not used to being allowed to talk, let alone anyone actually being interested in heat u had to say.

When the food was ready he helped me down off the bench and led me back the way I'd come and out onto a secluded balcony overlooking the sound. It was stunning the morning sun reflecting like one big dimond off the water, the sound of birds and the breese filling the air.

"How come we haven't seen any of the pack, except for Karla?" I asked as I sat down.

" Because this part of the house is only for the Alpha and his immediate superiors," he answered, taking a bite of his food."Plus, I asked them to keep their distance, I figured you'd need some time to adjust."

"But Karla?", I stopped confused.

"Is my Beta Connor's mate," he explained.

"Oh,"

We lapsed back into a comfortable silence. giving me a chance to take a bite of my own food. It was hands down the most delicious thing I'd ever eaten, and I was overcome by a hunger I didn't know I had in me, finishing my plate miles ahead of Shawn.

"You still hungry Pup?" he asked looking over at my now empty plate with a smile.

I shook my head no, smiling back at him, I was fuller than I could ever remember.

I sat watching the sound for a while as Shawn finished his pancakes, but my peace was suddenly interrupted by an odd and unnerving sensation in my stomach, almost like nervous butterflies, but way more intense.

"Shawn," I panicked.

"What's wrong,?" he demanded, standing up and coming to squat in front of me, searching every inch of my face.

"The feeling?" I asked, desperately hoping he'd understand. "Like butterflies," I gasped as they ramped up when I grabbed his hand squeezing it as hard as I could. "What is it Shawn?" I asked again as I took in hus huge grin.

"It's your wolf Lucy." he let out a breath." I was so worried she was repressed for too long, but she's alive," he chocked on his words.

"Is that good?" I asked confused, still squeezing his hand.

"That's great, it means you'll be able to live like the rest of us, to change,to mate." I blushed at the last part.

"But why this feeling?"

"She's restless," he explained. "She knows she's in the presence of her mate, my wolf and she wants out. When youre well enough I'll teach you how to let her free," he added.

"Will it hurt?" I asked suddenly worried.

"It might be a bit uncomfortable the first time she takes over, it's kind of like having to share your head, your thoughts and feelings with someone else, but trust me, there's no better feeling than running free in the woods, your wolf able to do as they please without restriction.

I nodded, still not entirely sure, but I trusted him.

We sat just watching the water for a while, not needing to talk. It was strange to me, being able to just sit, not having rules to follow, people coming to use me for their own personal gain, not feeling pain. But it was also welcome.

"Are you ready to start the day?" Shawn asked, as he stood half an hour later, grabbing our plates off the table with one hand and holding his other out for me to take.

I nodded, standing up slowly,taking his hand, and following him inside.

"What are we doing today?" I asked as he dumped the plates in the sink bad led the way back to his room.

"What would you like to do today?" he asked as we stepped into his now familiar room once again.

I stood there,thinking. Again not used to having the freedom to make choices for myself.

"A few of the girls like to paint," he suggested as he rummaged around in his cupboard, pulling a pair of trainers out and sitting on the end of the bed to put them on. "I could get you some paints or different art supplies if you like, or you could read, we could even go for a shirt walk around the grounds of you're feeling up to it later," he added with a smile coming over to stand in front of me.

"I'd like to paint?" It came out as more of a question, but he nodded.

"I'll get you the stuff you need," he murmured, placing another soft kiss against my forehead,causing me to all but melt into him. I couldn't get over the way he made me feel. It was like everything in my head told me to keep my distance, to stay clear, to protect myself. But my body and heart were saying the opposite- wanting nothing more than to be as close as possible to this man, it was almost as if my body needed the physical contact with Shawn to function now. It wasn't that that was a bad thing, it was just such a change from two days earlier when I would have done everything in my power to stay clear of any and all males.

"How about you have a shower, get ready for the day, I'll go and do what I need to do- check in on the younger ones, do a perimeter run and then we can go to the pack meeting together?" he suggested, moving around me to pull a towel and a new oversized hoodie off his dresser which I hadn't even realised was there.

The first 10 minutes of the shower were heavenly,the hot water helping to unknot my still aching muscles,the steam clearing my senses, but as I relaxed into it, listening to the sound of the water beating down on the tiled floor my mind started to wonder, and soon I was feeling anything but comfort.

I could feel the familiar rush of adrenaline,the way my hands and feet went slightly numb and shaky, my chest heaving as I gasped for air, collapsing in a heap in the corner of the shower, head against the damp wall as image after image of my old life haunted me.

I sat there for what felt like forever, the water drowning out my pathetic attempts to choke back the sobs that were now wracking my tired body.

"Lucy, are you okay in there?" an alarmed voice spoke, slightly muffled by the door.

"Help, please, help me," I whispered,hoping that whoever it was would hear me.

"I'm coming in," the person spoke and a moment later the door to the shower was ripped open revealing Karla, a look of deep worry on her face.

"Lucy, what's the matter?"she asked, reaching in to turn the water off.

"Ca-can't breathe," I stuttered, holding my hand over my chest.

"Oh, God, here, I'm going to help you get out," she rushed out of the room, coming back moments later with another large towel."Can you stand up?"she asked watching me uncertainly.

"Think so," I nodded. She stepped into the shower wrapping the towel around me, before helping me carefully to my feet.I didn't even care at this point that she'd seen me without anything on, I was just desperate for this feeling to stop.

"Just take slow deep breaths," she encouraged with a soft smile as I made my way slowly to the bed. "Have you had panic attacks before she asked?" Sitting on the bed beside me,grabbing the sweater that Shawn had set aside for me and helping me to pull it over my head, instantly engolfing me with the warmth and scent of Shawn.

I nodded, still feeling extremely shaky.

"Do you think you'll be alright if I go and get Shawn?" she asked. "I promise it'll take me 2 seconds.I just think Shawn will be able to help you more than I can," she told me.

I nodded.I didn't want to be left alone, but I wanted Shawn more.

She left in a hurry, looking over her shoulder at me with pity.

As I sat and waited, I tried to stay calm, but my the time the door opened again, I was once again struggling to breathe, my chest heaving.

"Oh, Pup, what's the matter?" Shawn asked coming to sit next to me as Karla had, before laying a very gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Don't know, just feel scared," I shrugged, not looking up at him. I hated the idea that he was seeing me so vulnerable.

"Lucy, honey, can you look at me," his voice was barely a whisper.

I looked up reluctantly, knowing that he'd be able to see the tears, not yet dried in my cheeks, the puffy redness under my eyes nodoubt making me look like a chipmunk.

"We're going to do some grounding excercises okay," he smiled softly. "Take a big breath in, and I want you to hold it until I count to 10."

I did as he,said, feeling my lungs expand with the air they so desperately needed.

"Good," he praised, and slowly breathe out through your mouth," he instructed."I'm going to lift you up okay?" he asked. I nodded, letting him know I was okay with it.

He lifted me quickly and easily, sitting me in his lap, not seeking to care about the fact that I still had dripping hair.i curled into him instinctively, as I hiccupped, my tears slowly slightly now, my chest just a little less tight.

"You're okay Lucy, I'm here, I've got you," he murmured, resting his chin on the top of my head.

"I'm sorry,"I croaked out, when after a few minutes neither of us had spoken.

"For what?" he asked, looking at me with confusion in his eyes.

"For me" I said, as if it should be obvious.

"Lucy, please don't apologise, none of this is your fault," he responded, rubbing soothing circles up and down my arms.

"I just feel useless sometimes," I admitted, more to myself than to him.

"You are anything but useless," he replied, "and to prove it," he added,"I'm going to take you to meet the pack,if you're up to it," he smiled. "They're all so excited to meet you, and we have a pack meeting dinner thing tonight so I thought it might be nice if you joined."

"Why if they don't like me?"I worried, ringing my hands nervously.

"They will trust me," he smiled again,shifting me off of his lap before standing up and holding his hand out for me to take, which I did gladly.

There were already several people waiting in the living room when we made it downstairs and I couldn't help but feel a little intimidated at the thought of all these new people.

Shawn squeezed my hand reassuringly as he lead me to a large armchair where he sat, before pulling me down to sit on his lap without seemingly a second thought.

"Everyone," this is Lucy," Shawn introduced. "This is Dave, Brian, Connor, you know Karla," she shot me a warm smile "Beth and Angie," Shawn pointed them out one by one. They all smiled warmly, waving at me.

"So what's on the agenda for tonight?" Connor, I assumed from the way Karla was snuggled into his side much like I was with Shawn, asked.

"We need to be putting protective measures into place, since Lucy's been here other packs are getting restless, and given the circumstances, I don't want to take any risks."

The others nodded in silent agreement before Shawn went on.

"When I found Lucy-" he paused to look at me, shaking his head, " she was mere moments from having her life cut short, it was just lucky, I happened to be doing a run of the grounds, it who knows what would have happened," he trailed off. I felt myself shudder and Shawn's arms tighten around me ever so slightly as we simultaneously re- lived those horrific few seconds.

"You know we're all behind you man," someone else spoke up, causing everyone to nod.

"Thank you," Shawn replied sincerely, "At this stage there have only been a two attempts at breaches, don't seem bold enough to actually enter our lands, but they're hanging around the fringe,getting more game everyday," he frowned as he spoke.

At this point I chose to time out the conversation, sometimes ignorance was bliss and I already had enough on my mind without fretting about what was going on around me too much.

As wesat on the sofa hours later, cuddled up as the television played re-runs of friends couldn't help but voice my fears.

"Am,am I safe?" I asked nervously,looking up at Shawn who was half dozing, arms wrapped lazily around me.

He sat up slightly, stretching before resting his hands on either side if my face affectionately,

"We're doing everything we can to protect you," he spoke fiercly, reaching for my hand and squeezing gently."You are my life now," he added,pulling me protectively into his embrace again. For the first time in a long time,the sense of fear that was ever-present disappated somewhat, and I felt safe knowing that regardless of what happened I had Shawn,I had a home and I had a family.

[bloopbyoop]

weep woop

ayo. ive read my scheduled email and its time for freewriting shit again. lmao. I want this post to be like a small light from a lit match stick inside a very hollow, icy, and numbing cave. (sounds cartoonish right? I know. Im obsessed with Adventure Time.) I want all people to be genuinely happy.  Spiritually, emotionally, and physically. Upon reaching my 24th anniversary in this world, I finally learned how to truly embrace all my emotions. Some are more overwhelming than the other, but we have to heed in our treacherous yet perplexing minds that everything is fleeting and we are in control. The feeling of extreme sadness fades, but so does joyful states. Everything can change in a matter of minutes or years. You are in control of all your emotions. You are in control of all your life choices. Your actions. Your words. Your perspective. It feels weird to actually write about it. I've wanted to talk about it. I never wanted help from anyone as I firmly believed that I was alone. Sure, I have a family and friends, but it is hard to see that when your head is clouded with negativity. I've even come to the point where I was too overwhelmed, I found being physically hurt less painful. The pain I felt distracted me from what I was thinking. My mind tended to go bonkers. lmao. But bro, I was so good at concealing my bonkers mind. It's easy to fake any emotion that you have. Slap anything sunshine-y or happy to anything and people would believe you. It went on for years. Long story short, thousands of bracelets collected, it became worse. The physical pain could no longer withhold the emotional pain. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't stop thinking. And voila! I found a good amount of self help books (from tumblr) and novels. Novels that brought me to different places. Self-help books that made me understand what I feel and what to do. I've read that taking the easy way out will leave everyone sad. AND IN THE FIRST PLACEEEEEE, I NEVER WANT THATTTTTTT. I want everyone to be happy. I would act foolish and do dumb shit to make everyone happy in a heartbeat. So, that idea made me push a few more years. Later on, the crippling shit came crawling back again to my head, sooooooo I needed new shit to keep me distracted again. Films, series, music, and short clips from YouTube helped me out a lot. Every single time that my mind is going to think like anything that can think of, even to the point that I was just going to think that I might be hungry, I'd watch something. There's just something about silence for me. Because of this new habit of mine, I've learned more about myself. I love different types of things. I like horror. I like thriller. I like comedy. I like romance. I love all types of films, but there is something about the horror genre that interests me. I still can't point out what, but I love watching horror films. With regards to music, I've learned that I love Indie, Punk Rock, Rap, and Pop. We all can't like a specific genre. It's stupid to ask "what genre of music do you like?". It's not actually stupid-stupid, it's just stupid. Ya know? Anyway, passing this phase, I needed to find something again because it's not doing the shit that it was supposed to, I tried investing more time on video games. By investing more, I mean a whole shit lot. I love video games since I was young cuz.... u know.... they keep u... try to guess it! oh yeah. you got that right! distracted! I love the aggressive plays and trashtalks that my friends and I make. The short stories we tell one another. The rants. The lame jokes. The late night we sound drunk but we are not drunk jokes. The roleplays. The lame jokes. The memes. And once again, The lame jokes. Something about lame jokes and the laughs and curses after that always gets me every single time. Oh shoot. Yup Yup. Few years later, I finally noticed the pattern that my sadness is temporary. I got over it one way or the other (or another. depends on how you wanna read it. i dont wanna say another cause i might write about one direction like what im doing now so-). Happiness is temporary as well. But, we are the ones who are actually in control of our emotions. If you wanna feel sad, be sad for a while. You're getting too sad? Try hanging out with your funny friends. Can't do that? Find an alternative. Watch a movie, knit a sweater. Anything your mind could think of as long as it will keep you mentally distracted from being physically and mentally hurt. I do have a few notes though. We cannot and should never assume what people are going through. It may be petty for you, but it may be very crucial to them. So never everrrr say things like: -Some people have it worse than you -At least you have ..... These sheetsss are annoying as heckkk and could really down someone. I know it is not your intention to annoy but people react differently. alsooooooo, it is not okay or normal to hate on things for bandwagon. that is just plainly crazy and stupid. let people enjoy things. anddddddd never suppress your emotions. admit what you feel inside and try to think of a way to resolve ittttt. keeping it to yourself will just make it worseeeeee. find your own outlettttttttt. hihihi ️ alsooooo. being more spiritually full with God's words and ideas really help me to be spiritually happy. ps. im christian but i dont discredit other religion and even applaud other religion's ideas and beliefs. this is a really long, selfish post so i might as well recommend some things I like : Songs with their lyrics that made me go through life. “I’ve got soul but I’m not a soldier” -All These Things That I've Done, The Killers “It's not too late, I'm still right here” -Breaking Your Own Heart, Kelly Clarkson "And the salt in my wounds / Isn't burning any more than it used to / It's not that I don't feel the pain / It's just I'm not afraid of hurting anymore / And the blood in these veins / Isn't pumping any less than it ever has / And that's the hope I have / The only thing I know that's keeping me alive" -Last Hope, Paramore “There is not a single word in the whole world / That could describe the hurt / The dullest knife just sawing back and forth / And ripping through the softest skin there ever was / How were you to know?” -Hate to See Your Heartbreak, Paramore "It's holding on, though the road's long / And seeing light in the darkest things And when you stare at your reflection / Finally knowing who it is / I know that you'll thank God you did" -1800, Logic "Did some things you can't speak of / But at night you live it all again / You wouldn't be shattered on the floor now / If only you had seen what you know now then" -Innocent, Taylor Swift (My bb) "10 months sober, I must admit / Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it / 10 months older, I won't give in / Now that I'm clean I'm never gonna risk it // Rain came pouring down when I was drowning / That's when I could finally breathe / And by morning gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean" -Clean, Taylor Swift “I guess I always knew / That I had all the strength to make it through.” -Believe in Me, Demi Lovato "I'm addicted to the madness / I'm a daughter of the sadness / I've been here too many times before / Been abandoned and I'm scared now / I can't handle another fallout / I am fragile, just washed upon the shore / They forget me, don't see me / When they love me, they leave me" -I Hate You, Don’t Leave Me, Demi Lovato “I'm overwhelmed / I need a voice to echo / I need a light to take me home / I need a star to follow / I don't know” -Nightingale, Demi Lovato "I'm a walking travesty / But I'm smiling at everything. // Arrogant boy, Love yourself so no one has to." -Therapy, All Time Low "I tried it once before but I didn't get too far / I felt a lot of pain but it didn't stop my heart. / But maybe I'm alive 'cause I didn't really wanna die / But nothing very special ever happens in my life / Take the blade away from me I am a freak, I am afraid that / All the blood escaping me won't end the pain / And I'll be haunting all the lives that cared for me / I died to be the white ghost / Of the man that I was meant to be" -Ghost, Badflower "Are the pieces of you / In the pieces of me? / I'm just so scared / You're who I'll be / When I erupt / Just like you do / They look at me / Like I look at you" -DNA, Lia Marie Johnson Movies and series to try : -The Perks of Being a Wallflower (The book is bomb af. if yall havent tried, ur missing out) -The Kings of Summer -Never Let Me Go -The Art of Getting By -Silver Linings Playbook -Winter’s Bone -The Lovely Bones (The script. The words) -Me and Earl and the Dying Girl -American Horror Story -Black Swan

pps. remember that every one has their own pace and point of view. don’t push yourself too hard, and don’t overthink. give yourself time, and respect all your emotions. analyze them but not more than like 5 minutes as anything beyond that might cause you to overthink and be sadder. and sad is not rad. hehe. you got this. you got you. self love is the best even though it can be tricky to do. nobody else is like you. you’re the only one of you (i just remembered me.......... i might have hummed it while typing it mid sentence). consider other people’s opinion but do not let it cloud your own judgement as you know yourself best. dont let other comment’s define you. spread love. vibe people you vibe with. ayeeee lets go!!! 

ppps this is my last post bc im happier now and know myself better. i no longer limit myself on the age that I want. I want to live as long as how God wants me to be. hehe. 

x :D

[faintwalker]

for the artist asks!! the questions i wanna ask u are 1, 2, 7, 9, 10, 12, 15, 25, and 30 👌 ive never done any of these artist ask things before so im not sure if thats way too many questions so u can skip some if u like

Even more questions!  -wWw-  

(As I’ve already answered 1, 2, 7, 15, and 25 with the previous ask, I will skip over those, but let me know if you want an answer expanded upon!)  

So, it looks like I’m starting with:  

9. How much time do you spend drawing on an average day?  

I feel like I should say that, due to the pandemic, I feel like I didn’t pick up this hobby on a time of average days, so that may skew the data a bit.  On some days I don’t draw at all, for various reasons, or I only get a small doodle done.  Some days I draw for a few hours.  And some days I spend more time, sometimes even the majority of the day, working on art, usually when I’m afflicted with hyperfocus for a project.

So, an average day is probably more than one hour but less than five.  Maybe.  I can’t say I’m sure.  

10. Are you confident about your art?  

It depends, I think.  

Perhaps I should say I’m confident with where I’m at with my art, in many ways.  I’m still learning and growing as an artist, and there are many ways in which I hope to improve my abilities.  Some of my art has many mistakes, and certain pieces are uncomfortable to look at with how glaring the mistakes feel-- even some of these pieces are on my blog.  I try to avoid showing a strong lack of confidence when I don’t feel great about something, because really: 

The art I do is a hobby.  I don’t have to be perfect at it, all I have to do is find that it brings something worthwhile to my life.  

And so for me, drawing isn’t about being perfect.  If I was trying to convey a concept, did I convey the concept?  If I was trying to capture a certain feeling, do I feel it when I look upon the piece?  If I thought of something silly, does my art of it still make me want to laugh?  Sometimes art is about emotional processing or healing or fear.  Sometimes art is wanting to share something with someone else, hoping to brighten their day.  It’s a form of expression, and it can express all kinds of things.

(If my art is a love letter to something that matters to me in life, do I feel glad of the time I spent on it?)  

When I ask questions like this, I would say that I have confidence even if I have much to learn in the way of skill.  And I do think some of my skill is pretty decent, too!  I can have a lot to learn and still feel good with what I do now.  

Even if a piece is not my “best,” I will still often put it up so as to not corner myself into raising my own bar on what’s “good enough” to an impossible high.  To live like that is miserable for me.

(I grew up in a place where my worth was dependent on my abilities.  To draw and create without my art needing to be “good enough”-- needing to try for perfection on every piece when perfection itself is an abstract concept-- is a way in which I make myself freer.  And so my philosophy on art has perhaps become a strange one, but it gives me the strength to draw as I do.)  

(Sorry if my answer is odd and overly heavy!  I was trying to answer the question honestly, and this was the best way I could think to do it.)  

12. Is it okay for people to ask you about your process?  

Super okay!  If you’re curious about something, please feel free to ask!  

-wWw-  

(I already answered 15, but on some days when I do many little drawings, the time between posting can give an idea of how long they take!  I often post things soon after I draw them.  Not always, and some time is spent with taking the picture and formatting the post, but I did realize that sometimes when I draw many smaller things, I do them in a row!)  

30. What inspires you to not just make art, but to be a better artist?  

Many things, to be honest!  There are things I would like to convey better in my art, so that’s a big one.  Seeing other people’s art can be inspiring-- I can’t word it well at present, but the world is full of all this art and I find that to be wonderful.  Sometimes that makes me want to contribute too, partially out of appreciation.  I’d like to make things that other people can see and have feelings about.  I think that’d be pretty cool.  (It’s always super cool to hear when people like my art!  Makes me really happy.)  

On the contributing-- I like to make fanart.  It’s fun to be part of an online community of people who all like a certain thing and celebrate that in various ways, and seeing all that inspires me to put in effort when I can!  Thanks to all of the kind people who have been part of my positive fandom experience!

As I said earlier, art is a form of expression, and so part of it is wanting to express myself better.  

Below the cut I get dark and heavy.  This is your warning about that.

 To be personal for a moment again: I’ve survived through some really terrible things in life.  One of the things that helped me the most to get through that and to make it to the better place I’m in now, to keep me going on alright, is seeing reflections of pain similar to what I went through in fiction.  I don’t know anyone who lived through a situation like mine, and I’m happy about that, actually, because I don’t want people to suffer, but a fictional character can’t be hurt in the same way as a person can be, as they are a concept.  And it’s not easy to find characters with hurts very similar to my hurts actually dealing with them in a psychologically realistic or relatable way, but when I do find content with that, it matters so much to me.  It makes me feel like I’m not alone. 

If I can, I want to make something of the sort that I find helpful, in the hopes that it might help someone else too.  And that is the deepest heart of it-- helping myself and others.  

---  

Thank you for sending in the questions, jellyfish!  I hope the heavy answers are okay.

[pavcrti]

chicago’s very own pavarti kumari has been spotted on madison avenue driving a rose gold model x , welcome ! your resemblance to mishti rahman is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty fifth  birthday bash .  your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re fiery , but being eloquent might help you . i think being a pieces explains that .  3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be fresh fields of lavender that expand into a cotton candy sky , the reflection of the sun caught in the glimmer of a crystal , rhyming couplets professing deep - seeded emotion . ( i ghost write songs for artists who like to claim they write their own work . ) & ( cis female + she / her  ) +  ( emily , 25 , sher / her , pst )

holy shit , it’s ya girl . i’m back after needing a bit of a break from being in a group . and bc i honestly adored this place sm and i made so many great friends here i am back . . . 👀 i expect plots with each and every one of u btw so u best deliver . i desperately wanna get this finished before i pass the fuck out . i’ll be joining the server in the morning , but in the meantime if u wanna be my friend  👀 👀 titsiana praises satan#7989

    biography .

name : pavarti kumari 

age : twenty five

gender : cisfemale

zodiac : pieces 

sexuality : bisexual 

profession : singer / songwriter 

hair color : black

eye color : brown

piercings : both lobes , nose 

tattoos : none

voice claim : jhene aiko

released albums : sail out ( ep ) , trip 

miss pavarti was born in bangladesh . her parents are both 100% bangladeshi and immigrated to chicago when pavarti was four years old . she had an older brother who was five years older than her . his name was siva .her family traveled back every summer so she is very immersed in the culture of her homeland and is a very spiritual person as a result . from a young age , pavarti had a fascination with the english language . not only was it so complex , but there was so much that could be done with it as well . she loved poetry and different types of prose . she also developed an absolute adoration for hip hop as a result . she’s been able to work several of her lyrical inspirations in her albums , something she would’ve never anticipated growing up as an immigrant child . when she entered middle school , she joined the school choir as an extra curricular activity which is what inspired her love for music and introduced her to her vocal talents . within time , she began combining her inclination for poetry with her voice . she wrote her first song at thirteen and began to freestyle for her friends . unfortunately , she was never taken too seriously by her peers . she was a female , hardly the usual suspect for the rnb , soul vibe that her voice conveys . before she graduated high school , her brother siva was killed in a car crash . the unexpected death of her best friend and protector sent pavarti into a spiral . this begun her tendency to alter her reality to escape from her pain with the help of drugs . she frequently writes about her brother in her music . when she was eighteen , she was discovered , ironically , by a manager of a local rapper at a poetry slam she was performing at . she impressed him and he introduced her to his client . this is how pavarti entered the hip hop scene , albeit , in secret . in hip hop , it’s very custom for performers to write the tracks that they put out themselves . pavarti learned that she could learn the skills of the trade whilst making her own connections and making pretty good cash , as well . as the years progressed , the notoriety of her clients rose . she’s written bars for multiple big names and by harvesting these friendships , she was able to get signed to a record label and put out her first ep at age twenty one . it was well received by critics and pavarti was thrilled to be taken seriously as an artist doing what she loves . she kept working , kept her nose in her business and released her first full album , trip , just last year . she feels like she is constantly growing artistically and finds herself inspired everywhere she turns . she’s currently working on her second full album and just dropped a new single , p*$$y fairy . other than that , there’s not too much else to note in her history . she did not grow up rich , rather she’s only recently come into wealth . her money is very new and she’s not too skilled at spending it wisely .

    personality . 

okay , so this will probably just be a long winded explanation that no one really asked for / needed but here we go ! first and foremost . . . pavarti is a dreamer in every sense of the word . she’s whimsical , she’s connected to the earth around her . she drifts off into elaborate day dreams and tells herself stories in her head as she falls to sleep . she is very spiritual . she meditates twice a day . her house always smells of incense . she has an affinity for weed and hallucinogenics . she really enjoys writing under the influence . her album trip is literally inspired by several drug experiences she had that had a profound impact in her life . pavarti’s general demeanor is borderline wall - flower . you wouldn’t expect her to be so shy , but she is . she’s the giggly girl who’ll hang back and let someone else come to her first . in the meantime , she’s taking in every single detail . she’s incredibly observant . sometimes she thinks in poetry . she realizes that she isn’t the typical visual for a female hip hop , rnb artist but it’s truly her passion in life and her art flows through her . she says more in her songs than she does to the people she needs to and that can definitely be problematic . with that said , pavarti is very well spoken . girl knows how to sweet talk her way through just about anything . but she also has the temper of a devil . she does not tolerate being fucked around with . she has that attitude about her where she will go and key your car if you hurt her or one of her best friends . people typically wouldn’t expect such an explosion from someone so outwardly sanguine and easy going but she’s the type to scratch someone’s eyes out if she has to . her music is her spouse . this fucks her up relationship wise a lot because she tends to let chances pass her by because she would rather stay undistracted . she has an ego , but not really in the outward way that one would anticipate when ego is involved . she knows she’s talented . she knows she’s attractive . but she also knows that she’s fucking lucky to be where she is and she’s grateful . pavarti is the type who wakes up with a smile because she has another twenty four hours to be alive . she doesn’t take things for granted --- she used to , until she lost her older brother and she realized just how quickly things can change . pavarti is a fiercely loyal individual to her friends . she will stand up for them , no matter what . the thing is , she expects it back . she is very much aware of her self worth and does not react kindly to a one sided vibe . 

    plots . 

ok , ok , ok . . . so how i am going to do this is offer up some songs / song pairings for songs that i believe pavarti has written for specific people with certain plots in mind for at least her side of things . and then i will also list some basic plots that aren’t based on anything in particular , but are still plots that i would like very much to have ! the links go to lyrics ! all plots are gender neutral , so ignore any pronouns that are in the songs .

bed peace / stay ready / while we’re young --- fwbs with feelings : pavarti and your muse have been friends for a while . somewhere along the line things crossed the line and they began hooking up . it’s obvious that they feel something intense for each other but something is always in the way of them being together --- plus , neither are really sure if the friendship could withstand a romantic relationship crashing and burning . so here they are , stuck in this awkward limbo . they hook up , hang out , awkwardly third wheel when the other is dating someone else . it’s an interesting dynamic and pavarti wouldn’t deal with drama with anyone else but your muse . they have a really compelling bond and neither can think of life without the other but things have been like this for a long time and there is only so long a relationship as complicated as this one could actually function .

the worst / comfort inn ending / moments / when we love --- exes that ended badly with lingering feelings : this was . . . just a crazy hot and cold relationship . when it was hot , it was fucking hot . when it was cold ? damn . hell itself could freeze over . they probably have done and said a lot of nasty , nasty shit to each other . at the same time , they could’ve been literally planning their wedding at some point because they both were incredibly serious about each other . in comfort inn ending , pavarti suggests their relationship was a result of her cheating on another boyfriend to be with your muse and your muse ultimately cheated on her as well . we can discuss that but i would high key kill for the extra drama . around the time pavarti was writing her first full album , they had a rekindling that inspired her to write moments and when we love . i don’t envision this relationship having ended in a decent way from there , though . more cheating ? fighting ? they were definitely toxic . she’s definitely planning on dragging their ass some more in her tracks .

lsd / sativa --- platonic soulmates : omg so this plot is . . . so fucking cute . but these two would basically die for each other . there is zero sexual attraction , just genuine , pure love . they do everything together . but what really sealed their bond ? well . . . many different intense acid trips , of course ! they love to get high together and forget about the world . they both feel like they can trust the other because they have been present for so many life - changing moments . they rarely go a day without seeing each other and absolutely never go a day without talking in some capacity . sometimes they fight like siblings . but pavarti would honestly kill for your muse . there is nothing she wouldn’t do for them . 

new balance / newer balance / you are here / clear my mind --- the romantic bad influence : this plot is another messy piece of trash . from the beginning , when they first met , pavarti always thought your muse was too good to be true . they reminded her so much of her brother . she felt this sense of peace with your muse . she fell in love quickly but at the same time , felt like there was something looming over their relationship . like it wasn’t permanent . like it’s all just a dream . the bad influence part isn’t portrayed too much in the lyrics other than stressing pavarti’s fear that your muse isn’t exactly who they say they are and this relationship is doomed to fail somehow . she knows that when this explodes in her face that it’s going to destroy her . i see your muse bringing out edgier sides of pavarti’s personality . they party a lot , they influence pavarti to do crazy things with them and she does and she feels so alive with your muse . that is , until , it all crumbles . the facade is destroyed and whatever it was that your muse wasn’t being upfront about shatters the way she feels for your muse entirely . she feels betrayed . clear my mind is pavarti’s way of trying to hype herself up to be stronger than she really is . 

never call me / --- best friends turned enemies : this is my last long one i promise , wtf , why did i decide to do this . anyways --- this plot is again , a shit ton of angst so enjoy that . your muse and pavarti used to be the best of friends . inseparable . that is until things went south . fast . we can discuss what it was that happened between our muses but it was something huge and preferably something where they both could stubbornly blame each other . pavarti feels slighted because she thinks that your muse should be the one who reaches out and perhaps your muses could be thinking the same about her . 

romantic plots : crushes , unrequited love , hateship , party hookup , friends with benefits , secret fling , summer romance 

platonic plots : give me close friends ! and tons of them please ! thanks . roommates , drug buddies , confidants , unlikely friendship , travel friends , only friends in the dms , enemies turned friend

[gaylotusthatexists]

By The Sea

Virgil's life may be going downhill, but at least he still has his island and he still has the sea. However, when he meets a certain writer staying in the hotel he works at, it appears that something more important has arrived.

Roman's life seems to be going great, but he knows that soon all that may change. He has travelled to this island, along with this two best friends, to focus on his work, but when he meets a certain guy that he's sure he recognises, how can he focus on anything else?

And with only twelve days on the island together, will they be able to make it work?

Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality, Remile

Word Count: 24160

This was written for the @ts-storytime, and boi did it take a while so I hope that y'all enjoy this. The full fic has been posted onto my ao3 here. You can read the first chapter below but I’m not planning on posting the rest on Tumblr, unless any of y’all really want me too. 

@justisaisfine made some beautiful pieces of artwork for this fic which you can find here, seriously guys go follow them, their art is amazing.

As far as I'm aware, there isn't anything in this that would be particularly triggering, but if y'all spot anything please let me know and I'll put up a warning. At the very worst there is some negative thinking and crying, but it's mostly fluff honestly. It also contains Deceit, who could be viewed as sympathetic or morally-grey, honestly idk. 

There are some bits that are in Spanish and I would like to apologise in advance for the terrible Spanish, I used Google Translate which I don't really trust but I also don't speak Spanish so y'know. If any of y'all are Spanish-speaking and know a better translation, please let me know, I'd really appreciate it.

Anyway, I think that's all I have to say? Hope y'all enjoy it! I certainly enjoyed writing it, haha

<3

DAY ONE

00:09

The sea shimmered in the moonlight, thousands of stars reflecting off its gentle waves. Pulling his hoodie tighter around his body, the boy exhaled. This was his home, his true home - the sky and the ocean and the island. Sat here by the sea, he could feel the wind brushing past his cheeks and the water washing over his feet. He could have stayed there, in that single moment, forever and ever, and he'd never grow tired of the feeling.

But it was late and he had to get back to the apartment. He couldn't stay out here all night, not when he had to be up so early for work in the morning. Sure, the chances of him actually sleeping were slim, but it was better resting inside that out. And he needed rest to be ready for tomorrow.

Glancing up to the sky for one last look before returning to reality, he saw a flashing light moving across the black. All he could do was sigh. That would be a plane, filled with visitors. People who come to the island to catch sun or whatever they do. People who Virgil would have to deal with for a couple weeks before they exit stage left. People who probably won't even notice that Virgil had a life of his own.

But hey, they're also the people who pay the bills, so could Virgil really complain?

This was his life. He had to deal with idiots like that for a while, but at least he had this. He had his island, and he had the sea.

Virgil stood up and started the journey into his future.

6:00

A blaring alarm jolted Roman out of bed and, for a moment, all he wanted in life was death - not specifically his own.

"Who the hell set an alarm?" he groaned, sitting up and rubbing his forehead. The horrendous sound still rung out through the room, hammering into his skull, until it was finally cut off and Roman was able to breath.

"That would be me," Logan said, casually. He was already out of bed and heading into the bathroom. "We've got to get on if we want to get breakfast."

Roman sighed, closing his eyes again. "Logan. We're on holiday. We're supposed to be relaxing. Not getting up at six am."

Logan poked his head out the door. "The restaurant opens at seven, Roman."

"That doesn't mean we have to be there at seven," Roman argued, lying back down and pulling the sheets over his head.

"If we get there first, we're more likely to receive better food, and as you know, breakfast is the most-"

"Yeah, yeah, most important meal, you say this every day," Roman said. "Can't we just, like, grab a quick brunch later on?"

Logan sighed. "No, Roman. That is not how any of this works." He slammed the door shut.

A few moments, maybe minutes, later, Roman peeked out from under the blankets. "Pat?" he whispered.

No response. Patton must have still been asleep. Of course Patton would be the one who got to sleep through the alarm and the argument.

Roman turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. It seemed as though he wouldn't be getting back to sleep anytime soon. All whilst Patton was laid there still sound asleep. That was so, so unfair.

He couldn't really do anything, though. Patton has always been a heavy sleeper, unlike Roman. And he supposed that Logan had a point - getting up early would certainly help with this work, since they hadn't just come here for a vacation. Whilst the promise of sun had been one of the deciding factors, the actual reason that the three boys had travelled to the island was to get away from city life and focus on their work - Logan was studying some science mumbo-jumbo that Roman didn't understand, Patton was hoping to work on his photography, and Roman needed to get this goddamn novel finished. A quiet, whilst kind of touristy, place like that seemed like the best place for them to focus, and in the case of the other two actually added to their work.

That didn't mean Roman was okay with getting up so early, though. Not after he spent God-knows-how-long travelling and then only getting around three hours of sleep. Maybe the next day it would've been fine, but he seriously doubted he would be able to focus at all today.

There was no harm in trying, though. If all else failed, he could always take a nap later on. But for now, he had to focus on his plan. He was in for the adventure of a lifetime, and he wasn't going to waste it.

8:09

Virgil stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed his coffee mug, chugging the entire thing in one go. This morning he would be working on pure caffeine and spite, which perhaps wasn't the best idea when he was supposed to look happy for the 'guests', but if it got him through the day then so be it. Upon realising that his cup was empty, he grabbed the one next to it, not bothering to check who's it was, and chugged that too.

"Remy isn't going to appreciate you drinking his coffee," one of Virgil's roommates said, from the other side of the kitchen.

Virgil put the cup back down and looked over at Emile, who was sat crosslegged on top of the counter sipping his cup of hot chocolate. "What a shame." He began pouring out another cup of coffee.

"Are you doing okay, buddy?" Emile asked, jumping down from the counter and stepping towards him. "'Cause, uh, that's an awful lot of coffee."

"If I don't drink this, I'll end up punching a dude, and then I'll lose my job again. Which I can't afford to do."

Before Virgil could drink a third cup, Emile gently pulled it out of his hand. "Virgil, you're going to end up killing yourself."

"Oh no," Virgil said in monotone, trying to get his coffee back but being unable too as Emile held it out of his reach.

A third person came strutting into the room and snatched the coffee out Emile's hand. "Was Virgil trying to steal my coffee again?" he asked.

Emile smirked. "He did steal your coffee. And then made another one."

Remy faked annoyance. "How dare he."

Virgil just sighed.

"Well," Emile said, "I should get off. I've got a client at ten."

Remy smiled and planted a small kiss on Emile's forehead. "Good luck, Em."

"Ew," Virgil said.

"This is our apartment, I'm allowed to kiss my boyfriend," Remy said, as Emile moved away towards the front door.

"I also live here," Virgil reminded him.

"Only because your poor," Remy countered.

"I make more than you."

"And Emile makes more than both of us combined."

Virgil considered that for a moment. "I mean, yeah, I guess."

"When you get yourself a rich significant other, then you can move out and you won't have to watch us be gay." Before Virgil could reply, Remy left the kitchen.

Shaking his head but allowing a small smile to creep out, Virgil grabbed his backpack and left the apartment.

9:32

"Why are we up so early?" Patton moaned, as the three of them walked out of the hotel.

"We've gone over this, Patton," Logan said. "We have to make the most of our time here."

"We have almost two weeks, Logan, surely we can spare a day to rest," Patton argued.

"You're not allowed to complain," Roman chimed in. "Since, y'know, you got an extra hour of sleep."

"Speaking of," Logan continued, "I set an alarm for a reason. It would be great if, in the future, you both got up at the designated time."

Patton sighed. "Alright, Logan."

Logan smiled. "Thank you for understanding, Patton."

9:35

Virgil glanced at a group of three boys making their way out of the hotel as he made his way in. He could tell they were new arrivals from their pale complexity - and from the fact he hadn't seen them around yet. They might have been on last nights plane. But if that were the case, why were they up so early?

Maybe they were the type to get out and do things. Which was good for Virgil, because that just meant less people to slave after. Although, they did seemed to be the loud type, judging by the fact that he could hear their conversation perfectly, which he did not care for at all. Perhaps they would be a problem later on.

Not that any of that mattered. It wasn't as if any of them would talk to him. Properly, he meant. They weren't going to walk up to him and willingly start a conversation. No one ever did. They would just get what they need off him and then leave him be.

"You're late," someone said, as soon as Virgil stepped foot into the lobby.

He sighed. "My shift doesn't even start until ten." He walked up to the counter and leant his arm on the side, looking up to the person who had spoke, the manager. He was wearing a black and yellow suit, with a waistcoat, a bowler hat and a bowtie - over the top, really, for a less-than-fancy hotel in middle of nowhere. Down one side of his face, he had a scar surrounded by burn marks, from some mysterious tragedy he refused to talk about. Virgil had met him a couple years after said tragedy, and had been somewhat-friends with him for some time. Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't still a harsh boss.

The manager - Declan - smiled. "You're meant to arrive at half nine."

"I know, I know." Virgil shrugged. "But five minutes doesn't hurt."

"Sure," Declan dragged out.

"So, what's the deal?" He leant back. "Who we got this week?"

"Not a lot of visitors," Declan admitted. "Mostly people on business."

"Cool." Virgil breathed out. "I'll go get changed."

"Why don't you ever get changed at home?" Declan wondered.

Virgil shrugged. "You have a changing room here. Might as well make use of it."

"Is it because you don't like walking here in uniform?" Declan guessed, sensing that Virgil was lying.

"You got me." Virgil smiled. "See you in twenty."

"It doesn't take that long to-"

Virgil had already left the room before he could hear Declan finish.

19:26

"Can I take your order?"

Roman looked up at the waiter and all words fled from his mind. The man was perfect. His soft, dyed purple hair swooped in front of his deep brown eyes, which were outlined by a thick layer of black eyeshadow, kind of smudged after the long day. He had dark, smooth skin, but chapped lips, and he looked like a mess, actually, but for some reason Roman was drawn to him and only him. Everything else seemed to fade away. It was just him.

Logan nudged Roman.

Roman continued staring.

The man walked away.

Roman's world came back.

"Roman?"

His head shot to the source of the voice - Patton. "Huh?"

"You alright?" Patton asked.

Roman blinked. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"You didn't speak when he asked for your order," Logan said.

Roman frowned. "I..."

He breathed in. He had never felt that before. Never lost control over his words.

But... maybe that wasn't bad. Maybe something great was about to happen.

He had to see that man again.

CONTINUE READING HERE

[bogkeep]

hi i saw your post abt self harm on the internet and i was wondering if you could expand on that!! im not sure i get entirely your point or what you would consider discourse in in regards to that and id genuinely like to understand what u mean because im not sure im looking at this through the right lense

okay, i’m going to make an attempt! i can tell from the tags people write that a lot of people relate or understand what i mean, but if you don’t? that’s okay, and maybe good even, especially if it means you’re taking good care of yourself.

so what i mean is like… when you do something; when you open a social media site or look something up, what will you get out of it? what’s the input going to your head and heart? how will it make you feel? and this isn’t a rhetoric question like “obviously it will make you feel bad” because there’s a lot of good things on the internet - interacting with friends and acquaintances, learning things and sharing perspectives, looking at art and getting inspired, looking at cute cat pictures, etc. we have so much information and media at our fingertips’ reach!! and it’s a double edged sword. because you can like inject all these good things directly into your brain, but you can ALSO inject a lot of bad things into your brain, too. like it’s really easy to look up things that trigger you in any way, and sometimes you might not even know something is triggering you. i don’t know if you’ve ever had that like, curiousity to check something out that you’re better off not knowing, but you do it anyway, because you CAN so why NOT. because we can!!! we can access everything so easily!! like people twenty years ago could not look up their exes on five different social medias and keep up with their lives. it’s wild how we can know what’s happening basically all over the world pretty much the instance it happens. having to care about the fate of the entire world is some superhero angst shit. you’re just one person and you’re alive and you’re going to like, be here for a while, so please take some deep breaths ya feel. but also the world is in a pretty dreary state right now so like. it’s rough. it really is!

and i’m not saying we should all avoid everything that hurts us all the time and put ourselves in bubbles or anything. hurt is gonna happen. the world is gonna be rough. but also, set boundaries for yourself. DON’T look up your exes. you don’t HAVE to know all the news constantly, and you’re not a bad person for taking a break to live your life. if you struggle with body image, looking at heavily curated and edited instagram selfies and comparing yourself to it is really just hurting yourself over and over. so i am specifically talking about the boundaries you hold to *yourself*. just because we CAN do anything and keep up with everything, it’s not…. a good thing to do. there’s just TOO much. a lot of the time i hear people condemn entire sites like twitter or tumblr for being toxic cesspools where only X and Y happens, and like, yeah, some of these criticisms are valid, but it’s also ENTIRELY possible to curate your internet experience. unfollow blogs that stress you out or circulate content or comments you find toxic or don’t like the attitude of. blacklist tags. etc. it’s easy to feel like there’s only this or that kind of blogs out there, but that’s not true. the internet is so full of different people, and there’s bound to be content out there that will make you happier if you need it.

so, in regards to discourse, i’m not referring to a certain discourse - i’ve been on tumblr for what, six years now? discussions come and go, and a lot of the time there’s been a lot of genuinely constructive conversations and discussions! but a lot of discussions out here seem to evolve into something much less constructive. some discussions just don’t GO anywhere, neither side actually wants to listen or change their opinion, people forget there’s another human being on the other side, and it’s just… at some point it’s like people forget what they’re trying to ACHIEVE by doing what they’re doing. some people are just taking out their anger and frustration on the internet. there’s a lot of infighting between marginalized groups - especially the lgbtq+ community, because we’re all hurting and scared and have so many life experiences from all around the world, a lot of us are really young, and it’s. it’s hard! it’s so hard sometimes. and the thing is, a lot of the discourse on internet becomes like, layers upon layers, and what makes sense when you’re on five layers on tumblr is NOT necessarily applicable in real life. sometimes it like… becomes the equivalent of an academic text where you have to go through an education to even understand the terms that are being used. like, personally? sometimes i see discussions i don’t have the heart to partake in myself anymore, and i don’t understand what’s being said at all. and honestly that’s such a relief to me. that’s not to say partaking in discussions is inherently bad! it can be really good! but for me, i can’t do it anymore. my personal experience was trying to act in good faith and be open to learn and change and i kept replying to someone who refused to listen to anything i said, and instead kept attacking me. it was like repeatedly flinging myself against a wall. the impulse to have a constructive discussion with everyone who disagrees with me on my own post is *there*, but it’s not worth it for me, because the stress and time and energy i inflict on myself for the sake of a complete stranger who does NOT have my best interests at heart…. yeah. no. consider if you *really* need to die on that hill. it’s okay to walk away.i don’t know if this will help or if it’s still too nebulous. it’s mostly about what choices you make and considering what you’re trying to achieve, and whether your actions are actually reflecting that, or if you’re just causing yourself pain and frustration. the concept of emotional self harm (especially through internet) has been put forth by several people, but some sources that have like, helped me formulate this whole thing has been- contrapoints video about incels - the podcast ‘just break up’- the podcast ‘conversations with people who hate me’

[pandemicthestory]

5: distanced

The next step is to find an in, and then an out. 

The morning news briefing on TV:

Kelly Sanchez, lead anchorwoman, stares gravely into the camera. It will be another day of news that no one wants to hear. 

“Good morning, Chicago. We’re here with your daily update of the coronavirus. Schools across the country have been canceled due to a significant shortage of public funding. These are funds that are currently being allocated to bail out the tanking airline industry. The President says that allowing the top corporations to suffer will result in a greater hole for the economy. We hope he’s right.

Meanwhile, bars, restaurants and shopping centers that have been re-opened early to boost the economy have not seen the dramatic rise in business that was expected. Perhaps people are too afraid to go out to dinner amongst the public, or perhaps they simply can’t afford it due to a loss of work. One thing we do know is that the most detrimental effect of these early openings is causing a further spread. As people in certain states that have not seriously social-distanced begin to cross state lines…”

Emma’s mom and dad are sitting on the couch, waiting for Kelly to tell them that things are going to get at least slightly better. But she doesn’t. It’s getting impossible to convince themselves that this will all be over soon--that everything will return to normal. It’s becoming likely that the new “normal,” if it ever comes, will be something that no one has ever seen. 

*buzzzz*

Emma’s alarm wakes her up at 8:30 AM. She facepalms herself upon remembering that school doesn’t exist anymore and therefore alarms are canceled. Dammit. 

But then, she remembers that Universe is currently downloading to her external hard drive. The excitement of this sends a shock through her system and wakes up every cell in her body. It’s that “Christmas morning” excitement, which is marginally more enjoyable than that “about to run away with a possibly bad dude” excitement. That kind is good too, just, different. She runs over to her computer. 

16 HOURS REMAINING

Shit. The size of this application is no joke. Seemingly she’ll have to wait until tonight to begin her exploration. To find Mason. 

Emma remembers the talk they had last night, and reflects on his support of her relationships with her friends. She realizes that she didn’t know many people with that quality, guys especially...it seems like they always demand her full attention and become frustrated if asked to share. Especially one guy. Well anyway, Mason. Intriguing.

Emma heads downstairs to make herself a bowl of cereal. Oh wait, there’s no milk. And no cereal either? These days, groceries are scarce and pickings are slim. Ah well, might have to be plain oatmeal. Serious orphanage vibes--which is somewhat fitting since her parents wish they could leave her at one. 

Ugh. Every time you eat oatmeal, you forget how horrible oatmeal is. Isabel sits across the table from her, scrolling through her phone with intent and drinking black coffee. Emma smirks. 

“Aren’t you kinda young to be drinking coffee? Plus what do you have to energize for, your job at the office?”

Isabel pays no attention to her. 

“Hello? Okay what is up with you.”

Isabel looks up from her phone, a faraway look in her eyes. 

“Do you have a headset?” she asks. 

“Um, what do you mean? Like headphones? What are you talking about?”

Isabel looks down again. 

“No, like a viewing headset. Like an Oculus or a Vive. Aren’t you like, a tech nerd? You don’t do anything with VR?”

Odd request. Emma isn’t much of a gamer anymore, she used to play Dota and Warcraft, but that was before she decided to cut back to become more social. Spend time with her friends. Date an asshole. Whatever. But in all her experience with gaming, she had never gotten into VR. She never saw the point...either play games or experience the real world. What was the point in trying to achieve both at the same time?

“No I don’t. And you know those are expensive as hell, right?” 

Isabel looks nervous. 

“I know. Which is why...um, I was wondering, can I borrow some money?” 

Emma bursts out laughing. 

“No Iz, you can’t borrow 800 dollars to buy a VR headset. Hey are you aware that we’re going through a global pandemic and the world may or may not be ending? I think food and toilet paper are better investments than virtual tennis, or whatever.” 

Isabel just shakes her head. What is with this girl? She’s normally the queen of smartassery--loves to spar with Emma and argue about literally everything. She’s usually so ready for a fight, but now she feels surrendered. It’s weird how you can be trapped in such close quarters with a person and still feel like they’re on a different planet. 

Emma and Isabel are two years apart. Up until Emma was 6 and Isabel was 4, they were best friends. They shared everything. Isabel didn’t want to play with a toy unless Emma played with it with her. She wouldn’t wear clothing unless it was Emma’s hand-me-down. They shared a bedroom, the walls covered with monarch butterflies. Their mom went for a theme, tacky lamp shades and all, lord knows she tried her best. Often, they would stay awake late into the night, vividly describing the dream that the other sister would have. They thought if they focused hard enough, they could carry those dreams with them into sleep. 

But as they got older, things changed. The tacky butterflies were no longer endearing. Emma moved into a room that was being used as her dad’s office. She got a Nintendo DS for Christmas. And she started locking her door. 

Isabel was left to wonder where her role model went. But after Emma made it clear that her hobbies were no longer to be shared, Isabel hardened herself to the rejection. She promised herself to become her own person in any way that she could, to never be dependent on Emma to define her personality. 

In fifth grade, Isabel met Anush. They met because they were both teacher helpers in art class, and it was their responsibility to help set up the room before class and clean it up afterwards. They were both very outgoing, emotional, and honest. Isabel always told Anush exactly what she was thinking, and vice versa. The two girls were popular among their classmates, but the good kind of popular. They were kind, and they included the other girls who wanted to be like them.

So really, it makes no sense that Isabel is being the way that she is. She’s confident, vocal, and annoyingly optimistic. On a normal day. So what’s wrong?

“Emma, someone just dropped a package off for you.” 

Their mom called from the other room. Isabel leaves the table, stressed and defeated. Emma continues to chip away at the bowl of grey sludge in front of her. It’s crazy that there are still people out there delivering the mail--how long until that stops too? 

*buzz* 

Good morning, group chat. 

OLIVIA: GG morning check-in: I want to talk about what the hell Serena sees in Dan 

MADISON: or what dan sees in serena?? Come on he’s like an intellectual and she’s a superficial barbie princess 

ZOE: Mad you know that is MISOGYNISTIC and that you’re letting the fact that she wears expensive dresses and has blonde hair cloud your judgement!! 

MADISON: oh shut up it’s early 

OLIVIA: Remember when you were begging not to watch the show??

MADISON: quarantine does weird shit to people ok

Emma enters the chat. 

EMMA: Ok but without Serena, don’t you think Blair is so much more lame? Like it’s the best friend combo that makes the show imo

ZOE: There she is!!!

MADISON: goooood morning to our very own barbie princess! 

OLIVIA: Why are any of us even awake? SCHOOL’S OVERRR. Should we like, do something?

EMMA: Like what? Sit on our asses and text each other from afar?

MADISON: sounds chill 

Emma laughs to herself. Damn. She’s going to miss them. 

Maybe there’s a way for her to tell...part of the truth? Leave the part about Julian out? Kind of a big part... Say she’s coming back? Make up a concrete opportunity? There has to be some sort of acceptable explanation...there just has to be. And even if she can’t come up with one...there are other things she wants to tell them about. Another boy. 

EMMA: Hey do you guys wanna do a zoom chat in a few min? Just kinda feel like talking more than texting rn 

MADISON: do u mind if i go back to bed and pass on that? I love u girl but i’m tired af  

ZOE: aaand same here, but it’s only because i’m supposed to do this thing…

OLIVIA: so call Gabriel?

ZOE: Wellllll...I don’t wanna lie to y’all.

Ha. Emma knows the feeling. 

EMMA: you out too Liv?

OLIVIA: I am innnnn give me a call when you’re ready 

MADISON: kiss kiss kiss

ZOE: kiiiiissssss

EMMA: bye losers 

Well, maybe telling one person is a good place to start. Liv is super understanding...she’ll be able to think of a good way to break the news to Mad and Zoe. Emma runs up to her room and closes the door. She flops down on her unmade bed, and facetimes Olivia. 

“Hey Liv”

“Emmmm”

Lingering silence. Emma just kind of stares at the wall. Olivia breaks the silence.

“Sooo what did you wanna talk about?”

Emma doesn’t know if she can do it. Ok, form words. Try. 

“I wanna tell you something, that’s kind of a long story. And it’s connected to other stories. And basically I’ve just gone too long without talking about any of it and now there’s like this big clusterfuck of details that I need you to know but can’t figure out where to start.” 

Whew. Even the vaguest of outbursts feels cathartic. Olivia doesn’t seem to be freaked out yet.

“Emma, I’m pretty sure I know you better than anyone. And you can trust me.” 

“I know you say that now but...I don’t know if, after I say what I, well I don’t know if you’re gonna trust me. I haven’t said everything that I need to say to you. Or Zo and Mad.” 

“Ok, so, here’s your chance. I’m listening.” 

Emma takes a deep breath. Where to start?

*knock knock* 

The knocks are soft. Unlike her mom’s, whose are very prison guard-esque, and actually who is more likely to not knock at all. Emma calls out. 

“What.” 

Isabel’s voice comes from the other side of the door.

“I gotta tell you something.” Her voice is uncharacteristically soft.

“I’m on the phone with Liv right now, can it wait?”

Silence. 

“Iz?”

Emma hears the creaking of Isabel’s footsteps down the wooden hallway, and then her beddoor shutting. Click, it locks. 

Emma turns back to the phone. 

“That was Iz, she’s been acting like a freak.” 

“What’s going on with her?”

“No idea. I feel like 14 is a weird age, plus like, she’s REALLY social and into school and shit. This quarantine is probably forcing an inversion of her personality.”

Olivia nods with sympathy. “God, that’s rough.” 

“Yeah...I feel kinda bad I guess. We just don’t really have anything to talk about.” 

“Oh come on, you’re sisters. Talk about how controlling your mom is.” 

Emma laughs. She flips onto her back and stretches her legs against the wall. Oh, physical exertion of any kind feels so unnatural. 

“Well Liv...we do have one thing in common. Which is...one of the things I haven’t told you.” 

Emma fights a smile. 

“TELL ME”

“So I saw Isabel playing this weird computer game, I mean I don’t even know if it was a game or like what the hell it was, but now, I’m downloading it…”

“Uh, ok?? Why?”

“This is going to sound insane, but hear me out…”

“Hearing…”

“I got this...message...online. From someone who I’ve never met. A guy, I think, and his name is Mason.”

“OOOMG” 

“Hahah well it’s not like that, I mean I have no fucking idea WHAT it’s like, because it’s very weird, and um, he’s the reason I’m downloading this game. The one that Iz is playing. Cuz he told me to.”

Silence. 

“That...is really fucking weird.” 

“I know.” 

“You don’t even know how badly I wish I was coming over right now to go all detective on his ass right now with you…”

Emma laughs. “I know you would be. It’s so weird being here alone.”

“You’re not alone Em!!! I’m here. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but I’ll ALWAYS be here for you. That’s corny as hell but hey it’s true.” 

“Hah, yeah...same. I’m here.” 

How can Emma keep this incredibly annoying feeling of guilt suppressed? It’s kind of ruining the buzz of anything else. But it will be ok. Olivia will understand... 

*ping*

Emma has come to expect that any message received to her ghostwriter account will be from Mason. She jumps up from her bed, still on the call with Olivia. Emma starts to get excited. 

“So this is crazy but he just messaged me, ahhhhhh…”

“Eeee tell me what he said!!”

Sure enough, the message is from Mason.

MASON: hi! did you get it yet?

Emma reads the message aloud to Olivia, who is equally confused.

“What is he talking about?

“I have no idea…”

Emma starts typing a response. 

EMMA: Good morning! Get what..?

MASON: a package!

Emma looks confused. Was it...Mason who sent the package? What the hell? How does he know where she lives?? Well at this point she’s not surprised. 

“Liv, I gotta call you back!” 

“Ok you BETTER tell me what the hell this package situation is because congratulations this is now the most interesting thing happening in my life!!!” 

Emma ends the call and runs downstairs. Her parents haven’t moved from the couch, still watching coverage of the virus’s destruction on TV.

“Hey Mom where’s that package??”

“Iz said she’d bring it up to you.”

“What? Can you not give her my mail?”

Emma’s mom turns to face her. “Attitude. Chill.” 

Emma rolls her eyes and runs upstairs. She knocks on Isabel’s door. Well, bangs, really. 

“Hi ready to talk now. What’s up??” 

No response. As Emma presses her ear against the door, she can’t hear anything. She jiggles the handle, it won’t open. 

“This is really weird. Hello.”

“Hellooooo.”

“Fine, we don’t have to talk. But I need my package. Now.” 

……

Emma grabs the little key from behind the thermostat in the hallway. Isabel will just have to forgive her for this. Emma inserts the key into the lock and…

The lock clicks, the handle turns, and the door opens. 

Emma enters the room, ready for Isabel to yell at her. 

“Iz??”

First Emma sees the packaging. The medium-sized cardboard box on the ground, the bubble wrap, the plastic…it had clearly been torn off in a hurry...

Isabel is sitting at her computer, her back turned toward Emma.

“Isabel?!”

Emma runs over and jerks the swivel chair to face her, and Isabel slouches over. She’s wearing a virtual reality headset. 

The one that was sent to Emma in that package.

“ISABEL”

Isabel’s ears are covered with oversized headphones, but even without them, she wouldn’t be able to hear Emma anyway. Her body is limp. Non-responsive. 

Emma starts panicking and checks Isabel’s pulse--steady. Her breathing, normal. What is happening here? What is going on??

Then Emma sees the computer screen. 

The map. That fucking map. 

She turns back to Isabel. She thinks of Mason. She realizes.

The right question is not “What”, but “Where.”

[truerequitedlove]

Formless

something deep and primal within me begged me to write this. i hope someone else finds something in it for them as well

note - i wrote this in one sitting and i’m not super sure of it so constructive criticism is not only welcome but i’m begging u

disclaimer – i’m not claiming anything portrayed in this piece of fiction as true or untrue about any of the people i’ve used characterizations of in real life

Genre: introspection, reality/non-AU

Warnings: gender questioning, sexuality questioning, bit of gender dysphoria, brief mention of depression, brief mention of homophobia, brief existentialism, lots of queerness

Word Count: too long tbh (4.8k)

Dan wished he was formless.

read on ao3

~•~•~

Dan wished he was formless. Shapeless. Amorphous. Nebulous. He wished he was hazy around the edges. He wished he was open to interpretation, able to sway one direction and then just as quickly to the next. He wished he looked different depending on the light. He wished every time he was seen, he was new. He wished he was ambiguous. Silver in a world of bright colors. Reflective. He wished he was infinite and fathomless and chameleonic. He wished he was a grey area, balancing on a line, living in a pocket to the left of the known universe.  

But Dan was just Dan. Just lines and angles and flesh and bones.

And Dan didn’t know what caused him to long for this sense of formlessness. It could easily have been the sadness that occasionally overwhelmed him. The desire to be anything but human. Human with the pesky ability to feel and think and wonder and philosophize.

But that was different. When the sadness managed to take over, to eat at Dan, when the numbness set into his bones, it was different. During these times, he was formless. Not in the right way. In the confusing, fearful, way. When he melted into a puddle and parts of him kept slipping away, and he couldn’t gather himself up quickly enough to become whole again. To become a person again.

And Dan did like being a person. He liked being human. He liked the feeling of fingers trailing over his skin. He liked the way his stomach did flips before something amazing happened. He liked breathing in fresh air when he stepped outside or opened a window. He liked the way certain tastes bathed his tongue and made him feel inside his chest. He liked the way he could express his thoughts aloud, in writing, in art. He liked the way he could experience others’ thoughts through their words and art. He liked that he had a body that felt and a mind that thought.

So, Dan had begun to think that maybe he wanted formlessness only because of societal ideals.

Or, perhaps, that everyone was formless.

Perhaps humans existed in a formless, nebulous, chaotic state, and they forced themselves into molds to create forms that were organized and neat. Perhaps some humans fit those molds better than others. Perhaps some humans overflowed, seeped through the cracks, spilled out chaos.

Okay. Maybe from the moment one was born, molds were placed in front of them by the picture-perfect of the world. Molds made for them and handed to them as if one size fit all. Male. Female. Straight. Society asked humans to fit into the molds. When humans rejected these molds, they found another to try on. Gay. Bisexual. Ace.

But Dan wanted to be mold-less. Formless. He wanted to be an exception. He wanted—

“Dan?” a voice called from across the flat, breaking into his thoughts.

Dan frowned, trying to recapture the thought. Formless. Dan wanted to be formless with no limit to his—

“Dan?” the voice called again.

Dan sighed. “What?” he called back in a monotone.

“Pasta,” Phil replied shortly.

Dan shook his head, and his lips quirked up a little. He stood from the bed and walked down the hall toward the kitchen.

“You interrupted my introspection,” Dan said, knocking his hip against Phil’s as he reached to grab a bowl from the cupboard.

Phil scooped some of the pasta out of a pot on the stove into his own bowl. “Good,” he said, knocking Dan’s hip in return. “You’ve been doing too much of that.”

“I’m doing important reflection on my life and identity so that I can further my career and personal life in a way that stays authentic to my true self,” Dan argued, scooping himself up some pasta.

“I know,” Phil said, taking a seat at their table. “But, you know, I think sometimes you learn more about yourself by living life than reflecting on it.”

“I think I’ve lived a lot the past year,” Dan said, sitting across from Phil.

“Fair,” Phil said before he scooped some pasta noodles into his mouth. “What have you been thinkin’ about?” Phil asked, before fully swallowing his mouthful.

Dan raised an eyebrow, breathing out a soft chuckle at Phil. “Societal expectations versus individual identity.”

Phil chuckled. “I look forward to—to reading your thesis,” he joked.

Dan smiled. “Or maybe just watch my next video.”

Phil hummed. “Thinking about doing another deep-ish one?” he asked, and Phil always made it sound so simple.

“Maybe,” Dan said. “Haven’t decided.”

“Well,” Phil said, reaching for a napkin to wipe pasta sauce from the corner of his mouth. “Whatever it is, it’ll be great,” he promised.

Dan smiled a little. “What makes you say that?”

Phil swallowed his bite of pasta. “Because it’s you,” he said easily, scooping more pasta onto his fork. “Eat your pasta I slaved over it for hours.”

Dan rolled his eyes, still smiling a bit as he scooped some of the pasta onto his fork.

~•~•~

Dan looked himself in the mirror. He was still half-asleep, but he’d tugged on a t-shirt. And sweatpants, as it was a bit chilly. He hadn’t turned the bathroom light on, planning to try to sleep in a bit longer, but he’d paused when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

He looked at himself, unsure what exactly made him stop. It was him. He didn’t look terrible or exhausted. He didn’t look amazing, either. His curls fell into his face, grown out just a bit since his last haircut. The light cotton shirt he wore hung off his shoulders loosely. His sweatpants were nestled low around his hips. His cheeks were soft and red from sleeping. His lips were much less chapped than usual, red, and a bit plumper than usual.

He liked the way he looked.

Dan couldn’t perfectly put his finger on what it was he liked, but he felt good.

He felt... He felt that sense of formlessness that he’d been craving if only a little. It might have been the messiness. An oversized shirt, unkempt hair. No, no. It wasn’t the messiness. It definitely wasn’t the messiness. He grabbed a comb from the bathroom drawer, flicking the light on.

He played with his hair a bit, pushing it back and combing it forward. No, no. He tried to capture the feeling he wanted, but it felt like it was getting further and further away. No, no, what happened? Where had the feeling gone? Dan felt frustration slowly replace the satisfaction. Tears gathered in his eyes.

Dan heard Phil stumble toward the bathroom, and he opened the door, seeming surprised to see Dan despite the light being on. Phil was obviously still half-asleep, but he noticed Dan was upset.

“Hey,” Phil spoke, voice scratchy and deep. He tried to clear his throat with a cough. “Hey, what’s wrong?” His voice still came out a bit gravelly.

Dan reached up to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand. “Oh, uh, nothing, nothing. Sorry. I’ll let you pee,” Dan said, leaving the bathroom. He was pretty sure that a less-sleepy Phil wouldn’t have let him get away so easily.

Dan crawled back into bed, trying to shake the strange discomfort that had crept up on him and just fall asleep again. Before he could, Phil crawled back into bed beside him.

“Hey,” Phil breathed, wrapping his arms around Dan’s middle. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Dan breathed, not sounding too convincing.

“Hey,” Phil murmured again, dropping a kiss to Dan’s head. “You’re gorgeous.”

Dan didn’t know how Phil knew to say that, but he smiled a little. Gorgeous . “Thanks,” Dan said genuinely.

~•~•~

Dan was thinking about high school. He was thinking about trying to be a scene kid, wearing skinny jeans, girls’ jeans, trying eyeliner, growing his hair too long, straightening it. He was thinking about the emo boys he’d known. He was noticing how the whole scene sort of allowed teenage boys to embrace a more feminine side. They got to mess around with feminine fashion, hairstyles, make-up, and express their emotions.

He was thinking about the kids who’d call him gay, throw rocks, yell ‘faggot’ after Dan and his friends. They’d just laugh at the time or yell something back, but Dan wondered if those things really did leave a lasting impact on his expression.  

He was thinking about the other night, the vague rightness he had seen in his reflection for a split second. He was thinking about how he knew, objectively, that he was a good-looking guy, but he was still unsatisfied with his appearance. He was thinking about his curly hair. He was thinking about his old reading festival bracelets. He was thinking about nail polish. He was thinking about his relationship with Phil. He was thinking about his fear of being labeled gay. He was thinking about the time when he was in uni and grew his hair out a bit long, straightened it, and put in earrings. He was thinking about the time when he cut his hair, styled it like every guy he knew did, defended himself, guarded himself, and shoved a few pieces of himself into the recesses of his being. He was thinking about the change between those times and the change between then and now.

Dan was thinking quite a lot.

He was thinking quite a lot about sexuality, gender, and identity.

He was thinking about it, because it wasn’t so scary at the moment, and he needed to take advantage of that.

There was a time when Dan wanted to be seen as anything but gay. Anything but feminine.

But, had Dan ever really felt masculine?

So, Dan thought about that. Had there ever been a time in his life that he had really felt like a boy or a man?

During his childhood, before gender or sexuality or appearance mattered, Dan would live carelessly. He would wear tiaras and tutus and sing spice girls into plastic microphones. He would climb trees and skin his knees and ride his bicycle around the neighborhood. He took piano lessons. He refused to play rough and fight with the other little boys. He made friends with girls. He ran through parks, rolled down grass hills. He hugged his grandma and kissed her hello. He was never good at sports. He loved video games.

And, no, he’d never felt like a girl . But, had he ever felt like a boy? Dan had never given much thought to gender. He’d always just been Dan . Dan with boy friends and girl friends. Dan who liked girls and liked boys. Dan who cursed at video games and cried listening to Cancer by My Chemical Romance.

Dan had felt gay before. He’d felt queer.

He often felt queer.

When he laid his head against the flat, broad, chest of his boyfriend. When he kissed the firmer lips of a man, his man. When he fell into bed with his lover, pressed himself into him, let him press himself into Dan. When Dan’s gaze toward a man lingered a second. God, when Dan looked in the mirror. He always felt queer. That was irrevocably a part of him. A part of him he’d learned to take pride in.

Alas, beyond that vague queerness, Dan had always struggled to define himself.

Dan stopped running, leaning against the wall and catching his breath. He looked around at the scarcely populated streets. The sun was just starting to properly light up the sky. Dan almost felt like the only one alive. He wondered when he became a morning person, but it was so peaceful. So still.

It was easier to think in the morning. He had a blank slate to work with. He wasn’t quite afraid of the world yet, because it wasn’t awake yet. It wasn’t bustling and busy and chaotic yet. In that, it was the same as staying up until two, or three, or four in the morning. The difference was in how Dan felt, how the world felt.  

Three am was full of people ending their days. Full of people hurting, thinking, crying, fucking, falling in love, feeling . There were anxieties about the morning lingering in the air. Time moved faster. There was something so heavy about the early hours of darkness.  

The morning was light. It was full of fresh starts and hope. Thoughts didn’t weigh so heavily on the mind, because there was the entire day to sort them out. Getting up early was already an accomplishment. The world was quiet, and time moved slowly.

At least for Dan.

He smiled a little.

Maybe Dan wasn’t entirely a man. He had never even felt too comfortable calling himself a man. ‘Boy’ has been okay. ‘Man’ was too…masculine. Too definitive.

Maybe he was just overthinking like he always did. Maybe gender roles meant nothing and Dan just refused to give into them. Maybe being a man was whatever he wanted it to be. Or maybe gender identity was just this vague and confusing feeling. Maybe Dan was a little bit formless. Maybe he couldn’t fit into any of the molds. Maybe he craved the same label-less formlessness for his gender as he did his sexuality. Maybe these thoughts would become terrifying in a few hours.

That was okay. Mornings were full of ‘maybe’s. Maybe he’d make breakfast. Maybe he’d crawl back into bed and fall back asleep. Maybe he’d look through old video idea files and see what he could update to match his current self. Maybe he would just watch the new Queer Eye episodes and play the piano and laze about. Maybe he would look in the mirror and say ‘maybe I’m not a man.’

Dan looked up at the sky again before changing the playlist on his phone to play the more upbeat instrumentals he had compiled for these runs. He set of jogging again.

It was still early.

~•~•~

Dan set a bottle of base-coat nail polish, a bottle of black nail polish, a bag of cotton balls, and a bottle of nail polish remover down on his desk one by one. He turned on a light and sat down.  

He untwisted the top to the base nail polish, wiping the brush on the sides to get rid of the excess, and brought the applicator to his fingernail, slowly painting a line of the clear polish onto his nail, messing up the moment he had to fill in around his skin, and painting over his skin.  

Dan took in a breath. He reached for a cotton ball and the nail polish remover, cleaning his nail off.  

He tried it again.

He messed up again, this time after a few more swipes of nail polish.

He took in a breath, wiping the nail polish away with a wetted cotton ball.

He tried again.

He didn’t mess up until he got to the black polish. He painted insanely messily and out of the lines, covering his skin and cuticles in the polish.

He took in a breath and reached for the nail polish remover.  

He tried again.

Paint went onto the nail. It was messy. It was outside the lines. It wasn’t right.

Dan didn’t allow himself to get frustrated. He took another deep breath. He wet another cotton ball.

He tried again.

It was understandable that the nail polish wouldn’t stay within the confines Dan had created for it. But, Dan wanted to find a way for something to fit right. He wanted the polish on his nails to be perfect. He wanted to get good at it. He wanted it to be normal and to feel second nature.

Once he could do this, he could do the next step.

Dan didn’t know what the next step was, but he knew he wanted to get there. He needed to get there.

So, he wiped his nails off, until he did the first one perfectly, none of it on his skin or cuticles. Then he moved to the next finger and did it again. He bit his lip as he focused, painting over and over until he got it perfect.

Then, once that was dried, he repeated the process on the other hand.

~•~•~

“Look,” Dan said, holding his hand out to Phil.

Phil spared a small glance. “Cute,” he said because this was normal.

“No,” Dan said. “Look.”

Phil perked an eyebrow, but looked again, taking Dan’s hand and holding it in the light to look them over. “Very pretty,” he said.

“I did a good job, yeah?” Dan asked because Phil was clueless and he needed the reassurance.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, they look great,” Phil assured. “Perfect, actually,” he said, looking them over.

Dan rolled his eyes and sat back. “Took a few attempts,” he said.

“Well, you’re getting good at it,” Phil said.

Dan smiled. “I try.”

Phil’s gaze remained on Dan’s face for a moment.

“What?” Dan asked, blushing . He was fucking blushing, he could feel the warmth in his cheeks. Phil Lester had spared him many a long glance with similar amounts of affection. Still, Dan felt his stomach flutter just a bit. Dan didn’t know why it felt different in the moment, but it did.

“Nothing,” Phil said, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You’re just. Dunno. You look very pretty.” He turned back to his laptop.

Dan smiled, looking away. “Thank you.”

~•~•~

Dan was scrolling through the Instagram of Ben J. Pierce and trying to remember when they’d ended up in a mutual following.

There was something lovely and inspiring about these queer creators he followed. The pride they took in their identity and expression was comforting and inspirational. Still, Dan managed to find sadness in it. He couldn’t help but feel strange. Ben, for example, was only just twenty years old. When Dan was twenty, he was entering the throes of repression, about to spend a year or so trying to change himself, to make himself more desirable to the audience he felt he wanted. Yet, there were so many younger than him who seemed to be so aware of themselves. So proud of themselves. And so loud about it.

Dan looked at the lipstick painted across Ben’s lips. The dresses pulled over his chest. The colors around his eyes. The shimmer on his cheekbones. Dan loved it. He loved it for Ben. But there was also a sort of longing in his chest as he looked at these pictures. Make-up seemed like a lot. A dress seemed like a lot. But, still, he wanted it. He wanted to be comfortable with the idea of his face covered in makeup and his awkward body stuffed into a skirt or dress. Not just in front of the mirror at home. Not just for the sake of trying it.

Maybe he would be someday.

A few years ago, it would have felt like a joke to want such a thing, so at least he was making progress. The idea of being anything but a man would have seemed like a joke.

Dan knew a lot of things now that he hadn’t known back then. He had met people in the past few years that a young, sexually confused and repressed Dan could never even have imagined existing. Young people with bright smiles and grateful words and knowledge of their own identity that Dan sort of envied.

People who looked up at him with bright eyes and said “thank you so much for always using inclusive language,” and “I met people through you that allowed me to find parts of myself and piece together my identity,” and “I’m glad you’re comfortable with traditionally non-masculine things, because I was made fun of for being a boy that likes feminine things.” People who made Dan feel like somehow this silly YouTube thing had a genuinely positive effect on hundreds of people. People who gave Dan way too much credit.

Dan looked down at his nails, painted flawlessly. He remembered the first time he’d properly painted them. The endless support and excitement that flooded in from fans. It had been silly. Love and support for putting a bit of paint on his nails. But, it had also been amazing. He had genuinely been afraid. He’d looked that the bottle of nail polish a fan had given him. A cheap, barely opaque, dollar store bottle. He’d felt the same longing he did now.

That was one thing. Not wanting to conform to gender roles. Life was too short to just live in the box set out for you by society.

The thing that was different was the strange euphoria that washed over him when he looked down at his painted nails. When he wore a too-big sweater. When his hair fell over his forehead just right.

Just the thought of drifting further away from the labels, boxes, and societal rules of gender made something bubble up inside of him. Something distinct from his current queerness but queer nonetheless. After all these months of introspection and striving to live as authentically as possible, Dan was ready to fully acknowledge this facet of his queerness. He was ready to acknowledge that he might not just wish for formlessness, but already be, in a way, formless.

~•~•~

Dan had been quiet and contemplative for a while. He was ready to talk now. He wanted to lay it all out verbally and piece it together in words as best as he could. Dan hated fixed labels, but his mind also hated leaving things nameless. Phil had patient ears, and soft encouragement, and had foolishly agreed to stay with Dan and listen to his contemplation for nine years and counting.

So, Dan walked into the lounge where he knew he’d find Phil and caught his gaze.

“What if I told you I wasn’t a man?”

Phil set aside his laptop, giving Dan his full attention. Dan hoped he wasn’t going to make a big deal, but he knew better. That wasn’t their style. Phil smiled a little and seemed neither startled nor bothered.

“I would say ‘okay,’” Phil said. “And I would ask if you’d like me to change the way I refer to you.”

Dan almost felt as though these were words contemplated by Phil before this conversation. Dan smiled little. Of course. He was stupid. Phil knew. God, Phil had probably known before Dan had even begun to properly question.

“And if I said I wasn’t sure?” Dan asked, sitting down on the other end of the couch so he could face Phil.

“Then,” Phil said easily. “I would say ‘okay,’ and ask if you wanted to talk about it.”

Dan smiled. “How long have you suspected?” he asked.

Phil understood because of course he did. Dan wasn’t sure how people communicated with people who didn’t know them so well. Talking to anyone else about this would have been so much different, so much scarier, and so much harder.

Phil shrugged. “I didn’t know anything for sure, but I hadn’t ruled it out. I just figured if you felt like you needed to say anything you would, and you have.”

Dan leaned back into the couch cushion, smiling a bit, but unsure exactly how to proceed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Phil asked.

Dan looked down at his black nails. “Yes.”

Phil shut his laptop, moved a bit closer to Dan and Dan talked.

Dan talked for a long time. He talked about the stupidity of gender roles, about the articles he’d read about gender being merely a construct. Scientific research studies. Phil mentioned gently and with a chuckle that Dan didn’t have to cite medical journals to justify the way he and many others felt.

Dan talked about being queer. He talked about painting his nails. He talked about catching glimpses of himself in the mirror and feeling warmth well up at the casual androgyny he sometimes found in his reflection. He talked about baggy clothes and small hoop earrings and curly hair. He talked about euphoria and dysphoria.

Dan talked about the non-binary and binary trans people who showed up to meet and greets. He talked about the queer pride that radiated off of so many of their audience. He talked about all he’d learned about the world in trying to understand his and Phil’s audience, and incidentally, all he’d learned about himself.  

He talked candidly about the difficulty he often had equating himself with a man. With maleness or masculinity. He talked about male beauty gurus and gender nonconforming people and drag queens and non-binary genders.

Phil listened. He added comments. He brought up things that he noticed about Dan that Dan hadn’t even noticed. He occasionally asked for clarification, but he knew all of the terms and the ideas and Dan was so glad Phil was quite queer as well.

They talked for hours, between bites of food and snacks. They talked until the sun went down. They talked until Dan’s jaw got tired and they couldn’t keep their eyes open.

“We should head to bed,” Phil said because he knew Dan could stay up and talk despite the tiredness.

Dan nodded. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Did we…did I ever reach any sort of conclusion?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’d say I did,” Phil said, smiling, eyes drooping and hand on Dan’s thigh.

“Mhm?” Dan asked, gently pushing Phil’s hair from his face. “What’s that?”

“You’re you,” Phil said. “And I love you.”

“Gross. Cheesy. I’m putting you to bed,” Dan said.

Phil smiled. “I know you like to think and sort things out,” Phil said, yawning. “But, I think things get clearer with time, you know? We’re moving slowly right now. You can let yourself slow down too. You’re ready, you know? Who you are—your truth—it’ll come to you, yeah? Piece by piece.”

Dan smiled. There were tear tracks on his cheeks because this was a lot. Talking about this was a lot. He was ready. He was finally ready to confront this vague feeling within himself that he’d always dismissed. And he didn’t have to do it alone. Another tear slipped down his cheek, and he swiped it away.

“Just let me know if you need me to change anything, or do anything. I know you’re getting so close to where you wanna be.”

Dan smiled, leaning into Phil. “I love you.”

Phil smiled too, taking in a deep breath before forcing himself to stand. He offered Dan a hand. “Alright. Bed now.”

~•~•~

Dan looked down at their freshly painted nails. They smiled. They’d removed the polish once it began to chip and reapplied it for a few weeks now. It was so strange how such a small thing could make Dan feel so much more in touch with themself.

They supposed for a lot of people, nail polish was just an extra pop of color. To Dan, it felt like a step into a new way of expressing themself. A reaffirmation to themself that their identity was real. That their formlessness was real. That their queerness was good and beautiful. That they were good and beautiful.

Dan walked into the kitchen, finding Phil buttering some toast. “I want you to switch them up,” Dan said.

Phil looked up. “What?” he questioned.

“Pronouns. Any are good. I mean, I don’t mind any. I like them all, so. I’d like it if you switched them up,” they said.

“Oh,” Phil said, smiling. “I will.”

Dan still wasn’t sure who Phil would speak to about Dan using any pronouns other than ‘he/him,’ but that was a question for another day. Dan knew Phil understood that as well, turning back to his toast.

“So, they, she, and he?” Phil clarified, wiping the butter from his knife and dropping it into the sink.

Dan felt a flutter in their stomach at the idea of being referred to as they or she. “Yeah. All good,” they said.

“So, like, ‘you should meet my boyfriend—” Phil started, moving to wrap his arms around Dan’s waist. “They’re beautiful, thoughtful, and talented. She has pretty eyes. She has a few freckles and patches of red. Her lips aren’t chapped anymore, which means they’re even better for kissing.” Phil pressed a short kiss to Dan’s lips. “I love them a lot,” he said.

A wide smile spread over Dan’s lips, they could feel their eyes water a bit, and their stomach buzzed with euphoric butterflies. “Yeah, pretty much,” Dan breathed, giggling a bit. “Although I hope you don’t always talk to people like you’re a fourth grader writing a story.”

Phil smiled, pressing another kiss to Dan’s lips. “I’m proud of you, you know,” he said, grabbing his plate of toast and taking a seat at the dining table.

Dan smiled. “I’m proud of me too,” they said.

[we-are-the-wounds]

A wAffle on influences

as a somewhat voracious listener of music no one gives a shit about, I thought i’d make this post to express my love for a few albums that have influenced me. Also, im making an album right now! (isn’t that exciting?) so yheah, influences are on my mind a lot. And now.... there’s a thing u can click on to read my thoughts VOLUNTARILY - i.e not to be subject to my fanboy boner that i slap everyone in the face with when i’m drunk (if u are one of these ppl i have slapped, sorry).

in no particular order (they’re numbered for the aesthetic lol) my biggest influences are these albums and their respective artists:

btw, If u click the titles you’ll be directed to the album on spotify

7.

Godspeed You! Black Emperor - Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas To Heaven

I feel like this album should be played in arenas during that part where everyone’s waiting for the headliner to come on stage.

But then again, these tracks aren’t quite long enough for that.

No but guys, post-rock is literally life. You know how in life all the feelings and climaxes and weirdness sorta morphs into this beautiful concept called journey? well post-rock reflects that sooooo well. And part of GY!BE’s journey was their discovery that playing guitar with screwdrivers can literally alter people’s states.

check it out

6.

Current 93 - Thunder Perfect Mind

David Tibet’s level of genius is shit scary. Why am I not being taught Current at uni?!?!??! well its bc sometimes even in careers spanning 30+ years underratedness is still a thing, n that’s okay! the art is still mindblowingly great. 

I kinda struggle to sum up Current’s sound so I’m gonna quote Myke C-Town and say that its twisted, fucked up Neofolk; replete with existential themes and that sexy, insane sort of genius that can only be expected from someone who performs barefoot. 

Also Michael Cashmore has a really iconic knack for atmosphere. 

5.

Lantlos - Melting Sun 

This album’s artwork reflects the music so damn perfectly holy shit. 

Listening to Melting Sun you will find exactly this many shades of color in all their intense wonder. Its basically a sonic orgasm; and it hits you just like anal sex - or at least like anal sex when you get everything right.

check it out, and get ready to shit, cum and maybe cry.

4.

Kraftwerk - Trans Europe Express

I can’t sleep without 70′s electronica. This de novo approach to music echoes the vision of Beethoven while facilitating hypnagogic hallucinations like fucking opiates. 

Check it out, and behold the greatest stars in the looking glass.

3.

Christian Death - Catastrophe Ballet 

Ohhhh what I would give to see Rozz live just once.

The only thing more iconic than the man’s style and charisma was his Bowie-type eclecticism that he could PRODUCE on the SPOT upon being handed a mic. Ugggh this album is just pure warped talent that features SO many sick underground faces. They really created their own domain with this one, and Catastrophe to this day continues to eclipse whatever else steps inside. 

Check it out, because I think this album is like, perfect

“But the perfect album doesn’t ex---

2.

Echo And The Bunnymen - Ocean Rain 

c-c-c-cucumber,

c-c-c-cabbage,

c-c-c-cauliflower,

OCEAN FUCKING RAIN

This is the album that reallllly gave me that drive to figure out how to sing. Its just so fun man. The riffs and the melodies and the really straightforward but powerful song structures all belong to this 80s world of like, expression and hairspray that I spend way too much time in.

But it just gets funner with each listen, and that is why it slaps.

1.

The Cure - Bloodflowers

Also listen to Pornography and Disintegration for a holistic demonstration of Robert Smith’s darker side (for which I am perpetually Ithyphallic). 

What makes this album so special is the way that it carries a singer-songwriter feel throughout its duration while still retaining this imaginary, child-like vision that reveals a world while satisfying a very human need (I been reading a lot of Henry James lately).

But even more inspiring is the rawness of Bloodflowers, because that’s what adds a humanness to it. The biggest statement I feel this guys have made is that its okay to be flamboyant, to be expressive, and sometimes even to be miserable. 

And that’s sort of the whole point of why I’m doing this project. The mere existence of feelings in themselves justifies their expression - and so I’m writing an album to remind everyone (including myself) that they valid and precious as fuckn shit.

Thank you,

-B.

[thesinglesjukebox]

SELENA GOMEZ - LOSE YOU TO LOVE ME

[6.17]

We like it like a lose song, maybe...

Alex Clifton: I'm fascinated by songs where singers air their grievances and fans all know which specific people they are calling out. It's one of the reasons I fell in love with Taylor Swift's music way back in the day; I love a good gossip. Over the past eight years, I've worried about Selena with relation to Justin Bieber constantly. Not my relationship, I know, but he seemed like an immature asswipe when Selena could do much better. She's avoided discussing Bieber in much of her previous music. Even the songs that were definitely about him ("Love Will Remember," "The Heart Wants What It Wants") were written in abstract terms so you'd only really know the subject if you spent time following the Selena/Justin drama. Cut to "Lose You to Love Me," where she goes for the kill: "in two months you replaced us," a clear reference to Justin suddenly moving onto his now-wife Hailey. Such a vulnerable and specific track is a strong statement from Selena, who in the past two years has stayed relatively out of the public eye and is now ready to share parts of her story. There's no red scarf here, not that level of minutiae, but frankly she doesn't need it when much of her toxic and turbulent relationship with Bieber played out in the tabloids. And god it's so cathartic. It's an acknowledgement of hurt and anger but a phoenix move for Selena; she's rising from the debris stronger than before, and she wants you to know it. I'm so pleased for her. In the immortal words of her friend Taylor, "she lost him but she found herself and somehow that was everything." [8]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: A decade into her career as one of the world's most popular artists, it's worth noting that Selena Gomez's ascent to fame was improbable. She didn't have the most powerful voice, dance skills, or even a number one hit -- but especially early in her career, she was able to leverage her very public personal life to fuel interest in her music: a Disney fan base, a feud with Demi Lovato which the media loved to cover, membership in Taylor Swift's entourage, and, of course, most significantly, an infamous on-and-off-again relationship. But over the past four years, Selena has developed an effective signature vocal style -- hushed, controlled whispers which burst into moments of pop brilliance -- which makes it clear that her music is more than capable of standing on her own. So it's all the more frustrating then, that after seeing how stellar her music can be removed from celebrity context, that the first song we get off her long awaited third solo album is yet another song about Justin Bieber. But while I initially rejected "Lose You to Love Me" as a regression into formulaic pop balladry, there's a surprising amount of depth. The song sounds like genuine healing, coming from an artist singing her truth. Her voice is soft but powerful, emotive but not overwrought, reflective but not nostalgic. A line like "now the chapter is closed and done" could land cliché and hollow, but Selena sings it like someone who finally took a breath of fresh air for the first time in years. This is all to say: if we have to listen to this one last song about Justin Bieber, at least it's the first genuinely compelling one, and a step in seeing her evolution as an artist and celebrity. [7]

Leah Isobel: When Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake broke up, he got to project his messy breakup feelings outward; he produced imagery about spying on her doppelganger and fantasizing about her death. But for Selena -- Timberlake's 2010s tabloid counterpart -- unrepentant sleaze is a much riskier proposition, at least on the charts. Instead, she sublimates her anger, returning to the baby-voiced Julia Michaels wheelhouse. The mass of vocal effects on the chorus is surprisingly effective, but for an artist who was briefly one of the more progressive voices on Top 40 radio, this defanged "Everytime" is a little disappointing. [4]

Katherine St Asaph: Piano ballads are to music what Joseph Campbell is to narratives. Not a song but a beat on a storyboard -- barely a storyboard, even, but tabloid kerfuffle. [1]

Michael Hong: Selena Gomez's career has long mirrored Demi Lovato's, from child acting stints on Barney & Friends to the release of their fifth studio albums within a week of each other in 2015. Here she goes for something similar to Lovato's "Sober," released last year as a sort of song-as-a-statement -- though Gomez's statement is more uplifting than heartbreaking. "Sober" was a rare instance where Lovato never pushed her voice too far, with its statement made more effective by the events that followed; her confession came across as authentically personal as it unfolded in real-time. "Lose You to Love Me," like "Sober," is stripped down to its bare bones for a more intimate feeling, but here, it's questionable whether the quiet dynamic is one of Gomez's stylistic choices or a symptom of her limited vocal range. There are interesting touches, like the echo-chamber effect on her voice for the line "in two months, you replaced us," which makes the following lines about being broken all the more devastating. But there are also moments like the choir vocals on the final chorus that are predictably overwrought. While "Lose You to Love Me" is a delicately gorgeous and uplifting track, its statement is diminished by how tiresome the Gomez-Bieber narrative feels. We're no longer watching her relationship end in the present, but instead seeing Selena Gomez finally claim closure on a relationship that has long since run its course (at least in the public eye). More interesting is the single released the following day, which features the offbeat personality she's carved out for herself over the past few years and is equally effective at demonstrating that Selena Gomez has moved on. [6]

Alfred Soto: In a tradition of self-reflexive love songs, she tells us she'll sing the chorus off-key (it sounds okay to me). Maybe this line represents one of Selena Gomez's contributions. If I see Julia Michaels, I think of phony uplift, of which the chorus has hints. Then Gomez counters with a slightly hoarse, un-melodramatic dropping of the line, "You promised the world and I fell for it. A performance with grandness in its bones, and it almost succeeds. [6]

Stephen Eisermann: I'm a sucker for big, cathartic choruses, but the verses really let me down here. Between Selena's weird vocal, the melodramatic strings, and the unintentionally funny lyrics (I'm not convinced that the whole singing off-key line isn't a bit that she's delivering with a wink), it's really hard to take the track seriously. But when that big booming chorus hits, backing vocals and all, you can almost feel Selena letting go of everything Bieber did to her. And that, that's lovely. It's also why the other track released after this is so much better. [5]

Joshua Copperman: A song that's perfectly in tune with 2019-type sad music yet unafraid to be huge. It doesn't have the stakes of "Praying" or the bounce of "It Ain't Me," but that's not a problem. The gang vocals that plagued so much of mid-to-late 2010s pop -- including Selena Gomez's own music -- blossom into a full choir, beautifully contrasting with her usual hushiness. It should be Real Music-y --even the lyrics are less playful and twee than Michaels and Tranter usually go, barring the "killing me softly" shoehorn and obvious title -- but because of how thin Gomez's voice sounds, it's not. (The most Michaels-y touch is the backing vocals going "to love, to love" instead of "to love me, love me" like I'd thought, as in "I needed to lose you to love again at all.") The pop most beloved non-mainstream artists are producing is proudly campy, and that's great! Gomez seems to be headed in that direction too with "Look at Her Now," but this unexpected pivot to pathos inexplicably works thanks to the strategic arrangement and lyricism. [9]

Kayla Beardslee: It's fascinatingly difficult to determine where Julia Michaels' style ends and Selena Gomez's begins, and the whispered melodies and "Issues" violins here don't help. Although Gomez's voice can sometimes be aggressively pleasant, she digs in enough to communicate real emotion here, and the choir backing vocals are surprisingly powerful. The song makes a poignant, if heavy-handed, statement about maturing and finding your identity, amplified by this being her comeback single: Ariana has "thank u, next," Miley has "Slide Away," and now Selena has "Lose You to Love Me." [7]

Jackie Powell: While Julia Michaels has commented that Selena Gomez is indeed a songwriter, I still don't believe that's the proper term to describe her contributions to music. Gomez is a storyteller first and foremost. That's the term: storyteller. Sometimes those can be interpreted as synonymous or givens of each other, but let's remember that Gomez has been telling stories since she was seven years old. Her art is most successful when she's in control of her narrative and knows exactly what story she's about to tell. When she has the opportunity to perform her stories, she goes all out and sells it exactly as someone who's been on stage since childhood can. That may sound like something Ariana Grande has done in the past year or so with "thank u, next," since both "Lose You to Love Me" and that highlight some of the most dramatic breakups in pop culture. But as Tatiana Cirisano pointed out for Billboard, Gomez's approach is the contrapositive to Grande's. Both cuts are relatable and have a commitment to empowerment and autonomy, but Gomez makes her track a moment without a teen movie pastiche. Her choice to emphasize and crescendo on the lyrics "In two months you replaced us" and "Made me think I deserved it" speak loudly. This track is all about its dynamics in its minimalistic glory. Imagine Gomez was performing a monologue. That's the type of choice a storyteller makes. Justin Tranter and Michaels provide the melody and the nuts and bolts, but the concept is clearly all Gomez. The backing vocals in each chorus from Tranter and Michaels are symbolic of what they've meant to Gomez over the years. They've been by her side every step of the way and have lifted her up. That's beautiful. What's also beautiful is if I ever wanted to learn more about Justin Bieber, the lyrics "Sang off-key in my chorus / 'Cause it wasn't yours" tell me all I need to know. [8]

Josh Buck: The Selena Gomez x Julia Michaels joints never miss. [6]

Abdullah Siddiqui: Selena Gomez's discography in the last four years has largely consisted of stylistic meandering and incomplete ideas. She hasn't quite been able to settle on a sound or a narrative. This feels like she's starting from scratch. It's a pretty solid place to start. [7]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]