#panic attack doodles type beat
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lil yume nikki doodles (featuring dedan)
#i'm spiraling#panic attack doodles type beat#yume nikki#off#off game#madotsuki#o-man#o-man yume nikki#dedan#off dedan#dedan off#madotsuki yume nikki#yume nikki madotsuki#my art#art#digital art#doodle#doodles#barracks settlement#pirori#pirori yume nikki#yume nikki pirori
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I need info on saejun an you obviously know him better than me, so can i have you favorite hcs, theories (how he joined the mtt), or interactions on him w/ the mtt :)
OF COURSE U CAN !! so sorry, it took me a bit to compile all of this from my older notes aaaa have a compensation doodle bc i took SOO long GHGHHHGH
anyway saejun nation pspspspss
saejun !! THE beloved if u will
he regularly speaks korean but learned english after meeting nightmare and killer
i love to think he's very very strong, he can beat the mtt in a fistfight kind of strong (not like he would, but he'd win)
he can cook decently but he'd choose his brother's cooking any day (even if pilsu is still um learning)
he also really likes spicy dishes !! he bonds over that with dust !
he'd forgive ppl who steal from the farm but he wouldn't forgive harming the crops
he HATES pesticides (i think this is canon actually) but also really hates strong smells in general
sleepy 24/7 he lays in the grass to photosynthesize (he just passes out, pilsu wakes him almost every time)
probably knows a lot of offhand herbology/biology trivia (he can explain the aerobic and anaerobic cycle by heart)
his general attitude toward the mtt/bad sanses is not to pry unless they're the ones who open up to him (even now he only rlly learns about their situations through nightmare who doesn't talk that much about it anyway)
he accepts mtt with open arms and its that accepting (almost forgiving) nature that makes them so super attached to him !!
for me, it's the concept of meeting a version of yourself that lives the most peaceful life and being happy for him, but ALSO not being shunned by that alternate version for being violent and hurting the people that you both love
as for how saejun met mtt, my general interpretation of it is that nightmare struck a deal with saejun for food supplies in exchange for manual labour (so mtt and nightmare help a lot with the harvests! the only ones who really know about it is pilsu, saejun, anseung, and suggu)
killer // 고통씨 (Mr. Misery/Grief)
saejun meets killer first and was the only one helping around the farm
i don't think saejun would be the type to pry into their pasts so he doesn't question killer about himself or anything
killer is the one who opens up to him one stormy night after a stage 3 episode where he holed himself up in the shed and saejun found him cold, shaking, and curled up embracing himself
he calms killer down and tells nightmare abt it and that's how he finds out about killer's past (he doesn't bring it up, but he's always there to help killer after his panic attacks)
he likes to do the chores with killer most of the time just in case he has a run in with chorongi or suggu (the kids are very silly and tend to mess with him and he doesn't know how killer is with children)
they photosynthesize together and sometimes nightmare just comes to get killer in the evening and finds them in the grass
horror // 취급주의 (Handle with Care) or 주주씨 (Mr. Vermillion)
he meets horror second (after he gets kidnapped by nightmare) and saejun isn't really scared of him because he figured that he probably has some hidden issues like killer
saejun thought horror was really fragile at first (because he was very thin and had a skull injury) so he actually had him do mostly little chores like going to the market or gathering eggs from the chickens
after a few months killer doesn't come in (was sent to a mission somewhere else) and saejun needs someone to handle the heavy hay bales (<- he could've done it himself but hes lazy) and horror just kinda Does It and surprises saejun
he starts to depend on horror more and actually admits that he was underestimating him out of concern for his wellbeing and horror says its ok because he was also underestimating saejun (until he saw him carry killer AND a bunch of crops home that one time)
they start to cook together and do the heavier chores (while making silly jokes abt killer) together
horror starts to learn korean by talking with dorihye, saejun, and pilsu as well as asking nightmare for some reading material ! (after finding out that dust also speaks korean, he starts practicing conversation with him !)
dust // 유골씨 (Mr. Ashes)
saejun's meeting with dust was noooot planned at all, nightmare just kinda forced mtt into a portal to farmtale during one of errors visits
horror mostly stayed with dust at first who was just dead silent and stayed in one spot (saejun asked if he wanted any drinks and it took ten excruciating seconds before horror had to answer water for him)
its not until pilsu comes into the house and greets killer and horror and makes a remark about a new brother that he starts to actually talk
dust doesn't exactly warm up to pilsu and more like forces himself to because pilsu starts to ask him what his favourite pasttimes are, his favourite food, if he wants any snacks, etc (killer and horror went through the same thing)
dust eventually gets carried off to the kitchen to cook with pilsu and that's how pilsu finds out dust speaks fluent korean even though they have different dialects
saejun goes into the kitchen and has a little talk with dust (where he learns they both speak korean !! and that that's why dust wasn't speaking that much !) and they bond over pilsu's silliness (dust talks about how his papyrus also loved to cook etc etc, saejun notices that its in past tense but doesn't dig any deeper)
dust eventually starts to visit farmtale with horror frequently to exchange makguksu and ramyeon recipes with pilsu !!
dust is also relatively close with dorihye, anseung, and suggu who tend to remark that "the other saejuns dont really talk much" to which horror always chuckles
that's all (for now) !! TYSM FOR ASKING ABT MY BLORBOS BGHGHRGRHG
#farm sans#saejun#saejun park#farmtale#<- because this mostly occurs in farmtale#killer sans#horror sans#murder sans#dust sans#undertale au#murder time trio#bad sanses#sans au#sid rambles#sid answers#i FUCKIGN LOVE SAEJUN PARK FROM HIT UNDERTALE AU FARMTALE BY GUINONGTALE_AU#long post
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9, 19, 22 and 25 for the ask game :)
Well hello there Cal!
9 - what calms you down
I'm a huge asmr gal. Fantasy and fandom rps are the faves, but affirmations and pleasant sounds are in as well. Another thing is getting to talk about my interests, which seems random but isn't actually. When Im having a breakdown or panic attack my mom would sometimes ask 'so what's currently going on in that show you like?' or 'tell me more about that celebrity crush you mentioned!' or 'so what's the next marvel movie we're seeing in cinemas this year?' and urge to answer outweights the anxiety. It grounds me a lot and reminds me about good things in life. Also back rubs and being wrapped real tight either in somebody's arms or blanket when there's no one around
19 - most important thing in your life
Unsure whether thing is supposed to mean something material or if it can be a person or feeling as well?
Probably my loved ones are winning this one. By that I mean parents, sister and friends which I suddenly have for the first time in my life whaat? College is crazy, what do you mean people actually like me here??
TV shows are getting the second place and I know it sounds kinda silly but I just really these types of media with my whole self you know. I love being creative and they give me so much inspiration I don't think I would be able to be happy without them
22th I've just answered in previous ask! You guys really liked that one didn't you?
25 - what's the best personal gift someone could give you?
I love getting drawings from friends, especially drawings connected with the fandoms im in but they're not. It implies two things; one - they paid attention when I talked to them about the thing. two - they cared enough to look it up for drawing references. Also nothing beats seeing my blorbos drawn in someone else's style
Last year for christmas my sister gave me a ninja turtles drawing and even though I for sure knew she'd drawn that the evening before bc she was out of present ideas, it was so sweet regardless! I also got some final space doodles from her at some point, and I carry them in my wallet now
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Soulmate Headcanons with The Big 3 cause why not
(Gn reader) (no warnings) (fluff)
Mirio

Cliche - can hear his soulmate sing
The first time was when he (and y/n) was 5
Y/n was watching the little mermaid for the third time and was like “hey I remember the lyrics to the song so ima sing it too!”
And Mirio, who was eating his lunch at the time with Tamaki, was surprised
“Mom theirs a person in my head should I try to get them out? I don’t wanna though, I like their voice”
And his mom gets so excited (I haven’t reached the flash back scenes so uh yeah) and is like “Mirio that’s your soulmate!”
And he just has a happy grin and is like “Whoa! That’s cool! I wonder when Tamaki will hear his!” And Tamaki is just blushing at the thought
And then in fourth and fifth grade y/n is in choir and he has a love/hate relationship with it
On one hand, he loved hearing his soulmate and having the constant reminder that theres someone out there just for him
On the other hand it got really annoying having to hear them sing the same song over and over again lol
He dealt with it tho
And then comes UA
He has this one classmate…… their REALLY cute……
Low key feels bad for liking someone who (he thinks) isn’t his soulmate
But he doesn’t really think about it much cause he’s busy workin hard hard to be a hero
And then one day he finds this class mate in the dorms commonroom
Singing
And before he finds them he’s like “oh cool soulmate™️ is singing”
And then he walks in the room and at first he’s like “are my ears ringing or something? I hear doubles”
He has just sees y/n sitting there sing it under their breath while studying or something and just
BLUSH
BLUSHING SUNSHINE BOY
And he just plain walks away
After a day or two (where he quickly realized “whoa y/n is actually really amazing” and gets a crush) he just casually goes up to y/n and says “hey can you sing for me for a second? While I walk in the other room?”
And y/n is like “uhhhh sure”
*does that*
Mirio comes running in and is like “YOUR MY SOULMATE!” With the widest grin in the world
And y/n is just so happy as well cause they’ve definitely been crushing on him forever
And their relationship? Most wholesome thing in the world
Cause he’s super caring and stuff he’ll always ask before he does anything at all
“Hey can I hold your hand” “mirio we’ve been together for almost a year” “so can I hold your hand” “*sigh* yes, thanks for being considerate”
Tamaki

Cliche - Red String
As soon as he realized what it’s for he’s just blushing
Sometimes he just looks down at it and blushes
(His parents and Mirio/ Nejire find this to be the funniest thing)
Once y/n flew to Korea to visit family and the string was really tight compared to normal
And Idk about you but I like to think that this can mean two things: their soulmate is more far away then normal or they died
And Tamaki being Tamaki immediately starts think they died
“Tamaki it’s probably fine, their just traveling or something” “y-y-yeah but-but wh-what if if th-their no-not??????”
And then they come back and he just has the three day equivalent of a relived sigh
And then when they move closer to go to UA????
Jesus when the string loosens he just looks down like
O////////////////O “shoot”
And when he sees them in his classroom for third year and the string is so short and then sees them look down
OH YOU BETTER BELIEVE HE DID A MILLION FLIPS TO TRY TO MAKE IT SEEM LIKE THEY WEREN’T HIS SOULMATE
cause he’s a shy baby 👉👈😳
And one time y/n goes up to him and asks to train with him cause “he’s the strongest in the class” (and y/n has a crush on him)
And he just awkwardly nods through the whole thing while y/n is like “where do you wanna meet up? What time?” And then has to have Nejire tell him what they said
And then when they meet up and their like right in front of each other and Tamaki is just STARING at the string as if y/n can’t see it too
“Can you see it?”
Tamaki’s response: O ///////////// O
“So that’s a yes?” *nods* y/n smiles
“That’s nice. Anyways, let’s go start training”
He fidgets with it a lot
He also tugs on it slightly when he wants y/n but their talking to someone else or their working
On a missions when he gets really hurt and goes to the hospital and y/n isn’t with him he’ll tug on it so they know he’s okay
They get a cat when they move in together and once it sat right on the string and Tamaki’s paranoided mind was like “what if we can’t lift it from under him????”
And then y/n had to reminded him that it only affects them two
Whenever Tamaki’s having a panic attack he shakes and trembles and y/n feels it
And then just feeling them running as fast as possible towards him to help
“Y/n where are you going aren’t you on patrol in only half an hour-“
“GOTTA GO TAMA’S PANICKING
Nejire

Cliche - wrist writing
They have knew each other since they were kids, family friends and all
Always knew they were soulmates but still acted like friends till high school when both were finally ready for dating
Every morning one will wake up to a little “good morning honey ❤️”
And all though the day they’ll both doodle on their wrists and some times write little funny things to make the other laugh
It’s like when couples keep each other awake texting till 1am
Once she tried to cook and told y/n and then after half a hour just a wrote “please come to the kitchen help”
Y/N WAS SWEATING
She started a grease fire and was easily put out by Mirio don’t worry ❤️
She’s the type that will get bored and just draw those amazing looking sharpie tattoos
And then she’ll find y/n with them and be like “twins!!!!!!!”
When she was introduced in the show when they visited 1-A?
She gave y/n the wrong time so half way through they wrote “soooooo how’d it go????”
“Oh sorry we’re half way through! Mirios beating them all up :)”
Y/n was concerned
At some point she finds out that it’s not just the wrist but all over their body so one morning she gets a marker and draws little freckles on her face because y/n talks about how they always wanted freckles
She was out shopping and she was like “hey I just found this shirt you would like should I get you it” and when y/n asks what it looks like she draws it instead of bothering to take her phone out and send a pic
Never texts lol
“Why would I text them when I can just write on my arm??????”
Sometimes she’ll pull them by the wrist to drag them somewhere and she does it to herald sometimes and check her wrist and think “on its smuggling that means I’m pulling to hard” and then apologize for ten mou straight
She’s a angel and no one can change my mind
#the big 3#mha#bnha#mha x gender neutral reader#mha x you#mha x y/n#mirio x reader#tamaki x reader#nejire x reader#🥧
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can I request a sunset curve x reggies little sister? Like how they would treat her/help her and Reggie through everything going on with their parents? Do whatever you want with the plot just make it fluffy please!!
TITLE: The Walkman (Sunset curve x reader)
✌🏻Masterlist Taglist, Requests, and Works in progress!
Please check bio to see if requests are open before sending any in! Requests are sent to my ask box or DM’s!
Request: can I request a sunset curve x reggies little sister? Like how they would treat her/help her and Reggie through everything going on with their parents? Do whatever you want with the plot just make it fluffy please!!
Prompt/summary: Reggie and his sister had always been good at avoiding their feelings about their parents, until one day it all comes crashing down.
Word Count: 1,102
Authors note: takes place in 1995! And woahhhh a new imagine? Am I going insane????
WARNING: Mentions of domestic violence and panic attacks. Please read with caution!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reggie and I both dealt with the stress of the catastrophe that is our parents differently.
For Reggie, coping with stress looked like blaring his headphones on a walkman while in his locked room. Hoping the bass line would carry his thoughts away from the house he so desperately wanted out of.
For me, it was grabbing my notebook and riding my bike away from the house to the garage the band always practiced in. As my mind got sucked into the lines and lines of lyrics, poetry, and other writing projects I was working on, the sound of yelling and things breaking flew away to my subconscious.
The boys normally left me alone when they knew things were bad, letting me write out all my feelings into the purple spiral-bound notebook I bought every week at the dollar store.
The papers would litter my folders in my room. I’d sort them into various folders based on what type of project it was. Pink for songs and lyric ideas. Blue for poetry. Green for story ideas. The words never seemed to stop and the notebooks kept piling up in the drawers on my desk. Along with my various books I cycled through during the week. A room without books is like a body without a soul in a way.
Being a year younger than Reggie left me in a weird position with his friends. On one side they tried not to treat me as a little kid, but on the other side it made me feel like I was their little sister too. I’ve never complained, it helped me gain a lot of friends in school. Well, if you could call people who just wanted to talk to you so they could get close to the band ‘friends’.
By the time I got to my junior year in high school I had become an important member of the band, even if I didn't play an instrument. Those lines and lines of lyrics would never get put into full songs if Luke didn't make me haul the giant folder down to the garage once a week (normally the day before I buy a new notebook) to search through the couple hundred pages to find his new inspiration.
Alex would read through some of the story ideas I had written during breaks at practice and give me new ideas to play around with during the next week at school.
Reggie would steal my notebooks and draw or doodle on the sides of the page or in the margins in between the lines. Sometimes they'd be so funny or good I would cut them out and tack them to the cork-board in my room. Bobby would read through my poetry and share some of his own with me. He could be really good if he wanted to, he did it more for the girls he dated though.
Writing was always something I was good at, music not so much.
When we were around people, it was an agreement between me and my brother that we pretend it doesn't bother us that much. That the fighting was just something that happens sometimes and we just shrugged it off if anyone mentioned it.
Until it did start affecting us.
I didn't mean to get in the middle of it. I was just trying to leave to get to band practice because I was already running late. The kitchen was the battle zone today and I ducked my head and tried to walk past the kitchen table without them noticing me. I heard the plate fly through the air before it even hit the wall right in front of my face.
The shards of ceramic seemed to go in slow motion. The impact it had on the ground caused on piece to fly back up and scrape my cheek.
I was out the door before they could even yell at me to stop.
My five minute walk to the garage was a two minute sprint as I ran with both tears and blood streaming down my face.
The cut was right under my cheekbone. With my hand pressed against my face I couldn't tell how big it was but the amount of blood gathering against my palm made me run faster to get to the garage.
The first few seconds after I entered the boys didn't notice my panicked state over the sound of their music. It wasn't until Alex shot up and ran over to me that they noticed the blood dripping down my arm.
Reggie yelled my name as Luke pulled the plug on the amp.
"What happened?" Reggie said as he pressed the flannel that was normally wrapped around his waste against my cheek to stop the blood.
"I- I can't-" I struggled to breathe as I continued to choke on sobs.
"Luke, go get paper towels from the bathroom," Alex yelled and Luke stumbled to the back.
Bobby grabbed a water bottle and wiped off my arms.
"(Y/n) I need you to calm down so you can tell us," Reggie said, I could still see the panicked look in his eyes.
The beating of my heart was almost loud enough to drown him out. So loud I almost didn't notice the sound of music start as Reggie slipped his walkman over my ears and slide my favorite cassette in.
He still held the flannel up to my cheek until Luke returned with the paper towels and a first aid kit.
Slowly my breathing steadied out as Alex ran his hands through my hair and Luke tended to my cheek. The music helped my sync up my breathing. Reggie grabbed my hand and slid the headphones off.
"Please tell me what happened."
"They were fighting again. One of them threw a plate and it hit the wall and flew up to cut me," As I described it my eyes started to well up with tears again. Reggie pulled me into his chest to comfort me as I cried into his shirt.
"You're okay, you're here. Nothings gonna happen to you," Reggie said. I felt Alex's hand on my back rubbing circles into it.
Bobby sighed, "Lets all stay here tonight."
We drug down blankets and pillows from the loft and laid them out all over the garage. Reggie and I took the couch.
He gave me the walkman to listen to as I laid my head in his lap. Finally, after a few hours of watching the boys roughhouse and mess around on Luke's guitar, I finally fell asleep to with the walkman still on.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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#julie and the phantoms#jatp#julie and the phantoms imagine#jatp imagine#jatp reggie#jatp reggie x sister!reader#reggie peters#reggie peters x reader#reggie peters x sister!readers#sunset curve#sunset curve x reader#luke patterson#luke patterson imagine#jatp luke x reader#jatp x reader#jatp luke imagine#jatp alex#jatp alex imagine
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Eccedentesiast
Character: RichyxMC (ambiguous platonic or romantic) Genre: Hurt/Comfort? Friendship/Romance? Unbeta-ed mess is for certain Words: 4,188 Summary: Richy is used to being known to be able to bring a little bit of comical sunshine to everybody’s gloom. He’s just not used to letting anyone know that he’s burning behind that light. But then, you appeared in his life. Potential T/W: mentions of panic attacks A/N: Done in conjunction with the Duskwood Secret Santa event~! Dear @anatomical-myocardium, Merry Christmas to you~! Sorry this took so long to post, I swear my laptop crashes on me at the most inconvenient time sometimes. I hope I did this justice as a gift to you, and I hope you like it, just as I absolutely love your gift to me~! Have a safe and happy Christmas~! ❤️ ❤️
And with a renewed vow to write anything and everything that I want to write without minding if it’s a game, or an anime, or an anime game, or Kpop, here we go~! ❤️ ❤️
------------------------------------
Richy is most known by his friends and all the Duskwood residents for his carefree nature, and he is very much aware of this.
With his small group of friends, he has been the joker of the group longer than memory can serve, always light-hearted with that small touch of dry humor to help liven up the mood. From their weekly battle of Doodle Friends to their catch up session at Aurora’s, all seven of them look to Richy to brighten their days with his quick-witted comebacks and his lame jokes that gets even Lily - ever the serious one - to chuckle.
At his job, his bright personality makes him one of the select few who could talk to Alfie without unnerving the boy, and from greeting old ladies who pass by his shop to chatting away with his customers while he repairs their cars, everyone does not have qualms to admit that Richy’s easy-going nature is his most admirable trait, a warm relaxing ray of sunshine that comes out and give others a bit of cheer on their gloomy days.
Richy knows that his ability to not take things too seriously gives comfort to his friends.
Richy knows this, knows it in the way Jessy thanks him for being there for her when she is frustrated with how Dan is treating her affections, knows it in the way Thomas looks at him silently yet gratefully when he brought them to Aurora’s and filled them with a copious amount of beers and stupid jokes for a self-proclaimed “pity party” after Thomas’ fight with Hannah.
He knows it during the wake of Hannah’s absence when Thomas is on the verge of breaking down, and when Jessy fought with Cleo over how to handle the investigation, Lilly had reached out to him in the middle of the night, quiet words of “I feel like you’re the only one keeping this group together,” mumbled into the phone in between sniffles.
Richy knows he is most known for his easy-going personality, and he is used to it.
He is also used to that horrible feeling of uselessness constantly haunting him in the deep dark solace of his mind. That sinking in his stomach, the heaviness settling in his core as he contemplates whether he has anything worthwhile at all anything good to offer to this world, the constant feeling that he doesn’t have anything at all. It is a dark void spanning the crevasse of his mind that comes up in his solitude, whispering that he is not good enough, that he does not deserve grief and his fear is only going to burden his loved ones.
Because who is he to voice out his sadness and anguish when everybody else has so much on their plate already? Who is he to want to cry at Jessy to look at him, just LOOK AT HIM WHO HAS BEEN THERE FOR YOU when she is heartbroken herself. What right does he have to voice out his grief, his guilt at being the first one to come to Hannah’s house but still unable to save her anyway? What right does he have to say these things, when he only had lost a friend while Thomas lost a girlfriend and Lilly a sister?
What right does he have?
So, Richy does what he does best. He smiles. He jokes. And he hides. He stopped trying to figure out the line inside him where his smile ends and his fear starts. To him, they all bleed together.
Richy is used to being known to be able to bring a little bit of comical sunshine to everybody’s gloom. He’s just not used to letting anyone know that he’s burning behind the light.
------------------------------------
But then, you appeared in his life. You with your contagious kindness, you who are the one person who does not have any personal stakes with Hannah in this investigation but still decided to help out of the sheer good in your heart.
Richy sometimes thought that you were highly naive when you said that them getting your number and bringing you in this group must have meant that there is something that you could do instead of just seeing it as it is; an ominous invitation from an unknown hacker. However, that thought of your naivete is blown out of the water when he witnessed your bright-eyed curiosity and your sharp perception.
‘You like Jessy, don’t you?’ you had texted him out of the blue during one of your conversations when during the first few days after you appeared in their lives.
Richy swore he almost dropped his phone in his coffee when he read your text. No one has ever picked up on his one-sided affections towards Jessy, not even their group, not even Jessy herself who has been his close friend.
He has always been wary of you when Thomas first invited you in. A stranger whose number was given to them by another stranger seemed to Richy like a well-timed disaster waiting to explode in their faces. Richy liked to think of himself as neutral when it comes to matters of your involvement; skeptical enough to not be desperate as Thomas but to the point of hostility that Lilly has shown.
But with your eagle-eyed intuition, Richy realized he had to be extra careful with himself around you.
‘Uh, gotta go. Coffee’s about ready and I need that caffeine injection for my sanity, in case some more shit happens around here, haha,’ he had typed quickly, adding in several emojis in succession for some good measure. He puts the phone face down almost immediately, as if that would help distract him from your reply, and busies himself with work.
‘That’s okay. Coffee sounds like a great idea. The next time you want to subtly avoid having uncomfortable conversations about yourself, I have a list of ideas :D,’ was your reply to him when he checked his phone during his break.
Mirth bubbles up in Richy, a feeling of familiarity and comfort fizzing up in him like downing cold soda on a hot summer day. Richy chuckles towards his phone, seeing as you really did provide him with a list of excuses to make to get out of conversation, each item sillier than the previous one.
Your entrance into his and the way Richy felt you seeing through to him feels like a breath of fresh air.
------------------------------------
‘Richy, hi.’
Richy smiles, looking at his phone vibrated on the countertop as he is pouring his third cup of coffee for the day. Seems like the weekend is as good as any for him to gather his thoughts to himself, to compartmentalize his feelings away from the crowd, but the texts from you over the days is a welcome distraction.
From asking him about Jennifer Manson, to asking him about the phone call he made on the day of Hannah’s disappearance, to random conversation about your favorite movies or music, messages from you have become something he looks forward to daily. He found himself slowly thinking more and more of you; whether you are okay, what you have been doing among other things
‘Now, what more information does my lady seek from me?’ he types quickly, anticipating as the three dots beside your name blinks back at him.
‘Good sir, is it such a crime if I just want to inquire about your day? :(’
Richy would be lying if he said that his heart did not skip a few beats over those words.
‘Our previous conversations would indicate that you always would have things to ask me after you know about how my day went, so out you go. :D’
It feels nice to see you playing along with his jokes.
‘Cleo told me you fought with your dad?’
Ah.
Not information about Hannah’s disappearance then. Which, to him, is much much easier to divulge.
‘That girl is going to get into trouble one day over how much she’s eavesdropping.’
‘I know. But more importantly, are you okay?’
Are you okay? Wow, Richy thinks as he stares at his idle phone. A simple question, but look at how he is struggling to answer. So he quickly typed in.
‘I’m okay, don’t worry, haha. Listen, the cat outside my apartment is literally meowing my window panes down, I better go check up on it before it eats itself,’ Richy began typing his response, as if him staring down the digitized letters will give him some form of epiphany over what the best course of action is.
Excuse #12 from that ridiculous list that you gave him from weeks ago. From feeding non-existent stray cats outside his house to a car needing their tires changed, it quickly became an inside understanding between the two of you that this is a signal that he does not want to talk about it.
But, inside, he wants to talk about it. Wants to talk to you about how this fight is a series of continuous disagreements between him and his father over how to run the family’s garage. Wants to talk about how this garage is not what he envisioned doing in his adult year, that he has no interest whatsoever in running the family’s business. How he had wanted to be a photographer, but was forced to run the garage by his dad to continue the family business.
And how each time his father berates him over the losses their garage suffered due to the new competing garage in town, he feels a slight vendetta to bring up that he is never interested in what happens in this garage but is only doing it for his father.
He has long perfected the art of hiding anything of him that isn’t polished and brightened, so when you picked it up immediately, he felt flustered. Flustered because he doesn’t know what to do when faced with the idea of someone perceptive as you catching his vulnerabilities that he is ashamed of. But, also flustered with the fact that he feels a small sense of comfort that someone took time to notice the small things about him, and that deep inside, he feels some small part of him wanting to reach back out.
For now, he just added a bunch of cheerful emojis for good measure and hits send.
He wants to talk about it. He wants to.
‘You know, I don’t expect you to exhaust that list so quickly. I would have thought it’d be good for at least 2-3 months.’ came your reply.
‘I worry about you, Richy.’
------------------------------------
And it is true, you are worried for him. It has been close to three weeks since you first got added into this strange group, and if truth be told, you would never have thought that you’d be as invested as you are now. You could not deny that Jessy and Richy were two of the friends you never thought that you would care for as much as you did. You know that Jake had warned you over the group, and you ARE a bit more wary of some more than others, but you did not expect your trust to go wholeheartedly to this small trio that you have formed with Jessy and Richy.
Jessy is the sweetest girl you have ever met in the world, always kind. She has this effect around people that made them feel cared for, and you are thankful how she had welcomed you and helped you out when everyone else seems to think you are the kidnapper.She wears her heart on a sleeve, and she trusts easily, but she means well. And Richy…
Richy is an enigma. On surface level, it seems that he is a bright ray of sunshine, all lighthearted jokes and wit, a perfect comedic complement to Jessy’s more emotional tendencies, but you notice the things that made Richy much more complex than he lets on.
You see his calm and composed nature when he is the one to suggest the group to think more critically in the case of your appearance and Hannah’s disappearance, how he calmed everyone down and brought their spirits up. But you also see his aversion to talking about how he himself feels.
Even though he does not show it, you know the incident with Hannah affected him just as much as it had affected everybody else. You see the sprinkle of emotions he has shown, from Jessy who told you how quiet he had been on the day his garage was spray painted with the sign of the raven, to his deprecating jokes about himself when you asked about the phone call he had made to Hannah on the day of her disappearance.
You see that sliver of fear, that glimpse of guilt over those short moments, but come any closer and you could miss it with how subtly and skillfully he averts to more cheerful topics.
But that’s the thing. You worry for him. Jessy goes to the both of you for comfort while Dan goes to Jessy. Lilly has her family, Cleo goes to Thomas and Thomas’s grief is acknowledged and heard by all of them.
But who listens to Richy? Who gives Richy their shoulder for him to grief? Who lift up his spirits the way he does to you? For now, all you can do is put your phone close to your ear, Richy’s number dialing in the background.
‘I worry about you, Richy.’
‘It gets better, I promise you. You don’t have to be alone. I’m here for you,’ you added under your previous text. It goes unanswered and your calls only gets redirected to voicemail. So all you can do is hold your phone close to you, placing your lips on its receiver, only able to hope that it goes to him, that his cheeks or his forehead feels the warmth as a sign that you are here for him.
Miles away, in Duskwood, Richy only stares in his phone longingly, wanting to call you.
‘I’m here for you.’ your text that had him feeling hopeful, comforted and flustered him all the same.
It has been a long time since someone sees through him so transparently, heck, the void in him has bled together with his façade so much that even he himself cannot see through the layers of sunshine to where his dark insecurities start. He has crafted so many walls, perfected so many smiles that it even fooled Jessy, the person most close to him here in Duskwood. Perhaps at some point, maybe he even fooled himself.
And yet, here you are. Effortlessly breaking through those walls like it’s paper, unblinded by the fake shine he puts on, and sees the darkness in him for what it is. He has to laugh at that as he leaned his forehead on his phone, somehow feeling a sense of comfort just in doing that. What have you done to him?
Perhaps one day he can begin to talk about it.
------------------------------------
That day came sooner that he thought it would be. That night in December, it snowed heavily in Duskwood. Angry snow fell down in a furious blizzard, gusts of wind wailing outside in anguish, doors and window panes shaking almost in fear. Sometimes, the wailing picks up speed and bangs on the window with a scream.
Inside, Richy is just as furious, just as anguished as the blizzard outside. The man without a face seems hell-bent in getting them to stop finding Hannah and to obtain your location. Richy would bend over backwards and go to hell twice before letting your location fall in its hands. And with the search not showing any signs of stopping, so did the threats to them.
Today, it took the threat to another level when it involved their families as well. Richy had woken up with a call from his father. He had expected the call to be his father picking up another fight with him, but the urgency in his father’s voice and the manic sobbing of his mother in the background struck a cold chord in him.
It turned out that his family house has been vandalized with the signs of the raven, only this time it is worse than the one did in the garage. The windows were splashed with red paint, with papers jammed in their mailbox full of threatening letters of ‘give me her’ and ‘Richy, you’re next’. It took him a good two hours to scrub the windows clean, and then another hour to comfort his mother that this is just a prank pulled by some reckless vandals, to clean up the papers from the mailbox and throw them in the trash.
But, deep inside he knows it. This is not a prank. This is a threat to him. To them.
Duskwood is a small town. People will talk and come tomorrow, his friends will find out. He needs time. He needs time to sort out his thoughts. Time to properly compartmentalize.
He needs time to sort out through his guilt of not being able to protect his family from being terrorized from the man without a face. There is the fury with the fact that it has been established that the man without a face is someone within their circle, given how much they know about your presence.
He needs time.
There is the fear that you, being the lynch pin to all that the man without a face wanted from them, will be burdened more. He needs time to sort through the fear that he could not protect you, and even though it is for the best interest of your safety that none of them knows where you are, you are still all alone having to pick up after these seven dysfunctional people and no one to protect you.
Then, there is the confusion, the stress, the angry sadness that this is a game that he has to continue to play with his friends. The betrayal that one of them, one of his close friends is responsible for this, that they could have the balls to laugh with him, smile with him and turn around and do this to him.
He needs time to sort through this anger and he doesn’t have the courage to face them and continue playing this game tomorrow, not when all he wanted to do is lash out at each one of them and threaten them and ohgodheneedstimeheneedstime--
In the solace of his room in his family home, Richy feels his thoughts become as white as the blizzard of snow outside. He hears his breath quickens, a voiceless wail stuck in his throat and he feels the shivers in his spine like the doors trembling in front of the wind.
Heneedstimeohgodpleasegivehimabitoftime----
And like a lifeline, his phone besides him rang and vibrated and he clutched it to him like a lifeline. Like a miracle in December, he sees that it’s your name. Somewhere in his blank white thoughts, he hears a small chuckle and how impeccable your timing is.
He answers and your voice in his ears sounded like a buoy thrown to him that is flailing about.
“Richy, I had a bad feeling about something. Is everyone okay?” and Richy hears himself laugh at that, a horrible mixture of a broken laugh and a hiccup and a helpless wail, all mixed up to become a horrible wounded noise.
Over on your side of the phone, your heart picked up pace when you heard that choked laughter from Richy. It is horrible and it is scary and you would never want to hear it from anyone again, least of all not Richy. He is having a panic attack.
“Richy, are you okay?! Richy, listen to me. Breathe with me, sweetheart. Breathe in, breathe out,” deep inside you tried to stay calm because that is what he needs, but even you feel like being on the verge of tears listening to this man - who has cheered you up so much - break down in front of you.
After he seemed to have calmed down, you tried again.
“Richy, what’s wrong? Please talk to me. You deserve to not be alone in this Richy. I see you. I see you smiling to get everyone to smile. You listened to me and you lifted up my mood when Jessy was attacked, and when I received threats over Lilly’s video. Let me do the same to you, yeah? Tell me what’s wrong?”
And to Richy, who has clutched onto your voice like a lifeline, who wants to share everything with you, just burst like a dam. Everything that he has kept secret from his friends, the sadness behind his smile, everything that he has even kept from himself and just swept under the rug and pushed into a closet at the back of his mind. Everything burst right there in front of you, from his guilt to not being able to stop Hannah’s kidnapping and Jessy’s attack, to him feeling unworthy of being sad compared to others, to his fear when he saw the sign of the raven in his garage and now on his home, his fury at knowing one of his friends are doing this, to his fear for Jessy, his fear for you.
He hated everything. He hated himself.
You told him that he is strong, that you admired him so much, but he needs to see that he deserves to be comforted just as much as he has comforted everyone else.
In that snowstorm-clad night, the winds wept and wept, but beneath its howl, you can hear the intermittent wail of a broken man as Richy cried, and cried, and cried.
As he lets out everything, the blank white fog of his mind begins to clear and gain color. It started from the reds of fury, to the blacks of fear and the blues of guilt, but then your voice came in, and slowly the pinks of comfort, the yellows of hope and the purples of peace began melting through.
------------------------------------
[EPILOGUE]
Both you and Richy sat over the phone for over 3 hours just talking about nothing and everything after his outburst.
He seems to have gained his color back, his cheerful self almost back as he cracked his lame stories about gangster seagulls eating his sandwich once in his travels. Richy feels like this time, his color - albeit still a little faded - is much more genuine than the blacks filtered from a rose-colored glass that he has shown before. Your laughter as you listen to his story and object to its credibility, slowly made those faded colors in his mind more vibrant.
“Thank you for listening to me, for um… taking care of me,” he begins a bit meekly after he finishes his story. He’s not so used to being listened to, not at this vulnerable a level and definitely he is not used to being taken care of.
“You did the same to me when Jessy was attacked. And you would have done the same for me again, I’m sure of it,” your voice sounded like a smile would, and God, would he give up everything to see that smile in person. He laughs to himself internally. How has this person made him so whipped for her in such a manner?
“I’m planning on going to Duskwood soon,” you had said out of the blue, bringing him back from his reverie.
“Absolutely not. In case you forgot my magnificent show of tears just now, the man without a face is threatening us to get to you. You coming here is the absolute worst thing to do,” Richy snorted, a mock indignant and wounded tone from him that made you chuckle.
“Well, how bad can it be? If we keep my arrival a secret from the rest of them, and spend the days, just you, me and Jessy, it wouldn’t hurt, would it? Someone needs to go there and give you a hug and take care of you,” you had replied back shortly, almost giving no thought to what you had said.
“Oh my, my lady, are you flirting with me?” Richy’s exaggerated gasp brought you back to reality, and his implication had your heart skipping beats.
“Well I mean… um…” you stuttered, and Richy swore your hesitance and stuttering made his heart soar just a little bit more in hope. But pursuing it is for another time.
“W-Well, someone needs to stop you from being such an eccedentesiast!” you had blurted out, extremely grateful that the distance makes it unable for him to see your bright red hot face.
His laughter after that sounds like the most genuine you have heard from him so far, and he might have said something along the lines of “nooo use small words, your idiot here doesn’t understand what that means,” but you couldn’t remember clearly. All you remembered was you thinking that you would give almost anything to protect that genuine tinkling laughter of his.
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A Heavy Battle Symphony Chapter 5
Catch up here >> AHBS Masterlist
TW: language, mental abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse, violence, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, self harm, self-esteem issues, sexual abuse (only alluded to briefly in future chapters), just a lot of trauma, angst, smut - lots of lovely gay smut
Chapter 5 - With You
When things go wrong I pretend that the past isn't real
Now I'm trapped in this memory
And I'm left in the wake of the mistake, slow to react
So even though you're close to me
You're still so distant and I can't bring you back
"What the fuck is that?"
He was sitting at the breakfast table doing homework, after he had completed his chores when his aunt and Perrington had walked through the front door. Wearing one of the only t-shirts he owned and a pair of shorts, he sighed before looking up at his aunt.
"What is what?" he said, running his hand through his hair. Though, he knew what she was talking about. Why hadn't he kept his hoodie on? Not that that would have helped, the drawings covered his hand too.
She grabbed his arm and forcefully pulled on it. Lorcan let out a hiss. "What bullshit is all over your cast! That cost good money-" she froze. Understanding dawned on her face, eyebrows shooting up. "Oh. Did you find some people to pity you?" Her words dripped with poison. "You know you're worthless, right? No one could ever love you. You are a bastard born, half breed. Your own mother deserted you!"
"She died!" Lorcan yelled. That was too far and she knew it, but she didn’t stop there.
"She killed herself to get away from you, you ugly half-breed."
Lorcan never wanted to believe that. Never. Not that he was an ugly biracial kid, but that his mother killed herself. Why would she want to kill herself when she had him? Or maybe it was his fault. Maybe he drove her crazy enough to take her own life. Maybe...
Maeve just laughed smugly, cutting off Lorcan’s thoughts as she walked down the hall to her room and came back with a bottle of what looked like alcohol and a towel.
"Arm." He reluctantly held his casted arm out to her as she sat in the chair next to him. She started cleaning the metallic ink away. She wasn't gentle. He clenched his jaw and focused on his breathing.
Lorcan had to admit it was a good plan to get the people who were starting to befriend him, to turn their backs instead. Yet another way to break him down. They weren’t friends anyway, why would they care that their mark on him was gone.
The whole time Maeve was scrubbing his arm, Lorcan couldn't stop thinking about how he wasn't good enough for anyone. Not for his mother and definitely not Rowan. He didn't deserve the sparkle that twinkled in those green eyes when they looked at him. Why would Rowan even look at him like that? He was an ugly, bastard born half-breed after all. Too skinny, awkwardly tall, dark olive skin, black eyes.
His vision was blurry from the tears he wouldn't let fall. He couldn't let his aunt see his weakness.
"There," Maeve cooed. "All better." She looked at him with a sick sense of joviality. "Now go to your room." The way Maeve's voice went from saccharin to steel nearly gave Lorcan whiplash. He quickly went to his room after gathering his things and gently closed the door.
Lorcan closed his eyes and tears leaked out. He wiped them away. Why was he so emotional about this? He never got this emotional about anything. Fuck, he hated Orynth.
His cast was a mess now. Some of the designs were smeared beyond recognition, others completely gone. Maeve destroyed it, like she destroys everything. Elide's trees, gone. Rowan's line doodle was smudged into a big blob, but the 'Ro' of Rowan was still faintly visible. Somehow, that made Lorcan feel worse. Why were there so many emotions he didn’t know the names of when Rowan flitted through his mind?
He dug into his sleeping bag, grabbed his journal, pulled a razor blade out of the spine, and went to the bathroom with his pajamas and razor blade. Lorcan's thoughts were a jumble of negativity, he couldn't sort through them so he just pressed the blade to his forearm, dragging through other scars, deeper than he usually did. He grit his teeth through the pain. Lorcan deserved it. He was an unloved, unwanted mixed race bastard. And he was way too fucking emotional.
After letting his blood drip in the sink until he started getting a little lightheaded, he cleaned himself up, and then changed. His torso still covered in an ever changing modern art painting. He thought that maybe Jackson Pollock would be proud to have a painting that looked like his bruises. Lorcan just huffed a laugh at his sick humor.
Back in his room, he wrote in his journal, recording the worst beating of his life and the following days. Including how stupid he was today, to let Elide's smile cause him such grief once his aunt saw the product of his stupidity.
++++
"Mom, he has a cast!" Rowan was so exasperated. He threw his arms in the air.
Rowan's mom knew he was concerned. He had told her about the bruises he saw on the black haired boy's neck.
After dinner, Rowan went up to his room, pulled out his laptop and decided to video call with the group. He just wanted to think of something besides the pain that filled those onyx eyes that were staring at him throughout lunch.
His friend's only helped a little. They were mostly talking about their homework. Elide read one of her new stories for creative writing. Rowan wanted to ask her if she had read any of Lorcan's work, but he didn't feel comfortable asking in front of everyone. So, he didn't.
---
Lorcan woke up at 5am. He checked the gauze on his arm, it hurt. There was blood staining the gauze. I guess that's what happens when you cut deeper. After redoing his bandage and making sure his blade was secured in the spine of his journal, he threw said journal in his newly repaired backpack that broke last night after he was trying to put his schoolwork away. For some reason, he just didn't feel like his journal was safe being left in the apartment anymore.
After dressing and making breakfast for the despicable adults of the house, Lorcan left for school. He left earlier than usual and decided to walk through the park that was between the apartment and the school. Lorcan's hood was down, his man bun was messy, some of his wispy hairs falling in his face, his hands were stuffed in his hoodie pocket. The rain puddles he walked through leaked into his shoes and soaked into the frayed hem of his jeans. Despite having wet feet, it was a nice morning. Except for the undefinable tightness in his chest and the pain in his arm that he tried to ignore.
Lorcan walked one of the winding paths beneath the trees and noticed that some of the greens matched the color of Rowan's eyes. He shouldn't be thinking of those types of things. Never having had a crush before, he didn't understand what and why he kept comparing things back to Rowan or how his stomach would flip when the other boy flitted through his thoughts.
From behind, he heard laughter from multiple people. He switched paths and started walking faster. The laughter was familiar and he had a feeling it was Elide's and Rowan's friend group. Today, he would do his best to avoid them.
++++
Rowan noticed Lorcan ahead of them on the path and then saw him veer away and speed up. When they were about to pass the way Lorcan had gone, he made a decision.
"Hey, I'll meet you all at school." He didn't wait for an answer or reply to the questioning. They knew he was crushing on the new kid.
Rowan was on a mission. Half jogging to catch up with the long strides of his crush, he finally caught up with him.
"Lorcan!"
Gods above, he started going faster.
"Lorcan, please." He stopped suddenly and Rowan jogged a couple paces past him and turned around.
Lorcan's expression was hard, his eyes blank. They were nothing like they had been yesterday when they were almost hopeful. Today they were dull and vacant, it gave Rowan an uneasy feeling.
"Um, hi. I just thought-"
"You thought wrong." And started his swift pace past Rowan.
"But-" Rowan sighed and just did his best to keep up with Lorcan.
He really needed to work on his cardio, he was a bit winded when they got to the school. Lorcan disappeared into the throng of high schoolers. "Fuck," breathed Rowan.
All Rowan wanted was to be friendly with Lorcan. He was sad and frustrated when someone touched his shoulder.
"I'm sure he'll come around someday," Elide said with a knowing look.
"I just.." Rowan didn't know what he was saying.
"I know. Let's go to class." Elide looped her arm through his and they set off for History of Erilea.
---
Lorcan was sent to the library again for his P.E. class. He sat in a secluded corner, hoping Elide wouldn't find him. She didn't. Thank Hellas.
Pulling out his journal, he decided to write about Rowan, about how he didn't deserve a friend in Rowan. It was strange for him to use this journal for something other than an abuse record. Although, maybe this was a different sort of torture, a personal one. He couldn't have friends, and he definitely couldn't have anything more. They would likely be moving in a month or two anyway.
But Lorcan kept going back to how it felt when Rowan had touched his hand. There were butterflies in his stomach every time he thought about it. Did he really have a crush on this guy? For his whole life, he has done his best to keep the world out and now, somehow his walls were cracking. He was desperately trying to fill those cracks back in, he couldn't break now. He wouldn’t let his walls fall for some pretty boy.
The bell rang for lunch, he was starving, but he wanted to be alone in the quiet. He decided to eat quickly and then come back.
That didn't work out so well.
After sitting at the empty table in the corner and shoving food in his face, the silver haired boy sat across from him. He didn't say anything, he just ate. Lorcan just stared at him, food half raised to his mouth. Realizing Rowan wasn't going to say anything, he continued to eat.
His food was gone and now he didn't really want to go back to the library. Somehow it was comfortable sitting here with Rowan, so he just got out some of his homework instead. It really would be best to go back to the library.
++++
Yes! It was working!
Elide had suggested to Rowan that maybe he should sit with Lorcan at lunch and just be quiet. So he did and Lorcan didn't snap or run away. It was progress!
Rowan felt elated at this, especially when it looked like Lorcan was going to leave, then decided to stay. He did his best to hide his smile. But gods above, he was excited. He texted Elide.
RoRo: it's working!
Ellie: That's because I'm amazing! Haha!
RoRo: omg elide
Ellie: I'm happy it's working, Rowan. I really am. :)
Rowan looked up to see Lorcan lost in thought with his pencil down his cast. It probably itched like crazy. But then, he saw it or lack of it. All the doodle marks were nearly gone. Tears pricked his eyes, and his throat tightened. Was yesterday some sort of joke? Gods, he was stupid.
RoRo: he cleaned his cast off…
Ellie: What? Seriously?
He couldn't sit there anymore. Rowan angrily grabbed his stuff and went back to his usual table with his friends. He just hoped that Lorcan didn't see the tears that fell down his cheeks. It was embarrassing how emotional he could be sometimes.
Fen saw Rowan coming over, he was wiping his face, "You're sure he cleaned his cast off? I didn't even know you could do that without compromising its durability."
"There's smudged Sharpie over the part I could see," he said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
Everyone frowned. Aelin threw her arms around him. "He's just an asshole."
---
Lorcan had wondered how long it would take for Rowan to get fed up with him and leave. But he wasn't expecting to see him crying as he left.
He felt like shit. Looking at the exposed cast, he saw Rowan's faded and smudged doodle. Fucking Hellas. This day has turned to complete and utter shit and needed to end.
Thankfully, the rest of the day went by quickly. Elide had ignored him in creative writing. Obviously, Rowan had told everyone. This was probably for the best anyway.
____
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The High Fidelity Remake is Good and my Identity is Irreversibly Linked to Music Consumption
Hi! So, I’m kinda insane about playlists.
This year I’ve made a lot of them. They’ve been short and snappy on index cards, scanned and pasted in a book and uploaded to the internet. (I’ve really fallen in love with index card playlists and they’re my thing now and I think everyone should do them always and forever.) They were easy to churn out as a retrospective exercise because the music I listened to as a teenager really defined my high school experience. Also, I have most of my favorite songs from that period in a very dramatic playlist I started in 2014 so it was really a game of copy-and-paste.
Making these smol boys in batches has been a really peculiar experience because for years now, I’ve only made one playlist at a time. In my second semester of college, I’d officially burned myself out listening to only CHVRCHES for three months and began venturing elsewhere. (Don’t get me wrong, CHVRCHES absolutely bangs, but you can only listen to “Never Ending Circles” so many times before getting seasick.) All of the random songs I was listening to made me feel kinda hazy and purple, like I’d done all of this before. So I made a playlist full of them and called it “Deja Vu.”
I added to it all semester, and then suddenly it was summer and I didn’t feel purple and hazy anymore—everything was blue and crisp on the way to South Haven as my friend blasted “Settle Down” by Kimbra in her beat-up Honda. So I started a new playlist and named it the first word that popped into my head: “Roots.”
Using Deja Vu as a rubric, I developed some ground rules for the playlists I would go on to create. They are pretty nonsensical but also exceedingly firm because if I don’t make rules for every area of my life I feel like I’m falling into a deep and limitless void. Health! Anyway, the rules are:
The playlist’s title has to be a short noun (seven letters maximum).
This has since transformed into a noun that is also a verb.
To generate a title, I ask myself what short word I would use to describe the phase of life I’m currently in. The answer comes quickly and reflexively, and I choose the very first word I think of.
One song per artist, no repeats!
Exceptions are made for artists who are featured on a track.
There have been times when I’ve obsessively listened to a whole album or an artist’s entire discography, so I have to choose just one song that represents the very best of that album or artist.
Tracks are added chronologically, based on when I first hear them and/or start listening to them compulsively.
The playlist has to contain an amount of tracks that is divisible by five.
If a song in a playlist is deleted from Spotify, I have to find a replacement asap that is accurate to what I was listening to when that playlist was being created.
and, most importantly,
I can’t make a new playlist until I feel I’m finished with the current one.
These playlists represent seasons of my life, cycles in which I change and evolve and stagnate and fuck up and try again. The only rule I have for beginning a new playlist is that I feel done with the current one—those songs are a little stale and don’t represent me anymore. These “seasons” don’t have any set length, and I can never predict when I’ll feel like a new being who needs new songs to define her. So far, my life has looked like this:
Deja Vu - 176 days (12.03.16 - 05.28.17) Most common lyrics: now, love, time, need, take
snow that covers ivy that covers bricks, towers made from dining hall dishes, smiling at the bus stop without knowing, sheet masks in the dorm bathroom at 2am, pink string lights and pink crocheted blankets and pink shag carpeting, cheap beer behind tarps and walking everyone home
Roots - 111 days (05.28.17 - 09.16.17) Most common lyrics: love, one, give, wanna, know
t-shirt tan lines, mozzarella and tomato and basil and singed spaghetti, sunset walks around abandoned high schools, green leaves outlined in watercolor, the smell of mildew and old paper in banker’s boxes, sweat-soaked french braids, the knife twist of eye contact, tarot readings under lamplight
Walls - 110 days (09.16.17 - 01.04.18) Most common lyrics: wanna, know, baby, take, feel
crying in the gender-neutral restroom, pretty boys holding guitars or rolling rock, photos in the forest, blue carpeting and lofted bedframes, pitch-black bonfires, sitting in the dining hall to just watch the people pass, snow on eyelashes in large wet clumps, laughing at lies
Bite - 78 days (01.04.18 - 03.23.18) Most common lyrics: know, love, stay, come, need
impatience at the airport, texting on the laundry room floor, nervous night drives, five grilled cheese sandwiches, acne like freckles, ceiling photos taken in secret, watercolor lines and paper houses, broken glass on the sidewalk, ink-stained forearms, notebook paper comics, writing small on basement walls
Windows - 131 days (03.23.18 - 08.01.18) Most common lyrics: love, now, know, baby, fall
books piled up by the bed, rum and coke and orange juice and vodka and cheap white wine, rainy day night walks, streetlights turning the leaves orange, echoes from the party upstairs, solo trips to the grocery store, always leaving the blinds open, aperol and chai lattes and smørrebrød, never coming home
Grip - 136 days (08.01.18 - 12.15.18) Most common lyrics: know, boy, lost, girl, night
read receipts, the creaking of an empty house, sand and bricks and traffic cones, sitting on the curb and shaking, applause at dinner, bubble tea, bike rides in torn jeans, mr brightside blasting at 10am, doodles during lectures, embroidery at the kitchen table, blue bus panic attacks, half an apple for lunch
Wait - 117 days (12.15.18 - 04.11.19) Most common lyrics: heart, want, one, back, know
crying in the lobby, measuring oats by the quarter cup, drunken voice memos, shoes on power lines, another bowl of granola, reading all the lyrics, photos taken with the flash on, sleeping on strange couches, shoeboxes full of photographs, wire catching the sunlight, fifteen minutes of windchill
Wave - 108 days (04.11.19 - 07.28.19) Most common lyrics: wanna, know, now, love, come
dancing on the porch, reading on the roof, tipsy trips to the corner store, silent heavy parlor air, chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting, barred windows and string lights and exit signs, highlighting the important parts, nails tapping on wooden tables, wet wind before the storm, biking straight into the smoke
Home - 178 days (07.28.19 - 01.22.20) Most common lyrics: down, know, now, wanna, think
steep downhill walks, fingertips covered in graphite and lead, blank faces on green walls, forest walkways, hands gripping thighs too tightly, light leaks in darkrooms, the handwriting of strangers, chains trapped between teeth, white words left unread, twirling at the tennis court, yellow becoming blue
Hand - 63 days (01.22.20 - 03.25.20) Most common lyrics: know, time, love, die, back
masking tape messages, laughing four shots in, BiC .07mm HB mechanical pencils slipped into coat cuffs, cheeks blushed with red ink, green floodlights and kissed knuckles, windows fogged from the inside, falling asleep with earbuds in, finger guns and everything in boxes, wedging open locked doors
_______________________________________________________________________
It’s interesting to look back at these playlists altogether, see them as self-contained units, little stories I tell about myself, about the people I used to be. Adding a song to one of these playlists was like making a vow, entering a relationship with a collection of sounds. It’s like I was saying “this song is now a part of me.” I constructed this little world for myself in the space between my ears, and it, in turn, created me.
I really mean it when I say that the first word that floats to the front of my mind becomes the title of whatever playlist I’m making. I never question what the word means, and its meaning always ends up describing that season of my life.
“Roots” became a period of reconnecting with essential pieces of myself I thought I had abandoned.
During “Grip,” I was holding on so tightly to things that had left me ages ago, and I think I knew that, even if I was unable to admit it to myself.
“Wait” revealed itself in two ways: it was a time in which 1.) I felt stagnant and restless, unable to be patient, and 2.) I was forced to grasp with a physical and emotional weight that had been bearing down on me.
The mind is a magical thing—it processes what we refuse to recognize.
Speaking of which, these playlist covers have been driving me up the wall for ages. They’re like nails on a freaking chalkboard for my synesthesia. Is “Bite” a heavily blue playlist? Sure. But is “Home” purple? Is “Grip” pink??? I think the fuck not!
(I could do a whole goddamn blog post on synesthesia, and I might.)
Now that I know how to switch out playlist cover art (can you believe it’s taken me this long to figure out how to do that?), I have decided to issue myself a challenge/project/way to procrastinate actual work I have to do.
I’d like to make a piece of cover art for all of the above playlists. And because I am, to reiterate, insane, I’m setting up some Rules For Creation:
All works must be the same size, on the same type of paper using similar materials (tbd but probably graphite, colored pencil, watercolor, fineliners, and/or collage).
The preliminary sketch for each cover must be created while listening to the playlist.
Each piece can (must?) incorporate the five most common lyrics as listed above because goddammit I did not spend four hours compiling lyrics in a web-based word cloud generator for nothing.
If I’m not having fun, I won’t make myself do it because this is literally just for laffs.
Anyway, I’m looking forward to creating some fun weird art! I know nobody is gonna read this and nobody is gonna comment but if, by some miracle, you feel like it, comment a playlist you’ve made that you’re really proud of! Or comment if you have some weird playlist rules! Or cyberbully me! Anything’s fair game.
TL;DR playlists are fun and I’m a maniac :)
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Sunset
Part of the “Illuminated” AU
Parings: Prinxiety Characters: Virgil, Roman Supporting cast: Patton, Logan, Thomas Chapter warnings: self-depreciating thoughts, implied mentions of suicide, panic attacks, cursing (one word), lots of hurt/comfort, and fluff Word Count: 4970
Summary:
Virgil never knew what he’d say to upset his soulmates. It was inevitable. After passing up Patton’s suggestion they go to the beach, he upsets someone else he hadn’t expected to in the end.
But perhaps, not all endings are bad. After all, every day ends in a sunset, and it’s regarded as one of the most beautiful things in the world.
Author’s note:
A fic I started working on when @v-doodles mentioned they were sick. I hope this meets your expectations, sweetie. It was hard not to share until it was 100% finished <3
That being said, I hope you enjoy... some not so depressing additions to the AU :D
It’s not that Virgil hated the beach. He loved the relaxing patterns of the waves, the gentle call of seagulls, the smell of salt, and how he could ponder his own small existence while staring off into the horizon. It was something he did to relax. At night, when he needed a break from all the city life, he walked to the beach and watched the sunset.
However, when Patton suggested they all go, Virgil’s heart beat out of his chest. The thought of his body out for all of them to see, how unnaturally it bent like abused metal, sent shivers up his spine.
True, he could wear his jacket and sit on the beach. No one said he had to play in the water, and Patton would never make him, but his other three soulmates would all be off enjoying themselves, and he’d be left alone in the sand.
That honestly didn’t sound too bad either. He could protect them better if he kept an eye on them from a distance. Besides, their stuff was less likely to get stolen if someone sat beside them, and he could avoid a sunburn under an umbrella since his skin liked to burn as soon as he stepped out into the sun.
What scared him most were the questions they’d give him. Why didn’t he want to go? Was he ashamed of his soulmark? Did he secretly hate them all? Well, those were more like questions that ran through his head, but he was sure they’d think them as well.
“Perhaps another time, padre.”
Virgil’s head snapped up as Roman expressed his displeasure. Roman’s smile missed his eyes, and Virgil noted the slacked shoulders, the slightly off posture, and the stiffness of his throat.
“Oh,” came Patton’s soft voice, “that’s okay. We don’t have to if you’re busy.”
“I’d love to, but-” Roman started and looked away. “Yes, maybe another day.”
Welp, now both of his soulmates were sad, and Virgil had half a mind to tell Patton he’d go with just to keep him company. However, before he could say anything, Patton mentioned he needed to get to work and hurried out.
Welp, Remy would be in to complain about that later.
The wall holding Roman’s confidence crumbled. His smile disappeared, and he took a drink from his coffee to distract the tears coating his waterline.
Mustering up enough strength for support, Virgil asked, “Ro, you okay?”
“Hmm?” Roman peeked over his coffee cup at him. An innocent bat of his eyelashes followed soon after, and Virgil noticed his eyelashes weren’t clumped with mascara.
“You don’t have to play dumb with me, Princey,” Virgil continued.
Roman pushed his cup away from his lips with a heavy sigh. He turned his back on Virgil and walked towards the coffee bar table to return it.
Virgil grabbed onto his wrist. The action stiffened both of their postures.
“Virgil,” Roman warned. “Let it go.”
Roman’s voice shook Virgil to his core. Virgil swallowed and removed his hand from Roman’s wrist. Roman muttered a curt “thanks” under his breath and refused to look at him. Thomas perked an eyebrow from behind the counter, but a quick glance at Virgil stopped him from saying anything.
Virgil wanted to apologize. He was certain Roman’s words weren’t just aimed at Virgi’s touch. Instead, he shrunk into his hoodie and stared down at the floor.
“I know you have questions,” Roman muttered. He blew a heavy breath through his lips. “It’s… I’m just-”
“You don’t need to justify anything to me,” Virgil replied.
Roman’s chirp of a laugh answered for him. He thanked Thomas for the coffee and pushed past Virgil. The latter watched him turn the corner and wipe tears from his eyes.
Thomas hummed before setting the coffee cup in the dishwasher.
“Well, that went well,” Virgil grumbled. How did he manage to screw up both conversations so badly? He shouldn’t be surprised, really.
“They’re both emotional people. Give them some space,” Thomas reminded.
Virgil nodded and ended his break early. The entire time, his mind drifted to his two soulmates, and he hoped they were at least taking care of themselves.
The afternoon rush started to pour in with Virgil’s nerves. What if they now hated him? Would they hold it against him? Would they push him away? Thomas distracted him with an order, and Virgil’s hands quivered the entire time. Of course they hated him. Why else would they leave like that?
Virgil’s mind raced. His heartbeat sped up. That haunting cold sweat coated his brow, and he hunched into his hoodie. Breathe. Breathe! You can’t have one here, not now. Thomas is counting on you.
But here he was, spiraling downward at work, and he couldn’t push the negative thoughts away.
“Virgil, can I have-”
“Ledge.”
Thomas’s posture stiffened, and he took the coffee from Virgil’s hands.
“Go take a break, Virge. I can handle it from here.”
Virgil tried to glance over his shoulder at the sea of people waiting for their order, but Thomas lead him to the break room before he had the chance. Once inside, Virgil collapsed into the couch and swallowed air like water.
Virgil tried everything to calm his nerves. Playing the anxiety app on his phone was impossible, and turning on comforting music somehow made it worse. Nothing shook the thoughts from his head. He needed help.
Thomas couldn’t help him out of this one, and Logan was in the middle of balancing the budget. Emile was in a session, and Patton and Roman were who knows how far away
What was he supposed to calm down with?
Virgil took his phone out and stared at the screen. Logan told him he’d help. He was always a text away. It was okay. He wanted to help. It was okay.
Virgil texted a quick “ledge” on the screen and hit send. He hoped Logan would understand the message; he couldn’t think straight enough to type anything else.
Now he waited.
Virgil curled his legs up to his chest and rested his forehead on his knees. Breathe. Keep breathing. In four. Hold eight. Out seven. His heartbeat shook his whole body.
It wasn’t long before a knock sounded on the break room door.
“Virgil, are you alright?”
“No,” he managed to breathe out.
“I’m coming in.”
The door squeaked, but Virgil’s head refused to look up. Soft, rhythmic footsteps crescendoed toward him, and the other seat on the couch dipped down.
“May I touch you?”
Virgil nodded his head. Logan’s grounding hand on his back sent shivers through his body. He wasn’t alone. Logan was here and he cared. He wasn’t alone.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
Before Virgil could answer, his phone lit up with a text message. Logan stared down at the phone, noting “Princey” written on the screen with a meme from one of his movies as the profile picture. Virgil’s head perked up, and the sight of Roman’s name sent him deeper in his mind.
“I see,” Logan muttered. “Did Roman cause this?”
Virgil paused before nodding his head.
“Is he okay?”
Again, Virgil paused. He took a deep breath before shrugging his shoulders.
“You are worried about him?”
Virgil hesitated and tried to speak, “I-” Virgil’s voice cracked- “yes.”
Logan made a noise of affirmation and held Virgil’s phone in his hand. “Would you like to talk to him, or would you like me to talk to him for you?”
Virgil’s head sprung up, and he grabbed his phone. Logan handed it over, and Virgil noted the text waiting for him. Should he read it? What if it said Roman didn’t want to be near him anymore? His hands shook as his breathing shallowed.
“I am here,” Logan assured next to him. “You will not go through this alone, Virgil, and I’m certain whatever has you so upset will pass soon.”
Virgil nodded his head and entered the passcode. The message sent chills down his spine.
Princey: Are you alright?
Virgil choked on his laugh, and he did his best to answer.
Virgil: No. Logan’s here tho so it’s ok.
He waited for a few minutes before Roman’s reply came back.
Princey: I did not mean you any harm. I’m sorry.
Virgil took a deep breath and typed a bit, but another text came and froze his fingers.
Princey: I would love to go to the beach with all of you, but I can’t.
He deleted everything he typed out before.
Virgil: Why?
The minutes ticked by as Virgil waited for a response. He shifted in his seat, and his thigh rested against Logan’s leg. Did Roman want to share? Did he make it worse? Every time his mind slipped away, Logan’s hand brought him back. He counted his breaths to keep them even.
Eventually, he got more back than he expected.
Princey: Because I can’t do anything without eyes on me everywhere, and I’m sure a tabloid would be more than happy to start gossiping about all of you. I cannot risk your health nor privacy. I accepted the fame, but you all did not have a choice, and I don’t want any of you hurt by paparazzi.
Oh.
Now it made sense.
Roman only met with Logan and Virgil in the coffee shop.
Roman always walked with a hat, sunglasses, and a sweatshirt on when he went out with Patton, even if it was a summer’s day.
Roman respected his partner’s privacy, but it cost him all the things he wanted to do with his soulmates. Apparently, going to the beach was one of them.
Virgil thought of a few things to say back before deleting it all. What could he say that didn’t sound cheap? He never drew a conclusion to Roman’s out of character behavior, and it hurt Roman in the process. What kind of soulmate was he?
Virgil showed the conversation to Logan, who looked over it. The more he read, the higher his eyebrows rose.
“What brought all this about?” Logan asked.
Virgil searched for his voice and whispered, “Pat wanted to go to the beach.”
“And you both declined I’m assuming.” Logan sighed through his nose. “I’m sure he took it to heart as well.”
Virgil nodded his head. He really should make sure Patton was okay too, but he hated texting Patton when Patton was upset, and Virgil was in no mood to talk on the phone.
His phone chirped again, and Virgil opened it automatically.
Princey: I’m sorry.
Virgil snuffed through his nose.
Virgil: For what?
Again, Virgil waited a bit for the reply. Logan, upon noticing Virgil’s anxiety attack slacked off, excused himself. Virgil thanked him for all his help, to which the other reminded him that’s what friends did for each other.
Virgil ended up waiting 30 minutes with no reply. It would be okay, though, he repeated internally. Perhaps Roman found Patton and was with him. Perhaps he didn’t have the words to describe what he was feeling. Virgil doubted the latter, but it was possible.
Eventually, Virgil gave up. Thomas still needed him at the counter. He exited the break room and found both Logan and Thomas working the coffee shop, but the crowd dispersed since he retreated.
Virgil swallowed his dry throat before tapping Logan on the shoulder. Logan took one look and nodded. He retreated back upstairs and to his room.
How did Logan know exactly what he needed without saying a word?
The rest of the day ran smoothly after that. Like Virgil predicted, Remy came in later that night and gave him hell for upsetting Patton. Virgil tuned it out just like last time. Patton didn’t send Remy after them; Remy was an overprotective friend. And besides, a lot of the things he said Virgil already thought, so why suffer through it twice?
Honestly, sitting at the beach and watching the sunset was exactly what he needed right now.
Virgil called up Patton, and on the third ring, Patton picked up with that overly cheerful, “Well hey there, kiddo!”
“Sup?” He replied. He chewed his lip and recited what he wanted to say in his head.
“Oh, not much.” He sounded tired, and a yawn confirmed it.
Virgil took a deep breath and asked, “Listen, Pat, I know I said no earlier, but would you like to come to the beach with me tonight? It’s okay if you say no.”
Patton grew eerily quiet on the other end, and Virgil swallowed his nerves.
“Sorry, kiddo, I…” Patton sighed. “I’d rather just stay in tonight.”
“Oh,” Virgil tried not to sound too hurt. “It’s okay. I understand.”
“Maybe… maybe we can go another day?”
“Yeah,” Virgil’s heart cracked. “Hey, Pat, I’m sorry if we both made you feel-”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind.” A sigh. “You don’t have to do stuff with me just because I want to.”
But I want to, Virgil wanted to reply. He squeezed his hands in and out of a fist. “I’ll make it up to you, Patton. I swear.”
“Aww, you don’t have to do that for me.” There was the smile Virgil needed to hear. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. I’m okay, really. I know you still care, so-” Patton paused and listened. Virgil strained his ears, and he picked up someone shouting in the background. Patton lowered his voice and continued, “Remy’s home. I’m going to go, okay? He sounds upset.”
Virgil snorted through his nose. “Yeah, that’s kind of my fault. I ignored him when he came to the shop.”
“Did he- Again?” Patton groaned into the phone. “I’m sorry, Virge. I’ll talk to him.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad he looks out for you. Makes my life a little easier.”
Patton laughed, the sound rivaling a child’s giggle. “See you tomorrow, kiddo. I love you.”
“Love you too, Pat,” Virgil replied and hung up. He sighed out all the nerves he held in and leaned against the wall. He opened his messages back up. Roman still hadn’t replied to his text. Virgil groaned and let his head fall back onto the wall as well.
Maybe Roman couldn’t figure out how to type the words he wanted to say. Maybe he needed physical comfort. Unlike Patton, Roman was very much alone in his house. Sure he had Max, but the golden retriever couldn’t exactly stroke his ego the way they could.
Virgil pulled up his keyboard and typed.
Virgil: Hey, meet me at Crescent Beach. Need to talk to you face to face. Please?
Virgil held his breath. He chewed on his lip as he waited for a reply. His phone lit up seconds later.
Princey: Okay.
A heavy weight lifted off Virgil’s shoulders, and he shoved off the wall. Crescent Beach was a mile walk from the cafe, and it’d take about 30 minutes to get there on foot. He pulled his headphones out of his pocket and walked down the street to the sound of his favorite band.
Within no time, the street dwellers shifted from business ties and casual wear to swimsuits and flip-flops. Families packed up their cars after a long day at the beach, and some soul pairs clung to each other as they exited.
Virgil walked to his favorite spot, a grassy area that sat well above the edge of the beach, and sat cross-legged. The breeze blew his hair around, and he took off his hoodie. It was a risk, but it’d be easier for Roman to find him if he could see his soulmark peeking through his shirt.
The waves synchronized with his breathing, and Virgil leaned back on his palms. The sun skimmed the water’s edge. All sorts of colors painted across the sky, the clouds, and the water. The smell of the saltwater relaxed his muscles.
Footsteps crunched in the grass, and Virgil turned his head. Roman appeared behind him, a hoodie drawn up to his neck, hat on, and sunglasses covering his eyes.
“You’re going to trip and fall,” Virgil warned.
“With how brightly you glow, that’s hardly possible,” Roman replied.
Virgil turned back to the ocean to hide his blush. Roman sat beside him. For a while, the two of them let the ocean talk while they listened.
“You can take all that off, you know,” Virgil replied.
Roman continued to stare out ahead of them. “The sunset’s always so beautiful over the ocean.”
“Roman,” Virgil warned. Roman’s head dropped, and a sad smile slid across his face. “It’s getting dark. No one’s going to know it’s you. It’s okay.”
“You forget how recognizable my soulmark is.”
“Fuck it.”
The harshness snapped Roman’s head up to meet Virgil’s eyes. He lightly laughed and whispered, “I’m telling Patton you said that.”
Virgil rolled his eyes. He watched Roman take the hat from his head and smooth out his hair. The sunglasses came next. His eyes shimmered in the sun like the ocean water. Roman’s fingers folded the glasses together, and he stared down at them.
Virgil remarked, “If it really bothers you that much, you don’t have to.”
“I don’t think you realize what you’re asking me to do-”
“I do. I know people are going to be looking at us. I know I might be talked about but Ro, it’s not fair-”
“Life’s not fair. You above any of us should know that.” Roman sighed. “I can be myself in the cafe. That’s good enough for me.”
“Is it though?”
Roman’s eyes glanced over. Virgil’s normally anxious eyes were alight with courage, a flame that Roman never knew he was weak to. Virgil’s fingertips inched closer to his hand, and Roman closed the distance. The tips touched, and for a moment, Roman’s stomach surged with a new emotion.
He looked back at the ocean as if it would wash a bottle ashore with a prompt and sighed.
“I don’t want to drag someone who is just my friend into something like this,” Roman whispered.
“Who said I was just a friend?”
Roman’s breathing caught in his throat. Virgil couldn’t have implied what he- Roman was overthinking. Virgil wouldn’t- No, this couldn’t possibly-
Roman spoke, “Of course, you’re more than that. You’re my life partner.”
“So they’re going to find out eventually, right? I mean, it’s not like we’re exactly getting rid of each other.”
“Virgil-” Roman’s voice tapered off. “Are you really sure?”
Virgil lifted his hand, and it hovered above Roman’s. He took a deep breath and closed the distance to place his hand down. “I’m sure.”
Roman’s body shook, but Virgil couldn’t tell in the low light if it was excitement or nerves. Roman’s fingers tucked under his hoodie, the one that had the crown emblem on it, and lifted it up over his head.
The soulmark on his arms glowed like the sunset. The colors pulsed and shifted like the waves of the ocean, and Roman’s sigh rivaled the ocean breeze. He folded the sweatshirt up and set it beside him, now free as the seagulls soaring overhead.
“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Virgil coaxed.
Roman’s laugh shook his stomach, and he twisted his hand to weave their fingers together. For a moment, the two of them sat wrapped in the ocean’s song, their hands intertwined.
“Thank you.”
“No problem, Princey.”
“No, really, you have no idea what this means to me. To be sitting here, beside a soulmate, relaxing at the beach. It’s all I’ve ever dreamed of.”
“Sorry it’s with me,” Virgil said with a light laugh. However, when he looked over, Roman’s eyes held anything but mirth. His heart stopped.
“I’m not sorry at all. I’m glad it’s with you,” Roman replied.
Virgil’s brain failed to process a proper response, and he settled on shifting his attention to the ocean waters.
The sun sat halfway below the ocean as if drowning in the conversation and spilled its remaining colors into the sky. The bright orange faded into a dark blue, and a few stars peeked out of the darkness.
“Virgil,” Roman spoke and shocked Virgil out of his trance, “what exactly do you feel towards me?”
“Well I don’t hate you, so you’re doing okay in my book,” Virgil replied.
Roman made a frustrated noise through his nose, and he responded, “Yes, I got that, but… but are we just friends, or-” He stopped when he caught Virgil’s shocked expression and swallowed his sentence. “I just want to make sure.”
Virgil bit the inside of his cheeks. “I- I don’t know.”
Roman’s hands pulled from Virgil’s grip, and he hugged his knees close to his chest. “I see. It’s alright. I don’t- forget I said anything.”
“Roman,” Virgil started, but he had no idea how to continue. He held his lip firm between his teeth.
He said the wrong thing. Of course he said the wrong thing! When did he ever say the right thing to anyone he ever cared about? He hurt Patton, and now he hurt Roman not once but twice. He should've known-
“No, Virgil, it’s okay. I… I should have known I’m still cursed.” A bitter laugh followed, and Virgil perked an eyebrow.
“Care to explain? You’re not going to accidentally guilt trip me into a relationship, Princey.”
“I know, but… it sounds horrible.”
“Try me.”
Roman sighed and brushed his hair from his eyes. “Everyone who ever came into my life that I’ve loved has left. My parents, my aunt, my previous relationships… they’ve all just left, and I’m still standing here like a rock against the ocean. With each lost relationship, a bit more of my hope for a happy ending is washed away. I should be happy that I have not one but three soulmates to lean on when times get hard, but...”
“But it’s not enough,” Virgil ended.
A bitter laugh leaked through Roman’s lips. “Pathetic, right?”
“Roman, you’re anything but pathetic. I know tons of people who would’ve cracked by now.”
“Who says I haven’t?”
The words stung deeper than any nickname, rude remark, or offhand comment Roman made before. Virgil sighed through his nose.
Virgil sighed and decided a shift in subject was necessary. “I honestly don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Stay so optimistic. I mean, even though all that, you’re still ready to get up and try again. And then there’s me who was ready to give up after just one.”
Roman stared out into the ocean and picked his words carefully. “It’s not easy, I’ll tell you that much, but I’m too stubborn to give in.”
“You got that right.”
Roman nudged his shoulder into Virgil’s. Virgil laughed through his teeth and sounded like a fresh bottle of soda on a hot summer’s day.
The sun barely peeked over the horizon line and gave the two their privacy. The lights from the sunset melted Roman’s skin into the same color of his soulmark, making his whole body glow like a passionate fire. Virgil let a long sigh pass through his nose and decided on something he hoped he wouldn’t regret.
With one pull, he lifted his shirt off his torso.
Roman’s audible gasp stole his breath away. Virgil kept his eyes on the ocean and tried to keep his heart in rhythm with the crashing waves. He balled his shirt up into his hands and squeezed until his knuckles turned white.
“Virgil,” Roman whispered. It sent chills down his spine, and his throat closed up.
“I-I know I’m kinda thin, but I swear-”
“It’s gorgeous.”
“W-what?”
“Your soulmark. It’s violet like the setting night sky.”
Virgil’s bitter laugh followed. “I’ll take your word for it. I’ve… never seen it lit up.”
Roman fished around in his pocket. “Would you like me to take a picture?”
Virgil’s throat swelled, and his eyes burned. His body shook as he contained the sobs rising through his chest.
Roman stiffened and started to slide the phone back in his pocket. “Nevermind. I didn’t mean to upset you-”
“No, I-” Virgil choked out a laugh, “you literally have no idea how long I’ve waited to see it.”
“I could tell you the same thing.” Roman pulled his phone out and laid on his back. He took his picture and sat back up.
Virgil’s fingers shook as he wrapped them around the phone. His eyes soaked in every detail. His glow contrasted the setting sun but blended into the night sky. It looked like a sad stormcloud striking all its emotions down his back. The colors blended together as Virgil's eyes spilled over the side of his cheeks.
“Yeah, I guess it is pretty.”
“You’re iridescent,” Roman responded. Virgil didn’t bother to hide the blush across his cheeks. He wiped his tears away with the palm of his hand and continued to stare at Roman’s phone.
“Thanks, I guess.”
“I mean every word of it, Virgil. Everything about you is perfect.”
While Virgil couldn’t agree, it still felt nice to hear those words. He eventually handed Roman’s phone back. Again, they returned their attention to the ocean. Night fell faster than they anticipated, and soon the only light around was the glow of their soulmarks. It lulled the world into a state of domestic peace.
“Ro, let’s say hypothetically I do feel more for you than just a friend,” Virgil started. He refused to meet Roman’s eyes until he finished. “What would happen?”
“We’d live happily ever after,” Roman answered on reflex. He laughed and continued, “I don’t know, honestly. I guess we’d start out slow if that’s what you wanted. I don’t want to make you nervous or uncomfortable, and I know I have a habit of being a bit…”
“Extra?”
“I guess you could say that,” Roman replied and rubbed his neck.
Virgil sighed, and a soft smile pulled at his lips. “It sounds nice.”
“Would you-” Roman started but cut his sentence short. He swallowed his words and forced his lungs to inflate.
“Roman, if you love me, just say so,” Virgil replied.
“I must’ve tried a hundred times, but every time, it never feels like enough-”
“Don’t. Just say it.”
Roman froze at Virgil’s words, and he sighed through his mouth. He turned to face Virgil, his eyes soft as the sand. “I love you, Virgil.”
“Thanks,” Virgil replied, and Roman’s jaw dropped. He grinned at the reaction and replied, “I love you too, I guess.”
“You guess?” Roman scoffed.
“Well someone has to, right?”
Roman’s offended face drifted to amused disbelief, and he sighed. “Virgil Angstlich, you amaze me every day.”
“I try.”
“Well if you’re still not completely sure, we could always kiss and find out together.”
Virgil squeezed onto his knees and kept his breathing under control. However, his heart won, and he ended up breathing to its sporadic rhythm.
“I- yeah- okay, I guess-”
Roman slid closer, and Virgil willed his neck forward to close the gap. His lips hovered above Roman’s, and he felt hot breath tickle his cheek. His head lowered, and his forehead brushed up against Roman’s bangs.
He could do this.
After swallowing bile back down his throat, Virgil lifted his head back up. He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against Roman’s. They felt like warm blankets on a cold night. Their warmth spread through his neck and sent goosebumps down his spine. The mark on his back blazed.
He didn’t know the fireworks people whispered about went off inside their body when they kissed their soulmate.
Roman pulled his head away first, and his tongue licked his lips. “Peppermint, huh?”
Virgil nodded. His body still tingled with Roman’s warmth, and he allowed his lips to fall into a gentle and genuine smile.
Roman continued, “Virgil, if I may, I’d like to hold you.”
“Yeah, sure,” Virgil replied. Roman’s hands wrapped around his chest, and Virgil gasped as Roman picked him up like a doll and set him between his legs. He pulled Virgil’s chest against his and wrapped his arms around his torso.
“Is this okay?”
“Y-yeah. This is fine.”
Roman rested his chin on Virgil’s shoulders. “Good. I thought you were going to break under my fingertips.”
“I’m just unnaturally thin.”
“Unnaturally beautiful maybe, as long as you promise me you’re eating healthy.”
Virgil sighed a laugh. “I promise. Thomas has been making sure I take care of myself. I mean, I wasn’t for a while, but I’ve been eating. I just have a really high metabolism. I guess my body has the opposite reaction to stress.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Roman replied.
Virgil leaned back into Roman’s touch. The moon started to cast its glow over the ocean waves. The breeze may have been cold, but Roman’s hold warmed Virgil more than he needed. He caught the reflection of his mark glowing on Roman’s arms. The purple, red, and gold colors reminded him of the sunset, and he let out a long relaxed sigh.
Roman took one arm away from his torso and ran it through Virgil’s hair. He placed a kiss on his scalp and leaned back as far as his muscles could comfortably support both their weight in a sitting position.
Roman’s fingers lulled Virgil’s eyes closed. They reminded him of the way a special someone used to run her hands through his hair as well, and his heart ached at the familiar memory. He was sure Cassie would’ve loved to meet Roman.
It wasn’t until now Virgil realized how tired he truly was. The anxiety attacks of today, all the emotional highs and lows, and confessing his love depleted most of his energy for the day. The world blurred into swirling colors under his eyes, and his mind unraveled.
He’d have to watch the sunset on the ocean with Roman more often.
The Illuminated AU Master List
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TASK 1, PART 1 – QUESTIONNAIRE !!
BASIC INFORMATION.
What is your character’s full name? Lilo Kaia Pelekai. How is it pronounced? Lee-loh ky-uh pail-e-ky. Is there a meaning behind it? Lilo means ‘generous one’, Kaia means ‘the sea’. Does your character have any nicknames? She was called weirdo and freaklo a lot as a kid, but the only pleasent nickname she’s been given is Lilo-pop. When and where were they born? Kauai, Hawaii. June 16, 2000. What’s their zodiac sign and what traits do they most relate to? Gemini. Affectionate, curious, adaptable, inconsistent, indecisive and quick-witted. What’s their nationality? American. What’s their occupation? Unemployed. What gender do they identify themselves as? Female.
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.
What’s their eye color? Brown. Do they wear glasses or contacts? No. Hair color? Black. Have they ever dyed their hair or wanted to? Nope. Height? 5′3. Body build? Slim. Do they have any birthmarks? That little beauty mark above her lip. Do they have any piercings or tattoos? Just ears. If not, do they want to get some? Not right now. Knowing her she’ll eventually tattoo something to do with Elvis on some part of her body. Do they have a healthy life style? Healthy may be a stretch. How easy do they get sick? She doesn’t catch colds often. Which is good because she’s a nightmare when she’s sick. All it takes is a runny nose and she’s in bed for three days complaining that she’s going to die. Any marks on their body (injuries, …)? She’s got a few scars but they’re small and mostly unnoticeable unless you’re looking. What’s their personal style/how do they like to dress? This girl loves Hawaiian clothes. She wears flowered dresses when she’s not in her surfer gear. Check this, this and this. She’s also fine with throwing on an oversized hoodie and yoga pants. What is their favorite and least favorite feature about themselves? Lilo loves her hair. She thinks it looks beautiful when she actually puts effort into it. It’s always tangled shiny and soft and flowers are the perfect accessory for it. She kind of wishes she was taller, just so no one would ever think she was incapable of beating them up. But proving them wrong is fun, so she wouldn’t change it.
PERSONALITY.
Positive traits? Persistent, original, creative, courageous, clever and loving. Negative traits? Moody, stubborn, inconsiderate, disobedient, quirky and dramatic. What do they consider to be the best and the worst part of their personality? She thinks the best thing about her is her fighting spirit, how she refuses to stop trying. No matter how many times she is knocked down, she’s always going to get back on her feet. Even if she’s whining while getting there. It’s her weirdness that turns people off but she wouldn’t change that. She knows she’s too high strung and that bothers her the most because it clouds her judgement. Are they more extroverted or introverted? Extroverted. Any talents? She’s a heck of a surfer. She’s good at thinking of solutions too. Though her photography usually consists of strange subjects, the pictures come out good. And she could be a detective if she focused on things that actually mattered. What are their fears? Losing someone else, storms, driving in the rain. Do they have any phobias? She doesn’t have any actual phobias. What is their soft spot? Family and Elvis. Always Elvis. List 3 pet-peeves they can’t stand? People that talk over or interrupt her, someone that is purposelessly destructive and feeling belittled.
EDUCATION.
How far did they go in school? Are they still studying? She’s a high school senior and still studying. Do/did they like school? Absolutely not. What type of student are/were they? The type that does not pay attention in class. While she’s smart, she doesn’t care and that can hurt her grades. She doesn’t really have any classmates to pass notes to or talk to, so she isn’t disruptive, but she often doodles on her paper or plays games on her phone instead of listening to the teacher. What is/was their favorite subject? Science or history, depending on the topic. And their least favorite? It’s a tossup. Maybe math. What were they/would they have been voted as “most likely to…” in the yearbook? Fall on stage while accepting their diploma.
FAMILY.
Who are your character’s parents? Currently unnamed because I’d like to discuss that with Nani’s mun if we ever get her. How would your character describe them? Unfortunately Lilo’s memories tend to get blurrier and more transparent as time goes on. Fortunately she has a lot of photos to look back on so she never forgets what they looked like. She would describe them as fun, supportive, protective. If they were here now she knows they would have welcomed Stitch into their home and her family would’ve been so big and complete and wonderful. Her father was her hero and she wanted to be just like her mother. Do they have any siblings? Nani and Stitch. Are they close with their family? Family is everything to Lilo, both before and after her parents passed away. Losing them was the hardest thing she’s ever been through and ever will go through. She was very attached. It felt like everything had been destroyed. Her entire world was shaken up. She’s never gotten any closure, a part of her is still in denial that her parents aren’t coming back, and she still fears every single day losing one of her siblings. It’s enough to drive her into a panic attack if she thinks about it too much, so she tries to ignore it completely.
ROMANCE & SEXUALITY.
What’s their romantic and sexual orientation? Lilo isn’t much for labels, she does know she likes boys, but she wouldn’t see gender as a deciding factor for how she feels. She is most likely panromantic and pansexual. Are they seeing anyone right now? Nope. Have they ever been in an relationship? Not a true relationship. Have they ever been in love? No, no and no. How easy do they fall for someone? It wouldn’t take much if she had a connection with said person. Honestly someone being nice to her and knowing how to handle her at her worst, making her smile, that’s it. Buy her a snow cone and she’ll marry you. In their view, why didn’t any past relationships work out? She was just a kid and she wasn’t looking to settle down. She still isn’t. What do they look for in someone? Kindness, humor and originality. Do they believe in love at first sight? Or fate? Love at first sight, maybe. Fate, yes. What’s their views on romance? Do they go after it or avoid it? Neither. It will find her when it does. She’s open to dating or being single. Did they have their first time already? How was it in their point of view? No. No, no. No. What is their view on sex? It’s part of a relationship and when she’s ready and likes someone enough, it’ll happen. What are their turn ons and turn offs? She doesn’t know yet. She likes when people play with her hair. Were they ever cheated on or have they cheated on someone? No. Do they want to get married in the future? Possibly. Have kids? Yes.
QUIRKS.
Are they right or left handed? Right. What’s a word that’s always on their lips? Does ‘ugh’ count? Is there a saying they keep on repeating? When family comes up she’ll repeat what her parents taught her. Ohana means family, family means no one gets left behind or forgotten. Do they curse? Not much. What’s their worst habit? Getting bent out of shape over little things. Do they drink or smoke? How frequently? They do neither. Are they an early bird or a night owl? She’s a mid-day kind of person. How tidy is their room? Fairly organized but if she’s looking for something it’ll look like a tornado came through for a few hours. How long to they usually take getting ready in the morning? About ten minutes or less.
FAVORITES.
What’s their favorite color? Red. Favorite movie? Blue Hawaii or anything with Elvis in it. Music genre? Rock and roll. Food? Depends. Book? One of her many books of conspiracies. Favorite non-alcoholic drink? Slushies, milkshakes or smoothies. Ice cream flavor? Neapolitan. Indoors or outdoors? Outdoors.
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For the anon requesting 4 and 49 for the prompt thingy:
4. “You did all of this for me?”
Chloe lights the last of the set of candles before placing and lining them carefully in order from the ones opposite them.
Just as she finishes, she feels her heart pounce by the sound of something being opened towards the entrance of the room. She hurries to the door to stop the person from coming in any closer.
“Beca!” She says her girlfriend’s name with glee.
“Chloe! Hey. Wow, it feels like years since we’ve been in here.” Beca says as her eyes dart around the old room where once the Bella’s held their rehearsals. Her thoughts are then interrupted, as the redhead wraps her arms around the small DJ, pulling her in for a longingly warm hug.
“Maybe because it has been years.” Chloe confirms, her arms tightly wrapped around the smaller girl.
“More like 4, but okay.” Beca says as she melts into the redhead’s arms.
“How did you even get the keys for this place, Beale?” The brunette questions her suddenly, breaking away from the hug.
“If you were here for as long as me, you would of known every trick and turn around here.” She throws a wink at Beca while she takes her hand in hers, their fingers intertwining. “Now, come. I’ve got a little surprise for you.”
Beca’s eyebrows rise as she follows Chloe’s direction. In the middle of the room lays a blanket, patterned red and black. On top of it sits a panic basket, along side with foods and dips and even a rose. The air is filled with scents of vanilla and strawberries, the only light being reflected is from - what could easily be 100 - candles all scattered around the room, as soft music is being played over the speakers, which now Beca only just notices.
“You- did this all for me?” Beca remains speechless as her glistening eyes glance from one thing to another.
“I did.” Chloe agrees, as she now stands facing Beca, holding both of her hands in her own. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” Beca is quick to answer, before she leans in and places a quick peck to her girlfriends lips. “But why?” She then asks confused.
Chloe’s face turns to a shade darker than her hair as her heart begins to speed up. A new, slower song begins to play through the speakers, and Chloe couldn’t be more thankful for it’s timing.
“Dance with me, Beca?” Chloe says, ignoring the girls earlier question.
Beca thinks about it for a second. “Okay.”
Chloe moves her hands to Beca’s waist, as the brunette moves her arms comfortably around the redhead’s neck. Chloe pulls her closer, as she slowly starts to sway their body’s, allowing the two to move to the sound of the slow rhythm which surrounds them.
They’re silent, but it’s not uncomfortable. They continue to softly move along with the music, just in their little piece of bliss with one another. Beca eventually drops her hands from around the girl’s neck, and wraps them around her waist instead, hugging the taller girl, Chloe’s heartbeat now placed at her ear as she leans into her chest.
Beca listens to Chloe’s heart beating as she closes her eyes, feeling safe and secure in her favorite place in her lovers arms.
“I can hear your heart beat.” The brunette softly whispers.
The redhead’s hand meets in the brunette’s hair, her fingers softly stroking the girls locks as her heart begins to speed up it’s pace. “Now you can know how fast you make my heart jump.” “Okay Beale, that was super cheesy. Even for you.” Beca giggles softly against her body. The redhead replies nothing, only a slight smile tugging at her corners of her lips.
Chloe now feels the heat moving to her cheeks as she thinks of what she had planned to do for this evening. She continues to sway her body along with Beca’s, keeping her close and settled. She takes a deep breath for the first time since Beca’s arrival. “Beca, I’m going to sound extremely cheesy to you right now-” She quickly swallows away a doubt.
“Alright...” Beca replies short with a confused tone, listening to the girls heart as it now doubles it’s rate.
“That day I met you, your first day at Barden?” Chloe’s tone making her words sounding like a question.
“Yeah?” Beca smiles to herself, remembering that exact day, and exact moment she first laid eyes on her.
“I knew there was something special about you. I mean, not just your voice. Because damn, you have an amazing voice.” Chloe quickly stops. “I mean that, I knew you were going to become an important part of my life. I just, got that feeling, you know? And honestly, everyday I’m grateful for it. I’m grateful for the Bella’s, I’m grateful for that day, for Aubrey, but most importantly, Beca, I’m grateful for you.” Beca now untangles herself from the redhead to stare into her eyes, her own mirroring the water starting to fill up her sight. “And when you said you had feelings for me too when I finally had the guts to confess to you, Beca, that was everything. You have made me so happy, and I’m so honoured to be your girlfriend each and every day.” The redhead takes a quick breath to stop her from completely bawling right at that moment. “And I hope you don’t think this is too ridiculous, or mushy, but, I love you, and I don’t want to ever miss a chance of spending my time or thoughts without you ever again. So, I only ask this one thing.” Chloe moves her hand to the pockets of her jeans, removing a small, red velvet box. The redhead could see Beca’s body tensing up as her jaw tightens, her eyes now even redder and glassier than before. Chloe felt goosebumps attack her skin, as earlier, she felt confident about all of this. But now from Beca’s reaction, she wasn’t quite so sure.
“W-would you be mine forever?” Chloe decides to continue anyway, stuttering, not wanting to miss this moment as she opens the box to expose a simple yet stunning ring hidden inside. “Would you take my hand, and allow me to be your wife, everyday, even when we’re old, and grey, and wrinkly, and we’re having wheelchair races in the nursing home our kids send us to?” Chloe stops to listen to Beca’s chuckle. “I love you more than anything, and anyone, and I want you and the rest of the world to know just how much. Will you marry me, Beca Mitchell? Would you give me the extraordinary gift of being not only your girlfriend, your best friend, but also your wife?” It was short, and simple, but that word will stay inside of Chloe’s head, echoing in the small brunette’s voice for the rest of that night, and forever - The exact three letter word that Chloe wanted desperately to hear.
“Yes.”
49. “We’re just friends.”
“You can ask me as many times as you want, Aubrey. The answer is still going to be the same, we’re just friends!” Beca says for the fifteenth time that day.
The blonde’s lip tug at the corner, still not believing the short brunette’s words as she sits on the opposite couch in the Bella house. “I think you’re lying. There’s obviously something!” Aubrey starts yelling now.
Beca rolls her eyes at the monster in front of her. “Why would I lie? There is like, legit nothing going on with us.”
“It’s just that…” The blonde pauses, looking for the right words. “I swear, I just swear you two are, like, girlfriends?” The blonde replies frazzled.
“Well, we’re not, so.” Beca goes back to doodling on the sheet music.
“Okay, okay, fine. Whatever.” The blonde stands up.
“So what, like, never? You guys have never been together?” The blonde manages to sneak in quick.
“Nope, never.” Beca replies blunt.
“Fine. Whatever. Anyway, what do you think of the set list?” She changes the subject quick, remembering the real reason why she here; Chloe’s idea for her to help Beca with the new set list for the Bella’s since she was now the one in charge.
Beca meets the blonde’s gaze instead of looking down at the paper. “Oh hey, yeah, it’s great. I’m just making little notes here and there.” Aubrey just nods her head, not bothering to open her mouth to speak to the tiny DJ again.
The room becomes quiet, almost tense, between the two Bella’s in the room. That is, until Aubrey has no control over her word vomit yet again.
“You guys are hooking up, I just know it, okay! You and Chloe are totes together. She never shuts up about you!” She throws her hands up in the air like a little kid. “I mean, it’s beyond a joke now. I just don’t know why you’re lying, but I know you guys are a thing.”
“We, are not, a thing.” Beca says serious. “Seriously? Like? No offence but, Chloe isn’t exactly my type.” The brunette then confesses as she watches the blonde’s mouth drop open.
“What do you mean she’s not your type?!” She bites back quickly.
“Oh, so, she has to be my type now?” Beca’s tone gets deeper. “You’re a monster when you think we’re dating, and you’re a bigger monster if we’re not?And if she's not my type? That- that doesn’t even make sense.” Beca laughs at how ridiculous the former Bella is being.
Aubrey huffs and rolls her eyes as she sits back quietly in her spot, folding her arms against herself.
Beca goes back to writing and doodling over the sheets of paper. But she just couldn’t contain herself anymore. She was at breaking point right about now. And she knew she wasn’t the only one. “Um, hey. What’s the date today? I’m getting so mixed up with the month’s and dates lately.” She moves her free hand around while she talks. “It’s the 1st of April-”
But as soon as Aubrey could finish her sentence, Chloe comes jumping out of hiding behind the couch, as if right on cue, and straight into her brunette girlfriend’s lap as she places kisses on her now laughing mouth before speaking. “We got you, Bree! April Fools!”
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Anxiety/Tasmania Bound
Going to Tasmania Wednesday morning - but still experiencing an immense amount of anxiety, and what the sources are I would have no idea. To be a bit blunt though, I’m actually a bit sick and tired of people constantly telling me to find “what” the source is. In short, I don’t believe it’s actually that easy. A numerous amount of things are probably causing these panic attacks, it’s not just as easy as “oh yeah, it’s probably because I’ve been rejected from ten jobs in the past two weeks and haven’t been able to score a single interview”. And while I’m sure that while this does add to the anxiety piling up within me, I don’t think one thing would solely be the reason.
Anyway yesterday, I had a me day. These type of days, I would usually beat myself up about over because I’m not “using my valuable time” to good use. Time is money as they always say - and yes, I’m guilty of comparing my hours in the day to my hourly rate hahaha. It is by far, the WORST thing any human being can do to themselves in my personal opinion. Yes, it’s motivating yourself to use your time to good use, that you are valuable as a human being and that being productive results in work. BUT, I also feel as if it can deprive you from relaxing and being in the moment. Just letting time take you, and absorbing your surroundings. And I used these *valuable hours* to just literally, play Final Fantasy XIV and Abe’s Odyssey: New and Tasty - because it’s my life ya know. I mean I could of done something a little bit more productive but, I really had a good time ya know. Though I do get the whole guilty feeling of when my housemate comes home and it is that awkward conversation of “yes I have been at home all day, in my pyjamas, eating tortilla chips and playing video games” don’t judge me vibes.
I’m leaving on the plane with Gen and Hannah at 8:30am for Dark Mofo ahhhhh so much excitement! Even if the whole event isn’t as amazing (as much as I would love it to be), just to get away from everything right now is what I need. I think I do have the travel blues, or the no-direction blues... or the I hate capitalism fuck men and capitalism vibes. And sitting at home with a bunch of things that need to be done, so many thoughts going through my head, no-where to really go. So I’m bringing no check-in just my backpack, my nintendo switch, and a couple of books to focus on. Without the guilty feeling of having something that needs to be done around me. Looking forward to good chill vibes, and we have already booked our events including some music gigs, art exhibits and so fourth - so I am super excited!
Anyway that’s it for me, I think I’ll bring a lil booklet along with me to Tasmania to maybe doodle in and write some cute things. I always appreciate things like that. Also I’m eight months smoking free ahhhh, proud but also will kill for a ciggy haha :) Until next time, Shan.
BONUS:
Music:
- Deerhunter, Microcastle (chill rock I am digging these vibes. Nice to just listen to the ambient drones of this band)
- Weyes Blood, Front Row Seat to Earth (Ummm don’t think gonna be everyone’s cup of tea but if you are an emotional person who loves deep music yas. And those vocals are unf).
- Fiona Apple, The Idler Wheel is... (lol long title, but omg this is SUCH a good album I completely forgot. The instrumentals, the power of the lyrics and Fiona’s vocals ahhhhhh so good. I love hating men while listening to this album)
Read: - I’m not actually reading something but I think I’m going to start Good Omens! My first Terry Pratchet book!
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Rant Thingy
Hey. I kinda just wanted to vent so here I go.
First off, I hate popular kids. They don't really do anything wrong most of the time, just the vibe they give off makes me hate them deeply. It's weird I know. But anyways, I have this friend. She told me she doesn't really want to be associated with some of the people in our friend group because of what they've done over the summer. Some of the friends have done illegal things on their own accord, and understandably, she doesn't want to be known as a girl like that. Another friend has just been annoying to her for like 5 years and she's just kinda done. She told me she wants to be more social and more popular. At first I was like 'um okay' but when I asked 'what kids do you want to hang out with?' She started to list off some people who are hella bitchy and mean. I'm really scared, I have hella bad anxiety, and I don't want one of my best friends of over at least 5 years drift to that side of the social platform. Seriously, a girl a few grades above me was like that and she got suspended/expelled (idk which) for selling weed brownies in the hallway of the highschool.
I really want to convince this friend that it's a really REALLY bad idea to do this, but she's not only stubborn, she's determined. This friend is also infamous for as soon as she breaks up with a guy, a few hours later she finds another guy. I love and hate this girl at the same time. I don't know what to do and I'm really stressed out.
Let me also say I'm the type of person that puts my friends above me at all costs. So yeah. I also just started highschool and the place is really confusing and idk if I'll be to class on time hhhh everything is so stressful I can't.
Right now I'm being hella edgy and listening to mcr and doing some doodling to relieve some stress, but it isn't helping much :///
I also have this friend who is in the special ed. Category of kids, but she's really sweet and hella funny. She's being bullied online on Instagram by some fuckboys and she told me during English class at the end of the day last Friday and I was ready to get my ass kicked out of school for beating the shit out of these gelled-up-haired-hoverboard-using-ass motherfuckers. Hopefully it'll be resolved soon.
Then there's my other friend who I'm also really worried about- fuck I'm working myself to much hhhh- and she's in my wellness/health class. We're really close, and she's been through a LOT. I'm usually there to comfort her so I feel it's my duty to support her for any shit that goes down. Without going into too much detail, I'll say she was sexually assaulted (she was raped in other words) by a highschooler. She's really uncomfortable being in health since we'll be talking about sex-ed, and whenever sexual assault or harassment is brought up, she usually spaces out and has a silent panic attack. I don't sit near her so I won't be able to see if she is okay or not during that unit ;__;
What else.. ok. Um I'm scared of not being able to make it to class on time?? I can't carry all my binders in my backpack at once and I barely know the layout of the school,,, I'm just a freshman in this new building which is three floors. Hell, I still need to use a bloody map. I won't get much homework since I'm in the lower classes (bless) and I'm not in gym class because of how low my self-confidence is (blESS) but my locker is on the second floor, there are seven periods, the schedule is hella confusing, my locker is really hard to open (you need to really use force hhh), and lunch is really short. I'm just a hot mess rn. Then again when am I not one.
Uhh life update I guess? I just moved some posters into my new room. I have two aot ones, two loz ones, and a red army eddsworld poster my biological mother @ourvalentinesnight blessed me with on my birthday <333. I just god some hella dorky Loz collecters cards and a triforce pin which is now on my backpack lmao. I also have some aot pins on their of the scouting regimine and another one I'm too lazy to get up and look at despite it being right across the room.
I think I've ranted enough now. My fingers are numb and my thumbs are sore. Listening to P!ATD >:3c
Sarcastic Cuntbag out :O
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