#like i haven’t really clicked with anybody and i’m so bad at being social

[chemicaljacketslut]

yk before coming to college i hoped that i would make friends and try hard to be social, but i also acknowledged the very real possibility that i wouldn’t make friends and i would feel out of place and homesick. and i was like if that happens, it’s okay, i can push thru and have hope for future friends. ermm well. now it has happened and while i haven’t been here long at all and i hope i’ll start clicking with people more i forgot how hard loneliness is for me to deal with like that in conjunction with the new workload and all the big changes of emerging adulthood and i am at my breaking point crying every day within the first month lol

[shushiyuii]

Subject T0M au

This is an Au I’ve had stockpiled for a while wkakdnknak. It’s going to multiple parts too, once I get to working on those. If you have any questions you’re welcome to ask!

I hope you guys enjoy it (Also gimme your fucking requests UwU /lh)

Warnings: Experimentation, injury? And Horror elements (It’s mainly fluff i promise :3)

Words: 3K

Document – T0MMY1NN1T

Assigned to: Doctor Wilbur Soot Watson

Description: Subject T0M was once a [REDACTED] by the name of [REDACTED] [REDACTED]. His age is of kin to an elder teen, probably around the age of [REDACTED] to [REDACTED].

The appearance of Subject T0M is like a human, they have blonde hair and pale skin. Their most common height is 6’3 on average but can change depending on the form. Their face, arms and legs are covered in a black substance of unknown origin, it mainly takes on half of their body and appears to be almost liquid.

Their face is completely black, the only thing apparent is their fangs like a wolf when they open their mouth to feed, multiple fangs, the only other feature on Subject T0M’s face is their light blue eyes that glow in the dark.

Subject T0M isn’t very intelligent, they have some semblance of human intelligence, understanding simple language and commands.

They’re quite approachable as well but Subject T0M is to be approached with caution, as they could be quite dangerous. If angered there’s no knowing what Subject T0M is capable of.

Their abilities consist of being able to manipulate the material of their body, being able to change shape and size, their favourite is to mimic those around them. It is not an exact copy; it is apparent that Subject T0M is themselves because the material of their body will still be there even if they changed forms.

They can also create weaponry and different things from their material but again not exact copies, they’re quite harmless usually.

Subject T0M is to be assigned to Rookie Doctor Wilbur Soot. Under the watch of Philza Watson.

 Entry 01 – 02/09/20—

So today was my first-day researching Subject T0M, from what I can say so far is that they’re quite interesting but so far besides the examinations, they haven’t shown much behaviour. Only staring at me from a distance.

Also, I’m not used to this sort of thing like writing documents and reports, not my favourite thing in the world but it’s not the worst thing either. So, Subject T0M already has a lot of his abilities recorded, I’m just here to see if he develops any noteworthy changes and watch over the guy.

Currently, there is no change in behaviour, he just stares down at me at a distance, like I’m the most interesting thing he’s ever seen, perhaps that’s the case?

He seems so lonely in that containment cell, it’s just an empty white box surrounded by glass, perhaps at some point I could request an upgrade to higher-ups for the lil’ fella? That way he can have a more comfortable place. Rather than a highly lit, bland, cold box.

 Entry 02 – 05/09/20—

So Today, Subject T0M did something quite interesting, it’s a drastic difference from the last few days by just staring at me through the windows of the cells.

You see, instead of just watching me from the other side of the office, as usual, it can get quite boring in the office once you finish the days' assignments of reports, schedules, contracts and more and having to watch this guy and do the usual routine gets quite boring so I decided to work on some personal things and bring my guitar, so I could work on my songs, practising the guitar and stuff.

So, I played some things, the next thing I know is that one moment I’m singing, the next in shock as I look over in disbelief. Subject T0M had moved over towards the window, his hands and face on the glass, dead staring me in my eyes, they were filled with curiosity and interest like an infant listening to music for the first time.

A way to describe it would be that Subject T0M seemed so much happier, but when I stopped, he looked almost disappointed, I stared at him in amazement for a moment and I started to play again, and his expression went back to being amazed.

My music seems to interest Subject T0M so perhaps I should do more research and experiments with different kinds of music to see which they prefer?

Not only that but it’s nice to have someone rather than my dad that enjoys my music. They’re almost my second biggest fan. I’m looking forward to seeing more of this kid.

Entry 03 – 06/09/20—

As of now, I have started the experimentation of music with Subject T0M, he seems to prefer rather upbeat, pop music and general music.

I also played him some songs from popular games, one of them being The Able Sister’s from Animal Crossing, he really seemed to enjoy that one.

Besides the experiments, I’ve started to talk to Subject T0M as it does get lonely here, plus he’s the only other guy here in the department. Although he doesn’t talk, he’s a great listener, nodding whenever I state my opinion and even trying to communicate verbally from time to time, even though he doesn’t seem to have the ability to speak.

And I’ve also seemed to have started a habit of calling Tom or Tommy, it suits him! He’s also been showing more personality, he seems more aggressive like a gremlin but not in a bad way, he’s just displaying more emotion it seems.

Entry 04 – 09/09/20—

So, the experiments and communication of Tommy have made significant progress. He’s become feistier and more vocal, he’s not aggressive in a physical sense, just annoyingly loud. He’s like a fucking child.

And today was another experiment with Tom, with the test subject being myself since it seems safe enough, so need to gather others or security over it.

I entered his containment cell, and the moment I did, Tommy showed no difference in behaviour, to begin with, just a somewhat surprised expression on his face. Probably because this was the first time, he had seen me so close.

I carefully approached at first but then a thought came to me. So far I’ve been treating him like a human so maybe treating him the same way now would have the same effects?

I sat down next to him and started talking to him as usual, and he slowly started to move closer to me, cautiously. He seemed almost nervous, but his focus was on me, rather than himself. I found it rather odd, maybe something is wrong?

Again, he tried talking back but of course, it sounded like a fucking crack pipe, so it didn’t quite work. But he was talking and for some reason, it just brought a smile to my face.

I felt like an older brother would be a way to describe it, I made a promise in my head to protect him. We even tried singing together, it was a lot of fun, I look forward to spending more time with him.

Entry 05 – 12/09/20—

The past couple of days have been a lot of fun with Tommy like I’ve gained a friend. You see, growing up I was always a bit lonely, I was social, but I never found myself clicking with anyone because nobody had the same interests as me, so I turned to focus more on my studies, science in fact like my father told me too. And look at me now!

I’m a training researcher in the same facility as my dad, as this place is one of a kind opportunity, so I guess I got pretty lucky. And it seems Tommy agrees maybe, he reminds me of well me, I don’t want him to be lonely like I was, maybe I could arrange a meeting between other monsters?

Entry 06 – 14/09/20—

Tommy and I have been bonding a lot more lately and I’ve also improved a lot myself with finishing work sooner and taking up more assignments.

Speaking of which my father said if I keep this up, I may get more recognition in the facility, maybe even a promotion which I’m happy about. I’ve sent in a request to the higher-ups to allow Tommy communication of other monsters to which I hope they approve.

Besides that, I was talking to Tommy as per usual and he displayed a different emotion, excitement. He seemed eager to show me something and when I asked, “What is it?”. His form changed to be slightly taller and more of his black substance covered his body but after a while, his form changed to be similar to my own, he tried copying me.

Like physically. It was quite surprising if I’m honest, my shocked expression to Tommy made him realise the situation and immediately changed back and tried to reassure me, I felt bad and tried to reassure him it was okay. It’s funny to look back on.

Entry 07 – 15/09/20—

I got approval from the higher-ups, probably getting special treatment since my dad is one of the higher-ups, others aren’t normally so lucky. Dad, or should I say Doctor Philza? He said we could have a meeting between Tommy and his subject, R4NB00 or as he says Ranboo.

 Dad said that his subject Ranboo does need to socialise more since he appears to have symptoms of social anxiety so maybe this will do them both some good since they both seem to be around the same age. Like Tommy, Ranboo only socialises with him and another subject T3chn0, or the blade, blood god. He’s got quite a reputation around here.

Anyways, I’ll say what I know about Subject R4NB00 as of his report, so I know to look over it in case of emergency.

R4NB00 is a tall humanoid standing above 8 ft tall. They have a black and white fur coat, a thin fur coat to be described as silky. Their coat is black on one side and white on the other, their hair is the same but in the opposite way to his fur.

They have heterochromia in their eyes, one being green and the other a bright red. They also have horns of small height; they aren’t sharp and rather small so they wouldn’t hurt anybody with them. They also have a thin tail, with it being fluffy at the end.

Subject R4NB00 isn’t the biggest fan of the regular attire assigned to all subjects, they rather wear a tuxedo embedded with the facility’s logos. They are also timid, avoiding conflict whenever possible. They also can speak but prefer not to due to being shy, they will only communicate with a select few.

Their abilities consist of having the ability to teleport at will and communicate in an unknown language. They also have weaknesses being unable to touch the water and having a state of mind of when they aren’t in control of themselves, they talk in their unknown language in this state and teleport randomly, they are to be awoken as soon as possible unless they are in this state for a test.

Report 16/09/20-- - Meeting of Subject T0M and Subject R4NB00

Today was the meeting of Subject T0M and R4NB00. Both were properly secured successfully and safely in transportation cells with the required security of 5 guards each in each truck and successfully transported to the meeting facility without stress or failure.

Both researchers were safely secured behind the required monitoring window.

The meeting was rather successful between the two creatures. To begin with, when the two saw each other they both maintained distance, for Subject R4NB00 it was because they were anxious about meeting another creature and for Subject T0M, meeting somebody else rather than their researcher.

Subject T0M was the first to contact Subject R4NB00 by trying to communicate verbally with them, it was unsuccessful and resulted in Subject R4NB00 being confused. The two sat in silence for a moment longer until Subject T0M attempted another move of contact by cautiously approaching Subject R4NB00, which resulted in them backing up into a nearby wall and trying to get away from Subject T0M.

Subject T0M then backed off and changed their form to mimic R4NB00, this is theorised to be Subject T0M trying to either comfort or entertain Subject R4NB00, they then changed back into their regular form.

Despite being confused, Subject R4NB00 seemed to notice that Subject T0M meant no harm and then tried to approach subject T0M. Subject T0M did not move.

When Subject R4NB00 approached, there was approximately 1 meter between the two, Subject R4NB00 looked at the two researchers to look for approval to which he got from Doctor Philza via a thumbs up.

Subject T0M curious looked to where R4NB00 was looking and noticed the two researchers and made a noise of happiness towards his researcher, to which Doctor Soot responded with a smile and a thumbs up.

Both Subjects looked back at each other and sat down beside each other. Subject R4NB00 began to communicate with Subject T0M, Subject R4NB00 introduced themselves and made small communication, to which Subject T0M responded positively too, as they couldn’t communicate back. After that, the meeting was concluded.

After their meeting, when asked about the meeting by their researchers. Subject R4NB00 responded positively to seeing Subject T0M again and talked positively about them despite not being able to communicate.

Subject T0M appeared upset a few moments after the meeting, scratching at the windows of his cell, whining. When asked if he wished to see Subject R4NB00 again, he responded positively. Another meeting between the two has been arranged.

Entry 08 – 17/09/20—

Tommy seems to miss his new friend quite a bit but it’ll be a while before the next meeting between them as it has to be approved again and it’ll be a while.

Doing our normal routine keeps him happy for a while but if I leave him for more than 15 minutes he begins to whine again. I wasn’t quite sure what to do as I couldn’t keep him company all day.

On my lunch break I talked to my co-worker Doctor Puffy about the matter, she’s a smart gal and rather motherly, she reminds me of my mom at times. She suggested that I give Tommy a gift, like a plush bear to befriend so he wouldn’t feel so lonely while I was gone.

So, I quickly made my way to a store, it was rather odd to see myself, an adult in a toy aisle but I found a decent plush. It’s a Minecraft spider plushie. I gave Tommy the plushie and introduced him to the plush, when I asked him what he wanted to name the plush he responded with a sound, it honestly sounded like he said shroud, so I suggested it. He responded happily so I guess we now have Shroud the spider.

Now I’ve got the peril of getting medication for my father as he’s somehow gotten sick.

Incident Report  #19283 – 18/09/20-- -

No staff or other creatures were harmed during the containment breach, minor damages to the building, broken walls and broken windows within the cell. All to be fixed within a minimum of 3 hours. Subject T3CHN0 was successfully contained in a holding cell as we interviewed him as to why he breached containment, to which he responded that “Nobody told me where Phil was.”.

Doctor Philza was then contacted to talk to Subject T3CHN0 to explain his current predicament of being sick, to which Subject T3CHN0 huffed in response and refused to cooperate with us further.

Subject T3CHN0 escaped containment in a rampage, the reasoning being as he was not informed of his researchers’ location, as Doctor Philza was sick for the past two days before the incident. Both researcher and creature are rather close with each other, as to why the Subject was upset.

Prior to the incident (recorded by security cameras), Both Subjects of Doctor Philza were speaking to each other about the current location of their researcher, both concluded that neither of them had any idea of where the Doctor was, both subjects ask their temporary carer as to where their researchers’ location was, to which the carer wouldn’t respond so Subject T3CHN0 decided to find his answers.

Subject T3CHN0 broke through his containment cell’s window and then proceeded to break through multiple walls trying to find his researcher.

(The document then goes into detail about what T3CHN0 did during his rampage before he was contained)

During the rampage, Subject T3CHN0 broke through the walls of Doctor Soot’s office and his creature, Subject T0M. As Subject T3CHN0 entered the office, Doctor Soot was frightened at the unexpected visitor as tried to get away from the approaching Subject T3CHN0, Doctor Soot demanded that he get away, to which T3CHN0 huffed in response.

Subject T0M took some time to register that his researcher was in danger, but when he heard he did, he sprang into the action of defending his researcher.

His form changed into one of being described as fearsome, they changed heights to one over 15 ft tall, his hands turned into claws, long sharp fangs became visible, a sharp tail and pair of horns after appeared with this form. (Doctor Soot has been requested to do further research into this form)

Subject T0M roared in warning towards the other, then proceeded to pounce through their containment cells window, shards of glass scattered throughout the room.

They then ran towards their researcher and in a crouched position, picked up his fallen researcher and held him close to his chest, growling furiously at T3CHN0.

The two Subjects stared at each other for a moment until T3CHN0 began to communicate verbally by asking where his researcher was, Doctor Soot was too much in a state of shock to respond.

Subject T0M held his researcher closer and tried to comfort him in a way of purring, even nuzzling his researcher for a response, to which Subject T3CHN0 left due to being impatient.

Subject T0M continued to hold onto his researcher and eventually Doctor Soot snapped out of his state to stare in awe of Subject T0M, When Subject T0M saw their researcher responding he made worried sounds to them, to which Doctor Soot responded with a laugh and said: “I’m fine buddy”.

Subject T3CHN0 was then contained shortly afterwards.

[shinesurge]

I’ve been holding off on making this post because I wanted to try it out myself and get settled in and make sure everything went okay, but seeing as I’ve gone ahead and updated my site and everything I thought now might be a good time to start talking about this publicly! 

If you’ve known me for more than five minutes you know I fucking hate Webtoon, like, a lot. Every aspect of it disgusts me to the core of my being, and while Webtoon is the ugliest version of them the aspects that I hate also extend to basically any comic aggregate site. I hate that they treat artists like content robots, I hate that they treat comic readers like morons who aren’t capable of engaging with complex stories, I hate that they actively try to strip away all the cool parts of indie comics by cultivating sterile and impersonal environments that discourage artistic experimentation and unique expression.

So! I hope you’ll be interested in what I have to say about this new platform that’s (hopefully) going to be out of alpha this summer. If you think you like reading comics on Webtoon, I really encourage you to check out Dillyhub once it launches. That’s the short version, but I have a LOT to say about this! So I’m putting the rest of this under a cut.

Full disclosure, I’m not getting paid or anything for this. The creative outreach at Dillyhub contacted me a few weeks ago asking if I’d be interested in having Kidd Commander be one of their launch titles when they go live this summer. I was hesitant at first, since I actively distrust anything claiming to be For Creators at this point, but they answered my pushy questions patiently and everything seemed on the up and up so I gave it a shot; I’ve been needing a mobile mirror for KC anyway. Eventually they invited me to the alpha creator discord, where they’ve been working directly with all of us artists to improve the platform, and now to be honest I’m REALLY excited for this thing to get off the ground. Nobody asked me to make this post, but since I’ve spent years whining and bitching about how other services do wrong by their creators, I thought I’d talk about this one that’s doing things right.

So, the biggest advantage this site has for creators over others in my opinion is that it. Treats us like individuals, regardless of follower count lmfao. If you’re a new person just starting out with your new webcomic, here’s what webtoon does for you:

Note: you don’t get a custom banner, you don’t even get to choose the solid color it is. That big circle icon is ALSO the image that shows up in searches, but everywhere else on the site it’s a 100x100px square, so you have to choose whether you want it to look good as a giant circle at the top of your comic’s page OR whether you want to look good in search results. Which, by the way, is the ONLY way for people to find you if you’re not partnered. And that’s it! You have no monetization options, you won’t show up on the genre pages, and when someone DOES stumble across your page it looks super unprofessional. Good Luck! 

Now here’s my Dillyhub page(s):

You don’t get a static banner and one icon, you get a whole carousel banner with as many images as you want front and center as soon as you get to the project page. You get seven (custom!) genre tags, as opposed to Webtoon’s single tag you have to pick from their list, and plenty of room to talk about your work. The episodes are even laid out better, you get a MUCH bigger preview space to work with and they’re nice and big on the bottom half of the page:

you know, like they’re actually presenting ART lmfao.

That’s already an ENORMOUS improvement, but here’s my favorite thing.

o hm that’s a lot of super cushy settings I have for every individual episode, but what’s that, Episode Type?

LIKE.

listen, i know this is probably a bit specialized if you’re not a comic maker yourself, but this is a HUGE DEAL. You can post vertically OR page by page! You can even post pages two at a time for double page spreads, or so they read like a physical comic book! AND their specs are really open, as long as the file meets the size requirement you can make it whatever shape you want. You don’t have to reformat all your shit to post here!! I posted the entire first volume of KC STRAIGHT FROM THE PRINT FILES in like half an hour!!! The episodes can also be any amount of pages, you can post a single page or an entire chapter all in one go!

So that’s just the project page for the comic, let’s see what happens when I click on my username there.

Each author gets their own unique page (which you can tack a vanity url to!) to present themselves however they want! You always have the banner at the top, but beyond that you have a ton of options. Among other incredibly useful tools that really should just be bare fucking minimum at this point, like the ability to preview your page on different devices, you start customizing your blank page with this set of widgets,

and from THERE you can customize them MORE, you can promote your patreon or your kickstarter or whatever! Having this creator space ALSO means that if you run several comics, or if you want to promote your comic AND your illustrations, you can just separate them into individual projects! Each with their own page! This is also really nice as a reader because you can subscribe to a creator but you can also just subscribe to specific projects, if you don’t want to get ALL of their stuff in your inbox. It’s so good y’all hh.

Once again, all of this functionality is just THERE as soon as you make your account. You don’t need to be “partnered” or whatever the fuck, you don’t need to meet a certain follower threshold to unlock the ability to operate normally. You get your own creator space to present yourself how you prefer, you get pages for all your projects, you can even set up monetization options (and change them for individual pages IN a project) right from the start.

ok ok let’s compare this to my webtoon page

oh that’s right webtoon just puts your greyed out name at the bottom of each comic and that’s it because human beings don’t make this stuff, my bad lol anyway

Other fun shit that Dillyhub does that makes me feel like they’re people who have actually consumed or made comics on the internet at some point in their lives:

-When you log into the “studio” space, you’re in your creator account. When you log OUT of the studio space, it’s like you swap to a “reader” account, where you can access your pull list and comment on things with a different name and profile icon. Again, maybe only cool if you’re a creator, but if you ARE then you know exactly why this is incredibly useful lmao

-You can set up “hidden” projects, so if you only want certain things to be accessible by certain people or to not show up in searches that’s an option! You have SO much control here it’s great.

-The comment section has moderation options GODDD. You also have a real comment space, you know, so it actually encourages building a community (and a rapport with your community, if you like), and you also can just turn comments off entirely if you want! I haven’t used it much yet, obviously, but it’s been made very clear in the discord that artists want better control over their comment sections and the devs have it on their priority list.

-Absolutely every step of customization gives you a preview before it’s live, so you can easily see what these images you’re posting in different places are going to look like before you beam them to your followers’ inboxes. This includes individual episodes!

-This was sort of in one of the screenshots but it’s important so I’m saying it here too: the option to mark individual episodes as mature or with content warnings, rather than having to mark an entire comic as Mature Spooky Scary Content because of one or two pages getting a bit hairy.

This site is only in alpha right now, and it’s invite-only until they get to beta (for creators; anyone can make a reader account! but they haven’t set up a way to browse comics without direct links yet so) but honest to god it’s already blowing every other site I’ve used clean out of the water. And the staff has been really kind and responsive to us proposing fixes or changes! I will always defend individual websites as being the best option for an indie comic, but everybody’s gotta start somewhere and we NEED something that isn’t Tumblr or Webtoon to fill this role; this site feels a lot more like a symbiotic relationship than any of the other staples available for new creators right now. If you’re a comic reader and you want to see your favorite comics on Dillyhub I’d suggest keeping an eye on this site and once it’s live start poking them to look into it, and if you’re a creator follow their social media and hop in when they open up for anybody to join. I would LOVE to see this site take off as a viable option for hosting and reading comics.

Thanks for reading all this! I haven’t quite finished setting up yet, but if you want to poke around a project/creator page for yourself mine is here have at it. As things progress I’m sure I’ll have more to say, but since I’m usually so aggressively negative about places like this I just wanted to give some credit where it was due. fucking finally.

[lord-explosion-baku]

Our Love Is God pt. 2

Dabi x Reader

Warnings: mentions of noncon/somnophilia, abortion, dark themes, yandere characteristics, dabi just being a rat tbh

A/N: so like I said that I’d get back to this fic when I got bored or other, more important things were a drag to write and, well, I got bored/other,more important things were a drag to write. TW for talk of abortion. Dabi doesn’t take things lightly and thinks certain things that may make anybody who has had an abortion or has deep feelings about abortion either really guilty or really angry, but that’s not the point. The point of this fic is that he’s a bastard and not a savior. This is pretty short! And yes I plan on writing more, but that’s when I get bored or other, more important things are a drag to write!

Dabi found himself panting when he finally lifted himself up onto your balcony. It had been, what, almost two months since he’d last snuck into your room? Too long, but you hadn’t called him, and he had been busy to see what the hell was up with you. Now he had a couple days to himself, and he couldn’t shake the pestering feeling of wanting to spend them with you.

The door to your balcony was unlocked, thank god; he really didn’t want to have to burn the knob off—why make a reason for you to get pissed at him already? Dabi smirked. You were fucking cute when you were angry, but he wanted his return to be at least a little pleasant.

Unsurprisingly, you were passed out underneath that ugly-ass, pink canopy, snoozing away peacefully and unexpecting. Your bed was built for a princess, but with you sprawled out on your back with your arms splayed apart, your tank-top rising up to expose your soft belly, and your blanket tossed down so only one of your feet were covered, you looked nothing short of a cavewoman. Still hot though, and Dabi missed you.

That was it. Dabi missed you. He never really expected to miss anybody he fucked. He made plenty of girls mad in the past, so when you last kicked him out, it shouldn’t have been any different. He’d gotten used to a routine: sleep with some chick, piss her off, do crime, then forget about her. But since the night you’d kicked him out, he couldn’t get your bratty fucking face out of his damn mind. Was it that you were stubborn? Or was it that you came across as such a lil do-gooder, daddy’s favorite princess and all that bullshit, when you were really just a filthy slut on the inside?

“What is it about you that makes me crazy, baby?” Dabi asked aloud, tracing a finger up from the hemline of your pajama shorts to your bare ribs. He watched goosebumps appear on your tummy and flattened them out with the palm of his hand.

Your only response was a soft snore. Dabi scoffed.

The first time he fucked you, you had been asleep. Or at least, you were asleep when he began. He visited you a couple nights after he and Twice tried to loot your father’s safe. He’d thought you were a cute little shit, and just wanted to see your frightened face again. He climbed in through the balcony and found you asleep in your bed like you were now, only you were laying on your stomach. After sniffing around your room a little, he couldn’t help but crawl into your bed. He wanted to hear you scream, but you stayed asleep, even when Dabi’s hands inevitably started exploring your body.

Dabi couldn’t forget how deliciously wrong it felt to pet your pert little ass while you slept, how exciting it was to rub a knuckle over your clothed slit, how incredibly hot it was for you to cry out when he plunged two fingers into your sopping wet pussy. Yes, you cried, but you also moaned, and Dabi felt you clench around his fingers when he wrapped his free hand around your neck, pulled you back, and whispered to you, “I’m gonna fuck you, and you’re gonna love it, babydoll.”

Dabi made good on that promise that night. You took him so well, and it really didn’t take him all that long to get you to sing for him. You liked being taken advantage of, and Dabi learned that the more aggressive he was with you, the easier it was to make you cum. And oh, baby girl, it was just too easy to make you cum.

He was hard now, and he wanted to fuck you, but he wouldn’t. Even though you snored, there was something peaceful about watching you sleep. Of course, that didn’t stop him from palming your breasts, if only just to see your nipples pop against your tank top.

“Why haven’t you texted, huh? Was I really all that bad to you?” Dabi’s voice was soft against your neck as he placed gentle kisses along your warm flesh. He nuzzled his nose behind your ear and inhaled deeply, taking in the aroma of your washed hair. “You know I could be real good to you if that’s all you want from me…”

Calloused fingers brushed across flowery lips, the vast contrast between him and you burning a hole into his chest. He leaned over to see your mouth part subtly, invitingly. Dabi took the initiative and planted a light kiss on you. He whispered, “there’s no way you haven’t missed me a tiny bit.”

At this, you hummed, and Dabi felt tension melt from his shoulders. That was an affirmation if he’d ever heard one, which gave him permission to run both of his hands down your sides to take their sharpened places at your hips. He pulled you against his hardened groin and let himself grind his strain courteously into you.

“You know how hot you are, babe? You know how much I missed having you wrap around my cock?” God, he wanted you. He wanted to be inside of you. He wanted to kiss you, and mark you, and love you, and-

You let out a little, “uhh,” from the very back of your throat. Dabi could have damn well nearly melted into you from that tiny noise. He could only imagine what squeaks and squeals you had saved up from him when you woke up.

For a moment, he thought that he would break his resolve to not fuck you—you wanted him to anyhow—and honestly, he probably would have, had it not been for your phone lighting up, snapping his attention to your side table. It buzzed twice, which he could have ignored, and then two more times, which made Dabi grab it, reading the I.D. tag, ‘Daddy.’

Dabi scoffed and used your thumb to unlock your phone. He found that it was your father that texted you, asking about a visit to the doctor’s you made. Dabi kicked back on your bed and decided to dive into the depths of your phone, check your social media PM’s, calls you’d made, etcetera.

There were quite a few messages from boys in there. Some of them were coming on to you, others were asking when they’d see you again. Dabi’s jaw clenched when he read those messages, but he was pleased to see that you’d left all those jagoffs on read, even the ones who were more persistent. Dabi would be lying if he said he didn’t go out and sleep with a couple chicks while you were there ignoring him. You couldn’t blame him. He was a man with needs. But he never called them again. None of them mattered like you mattered, and by the look of things, it seemed like you felt the same way.

Dabi checked your photo album, finding nothing more interesting than the racey selfies you took of yourself, probably trying to feel good about yourself (Dabi sent those pictures to his own phone, before deleting the evidence). Then he went to your search history, smirking at the very specific websites you visited.

“You’re absolutely filthy,” he chuckled in the middle of watching a video you seemed to frequently visit. He couldn’t wait to try this out on you—a little make up sex surprise. In response, you turned in bed, throwing your arm around Dabi’s lap, your elbow just a few centimeters from his erection. Dabi frowned down at you, and clicked out of the video, knowing that it was just gonna spur him on. He decided to look back to see what you searched when you’d last saw him—see if you looked up anything close to ‘sex with a villain’ or the like. But he didn’t find that. What he found was weird. What he found made a pit form in the bottom of his stomach.

‘how to deal with heartbreak’ first caught his eye. Dabi thought that this could have been about him but this was about seven weeks after he’d last seen you. As he kept scrolling, it only got worse.

‘depressed after termination’

‘how to stop the pain without taking medications’

‘best ways to clean blood off of linens’

‘discrete doctors near azabu’

‘should i tell the guy im not dating about pregnancy?’

‘is there anything i can eat to not be oregano?’ (Dabi couldn’t even sneer at ‘oregano.’)

‘top 10 signs you are pregnant’

Dabi’s chest constricted. He nearly dropped the phone on your arm, but that would definitely wake you the hell up. “Pregnant?” He whispered out loud. It only made sense. Dabi never wrapped himself up with you like he did with other girls. There was something so fucking dirty about you taking him raw when he knew you didn’t want to. He knew you were clean because you didn’t fuck around—at least, not before him, which made his frown deepen.

Fuck. Despite the unusual shattered feeling Dabi felt deep in the pit of his stomach, he was still so fucking hot for you. He turned you over so that you were on your back again so he could examine your belly. He kissed you below your navel, wondering that if you hadn’t been ‘depressed after termination’ would there already be a little bump there?

There was a brief flash of a little hand pressing against the swollen stomach of a white haired woman, but Dabi quickly shook that memory away.

“Why, babe?” Dabi kissed your stomach again. Seriously, why? Did you think Dabi would be a shit dad? He probably would be! But he’d still be a dad, if he were raising a kid with you. Did you not know that? And it wasn’t like you didn’t have the funds to raise a healthy child with everything it could ever want and more! You were a spoiled brat and you would’ve raised an equally spoiled brat, and Dabi would’ve loved the hell out of the kid! What the fuck?!

Dabi’s mental fit was interrupted from a little bleep! chiming from your phone. It was from Snapchat, of course, because you were a little social media whore. Not even caring how it could look once you woke up, Dabi opened the snap to see a picture of city lights taken from high above with a little tag that read, ‘wish you were here.’ The user who sent it was nicknamed ‘K’ and their username was something indecipherable. Probably just another one of your rich-bitch friends, showing off the view from their penthouse apartment.

Dabi discarded your phone on your bed and brushed his hands through his spiky hair, cursing softly. He decided to leave then. He needed time to think and reflect. He’d have to bring this up to you sooner or later...if not, he’d figure out a way to work himself back into your life. You probably hadn’t called because you were feeling guilty, rightfully so. That didn’t mean he didn’t want to have you anymore. In fact, he wanted you more than ever before.

Jumping out of your window, Dabi decided then and there that he’d be back. He’d make you talk. And he figured that if he could get you pregnant once, he sure as hell could do it again. Easy peasy. He’d have you calling him daddy again in no time.

TAGS FOR EVERYTHING (CLOSED): @ayeputita @yandere-inamorata @dee-madwriter @unboundbnha @rizamendoza808, @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten @rubycubix​ @zellllyyyy​@sarcastictextstuck@kpanime @captain-sin-allmight-queen @psionicsnow@wickedlewicked @ghost-of-todoroki @kattariapenn@im-an-adult-sometimes @bnhya @local-senpai@eggpienutbuttercroissant@usernamekate94 @reyvenclaww @hi-ho-and-hello

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Seven

Ao3,   Masterpost,  C.1   C.2   C.3   C.4   C.5   C.6

Relationships: eventual queer-platonic intruality, platonic dlampr.

okay. so. last time we heard anything out of me was *New Years*, Literally, and maybe i should’ve mentioned that I was taking a little hiatus, but oh well. i’m back now and i’m gonna post the last three chapters of this fanfiction as soon as I possibly can (so probably like all of them will be up by tmrw at the latest!!) to make up for my absence. but jokes on you, cuz I did actually finish this thing!!! >:P 

(oh yeah, and there are no italics, thanks to tumblr’s copy/paste bulls//t. i continue to be lazy :3 if anything sounds stilted just imagine that theres an italicized word there and yeah.)

Warnings: cursing, sexual innuendo, discussions of sexuality, misunderstandings, Emotional Conversations, sharing a bed, mild body horror (remus’ existence lol), stress, h/c. 

Word count: 7,967

The hallway was cold, and dark. It had been long-since abandoned of any life, with every door shut and each light dimmed- even Virgil’s. That day- the day of the meeting- had exhausted everyone enough to send them right to sleep mode. 

Everyone except Remus and Patton.

Their heart-to-heart in the kitchen had dragged on a little longer than either had expected, letting night descend fully over the Mindpalace. Patton was the one to notice the time eventually, and drag his less-than-restful friend up the stairs with him- he could tell that the other was dead tired, though. His stubborn determination not to end the conversation didn’t sit well, but Patton couldn’t think what to make of it, and they really did need some sleep. 

They reached Patton’s door first. He stopped in front of it, when Remus tugged his hand back insistently. He turned to him, letting out a confused hum, and was met with a scowl and a sigh.

Remus was looking even more resigned than he had when they first started talking that night. Patton waited, worried. 

“This isn’t, um,” Remus exhaled, ragged around the edges. “This isn’t a pick-up line, okay, and I know that it’ll sound that way and I know that it’s me but. I really don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

Oh. 

Patton’s heart ached- and his heart was big, it took up most of him. He felt the pain spread out from his center and into his fingertips and toes, hot and empathetic. Because how could he hear something like that, and not want to spend the rest of the night doting on the creature in front of him until that voice never sounded so small again, till he was as big and confident as he was meant to be?

“I don’t think I want to be alone, either,” Patton said.

Remus stared, his big scarlet eyes casting a faint glow in the dark. They were wide, cautiously hopeful.

“Yeah?” He muttered.

“Yeah.”

Patton opened the door, and led them both inside.

Remus shuffled around on the other side of the bed, but Patton was still, however much he wanted to squirm.

“Um.”

The movement stopped, and he flushed at the feeling of being watched in the dark. There really was no un-awkward way to say it, was there?

“Remus, since you’re staying, do you- um, do you mind doing me a favor?” 

Remus, little more than a silhouette, propped himself up on his elbow, a tilt to his head. “A favor? Of course, anything for you, Pat,” his words were a purr, and Patton could envision the suggestive smirk on his face in perfect clarity. Patton felt another well of discomfort bubble in his stomach.

“Could you at least wear some clothes, please?” 

There was a beat. Remus laughed, short and good-natured. 

“Yeah, I sorta figured I would. It’s no problem.”

“Thank you,” Patton sighed, relieved. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he paused, and that really would’ve been the end of it, but Patton had learned by then when Remus was about to make a joke. He took a little breath while the words were still clicking together in his head, and a grin crept into his voice. “There’s always tomorrow night to try this clothesless, eh?”

“I’m asexual,” Patton blurted, and he could feel the heat radiating from his face, though he didn’t even know why he was so uncomfortable. It was a joke, Remus was just joking. They were friends and Patton should’ve been used to it- but he’d already gotten so sensitive that night, and jokes like that always hit just a little different than the violent ones or the curses. It must have been a breaking point, or something. 

Remus shifted again, laying on his back. Patton wondered if he’d made things awkward. 

“Oh,” Remus said, “Oh wow, that makes so much sense!”

“It- It does?” Patton sat up, staring at the other with a mix of surprise and relief. Remus blinked up at him, nodding. 

“Well, yeah, that explains why you get so squirmy whenever anybody even implies something to do with sex. I always thought you were just, like, a prude.”

Patton ran his hands over the comforter that pooled around his legs, shrugging. He wasn’t nervous, so much as he was fidgety. “Well, maybe it was some of that, too,” he joked. 

Remus snorted, rolling onto his side and catching one of Patton’s hands in his own. He held it, playing with Patton’s fingers like he was trying to focus. 

“Hey,” he sighed, heavy, “Sorry.”

“Huh? What for?”

“C’mon, you know,” Remus gestured around with his free hand, “All the jokes, and all the times I hit on you, like, graphically. I was kidding, obviously, it was just that you always had the best reactions. If I’d known why, I mean. I don’t know if I’d have actually stopped, but whatever. Different time, different me. I’m stopping now, kay?”

Patton’s eyes went wide. He hadn’t- He wasn’t trying to make Remus stop, that wasn’t fair. He knew how important staying true to himself was to Remus, and if he’d actually managed to guilt-trip any of that away, he didn’t think he’d forgive himself.

“Oh, it’s really okay, I mean- I know you like talking about stuff like that, who am I to say you shouldn’t?”

“You never said that, actually.”

Patton nodded, even if Remus couldn’t see him, and even if he was pretty sure they were on different pages. “Exactly. You shouldn’t go changing just to make me comfortable, I’ll get used to the jokes! I guess I just wanted to know that they were, which, obviously yeah, but… um, I’m bad with knowing what tone is which, sometimes, so-”

“Ugh, Patton,” Remus was laughing, leaning up and grasping tighter around Patton’s hand, with a tone that said plainly: please shut up. Patton did, biting the inside of his cheek. “Look,” Remus huffed, “I know what you’re trying to say, and it’s real sweet that you’re so worried about this, but it’s not exactly like I’m telling you that I’m reinventing myself. I’ll definitely keep saying plenty of horny shit, trust me, I can just drop it with the comments about ya. It wouldn’t even be funny anymore; fucking with people is cool, right, but making someone I actually like feel ‘icky’, or whatever, isn’t really the same thing. It’s no big sacrifice trying to make you feel safer with me, got it?”

Remus’ eyes were on his, glowing with concern. Patton felt his face flush for an entirely new reason, nothing to do with embarrassment.

“You want to make me feel safe?” Patton grinned, just this side of giddy. “That’s a new one.”

Remus made a vague grumbly sound; it shouldn’t have been as cute as it was. “Yeah, okay, so what if I do?”

“It’s okay if you do. It’s sweet.”

“Maybe it is. Besides, you aren’t the only aspec side around,” he shrugged, “I’m not too big on the dating side of things, myself.”

Patton’s smile widened. “Thank you. I mean, for understanding, and… getting me out of my own head about all this.”

“I gotcha,” a claw traced over Patton’s knuckles, idly, “No need for thanks.”

“I’ll give it anyway, you know that.”

Remus snorted. “Mhmmm.”

With the remains of embarrassment finally fading away, Patton yawned, and remembered just how tired he was. He laid himself down finally, relaxing as his back hit the mattress. No sooner after he’d done so, Remus was letting go of his hand in favor of curling around him and setting his head on Patton’s chest. 

Patton would be lying if he said it wasn’t a relief, feeling the other unhesitant to curl up against him still. He looped his own arms around the smaller figure, practically on top of him, and traced patterns against Remus’ back. 

In hindsight, Patton couldn’t remember ever falling asleep so easily. 

The morning after, there was a crisis. A Thomas-crisis, and an emotional one, which set Patton up for a busy, busy day (or morning-through-afternoon, but it was well more than enough work for one day). The one upside to the whole mess was that he didn’t have to deal with it alone, because emotional distress fell neatly into Virgil’s area of expertise as well as his own.

At some point, you’d think they’d get numb to the endless dilemmas every other day, but with each new outing it got clearer and clearer that panic was just a part of life. Most weeks had at least one incident; there would be a mistake at the post office that needed to be worked out in person (which Patton didn’t mind, really, but Virgil hated, and Roman thought was a waste of time), there was an event for a friend of a friend that for some reason they were socially obligated to go to (which no one liked but Roman, who always thought they were one person away from being ‘discovered’), or- the present situation- there were pre-established plans that all the sides had somehow forgotten about until they were shoved into it at the last second.

Patton jolted awake with a gasp, the urgency of his human throwing him out of sleep. It was a full two hours later than he usually woke up, something he would’ve loved to appreciate on any other day. His bed was already empty- the warmth of another person still there, the covers still scrunched, but empty- which did serve to make his morning routine quicker. He dressed with a fervor that he couldn’t even place, manic exhaustion already soaking into him and making plans to stay there all day. It was going to be a rough one, being around people. 

But, Patton knew it wouldn’t be hard to ignore all that, for a little bit at least. There was still a bright side, and that side was Virgil! Who he got to spend all day with! Working, sure, but still- work done with a loved one is never work at all.

“Yeah, I don’t know if that rings true, Pat,” was Virgil’s response to the sentiment, when Patton told him.

“You’re smiling,” Patton said, because he was.

“What?” Virgil covered his mouth, “No, I’m not- shut up.” 

“You believe me, I know you do. You looove me.”

“Says you,” his mouth may have been covered, but the crows feet under his eyes creased more. His shoulders were just a little less tense, too, enough to tell Patton he was right. 

That morning wasn’t great, but, they made it better.

Remus had woken up in a lot of places that were decisively not his bed. The floor? Sure. The imagination? Oh, absolutely. Underneath furniture, on top of furniture, and on counters- anywhere lie-down-able, been there and done that. Just for the fun of it, really, and a nice shock to whoever found him curled up in the sink or beneath cabinets. He was used to a crick in the neck or a splotch of red, rough carpet print on the side of the face. 

So he didn’t really know why, waking up in someone else’s bed, he jolted out of it so quick, he looked like he’d been electrocuted. Or why, after scrambling out of Patton’s arms with whatever carefulness he could manage, he bolted from the scene entirely.

Remus began the slow process of piecing it together after he all but slammed the door behind him, trembling and cursing his way down the hall. He dragged away from Patton’s room and let his back hit the wall, sliding to the floor with a kind of hysteria he could only describe as itchy-vomity-terrifying-amazing. 

He did itch at his skin, he was feeling a bit sick, a bit scared, but he thought he might’ve been grinning anyway, so the description fit well enough. Except, nothing was fitting actually well, right then.

The closeness. The attention. The fact that he’d spent eight hours of sleep getting a full dosage of both those things. The fact that it had been more of both of them than he could remember getting, ever. Of course he’d scrambled away- how else could he react!?

Remus didn’t get overwhelmed. Except, apparently he did! What another fun surprise!

A door creaked open down the hall (thank God not Patton’s). Remus felt the eyes on him, and looked up- manically, he looked well and truly manic.

Logan blinked at him. He looked a lot like an owl in the mornings, Remus noted. One of those smart ones, obviously, not one of the ones that fucks around counting licks on a lollipop. 

Logan cleared his throat. 

“Remus? Is everything alright?” 

Remus shrugged, grinning. “Maybe! Who knows, though, right? It’s a lot, you know?”

Logan did not know, and said as much. Remus only laughed, letting his head hit back against the wall in the process.

He still felt warm, inside and out, after all that cuddling. It was weird, good-weird, but still so new. And, like he said, a lot. He’d felt that kind of warmth before, but definitely not as much- and he knew he needed to distract himself before he went crazy. Or, before his rattrap of a brain ruined the maybe-possibly good feelings for him. 

“Hey, any chance you’re busy today?”

Logan hovered in his doorway for a minute before ultimately deciding to step out, probably determining the interaction as a prolonged one. He didn’t look too put-off about it, though.

“A very high chance,” he said, “But for now I am not. Is there something you need?”

“A distraction.”

“Ah.”

“So, you up for it?” Remus pulled himself up from the floor, popping a few joints. “At least for the morning, yeah, Geek?” 

“Of course,” he smirked, “Provided you can call me by actual name at least once in this conversation.” 

Remus grinned, probably coming off more relieved than he intended. “Eh, we’ll see about that one, Dweeb.”

Logan met him halfway down the hall, not looking at all surprised by the response. He looked, if anything, amused. Remus found himself remembering very abruptly that the two of them got along, were probably friends, and somehow that fact was still novel to him. Or maybe it was the mood. Probably both.

“Well, it was worth a try,” Logan reasoned.

“Oh, sure.”

“What were you thinking we should do, anyway?”

Remus raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“I’m afraid that’s off the table,” Logan told him.

“Aw, fine. Surprise me, then.”

“That will be hard.”

Remus laughed, unsteady and shrill.

“C’mon, I know you’ve got it in ya.” 

Logan smiled, just-nearly-almost mischievous. “Well. I’ll see what I can do.” 

And for just a second, some of the panic slipped away, leaving behind that strange warmth. 

Patton didn’t exactly let Janus know he was coming by. It had been a long day- or, a long five hour period between ten in the morning and three in the afternoon, but still, the idea that there was any day left at all made Patton want to melt into the nearest soft object and never get up. 

When Patton needed to melt, he went to Janus’. Maybe it was the big armchairs; maybe it was the comforting, gooey little white-lies that soaked the atmosphere of his room; maybe it was the fact that his voice was so very easy to fall asleep to. Most likely, at least part of it was because he always seemed to enjoy taking care of people, anyway. 

It was a nice combination, and exactly what was needed. Patton could apologize for not knocking later, ideally when he wasn’t falling asleep where he stood. 

“Janusss,” he groaned, by way of greeting, and promptly collapsed onto the nearest soft surface while the door swung shut behind him. 

Janus blinked at him from across the room, surprise lasting for approximately three seconds. He turned around, and sighed.

“Well, hello to you, too.”

Patton hummed, drearily.

“You look cheery,” Janus quipped, “Anything you’d like to talk about?” 

The question was spoken lightly, but not insincere. Patton lifted his head enough to smile tiredly at the snake. He shrugged, for the room was working it's magic already, as was the easy company to be found there. Stress was easing away, in small bits, evaporating into warm shimmers under his skin. He had no doubt that Janus was doing some of it on purpose, as soon as he’d noticed the mood Patton was in, giving him a blanket of speckled reassurances (which were, as Janus insisted to him time and time again, just a tiny, harmless breed of pleasant lies) in an almost-literal way. 

Most things about the sides’ rooms were like that. Almost-literal; concepts that crept their way into the physical world, if only slightly. Janus was the best at those kinds of things, though. 

“’S just been a tiring day, y’know?” 

Janus sat beside him, toying with some spare yellow strings, weaving and unweaving them almost carelessly. “I do.”

“A tiring night, too,” Patton added, an afterthought, but he found as he said so that it was true. Long in a good way. An impactful way. It felt like something important had happened, something that changed, but he didn't quite know what. It was still just as draining, though.

Janus raised an eyebrow, but he did not pry (even if he most likely wanted to).“So, you’ve come here.”

“Do you mind if I just rest in here for a bit?” He said, as he’d already gotten quite comfortable.

“Why don’t I do you one better?”

Patton hummed confusedly, but Janus had already begun urging him to sit up. The snake waved a hand, filling the room with light, swirling piano music. At once the air seemed to grow fuzzy, spicks and specks of what looked like golden glitter floating around- not unlike from the distortion Patton’s own room gave him when he was happy. Janus smiled down at him, summoning a neat little tea set on a tray and fixing them each a cup of the swirling, caramel-colored liquid. 

Patton sighed happily, taking the teacup he was proffered and thanking the lord for whatever he’d done to deserve a friend like Janus. 

Janus sat beside him, balancing the tea tray on an end table, and let their shoulders bump. He wasn’t a touchy person, exactly, but he allowed for a conservative amount of casual intimacy. Occasionally, and in an unspoken way, but still.

The atmosphere had exactly the intended effect. Patton felt paradisiacal. 

“Gosh, what would any of us do without you?” 

Janus hummed. “You’d most certainly perish.”

Patton laughed, his chest lighter already. 

Remus felt good for about ten seconds after leaving Logan’s room and letting the guy get to work, fresh off the good morning he’d had. Then, very promptly, the weight that the remaining hours of daylight carried dropped onto his shoulders, and he would’ve been perfectly willing to claw his brain out to get a moment of reprieve from the whole barrage of irrational terror worming around in it.

Remus didn’t know why it was so bad that day (well- he had a guess, but thinking about it obviously made it suck worse, so). What he did know was that he needed someone to keep fucking distracting him, and that someone could under no circumstances be Patton.

Luckily, avoiding him wasn’t hard- he was still busy, and Remus had a feeling he’d need a rest once Thomas’ crisis was over, anyway- but that didn’t do much to solve the other half of Remus’ problem.

He needed something big, loud, and most importantly, not solo. He needed someone that could take up a whole room just as easily as himself, with endless energy to bounce back and forth, back and forth, until neither of them would ever worry about anything other than the moment and whatever it was they would do together… 

Oh, god fucking dammit. 

Remus sunk out to the Imagination. No, not his. The opposite half.

He rose up into more than a blank canvas, but less than a finished work; a vibrant world with gaps and white spots. He might’ve taken the time to look around, but- unsurprisingly- his brother was in front of him, accosting him, immediately. Seriously, it was like he’d teleported. 

“What are you doing here?” Roman snapped, his hands, still splattered with ink, landing on his hips. 

“Aw, so now I’m not even allowed to visit my own flesh and blood, and other various parts?” 

Roman scrunched his nose up. “No, you aren’t allowed. This is my room!”

Remus- as he always did when someone said he couldn’t do something- cackled. 

“I’m serious!” Roman whined, “I’m busy!”

Now, he said that, but Remus knew from personal experience that if Roman wanted him gone, he could’ve forced him out without too much issue- or worse yet, attacked him outright. He didn’t seem to be about to spring, though, not looking any worse than annoyed, so Remus happily decided that this interaction fell into the normal-and-healthy-sibling-bickering category instead of the unfortunately familiar would-genuinely-commit-fratricide-if-possible category. 

He grinned. “Yeah, and I’m bored!”

“Not my problem, and you’re still in my room.” 

“What, worried I’ll gunk up all your magic ponies and Yellow Brick Roads, or whatever it is you like to play with around here?”

“Yes, I am!” Roman scowled, but it looked a lot like he was straining his jaw not to laugh. “And you know I don’t make those, you fiend, I made a unicorn once and that was only because Logan wanted one.”

“You’re shitting me if you say that you weren’t the kid who always wanted a pony, Ro.”

“Well, how’s a pony any better than a thestral, which I seem to remember someone getting all excited about when we first read the-books-that-shall-not-be-named?”

“Ooh! Good idea, we should abso-fucking-lutely make those!” Remus wandered past his brother, looking around at the half-finished scene that he’d walked in on. It was sunny, pleasant- all around very vanilla, but there was at least a sense of adventure thrumming under it that gave the place a kick. With some work, it could actually be, like, fun! “Ever see somebody die? Don’t worry, I can help with that.”

Roman turned to him, looking hilariously incredulous with what was happening.

“Um? Excuse me? This is my domain,” he blinked, and a smug smirk crossed his lips. “Which means that you don’t have the power to make anything here! So, ha!”

Oh, right. That made a lot of sense, actually. How had he forgotten that? It wasn’t like this was the first time he’d tried to make something with his brother, right? 

…Wow. That had no business hurting as much as it did.

“Uh- Remus?” 

His head snapped up, a smile with too-many teeth already strained across his face. Remus’ head was scattered enough, coming here wasn’t supposed to make it worse.

“Sure, okay- there’s gotta be some way for us to build stuff together!” 

Roman stared appraisingly at his sibling, apparently thinking before he argued for the one and only time in his life. He tilted his head in confusion, perhaps worry. 

“I- well-” Roman glanced at what he’d been making, and down at his hands. “I’m sure I could, perhaps, let you have power here. Just this once.” He huffed. “It’s my room, right? So there’s no reason why I couldn’t do that, if I wanted.”

“Do you?” 

“Ugh.” Roman rolled his eyes, perfunctorily. “Fine. I don’t know what’s up with you, but I’d rather you be your normal weird-self than… whatever this is,” Roman stuck his hand out, his chin raised like it was a challenge. “Good?”

Remus grabbed his hand (and did not buzzer him, or slime him, even though it would have been so easy- because they were having A Moment and even he could appreciate the sanctity of something like that). 

“Yeah,” he said. “We’re good.”

Roman, as it turned out, was able to tolerate Remus for a whopping six hours, right up until five p.m., and only shooed him away in order to finish the project that he’d more-or-less happily dropped when Remus stopped by. So Roman wasn’t the worst brother in the world, Remus acknowledged. He then resolved to never, under any circumstances, say that to Roman’s face. 

The door to the Imagination shut with a click. The sound matched almost perfectly with another, sharper one down the hall, what Remus recognized as Janus’ door closing. He glanced up with a grin, wondering if he could maybe get Snakey to distract him for a while- only to lock eyes with precisely what he needed distracting from.

Patton smiled at him. He looked tired, relaxed, and raised a hand in some semblance of a wave. It would probably be a great opportunity to unwind together, talk stuff out, and definitely curl into each other on the couch.

Remus wasn’t going to take that opportunity, though.

Remus stared back at Patton for all of three seconds, the grin sliding off his face, before barging through the nearest door and slamming it behind himself. 

Shit. Fuck. What the hell did he do that for? It was just Patton, Remus knew Patton; there was no reason to be jittery enough to bolt from him twice. There was no way Patton wouldn’t think he was mad- which he wasn’t, even if he barely understood why he was losing it, he knew it wasn’t anger. But Patton wouldn’t know that, and he’d cry, probably, and Remus wasn’t sure if he was good enough at comforting people to fix it after. Christ, maybe he couldn’t fix it, maybe he’d still be too keyed up to talk to Pat, even if he started bawling! 

“Hey? What the fuck?”

Remus spun around, and yeah, he could’ve guessed whose room he ended up in without the gravelly voice to give it away, given that little spiral. A surprised-looking Virgil stared up at him, sitting cross-legged on a spiderweb bedspread. 

Remus ignored the thin layer of anxiety still rolling under his skin (now that he could place it), and shrugged, sliding until he sat on the floor.

“Oh, hi,” he said.

“Yeah, hi to you too, but my question still stands:” Virgil clapped his hands together, “What. The fuck?” 

Remus considered a few possible snarky responses, but found that most of them were pretty pathetic. Besides, evading vulnerable situations was more of Janus’ thing, and Remus didn’t want to steal his bit. 

“I’m hiding like a little bitch, so don’t kick me out, or I’ll maul you.”

Virgil’s eyebrows went up, but the surprise in his face was being replaced, slowly, by confused resignation. “Okay, cool. Why here, and why me?”

“First door.”

“Yeah, that’s about my luck,” he blew his bangs out of his face, “So like, you’re not gonna go anywhere else?”

Remus thought about it, but it was an easy choice. If he was gonna whine to anybody about something like this, he decided, it’d probably be Virgil. Virgil was good with fear, he was good with Patton, and he was good at making fun of shit if a conversation got too serious. 

“Nah. Sorry, Emo Boy, but I’ve already annoyed Logan and my dipshit brother today. Looks like it’s your turn!”

“What about Janus?”

“Eh, he’s a live-in therapist for the rest of you already. I think I’ll give him the day off.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, sighing with all the exasperation of a teenage burnout and not a thirty-year-old metaphysical humanoid.

“Okay, okay- and why’s Patton off the table? He, like, actually enjoys helping people,” Virgil glanced down, scuffing the carpet with the side of his foot. “He’s good at it, too.”

“Yeahhhh,” Remus locked his teeth together, inhaled through them, “About that.”

“What, aren’t you two all close now?” Virgil frowned, “I fuckin’ saw you guys at the meeting yesterday, you were so on top of each other, I feel like I forgot that you were two separate sides,” to anybody who didn’t know him, the way he talked about it would sound harsh. Remus, however, knew exactly how soft Virgil really was- the fucking poser- and that that shit? That was pure encouragement, raw as a bloody, bloody steak. 

Which, of course, only made Remus wince again.

He flopped sideways onto the floor, groaning. “Yeah, we’re close. That’s- I think that might be the problem?” That sounded right, almost, but just wrong enough to feel icky and annoying. “Ugh, I don’t know. So I just ran!”

There was a beat.

“Wait a second,” Virgil’s voice was tight- oh that bitch, he was laughing! “You’re hiding from Patton?”

Remus huffed. Okay, so maybe it was a little funny, he could appreciate that- but! He was still upset about it!!

“I mean, what has he done to scare you off?” Virgil pressed, “Too many compliments? Did he hug you too hard? I know the dude can be a lot sometimes, but-”

“Okay, ok-ay,” Remus couldn’t help it, he managed a laugh at it, too. “It’s ridiculous! It’s fucking ridiculous and he’s not even the problem!”

“Then what is the problem?” Virgil was snickering, “And don’t say that it’s you, dude. At least one of us around here has to not hate himself to hell and back, and you’ve defended that title for too long to lose it,” he cleared his throat right after he said it, sitting up straighter and trying to look like he hadn’t just been laughing like a huge dork. “Not that I’m, like, worried about you or anything.”

“Aw, you so are,” Remus stared up at the ceiling, grinning despite the ache in his chest. “But no, it’s not that. He thinks I’m awesome and he’s right, so don’t worry.”

Virgil leaned over him, staring upside-down at Remus. He squinted.

“Hey, this a serious problem?”

“I guess so. You can joke about it, though.”

“Cool. Um,” Virgil pulled away. Remus sat up, watching the trait cross one leg over the other, flip them, then tap his knee one-two-three-etc. times. He chewed on his lip. The whole nine yards of a classic Focused-Virgil Face. “Okay. You can tell me about it, seriously. I’ll try to help, or whatever.”

Remus blinked at him.

“Don’t- Jesus- don’t make a big deal out of it, dude-”

“Oh, I am.”

“I don’t even have a choice, okay, you’re the one who-”

“You’re so sweet, Virgey!”

“Remus, I swear to God, repeat that to anyone and I…” 

Virgil trailed off. Remus pouted at him, dramatically, his eyes practically glowing with mischief. “C’mon, aren’t you going to threaten me?”

“I was, and then I remembered that you’re like, actually into that kinda stuff, so. No. Nope, I’m good.”

“Fine,” he shrugged, “Looks like you’re resigned to just hearing about my feelings, instead!”

Virgil rolled his eyes again- of course he did- but there was no hiding the way he went quiet, patient, you could even call it attentive.

It was an offering, one that Remus didn’t hesitate to take. 

Patton left Janus’ room in a good mood.

He was in a considerably less good mood when, as soon as he’d left, Remus saw him and scrambled away like Patton was about to attack him where he stood- wide-eyed with fear and everything.

Patton swayed in the hallway for seconds after, uncertain about a lot of things suddenly. 

The room Remus had run into had definitely been Virgil’s, not his own, and for a moment Patton entertained the idea of just going up to knock. He dropped that thought quick, realizing that if he really wasn’t wanted, then he definitely didn’t want to confirm that he wasn’t wanted.

He might have gone back to Janus- Janus was smart, Janus knew how to explain things and solve problems and comfort people- but that was scrapped, too. He’d taken up plenty of the snake’s time already, firstly, and secondly… No, yeah, Patton already knew just who he needed to see for something like this. 

Logan set aside his laptop as soon as Patton walked into the common room, a surprisingly perceptive gesture for someone who claimed to be bad with feelings. Or maybe Patton had just gotten rusty at hiding them.

“Hi,” he greeted, wobbly.

“Hello,” Logan said, “You look upset.”

Patton stared at the wall just above his friend’s head, and nodded.

“Can I help?”

He paused. It was a bad habit- one of many!- but feeling unwanted by one side made him wonder if, maybe, he was unwanted by everyone. The thought formed a lump in his throat and had guilt pooling in his gut, but this was Logan. His best friend, the person he had gone to because he always knew just where he stood with him. If Logan didn’t want to help- no, because he always wanted to- if he couldn’t handle helping, then he would tell Patton that. He always did.

“I think Remus is upset with me,” Patton blurted it out quickly, just so he didn’t have to hear them. Logan vanished his laptop at once, gesturing to the spot beside him on the sofa. Patton sat with him, smiling feebly.

“Has he said anything of the sort?”

“No,” Patton picked at the sleeve of his sweater, “He didn’t really have to. He kind of… ran away from me?”

Logan’s eyes widened behind his frames, almost imperceptibly. “I see.”

“I don’t even know what I did,” Patton flushed with the admission, because of just how true it was. He had no idea what he did, and still he felt blame settling over him like a well worn blanket, and all that he could do was hope it wasn’t as bad as the last time. “I feel like I should know this stuff by now, shouldn’t I?”

There was a pause, as Logan processed the words carefully, seemed to turn them over in his head. 

“Be careful not to jump to conclusions, Patton. He typically freely expresses how he is feeling at any given time, so even if his actions seem to say otherwise, it’s entirely possible that he’s not upset with you,” Logan smiled reassuringly. “I find that most of his actions are meaningless. He’s a very weird creature.”

Patton managed to laugh at that. Logan leaned their shoulders together, a little pride flashing in his eyes, as he continued. “He did seem to be ‘out of it’, in a manner of speaking, when we spoke earlier today. It would make sense if that had worsened over the past few hours, and now he’s just particularly flighty. All in all, I wouldn’t read too much into it, if I were you.”

Patton nodded, resolutely not mentioning that they’d spent the night together, however relevant that was. He knew it would sound paranoid to imply that their intimacy had backfired, or come too quick- because Patton was paranoid, and certainly a little neurotic, and the less he voiced it the better. 

Instead, he followed the advice he didn’t believe, and let himself rest against his friend. Logan had laced their fingers together; it wasn’t as comforting as it usually was. 

Logan was only so touchy when it was for the sake of others, and almost always that ‘other’ was Patton. A fact that made the needy trait feel amazingly special most of the time, but on nights like that… More than anything, he felt greedy.

“I’ll ask him about it,” Patton promised, because he knew that was what Logan would suggest (even if the idea made him more than a little dreadfilled). “Maybe I overwhelmed him. He’s been cuddly, so I thought…” Patton shook his head, bile hitting the back of his throat as the realization collapsed upon him. “That’s probably it. I must have took it too far.”

Logan didn’t pry, but Patton could feel his concern mount just as well as he could see the frown on his face.

“Talking to him will be the best course of action,” he said plainly. “For the time being, though,” he released Patton’s hand, wrapping his arm loosely around Patton’s waist and leaving it there. “It might be beneficial for you to receive more reassurance. Is this alright?”

“Yes,” Patton ducked his head, knowing full well how obviously relieved he sounded, “Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me, I’m happy to help,” Logan told him, and he had no doubt that it was true. Still, it always surprised him anyway- and that at least was a good thing about a friend who was so reserved. The pleasant surprises.

Patton sat up enough to rest his head on top of Logan’s, a position that was almost but not quite cuddling.

“I sincerely hope,” Logan muttered, “That everything will be alright for you.”

Whether he was speaking only about the Remus situation or not was unclear.

“Me too.”

“If it’s any consolation, it’s very difficult to stay upset with you, if he truly is so. In my experience, at least.”

Patton sighed. “Thanks, buddy.”

“Of course. Your happiness is-... you, are very important to me, and I can only hope that you’ve made a friend that values you as much as I do.”

Patton knew what he meant by it. Both he and Logan were acutely aware of how different they were, and how little they matched with each other. Patton couldn’t understand him- not wanting to be showered in love, enjoying silence and a little bit of alone time, needing space. He knew that Logan didn’t get him, either- didn’t know why he cried all the time, or why nothing ever seemed to fix him for good, or why he said so many things that went without saying. They still struggled with each other’s languages, sometimes, but they’d gotten miles and miles better with it over the years. Sometimes Patton thought that the only way they’d become so close was sheer willpower, pushing past each misunderstanding and argument just because they liked the challenge of it. Determination was always a common thread between them, whatever differences they had.

They had to have boundaries, then. Logan might not hold Patton on his worst days, but he’d give him notes and gifts and bring him water, food, things that he neglected for himself. Patton didn’t have any of the right words to talk Logan down when things got bad, but he was always there to cheer him back up when he was ready again. Neither of them understood each other, and maybe they never would, but they cared. Even if they couldn’t be what the other needed, they cared, and that was all they had to do. 

So even if Logan couldn’t fix things, Patton thought, he still did a hell of a good job patching them up. 

“Hey. Hey!”

Patton turned around with a jolt, his fingers going tight in the blanket about his shoulders. How long he’d been downstairs, he didn’t know- but he knew that he was really, very tired, and now was left blinking and confused at the person accosting him with so much energy. 

“Um, hi,” Patton tried.

Remus had run up to him at once, and was just as suddenly seizing both of his hands. Patton might have taken a moment to appreciate the touch, but with just one sentence that positivity crumbled:

“I need to talk to you.”

Patton shoved a plastic smile onto his face. He always felt a little icky to be faking it, but with Remus, the shame was especially thick. Still, it was only instinct. 

“Okay.”

Patton opened the door; the Duke marched in without waiting for invitation, and he followed. 

Dread dripped down his spine like melting ice cubes. This is fine, Patton told himself firmly, once they were both sitting feet apart on the bed. He refused to think too hard about what the distance meant- if it meant anything at all, or if he was only being ridiculous.

“Sorry about today,” Remus began, “Really. I was freaking out for the stupidest fucking reason. You’ll laugh when I tell you!”

Patton didn’t laugh, but he smiled a little more wholly. If Remus was upset with him, the apology must’ve meant at least some of that had faded away. Probably.

“It’s okay, Mess,” the nickname rolled off his tongue easily. Remus grinned at him, but it was somehow more manic than usual.

“I probably got you all worried over nothing, bolting on you before you could wake up- and then again earlier, right?”

There was a pause, as Patton tried to decide if the question was rhetoric or not. When the silence stretched on uncomfortably, he found himself nodding. 

Remus huffed out a breath, rocking back and staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I- I’m still working at the whole self-improvement thing, ya know? That probably doesn’t make it better, but- I’ve never really had a reason to try and be, uh, considerate. Janus never really cared if I was a bitch, and nobody else ever mattered, and that- yeah, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk about.” 

His voice was raspy, low and thick in a way that it almost never was. Patton tipped his head to the side, confused. Remus looked- and sounded- awkward, an expression that was not at home on his face. 

“Wait, um- so it wasn’t anything I did? You’re not upset with me?”

Remus looked at him like he was crazy (ironic, that).

“Upset with you?” He crowed, “Why the fuck would I be upset with you?”

Patton flushed; he laughed embarrassedly, or maybe in relief; he toyed with the sleeves of his sweater.

“I didn’t really- I don’t know, but I was worried that I’d, um, overstepped some boundaries last night, and maybe made you uncomfortable.”

He was only kind of looking at his friend, from out the corners of his eyes. It was still easy to see the way Remus went from confused to amused, and then burst into cackles.

“You- You- Me? Morey, please, it takes a lot to make me uncomfortable- if that’s even possible, actually- and you sure as shit haven’t figured out how to pull it off yet. Sugar, I asked to stay with you!”

The relief flooded Patton all in a rush, and he felt himself finally relax. With Remus laughing and joking and being his usual (sweet, impressively sweet, surprisingly so) self again, it all started seeming a little silly. Remus must’ve seen him coming untense, folding down the same way accordion-pressed paper sprawled out when it was released from a bored student’s hand, because his gaze went warm, like something had finally clicked into place in his head. A problem solved, and what a wonderful solution it had come to- that’s what the look said. 

Patton met the smile just as brightly when the Duke shifted over some of the distance between them, taking up both of Morality’s hands in his own yet again. 

“Well, since it wasn’t something I did,” Patton said, “Then what was the actual problem?”

Remus didn’t look too upset at the question, but he was glancing down, up, sideways- his pupils flitted around the room without really touching on anything for too long; it wasn’t often that he was so obviously thinking something through. His fingers flexed, face a little pink, and he hesitated before answering:

“Okay, it’s like I said, right? I don’t- I’ve never needed to try to be anything for anybody before. I mean that I never wanted to do things in a conform-y way, obviously, but, I never wanted to be considerate, either,” he smirked down at their tangled hands, shrugging. “I don’t think I’m doing too bad for a first try, to be honest- but that’s not the point, the point is- this is… new.”

Patton opened his mouth, reassurances rushing to the tip of his tongue before he was hastily shushed.

“No, look, there’s a difference between being a pushover and just being fucking nice to the people you care about. That’s the problem- or I thought it was a problem, in my dipshit lizard-panic brain this morning- right? I’ve never wanted to do anything for people, because I didn’t need them anyway. I figured I didn’t, I guess, cuz I could survive without ‘em- it wasn’t like I had a choice, but I got on fine. Not to be too… I don’t know, pathetic? Who cares, but- I never knew anything different.”

Patton’s eyes went wide and watery, like the blue of his irises were soaking into everything else and leaking, leaking, leaking. He was squeezing Remus’ hands a little too tight, certainly, and he just wanted to hug him so bad- but despite his words, Remus didn’t even seem to need it. He looked back at Patton, huffed a sigh, looking just plain amused.

“So this hit me when I was talking to Virgil, about ten minutes ago,” he started, “That I woke up today, with you, and I had this thought like… Fuck, I don’t ever wanna move again. I could starve and then start to decompose and probably rot into bloody mush, but I’d probably still be perfectly happy- which is weird, because starvation is easily one of the boringest ways to die, I could go out so much cooler- but, it was more the fact that I was with you, and uh. So, so I thought that- which is so dumb and sappy- and it surprised me so bad that I just ran. And after I had, I was so freaked out, I didn’t even remember why for!”

He took a deep breath, something that he hadn’t done for that entire ramble. Patton got the sense he still wasn’t finished though, and waited patiently.

“I never needed anybody caring about me for me to be okay- the screaming and the fleeing and all that was fine, it was still a reaction. But I think I just realized that I couldn’t go back to that, now.

“Because of you. I knew I liked you, but it never clicked that things would probably suck without you by this point. More than that, I guess- it hit me that just because I can take care of myself, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t fucking blow. That I don’t- I don’t want to be so independent again, okay? That I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

And he couldn’t help it at all; Patton did hug him, then. He pulled him against his chest as soon as he noticed the words going choppy, choked, and halting. He let go of Remus’ hands, in favor of tangling his fingers in the Duke’s hair and carding through it.

Remus met the embrace with just as much fervor, curling up into the bigger trait. Yet somehow, he wasn’t crying yet.

“Hey, hey, I’m alright,” he murmured, “I mean, don’t let go, obviously- but I’m okay. I had all day to panic! Which I definitely did, by the way, because my whole worldview got screwed over. Finally know how you feel, I guess,” He was joking, Patton could hear his smile. He laughed. “But I got it out of my system, and ya know what I realized after that?”

Patton hummed attentively, letting Remus pull back just enough to see his face.

“I said, ‘okay, I’m processing that, and it doesn’t matter.’ It doesn’t matter because I only realized that maybe I need people once I already had them, and- no offense- but you don’t really seem like the abandoning type. The opposite, that’s what you are.”

Patton beamed. 

“Of course not,” he swore, pressing the words out as though intensity alone could make them more true, more pure. “Never, not ever.”

“Good,” Remus said, “Cuz I’m hanging on to ya, Pat. As long as I can.”

Chapter Eight

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @donnieluvsthings @intruxiety @thefivecalls @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @gayformlessblob 

[friendlylocalwhumper]

the bookshop (lux and emory meet) | flirting over text | this drabble | emory sees scars, lux panic attack | the words

It was going to be a good time. Coffee, maybe some snacks like croissants or muffins, whatever was fresh and warm in the display case. They were going to chat. Get to know each other. There would be soft indie songs playing on speakers out of sight, and they could’ve watched people walking past the coffee shop’s big windows, could’ve guessed what those people were thinking and saying.

They were supposed to meet up at two o’clock. Emory got there five minutes late, so he wouldn’t seem like he was too excited about the date. So he wouldn’t be on display, so it wouldn’t be obvious that he’s catching feelings for this cute guy with curls and a smile that’s hard-won.

And he waited. Waited, alone in that coffee shop, finishing off two drinks at the slowest pace possible until he felt nauseous with embarrassment.

Lux didn’t come. Emory got stood up.

It’s fine, Emory thinks, as he packs up his stuff and slides it into his bag as calmly as he can. No outward frustration. He didn’t care, anyway. He unlocks his phone with one hand, clicks on his most recently opened text notification, and blocks Lux’s number. Easy disconnect, painless. Two hours wasted sitting in a coffee shop isn’t all that bad. If he’s not worth Lux’s time, or even a text giving him a heads up about the date being called off, then he doesn’t care.

~

It’s evening when there’s a knock on the door. It’s dark out. No one should be knocking, no delivery man or friend. Probably somebody selling something.

He didn’t get the socialization he thought he would today, though, so Emory sighs and gets up off the couch. May as well chat with someone trying to sell him an internet service with cheaper rates or something. They might even be cute enough to flirt with.

Emory goes to the door. Turns the handle, lets it swing open.

There Lux stands, arms flying down to his sides from where they were crossed, looking guilty. Emory doesn’t care.

“I tried to call,” Lux starts, shifting his weight nervously. “I… can I come in, please?”

A twinge of frustration pulls a sigh out of Emory. “Why? It’s fine, you couldn’t make it. I waited. You didn’t text. It’s not a big deal, I didn’t care anyway.”

Lux blinks, shaking some of his curls out of his face. From the light in the hallway shining out, Emory can make out blotchy purple bruising around his eye. Confusion, worry, curiosity flicker across his mind, softening the defensive apathy.

And there’s doubt in Lux’s eyes, anxiety. His arms move slightly to hug himself. Emory starts to wonder why Lux wanted to come inside - if it was more about getting away from something, rather than getting all up in Emory’s space so soon after embarrassing him. “R-, really? You didn’t…? Oh, I, I guess I thought… sorry, I, I thought you were looking forward to it, like, like I was.”

Now something like guilt eats at Emory. Lux is so easily misguided. It doesn’t feel good, convincing him that being left behind didn’t hurt.

“I’m lying,” Emory blurts, and deeper confusion settles over Lux. Emory feels like a bad guy. “I’m just. It sucked, okay? I was excited, and you never came. I was trying to act like I didn’t feel it. But you - you looked like you believed me. You don’t… you’re not hard to confuse, are you?”

Those shoulders scrunch up under sloppy curls. There’s so much emotion in Lux’s eyes, so much shown in his expressions, all the time. No wonder he’s easy to twist around if he’s so open about how he feels. “I, I, I’m not the smartest. Get confused. I, I can explain why I didn’t show up, if you want? But I get it, if you don’t wanna hear excuses. I just - need to come inside, or go.”

Emory tips his head in confusion. “Uh, sure. Come in.” Lux has such a small, unimposing presence that it doesn’t feel weird to let him in, even if they’ve only seen each other twice so far. “Hey, I wasn’t trying to say you’re stupid.”

Timid steps and movements that keep him out of arm’s reach bring Lux inside, head ducked down. He hovers a few feet away, waiting to be shown where he should go. “‘s okay, just am. If, if you wanna confuse me, ‘s not hard to do. I don’t - I won’t lie.”

It is a bit reassuring, to know that Lux doesn’t lie. That doing it would just end up with him confusing himself. It’s an offering, a truth, that makes Emory feel more prepared to listen to him even after being stood up.

He leads Lux inside with a gesture that gets some kind of weird reaction out of the guy. All Emory does is lift his arm to indicate the living room, then start to lead the way - but Lux jerks slightly, steps back, lets more distance fall between them. Everything he does is weird, like he’s been living in a whole different world all his life. Like he expects something other than a calm, if slightly defensive, interaction here.

They sit, Emory on the couch and Lux on the armchair. There’s room on the couch, but he supposes Lux doesn’t really have the body language of a guy who wants to be next to someone he’s hurt, right now.

“So. You were gonna tell me why you didn’t show?”

Curls bounce as Lux nods. He’s avoiding eye contact, twisting his fingers in his hoodie pocket. There’s dirt scraped across his sleeves and pants, Emory notices.

Lux is just a little too real.

“I got jumped,” Answers Lux, with all the quiet shame of someone who got attacked in broad daylight, and none of the showmanship of someone making up a story to escape blame. “...Wasn’t hurt too bad. Just… got, uh, got scared. Nervous. Forgot about the date, ‘cause, ‘cause I - well I had an alarm on my phone for it, but my phone got smashed. Got stomped on. And I couldn’t text you, and then I - I was running, and I got lost, and all stressed out.” His hands come out of his hoodie pocket to show his phone, the screen a thick mess of spiderwebbed cracks, chunks of the glass missing. He clicks the power button to show that the screen lights up, glitches, and don’t respond to touch at all. As he looks up to see if Emory is accepting the proof, Emory catches a better glimpse of that black eye.

The worst part of all this is that Lux is still nervous. He’s not resigned, not laughing it off, not moving past it. He looks and sounds like the last blow of the beating he caught slammed into him no more than sixty seconds ago.

By now, Emory doesn’t blame him at all. Two hours sitting frustrated and embarrassed in a coffee shop isn’t nearly as bad as Lux getting jumped and scared so bad that he ran, phone smashed, excitement over a date erased by fear for his life.

“I’m sorry that happened. I was… not gonna lie, was pretty mad about getting stood up. But not anymore. You didn’t mean to. Are you okay?”

Lux lowers his phone, shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah. Just, feel bad that I ruined it. The date. I know you didn’t care, but -”

“I did care, remember?”

Lux flinches slightly at the interruption. That’s what that movement is, a flinch. Emory frowns as he watches Lux seem to remember. He doesn’t think he’s ever going to lie to Lux again, not if he can help it - seeing him get confused makes Emory feel so wrong inside.

“Oh - oh yeah. Sorry. Do you - can you forgive me?”

Confusion draws Emory’s brows together. “There’s nothing to forgive. It’s fine, Lux, you got jumped. Your phone got wrecked, you couldn’t call me. You came here to say sorry even though you thought I’d be mad at you. You literally did everything right.”

The tense line of Lux’s shoulders loosens. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, what else could you’ve done? Win the fight and run to the coffee shop to get there on time? I’m sure you did your best. Getting out of there in one piece was more important than making it to, like, a second date.”

“We-ell - I could’ve, could’ve tried harder, it’s just they grabbed me and I couldn’t really get free at first.”

“They?”

Lux looks up, blinks. “Yeah. They.”

“More than one guy?”

“Three. I think. There were two, and then I got - my face was shoved down,” Lux explains, shoving his palm toward the floor in gesture, “And then I think there was a third one. Third voice.”

“Woah, wait - three guys? You got jumped by three guys? That’s - that’s different than, like, one who hits you and takes your wallet and lets you go.”

Lux shakes his head. “Yeah, no, wasn’t like that. They just - just hit me. Didn’t ask for a wallet, I didn’t even have money on me. They just, you know. Hit me until I was really scared. And then let me run away, and, and laughed.”

Emory’s mental image of what happened switches from Lux being pinned lightly to an alley wall by a guy with a hand in his pocket pretending to have a gun, to a whole group of guys beating Lux into the ground until he did something like begged or made small sounds. Maybe, fuck, maybe he even cried. Emory definitely would have, if that happened to him.

“And I, the worst part was I, I really wanted to see you.” Those shoulders sag with disappointment. “The coffee shop, it sounded really nice. When I remembered, after I calmed down, it was - I was really upset.”

A new emotion, something like dangerous hope - the opposite of not caring - strikes in Emory’s chest. “Really?”

Lux nods again. “I, mmmh - well, you probably talk to guys a lot. Go on dates and stuff. But I - I never do. I haven’t… I don’t date. So this was really new, and special, and I - you’re nice and you look, look like you do, and it felt like I ruined it all and I’ll never get to try again, with anybody. Nobody would - no one would like me, wouldn’t get asked out again. Won’t. So, I-I’m sorry I messed it up.”

Elbows propped up on his knees, Emory leans forward, his expression one of incredulity. As if someone as handsome, as friendly as Lux doesn’t get asked out all the time. As if getting attacked, getting beaten for no good reason is enough for Emory to throw him out and start over with some other cute guy.

“You didn’t mess anything up. We’re still dating, Lux.”

That gets a sharp reaction out of him. Wide blue eyes, sitting up straight, lips parted slightly in confusion. His hands stop fidgeting in his hoodie pocket. “We - we are?”

“Of course we are. I still like you. Really, how can you think no one would ever ask you out again? Have you seen yourself? I’m lucky I got to you when I did.”

Utter shock strikes, a blush spreading pink across Lux’s face like a blooming dawn horizon. “I - I, don’t know what - I, ‘m not - just, I-I, I’m glad you, you still wanna date me. ‘m glad you wanted to at all.”

Emory smiles, eyes crinkling. Lux is so soft with his words, so easy to flatter. This feels so much better than paying comments to guys he wants to hook up with: Lux doesn’t already know he’s gorgeous, hardly believes it when he’s told. It’s like he’s never dated before, like he forgets about the flirting and just focuses on being honest, being careful, showing trust and hoping to earn it in return. Lux is going about this like he’s seeking friendship, and the compliments, the thrill of being wanted, come as a surprise every time they pop up.

Lux is changing the game that Emory’s been playing for years, and it makes his heart race. Emory wants what Lux is unintentionally stumbling toward with his earnest, humble gestures. Something like friendship, but more.

“Sleep over,” He asks, smiling again. “You can sleep on the couch, here. I won’t make any moves, hand on the Bible. That way we can try for that coffee date again tomorrow, and we can go together. No muggers’ll get you that way.”

That blush deepens, those eyes wide again. He’s so sweet. “I - I guess, I can - I don’t have clothes to change into. And, I don’t - what if you change your mind? What if, what if I’m annoying? You don’t know if I am. You don’t - a whole night, that’s, isn’t that big? I don’t know if I can f-fall asleep in a place if, if I don’t know the, the person that well…” He falls silent, clearly feeling awkward, wringing his hands.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Offers Emory, leaning back to show he’s relaxed. “I’d feel better if you stayed here, though, because you got hurt today, and I don’t see anybody else inviting you over ‘cause they’re worried.”

Lux watches Emory. It seems like he’s trying to decipher what all that means. Could it be misinterpreted, Emory wonders? He can’t imagine how. “I’d like it if you stayed,” He adds, hoping it’ll soften the offer even further. “Because… I care. I care if you like me, I care if you make it to our date tomorrow. I don’t wanna see more bruises on that handsome face.”

If that blush gets any deeper, Lux will go red. He lets out a shaky breath and gives an uncertain smile. “O-okay. I’ll stay.”

[yv-sketches]

I've the how to your dragon series and the wizards of once books. Any recommendations for books to read that are similar?

Thank you so much for this question!! 😊

I’ll do my best to answer, however, English is not my native language, so I am not super familiar with the Great Middle Grade series that undoubtably exist. I also read too many non fiction books when I was younger

Here are a few books/book series I found enjoyable in a similar way. (The list is not super long and none of them feature dragons, sorry.)

Most of these are more like twoo, because they’re really good but can’t touch Cressida’s masterpiece. I cannot think of ANY book series that can compare to httyd’s philosophical three way war and grand finale.

(Click read more for a list of half baked book recommendations by me XD)

1 ~ The Care and Feeding of a Pet Black Hole - Michelle Cuevas

This is a stand alone that could easily be “How to take care for a pet black hole” written by Hiccup. It’s a short book, but it has the exact same dry and clever humour and becomes truly meaningful further into the story. The ending is bittersweet too.

This is probably the book I think has the most similar atmosphere to httyd. If you could collapse the emotions from httyd into 200 pages, this would be the closest matching result.

2 ~ Percy Jackson - Or literally anything by Rick Riordan

Rick Riordan is iconic and the only one who could win a ‘chapter title battle’ from Cressida. Examples: “My sword has a better social life than I do” or “A God buys us cheeseburgers” I am very ashamed to admit I have only read the first Percy Jackson book (I really should read the rest, you may sue me for not reading this iconic series) but I really liked it and from what I heard about the rest of the series it only gets better.

At least one crazy adventure each book, plenty of swordfights and a snappy protagonist to comment on everything. I’m not sure how to describe it accurately, but these books are written with the same hilarious tone as Cressida’s. You can read them out loud and they’d be funny I guess?

Also: Main characters with ADHD and dyslexia (looking at you Wish and Xar), characters from different countries, cultures and LGBT characters who have storylines outside of that characteristic. If you liked vikings, Magnus Chase is his triology about demigod children of Norse gods (though long series probably won’t bother you as httyd book fan).

3 ~ Cogheart - Peter Bunzl

These books are fun steampunk adventures. The setting is vaguely historical, but with victorians instead of vikings, pesky adults who don’t listen to children very well and an unusual pet companion. There’s also a secondary storyline about how beings with human intelligence are treated as lesser, and it’s treated important enough without overshadowing the main plot.

I’ve read the first two and so far it’s a series where you can read each book separate (though the first few httyd books could also be read as separates). There are two more and perhaps the secondary citizen issue will end up being the overarching plot?

4 ~ How to Become King - Jan Terlouw

The clue is in the title. The main character wants to become king, but has to complete 7 impossible tasks first. It does not get more straightforward than that.

The book does not have Cressida’s ridiculous humour, but the main character is Pure Good like Hiccup and each impossible quest actually has a lot of depth to it. A big part of the story emphasizes how humility and kindness are the things that make a good king. It’s a pretty old book and probably the most unknown one on this list.

5 ~ The Slightly Alarming Tale of the Whispering Wars - Jaclyn Moriarty

(I own a signed copy of this and the author was so nice) It is the second book set in this world, but with new characters. She said it can be read on its own, but perhaps it could be a bit confusing if you haven’t read the first. I hadn’t read the first and I was confused.

The absolute highlight of this book was the narration. There are two narrators who take turn narrating, and while doing so they comment on each other. They argue with each other and quip about how they do a better job narrating. It makes you feel like you’re part of the story too, similarly how Hiccup addresses the reader and comments on his younger self.

6 ~ Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer

Did anybody say fiendishly clever plan? When it comes to cheating death and trickery, Artemis Fowl is Hiccup and Xar’s long lost sibling. Except.... he is not as nice. To quote Camicazi: “You see, [I] have no morals at all. It's very useful...”

Where Hiccup was a Pure Cinnamon Roll and Xar an emotional hotheaded disaster, Artemis is a straight up bastard who cares for only four (4) people in total.

It’s very reminiscent of the earlier httyd books. Silly schemes, potty humour and characters that walk a fine line between likeable and annoying. I have not read the entire series yet, but the characters slowly mature with each book.

7 ~ Ella Enchanted - Gail Carson Levine

This is more of a twisted fairytale like twoo and not a fantasy epic like httyd. It’s the story of a girl on an impossible quest in a fantasy world. There are a lot of fairytale tropes, but I really liked how the extremely complex kingdom fit into one book.

It’s the only book on this list where different languages are a major plot point, and there is an inequality problem with some creatures, similar to the wild dragons in httyd. The ending can’t compare to the satisfying yet bittersweet solution of book 12. It’s a fairytale happily ever after and certainly easier on the heart than httyd.

? ~ Anything by Roald Dahl

Everyone knows Roald Dahl, which is why this is probably an useless recommendation. His books are funny, crazy and sometimes a bit grim, but always great. What else can I say?

? ~ The gentleman’s guide to vice and virtue - Mackenzi Lee

Ok, this one is by no means a middle grade book. More like 15+. (There is violence and romance is a major plotline. Both the violence and romance are 15+, and while I did not find it too bad, it might not be for everyone)

However, it has almost all of the ingredients of a Cressida book. I really felt like I should include it because it belongs somewhere high on this list! On the surface it’s a whacky adventure with a sassy protagonist in a somewhat historical fantasy setting. Below that surface, it deals with major issues in an absolutely beautiful way.

The quotes are artistic, and this is the ONLY ya book I’ve ever read with messages that hit as hard and are written as subtly as the ones in the httyd books. (I have read books more beautiful, and books with greater messages than this one, but the serious parts were woven into the story in such a refined way.... I’ve only read that in Cressida’s books.)

Mind you, the protagonist is more of a Disaster Boy ™ than Xar and I wanted to slap him sometimes. Like Xar, he learns and gets better.

~

A few other books I should mention

Coraline by Neil Gaiman. The story is not similar to httyd and twoo at. all. which is why it’s not on the list. However, this is the ultimate book about not-so-great parents. Hiccup and the entire twoo gang can relate. Just a heads up: this is a somewhat scary story. Cressida doesn’t shy away from suspense and terrifying details, but in Coraline, the suspense is one of the main aspects.

A series of unfortunate events from Lemony Snicket. I haven’t read this, but I still want to. From what I’ve heard it’s a sarcastic adventure series that’s a lot more serious than it looks.

I have never read this series either, I do not even know what it’s about, but I’ve heard people from the httyd books fandom talk about it: Keeper of the lost cities by Shannon Messenger.

~

I hope this list was the kind of answer you were hoping for!

If you are looking for better recommendations, there are a lot of httyd book fans who can give you some, like @books-are-like-dragons @thefellowshipofthedragonmark @httydbooks-doodler .

[sincerelyreidburke]

Questionnaire for the rat bf, if u can?

Real Touille stan hours. Thank you. Ace rights. Let’s go under the cut and do the whole damn thing!!

Here’s the questionnaire of pride asks for the crickets! Send me anything!

I’m answering this entire thing “as” Touille, so be aware of that.

1. what is your sexuality?

I’m asexual!

2. what do you identify as?

I use the term aro-ace, for the most part. Or just ace.

3. how long have you been aware of your sexuality/identity?

Okay, well, I’ve known as long as I can remember that I’m not into romance or dating. I never understood, growing up, why everyone was always asking me about girls or why there was so much romance in the media. But if you mean knowing the word for my sexuality... then not that long, actually. It was during fall of freshman year, and the upperclassmen started talking about Winter Screw, which was coming up. I kind of freaked out when I realized it was a dating thing, because I didn’t want my roommate Francis (or anyone) to pick a date for me. So I had a little panic moment, and then Bully asked me if I was asexual. I had no idea it was a thing, but it was the best epiphany. I’ve felt so much more comfortable in my own skin since I learned there were other people like me.

4. do you have any preferences?

For, like... dating? Not applicable, I guess.

5. share a positive memory about coming out!

Because I realized I was ace in front of all of SMH at team breakfast, I didn’t really have to come out to any of them. And I haven’t really come out to that many other people, because I’m not sure my parents or my mémé would think it’s a real thing, but I did have a good experience coming out to Quinn! It was, like, two weeks after I met him, and they were doing this double-date thing with him and Nando plus Ben and Gina, who he was dating at the time, and, well, anyways, Quinn thought they were excluding me? And he said, oh, Remy, do you want to come? Are you seeing anyone? And I said, oh, no, I’m asexual, actually. And it was really nice, because Quinn just smiled and said oh, that’s lovely! I love your pride flag! and we moved on. It was really validating. Also it was the first time I really came out to anybody at all.

6. how do you feel about pride month?

Ben and Nando introduced me to the concept of pride month a few months before pride month actually happened for the first time since I met them. I like pride month because I send bad memes to my friends, and also because it’s fun on social media, but... in my regular life, I don’t really get to do that much for pride. Except the summer between sophomore and junior year, Ben came up to Quebec and we went to pride. Which was really fun, actually. And also, at the end of freshman year, Quinn sewed pride patches for a bunch of people, and he gave me a little circle that’s a hybrid of the ace flag and the aro flag, so I pin it to the hat I wear when I work at my papa’s crêperie in June.

7. do you participate in pride related events? any other events?

On the night of Winter Screw freshman year, Bully brought me to this party at his friend’s apartment, and introduced me to a bunch of other ace people. Apparently, they have this top-secret ace club??? It’s not an official campus club or anything, but they just... host parties sometimes, especially on nights where dating stuff is happening on campus, like Screw and also Valentine’s Day. I don’t know if that really counts as a pride event, but it makes me happy. It’s all kinds of people, from all over the Samwell community, and it’s really cool.

8. how do you feel about lgbtqa roles in media?

I wish there were more ace ones.

9. do you feel pride in who you are?

Honestly, yeah, I do! I’ve never really been ashamed of my identity, even before I knew there was a word for it and a community of people like me. The only time I’ve been discouraged about it is thinking about how the world is so romance-oriented, but that’s not really about myself; it’s kind of just frustration with the way society is.

10. who has been your supportive idols in your self discovery?

Bully! He was the first person to say the word ‘asexual’ to me, and he and I have been really good friends the whole time we’ve been on the team together. He teaches me about ace stuff and we usually sit together on the bus. I don’t think I would even know about asexuality at all if it weren’t for him. Okay, well, maybe Ben would have taught me eventually. But still. I’m really grateful for Bully.

11. tell us about your first crush?

Hahaha, not applicable. But I can tell you about my first real squish, if you want? Bully taught me what a squish is. It’s like a friend crush, but a little different than just wanting to be friends with a person. It was Ben for me.

12. what sort of advice to have you lgbtqa teens?

Well, for ace teens, you aren’t broken and you’re whole on your own. Never compromise the way you feel for other people’s sake.

13. have you come out to friends and family?

I’m ‘out’ to all my closest friends, but not to my family. Like I said, I’m not so sure my parents would think asexuality is even a real thing. They just think I’m taking a long time to find somebody.

14. how do you feel about the term “coming out”?

(Mel talking...) Click here for Touille’s answer on this one!

15. do you believe there is a “closet” to come out of?

For me? Not exactly... not really. Aside from generating annoying comments, coming out as ace doesn’t endanger me directly in any way. I’m lucky, because I know that’s not the case for every ace person.

16. any tips on coming out?

Oh, man, I’m definitely not qualified to give coming out tips.

17. what’s your biggest pet peeve when it comes to lgbtqa characterization in media?

(Mel again!) Here’s Touille’s answer on this!

18. what’s your favorite parts of lgbtqa characterization in media?

When I actually see aro and ace characters. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a confirmed one, but I like projecting onto characters without a love interest. Jughead from the Archie comics? Obi-Wan Kenobi? Merida, the Scottish girl? Asexual icons, and thank you for asking.

19. what did your teachers say about the lgbtqa community in school?

My teachers said little to nothing. I went to a French Catholic high school, and I think they ignored it on purpose.

20. do you practice safe sex with the same sex?

Haha, not applicable.

21. what’s an absolute turn off for you in people?

Also not applicable, but in friendship terms, when people don’t shut up about themselves. I can’t stand huge egos. There were a lot of them in juniors.

22. what’s an absolute turn on for you in people?

Definitely not applicable.

23. how do you feel about lgbtqa clubs/apps/websites?

I like browsing AVEN and the LGBT+ parts of Reddit. And we have the unofficial ace club on campus. Bully calls it the ‘ace gang’.

24. how do you feel about the term “queer”?

My friends use it all the time, but I don’t really say it that much. I don’t have anything against it, it’s just not something that’s really part of my vocabulary. I don’t find it harmful.

25. how does your country view the lgbtqa community?

Canada has a long way to go on some social issues, but as far as I can tell, LGBT issues are pretty okay. We have a reputation for being more liberal than the US, which I guess is true in some ways, but things aren’t exactly perfect. But LGBT Canadians are a lot luckier than LGBT people in other parts of the world.

26. favorite lgbtqa actor/actress?

I’ve been trying to think of an example of an ace celebrity, but I’m coming up short.

27. any tips for heterosexual people on how to handle lgbtqa events/news?

Just listen, honestly. And stand up for people who are being picked on or shamed.

28. what’s the most annoying question you have ever gotten?

Definitely “when are you going to find someone?” I can’t stand that question.

29. how do you feel about receiving questions about your sexuality/identity?

As long as they’re not in the vein of, like, you know aces aren’t LGBT, right?, then I actually really enjoy getting questions about my identity. Because people in my general life don’t tend to care that much about hearing about ace experiences (except my friends, who I love), talking about it comes sparse. Thank you for asking me all these questions, by the way! I feel appreciated.

30. what is your romantic affiliation?

I’m aromantic. :)

[feynavaley]

Could you please write some FACE headcanons along the lines of those you’ve already written for Lux, Ned, Hong Kong, Macau, Taiwan? Thank you ❤️ I’m a new follower and I found you through other Hetalia headcanon sites. You’re a golden nugget ❤️

Thank you so much, you’re so kind!! 💕 Oh, and Canada, America, England, and France are my favourite characters so I have already written a lot of stuff, but I always love talking about them some more! 😊Here you can find my previous posts if you’re from desktop [Can] [Ame] [Eng] [Fra]; and here are instead the links that would work from the app: [Can] [Ame] [Eng] [Fra]. You could also look at my navigation page but I haven’t updated it in a while.

America

His work ethic is slacking off at first, and then doing everything in a rush later as he realizes that he had underestimated how much time he was going to need;

Somehow, he always manages to make it by the very last last minute of the deadline, though. (Even if with some missed sleep, but it isn’t a big problem as he doesn’t need much.)

No matter what, he never, ever misses a meal. If he really doesn’t have enough time, he ends up eating while he’s working.

Not bothered by any noise. He’s always able to tune out everything and concentrate when he needs to.

Bad smells bother him very little. He may complain, but he doesn’t mind as much as he seems to imply.

Naturally has a very loud voice. If he’s trying to be silent, he usually lasts only a few minutes before going to back to the original volume.

He’s always eager to offer his help to normal humans he meets.

He has such a beautiful, bright smile when he’s truly happy. It lights up his entire face and seems to ooze enthusiasm so much that other people are put in a better mood just by seeing it.

Physiologically unable of being tidy. His house is a mess, stuff and clothes thrown everywhere. Sometimes, he’s taken by a sudden urge to tidy up and does a massive clean up. The house is back to the original state after two days.

Loathes washing dishes. When he’s alone, he always eats straight out of the pan.

Lightning-fast at typing from a smartphone/tablet. A bit slower on a keyboard, but still faster than most.

He’s lucky to ridiculous levels. No matter the odds or how reckless he’s being, things generally end up working just fine for him.

Canada

He always starts his work with the best intentions, he plans out so he’s going to have breaks and not overwork himself;

Then, as he gets closer to the deadline, his anxiety flares up as he’s afraid he’s not doing enough and he ends up working 24/7, hardly eating or sleeping (he still takes time for the shower though), even if he wouldn’t have needed to do so.

He always ends up doing more than what he would have needed.

Unable to say ‘no’ to anybody, which means he’s always overworked.

His very high empathy makes him shoulder everybody’s problems. If somebody comes to him with a complaint or even a simple rant, Canada feels like he has to personally fix everything and beats himself up a lot if he doesn’t.

He ends up drinking an unholy amount of coffee when he has to work.

He likes technology and tends to be up-to-date with new stuff, but he doesn’t like social media. He knows how they work, but he doesn’t really use them.

He tends to keep his house quite cold as it doesn’t bother him. He always turns up the heating when somebody’s visiting, though.

He’s very easy to talk to as he comes across as supportive and trustworthy. Many times people end up revealing their issues to him.

Not only his natural voice volume is very low, he’s physically unable to truly yell. When he tries, he ends up in a coughing fit.

He’s a bit of an introvert, but actually, it’s more shyness than real introversion. While he likes having time for himself, his issue with interacting with people is that it gives him a lot of anxiety as he doesn’t know how to behave and is always afraid of making a bad impression. If it weren’t for that, he would love making new friends – and when somebody does approach him, he’s so eager it’s almost painful to watch.

He’s one of those people who hardly sweat at all (unless he’s overheating badly).

England

His work ethic is never taking a break until he physically collapses – especially if he has an important deadline.

He hates coffee and he would only drink tea. If he’s seen drinking coffee, it means he has truly reached his limit.

He loves the theatre. While he generally tries not to spend too much money, this is something he doesn’t hold back from.

He’s bad at adapting to technology, but he tries very hard. The result is close to a middle-aged mother – too loud on Facebook and who still doesn’t know how to right-click and keeps accidentally installing useless plug-ins on his browser.

He has found some forums he frequents along with mothers and even older ladies to exchange tips for embroidery and knitting that he truly likes, though.

Can forget his smartphone off for days since he really doesn’t use it much.

Abhors digital books. For him, a real book is made of paper – part of the reading experience is the smell, the texture… he gets very incensed when talking about it. (And he can barely tolerate paperback editions, too.)

Still uses an old typewriter for his poetry and stories. It puts him in the mood better than a computer does.

He prefers dim lighting to well-lit rooms.

When he truly wants to relax and take his mind off of problems, it’s either knitting or embroidery.

He generally keeps a posh, perfectly standard British accent – but when he’s angry, he slips into cockney.

Brilliant at making up creative insults.

France

He always notices how other people are dressed/their style in general and constantly criticizes what he doesn’t like when he’s in public.

He’s very hard to please when he’s travelling, always finds something to complain about the accommodation (the service, the food, the decor…);

Even so, he’s nice to the workers. He just complains with his friends.

He always tips very well when he’s eating out and is very friendly with the servers.

He flirts a lot, but he also respects boundaries. He might come across a bit too strong at times, but if he detects any unease, he backs off immediately. And NO touching involved until he’s 100% sure it would be welcome.

He’s really bad with deadlines. He says it’s because he puts his mental health first, but he doesn’t even make so much of an effort to actually meet those deadlines once he realizes he’s behind with work (unless it’s something he truly cares about).

A regular frequenter of theatres, the opera, classical concerts, and ballets.

He holds a very lavish lifestyle and doesn’t care about expenses. His government regularly tries to cut off his funds, but France keeps finding a way to get more money out of them.

At least once a month, he spends an entire weekend in a SPA to ‘recharge’. He likes bringing people with him, too.

He’s awful with technology. He can barely turn on a computer and he still has an old flip-phone with a plan that only includes calls and messages.

He still likes handwritten correspondence and keeps doing it with some people.

He prefers doing his hair-care, skin-care, and manicure on his own than having it done by other people as he has better control this way (and he thinks he’s just as good – if not better).

[sleepless-streetss]

Today I completed my first open water swim. Technically it wasn’t a long one, but it’s the first time I’ve swam in a setting that wasn’t a pool. It was freezing, but I pushed through because I really, really wanted to prove to myself I could. I had been planning on doing this, I just had hoped it would be a little warmer outside (it was 45 degrees outside this morning). Still, I dove straight into the water and swam until I felt I needed to float, floated for a while and looked at the sky, relaxing into the beauty of nature and turned around and swam back. I was freezing dragging myself out of that water, but I have never felt more alive. I wasn’t planning on bringing anybody with me for this, but a guy I’ve recently been seeing really wanted to come. I have known him since I was 13, we’ve been friends for a while and we just recently decided to take a leap of faith and date. He’s very strong, very kind, and so different than anybody I have been interested in before. He is absolutely without a doubt, not my type. That is not a bad thing. Dark thick hair, dark hooded eyes, tattoos that show on his outer body that make him look more hardened than he is but underneath those lies such a bright, light heart. He is my opposite in terms of, well everything besides working out. We hardly agree on anything. It’s wonderful. I learn something new every conversation that we have. The respect level we have for one another is incredible, even if we do not see eye to eye. He convinced me with a safety lecture about swimming safely so I let him tag along. He almost dove in with me, but it was like he read my mind. He stopped halfway through getting ready to dive and just slightly turned his head and said “what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours? I see the wheels turning in your eyes, I almost want to say it’s cute but you overthink everything, that’s not a bad thing, I just know you and you never stop thinking.” I wasn’t even trying to be rude, but I looked at him and laughed and said “I like you. I really, really like you. I know I’ve been taking it super slow with you but before I do this and possibly die, I wanted you to know that (at this point, we’re both laughing), I also really want to do this on my own. Please don’t hate me for this.” and he just looked at me and said “I knew you would, I just wanted to be here to support you. I’ve never met anybody as stubborn, as independent, as brilliant as you, and I would never want to change that. If you drown, I’ll sink to the bottom with you, and I’m not going to sit here and say that I’ll save you because you don’t need saving. Dive. Now. Please don’t die because you are not replaceable.” And off I went, he filmed the whole thing and yes, I was slow and my strokes were not perfect and you could tell I was freezing and my mother almost killed me when I returned sopping wet and slightly blue but I’ll be damned if I didn’t feel on fire.

And there he was. Standing on that shore line screaming “keep going! You’re a warrior!” At the top of his lungs. He jumped into the water with me at the end, and we just waded together cracking up in that cold, icy water. And he didn’t kiss me. He didn’t even try to touch me. 2 months of dating and he still respects every body boundary I have at this point. I wanted for the first time in a long time, to grab the sides of someone else’s face and feel their lips, but I was scared of ruining such a good moment. So we just stared at each other for a while. And he didn’t make me feel overwhelmed or under appreciated. We got so close our faces were inches from each other’s and he still didn’t force it. He just looked straight into my eyes and said “I have loved you for 7 years. Ive been waiting to say that forever. Loving you doesn’t ever go away, I have tried to find you in so many other peope but it just isn’t possible. You are amazing. You don’t ever have to say it back but I don’t think anybody could find anything as beautiful as your soul in this world and you deserve to know that. Inside and out, you are just, everything.” and he pulled me out of the water and onto the dock. He makes me feel like I am me. Like I can be me, without clinging to someone’s side. Like I am me, and not a part of somebody else. He hasn’t tried to claim me because I am not an object, and he wants to earn my respect. He has said multiple times that whenever I am ready, he is too. That he’s been ready since he was a kid, but he has waited patiently for me to find my way back. He’s let it be me. My terms. He also knows how I feel about social media and has respected me enough to keep me off of there as well. He likes that I am a winner, and my attitude about quitting is that I just won’t and he really admires that. Winners do not need validation from anyone but themselves, and they keep going, even when they feel like they’re about to drown. I still don’t know if he’ll be the one who makes me shine again. I’m taking it super slow, but he doesn’t try to make me feel like I’m something to show off to the world and that is so nice. I haven’t made it official simply because I’m enjoying this time we have together, but I’m still unsure if I am ready. Right now we are alone, hushed from the buzz of outside distraction and commentary. No pictures for anyone but ourselves, no need for a validation sticker on us, no outsiders commenting about it and giving unsolicited opinions, it’s been really nice. Being just us. But deep down right now, I really like being just me. Does that have to change? He likes me. Cold, sopping wet, hair sticking to her forehead, freezing and stubborn and blue in the lips. Laughing through possible hyperthermia and all the lows of her life because she just won’t let it keep her down. Because who doesn’t love a girl who just won’t quit and who does not give a damn who is standing beside her because she thrives standing alone? He admires me, and that is what has made me feel more beautiful than ever before. The freezing water and his smile and hearing that I am a warrior, that is how I began 2021. I can admit though without it hurting any longer, that there is a laugh I wish I could have heard on that shoreline as I struggled to swim my way back. The only thing in the world I think a part of me will always want validation from because I never got it back, but I’m scared the smile on the shoreline today might just overtake that perfect laugh in my mind. Why am I scared? I shouldn’t be scared. And I think that is why I memorized what Christian said to me. I have replayed this conversation for the past 24 hours in my mind trying to force something to click. Maybe it’s because I remember someone else loving me stubborn and wild, and this independent, too. I’m back, and I won’t let her disappear ever again. Why does she yearn for anybody else to admire that though? She can shut out anybody in the blink of an eye, no emotion about it, but him. He’s as cold as that icy water and yet she still would dive straight in if he asked her to.

[dvp95]

quiet on widow’s peak (2)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, youtuber phil lester, dan howell is not a youtuber, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 3.2k (this chapter), 6.4k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

"Do you remember the Wilkins place?"

"I'm well, thanks." Martyn's voice is dry, and Phil finds himself grinning at the wall despite himself. "How are you?"

"Good," says Phil. It's mostly true, although he could do without the piles of clothes he's sorting through. He holds his phone between his shoulder and his ear as he picks up a top of Sophie's and starts a whole new pile that he's calling delicates, aka things he's absolutely going to screw up somehow. "People think the Wilkins place is haunted."

There's a beat. Presumably, Phil's brother is trying to fit the name into adolescent memories to see where it slots in. "Oh, that wreck in Rusholme? It hasn't been condemned yet?"

"Apparently it's still a hot spot for binge-drinking teenagers," Phil says.

"Well, sure. But haunted? Really?"

"That's what I said!"

Phil feels a little vindicated by the skepticism in Martyn's voice, to be honest. His friends hadn't taken his weird feeling seriously at all.

"I mean, it's a dump," says Martyn. "More likely to be haunted by a bunch of rats than anything else. Why haven't we heard this before?"

"According to my sources," Phil says, only feeling a bit ridiculous about referring to a bunch of strangers on the internet as 'sources', "the activity only recently started. Which makes me think that someone's lying, or maybe one incident kickstarted everyone else's imaginations?"

"Both could be true. Why don't you ask Ian to go check it out?"

It's not exactly a sore spot, but something inside of Phil still twinges at the question. "He's a little busy, isn't he."

"So am I," Martyn says in that same dry, familiar tone that makes Phil feel as comforted as his mum's fretting or his dad's bad jokes do. "And yet here you are, on my phone."

"You don't have a toddler," Phil points out.

"I don't? Yet here you are..."

Phil snorts a laugh and drops all of the socks he's gathered into an empty basket. It's as good a place to start as any. "Shut up, Mar. I'm at least six."

There are, literally, enough dirty socks and pants between the four of them that Phil has a whole load of just underthings. He spares a moment to be grateful to Sophie for not including her bras, because he'd have no idea where to begin with those. He sighs and picks up the basket, fitting it against his hip with one hand so he can hold his phone with the other.

"Well, I can ask around," says Martyn. "I think my friends might be past the point of sneaking into abandoned houses to party, but maybe they've heard something from their annoying little brothers."

"Ha, ha," Phil says dryly. "Think I should contact some of the people making these claims?"

"Deffo," says Martyn. "If you can record them, it'd be best."

"Yeah, that way I can use them in the video," Phil hums, setting his basket on the washer and opening every cupboard to try to find the detergent. "I mean, if they're okay with that, obviously."

"I actually meant because your bullshit detector is dysfunctional, so me or Peej will have to tell you if someone's lying."

"Wow, rude. Whose fault is that?"

"Yours," Martyn informs him dryly. "Just because I told you Santa would pull you up through the chimney doesn't mean you had to believe me."

Phil rolls his eyes, but he's grinning. Maybe it's just a big brother thing, or maybe it's their personalities, but Martyn isn't wrong - Phil has a hard time telling when someone is lying to him. Martyn was always good at lying with a straight face and seeing right through Phil's outlandish stories.

"I still blame you," says Phil.

"Alright," says Martyn. "When are you coming to visit?"

"Probably not ‘til after this one," Phil says slowly, glancing at the kitten calendar on the fridge. They'd let one of their milder housemates pick this year's after everyone got tired of looking at Chris' previous choice of nude knitted puppets.

"Yeah? You gonna head up north for this one?"

In the very last cupboard he checks, Phil finds the detergent. He wants to be annoyed about it, but the truth is that Holly's habit of switching around the kitchen when she's anxious has saved many a pack of biscuits from expiring behind some flour. Phil has never once been useful to anybody when he's having a meltdown, so.

Phil absentmindedly loads the washer while he considers Martyn's question. Maybe it would be best to check the place out for himself, see if anything's really going on. He likes being on-site best, trusts his own gut more than he trusts strangers' eyes.

The problem, of course, is that Phil's childhood home is up for sale, he has no money for a hotel, and Ian's gone and got himself a child. The last thing Phil wants to do is impose or, like, get roped into babysitting. A trip to Manchester might be out of the question for him right now.

"Maybe," Phil says, noncommittal.

Martyn sees through him in an instant, like always. "Want me to ask Mum if they've got any viewings next weekend? I'm sure you know not to trash the place."

"Have I ever once trashed the place? Don't answer that," Phil adds, remembering the shaving cream incident.

A huff comes down the line, and Phil feels the same pride at making his brother laugh as he had when he was seven and making weird noises out the car window. Yeah, he definitely needs to go to London soon, the Isle afterwards - he hasn't seen his family in way too long.

"I'll let you know what's buzzing, if anything," says Martyn. "And I'll call Mum for you and all. I know you get weird about asking them for favours."

"I get weird about asking anyone for favours," Phil says instead of a thank you, because if he gets weird about asking for help, then Martyn gets twice as weird about reacting to gratitude.

"Except me."

Phil smiles, watching the rainbow of socks and pants spin. "Yeah. Except you."

--

Laundry does end up taking Phil most of the day, but he doesn't mind much. It's the least he can do when Chris always does the first draft edit for him, PJ reminds him to take his EMF meter and his meds when he's packing for an overnight, and Sophie sends him pages upon pages of research while she's at work. He's so fond of these people, and he appreciates all they do for him, but being in debt to them - and not in sole control of his projects - makes Phil feel like he's got ants crawling up his arms.

While he waits out the machine cycles, Phil starts putting feelers out into this story. He checks the sources linked to him again and shoots off a couple of direct messages and emails to see if any of the people posting about the Wilkins place are eager to chat one on one.

He's got his laptop set up at the kitchen table and he's on his third coffee of the day when it occurs to him that he's not out of the woods of owing favours just yet. He clicks back into the Tumblr submission that started this spiral.

He decides that he needs to thank this person, at the very least, and maybe offer to buy them a coffee or something when he's in town. They did so much of Phil's grunt work that it feels weird not to pay them back somehow.

"Well, I can't exactly do your laundry," Phil murmurs to the screen. He hopes none of his other housemates are milling around to hear him.

Another click, and he's on the blog. It's minimalist and monochrome in a way that makes things easy to read, but not very interesting to look at. Phil's eyes start to glaze over as he scrolls through, because it's entertaining enough but - well. It's a typical Tumblr blog. That familiar mixture of memes and rants about social issues and some gifs from shows that Phil doesn't have time to watch. There are a lot of familiar walls of text tagged as personal posts, but Phil still can't parse them without really trying.

They do reblog Phil's video posts, though. That makes him grin.

He scrolls back up to the top of the page to shoot them a message and immediately gets distracted by the bio.

winnie. 21. any pronouns.

For someone who sent Phil a wall of text that could be mistaken for copypasta at first glance, it's surprisingly succinct. Phil takes another swig of his coffee and tries not to get caught up on the last part of it.

Any pronouns? What does that mean, any pronouns? What if Phil uses the wrong ones? He isn't exactly a queer theory student, and as much as he supports everybody under his little rainbow umbrella, he's got to admit that a lot of things still go over his head.

He dithers for so long that his laptop screen goes black, and he makes a face at himself in its reflection. Surely he's overthinking this.

Hi!, Phil types, and then accidentally hits enter. He was just trying not to send the fan a paragraph back, but, fine. Oops. So I'm looking into the things you sent me on the Wilkins place and I'm really impressed by the amount of time you put into this? Like it makes MY job a lot easier haha. Is he a triple-texter? He's a triple-texter. The first one didn't count anyway. So thanks!!!!! I'll def give you credit in the video, but is there anything else I can do to pay you back?

Not literally, he wants to add right after he's sent it. Oh, well. He can't just keep spamming this poor person's chat. He hopes it's obvious that he'd offer monetary compensation if he had it.

Phil leaves the Tumblr tab open and works on editing for a little while. It's almost frustrating how bad this video is, how little effort and energy Phil has started putting into these, and he doesn't know how to fix it short of rethinking his entire career.

He could easily keep churning these out for as long as people watch them, but. He's not having fun anymore.

The Phil on his laptop screen is asking questions, wandering around a cemetery just to see if anything will happen, and Phil can't help comparing it to things he did last year, the year before that, the year before that - it feels like his content is declining as his enthusiasm for the topic does, or maybe vice versa.

Phil zones out for so long that the dryer chime goes off from the hallway, echoing through the old, creaky house. He'd given up on sorting the loads after the fifth shirt that could belong to any of them, so he just takes his own things out and folds his housemates' clothes into one basket.

They can figure it out, he's sure. There's only two bedrooms between the three of them, so there's only two closets, and Phil has gone so long without knowing who's officially sharing that it would be awkward to ask now.

Phil swaps the load over and goes back to his laptop, even though the very last thing he wants to do is continue editing and uploading this mediocre video.

The thing is, Phil doesn't need his content to be perfect. He's happy to post things that just make him laugh or have a nicely spooky vibe or whatever, he doesn't need to solve mysteries every month or two. It's just that. He can hear how little he cares about it, lately. It won't be long before people notice, if they haven't already.

Phil sighs and exits the project. Maybe this video is best left unposted. He's not happy with it at all.

Maybe, if this Wilkins place video doesn't pan out, Phil can start redirecting his energy into a different type of creative output. He's got so many stories bouncing around in his mind, he just needs to figure out how he wants to tell them.

It sounds like his father's voice inside his head, telling him you can't chase ghosts forever. He wishes he still had the gumption to disagree with it.

His laptop makes a little noise, and Phil blinks back to reality. He has to click on a few different tabs to figure out where it came from, but then he realises that he's gotten a response on Tumblr.

Phil smiles despite himself and gets ready for another difficult-to-read message.

Sure enough: UHHHHHH hi hello what the fuck i didnt expect you to say anything this is so weird i am being so weird right now um like no problem? i was procrastinating an essay and this was more fun to research so you dont have to thank me or pay me back whatever that means like i was just fucking around its fine but thank you?????

Phil thinks about the four word Tumblr bio again and snorts. Maybe Winnie wanted to seem as cool and minimalist as their theme itself was.

Procrastination or not, I appreciate it!, Phil replies. Would it be ok if I use you as a reference?

?????????????? i mean yeah but what the fuck, he gets back almost immediately.

It's nice to see you know some punctuation! Sorry if it's weird to reach out like this, I just wanted to like acknowledge the work you put in. I don't have to mention you in the video if you'd prefer!

The sound of the front door creaking open and slamming shut interrupts Phil's nervous typing. He freezes for a moment, fingers still on the keyboard, but then PJ comes in the kitchen with a little salute and several bags of craft supplies, and Phil can breathe again.

It isn't that the other people who live in this house are bad people. Far from it. It's just that, of the people Phil has opted to share this large space with for nearly two years, only three of them have made any kind of effort to understand Phil. The others are nice enough, he supposes, but sometimes they come and go and new people replace them and - Phil isn't exactly good with change, is the thing.

So he relaxes when he can talk to PJ instead of making small talk with someone who thinks he's weird and too messy. "Hey! How's your day?"

"Better than yours," PJ laughs. He drops all the bags on the table and starts puttering around the kitchen. "Hungry?"

"Please. And it wasn't so bad, I got some work done."

"Yeah? Any new info on the new haunt?"

It's incredible how genuinely interested PJ always is in Phil's work. Phil grins down at his keyboard and shrugs a bit. "Some. Mostly just poking around right now, though. Mar's asking his friends too. Oh, and I thanked the person who sent it in."

"That's good," PJ says. He's putting the kettle on, because that's what PJ does when he comes home. "How'd they react?"

"Mostly confusion," Phil laughs. He glances at his screen to see if Winnie has responded - they haven't - and chews on his lip a little bit. "Hey, Peej? If someone says any pronouns are fine, what does that mean?"

"Generally," PJ hums, "it seems like it would mean any pronouns are fine."

"Oh, shut up." Phil runs a hand through his hair, always anxious about getting stuff like this wrong.

"I'm not joking," PJ says, although his tone is still light.

"Oh. So it just... doesn't matter?"

"Not to some people, I guess." PJ leans against the counter as he waits for the water to boil. At least he's smiling, although Phil can't help but notice that it's a little patronizing. "You do know that I'm not a gender guru, right? I'm barely a gender novice. I failed gender out the gate, buddy."

Phil knows his cheeks are pinking up a bit, but he rolls his eyes. "Shut up," he repeats. "You still know way more than me."

The shrug he gets in response makes Phil huff a laugh. This isn't something they talk about, but Phil has been present for enough of Chris and PJ's conversations that he'd gotten the idea.

He wonders if PJ cares that he's bringing it up. Is he making PJ uncomfortable? They don't talk about this.

"Stop spiralling," PJ says easily. His smile is warmer, now. "I don't hate you, nobody hates you, and the fan who doesn't care about pronouns certainly doesn't hate you. If you're that worried about upsetting them, though, you can always ask."

Maybe he's known PJ too long. He's grateful for it, still, so relieved that he doesn't have to voice the swirling anxiety of doing something wrong when he only has the best intentions.

"I guess I could do that," Phil mutters, embarrassed by how easily he's been read.

Winnie's responded by the time Phil looks back at the chat window, a lmao yeah ofc thats fine i just cant believe you want to, im not trying to b weird ive just been a fan for a really long time?? (used a comma for you too) (and brackets) (youre welcome) that makes Phil smile.

Awesome! And are the name Winnie & they/them pronouns fine to talk about you with, or do you prefer something else for this?

no yeah thats good idc how you refer to me, is Winnie's immediate response. It's stupid how much of a load feels like it's been lifted off of Phil's shoulders at that easy reassurance.

"You were right," Phil informs PJ.

PJ nods, solemn, as he stirs his noodles. "I often am."

"You're annoying, also," says Phil. "Hey. D'you wanna come up north with me?"

"Phil," says PJ dramatically, holding the wooden spoon up to his heart. "Are you asking me to run away with you?"

"No, absolutely not, stop making that joke." There's no way in hell Phil is going to keep putting up with this from both of them, and PJ is more likely to listen to him than Chris is.

PJ laughs. "Yeah, yeah. You going to see the haunt?"

"If my parents are okay with us hanging out for the weekend, yeah."

"Oh, okay," says PJ. "We're just waiting on confirmation that Kath and Nigel want to spend time with you? Might as well pack now."

"Your stuff's folded," Phil says helpfully. PJ throws a noodle in his general direction. It flops onto the floor between them, a sad, wet spiral of a thing, and Phil touches his nose at the same time PJ does.

"Well, one of us has to pick it up," PJ says in his Reasonable Adult voice, as if he hadn't thrown it in the first place.

Phil looks at his laptop, valiantly pretending not to see the floor noodle, and blinks.

and i mean i havent seen any of this shit firsthand but if you need to ask me anything about the stuff thats gone down im always free. like literally always.

[rotationalsymmetry]

Why it’s bad — not just not helpful, but actively harmful — to go out on your way to shit on* people who might not vote Biden:

(Premises: truth is good and important, kindness is good and important, my audience is generally left of center and does not like Biden’s opposition, anybody reading this basically wants to do the right thing, the idea that the means justify the ends is kind of situational: sometimes how important your end goal is does actually affect what methods of getting there are appropriate (pushing someone away from you is excessive if they said something you didn’t like but appropriate as defense against assault), but also some things are always just wrong. Also, that climate change is a global existential threat, covid-19 is real, imperialism is bad, Black lives matter, there is no moral justification for the US to restrict immigration at all let alone anything about how undocumented immigrants are being treated, the prison system is extremely racist in practice and not actually a good idea in theory either, etc.)

People are stubborn cusses who don’t like being told what to do. Personally I’m not going to hold up “be nice to me or I might do the opposite of what you want just to spite you” as a threat because fuck I’ve got more self control than that and I know the stakes are sky high. But realistically: some people really are contrary enough to do that. So, demanding rather than asking or arguing for a thing is always a risk. (Demanding often feels safer. But that’s an illusion.)

People are stubborn cusses who don’t like being told what to do. And especially certain kinds of people — people with a history of being bullied or abused — tend to be very sensitive to being pressured, manipulated, or coerced into doing what other people want them to do. So it can harm relationships between people and between factions of the Left when some people/factions are demanding that others act a certain way, especially when the demands come attached to negging-like statements. (I get there’s a place for eg just shutting down terfs or Nazis. This isn’t that kind of thing; no one’s argument is based on the idea that other people aren’t really people here. At least not on the “don’t tell me what to do” side of this. Also, it’s possible to deplatform people without telling them they don’t really believe what they say they believe.)

It’s not polite and is not really ethical either. Consider: “if you cared about me you’d wash the dishes”, vs “hey, it’s your turn to wash the dishes.” “If you really held progressive values, you would vote Biden (and by implication, not criticize him until after the election)” follows the same pattern. “The fewer people vote Biden, the more likely it is that (the Republican candidate) will win the election” is a neutral statement of fact, and not one of the things I’m objecting to. It’s also not something I’ve actually heard anyone say this election cycle.

It’s not constructive, because getting people who are already likely to vote Democrat to actually vote is a better use of everyone’s time than trying to persuade someone who has already decided not to.

It’s not constructive, because if you want to change someone’s mind this is not how you do it. See point 1.

It’s not necessary: it’s possible to express support for Biden as a candidate and encourage people to vote for him without mentioning the existence of people who might not vote for him at all. Even if in the moment you feel motivated to express support for Biden because you read a post by someone expressing a lack of inclination to vote for him.

If you’re not sure about that claim that it’s not constructive (fair — you should be suspecting me of motivated reasoning), look at what people who actually run campaigns do. Is Biden insulting people who don’t want to vote for him on Twitter? Is the Democratic Party asking volunteers to insult people who don’t want to vote Democrat, as a way or contributing to the campaign? Is it paying people to do that? No? I wonder why that is? Maybe that’s because insulting people who don’t want to vote for a candidate doesn’t actually win campaigns?

Put yourself in someone else’s shoes. Remember a time when someone insulted you for not agreeing with them. How did you feel? Conversely, think of a time when you changed your mind about something. How did that happen?

Why it’s actually OK to talk about being unenthusiastic about voting Biden (even if you really want him and not his opposition to win the election):

Well, fuck, look for another post on the subject I guess.

Some notes on impulse control:

Sometimes, another person says something on tumblr and you’re like “fuck yeah” and it just feels right to you and you reblog it. Maybe that’s where some of this is coming from: people who’ve decided to definitely vote for and fully support Biden (reservations notwithstanding) see a post, feel frustrated, go “yeah that’s right,” and reblog without really thinking about how it’s going to come across. That’s understandable. People tend to use social media to relax and unwind; we don’t necessarily bring our full game to it.

If that’s going on, maybe learn to recognize this pattern (recognize when a post that’s a feel-good vent to you is really hurtful to someone else, because it’s manipulative af) and think twice before clicking post? Maybe in general get in the habit of taking a breath/five seconds before posting or reblogging something? I realize for many of us that’s easier said than done, and it can be a work in progress. I’m not proud of everything I’ve hit post on even after I’ve given it some thought.

Maybe some people have an attitude of “well, if anyone is hurt by this, I don’t want them on my blog anyways.” I’d suggest, as an in between measure, tagging this stuff. “Biden” or “us politics” or “election 2020” or something. Explanation for why people who might have this kind of reaction might still be people who share your values either right before this post or right after, depending on what order I decide they’re done in.

Now, I messed up here. My first five or six reactions to this sort of post was not a positive one, but I wasn’t sure whether I had a good reason to not like them or was just...reacting. I have mental health issues and sometimes have much stronger reactions to things than the things warrant. So I just...didn’t say anything or do anything until it got to be too much and I lost my shit. Not ideal. If I had to do it over again, I’d send politely worded messages to people I wanted to keep following who were posting this stuff, asking them to not do that and briefly explaining why. But, I’m at a point where I can’t do the politely worded thing, which makes actually directly addressing the people who are doing this a much trickier proposition. So. Here we are. And I’m blogging to whoever the fuck reads my blog (other than my husband, who really doesn’t deserve any of this) like that’s actually going to help.

At least it’s making me feel better.

* “shit on”: this isn’t about the sort of posts that are all “vote for Biden!” Or “vote for Biden because ... ” or “I’m voting for Biden because...” or “here’s some non-straw-man arguments for not voting Biden that I’m going to disagree with in a way that basically respects that someone can make one of those arguments and be a fundamentally decent person also.” This is about the posts that are all “if you’re considering not voting Biden you are a tentacle monster from the dimension of non-Euclidean geometry, and also incredibly stupid because the only reason someone might do this is this tissue-thin straw-man argument.” And it’s certainly not about the posts that are “you might want to deliver your mail in ballot in person if that’s possible where you live” or “check to make sure you haven’t been dropped from the voter registry” or other posts that actively address barriers to voting or getting one’s vote counted. Those are good, keep doing those.

[ravens-rambling]

Your OTP’s faces smooshed next to each other

A/N: *breaths* I am slowly but surely going through all these asks ahhh. I’m very sorry this isn’t as good anon! And it took forever and a day. But I hope you like it! 

WC: 1,225

ships: Romantic Prinxiety

warnings: Uuuhh not much really, mentions of bullying, use of the word ‘fag’, slight anxiety, kissing, cursing, slight crying

Tag List: @punsterterry @stormcrawler75 @frostedlover @mycatshuman @mutechild @panicattheeverywhere15 @thewinterbookqueen @analogical-mess @saddestlittlebabe

“Roman, I hate you so much right now.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault we got shoved into this closet! You’re the one who took the dare!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think I’ll be put in here with you! I thought it’ll be Pat or L they are at least sufferable to deal with unlike you!”

“Oh, bo for you. Looks like we both are suffering here now aren’t we.”

Virgil stuck out his tongue at the other, though with how close they are to each other he was just a fraction of an inch away from straight up licking Roman’s cheek.

And that was disgusting to him.

Quickly he turned away though he tried to hide his slight blush. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that disgusting to him. And yes okay maybe he had a slight…big time crush on Roman. How could he not though everyone in school does! Even the chicks and Roman has told the girls plenty of times that he’s gay. And still, they didn’t light up.

Course he had to be the one to fall in love with this jerk.

And be caught in this stupid dare with him.

Honestly, he did secretly wish for Roman to be the one he’s stuck with even though he does drive him nuts cause honestly? This is properly as close as he’ll ever get to him… How lucky is he?

He huffed, “Well to pass by the time why couldn’t you answer that truth question? Am I really that enjoyable to hang out with?”

He glanced back to see Roman rolling his eyes, “Please if so. You really want to know why?”

“Sure. Though can you move your knee. It’s up my ass.”

This was a really tight closet.

“Oh yeah sure. Well, one I didn’t want to admit it but I do have a crush.”

Virgil raised his hopes, just for a bit. Maybe it’s him? No, it properly isn’t it. What is he kidding?

“Really? Do tell.”

“And I didn’t want to tell the room that my crush was in the room with me so…here we are.”

“Really, Princey?” He raised his eyebrows, “Couldn’t swallow your pride for one moment could you?”

As if on cue Roman smiled at him as he turned his hair waving along with him, he blew a kiss, “Nope.”

And cue Virgil’s cheeks growing bright red again, luckily there wasn’t enough light in here for Roman to tell thank god. This stupid dare is going to kill him, it really is. This is his last day alive.

He tried to play it off by coughing, “Well. If that’s the case would you tell me who this guy is?”

“No can do,” Roman frowned, “You uh…might know him.”

“Have you met me? I only have a few friends. I highly doubt I know him Princey.”

“Oh no, you know him.”

“Oh god is it Patton?”

“What!” He looked so flabbergasted and shocked that Virgil knew he was telling the truth, sure Roman’s a good actor but even he could tell this wasn’t acting, “No! I mean he’s a sweetheart but nah, not my type.”

“Logan then? I mean you guys are always bickering maybe you two have a fighting kink or something.”

“Dear god stop talking right now. There is no fucking way I’ll ever bang him. Just stop, stop.”

“Well, those are my only two friends. What do you want from me? I am the social outcast here. Ya know the whole ‘bad luck emo faggot’ that everyone loves to name me. And yes some people have named me that.”

Virgil didn’t see it more as he felt it, Roman winched at that name. Maybe that name hurt him too. Course who knows maybe he was bullied before he came to this school? No way anybody would call Roman names here… Unless they want their head cut off that is.

“Well no, you’re wrong… Your gonna have me spell it out for you aren’t I?”

Okay, now Virgil was really lost here, “Uh… Yeah, I think so, unfortunately…?”

Now the other teen sighed loudly then he looked to the corner and mumbled something.

“Sorry what? I didn’t quite catch that.”

“I SAID ITS YOU VIRGE! It’s…you…that I have a crush on.”

The emos eyes went wide. His heart skipped a beat as his mind went a thousand miles at once.

Roman Prince…

The Roman Prince likes him???

But he’s… Virgil.

Virgil who is a nobody. An outcast. Somebody who everyone takes one glance at and looks away like he’s made of shit. Somebody that everyone just uses and tosses away like his trash.

This can’t be real.

“Did somebody dare you to say that? Are people swapping money out there while listening in? Haha, guys very funny! Wonderful joke!” He looked down at his phone, “And I think this stupid dare is over. I’m heading home. Nice chatting with you, Roman. See you Monday right? As normal. Bye.”

But as he moved to open the door a hand caught his jacket. Teary dark eyes looked over to see the other…with his head down. “Please… Virge… It’s not a dare. It’s not a trick… I really do like you… I know that this situation might seem like its a joke but I’m serious. I haven’t had a chance to tell you to cause…well, I didn’t know the time or place… Please…” That’s when he finally moved his head up and oh god, he really did look brokenhearted if the tears coming down his face wasn’t enough indication.

“Y-You do?”

Roman nodded, “Patton told me a few weeks ago that you liked me don’t be mad at him I begged him to tell me. But Virge I-”

He was cut off by lips smacking against his. They seemed to melt together into one as they kissed, sure it was uncomfortable being in such a tight space like this, but neither of them seemed to have a care in the world about that. And sure their dare was almost up so anybody could open the door on them. But who gives a shit.

Roman’s hand moved from his arm up to his cheek as he slowly cupped it, very gently he held the other closer to his kiss. While the other raised his hand to hold Roman’s head steady.

It was a passionate kiss, a kiss full of want and need. A kiss that was long since overdo. A kiss that they only had dreamed of, that they couldn’t believe was happening right at this very moment.

They didn’t even stop when they heard a door opening and coos and whistling soon after.

“Yeah! I’m so proud of you two!! Lo, look at this-”

“Patton if you don’t shut up and close that door right now I will melt your face off.” Virgil only drew away to say that then as soon as he did go right back to kissing.

“Sure… Ya… Whatever you say V! Just gotta…” They heard a few clicks of a camera phone and Virgil had to resist to groan. He’s gonna post that everywhere now is he? Oh well. This was more important at the moment. Then finally they heard a door close.

Once they did Roman mumbled, “Wow you really want privacy don’t you?”

“Oh shut up Princey and kiss me some more would you?”

[toonstarterz]

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #164

Hey, not dropping the ball actually worked!

We’re just a hair’s length away from summer vacation, but unlike last year when Tomoko approached summer with not much consideration, she’s now taking a proactive role in deciding how to spend her last summer in high school. At first glance, Tomoko appears to have become a responsible, young lady. But as we soon will see, that can-do attitude may not be as refined as it looks on the surface.

Chapter 164: Because I’m Not Popular, I’ll Do My Best Starting From Summer Break 

There’s that time period during the day when most students have already left but school hasn't quite closed up. It’s pretty creepy, even more so before summer break when you’re expected not to stick around.

Have I mentioned Itou is a cute? ‘Cause she is.

It’s usually her looking after Komiyama, so it’s really sweet to see the dynamic flipped around like this. Despite, well, everything, Komiyama is a good friend.

Assuming that cheering for the baseball teams is optional, it’s endearing to see Itou go through with it. Even though baseball isn’t her thing, she’s likely doing it to support her bestie, which I can 110% get behind.

Ah, right. Dude’s in the manga club. That said, I wonder if their plans are for just being attendees, or if they’ll actually be manning a booth and selling their work. With his skills and, er, preferences, I think Hatsushiba could do the latter.

Don’t be so modest, Tomoko. There’s no slouching either when you’re a three-year veteran of the Going-Home Club. 

Studying during summer break? Outrageous!!

It’s intriguing to see just how Tomoko’s study habits have evolved throughout the series. The early days would see her spend summer goofing off on her hobbies, with bare minimum concern for academics. But now, Tomoko is actually considering studying on her own accord. Sure, it’s more-or-less a fallback when she has nothing else planned, but the thought itself is still worth mentioning.

Is that one of those mini-fans that you can carry around in your bag? I love those things.

Study camp, huh? Any other day, Tomoko would be apathetic to the idea, leaning more on the side of brushing it off. But having Katou bring it up makes all the difference, ‘cause let’s be real. Katou could ask her to sign up for a hostess bar at the Red Light District and Tomoko would still seriously consider it.

Miss you, Yuu-chan.

I second that, Komi. Fourteen hours of studying a day is brutal, even if that’s to be expected in what is essentially a boot camp. I’ve always questioned the efficiency of cram schools and the like, mostly because they seem to prepare more for short-term memorization than long-term understanding. But even it actually works in principle...

...I’m not sure Tomoko will be able to handle it.

Perhaps it’s just me, but it feels like Tomoko is overestimating her discipline for studying. She already struggled with Katou’s flashcards and study sessions that a whole training camp feels like it would have a more detrimental effect on Tomoko than a positive one. “Work hard, play hard” was never meant to be that extreme, Tomoko.

That’s...genuinely uplighting. Tomoko has missed out on several of the key “memorable” high school moments, and she usually lets it go with only mild regrets. But here, Tomoko’s actively trying to gain what she once lost. Sure, she’s trying to “game the social system” a little, but what did you expect? She’s a person, not a saint.

This was Yuu’s only line in this entire chapter. My girl deserves more than this.

Will the 2% of Tomoko’s personality that is tsundere ever realize that if you really “didn’t care either way”, then you wouldn’t have asked the question to begin with? Doubt it.  

That romaji tho.

It comes to the surprise of absolutely no one that Komiyama has some pretty...vivid fantasies about Tomoki. But what stands out to me is how deep into the relationship her thoughts go. Most people fantasize about their crush first in their sexual attractiveness, but only a few ever dream beyond that. Ironically, you know your crushing has gone off the deep end if you start thinking about them in domestic, SFW ways. Least Komi’s committed, yeah?

Gee, I wonder what’s that “and stuff” Tomoko’s talking about?masturbating

Nothing like a fresh bowl of Grossi-Os and Gross Juice to start the day!

If what Yuri says is true, then that would mean that she and Ucchi have probably walked to school together several times before–more than the couple of times we’ve seen, at least. And even so, it doesn’t look like they haven’t gotten much closer as friends, if at all. Some people just don’t click, I suppose.

Not sure how blind Ucchi is because anybody with a pair of eyes (beady or not) would see that Yuri has friends, even if you only count Mako. Poor girl just can’t accept the truth even when it's right in front of her face.

Ah, Yuri. Why can’t you just drop the “savior” act and just admit you want to spend time with her?

I’m inclined to agree about Yoshida, but who knows? She’s surprised us before. Mako's a safe bet, though. Especially if the former’s going. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Boy, does that take me back. It still blows my mind that all of Ucchi’s problems originated from one night of misunderstandings. The art nerd in me really appreciates the subtle improvement in Niko’s art style. The character models feel “weightier” and more consistent without compromising the stylization. 

You don’t see it in the previous panel, but Ucchi was totally blushing at the prospect of reliving her trauma/dream. Perhaps she was also looking to live out that ping pong match she never got.

I’m not sure if there was some kind of wordplay in the original text. Either way, it kind of sucks for Yuu-chan that she got such a “flattering” nickname when she wasn’t involved in that scenario whatsoever. Though it sure is a tad classier than Miss Akari “Dick Sister Jr.’ Iguchi.

It’s kind of (read: absolutely) frightening how Katou’s envy towards Yuu feels a lot more intense than Yuri’s. Perhaps it’s because Yuri’s so transparent that you know how to deal with her. But with Katou, that air of secrecy feels like a nuclear bomb about to go off. 

I always wondered where girls picked up that thing where they intertwine their fingers as a sign of affection. It’s precious.

Praise modern technology for convenient storytelling.

Wow, Fuuka’s already made her mark on Tomoko’s “bitch” list. Though exactly why she’s on that list now is kind of odd. I mean, yeah, she asked Tomoko about the whole fondling thing, and she unintentionally presented herself as a pervert for the whole “hair” thing, but Fuuka hasn’t really done anything all that terrible. If anything, Tomoko is probably expressing a rare bit of jealousy towards someone else supposedly perving on Katou besides her.

The most striking part about Fuuka’s inevitably failed plan is that she describes Tomoko’s appearance as “sudden”. It was touched on before, but it further emphasizes that Tomoko’s friendship with Katou was just as unexpectedly quick in-universe as it was for the readers. And in doing so, it brings us one step closer to the real mystery over why Katou is so enamored with Tomoko in the first place. 

Ya’ll know Sayaka’s got her homegirl’s back on this one. Let’s see (hopefully) how Akari screws it up. 

Chapter 58, mothereffers!

I don’t know whether I’d say Nico Tanigawa has been playing the long game, or if they just found a convenient throwaway to capitalize on. But the acknowledgment itself is very much appreciated. Tomoko may have forgotten, naturally, but us overzealous fans certainly never did! 

The chills, man. Chill’s right up the spine.

It’s certainly true that Tomoko’s words can be interpreted in a good or bad way, so it’s pretty telling that Katou’s gut reaction went for the latter. It suggests that Katou may actually have some insecurities that can easily set her off. Then again, a defining part of Katou’s personality is that she takes everything Tomoko says at completely face value, so maybe she’s starting to see Tomoko’s negativity even if it’s not there. Just more of the enigma that is Asuka Katou.  

Not a bad save, Tomoko. Countless battles with shame have made her quick on the fly. Unfortunately, while she’s improved at starting a save...

...she still doesn’t know how to end it.

It would’ve been a clean getaway if Tomoko had just ended about half-way in the above panel. But because Tomoko’s anxiety causes her to try and cover all the bases, she ends up rambling suspiciously. The part about Nemo isn’t even that relevant, but in her burst of defensiveness, Tomoko ends up saying things that could just exacerbate the problem even further.

Fucking shit, Katou is damn scary.

The one fortunate thing about Tomoko’s defensive rambles is that once she starts to cool down, her honesty starts coming out more organically. Self-deprecation becomes self-reflection, and brings to the forefront Tomoko’s endearing side.

Only Tomoko could spout such a cliché moe line and sound so pure of heart. Must be the irony. 

Aha. Ahaha. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

–that totally didn’t happen.

Tomoko, girl, you’re in the CLEAR! Stop trying to fan flames that have already been put out.

But on that note, it does affirm that while Tomoko is honest with Katou about certain things (perversion, laziness), she isn’t quite ready to be honest on anything that would paint Katou in a bad light. I’d say tha’st about 85% due to fear.

Death Flags raised all around.

I had a feeling that Nemo would take the plunge this time and invite Tomoko out somewhere during the summer. It seems like such an insignificant gesture, but considering that this is the very first time a classmate has asked to hang out with her during the summer, it warms my heart.

Hey now, Tomoko. Don’t get cocky when you’re maximizing your own goof-off time by taking a study camp.

The easy guess is that Nemo wants to go to Comiket. But really, it could be anything that Tomoko would have an interest in. And because it’s implied that Nemo is going for research purposes, it could be anything from a seiyuu panel (the last one went so well) to a hot spring to a hentai game company. Hope they bring Okada along...

Mama senses her daughter’s giving in to peer pressure.

Not gonna lie. This hand gesturing from Rena made me think that she was thinking about doing...something else.

Damn mind-in-the-gutter.

Even though Anna doesn’t appear to be the studious type, it’s pretty cool to see that she can respect people who are. Also, I dig the way she wears her tie (or is that a ribbon?). 

Emoji II really has become an honorary delinquent and it fits her perfectly. 

I guess no matter how much more grounded Tomoko becomes, she still thinks reading manga is legitimate practice for playing in real-life (though tabletop games may actually allow for some truth).  

Sub!Tomoko confirmed.

What a way to end a chapter. For the longest, Katou had always viewed Tomoko through a pair of rose-tinted glasses, always seeing the girl’s faults as endearing “quirks”. But as her soul-piercing gaze seems to indicate, Katou has reached a revelation about Tomoko that she can actually disapprove of. Whether or not it’ll shatter her illusion of Tomoko is still unclear, but how she treats Tomoko from here on out may finally give us a deeper look into Katou’s psyche. 

160+ chapters we’ve followed Tomoko, and we’re still learning new things about her. The very extent of Tomoko’s agency has always been a tad murky. She’s good at (poorly) executing short-term ideas, but hardly does she plan out and follow up on her long-term goals. Even her greatest milestone of making friends involved a lot of pushing from outsiders (Ogino, the most obvious case). That said, having to take charge of herself for once is inescapable with college on the horizon. How she goes about it amongst her various mom-friends may end up being Tomoko’s biggest personal challenge yet.  

[cocoisbestgirl]

Fanfic I can’t think of a name for pt 7

“Felicity! Please tell me you didn’t!”

“Magda, I have to help you out!”

Magda felt her body temperature rise as she blushed.

“Felicity please tell them I’m sick!” She faked a cough for a few seconds, “You can’t just set me up on dates like this!”

“Oh come on Magda, have a little fun! I do this stuff all the time.”

Magda finally started to run from felicity only to be caught a few seconds later. Felicity laughed for a second and a half before realizing how quickly Magda’s heart was beating.

“I uh…” She let go of Magda, “You’re not feeling well… go back to sleep.”

“T-than-”

“Magda, just go.”

Magda walked back inside and climbed back through the window they escaped through, and back to her room. The house was remarkably dark. The moon failed to light up most of the rooms, Magda feared she would run into something and get caught. Luckily, she managed to stumble back into her room. 

She was half-expecting Eliza to be there. Yet, the room was empty.

“Felicity, you’re usually not like this. What’s wrong?” Ivan quietly sat down next to Felicity. The tavern was as lively as ever, yet Felicity didn’t move an inch. 

Ivan moved over to his friend and sat down next to her with two drinks in his hands, one for him and one for her.

“Ivan, what do you think of me?”

“Uh….”

“Like.. am I bad?” Felicity took the drink Ivan offered her. 

A noblewoman should never trust a civilian outside of a ball, especially with drinks. Felicity knew Ivan wouldn’t do anything, and she had known him for years. Since they were little, in fact.

“A bad person?”

“No, I don’t see you like-”

“No! Ugh, that’s not what I meant!” Felicity grumbled as she took a few sips of whatever drink Ivan got for her, “Am I a jerk?”

“Sometimes, yeah. Aren’t we all?”

“I-I keep messing up, Ivan. Do you know Magda- Oh What am I talking about of course you know about her. Well, I tried to invite her out, so I set her up on a date...”

Ivan perked up at that name...it sounded oh so familiar. He knew that name from somewhere. ‘Magda’. Ivan had met plenty of nobles before, but that wasn’t it. He knew a Magda, but he couldn’t put a face to the name.

“Oh, no, Felicity,” Ivan said as he put his now empty glass on the bar.

“I know I know! Xavier isn’t here is he?”

“Oh, him? No, I haven’t seen him at all recently come to think of it.”

“Oh thank the Goddess!” Felicity near yelled as she relaxed a bit in her chair, she quickly had to put her foot down to prevent herself from falling over.

“I heard he’s working to stop the Revolts.”

“The rev-what now?”

“The revolts? Yeah, people are sick of nobles. They’ve mostly been small. I’ve been told that more than likely they’ll just give up.”

Felicity felt a slight drop in her stomach. She clenched her drink a bit in her hands.

“Do you think they’ll actually do anything?” Her voice trembled slightly.

Ivan stopped for a few seconds and thought about the question for a bit.

“Yeah.”

“D-don’t just say yeah!”

“Well, Felicity… it’s just a matter of time, really. People have been mad for ...awhile now. The saint...well hasn’t really been doing anything. The 4 big houses haven’t done anything in years. In my opinion, it’s about time something is done about it.”

“It’s not that easy, Ivan. I mean they have their own issues too.”

“Like what dress they’re going to wear? Or if they’re going to have to adopt one of the thousands of bastards they produce every year, must be super hard.”

“Is that...what you think noble life is like?”

Ivan shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s not...Ivan, listen. They’re trying. I promise.”

“I want to think that...I really do.”

The morning light shone through the windows and directly onto Magda’s eyes, forcing her awake. The blonde girl looked around for a few seconds she examined her surroundings, before standing up. She stumbled over to her closet, still half asleep, she didn’t know what she was going to wear if she needed to wear anything special. A quick knock on her door woke her up completely.

“Miss Magda? There is a delivery for you!” 

“Oh, Just leave it outside of the door, I’ll grab it. Thank you.”

Magda slid the box into her room using her foot. The box was decently heavy, nothing too much. Just as expected, there were a few dresses inside of the box. All of them nice, and most of them were darker colors. Dark colors tend to look better on light-haired people. One was pure black, another a greyish-pink, finally one was a navy blue.

Magda had no clue if there was a ball today or not. More than likely there was, but without knowing she slid back under her sheets.

Only a few seconds passed before another knock woke Magda from her daydream.

“Magda,” it was Miss Eliza...mother

“Y-yes...mother?”

“You’ve been invited to a social gathering held by the Jorcastles.”

“Ah! I’ll get Felic-”

“She’s..not going. She’s sick,” Something about the way Eliza said that made her feel strange. Something was most definitely off.

Magda felt a sudden urge in her stomach, “May I see the Invitation?”

“No, A servant came with the message. There was no letter.”

Another strike shot through her, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to make Eli...Mother angry.

“Thank you, W-”

“Wear Blue,” Eliza shut the door quickly making Magda flinch. It was only when She heard the doorknob click as it locked did she realize she probably shouldn’t ask too many questions in this house. At least this early.

Her mouth opened to protest, but no words came out, Only a sigh as she examined her latest dresses.

Most of them were nothing extraordinary, except the navy blue one was eye candy to the highest degree. Magda had sworn she had made something very similar in the past. She examined it and immediately fell in love with it. All the flowers reminded her of some distant memory that had been long forgotten.

The night’s ball was small, only a few people. Magda’s heart raced without Felicity by her side, but she was also comforted by the lies she had made about her past. Those would at least cover her tracks for a small while.

Before long a servant came and whisked her away to the Duchess Tilla’s side.  Their conversation was pleasant, mostly just small talk about how their days were, how Magda had been adjusting, ect.

“So, Miss Ellenstein what would you say was the biggest struggle?”

“Hm,” Magda looked at Tilla in thought she stayed quiet for a few moments as her mind searched for something to say, “I think the hardest part of growing up in the slums was food.”

“Ah, of course. I’m sure nothing in the slums even compares to some of the delicacies we have at this ball!” Tilla laughed as she covered her mouth.

‘She really has no idea what the slums are like ...does she?’ Magda thought as she smiled at the older woman.

“Hm, Young lady? Is something wrong?”

“Absolutely not! Plea-please don’t worry!”

Tilla looked deeply at Magda. Chills were sent through every inch of Magda’s spine. It was almost like Tilla was trying to steal Magda’s soul with her eyes alone.

“Ah...I apologize. I was staring... how rude of me… your earrings are gorgeous,” Tilla looked away from Magda for a few seconds before spotting her prey.

She spotted who else but Lynna and smiled slightly before putting her attention back to the more valuable blonde in front of her.

“Magda, you must tell me more about that jewelry! I’ve never seen anything like it!” Tilla raised her voice as she made eye contact with her step-daughter.

“Oh..please don’t flatter me.” 

Lynna scoffed as she ran away from the scene in the garden. She knew Tilla was going to pull something like this.

“Magda, I have kind of a strange question.”

“Mhhm?”

“While you were in the slums,” Tilla started, “Did you ever kill anybody?”

“Huh!? N-no I couldn’t! I wouldn’t! I-”

Tilla’s face dropped a bit, as if she wanted to hear the opposite.

“Ah, I’m just teasing. You really are as adorable as they say. Unfortunately your sister on the other hand… well I understand why you called her just a friend at our first ball. I wouldn’t want to be compared to that brute either.” 

“Oh, She’s not that bad now that I got to know her a bit.”

Tilla looked at Magda with a...confusing expression. It was somewhere between anger and happiness that Magda couldn’t pinpoint no matter how hard she tried. Her eyes smiled, but her mouth was stuck in a semi-frown. 

“Well,” Tilla broke the silence, “I must be going now. I must ask you a favor, please tell me more about the slums next time.”

Magda and Tilla said their goodbyes and headed their own ways. Magda was only able to take a few steps before being spoken to by another anonymous noble whose name would be forgotten in just an hour or so.

All until-

“Excuse me, would you like a drink?”

Magda turned around and saw a servant, a very familiar servant.

“I-Ivan?”

The boy looked at her in shock before standing up straight, “M-miss I- wait. Magda! Oh my gosh it’s you!”

“Oh my gosh!” Magda near squealed as she held out her arms to hug him, only for him to back away.

“N-not here, People will judge you,” Ivan took a fruity looking drink off of the plate he held in his left hand and handed it to Magda, “I’m on shift right now. I’ll...send for Felicity later,” Ivan began to walk away from Magda.

“Ivan..wait,” Magda wanted to reach out for her long-lost friend but lacked the courage to actually stop him from walking away.

Ivan didn’t even turn around, he just kept walking. Mainly to hide the growing smile on his face.

‘Magda. That was her name.’  he thought

Magda had continued to speak to countless people, she told then all the same things over and over. Yes, she lived in the slums. No she never worked with Hosta. No she had a job, etc, etc. Magda felt her head churning from saying the same words over and over again. It wasn’t a headache, but instead it just felt grinding.

“Uh...Magda?” Magda perked up slightly at the voice, before looking away for a second to catch her breath. She was going to have to be a broken record yet again. She looked behind herself and saw Alan. 

She breathed a sigh of relief, and walked over to him.

“Yes?”

Alan put his hand in his pocket and felt the earrings, “I wanted to speak with you. It’s been a while.”

“It’s been a few days. Not that long.”

“W-well anyways I was wondering if I uhm..could..”

“Hm? Sir Alan, you’re stuttering.”

“Can I have this dance with you?”

That night Magda’s brain refused to shut down. Her thoughts raced over and over again. She remembered Alan,he remembered her he had to..... at least to an extent. She remembered his greyish eyes growing large as he saw her. It gave her butterflies in her stomach.

She felt her face getting warm as she buried her head in a pillow. It really was Alan, wasn’t it. She never met another Alan so it must be him, right? None that had blonde hair, and those ...pretty eyes of his… or his voice…

Magda buried her head deeper into the pillow, trying not to let all of the food she had eaten at the ball come up from her stomach to make an unpleasant visit. She definitely drank too much. A young light-haired girl had offered her drinks in exchange for a few moments with Magda. The drinks were particularly weak. Magda had only drunk one or maybe three ...well…..maybe just a little sip of her 5th glass...not too awful much. At least for a slums girl.

Drinks in the slums were usually a kick in the mouth with every sip, they usually tasted like straight cleaning liquids, but they got you drunkest the quickest. They were also fairly cheap, Whatever she was given was something...amazing… a mix of strawberries and...another flavor Magda couldn’t quite figure out. It hit her later then she thought it would.

Now Magda was swooning into her pillow about a boy who probably hadn’t even thought about her in years. He probably forgot her for the longest time, but she forgot about him at the same time. 

Her childhood wasn’t a very happy one, but Alan and her shared quite a few memories together. He would understand her. He already did. He met her before. He played with her once before… she was the princess and he was the prince. She had remembered that moment for years despite it being such a silly memory...

Magda was interrupted by a knock on her door, and Felicity walked in. She looked fairly fine by Magda’s standards. No runny nose, her face wasn't red or pale in the slightest.

“Hey, Magda I- Are...are you drunk?”

“No...just a bit buzzed, and tired.”

“Well, I...I thought you’d want to know that a friend of mine-”

“Ivan?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get to the point I guess. He..wants to see you sometime. He’s not dangerous or anything. He says he knows you.”

“Yeah, we know each other…”

“Alright...just making sure.”

Without another word, Felicity left the room and headed to her own. Worry rising in her mind. Ivan had psyched her out with stories of revolutionaries, and revolts in other kingdoms. How civilians would chop the heads off of nobles and drink their blood to show the world what they were capable of. Even though Felicity’s knowledgeable side, which was tiny but still impressively there, knew those had to be fake. Yeah sure people do crazy things when mad, but not that.

‘Finsel will be fine,’ Felicity thought to herself as she slipped out of her day dress and into her silky nightgown.

‘We haven’t had a war in years’

Felicity fell asleep thinking about everything….

Finsel was NOT prepared…..

[sumwhvtunderrvted]

Can I just say... (2/10/20)

12:21am

Can I just say how fucked up our brains are? Like, really.

I could be writing all of my shit in a journal like a normal person, but here I am doing it online to literally absolutely nobody because in a journal, that’s all private. No one is going to see it. Hopefully. Here, online, there is a possibility of at least ONE person seeing it. And if I can just get ONE person to see my thoughts and how my brain works, then that’s all I need. Or want. Or whatever. They don’t have to understand, I don’t expect them to, but at least someone hears me. Totally neutral. Totally unbiased.

I’m rambling. I apologize. However, I haven’t verbally had a full on conversation with anyone in like, maybe a week. I’ll text here and there, but it’s not vocal. So I’ve been pretty silent out here in the real world.

This feels super dramatic, or extra, but hey... fuck it, right?

I’m still not 100% sure how to use tumblr. I really like it though to get my mind at least .25% organized. 

Recently, I have probably been over thinking everything. My job, my friendships, my relationship, my feelings, my wants, my needs, can you even overthink any of that? APPARENTLY SO cause here I am doing it.

I’m learning that's what anxiety does to you. I’m learning a lot more about anxiety and depression as my adult life goes on. Like, I’ve always known there is different types of depression. Like, medical and whatever terms for the different types. What I DIDN’T know, and am now realizing in myself, the different types of behaviors that depression can make. Let me explain...

The first I recognize is just simply KNOWING you’re depressed. So you just carry on. The usual being “lazy” (which is the lack of motivation and/or energy), sleeping a lot, but also having a lot of trouble actually getting to sleep, waking up but still laying in bed for a significant amount of time because of the lack of motivation/energy.

That then can progresses to being a homebody. Not wanting to go out or do anything no matter if it’s with your favorite people doing your favorite thing. Simply just staying at home by yourself and thinking everyone actually just can’t stand to be around you. Every so often something clicks, and a flood gate of tears explodes. For whatever reason, it just makes me feel worse. And to make it even WORSE, the people around you don’t know what to do, so they ignore it. Please don’t be that person btw. 

Sometimes I notice there is a want to take up bad habits. In my case, it’s smoking and drinking more than usual (I’d like to note I say drinking more than usual because I do work in a bar, so casual and social drinking as well as exploring other bars is a part of my normal life). Also thoughts of running away and disappearing without anybody’s knowledge. Which I know, is very helpful in certain situations. It is probably not helpful in mine.

The most recent one I have noticed in myself, is EVERYTHING I just stated, but along with this, trying to get some part of my life together. Cleaning, organizing, getting rid of things, making to do lists, and just trying to DESPERATELY have just the SMALLEST BIT OF CONTROL in this shit sundae you have of a life.

There is also the motivational part of it, where you just want to do all of the thinks you love to do and excel at them. There is also the opposite, where you don’t want to do any of it because it feels so pointless because you’ll never be good at so why even bother? (part of where I am currently). 

So far for me I think that’s about it. This isn’t really venting, like I assumed I was going to do earlier, but I guess that’s just how the cookie crumbles sometimes. If this so happens to reach someones feed, and this someone happened to reach it this far, I just want to quickly say to this someone, thank you. Thank you for taking time out of your eyes (?) to read my rambling. You might not know it, but it actually means a lot and is really appreciated. I apologize if it’s a lot of bs, cause it probably is, but thank you for reading anyways.

I hope for nothing but the best for everyone. Much love, strangers.

-C

1:04am