#yeah a little kid wrote that

[compacflt]

I have an anecdote about when I worked for a company and a co-worker left to work in a different state on military aircraft. He had to get a TS clearance and because we had worked for several years together he asked if I would be okay with being interviewed for his clearance. I said sure and an interviewer w the gov, arranged to come to my place of work and conduct the interview there. I was asked questions about him like how well did I know him, and whatever answer I gave led to more specific questions like if I answered a question about knowing his wife, they would ask if I thought his marriage sounded secure etc.

This memory of that experience was on my mind while I read your story and I wondered who Iceman would choose for his TS clearance interviews (and who the gov would choose for him) and what would they say? I feel like their "secret" would be uncovered in even a low level clearance (years later I had to submit names for a low level Public Trust clearance for my job) It was so embarrassing because I did not have many friends I was comfortable submitting for that as I kept my work and home life very separate.

Anyway, that is my "cool story, bro"

Thank you for such a great and well researched story!

this is indeed a cool story bro and touches on what is literally my story’s fatal flaw, which is: Yeah, a shitload of people would’ve known about it. I am going to hijack your question to talk about that, so my apologies, though i will get around to your question by the end. This is gonna be a really long post. I have a lot to say and a lot of ground to cover.

So I wanna start out by talking about the structure of this story and its core conflict, because while I’d like to say this story is rooted in an accurate depiction of the US military, obviously that’s not true; it’s rooted in the dynamic of the story that i wanted to tell, which is the story of a guy coming to realize the truth behind a Big Lie—him passing as straight. And that’s a pretty universal story, but it’s made more specific by the fact that a) the guy canonically wants to be the best in an institution that enforces the Big Lie and b) the guy canonically is so successful because he follows the rules/orders of that institution. So, for character growth, to put it simply, the guy (Ice) has to come to the conclusion that the Big Lie is a lie by himself. He can’t be told/ordered that the Big Lie is a lie, otherwise he hasn’t grown out of “just following orders.” (I’ll get to the Big Lie in a second. I made charts and story structure graphs below.)

The only other story about a Big Lie I can think of off the top of my head right now is Passing (1929) by Nella Larsen, which is about a Black woman in Chicago trying to pass as both white and straight. It’s a great book and I’ll try not to spoil it, you should really read it for yourself, but the terminology I’m going to use in this post comes from an analysis of it, so just to bring you up to speed—Clare, the woman trying to pass as white, is recognized by a friend, another Black-but-passing woman, Irene, who is shocked that Clare has abandoned her heritage (the truth of her, that is) and married a hyper-racist white man who doesn’t even know that she’s Black. So the book sets up a dynamic of the Big Lie that I’ve outlined here (hopefully it makes sense):

I built on this dynamic for my fic. Ice is both a “dupe” and a “passing figure,” in that he believes the lie that he is straight and also passes for straight—but it’s also more complicated than that because he’s not actually straight (getting to that). Mav is an “in-group clairvoyant” and can recognize Ice as passing because he is also straight-passing. The Navy are a bunch of “dupes.” But…what is Slider, for instance, or your question’s hypothetical government official who, yes, will 100% find out because people always find out?

In comes my ginormous-and-overly-wordy WWGATTAI Plot and Character Dynamic Summary Graph. You don’t really have to read it all, the only important bits for this discussion are the leftmost column (“plot”) and the green quadrant (“out-group clairvoyants”).

To summarize—people who know the truth can’t actually act on it, because for Ice’s character growth to make sense, he has to come to the truth himself. This forecloses the possibility of any outwardly homophobic action (by which I mean someone like a govt official or one of my lame OCs actually challenging him on his illegal relationship) in the plot, because for 90% of the story Ice is so fragile that he would probably just cave immediately and double down on the internalized homophobia. So, for plot purposes, everyone—including Mav, as it happens—has to sort of tiptoe around Ice’s obvious not-straightness and give him an unreasonable amount of grace so he can figure it out for himself. 

And therein lies the fatal flaw of this story. It is, like, not conceptually viable. Of course people would find out, of course the government would interrogate him about it, of course he’d have to confront the truth much sooner than TWENTY-FIVE years after he first starts messing around with Mav.  Which literally breaks my heart because I didn’t realize it was a fundamentally busted story until long after I had finished writing the base plot & couldn’t fix the overarching problems 😭 The thing is, it had to be this way, because there is at least a thirty-year gap between TG86 and TGM22, and TGM is obviously the emotional climax of the series and my story had to match that. So—fanfic and its canon constraints, everyone. 

But also… I can explain away these logical inconsistencies with story structure & character dynamic graphs to make the story make sense, sure, but it doesn’t change the truth of the matter, which is that… I hadn’t ever really thought about things like security clearances, and therefore wrote around them because I didn’t even know to consider them. And I know there are a bunch of other details in this story that betray my immaturity (anytime I talk about alcohol, for instance—I still am not legal to drink in this stupid country & have only cheap bad experiences to draw on; THE HOUSE—if i could rewrite this story from the beginning they would not have bought a fucking house together, what was I thinking???) and the lack of thought about the real-life logistics and consequences of secrecy is one of them. 

And it’s exactly what I mean when I say “I look at this story and all I see are its flaws,” which is why I wanted to write this post & get it on record. I have just enough life experience to read my own writing and know that it’s fundamentally unconvincing, and not enough life experience to know how to fix it. :(

But, to answer your original question, you’ve got me brainstorming a scene where Ice is asking Slider to be his character witness & Slider’s like “Look bro do you want me to lie to the federal government under oath for you because I will” and Ice has to be like “Legally I cannot ask that of you but”

[asmodeauxx]

he just like me fr,,,

also doodle sheet

these little freaks are floating in my head

[shima-draws]

One Piece where everything’s the same except Cora doesn’t die but Law’s still determined to absolutely beat the shit out of Doflamingo anyway. Cut to post Dressrosa where Law gets a VERY frantic phone call from Cora who’s like what the actual FUCK I saw the newspaper this morning you went up against Doffy all by yourself?? You promised me we would do this together you little SHIT do you have any idea how fucking scared out of my MIND I was when I saw the headline and I thought something happened to you, Law I swear to god, and Law’s like yes Cora I went up against him by myself, like HELL I was going to let him lay a single finger on you. And Cora’s like THAT’S MY LINE!!! You’re MY kid and I should be the one protecting YOU!! And Law’s like what with your shitty devil fruit powers? What could you have done? You would have fallen on your ass and gotten hurt or shot or worse and I’d be too fucking worried about you to focus on anything else. And Cora’s like this conversation is NOT over but I’m so so glad you’re okay. And he starts crying and he’s like oh my GOD Law you know how insane Doffy is I could have lost you. And I wouldn’t have even known until after the fact. And Law goes all quiet and he’s like I know I’m sorry but I could have lost YOU and I couldn’t handle that. I couldn’t. And Cora’s sobbing and he’s like I love you so much Law and Law’s like yeah. I love you too 🥺

Meanwhile the Strawhats witnessed this entire conversation and they’re like. Wow okay that was a lot to unpack. Law’s got a dad and they’re very protective of each other and apparently his dad is Doflamingo’s brother?? And Law literally dismantled Doflamingo’s entire criminal organization and DIDN’T bother telling his dad about it?? No wonder he’s pissed. And they’re also like awwwww we’ve never seen Law so soft and vulnerable before 💕 and Law looks at them and he’s like. You repeat ANY of what you just heard and I WILL kill you. And they’re like ‘Mhmm okay yup we hear you loud and clear. Btw what’s your dad like’ with the BIGGEST shit eating grins and Law’s like Okay! Killing you now!! And proceeds to chase them with his katana

[dilutedconfusion]

I did a thing…again.

Just realized that ya’ll need to click for better quality for some reason this post looks especially bad 🤚

[nyxypoo]

mdni, not proofread, takiishi being weird, mini endo mention, wc: 500

slightly expanding on/continuing this

despite takiishis typically uninterested expression, he's rather curious. hidden behind blank eyes is the curiosity of a cat. he's always watching, always listening while his gaze makes you think the exact opposite of that.

you, like everyone else who had ever seen takiishi, was unaware of this curious side of him. and you were completely clueless to the extent of his keenness when it came to figuring out the way you worked.

but to him, it was no surprise you ended up like this straight after work. after being ushered inside, he wordlessly made you lay down, your knees bent and heels by your ass.

for a moment, he was just watching you, as if you were some puzzle he was trying to solve. and then he was closer, spreading your thighs wider. one hand moved to your lower stomach, holding in you place, while the other spread you open for him.

he was observing you, every change in expression or twitch of your body committed to his memory. even as he hooked a thumb into your slit, his eyes were trained on your face. he watched the way you squirmed, the way you attempted to put distance between the two of you though you knew it was futile.

one of the many things he found interesting about you. the way you did things knowing it made no difference, the way you hid your desires, and the way your instincts interfered with those same wishes. everything you did was so interesting to him.

even now, as he prodded at your slick sex, he found you ever fascinating. the way you contradicted yourself was something else he found intriguing. the way you whined and told him to stop despite your visible arousal.

yet he never listened to your words, too focused on your body. on your actions. actions speak louder than words, no? and you could always tell more about a person from what they did, not what they said.

so he ignored your words, eyes trained on the fluttering of your stretched cunt. and as his fingers delved in you, pressing against the bare muscles, you thought that maybe this night would lead to something greater.

but even if every spasm of your muscles and whimpered out complaint was what he found intriguing, takiishi could never be entertained for long. as soon as hope entered your body, it left just as quickly. his fingers pulled out, his eyes staring at your exposed sex for a moment longer before he got up.

his curiosity was hidden once more, making it feel as though you had imagined the whole moment. yet the insistent throbbing between your legs confirmed that the whole interaction had in fact occurred. but that just left you alone, brought to the edge and moments away from pleasure. perhaps you could call endo, get him to pick up where takiishi left off. or wait around until takiishi was bored again, until his curiosity got the best of him.

[artsymephy]

You’re right

Let them be buddies

Buddies, playmates, partners in crime, chaotic besties, malicious soulmates, troublemaker friends, mischief pals, whatever!! I think they’d be fun! No one else gets their weirdness so they stick together !!!

[oncillabrigade]

Okay so here's my thing: I figured I would hop right into part 2 of my babby Tim fic after finishing part 1, and then a really fucked up Tim/Ra's idea jumped into my head and got me by the throat, and now I have mood whiplash from my own brain/writing?!

Also, a scene from my truly stupid, self-indulgent "Jason and Tim accidentally become bros immediately" fic sprung into my sleepy mind and then poured itself out of my fingers fully formed into a Google Doc.

So. I may be writing multiple longfics at the same time. Wish me luck?!

[thelastspeecher]

Anyways I've been thinking about my Olympian Falls AU a lot lately and sat down and wrote some stuff up recently. Here it is. Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

              Shermie stared at the wall covered in medals, trophies, and ribbons.

              “I knew you were good at boxing, but I didn’t know you went pro,” he said quietly.  Stan, who was digging through a large, sturdy, wooden chest, paused to look over.

              “Yeah, for a bit.  Helps when your dad is the god of boxing.”

              “I thought that was Apollo, not Hermes,” Shermie murmured.  Stan shrugged.

              “Things get a bit muddled over centuries.  Sometimes gods take turns doing stuff.  I mean, how many official Olympian cupbearers have there been?” Stan said, rolling his eyes.  Shermie smiled.

              It’s still astounding how much he knows about Greek mythology.  Before all this, I would have thought he knew a few gods, at best.   Then again, when you yourself are a part of the Greek mythos…  Even after a year, Shermie still found it difficult to comprehend that his younger brothers were in fact his half-brothers, as Filbrick wasn’t their father.  Rather, the Greek god Hermes was.  As he himself had twin children with the goddess Athena, he had taken the initial news better than he would have otherwise, but it had been an adjustment nonetheless.

              Right now, they were in the study of the home Stan shared with his wife Angie, who was apparently a demigod as well, though Shermie didn’t know her Olympian parentage.  Last year, Stan gave Shermie the rundown on what to expect raising two demigods.  But Shermie was back for more advice after a close call with a snake in Mabel’s crib.  After Shermie explained what had happened, Stan and Angie insisted on giving him some weaponry to protect himself and his children.  Regular weapons, like the knives Shermie had stocked up on after learning about monsters, wouldn’t work against the threats that Mabel and Mason would face one day.

              “Anyways, if Apollo is the god of boxing, he didn’t give that to any of his kids at camp,” Stan continued.  “I was the best boxer there.”

              “Why did you stop?” Shermie asked, as he had noticed the most recent medal was from a few years ago.

              “Angie fell in love with this ugly mug.  I didn’t wanna mess it up.”  There was a brief pause.  “And…demigods are more durable than regular humans, but we still get hurt.  I didn’t wanna take too many knocks to the head and turn into someone else, y’know?”

              “Yes,” Shermie said softly.  Their mom had pitched a fit over Stan and Ford learning how to box as children, because of the danger it posed to them.  He frowned at a gold medal for track and field.  “Are you a runner?”  Stan laughed.

              “Have you seen my legs?”  He resumed going through the chest.  “I could beat you in a foot race, but not any of my godly half-siblings.  I’d even lose to other demigods, like Angie.  Ford, though, he’s pretty quick on his feet.”

              “But your father…”

              “Is basically the god of being fast, yeah.  Not every demigod gets every single one of their parent’s powers or whatever.”  Stan pulled a bronze dagger out of the chest and frowned at it.  “What is- oh, this is Angie’s.  Better hold onto it.”  He went back to searching.  “Some demigods are more powerful than others.  I already told you I’m more powerful than Ford.  And Angie, whew!  She got a lot of gifts.  Some of her half-siblings, though, only got one or two.”  Stan pulled out a bronze sword.  “Aha!  Here’s what I was looking for.”

              “So if the track and field medal isn’t yours,” Shermie said softly, “is it Angie’s?”

              “Oh, yeah.  There’s a lot of non-boxing stuff over there that isn’t mine.”  Now that Shermie had been told, he could see the various other awards intermixed with Stan’s.  Stan put the dagger back in the chest, closed the lid, and stood up.  “She’s crazy competitive.  When she gets stressed and needs to blow off steam, she signs up for a competition.”  Stan grinned.  “Actually, I should show you her latest medal.”

              “I thought you were going to show me how to wield a sword,” Shermie said, trying to put his ADHD-afflicted brother back on track.  Stan looked at the sword in his hand like he’d forgotten it was there.

              “Right.  Eh, we can do that after.  Come on.”  Stan exited the study.  Shermie followed, but paused to look at the bookcase on the wall opposite the trophies and medals.  He’d been so distracted, he hadn’t noticed it there.  The vast majority of the books weren’t in English.  They were in Greek.  Likely Ancient Greek, given what Stan had said about demigod brains being hardwired for the language.  A few looked like they could have been in a Gaelic language, but Shermie didn’t know which one.  “Sherm, you can look at Angie’s nerdy book collection later,” Stan said, coming back to the study doorway.  “Trust me, you’re gonna wanna see what Angie did last month.”

              “Last month?” Shermie asked, following Stan back to the living room, where Angie was watching Mabel and Mason.  Her and Stan’s three children were napping in their rooms, as Shermie had dropped by unannounced.  Angie’s head shot up.

              “Oh, no, Stan, don’t show him,” she moaned.  “I’m so embarrassed by it.”  Mason, who she was holding in her arms, babbled happily.  Mabel was asleep in her carrier.

              “If she’s embarrassed, I don’t want to-” Shermie started.  Stan shook his head.

              “Nah, she just doesn’t like recognition.  Which is weird for a demigod.  And especially weird with her parentage,” Stan shot at his wife.  Angie rolled her eyes.

              “I don’t compete fer attention or glory, I do it fer the thrill of winnin’.  That’s perfectly Greek,” she drawled in her thick southern accent.  Stan snickered.  He walked across the living room and stood in front of a mostly bare wall.  The only thing on the wall was a picture of Angie and some people Shermie didn’t recognize, as well as a case containing multiple gold medals.  Shermie frowned at the people in the photo.  Something about their outfits seemed familiar.  His gaze dropped to the medals below the photo.  He began to read aloud the inscription on the medals.

              “XXVII, so, 27…”  Shermie felt the blood drain from his face.  “Olympiad, Sydney, 2000.”  He looked at the photo again.  Angie and the others in the photo were wearing the uniforms that the USA athletes had worn to the Olympic Games the previous month.  Shermie’s head whipped around to stare at his sister-in-law.  His Olympic athlete sister-in-law.  Angie smiled sheepishly.  “You- you won multiple gold medals at the Olympics?” he croaked.

              “In my defense, I didn’t mean to go that far,” Angie said.  Shermie’s jaw dropped.

              “Are you saying you accidentally competed at the Olympics?  How does one accidentally win an Olympic gold medal?” he asked, his voice cracking mid-sentence.

              “Like I said, I like competin’,” Angie mumbled.  “I kept goin’ and kept goin’ and ‘fore I knew it the folks handin’ me a medal were sayin’ I won a spot on the Olympic team.  And when I got to the Olympics, well, it ain’t like I weren’t goin’ to give it my all.”

              “But- but-”  Shermie looked at the photo and medals again.  “Why did I not hear about this?  What did you even compete in?”

              “Ah, well, that’s the reason ya didn’t hear ‘bout it,” Angie said.  “I weren’t swimmin’ or runnin’.”

              “I still think you shoulda done the javelin,” Stan muttered.  “It’s hot and you’re scary good at it.”  Angie frowned at him.

              “I don’t go higher ‘n state level fer track ‘n field.  It’s too high-profile.”

              “Uh-huh, and how many of your half-siblings were in the Olympic Village with you?” Stan said.  “They don’t have any problem with it!”  Angie rolled her eyes.  She turned her attention back to Shermie.

              “I did shootin’.”

              “Shooting,” Shermie repeated.  He frowned.  “They- they have that at the Olympics?”  Angie nodded.  “I didn’t know.”

              “That’s why I was fine bein’ on the team,” Angie said.  She shrugged.  “Even bringin’ home a gold medal or two-”  Shermie glanced at the gold medals, of which there were certainly more than two “-I won’t get recognized at the grocery store.  Which is what I want.”  Stan shook his head.

              “Your dad would be ashamed of how afraid you are of the spotlight,” he said.  Angie stuck her tongue out at him, making him laugh.  Shermie frowned.

              “But you could have made the Olympic team in track and field?” he asked.  Angie shrugged again.

              “Sure.  I would’ve had to train fer it a bit, unlike the shootin’, but I think it ain’t out the realm of possibility.”

              “You’re athletic,” Shermie said flatly.  Stan placed a hand on Shermie’s shoulder.

              “Word of advice, Sherm.  Every single demigod is gonna be more athletic than a regular human.”  He grinned.  “But yeah, Angie’s more athletic than most.  She buries her nose in science so much, people don’t realize it.”

              “Remind me why I married ya, Stanley Pines?” Angie sighed.

              “‘Cause I pickpocketed your heart, babe,” Stan replied.  Angie giggled.  Shermie didn’t pay attention to the flirting.  Instead, his mind was racing, trying to figure out Angie’s godly parent.

              More athletic than most.  A knack for shooting.  What else is Angie good at?  She works in infectious disease research.  She plays more musical instruments than I can name.  She’s eerily good at guessing who will win the football game each Thanksgiving.  Her godly parent is her father…  Shermie stared at his sister-in-law.  Her skin was the kind of sun-kissed that tanning salons could only dream of, nearly the same gold as her hair.  Angie cocked her head curiously, watching Shermie with eyes the color of a clear summer sky.

              “Apollo,” Shermie croaked.  Angie smiled.  “Your- your father is Apollo.”

              “Yes.”  Angie frowned at Stan.  “And despite what Stan says, he’s very proud of me.  He sent me a sign after the Olympics and everything.”  Shermie frowned himself.

              “It is odd that you would shy away from the limelight with him as your father,” he remarked.  Stan snickered.  Angie huffed.  “But- if your father is Apollo, and Stan’s father is Hermes…”  Shermie grimaced.  “Your fathers are half-siblings.  That makes you-”

              “Oh, we didn’t get into the whole ‘your godly parentage doesn’t count unless you’ve got the hots for one of your half-siblings’ yet?” Stan asked.  “Because it doesn’t.”

              “Why?”

              “It’s best not to ask that question,” Angie said gently.  She placed Mason, who was now fast asleep, back into his carrier.  “And it’s far from the first question you should avoid askin’, Sherman.”

              “You have a twin brother, correct?” Shermie asked. 

              “Lute’s not a half-blood,” Stan supplied.  Shermie looked at him, then back at his sister-in-law.

              “How?” he asked.  Angie’s face hardened.  “I take it that’s another question I shouldn’t ask.”

              “Yes.”  Angie stood up.  “My partic’lar arrival in my fam’ly is a touchy subject.  One I would ask ya to not bring up next time ya interact with ‘em.”  Angie’s eyes bore into Stan.  “And one I’d like Stanley to keep to himself.  Fer now, at least.”  Stan held up his hands.

              “I didn’t wanna get into it anyways.  But, Ang, his kids are from Athena, so-”

              “Don’t matter,” Angie said firmly.  Fussing sounded from the baby monitor on the coffee table.  “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go check the lil ones.”  She walked upstairs to the second floor and disappeared into the nursery.  Stan turned to Shermie.

              “By the way, you do know how you wound up with kids even though you didn’t actually sleep with their mom, right?” Stan asked.

              “No.”

              “Huh.  Well, I can explain that to you.”  Stan’s trademark mischievous grin, one that Shermie wondered if he inherited from his trickster god father, appeared.  “During your first swordfighting lesson!”

              “Not in the house!” Angie’s voice called.

              “Your first swordfighting lesson outside!” Stan amended.  He handed the sword he was still carrying to Shermie.  Shermie stared down at it.  He could see his reflection in the polished bronze blade.  “Don’t worry, I’m gonna go easy on you.”

              “Somehow, that doesn’t reassure me.”

              “Relax.  If I do chop off a finger or limb or something, Angie’s pretty good at first aid.”

              “What about Mabel and Mason?” Shermie asked.  Stan looked over at the couch as though he had forgotten about his niece and nephew.

              “Oh, right, them.”  The grin was back.  “They can watch!  It’ll be educational.”

              “They’re a year old.”

              “You’d be surprised what babies remember,” Stan said seriously.  He walked over to the couch.  Mabel was awake.  She stared up at her uncle with wide gray eyes.  Stan tickled her belly, making her giggle.  “How’s about you and your brother watch your Uncle Stan beat up your dad?”  Mabel babbled happily.  “Bloodthirsty already, huh?”  Stan looked back at Shermie.  “You’re gonna have your hands full with these two gremlins.”

              The stories that his mom and Stan had told him, of near misses with monsters and gods and prophecies, replayed in Shermie’s mind.

              “Yeah,” he said softly.  “I am.”

[kinos-fortress-2]

ok another headcanon and is from my ultimate comfort favs:

When demo got first hired by pauling he was like very shy and introverted at some point where everyone wasn’t like… that conjoined and besties as how they are now. And i feel like he got a pretty rough time to even start to talk with his teammates or get a tiny friendship with them.

And he often times was very threatened by small lady in glasses that liked to be strict with them in their first day since… it was business only ofc

but by the time when pauling got a bit more soft with them, and got also a bit friendly with demo i feel like at some point he started to develop a tiny crush with her since she was the one who often talks more with, and i have this other hc that also he would fell easily with people that befriends him (not like anyone of course it really does depends the person for him)

so you know pauling it’s nerdy and a bit sensitive (she cries very easily) and she is very friendly or a bit more extrovert if she gets to, but like in a sense where she is more ambivert too. uhhh idk she is just talkative with people if you get her chance where she’s not busy and will tell you to go to hell. rough lady

and he liked that! i think he thought they both shared some stuffs along and can infodump their love for guns and for the work they are in and then if they can go a bit personal with some drinks and he liked that he could share this stuffs with her all chill and cool

but i feel like he just had this side secret crush with her and stopped those want to be romantic feelings because he really saw she is not like, up to those stuffs, she is so focused on work and also stressed and depressed like him and he could just understand that she just only want someone to listen to her but she will not like, pay that much attention about romantic relationships and he could completely understand that once he get to know her more deeply. and he just couldn’t do that to the one who also considered a friend and he probably guessed she will not feel the same for him but that didn’t like hurt him and is not like he ever confessed to her. he just had those secret feelings for her for a time and then realized she was not really like the one for him to be in a relationship

and that’s where i thought of him now having a more soft spot for her and caring her like a sister (not like literally but in a familiar soft spot sense, but that’s ofc his friend)

so yeah idk 👍

[pardonmydelays]

SURPRISE! I was your "where do I start with TØP" anon. Thank you for suggesting Blurryface, I enjoyed it. It turns out that I've listened to this album before. Many times, back when it was released. I'd forgotten but listening to it again brought back some memories.

Some of my faves, if you're interested: Stressed Out, Ride, Fairly Local Tear In My Heart, Lane Boy, Message Man

What's next?

not me giggling like a fucking idiot right now, oh god why am i like this

fairly local and message man amongst your favourites OH MY GOD WHAT A TASTE! ���

ok, i don't exactly know which way to go now because i would normally suggest vessel, but if we wanna dive into the lore, trench is the answer! and i think you may actually like trench, it's also possible to listen to it and ignore all the lore stuff and this is such a great album. yeah, i think trench would be good. you can just try to focus on music first but if you have any lore questions i'd be happy to answer them!

[scamera-writes]

I think I have a friend

I think I have a friend Her name is a 6 letter word Synonym to isolated and desolate I think I like her I think I miss her when she's gone I think I have a friend

She is enveloping and distracting Like a fleeting hallway love And I’m dependent on her touch

I used to invite her over more Everyday even We would sit together on the couch Use the swing set together Even while reading I would hold her hand And she would squeeze mine back

But now I see her less Only while driving by myself Eating dinner by myself Isolating in my room by myself

Even then she wavers and flickers away When I listen to a song that brings me comfort Or when I get a text that makes me grin When I remember that I’m loved even when it’s not right in front of me

I can’t tell whether I miss her Or I’m better off without her Sometimes I find myself lacking her hand in mine But I find my lovers hand instead and I smile

I think I have a friend Lonely was her name Antonym to popular and loved I think she liked me I think she misses me when she’s gone I think I had a friend

---

-I think I have a friend (By me)

[aulerean]

pensive

[lesbianlenas]

ok i know u r all DYING to hear abt my topic for my 60 pg paper basically i had originally wanted to write abt creating a separate standard for women who have been abused killing their husbands other than self defense bc self defense has an imminence requirement that leads many women to be convicted of first degree murder for killing their abusive husbands. but someone in my journal wrote that last yr and even tho i could make a different argument i just felt like there was no way i wasn’t going to be preempted so i was like ok nvm. and there was a whole bunch of other ideas i came up w that were also preempted. but anyway i was really upset abt the first one being preempted but it came to me like a vision that i could write abt postpartum psychosis instead which is a somewhat similar issue in that the law doesn’t consider it bc it is an issue specific to women which leads to women being convicted of first degree murder & even getting the death penalty for killing their children while suffering from that. so i am going to write abt creating a specific standard for that other than the insanity defense which isn’t good enough and no one in my journal has ever written abt that & i haven’t seen any other articles written that make the exact argument i want to make so we are good 👍

[magpiesbones]

Orufrey, friends with legal benefits instead of the Hat, chapter 40 spoilers

Olruggio was the kindest, smartest, and overall best person Qifrey had ever known. And that was why, a month and a half after Qifrey came back from the Tower of Tomes, Olruggio cornered him and demanded to know what was going on. 

“You’re not eating, you keep having weird muttering conversations with yourself, and you’re avoiding me, Qifrey. Tell me what’s wrong.”

He’d looked angry, glowing, like a star on earth, like fire forced to burn under the ocean. For a second Qifrey thought about not telling him: Qifrey couldn’t bear it if that fire turned on him, if Olruggio learned this thing and then hated him for it. 

“Okay,” Qifrey said. “But not here— somewhere private.”

“Oh,” Olruggio said— he sounded surprised, a little, and pleasantly so. 

“My rooms?” Qifrey suggested, and Olruggio nodded, his eyes very wide. 

Qifrey started to have doubts as soon as the door closed behind them. What if this was too much for Olruggio? What if this wasn’t too much now, but years from now it would become the thing that broke them? He wouldn’t survive this secret, eventually: it was the knife at his back, the poison in his every meal, the water in his lungs, and someday it would overtake him. And as long as Qifrey was the only one who knew, he could hold it off. 

“…Qifrey?”

But this was Olruggio: Olruggio, who had never once done anything to hurt Qifrey, who had kept every secret Qifrey had ever told him, who had never given him a single reason to doubt his trust. 

“You can’t tell anyone, Oru, I mean it. You have to promise.”

Olruggio promised. Qifrey told him everything. 

“Are you… is there anything I can do to help?” He was looking at Qifrey like he cared, like this didn’t matter. He still wanted to help. 

Qifrey burst into tears, and collapsed over Olruggio. He hadn’t realized how terrified he was that it would change things between them until it didn’t. Olruggio knew and he didn’t hate Qifrey for it, didn’t shun him, didn’t report him to the Knights about it. He knew and he was still here, sitting on Qifrey’s little atelier floor, letting Qifrey cry a wet spot into his shirt, stroking his hands up and down the bumps of his spine. Olruggio knew and— and nothing. That was it. 

“Just— stay?” Olruggio nodded; Qifrey could feel the motion of his head over his shoulder. He let his hands clench in the fabric of Olruggio’s shirt. “And don’t tell anyone, okay?”

”Of course,” Olruggio said. “I swear on the wisdom of the stars and the blood of the trees and the bones of the sages.”

Qifrey pushed away from his shoulder. “You can’t,” He blurted. “You can’t swear that— what if the Knights ask, what if the Wise in Principles asks you directly?” That was a serious oath, one you only said if you knew you’d never break it, even if you didn’t take your word as strongly as Olruggio did. 

“Then… I just won’t answer. I’ll lie.”

”You’ll have to. Everyone has to—“

“—They won’t make me, I swore and I meant it—“

”—except blood relations—“ And they weren’t blood related and couldn’t fake it, could they, not ever—

”I’m not going to break an oath I made to you.“

“—and spouses.” That was an idea. That could work. If they got married, they’d have legal protections about this, and nobody would be able to force them apart. “We should get married.”

Olruggio stared at him. “Okay.”

”—Platonically, obviously,” Qifrey hastened to add. And then: “Wait, what?”

”Yes, I’ll marry you. Whatever you need. I was thinking of following you to your atelier anyways—“

Olrugio was thinking of doing what.

”—but this is much more convenient.”

“You… don’t want to stay in the Great Hall?”

”No, dumbass. What would I do in the Great Hall without you here? And besides, if we get married we’ll have to stick together.”

“We won’t have to,” Qifrey said. 

“Well, no,” Olruggio said. “Not if you don’t want to. But I would like to.”

“I would also like to,” Qifrey said, and felt shy, for some reason, as if this were as great of a secret as his eyes, his creation. As if Olruggio did not already know all of his secrets. 

—

“Are you sure you want to marry me?” Qifrey asked. The great hall’s study library was a huge dark maw around them, empty and cavernous as the ocean floor. Olruggio was tucked into one of the niches in the wall (his favorite niche, the one conveniently close to the advanced fire reference material, with a full desk and the good chairs), and by extension, so was Qifrey. The pool of light from Olruggio’s spell cast out far enough to divine the edges of the bookshelves, but no further, and other late studiers were only apparent by the little stars of their light. “Like seriously sure? What if you meet someone you actually want to marry?”

Olrugio hit him in the head with a roll of paper. “I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t. And that’s not going to happen.”

But what if, Qifrey wanted to ask. Olrugio is brilliant, like a fire, like a star, and beautiful, and someone— someone was going to notice, and fall in love with him, because how could they not. And. And Olruggio’s going to fall in love with them back, because they’ll be someone who actually deserves him, beautiful and clever and a brilliant witch. But. 

Maybe, though. Olruggio’s never broken a promise to him before— okay, except for that time he promised he had the drying spell working and then accidentally singed his cape, but never an important promise— so if Olruggio says it, then he means it. 

“Okay,” Qifrey says. It’s so dark in the library and so bright right here in this little corner that it feels like they’re the only people in the world. It makes it feel doubly important somehow, like some sort of oath, like swearing his fealty. Like saying a promise and really meaning it, somehow. He’s always thought things meant more in the dark, when nobody else is watching. 

—tbc?

[silverselfshippingchaos]

don't think I've mentioned here, but there actually is a S.ugiura fankid! She's very lovely!

[6mayhem]

anyway i need to hang out with my brother again he is the one person who i am pretty sure knows literally everything about me so he's the only person i trust that i can absolutely not disappoint. nothing i can do could be worse than the sum of everything i've been doing to that poor man (and him to me) the past 19 years