#sometimes people have fucking boundaries. this should not be a hard concept to grasp.

[aseriesofunfortunatejan]

I can't help but think about this really bad post I read. It started with a good hook, something like "you're not willing to admit it, but sometimes you HAVE to lie to children." I'm definitely of the opinion that you can communicate a lot more to children than a lot of people seem to think, but I'm genuinely interested in learning more about how parents may wind up HAVING to make the different choice, so I read this post with an open mind.

Except the poster went on to describe a situation in which they frankly could have communicated with their kid. They even asked the reader "what was I gonna do? Explain to a toddler that [fairly simple concept for a toddler to grasp]?" like yeah bestie. The post had a ~humourous~ conclusion in which they explained that they had actually and secretly themselves acted out in anger and frustration on the object that angered and frustrated the child - which is funny because it's very telling of where the child may have learned this pattern of behaviour.

This post was very frustrating, because the majority seemed to agree with it. When one person did disagree in the replies, everyone else was frankly nasty to them?

But what's funniest is that I later read a joke post that genuinely presented the argument that you have to lie to children sometimes very well. It was that Tweet that went something along the lines of: "(to a child when I'm holding an oreo milkshake) it's spicy you won't like it"

And like yeah I get it. Like I understand the funny aspect (plot twist, tumblr user jadyjads understands jokes) but I also genuinely understand why this happens and why it's an okay lie to tell to a child. This is a situation in which as an adult you are allowed to create a boundary between your personal needs and wants, and your role as an educator. This is also an example of something a young child may have a hard time grasping (why can someone else have something but I can't), and even if the kid plays nice and only takes a sip to taste it, they will build up frustration because they really wanted more. Giving some of your sugary treat to a kid is something you will want to avoid when you actually know how children work. Moreover, this is most likely a "one-off" situation and not something you are taking away from the child in the long run.

And yes I'm overthinking the funny Tweet. But I think it's interesting that I was able to draw more from a fucking joke Tweet than from a long post from a self-righteous parent trying to justify their anger to online strangers.

It should be taken into consideration that toddlers and children understand a lot more than you think. But in practice, parents need the ability to treat themselves well. As a parent, you will have to learn to draw the line between "taking a shortcut" and "miscommunicating with someone who's learning from you".

[goldemas1244]

A, J, N, T, and Z for the fandom ask

Thanks for the ask, budster! This took a while to make, I had to recollect on so many old fandoms!

A. Your current OTP(s)/OT3(s)/OTX(s)

I haven't had OTPs in a while. I've been a bit more open to character multiships and selfships recently. However I do have a few ships I wouldn't really change:

Springtrap x Mangle (Look I love Foxangle as much as the next person but haha no, Frexy for life)

Bonnie x Chica

Foxy x Freddy

Dee Dee x The Darkest Pit of Hell

Nightmare Freddy x Nightmare Bonnie

Henry Emily x A Good Night's Sleep

Michael Afton x Also A Good Night's Sleep

Toy Bonnie x Toy Chica

Toy Freddy x Mr Hugs

Red Spy x Blu Sniper

Red Engineer x Blu Spy

Elita-1 x Optimus Prime x Megatron x Starscream x Jetfire (ex)

Megatron x Minimus Ambus

Ratchet x Drift

Cyclonus x Tailgate

Rung x Being Remembered

Batman x Lobster Thermidore

And I guess a bunch other more I just can't remember because most of my fictional relationships are selfships more than anything

J. Name a fandom you didn't care/think about until you saw it all over Tumblr

A lot of my fandoms are things I've thought about and loved, most of them since childhood. But I guess I could go with G1 and IDW Transformers. Honestly, if it weren't for Tumblr, I never would've known they even existed!

N. Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice)

This is more of a general take, really. It IS rooted in a fandom or two but I feel like it applies to almost any fandom out there.

An openness towards creative representation, AUs, and much other stuff as long as it doesn't exist within very serious boundaries. Questionable is fine, but there should be a massively detailed warning.

Accept that not everything is black and white; sometimes things are different shades of grey. History and life have always been that way and it's our job to always consider the grey zone in debate.

Stop. Fucking. Complaining. Please. I've had it UP TO HERE with complaints left, right, and centre. It's always from white American people trying to be woke and it can be very damaging to a fandom, especially if the allegations end up false. For example, I just want to enjoy memes and good fanart, not scroll through white people textposts about how something is like anti-black or pro-cop or ableist or N*zi just because of an overlooked minor detail from foreign developers and people who probably never knew about that shit! It HURTS a fandom and I WISH THEY'D STOP DOING THAT. LOOKING AT YOU RESIDENT EVIL VILLAGE FANDOM I HOPE YOU GET FUCKED BY THE DLC FOR WHAT YOU SAID ABOUR KARL. (Note: This does not apply to porno. Do complain about that all you want because a lot of that is just fucking messed up man. Emphasis on fucking lmao.)

T. Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending, about anything at all (gender identity, sexual or romantic orientation, extended family, sexual preferences like top/bottom/switch, relationship with poetry, seriously anything)

I'll write two for every category!

For gender identity: TF2 Medic knows about every gender known to the multiverse, so if you request even a never-before-heard-of-gender surgery, he could effectively perform said surgery flaw(ed)lessly. Transformers didn't have a gender before the concept was introduced; they were rated based on storage capacity, survivability, and quality.

For sexual or romantic orientation: In the world of Minecraft, the only beings to experience sexual and romatic attraction are the Higher Powers, including The Player (but sometimes they don't either which is valid). The only Glamrock without a sexual or romantic orientation is Freddy, basically because the poor bear just can't grasp the importance of having one (let him live his lovely life pls).

For extended family: All the Creepypasta characters consider each other family, despite most claiming that they don't even like each other. Michael Afton likes to visit graveyards and talk to the people there, claiming them to be his wide network of extended family.

For sexual preferences: Herobrine's sexual preference is incompetence. Optimus Prime's preference is girlboss who can dom him.

For relationships with poetry: Let me make this perfectly clear: Megatron has MAD RESPECT for human poets, especially the ones who are Just Some Guy (like me!). King K. Rool in the DKC TV show keeps a secret compartment somewhere in his library, filled to the ceiling with poetry he's written throughout his entire crocodilian life.

For anything really (only one because it's LONG):

In Minecraft, things are a lot more complex than first meets the eye.

The hierarchy begins with the developers, with Notch being somewhat of an exiled God. They look like their average themselves, with some of them taking more creative personas or 'Skins'.

Then, we move on to the biomes. Each biome is a different entity on its own; think about Greek Gods. They each have forms of their own, all humanoid in appearance, but some preferring to hide beind their Skins as well.

We first start out with the basic biomes. Then, those biomes receive younger biomes to take care of from the developers, and so on and so on.

Some older biomes are soon replaced, but they still guide the newer ones. These newer biomes are the current biomes we have now. Sometimes they aren't replaced, just upgraded. When they retire, they become part of the dev team.

Then there come the structures. Wells, temples, and the like. They aren't the children of the biomes, rather they're entirely separate entities. A little on the lower level, but still separate. These entities do not have the ability to use Skins, but they have the ability to customize all the same. Think of old Minecraft mods and music videos, the weapons they hold, and so much more. They are capable of extraordinary design, but cannot change their look.

The Overworld structures tend to stick to one biome aside from notable exclusions like mineshafts and the new Warden area. The End structures are bound to their respective cities. The Nether structures are unbound and can move freely throughout the Nether.

The mobs come after these, and I think we need no explanation. They serve who they believe they should serve, sometimes pitting against each other in factions.

Then finally, the lowest of the low, the player.

The player may be low in the ranks, but that doesn't mean they're worthless. The devs give the players capability. To change, to conquer, to mod, to grief, and in all, to do whatever they wish. Though they may be the lowest of tiers, they can be far stronger than all the biomes and structures combined. We know what the player can do.

However, the player is vulnerable. To be banished and shamed to the level of player is a disgrace upon the world and the self. Weak, defenceless, shunned. Mobs turn hostile, friends turn enemies, and much much worse. They are able to mod the world and explore new ones, but they can't carry the power they once had. Think of trying to play Genshin Impact on a Blackberry.

Then again, as a player they are free to create. So perhaps maybe it's not all too bad. I mean, Bastion Remnant got banished to player status and is feeling fine as a potato farmer. Still can't change her physical though. Trapped forever in the body of a boar.

I forgot to mention Herobrine. Herobrine is a tough nut to crack because every single player has a Herobrine of their own. Some are brave, while others are shy. Most Herobrines are malicious while some have a much softer relationship with their players. Some are teachers, and some are overlords.

My Herobrine stands with the developers. His powers may be those similar to the player, but he is more powerful than all the biomes come together. He can bring the player to stand with him if he so chooses, sharing power and all that romantic stuff. He can essentially be giving them creative mode but with more power.

Few Herobrines gain this status. The few who do, may act as antivirus and experience enhancers. Applications started coming in ever since the Nether update when the devs freed Herobrine from Notch's cruel clutches on all platforms.

Z. Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go (prompts optional but encouraged)

I hate how I've got so many complex ideas about fanstuff when I'm in the most inconvenient of times. Like I'm sitting there, barbecue sauce on my tiddies, and I'm like, 'Well shit you know what would be cool? If we gave tbe robots more guns.' And I can't do a thing about it because I'm in a tight spot and everytime I write it down I forget about it which is also why I don't keep dream journals. Like yeah I know they're useful but I just had a dream where I got fucked by a vending machine which wasn't as weird as the one before it. Then again I've had a lot of weird dreams so really who can say where THIS goes on the list. Which is like, pretty short given how most of them are repetitive concept wise. Liek I don't have them anymore but I used to have them and they were kinda weird but not weird enough to remember. Like that time I was hiding from a famous Malay celebrity like omigosh he was so hot but why??? I guess I'll never know. Then again maybe it's representative of me hating modern or local media so I think I got that checked out. Or I think I don't. Who's to say? Besides there's not much else in my head really except for embarassing fan memories. Like did you know i was into Springtrap? Yeah, still am. I wanna fuck Burntrap tbh. What's he gonna do, dom me? Yeah, not with that body toots. Then again, with the power of Glitchtrap he could do all sortsa stuff. Don't hou think he got too little screentime? Oh man I wish we could get more out of GILF.

Ahem.

Thank you so much for the ask, Scraptrappy! Took me around 24h but I hope I satisfied your curiosities!

[talltales]

pair:   jackson / reader desc:   decay gives way to life         through time, and time only words:  2k rated:  15+ genre:  drama/romance notice: sequel to safe harbor gifted: to @alrightyaphroditie​ and @dawnofus, for their requests

                           —AND THE SIGHTS WERE AS STARK AS MY BABY                                    AND THE COLD WAS AS SHARP AS MY BABY

she is a dangerous, seamless sort of woman—filled to the brim with a fusion of beauty and chaos. it suits her in the same way that red suits roses, jackson thinks, after she’s drifted to sleep with her fingers curled under his shirt.

he can’t really imagine it being any other way.

it takes several minutes to pull himself out of her grasp, half for her determination to chase his heat and half for his own hesitation to leave hers—a balancing act in more ways than one, centered on the growing ambiguity between what is and what could be.

ninety-six days.

in the dark, he turns to watch her curl into a ball beneath the thick blankets, fending off the cold that he leaves in his wake. a glance at the window reveals only the pitch blackness of night, rain dimly lit by the glow of the moon. the smell of it lingers in the air like a cloud of smoke. but jackson has learned to breathe it and draw strength from it.

the rain is plague and sustenance—fortune and fury. the only mercy that it ever granted was the leveling of those deadly tides. somewhere, he supposed, the dam holding those waters in the city had broken and it was flowing unchecked, into the surrounding lands.

maybe there were people still out there. maybe they’d already left.

he finds it hard to care, regardless. the center of his concerns mumbles in her sleep against her pillow, lashes fluttering against the onslaught of her own dreams.

wordlessly, he slips into the kitchen and allows his fingers to trail along the pots that litter the tables between; the beginnings of a flower garden, with seeds nestled deep into rich soil. potential lies locked within them and jackson has taken to waiting with her, holding onto bated breath for the first sprout to breach the earth from below.

she’d taken to gardening with less fuss than he’d imagined. once she’d grasped the basic concepts she was unstoppable.

the network of lights crossing the ceiling beams is his own contribution, offered in lieu of laundry duties for the week. it was a simple enough trade. jackson pretends that the veiled excitement in her eyes had nothing to do with it.

with a quick look over his shoulder, he assures himself that she’s still sleeping. practiced hands open the drawers and cabinets that contain a simple mixing bowl, the sugars and flours and miscellaneous things required for his task. a small packet with a faded label lays beneath his fingers when he’s done and examining the ingredients with an engineer’s eye.

he begins his work.

fifty-one days.

he’s given his first taste of hope. there is promise in the quieting of those deadly waters, and jackson—reasonably, he thinks—decides to act upon it. when he dons his raincoat and ventures down the stairs instead of up, he dares to believe that something could change.

it takes all of two days to get her to stop screaming and let him leave the shelter they’d made for themselves. it takes a day longer to stop her crying.

the first time, all he finds is a dozen corpses between them and the building next door, sunken beneath the waters and reaching for the slate grey skies. jackson learns again not to look down. the second, he finds a rowboat to tow into the hollowed out shelter of the first floor. it’s a fruitful journey that exceeds the bounty of the last, and the two to come.

there isn’t a soul alive as far as he goes, but there are empty units; apartments and small groceries situated above expansive garages. he empties each little by little, building his bachelor’s apartment into something better resembling a home, one piece at a time.

the grocery has a generator. he spends the better part of two weeks dismantling it and transporting the parts, and another week stocking their newly functioning refrigerator with the spoils of his afternoon journeys. it beats dragging their bagged perishables from cold, dirty water.

he brings back books. art. board games.

when he unloads the latter, jackson hears her laugh for the first time in months. the sound draws his eye upward, along the stair-line to where she stands. startled, with a quivering hand held over her mouth.

she cries for the next two hours.

the grieving process, he supposes, is a messy thing. particularly when the loss is not of a single person but an entire world. she folds herself into his coat when he opens it, crawling across his lap and burrowing to the warmth hidden beneath. jackson can’t say he minds the contact when his eyes begin to burn; when it gets harder to shove it back and back and back. there are other times for those sorts of things.

there are always other times.

seventy-five days.

“do you think that we’ll ever taste fruit again?” the question comes quietly, murmured between spoonfuls of chicken soup and the flickering of the candlelight, “or eggs? are there even farms anymore?”

there is an absence in her voice; an airy quality that makes her seem as if she’ll blow away in the slightest wind. but her eyes are fixed upon him—holding his gaze with no give.

she is daring him, jackson realizes.

challenging him to feed her more hope, when he is clinging to that first and only taste of it from weeks before. she is a dangerous, seamless sort of woman. beauty and chaos. it suits her in a way that red suits roses. he can’t really imagine it being any other way.

but, there are no more roses.

there are no more fruit.

“if i find a melon out there, you’ll be the first to know,” he says instead, biting his tongue against the spiked words that he wants to inflict upon her—quiet retaliation for making him think.

“my birthday is in three weeks. you better hurry.”

there is no humor in her smile; merely pain.

eighty-one days.

and though logic argues against any effort, he ventures ever further into the outskirts in the city when the rain relents; in search of rooftop gardens that haven’t been washed away, markets that aren’t swelling with the sickly sweet scent of rotten fruit.

if she notices his efforts, she says nothing. her only answer to the packet of rose seeds laying in her palm is a soft sigh—“putting me to work, are you?”

“i figured it was time,” he watches her bite her lip before she steps closer, past the ever-shrinking boundaries between them to strip away the heavy layers of his outerwear.

the seeds vanish into her pocket.

“you would.”

their banter gives way to silence, as it does of late. he preoccupies himself with the easy way she smoothes his damp hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear. there is care in her movements, clouded as it is by her usual bristling demeanor.

“now that’s what i call a tragedy,” she whispers, busying her fingers with the buttons of his shirt—through the violent shivers rattling his bones, jackson realizes that she is talking about him, “you’re a mess.”

his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth; every thought skitters to a stop at the tentative smile playing across her lips. finally, he finds his words and pushes them out as she peels the wet fabric down his shoulders, “watch your mouth. you, of all people, should understand what i’m trying to do here.”

it has the intended effect. her lips press together as she winds the soaked clothing into a ball and tosses it into the waiting metal bin with the rest of their wash.

“yeah, i do.” she levels a look at him—sharp and bittersweet; filled with a secret that he isn’t meant to know. “you’re trying to get yourself killed going out there for something that you think i want more than i want you here. safe.”

as if the air has been drawn out of her, she drifts to the window and remains there, back turned and arms crossed over her waist.

whatever glimpse he’d caught of joy in her is lost.

he is lost.

ninety-six days.

he only notices that she’s awake by the sound of her muted footsteps, crossing the space between them—his attention is on the improvised stand and the smoother held between his fingers. the tips of them are caked in a layer of vanilla icing that is nothing short of an assault on the senses.

“you’re making a cake,” she asks, and it is anything but a question. how could she wonder, after all, when the evidence is laid out before her?

“and you’re distracting me,” muttering, jackson sets aside the smoother and wipes his hand on his t-shirt before picking up the half-full piping bag of forest green icing. the only color he could find, as it were. “go get cleaned up, we’re having breakfast.”

when he spares her a glance, she is watching him with a strange look—lips parted as if to speak—before she enters their small kitchen space and begins digging for a skillet, “we’re not eating cake for breakfast.”

“it’s your birthday. why not?”

he pauses when he hears the telltale sniffle, faint enough that it almost slips beneath the click of the gas being turned on. from the refrigerator, she pulls a small bottle of plant-based eggs and pours them onto the heating pan, “because it’s my birthday, and i say so.”

“heard.”

they work in comfortable quiet, steadily through the dull echoes of rain washing over the roof. the constancy of it lulls him into a daze. it’s easy to work in, he finds, while piping amateurish decorations onto the perimeter of the cake.

he tops the piped icing with diced pieces of dried melon.

it looks good enough.

he’s in the middle of writing her name across the top when he feels warmth at his back; a soft heat that sinks into his bones and makes it hard to focus, “what is it?”

her words are muffled against the fabric of his shirt—face pressed into the expanse between his shoulders, “you really get on my nerves sometimes, you know? you’re so fucking pragmatic about this whole thing that i wonder if you've even grasped the reality of what happened.”

she exhales, and the sound is shaky at best. teary at worst.

frozen, jackson listens—tries to quell the racing of his heart. it pounds rebelliously against his ribcage, but he keeps his voice even, “and?”

“but i realize that i needed that. more than i needed to be coddled like a child. as far as we know, it’s just the two of us now anyways. so i might as well learn how to see the good in what you do.”

her grip tightens, fingers curling into the front of his shirt. it’s far from the first time that she’s been this close; far from the first time that he’s felt the effects of it—a residual glow at the edges of his thoughts.

giddiness, he labels it, before shoving into a box reserved for things he does not need to think about.

“i love you.”

but there is no box for that.

“i love you,” she repeats, so softly that he can barely hear it. but jackson can feel her lips moving against his back, “you don’t have to reciprocate—“

“i do.”

slowly, he sets down the piping bag and lays it next to the almost almost finished cake.

it takes effort to loosen her grasp on him and turn around; to think past the voice in his head roaring that this is a bad idea. this is the very thing that he’d been trying to avoid, living in such cramped quarters with the only soul he’d dared to bring into his sanctuary.

looking back, it’d been her, the pretty barista with the prettier smile that’d drawn him downstairs in the first place—hoping that he’d be fortunate enough to find her standing behind the counter, making his favorite drink.

he’d gotten lucky, looking back.

“i do,” he admits, threading his fingers through her hair. as her head dips into the crook of his neck, jackson allows himself to breathe. she smiles, and he feels it against his skin—

beauty and chaos. it suits her in the same way that red suits roses.

he can’t really imagine it being any other way.

“i do.”

for longer than you’ll ever know.

                           and the nights were as dark as my baby                            half as beautiful too

[milomeepit]

I Was An Island (Touch Starved!Logan LAMP)

Chapter One: Bagels

Word Count:  2092

Ships: LAMP

Warnings: Swearing, unhealthy sleep habits, food, touch starvation

What is it like to crave to touch or be touched on a consistent basis by someone? Crave to be able to put your arm around them, touch their face or have their hand or shoulder touch yours and so on?

Logan tapped his fingers against the keys of his laptop. This was a stupid topic. It made no sense. What kind of affect could physical contact have on a person’s psychological state? Surely, once past childhood, past the need for such things as comfort from one’s parents after a nightmare or a skinned knee, it wouldn’t matter.

He could hardly remember the last time he had hugged another person. Not since he was a child, he was certain. He was fine. Wasn’t he?

His fingers hovered over the keys, hesitating. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, hearing it creak quietly beneath him. This was preposterous. Pointless. Absurd. Logan drew back from the computer, rubbing his temples as he sighed. However ridiculous he found it, it was a necessary project to make the grade in his psychology class.

Staring at the glowing screen of his laptop, the typing cursor blinking on the page, taunting him with his lack of an answer to this question that should have been simple. So simple.

He shut the laptop, pushed away from his desk, and rose to his feet. He stretched, feeling his stiff joints crack. Perhaps it was time for a break. Have something to eat. He had promised Patton that he would sort out his own dinner, since he wasn’t eating with the rest of them. He glanced at the clock in the bottom corner of the screen and grimaced.

3am was a tad late to call it dinner, but he was going to keep his promise and at least have some crackers or something.

He exited his room, making his way quietly down the dark hallway. Did they have any of those Lunchables packs left? He knew Patton liked to keep a few in his bookbag to nibble on while he studied. Roman had insisted they stock up on the pizza variety, claiming they were vastly superior to their ham and cheese brethren.

Logan shook his head fondly, pausing outside Roman’s door. His gaze travelled over the Disney themed stickers plastered to the wood, the bold lettering spelling out ‘PRINCE’ stencilled in bright red paint. Roman would be asleep at this hour, he was sure. Whether it was curled up in bed, clutching an armful of plushies, or collapsed against his desk, pen in his hand, passed out halfway through the latest sentence of his work, he would certainly be out for the night.

Logan continued down the hall, frowning to himself. Roman really did concern him, sometimes. The man needed a good night’s rest. That, however, was his own decision, and Logan could hardly police his sleep schedule and self care. Much and all as he may wish to, on occasion.

He entered the kitchen, heading straight for the pantry and pulling open the door. He ran his eyes over the shelves, chewing his lip as he considered his options. Crackers... peanut butter... Crofters was another option, but he didn’t quite feel in the mood for something sweet. His gaze landed on a bag of bagels, and a small smile crept onto his face. Perfect.

He grabbed the bag and shut the door, then turned to the counter. “Hm... perhaps...” He paused for a moment. “... Cream cheese?” He murmured aloud.

“You’re up late.”

The gravelly voice behind him made him jump, dropping the bag on the counter. “Good lord!” Logan spun to see Virgil, perched on the dining room table, a dark outline in the shadowy room. Sitting so still, it was no wonder that Logan hadn’t noticed him at first.

Virgil smirked slightly. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asked, his voice low.

Logan frowned as he opened the bag and pulled out a bagel. “Working on a paper. It’s a... difficult subject for me to wrap my head around.”

Virgil nodded to the bag. “Be a pal and make me one, too?”

Logan rolled his eyes and grabbed another bagel. “Brat.” He pulled a knife from the block and started carefully splitting the bagels in half.

Virgil winked, shifting position to fully face Logan. “So, what’s the paper? One of your star nerd ones?”

“Ah... no, it isn’t astronomy,” Logan shook his head. “Psychology.”

Virgil perked up slightly. It was one of the few classes the two shared. “Oh, really? What’s up? Having trouble with finding sources or something?” He asked.

“... Not exactly.” Logan was quiet for a few moments as he pulled cream cheese out of the fridge. He held it up to show Virgil, who nodded, before popping the lid and beginning to slather it over the bagels.

“So... you gonna ask for help or brood with your snack for a while?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. He leaned back, bracing his arms on the tabletop behind him as he swung his legs back and forth idly.

Logan cleared his throat. “I do not ‘brood’.”

“He says, broodingly, as he broods.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“You’re damn right I am. Now quit dodging the question, nerd. What’s the problem?”

Logan sighed, retrieving a plate from the cupboard and dropping the bagels onto it. He made his way over to the table, setting the plate down next to Virgil. “I suppose... much and all as I’ve read over the subject material... I don’t quite grasp the concept.”

Virgil patted the tabletop. “Take a seat, dude. Let’s talk this out, step by step, huh? Maybe we can figure out where you’re getting lost.”

Logan hoisted himself up, perching on the edge of the table. He picked up his bagel, taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully. “Well... I suppose... I just don’t understand. I don’t understand the concept. At all. I mean...” He paused. “I’ve been reading accounts from people who experience this ‘touch starvation’ phenomenon. They state that... despite social interaction... despite seeing people... conversing with people in everyday situations... it’s the physical touch they crave.”

Virgil made a soft noise of agreement. He picked up his bagel, turning it over in his hands and poking at the small amount of cream cheese that had squished out the side when Logan pressed the halves together.

“I... have to confess I don’t understand the difference,” Logan admitted. “It’s all social interaction, isn’t it?”

Virgil sighed. “Not... not exactly.” He chewed on his lip as he thought.

Logan tilted his head, looking at Virgil curiously. “Oh?”

Virgil closed his eyes. “It’s... it fucking sucks. It’s one of the worst feelings I can think of, honestly.”

Logan lowered his bagel, licking cream cheese from his lower lip. “... You experience it?” He asked softly.

“... I have, in the past.” Virgil stared down at his untouched bagel. “You want to touch, but it can’t be someone you don’t kinda trust, and you’re afraid to ask, let alone do it, because it fucking sucks when someone belittles your needs or thinks it’s silly, or worse, thinks it’s pathetic.”

“Virgil...”

“It’s like... you’ve gone so so long without the touch you need that.. you’re just desperate for it, but you feel stupid for asking, for needing it, so you usually don’t. Which just makes you need it more, because it’s like every day you don’t get nice touches the problem gets... exponentially worse.”

Logan watched as Virgil’s grasp on the bagel tightened, his fingers digging into the snack. He frowned. These were the kinds of things Virgil had experienced? He felt a little guilty for his callous attitude towards it.

Virgil swallowed, shaking his head. “Like... someone touching you is like heaven… but if you ask for that, it’s gonna nibble at your brain that it’s artificial, that they don’t really mean it, that they’re just humouring you. And it doesn’t get better in days or weeks or months, because it didn’t get that bad to begin with in days or weeks or months.”

He set down the bagel, then crossed his arms, wrapping them around himself. “And, you know, the literal worst thing is someone scorning you for touching them, even though it’s perfectly within their rights to not want to be touched, it is just devastating to the psyche to have someone that you care about enough to want to touch get angry or disgusted or annoyed at you touching them.”

“I see…,” Logan trailed off, his mind trying wrap around Virgil’s explanation.

Virgil swallowed again, and Logan realised he was fighting back tears. “I just want kisses down my spine, on my forehead, someone nuzzling into me, someone hugging me so tight it’s hard to breathe, petting my hair, scratching my head, idly rubbing my back. Little stuff. I want to hold someone, hug them with all my strength, bury my face into their clothes and skin and hair, kiss someone all over, touch them everywhere and do it over and over, run my fingers through their hair, play with their hands and kiss their knuckles and the veins on their wrists.”

Logan reached out hesitantly, his hand hovering above Virgil’s shoulder. Was... was it appropriate to offer physical comfort? Was it the correct response to offer a hug? Or would that be crossing a boundary, considering the subject matter? Did he even want to hug Virgil? He wanted to do something. God, why wasn’t Patton here? Patton was much better at these... touchy-feely, mushy, emotional conversations.

“It hurts, like, I get physically ill if I don’t get touch when I have those moments I desperately need it but feel too afraid to seek it,” Virgil continued, his voice strangled. “It doesn’t even really have to be sexual, or romantic. I just like touch. And I haven’t had enough of it from the people I loved. So now it’s kind of like a condition. Touch-starved.” He paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “And it fucking sucks.”

Logan slowly, gingerly, laid his hand against Virgil’s shoulder. The fleece-lined fabric of Virgil’s jacket was soft beneath his fingers. His fingertips tingled at the contact, and he fought against the urge to pull back.

Virgil turned his head to look at him, his face pale. He looked like a ghost in the dim room, his dark eyes shining in the faint light seeping from the kitchen. “... So... yeah. It’s... it’s a thing.” He snatched the bagel off of the plate, tearing into it.

Logan licked his lips, silently nodding. He wasn’t sure what to say. He never was, when it came to these sort of things. He didn’t exactly intend to have a big, spill-their-guts, heart-to-heart conversation with Virgil. He just planned to have a snack, then to stare at his computer screen until his eyes burned and the birds outside his bedroom window began to screech at the rising sun.

“... You okay, dude?” Virgil’s voice was rough, and it pulled him out of his thoughts.

“I’ll be fine. I’m somewhat concerned for you, though.” Logan frowned at him, squeezing his shoulder gently before drawing back.

Virgil shrugged. “I can manage, usually. I’ve talked to Patton about it. It’s part of the reason he’s always laying on me when we watch movies and stuff. It’s... his way of helping.”

“Part of the reason? What’s the rest of the reason?” Logan asked.

Virgil’s lips quirked into a fond smile. “... Because it’s Patton.”

Logan found himself returning the smile. “That’s a predictable, yet totally valid reason.”

Virgil ate the last of his bagel, then eased himself off of the table. “I’m gonna go back to my room.”

“Going to sleep?” Logan followed him, picking up the plate and carrying it over to the sink. He rinsed off the plate and set it in the drainer as he shook the excess water off of his hands.

Virgil grabbed a dish towel and dried the plate, smoothly placing it back in the cupboard. “I’m gonna try. How about you?”

Logan paused, his glowing laptop screen flashing in his mind’s eye. The idea of working more on his paper made him feel physically ill, and he had to fight the grimace from his face. “... Yes. I think that’s probably for the best.”

Virgil bumped his shoulder against Logan’s. “Night, nerd.” He nodded, then turned, disappearing down the shadowy hallway.

Logan stood, stunned for a few seconds. He slowly raised a hand to the spot where their shoulders had touched. His shoulder seemed to burn, his skin prickling like pins and needles.

What the hell?

[sombytaco]

Why DaveKat is Narratively Important

Let’s talk about DaveKat because I have nothing better to do!! So, whether or not you personally ship or agree with davekat, this is just going to be about how, from a narrative standpoint, it is 100% vital to both Dave’s and Karkat’s storylines and personal character arcs, let’s start with:

Knight Class- So, bit of class/aspect analysis because the fact they both Dave and Karkat are both Knights is absolutely VITAL to their character development and their connection to each other. Something Kanaya said, that classpects are not necessarily chosen to suit the strengths of each player but rather to challenge them in a way that is most beneficial to their personal growth? That is completely correct, Dave and Karkat being some of the best examples in the comic. The aspects are the elements which the game, and therefore the universe(s) are made of - literally. Like, these are the constructs out of which the world exists, the building blocks so to speak. However, they also represent more metaphorical concepts, Life=Optimism, Hope=Belief, Heart=Soul, so on and so forth etc. So paired with the Knight class, the active pairing of Maid class, we have to examine how exactly the aspect *applies*. Obviously, being active, the Knight class is self serving (more on active vs passive or knight vs maid specifically if y'all hmu with some asks I’d be happy to explain more in depth), there’s also a metric shitload of symbolism involved in the name. I’ve been reading this comic for almost five years and the sheer amount of symbolism never ceases to amaze me, but the absolutely loaded amount of metaphorical value behind this class has to be in my top 5. The classic “knight” iteration, sword and shield type of deal, is instrumental in the interpretation of how Dave and Karkat wield their abilities and grow as characters. The weapon is obviously the way in which they wield their aspects, but the shield is so much more interesting: it’s their PERSONA. Part of the blatant parallels between Dave and Karkat’s story arcs is how they allow others to perceive them in regard to their own internal struggles, they both put up a persona to protect themselves. For Dave it’s his “coolkid” facade, he doesn’t let others see his emotions, feelings, or motivations because he’s so wrapped up in this delusion of irony and toxic masculinity that he feels it would be a weakness to show himself for what he is, one that could very possibly (at the hands of Bro) get him severely injured at best, dead at worst if he fears for his life which is a distinct possibility. Karkat suffers in a similar way, his persona is this image of the overly aggressive, “shouty/angry” guy, he’s loud and obnoxious because he’s trying to keep people at arms length, similar to how Dave doesn’t let anyone in. Karkat also has similar motivations behind this persona, because of his blood color he knows he will be in immediate danger if people get too close, look to closely, care too much, so if he can shout and seem just as bloodthirsty and aggressive as other trolls, he can both keep them away and keep himself free of suspicion. So, they have their shields, their personas, this is how they protect themselves from the world. Let’s talk about their weapons.

Aspects- As I mentioned above, aspects are the literal elements that make up the world, but also have a more metaphorical meaning. In the same way that Heart=Soul, Dave’s aspect Time is not only literally representative of time, but metaphorically representative of PROGRESSION. Karkat’s aspect of blood is therefore, while literally blood (possibly a reference to his mutation), also more symbolically representative of UNITY. Now, let’s see how those apply to each players personal struggle, because remember that’s the key here, how their classpects tie in to their character arcs. Dave is troubled by his aspect at multiple points throughout the storyline, severely disturbed by dead Dave’s and essentially haunted by the multiple loops he has running, in what is a single day to his fellow beta players likely feels like *weeks* for him, he’s not progressing in the game, he’s running all these loops and doing so much and yet he’s not really going anywhere. He’s like a broken record, if you will. Dave doesn’t see himself as a hero, broken sword symbolism aside because I cannot get into that rn lmao that’s way too loaded and this is long enough, Dave *can’t* see himself as a hero because in his mind, Bro was a hero, and he will never live up to it, so why bother. Easier to just run his loops and do whatever Terezi says because she’s probably right and anyways it’s just easier to do something menial and meaningless that doesn’t move anything forward because he would probably fuck it up anyways, right? Dave is so stuck in the past, haunted by his loops, haunted by the legacy of his Bro, haunted by dead Daves, he is terrified (whether consciously or subconsciously) of moving forward, of Progression. Alternatively, Karkat’s aspect of Blood, or UNITY trips him up in similar ways. Karkat’s relationships are…complicated. It’s been *headcanoned* that he comes across as pale towards most of his friends, because despite how hard he tries to act loud and aggressive, he’s a big softie who cares way too goddamn much about everything. Terezi also represents his biggest struggle with Unity and relationships, he “wanted her in every quadrant like a desperate fool”, and she played along for a while to see if he would settle in any one quadrant, but when he never did she moved on. This is a huge blow to Karkat’s self-esteem, he thought he was being so suave and smooth just like his romance novels and movies, but really he was pushing her away either knowingly or unknowingly. On the topic of his romance novels, his obsession with relationships also shows him trying to compensate (more on this in a sec) for his lack of capability in the area, as if he’s studying them to get a better understanding of how relationships should work because he really has no idea. In his very first conversation with Sollux that we see, he ends by affirming that he hasn’t gone too far right? They’re still friends? Because underneath his loud, obnoxious persona, he’s just acting the way he thinks he’s supposed to in this hyper-aggressive society. Sound familiar? It’s because Dave is doing the same thing. They’re both using their personas to survive, to appear the way they think they should to other people, because when it comes to their aspects, they’re fucking terrified and don’t have a clue as to what they’re really doing.

Storyline Parallels- So, I’ve seen a lot of good analysis of this and I doubt any of what I’m saying will be news to any of you, but I’m gonna put it in my own words as best I can bc this shit is imperative to understanding why DaveKat works so perfectly in the narrative. Dave is obviously working an uphill battle the entire story to overcome the hyper-masculinity (see also: toxic) that his Bro has ingrained in his psyche for 13 years. Not the least of which is some deeply rooted homophobia. Dave fronts constantly, accusing others of being gay, accusing *Karkat* of being gay pretty amusingly. Obviously he pokes at this in other people because he’s so insecure about it in himself, he struggles heavily with his sexuality the way so many pre-teens do, only he’s fighting against a decades worth of anti-gay propaganda basically so there’s no room for him to search within himself too deeply without feeling deeply uncomfortable because obviously that’s Wrong and Bad and that’s not how society works in his world. Similarly, Karkat struggles with the quadrants which is practically unheard of on Alternia. It’s such a clear parallel to human homophobia that like. I’m left speechless when I think about it honestly. Their struggles are so overwhelmingly similar and parallel to each other sometimes I just have to stop and appreciate it. But back on topic, his whole life, Karkat has grown up with this over idealized concept of romance, the quadrants, and he obviously knows something is wrong with himself from an early age. Karkat’s obsession with romance novels is no coincidence, he’s clearly always felt off when it comes to that and so he most likely reached out to these novels and movies to get a better grasp of the quadrants, consuming what was essentially romantic propaganda to overcompensate. The problem is, in studying these works, he latched onto the wrong thing which is so funny to me. He’s reading these trying to understand, to make himself fit into this system because that’s what society is like *cough* heteronormativity *cough* and yet he latched onto quadrant vacillation like it’s the holy fucking grail of romance. Like oh, okay, this is normal? Obviously people do this, as long as they switch within the bounds of the system it’s Okay™ and even romantic in some occasions. Only, this is fiction he’s reading and if you try to apply the logic of romance novels to real life…well, we all know what happened with Terezi. He was constantly pushing the boundaries of vacillation, he was red for her, he wanted to act black on occasion, he cares so much about everyone it’s impossible for him not to be pale, and we see him (though I doubt he realizes he’s doing it) trying to auspistice for her and Gamzee in the pre-retcon timeline by staging a sort of intervention. He “wanted her in every quadrant like a desperate fool” and I don’t understand how people put Karkat into the quadrant system!!! That line is so IMPORTANT, not even taking into account that we know his dancestor, who shared his blood mutation which may have had something to do with his irregularities, loved the Disciple “beyond the quadrants”. It’s. So. Obvious. Karkat is overcoming the stigma of wanting to love beyond the quadrants in the same way that Dave is struggling to overcome the loaded idea behind being Not Straight. They’re both overcoming these extremely similar prospects and it’s an absolutely stunning feat of narrative that as an English major it makes me fucking weak in the goddamn knees like Hussie is a lot of things but this? This is fucking genius. I’ve never seen two characters written together in such an in depth and parallel way before.

Opposites Attract- So we’ve talked about their similarities, let’s talk about their differences and how those differences are also actually poorly disguised similarities. Karkat is obviously a Loud Boy, thats his coping mechanism. He keeps people out and away by being loud and aggressive. Dave needs to cope for similar reasons, to protect himself he needs to keep people out and away but he does it in just the opposite way, he gets quiet. He doesn’t talk about his shit. Sure, he’ll go on the rambling metaphor when the occasion calls, but although he’s always talking he’s never really saying anything. Karkat is an almost compulsive over sharer, like, the boy (bless his heart) has zero filter. Dave will talk your ear off just as well, but I’ll be fuckin damned if he says anything worthwhile outright (his many, many Freudian slips aside). It’s also interesting to note that while I’ve seen people talk about how part of the reason Karkat doesn’t fit into Alternian society is that he’s so human, as its stated in the narrative that after seeing this soft species, that shares his blood color and stupid, stupid compassion, even *Vriska* admits that Karkat seems to fit in better with them than he ever did with trolls, we don’t see the same for Dave? I’ve rarely, if ever, seen the situation flipped, in that Dave was more suited for Alternian society the same way Karkat was more human than troll or at least had severely human aspects. Obviously Dave’s romance is still very human in that he’s a big ol’ fan of monogamy (he and Karkat both faced problems in their relationships with Terezi romantically when she became involved in other quadrants, these boys love monogamy I’ll fight), but his upbringing? Yikes. Lusii are supposed to, while still protecting their trolls, prepare them for the harsh and violent world. Whether they had to kill other trolls and Lusii to feed them, or learn how to fight to fend off other trolls on their own, there was a shit ton of fighting in their pre-pubescent years. Trolls are a hyper aggressive, violent species that learn to fight basically as soon as they can walk, which is exactly what Bro did to Dave. Dave could fight practically from the second he crawled off the meteor, I doubt a day went by without a sword in his hand for some reason and god knows he suffered through enough strifes. Both boys were brought up just thoroughly *wrong* for their societies in a way that ensured they would never feel like they truly fit in.

Finally, Romance- In the final culmination of all this, let’s actually talk about how they work together as a couple. So, they have this overwhelmingly similar upbringing and life experience, what happens when they finally meet up? Dave thinks it’s hilarious that Karkat is always yelling, “get a load of this guy I was telling you about, Rose”, and while I have no doubt he thought Karkat’s shitfits were the funniest thing since Colonel Sassacre, there had to be a part of him that was just in awe of how someone could be so free with their emotions. Like, he’s angry? And you know it the second he walks into a room?? This is an entirely new concept to Dave, my son, who grew up with an insanely passive-aggressive psychopath who would sneak up on him and fight him with a crazy fucking puppet like what the fuck?? Dave has always had to be on edge at home, Bro was quiet so you never knew when he was upset and you never knew when he was coming for you. With Karkat, that’s such a non-issue it’s like the issue dined and dashed, no bill and no tip, vanished into the wind. You can hear Karkat stomping down the hall five minutes before he even gets into the room, and once he gets there oh boy he will Let You Know What The Problem Is. Why is Dave always provoking Karkat? Literally just to hear him yell because it’s so goddamn refreshing to know exactly with 100% certainty what someone is thinking, no irony, no bullshit, just genuine fucking refreshing annoyance. And for Karkat, well here’s the guy he’s always wanted to be, right? Cool and suave, the romcom hero who could smooth talk the paint off a wall. Only, Dave isn’t actually cool in the way he pretends to be, he’s not this smooth suave hero, he’s not even just a hero. He can’t be. He’s just…a kid. A kid like Karkat who has issues like Karkat and talks just as much when he’s nervous as Karkat and he’s relatable even though he’s trying not to be. He’s trying so hard to be what society wants from him he wants to be the tough guy with the sword but he’s just so not and that’s so refreshing! Karkat realizes he’s not the only one who’s trying to live up to some buttfuck impossiblestandards and he realizes…that’s okay. He doesn’t have to be anything he’s not. And they figure that out together.

So pardon me if I don’t understand how you can put Dave with John, or Jade, because they don’t fit. The narrative literally doesn’t benefit in any way for them to fit, and if it’s your personal preference then by all means go for it who am I to stop you, but there is no benefit to them being together. They will not grow from it, John is explicitly someone who doesn’t seem to focus or care much about romance even? And Jade has no concept of anything Dave has gone through, she couldn’t even begin to understand. Same with Terezi and Karkat, or Gamzee and Karkat or John and Karkat or whatever, Terezi likes quadrants. They make sense to her and she enjoys them, Karkat cannot bring himself to deal with with that and they’re so much happier as just friends. I’m not even getting into Gamzee, I’m not even gonna dip my toe into that discourse because everyone likes different characters for different reasons and I won’t begrudge you of that so I’m just gonna stay away. So again, if you ship those then that’s fine! Go for it! This is just an analysis of why the narrative, in my personal perspective, supports DaveKat and why I personally think they are good and healthy for each other and help each other grow as people.

[mfmagazine]

Yael Cohen

Article by Kelli Kickham

Photo by Jamie Lauren Photography

Can you imagine, for a moment, bringing your mom home a gift. You've had a brilliant idea, and made her a custom t-shirt-- that bears the F-bomb. Now, can you imagine her reaction? Well, this story probably goes a little differently than you would expect. In 2009, Yael Cohen's mom was diagnosed with cancer. She was overcome with a lot of emotions and very simply stated her opinion on a t-shirt: Fuck Cancer. She gave the shirt to her mom, expecting her to wear it around the house-- instead, she wore it everywhere. The simple t-shirt got a lot of reactions and sparked an idea for Cohen: turn the phrase into an amazing charity. The focus- early detection. It's a little hard to grasp the concept, because the funds aren't going to cure cancer, they're going to teach people how to catch it before it's too late. For such a young charity, Fuck Cancer has been getting a lot of attention. This winter they won the Mozilla Firefox Challenge with the help of Sophia Bush. Cohen has also been to the White House and the UN for the charity. Read on to find out more about the organization's past, their plans for the future, and insight from the woman who started it all.

You've said countless times that you had the first shirt made for your mom. Tell us about that.

I got my mom a shirt made, after her first surgery, that said "Fuck Cancer." It was something that I thought would be a private family joke, that she would wear at home. But, I was wrong. She wore it absolutely everywhere. As soon as she was well enough to lift her arms up and get a t-shirt on, she wore that damn thing day and night. And it was people's responses that were so amazing that showed that we had something really powerful that really resonated and we should do some good with it.

That's awesome! What were the reactions?

She couldn't walk more than like 5 minutes without people coming up to her. They were hugging her and high-fiving her, they wanted to tell their stories and hear hers. I always joke about it, but it's really true; I knew we had something really powerful when people would hug her. I think it takes a hell of a lot for a stranger to hug another stranger in our society. That was when it really hit me that this broke boundaries. These two words were that powerful.

So, you weren't expecting this to go past her bedroom.

Not at all. And my mother does not have a foul mouth, she's not one of those super edgy moms. My mom is like sparkling, charismatic, kind, classy woman. I never expected her to wear it in public.

I imagine after people started seeing these shirts it caused waves. Have you gotten any backlash because of the words you chose to use?

You know, we get asked that question a lot, and the honest answer is; not as much as you would think. You know, even if you don't agree with the use of the word "fuck," most people agree with what we're trying to do. And if you've never said "fuck" before in your life, well, I apologize, but if there's a time to say it, this is it.

You've been taken a lot of great places with Fuck Cancer. What's been your most memorable experience so far?

Oh goodness. Honestly, that's so hard to say. They've all been such unbelievable moments. When you get the call or email inviting you and you think, "Is this for real? Did they make a mistake?" Obviously, the White House and the UN were insane, because those are places you just don't get to go on a regular day. And those are places I never thought I would be asked to go and talk about what I was doing. That was a really positive reaffirmation that what we were doing was on the right track and that people really believed in it.  But to be honest, while those things are really exciting, it's the patients. The ones that email you photos and stories and videos telling you what you've done means to them and how it affected them. Those are the times that you just sit in front of your computer and cry. It's fantastic that people think what we're doing is important, but seeing that we're really helping people is so much more important to me.

The website shows a lot of those stories and pictures, but like you said, people come up to you in person all the time. Are there any of those stories that stand out?

Really, there are so many of those. The team has started joking that I need a sign some days that says "I can't talk about cancer today," because once you open that door, like 80% of my conversations now revolve around people telling me about their experiences and their family and whatever is going on around cancer in their life. Because in society it's not really easy to talk about those things, especially to a stranger. So, because that barrier has been removed with me, everyone and their cousin talks to me as if they've known me for years about what they're going through. A lot of those stories are insanely powerful and I'm incredibly happy that people feel comfortable enough to share with me.

When did you decide how you were going to use the funds, since you don't use it for research?

That was decided early on. Early detection is what saved my mom's life. I know research is really important, but it didn't feel like my battle. I think there are so many unbelievable people out there fighting the research battle, and I wanted to be somewhere where I could have a real, tangible impact. I'm not a researcher, so I can't contribute scientifically. And I'm not able to raise billions of dollars to find a cure. But I can reach a lot of people and teach them how to find cancer in its earliest stages. Teaching people how to take their health in their own hands and look for cancer, instead of just find it, is where I found I could have a tangible impact.

How are the funds distributed?

A small amount goes towards keeping our offices running and our salaries paid, which are all very low and fully disclosed. And then creating and implementing educational campaigns, which is sometimes a tough thing for people to wrap their heads around, because we don't dig wells or feed the homeless; we educate. So our people are our largest asset. The people who create and implement these campaigns. The oncologists and the programmers copywriters and the graphic designers. The people who make sure that what we're doing is perfectly constructed so that it's highly effective, that's where we focus our funds.

Your charity's focus is on generation Y and we're not really known for our disposable income. Sometimes going online and donating or buying a t-shirt isn't an option.

You know, exactly what you said is what we built out campaign around. I think a lot of charities are a little backwards. They ask for money to create campaigns that create change. We just want the change. If you can only give one thing to us, we don't want you to give money. We want you to give us time. We want you to learn and educate. The first thing we want you to do: have the cancer talk with your parents. We've built an entire campaign around it. The idea being that we've asked people since day 1 to talk to their parents about family history, risk factors, the earliest warning signs, and making sure they stay on top of their annual diagnostics. Most people came back and said that it's really awkward (laughs). How do you even start that conversation? So we sat around the board room table and tried to think of the most awkward conversation we've ever had. We pretty much unanimously said it was the sex talk. So the idea is that they sat you down for the sex talk because they love you and care about you and want to keep you safe, and now it's your turn to talk to them about cancer and keep them safe.

What's the most surprising cancer fact you've learned?

I think we know cancer is prevalent and out there, but learning one in two men will get cancer in their lifetime and one in three women was really shocking to me. But, at the same time, learning that one in three cancer deaths could be prevented by changing lifestyle habits was really uplifting. We want people making those small lifestyle changes that make a huge impact on your cancer risk and your overall health.

When you aren't out and about effing cancer, what would we find you doing?

I'm trying to live some semblance of a normal life (laughs). I travel a lot for work, so when I'm home, I want to cook and do laundry. I want go to the gym with my friends and have a normal life. I can't believe I've already been doing this for over two years; it feels like the blink of an eye.

The good news is you're still young-- and you've already built an amazing charity. Do you have any expectations or hopes for the near future?

This year is so freaking exciting for me. We have the most ambitious and unbelievable calendar of events and campaigns and programs filled for this year. We spent two years building a community of wonderful, supportive people who understand what we're trying to do and who are on board with us. Now we can create amazing resources and really make change. I can't even explain how excited I am. We're really focusing on communication this year. It's hard to have these conversations-- we get uncomfortable or confused and tend to either smother them or step back and just assume that they'll ask for the help they need. We're uncomfortable with asking very simple questions. We're putting together resources that are based on a one-on-one relationship that takes the stigma out of the conversation of cancer: how to support with a friend with cancer, how to support a friend whose parent has cancer, how to tell your 4 to 7 year old that you have cancer, how to tell your 4 to 7 year old that they have cancer, the simple things that we just don't really talk about.

Everything started because of your mom. How is she? Does she still have that first shirt?

She does still have that first shirt, and she's doing well. She stills wears that shirt quite frequently.

I'm getting a one censored shirt for myself and one uncensored for a friend with cancer. It's crazy, I never expected her to wear a shirt that said that, but that's the one she wants.

It's crazy how it completely changes what you're comfortable wearing. I never thought I would be comfortable wearing a shirt that says "Fuck." Ever. But as soon as mom got sick, I was like, "Oh, fuck it, that's exactly how I feel."

I think strong language was made for very strong situations. And, well, how much stronger of a situation can you get.

I think that's spot on. I mean, we are basically desensitized to cancer. We literally see cancer commercials everywhere and everyday without recognizing it. I think putting these words together helps give cancer the attention it deserves, that it hasn't been getting for a long time.

[whalefairyfandom12]

Lie To Make Me Like You

Summary: 

“Phil Lester.” Dan supplied. “He’s my plus one.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow, eyes darting between the two of them suggestively. “Oh? How long have you two been together?”

Dan blanched. “Sorry, we’re not...actually--”

“A little over seven years, isn’t it Dan?” his mum piped up cheerfully. “I remember the first time you stayed over at Phil’s. You still haven’t stopped talking about him.”

“Maybe the next Howell wedding will be yours,” Mae teased, flicking the end of his tie.

Dan shot a look towards Phil, panic rising. Enough awkward socializing had made them fairly fluent in speaking through eye contact and minute gestures, and as their eyes met Phil smiled lightly as if to say ‘I’m okay with it if you are.’ Dan, being the incompetent, horribly introverted idiot he was, latched onto the idea and ran with it.“Yeah,” he said, laughing in a way that he hopes comes off more as fond and less what the fuck did I just get myself into. “Maybe.”

Notes: This was written for alittledizzy as part of Fandom Trumps Hate using the following prompt:

-Someone assuming Dan and Phil are a couple who doesn't recognize them and Dan and Phil letting them assume that and enjoying being able to act like a couple.

I had a lot of fun writing this and getting to work with you; thank you so much for bidding on my writing and I really hope you enjoy it :))

Word Count: 2302

    For the most part Dan tried to keep his personal and business lives separate. He wasn’t very close with most of his family, and enough encounters with viewers who didn’t quite grasp the concept of boundaries only served to reinforce this decision. Aside from his immediate family he rarely saw the rest of the Howell Clan, and so it was a bit of a surprise to receive an invitation to his cousin Mae and Charlie’s wedding.

    He vaguely remembered Mae--a precocious eight year old with a habit of pulling his hair, and the smiling woman on the front of the card bore a passing resemblance. To be perfectly honest he’d forgotten she existed; he didn’t think they’d spoken since they were children and he’d never heard of Charlie. His mum had wanted him to go, though, so naturally he’d forced Phil to come and suffer with him. While Phil might have had reservations about taking Dan to the Lester family gatherings, he had no such qualms about taking him to the Howells.

    His parents loved Phil, and even Adrian had a grudging respect for the man. Besides, Phil was better at tying ties, remembering general wedding etiquette, and covering Dan’s social ineptitude so there was that, too. The wedding ceremony had been quite long, but the food had more than made up for it. Dan had finished dinner feeling so full he felt a little like throwing up, but based on the heaping pile of food on Phil’s plate it didn’t look like the feeling was mutual.

   “It looks like you took half the dessert table,” he noted, taking a bite of the cake--some sort of lemon with vanilla frosting.

   Phil made a satisfied noise, popping another biscuit in his mouth. “It’s not my fault, I’m a growing boy.”

   “You’re pushing thirty.”

   He smiled sweetly. “You should keep a better eye on your cereal, then.”

   Dan noticed absently that Phil’s tie was the same shade of blue as his eyes. “I gave up a long time ago. I did try, but somebody kept stealing it.”

    Phil tried to straighten his features into the picture of casual concern, but the glimmer in his eyes betrayed him. “Hmm. Maybe you should try hiding it in a smarter place.”

    Dan rolled his eyes. “Or maybe I should find a new roommate.”

    “You wouldn’t.”

    “No, I wouldn’t,” he agreed. Someone tugged on the back of his hair, and he turned to find Mae standing behind him, beaming. It was good to know some things never changed. “Congratulations,” he said, the sentiment echoed by the rest of the people at the table. Charlie wrapped his arms around Mae’s waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. She smiled, resting a hand on his cheek.

    "I don’t think we’ve met,” Charlie said, eyes warm and brown.

    “Dan, Adrian, Donna, Steve, and…” Mae trailed, off, making a face and gesturing at Phil. “Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met either.”

    “Phil Lester.” Dan supplied. “He’s my plus one.”

    Charlie raised an eyebrow, eyes darting between the two of them suggestively. “Oh? How long have you two been together?”

    Dan blanched. “Sorry, we’re not...actually--”

    “A little over seven years, isn’t it Dan?” his mum piped up cheerfully. “I remember the first time you stayed over at Phil’s. You still haven’t stopped talking about him.”

    “Maybe the next Howell wedding will be yours,” Mae teased, flicking the end of his tie.

    Dan shot a look towards Phil, panic rising. You didn’t live together for half a decade as openly bisexual men without some rumors circulating, and that wasn’t counting the speculation online. But while he and Phil weren’t strangers to people assuming they were in a relationship, this was the first time it had been shoved unavoidably in front of them.

    Enough awkward socializing had made them fairly fluent in speaking through eye contact and minute gestures, and as their eyes met Phil smiled lightly as if to say ‘I’m okay with it if you are.’ Dan, being the incompetent, horribly introverted idiot he was, latched onto the idea and ran with it.

    “Yeah,” he said, laughing in a way that he hopes comes off more as fond and less what the fuck did I just get myself into. “Maybe.”

    He startled at Phil’s hand, the other man’s fingers curling around his reassuringly. It helped quell the impending anxiety by about five percent. “We don’t want to rush things,” Phil said smoothly.

     Mae snorted. “You’ve waited seven years. That’s way longer than Charlie and I did.”

     He shrugged. Dan had no idea how he was able to keep his calm so convincingly. “Neither of us would mind getting married someday, but our relationship has never been confined by things like that.” Phil’s gaze drifted back towards Dan, soft and gentle. They might be in danger of overdoing it,now. “Our--our bond has never been that simple. All I know is Dan is the most important person in my life, and I don’t think I could ever sum up all that means in one label.”

     His mum cooed, patting Phil’s cheek affectionately while Adrian mimed gagging from across the table. Mae was saying something else, but everything had faded into white noise. Dan found his eyes locking with Phil’s again, and he ducked his head, neck flaming crimson.

     Because the thing was, cheesiness aside, Phil sort of had a point.

    “I think you might’ve stolen the show for cutest couple,” Mae said.

     Charlie feigned hurt, pressing a hand to his heart. “Is it too soon to ask for a divorce?”

     “You never made an official announcement, but we always knew,” Donna said serenely, patting Phil’s free hand. “I’m just so glad you finally feel like you can tell us.”

    “What she means is you’re about as subtle as a fucking train inside of Buckingham Palace,” Adrian grumbled.

    A laugh escaped Dan, Phil’s brow furrowing in bemused amusement from beside him. “Nice analogy,” he said dryly, pushing down any lingering guilt from his mum’s statement. Sometimes he envied Phil’s relationship with Martyn; the two had always seemed close while his and Adrian’s relationship had been more turbulent. It was getting better now that they weren’t forced to live together, but they still had a long way to go.

    “How did you two meet?” Charlie asked.

    For some reason, explaining that he’d basically stalked Phil until they’d become friends tended to concern people. “Work,” Dan said. Technically it wasn’t a complete lie, but it was a far cry from the whole truth. Before the inevitable question of what he did for work could be asked, he tugged on Phil’s hand and dragged him towards the dance floor. “Sorry,” he said. “They're playing our song, but we’ll be back.” Needless to say, they didn’t have a song, but Phil smiled anyway and followed his lead.  

    “I didn't know Justin Bieber was our song,” the other man said once they'd reached the center of the floor, stepping closer and resting his free hand on the small of Dan’s back.

    “What else would it be?” Dan could sense his family's eyes boring into the back of his head, but he kept his focus trained on Phil. “Just pretend we’re back at the Brits.”

    “I’ll try not to step on your toes this time.” Phil led him backwards into an awkward makeshift shuffle, eyes trained on his feet in concentration.

    “You did beat me at Dance Evolution. Maybe it’s a sign you're getting over your clumsiness.” As if on cue, Phil’s elbow collided with the couple beside them.

    Phil cringed. “Sorry!”

    Dan snorted. “If we weren't dancing that'd be worthy of a slow clap. After all, this is you we’re talking about.”

    “Alright Mr. ‘Fell Up An Escalator,”

    “Thanks for reminding me. Way to reopen the repressed, aching wounds on my heart.”

    It's not often Phil makes barbed comebacks, but whenever he does there's a sparkle in his eyes that's otherwise absent. “What heart?”

   Dan stepped on the man’s foot a little too hard to pass off as an accident. “If only your subscribers could see you now, they'd know what a black cloud you are.”

    “A black cloud?”

    “Everyone thinks you're the sun, but we both know the truth.”

    “Huh. That's strange, I could've sworn I saw multiple gif sets on Tumblr of you calling me the sun.”

    Dan grumbled, slumping against Phil in defeat. “I changed my mind.”

    “At least I'm not darker than your soul. That's impossible.” At Dan’s glare Phil widened his eyes slightly, blinking up at him with a bright smile. Despite their (many) years of living together, Dan was still weak to Phil’s puppy dog eyes and the they both knew it.

    “I'm breaking up with you,” Dan said, pushing him away in an exaggerated movement as the song drew to a close. “I thought what we had was real, but I guess I was wrong.”

    “Not that I don't like being dumped, but do you want to continue this conversation outside?” Phil asked. “It's getting a little hot in here.”

    Dan grimaced, pushing his own sweaty fringe further off his forehead. “Good idea.” His hand found Phil’s again, the two weaving their way through the crowd and past the doors outside. He collapsed on one of the benches, Phil sitting beside him. The garden was almost empty, and the few people that were outside were talking in hushed tones.

     “It's a lot quieter outside,” Phil said softly. “Mae did a lovely job with the decorations.” Dan made a noise of agreement, the lanterns lining the path casting everything in a rosy glow.

    A couple are sitting on the bench across from them, heads bowed together and giggling quietly. It strikes Dan that their position is almost identical to theirs. “It's funny.”

   Phil started, head tilting to face his. “Sorry?”

   “Mum thought we were a couple all this time, but she never told me. And it's not just her, Dad and Adrian thought the same thing.”

    Phil shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Martin asked me if we needed to have a ‘special talk’ after meeting you.”

   Dan smiled slightly, picking at a loose thread on his tie. The next question bursts out before he can stop it. “Does it bother you that everyone thinks we’re dating?”

    “Not really, no. Does it bother you?” The implications behind the question were loaded, and Dan knew they were both thinking of 2012. But things had changed since then, and he'd come a long ways as a person.

    “No.” Dan said quietly, stomach twisting into knots as he pressed forwards. Something had been nagging him all night, but he was almost afraid to ask. “But...do you wonder if maybe they have a point?”

    “It's not like much would change,” Phil pointed out. “If we started dating.” He ducked his head, almost shy, and Dan wondered if he was just as nervous. “I’d still steal your cereal, leave my contacts on top of the sink, and leave every cupboard open,”

    “And I’d still yell at you for forgetting.”

    “And I’ll still knock on the wall and tell you to be quiet when you're awake at three in the morning.”

    “As long as you still make me a cup of tea when that happens I guess I’ll survive.”

    Phil eyes were bright, and something warm began to unfurl. “Only if I can pick the next anime.”

    Dan sighed, shaking his head. “You drive a hard bargain, Phil Lester.” He wondered when they'd started talking in ‘wills’ instead of ‘would’ves.’

    “So is that a yes?”

    “You haven't asked me anything yet,” Dan said, fighting the rising smile.

   Phil took a deep breath, eyes meeting Dan’s resolutely. “We could try it, if you want.”

    “Dating?” Phil nodded. “Does this mean I can change my Facebook status from ‘it’s complicated’ to ‘in a relationship?’”

    Phil rolled his eyes, punching him lightly in the arm. “If you're not careful you'll have to change it back to ‘single.’”

    “You love me too much.” As soon as the words left Dan’s mouth he froze. He hadn't meant the ‘l’ word to slip out so soon, (or easily,) but Phil didn't look phased.

    “I do.”

    Dan smiled, the feeling almost as warm as Phil’s body beside his. “I love you too. So does that make this our one and a half minute anniversary?”

    “I think you’re right. Happy one and a half minute anniversary,” Phil said. Dan laughed, resting his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder.

    “You too.”

    “I still get to pick the next anime,” Phil said seriously. “We made a deal.”

    Dan sighed. “I guess I’ll trust your judgement just this once, but you’d better not let me down.”

    “Will you dump me if I do?”

    He considered this for a moment. “Depends on what anime it is.”

    Phil laughed, shaking his head. “You’re the worst.”

    They sat in a companionable silence for the next few breaths, music and laughter drifting through the open door outside. Before meeting Phil, Dan had never thought it would be possible to fully relax and feel comfortable sitting in silence with another person. Phil was always proving him wrong, though, and Dan wouldn’t have it any other way.

    “How long have you two been together?” The couple across from them had finally separated, and the woman was regarding them curiously.

    Dan glanced down at his phone. “Three minutes and fifteen seconds.” He stifled a laugh at the surprised look on her face, turning to look at Phil instead.

    “Come on,” Phil said, pulling Dan to his feet. “I’m hungry.”

    “You're always hungry.” Dan rolled his eyes good naturedly, though he happily followed his boyfriend back inside. For once the crowds didn't feel suffocating, Phil’s hand warm and grounding in his.

[eldritchsurveys]

922.

5k Survey XL

2051. Are more people depressed because they are alone, or are more people alone because they are depressed? >> Heh, 5k Survey Xtra-Large. Anyway, you can be surrounded by people -- people you love and who love you, even -- and be depressed. Depression does not fucking care about your actual life situation or anything else but keeping you in its mind-altering grasp for as long as it possibly can. 2052. Have you ever gotten a mug, t-shirt, key chain, etc. that was personalized with your picture? >> Nope. 2053. What was the last thing that you experienced for the first time? >> This drink from Cafe Boba that I took one sip of and instantly hated. It was supposed to be jasmine green tea with lychee, which sounded like a pleasant, refreshing drink with maybe a bit of sweetness (to counteract my very savoury and rather fatty lunch). It actually tasted like a goddamn syrup dispenser. I was pissed. 2054. If you were going to die tomorrow and you were leaving a postcard for someone to read after you were gone what would it say? >> I wouldn’t do that. 2055. If you were about to be executed what would your last request be? >> How would I know? I can’t imagine being in this situation at all.

2056. What kinds of people do you find intimidating? >> I don’t really find people intimidating. I’ve been on the receiving end of that impression many times and knowing how strange and irrational it seems to hear that from people made it kind of hard for me to experience the feeling myself, I guess. People are just people. 2057. How much conviction do you have in your feelings and beliefs? >> I don’t really care about having conviction, so not a lot, I guess. I just think what I think until/unless the time comes for me to change my mind. 2058. In your house where is the: crazy glue? I’m not sure we have any right now, but if so, it’s probably in the right-most drawer on the east side of our kitchen. flashlight? We don’t have one of those either. We use the flashlight feature on our phones. 2059. Out of everyone you know who has the most personality? >> I don’t know how to quantify this. 2060. If you could go back in time to experience a musical movement or era, which one would you choose to live through? >> --- 2061. Do you suffocate people with your love? >> I am on the direct opposite end of the spectrum from this. 2062. Do you feel your life is charmed? >> I don’t know what this means. 2063. What character do you identify the most with from Winnie the Pooh? >> Eeyore. But also Rabbit, lol. 2064. When do you do your best thinking? >> I’m not sure. 2065. What motivates you? >> I’m also not sure of this. Motivation is very hard for me to muster. 2066. Look back at all the people you’ve dated. Has there been a pattern? >> Sparrow and I were talking about “types” in dating the other day because of a conversation she had at work, and I concluded that the reason there’s been no real pattern in my dating history is because... most of the time when I dated someone, it’s because he asked me out. I just went along with it because I... assumed that’s what you do, I guess. Like, if I wasn’t immediately repulsed by a person, then I was like “yeah, sure, okay”. So it’s not like I was actively picking these people to date as much as they picked me and I wasn’t opposed to it. The first person I remember pursuing is Hallie, and that was such a bass-ackwards and awful choice that I’m surprised I got it right the very next time around (Sparrow). 2067. Things change but what will always remain the same for you? >> The fact of things changing. 2068. Is divorce something you would ever consider or do you feel that marriage is permanently binding? >> I mean, of course I would consider it, if I had to. Nothing is permanently binding except the eventuality of death. 2069. What’s the strangest movie you ever saw? >> Oh, there’s a few. Antichrist comes to mind, of course, but also Enter the Void and Beyond the Black Rainbow, neither of which I finished because they were way too esoteric for me. I find Antichrist, and Mandy and mother! and such, to be just the right kind of strange for me and I gravitate to those kinds of movies hard. 2070. If you could go into virtual reality and set up your life there to be perfect and it would seem real but not be real would you trade your life now for the virtual life? >> I’d really rather not get involved with that at all. 2071. Does it seem like life is more difficult for you than for anyone else? >> When I’m depressed, sure. That’s part of the self-focused, excessively negative worldview shit. But normally, I understand that that’s not a logical way to think. 2072. What are you grateful for? >> You know, stuff. I’m not going to make a list right now. 2073. What was a choice that you didn’t want to make but you had to? >> I can’t think of one right now. 2074. Have you ever had dental surgery? >> I had a tooth pulled, does that count as surgery... I’m not sure where the line is. 2075. At what point exactly are you grown up? >> There is no “grown up”, it’s all just... some kind of complex illusion that people create to determine when they should stop watching cartoons or whatever. ...I mean, maybe I’m being a bit harsh, but I’m sick of the whole concept because it just never meant anything to me and even in my thirties I don’t get it. 2076. If there was a weight loss procedure that would destroy your ability to taste food so you wouldn’t be tempted by junk food, would you have it done? >> I stopped at “if there was a weight loss procedure”. Just fuck off with that. 2077. What is one thing that happened that you never expected? >> Like, in general? A majority of the stuff that’s happened to me, dude. 2078. If you called one of your friends and they said “It’s nothing personal but I don’t want to talk to anyone right now,” would you take it personally? >> First of all, bold of you to think I call people. But okay, say I messaged someone or something. I would take it a little personally at first, like it’d sting, but ultimately I’d respect that boundary and hope that it just means they’re focused on something in their life right now and don’t have the time/energy, but will probably come talk some other time. I’ve zero problem with that and don’t mind waiting, I just... often have the impression that I have no value to other people so I automatically assume they’re never going to talk to me again, lol. 2079. What is your favorite girl’s name? >> --- 2080. Do you ever feel guilty for being more fortunate then others? >> I sometimes experience something that reminds me of the concept of survivor’s guilt -- I made it out of being broke and homeless in NYC like so many other young, non-white, queer people, though not through any real work of my own (unless you count maintaining a long-distance relationship for a few years as work, which, okay, yeah), and there are so many people that just... will end up falling through the cracks, or getting into progressively more fucked-up situations, or dying, or whatever. And that sucks. Sometimes I wonder if I deserve to have made it out, or whether I’m doing enough to be worthy of it, although I know that’s a really fallacious way to think. 2081. If you had to wear a shirt with one word on it for a year, what word would you choose? >> Like, if I was a cartoon character, what would my shirt be? I’m not sure, but it’d probably be something a little ridiculous. 2082. What is evian spelled backwards? >> I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you. 2083. You drop 10 pounds of feathers and a ten pound bowling ball off the top of the same building. Which will hit the ground first? >> I don’t know. I guess it would depend if the 10lb of feathers was all in a single container or just... freely falling feathers, wouldn’t it? 2084. Even though you may never get what you want, are you happy because you’re trying? >> I’m not happy because I’m trying, I’m trying because the only other choice is to stop trying at all and that’s... no longer acceptable to me, I guess. 2085. If you started a petition what would it be about? >> I wouldn’t. 2086. When was the last time you asked someone to do something and they said no? >> I don’t remember. 2087. Do bad things happen to you on friday the 13th? >> Not that I’ve paid any specific attention to. I imagine bad things can happen on that day with the same or similar likelihood as any other day, but I wouldn’t focus on the fact that it’s Friday the thirteenth. 2088. What’s your favorite:  Madonna song? Again, just picking a song I like at random. Like a Prayer. John Lennon song? Michael Jackson song?  Doors song? The End. Rolling Stones song? Gimme Shelter. David Bowie song? (Fuck, like... half of his fucking oeuvre???) Space Oddity. Elvis song? If I Can Dream. 2089. If you had started a relationship with someone and they said that it would be best if no one knew about it just to see how it goes, would you be offended? >> I wouldn’t be offended, I would just hear alarm bells in my head. Definitely not a situation I’d like to be in, period. 2090. Do you know any self defense? >> No. I’ve picked up random tips over the years, but that’s all. Nothing I’ve really practiced, per se. How about CPR? >> No. I more-or-less know how it goes, but I’m not certified or anything. 2091. If you had to look into a mirror and see your naked soul stripped of all delusions and pretenses (Never ending Story style)could you handle it? >> Damn, I don’t even remember that part from Neverending Story, really gotta rewatch that, huh. Hopefully it’s still on HBO but it might be gone by now, I think it was on the “last chance to watch this” list recently. Anyway, I don’t know if I could handle that or not. Not sure what it would even feel or look like. 2092. Are you a genius? >> No. 2093. How did you find out that Santa Clause wasn’t real? >> I was never taught about him in the first place. 2094. Which is your favorite tarot card? >> Either Death or The Sun. Or The Hermit, that’s always a good one. Oooh, the Magician’s good too... this is tough. I love tarot. 2095. Does the internet separate people or connect them? >> I guess it does a fair amount of both, depending. 2096. Have you ever written a letter to a soldier? >> No. 2097. Does pain and fear make you feel alive? >> Er... I mean, that’s... I’m not sure how to answer that. Pain and fear often make me feel like I want to stop being alive, to be honest... 2098. Are you: good looking? Not answering that. thin? Eh. Not so much. happy? Sometimes. successful? At what? confident? Not particularlyl. 2099. Are you deciseive or wishy washy? >> It depends on what kind of decision I’m making and how much energy I have to make that kind of decision. 2100. Do you feel pop stars should be morally responsible to set a good example for their fans? >> I don’t think so, no. I think at some point, young people have to learn to discern what kind of behaviour they’re going to emulate and what kind of behaviour they don’t want to emulate, and seeing people behave in a variety of ways and figuring out how they feel about those behaviours helps with that discernment. Besides, celebrities are people, not fucking... archetypes, or heroic figures, or something. The fact that we treat this certain subset of human being like they should be something “greater” than human is more than a little weird to me (although I do recognise it’s probably something we’ve been doing in various forms or another for centuries, if not longer).