#you flippant little gay boy

[vault81]

just finished veilguard...

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Bury Your Gays

Chuck Tingle: hello chums it's me chuck tingle, totally normal guy Tingle: tonight i have a totally normal story for you King: oh boy! a real tingler! i can't wait! King: i bet it's real whacky and off the wall! Tingle: haha not at all chum Tingle: it's actually quite normal and restrained

Tingle: this isn't so much a tingler Tingle: as a SPINE tingler King: Oh! there it is! King: that signature chuck tingle wit we all know and love!

King: you know, chuck, i used to be considered quite the comedian back in my day King: have you ever heard of a little thing called the rock bottom remainders? Tingle: i thought that was a band King: King: well it is King: but dave barry's in it

Tingle: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the gays that got buried Tingle: it's the story of a successful gay Hollywood guy Tingle: when the studio demands that he bury his gays, he's faced with a moral dilemma Tingle: will he sell out and bury his gays? Tingle: or will he keep true to his gay vision?

Tingle: as this gay Hollywood guy struggles with his dilemma, he's haunted by the ghosts of his own screen creations Tingle: fear bubbles up from his brain just as a scream bubbles up from his chest

Tingle: we've all had a good time being scared Tingle: but there's nothing scary about… good queer representation Tingle: perhaps, chums, horror could be made to be more gay Hailey Piper: i have a question Piper: how MUCH more gay? Piper: cuz i have a suggestion for exactly how much more gay it could be

Piper: could it be possibly gay as f Piper: THE THRILL OF THE HUNT THE SMELL OF THE SHUNT Cynthia Pelayo: GODDAMNIT!! Pelayo: EVERY TIME!!!

Tingle: now i hope that we all learned a little something from Grady Hendrix: [pulling up on a skateboard, boombox playing 'School's Out' by Alice Cooper] Hendrix: [pushing sunglasses down nose] did someone say LEARN??? Hendrix: school's for fools! Hendrix: the pool rules!

Hendrix: [flipping skateboard] look at you squares, LEARNING LESSONS from satirical horror! Hendrix: horror satire should be about FUN! Hendrix: check out MY story! Hendrix: The Support Group for People Who Walk Down a Spooky Alleyway and Hear a Scary Noise but it Turns Out it Was a Cat Hendrix: it's a send-up of the horror trope where someone walks down a spooky alleyway and hears a scary noise but it turns out it was a cat

Tingle: now see here chum we don't need your irreverent attitude to have a good time! Hendrix: YOU GOTTA FIGHT Hendrix: FOR YOUR RIGHT Hendrix: TO PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARTY!

Tingle: hello chums i have a new tingler for you all Tingle: pounded in the butt by grady hendrix' flippant attitude King: oh good! i love a laugh! Tingle: this isn't comedy, it's sincere erotica King: Barker: not gonna lie, this sounds p hot

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 114

Part 1 Part 113

It’s fully dark by the time they trundle into the trailer park. The sceneries nostalgic, almost. Steve at his side, his feet aching from too long upright, not another soul in sight. There’s no ash floating in the air, and no vines squirming on the ground, and the sky’s not an ominous red.

Will he ever be able to walk down this familiar stretch of street without thinking of that time?

He almost hopes not. Without the Upside-Down, when he and Steve ever come together like this?

Maybe it’s stupid, but he wants to hold onto those memories just as much as this one. They’re what got him here, holding Steve Harrington’s hand, floating past cloud nine and straight into the stratosphere.

His glasses are chock full of roses.

It’s a tragedy that he has to drop Steve’s hand to open and unlock the door, but he makes do.

Wayne’s on his recliner when they stumble through the door, holding a beer in one hand and the TV remote in the other. He glances away from the screen, double takes, then stares back, eyeing them both up and down with an eyebrow raised.

He takes a long, loud sip from his beer, then asks, “you boys have a fun night?”

Eddie glances at Steve, and it’s only then that he notices how disheveled they both must look. Steve’s lips are still swollen, and his hair’s fucked beyond repair. Steve’s eying Eddie in kind, making those same damning connections.

He looks worried around the edges, though, so Eddie does what he’s always done best: put on a show.

He turns to Wayne, hands planted on his hips and says, “Wayne, I’ve got something to tell you.” He reaches out, linking his hand with Steve’s once more. “I’m gay.”

Wayne snorts, coughing on his beer. It must burn because his eyes water as he gasps out, “you play too much, boy.” He wipes the overflow from his chin, glaring up at Eddie. “You finally figure your shit out?”

Eddie beams, squeezing Steve’s hand. “Stevie here figured it out for me.”

Wayne looks between them for a few seconds more before shrugging disinterestedly, says a flippant, “he’s my favorite son for a reason,” and then just turns back to the TV to continue flicking through channels.

And that’s it. That was all she wrote, and all that. The world just, keeps turning.

“Should we tell anyone?” Steve asks that night, curled up into his side the way he always is. “Besides Will?”

He pulls Steve closer, the fondness in his chest expanding to the point of pain. Will, who is a part of their fucked up little trio. Of course, they’ll tell him.

It might even help him come to terms with some things that were hard won, brutal battles for Eddie when he was Will’s age. Give the kid a little hope, and all that. Hope that there are partners better out there than Mike Wheeler, the turd.

Eddie hums, skimming his fingers up and down Steve’s arm. “Well, Wayne figured it out the minute he looked at us, that’s one down.” He holds up one finger before bringing it back to Steve’s arm and tapping it against it. “You told Carol, so that adds in her and Barb.” Fingers two and three, tap, tap.

“Jeff?”

“Oh, definitely Jeff.” Eddie raises a fourth finger, taps it once before unlocking his thumb so he can clutch Steve’s hand. He pulls it up to his own chest, pressing it to the beating of his heart. “He wants me to tell him about the Upside-Down.”

Steve’s quiet, and it’s too dark to read his face no matter how hard Eddie strains his eyes.

“Do you think I should?”

Steve sighs, digging his pointy chin into Eddie’s shoulder. “I don’t know, man.”

“Man,” Eddie cuts in, mockingly. “Your tongue was in my mouth like, ten minutes ago.”

Eddie’s body shakes with Steve’s quiet laughter. “Fine, whatever,” he huffs. “It’s not up to me, Loverboy.”

The nicknames got that same mocking edge Eddie himself had used. It still makes his heartbeat stutter in his chest.

“But I’m not sure this is a situation where not knowing would help them?” he continues, voice lilting up at the end like it’s a question. “I mean, it didn’t help us.”

Eddie sighs, letting himself melt into the springy mattress. Look at all of them. They’d left Carol in the dark, and she’d crawled her way into the inner circle by her hell-beast talons.

Stumbling around in the dark never helped anyone.

“I’ll think about it,” Eddie says, already knowing that its too late. The worm’s wriggled its way into his brain and made a home there.

But there’s an order to these things, and Will comes first, always. They clamber into Eddie’s van in the morning, ready to enjoy whatever somehow overcooked and overcooked concoction Mama Byers has made for breakfast.

Jonathan opens the door before they’re even out of the van. He leans against the door jam, crossing his arms and glaring hatefully out at them, still in his raggedy pajama pants.

“Johnny Boy!” Eddie calls, beaming as he bounds up to him, shoving past him to come into the house, uninvited. “You’re looking mighty cheerful this morning.”

“Sorry, I don’t have a cheerful face on for the early-morning uninvited guests,” he grumbles, stepping out of the way and letting Steve through with much less ire.

Eddie can’t blame him. Steve’s in his stupid yellow sweater looking soft and warm in the November air. Eddie can’t compete with that, doesn’t even want to.

“Is Will up?” Steve asks, in a far more appropriate volume for the early morning.  

Jonathan gestures toward the back of the house before stumbling over to the couch and sinking into it.

Mama Byers isn’t anywhere in sight, and the house is quiet enough that their voices may carry. Eddie’s not worried. These people are his family, and more importantly, they’re Will’s.

If the wall’s have got ears, he couldn’t pick anyone better to be listening. He’d bare any bit of himself here, if Will needs him to.

Eddie grabs Steve’s wrist and pulls him along toward Will’s bedroom. It’s time to get this show on the road.

Part 115

[sahonithereadwolf]

I went down another research hole the other night. Y'all might know about "Big Rock Candy Mountain" from O Brother, Where Art Thou...

But it, like most of the songs from that movie comes from a tradition of American folk songs. Big Rock Candy Mountains very specifically this tradition of hobo ballads. And, like setting aside the overtones of American colonialism that purvey all these sort of "there is a dreamland to the west for you to claim" songs, there is a cultural tradition of these. "Life is a struggle but there is a place where it's not if you can find it" is a very human sentiment.

There are plenty of medieval works on Cockaigne, which has a similar kinda tone to it. A land where the harsh realities of a blue collar or peasant class struggle can not exist.

But did you know about the secret gay lyrics of Big Rock Candy Mountain?

After Harry McClintoc recorded his version of this ballad, which he claimed he wrote in 1895 based off the stories he heard as a kid working on the railroad, a bunch of people took him to court because they claimed he stole and took parts of his song from a bunch of other hobo songs in the same traditions. Sweet Potato Mountain, Hobo's Heaven, An Appleknocker's Lament... As part of the court dispute, McClintock was told by the judge to perform the song. As art of the court record we have a last stanza which is not used in the cleaned up version used for records and "reputable venues". This was recorded as:

"The punk rolled up his big blue eyes And said to the jocker, "Sandy, I've hiked and hiked and wandered too, But I ain't seen any candy. I've hiked and hiked till my feet are sore And I'll be damned if I hike any more To be * * * * * * * * In the Big Rock Candy Mountains." Now NO ONE KNOWS what that last lyric is. However we can make some very educated inferences. This is about gay sex.

And it's not like "Big Rock Candy Mountains" is immune to commentary despite the more sanitized versions you'd see later from the likes of Burl Ives.

I'm thinking very specifically: "In The Big Rock Candy Mountains All the cops have wooden legs And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth" and

"In The Big Rock Candy Mountains The jails are made of tin And you can walk right out again As soon as you are in There ain't no short-handle shovels No axes, saws or picks I'm a-goin' to stay where you sleep all day Where they hung the jerk that invented work In The Big Rock Candy Mountains" Going back to the lyrics "The punk rolled up his big blue eyes"

Punk in this context and original use, especially in it's use in hobo culture refers to a younger man or boy being kept for sex and other menial task.

Which, you know, should put a whole new context to see how it's been used against other forms of youth culture. Hippies, greasers, punks,ect. And at least for me makes it's misuse feel even more slapdash and pathetic.

If you doubt this, it is quickly followed up by the term "Jocker" "And said to the jocker, 'Sandy," a slang term of the era referring to an aggressive and usually straight passing dom top, especially in the context of prison.

To be a little flippant, this is a twink grumbling to a daddy.

As I mentioned before, no one actually knows what that missing lyric is. Or at the very least it's never been made public.

But give it's proximity to "sore" and "more" a lot of guess tend to jump to the word "Whore".

Sam Eskin actually interviewed McClintock for Folkway Records and which, when asked about the lyrics said “the ambition of every hobo was to snare some kid to do his begging for him, among other things,”

This is something you see in a lot of early gay panic lit all the way up through the 80's. Especially as the moral authoritarianism of the Hayes code kicked in. But it also found itself in the early pulp lit where queerness could still exist (if behind a little mask and a performative, if dramatic, finger shake)

Queerness and homelessness were intertwined. Still are, both from my own personal experiences and if you look at the statistics. And it's not much of a leap to understand why. ---

But we do have some offered lyrics from other authors: "To be buggered sore like a hobo’s whore,” Is a popular one, which has it's origins from a 2002 folk music site called mudcat and waaaaay too British to read naturally if you ask me.

“And be cornholed till my ass is raw.” is another one you see passed around a lot. Which feels too forum humor.

George Milburn in 1930 offers "To be a homeguard with a lemonade card.” which is naive and sweet to say the least.

The fact is we still don't know this lyric, gay punchline (or at least gay panic) as it might be. All we know is that Big Rock Candy Mountain "Was never meant to be a parlor song" in McClintock's own words.

Well that and the insight it offers into social perceptions of queerness at the time and how it's shaped and shifted in the future.

What do you think this secret gay Big Rock Candy Mountain lyric is?

[i17iskillingmylife]

Stupid question, What did you imagine regarding a sequel of psychonauts? Like, before it came out.

will be real i am not the largest sequel individual. that is to say, i did not desire one when one did not exist. and i also wasn't thinking about it on account of there wasn't one. there's all kinds of things to be saying and extrapolating about raz and his world and his life after the events of the first game but that's more like naturally intuiting simple facts than it is thinking about a "sequel". which is something i didn't think about.

would be kind of cute though if it had been set, at least partially, in a less-immediate but not too distant future. (it's fun if some time passes but i don't want them to redesign him i've only seen ONE older raz design that's really….him……you know…..) pn 05 is so seasonal, it really feels like muggy hazy summer in that game, so it would have been fun to have another game where the camp is similarly kind of a "hub" world but is recontextualized in winter. surely there's some fun to be had redesigning the landscape not only visually but in terms of layout….snowdrifts and ice could block / grant access to new or preexisting areas. they could make raz wear a warmer outfit that's different from his usual one and i could look at him in it.

was also a little scandalized at how they treated the water curse. it's at it's best when it's real and not real - first game kind of implying that it's all in his head is charming, second game bluntly confirming that it's basically nothing and means nothing is boring. kind of makes his whole background crumble…sorry DUDE your parents raised you to believe CRAZY thing NOT REAL…..it doesn't have to be real either it's just more fun to think he grew up being very scared of this curse that may or may not actually mean something. and it's cute, too, to think of him growing up and not really ever getting confirmation on how real it is or not….he's eventually going to leave his family to go be a psychonaut, right? it's funnier to keep that curse-fear around. and it makes his upbringing less of a lame punchline.

also just so you know. in my beautiful new land that i am creating now for you there will be no gay and weird retcons of raz's backstory.he really really really does not need to be a special boy with special connections to whatever his whole deal as a guy is infinitely better and funnier if he's just some completely random kid. i don't want him to be special!

with these rules in mind i thin k i can generate an idea of the sequel i would have visualized if i had visualized one before the existence of one had been foisted upon me.

raz could go back to camp a little later, like a year or two or something, and it's winter or fall or something now so he's maybe wearing like a different weather-appropriate outfit. it's novel and cute but true to his nature and probably doesn't fit great. maybe he's got a little scarf on and you can get different ones. anyway he goes back to camp and starts a relationship with a forest animal or something. has to only be one, raz could never and would never practice polyamory of any kind. i'm taking it at face value that lili is a trust fund kid and it won't work between them long term they are destined for turbulent years of on again off again coworker romance that keeps sparking and fizzling out under various circumstances. so he can date some squirrels or foxes or does or whatever on the side. could at least be a solid b-plot or something. non-optional sidequest? whatever. when you first arrive you can wander around or whatever. sashas lab should be immediately accessible and you can go bother him and sheegor (who is voiced by jenny nicholson or someone like that now since tara strong had that really bad car accident). one of these guys can be the first level i guess. sasha should still whinge at you about obtaining consent before thrashing minds but raz should be more openly flippant about this after the cutscene like there's just no way he actually gives a shit about any of that he is far too confident in his own ability to intuit the correct course of action in any situation to care about the consent or comfort of others.

the asylum etc you can get to pretty soon but first you have to get like a saw or something to cut through the ice to free linda. actually maybe linda has passed away and instead of her you get carried over the ice (unneccessary; --> ((joke)))by a bunch of her little babies who she told about you and they love you and have funny little voices. my boss' boss' ex wifes name is linda lol. the asylum is kind of no big deal here on account of it being the last level in the first game. you should be able to ice skate around it and do little tricks that benefit you in no way and do not add to the story at all. probably loboto should be here just like chilling out or something he can be a level you can do. probably this should just be the same as the level he got in rhombus of ruin but like an actual real game that you can play and have fun in and stuff. that was a good backstory for him it's funny if he's sadstuck.

the story should involve brain theft for power generation again because it's a charming and distinct motif and i like when raz steals them back and gives them strange wet kisses. but this time maybe the evil individual in question is enforcing a beam upon the victims that causes their brains to leak out of the ears? the villain should be an electrical engineer or something like that this should be an individual who takes things. designing this thing visually is difficult for me but what i'm thinking is kind of an incarnate of jenkins, the thing what takes, like the real life jenkins but we can just put him in the game and have him wearing an electrician's outfit and he's there and he's the bad guy. just like in real life, jenkins doesn't work superfast or have a really explicit goal, but he does kind of slowly take over everything you know and leaves darkness and lightlessness in his wake. so to add some urgency i think victims of jenkins should become infected with somethingin the cavity where their brains used to be. some kind of fungus or something. there isn't an actual timer on this it's just kind of a concept in the story that makes things feel like they matter more later on. you explore and encounter RANDOM INDIVIDUALS and help them in their various plights and in return acquire items that allow you to progress. you have and maintain the point and click moe it doesnt go away it's there, right there, with you in the room the whole time. i don't have specific level ideas but i have worked out mindscape designs for several different characters from other franchises, most famously spades slick from homestuck so i think it's cool if he's here too maybe you find him in a bunker or something with his crew and connive / force your way into his mind with dubious if any consent and find yourself in hsi strange mind level with lots of slimy black goop all over a card-themed subway and city and mobster-themed brain enemies. that's just my idea i don't think it could be that hard to get hussie on board with this because he obviously doesnt really care that much about the midnight crew anyway.

anyways the plot should be really straightforward you fend jenkins off and save whoever and then the game ends. post credits cute images show razs new life with his forest animal life partner. here's some images i created of the romance sequences one of them is in first person

[pugs-cats-bb-8]

Ship Asks

🏳️‍🌈 A sexuality headcanon

Ren- Bi

How he awakened:

He knew before he came. Maybe it was someone from his previous school.

Someone from a show, anime, movie.

Someone from Shujin. Which would suck, considering no one (except his friends) wants anything to do with him.

Ryuji is the first guy you meet and you see him awaken.

A random NPC or Mementos Mission person. which again is sad.

Yusuke

Akechi

Akechi- Gay

Someone from a show, anime, movie.

Ren

I'd say it's more likely he found out early on and told his mom about some boy at school. So, most likely, she knew or knew what would happen later on.

🧸 A headcanon about their childhood

Akechi grew up poor.

Ren grew up with a bit more money than Akechi.

👻 A headcanon about what scares them

Ren- losing his friends, maybe spiders

Akechi- maybe horror movies, being alone, being loved

👽 A headcanon about a weird quirk of theirs

Ren- is really good with his hands and likes to build stuff.

Akechi- reads romance novels in his spare time.

💤 A headcanon about their sleep

Ren- sleeps like a rock and likes to sleep in.

Akechi- is a light sleeper and gets up early.

💝 A headcanon about their love language

Ren- Acts Of Service, Words Of Affirmation, Quality Time

Akechi- Gifts, Words Of Affirmation, Quality Time

🫂 A friendship headcanon

Ren- He thought Ryuji was a little weird at first.

Akechi- goes shopping with Ann and Sumi. Somehow gets along with Ryuji. Finds Yusuke to be cool.

🪢 A headcanon about their family

Ren- whether or not he had a bad relationship with his parents or not before. It's definitely strained after getting sent away.

Akechi- he was his mom's world.

👗 A headcanon about their clothes

Ren is allergic to colour .

Akechi is the gay guy who has no fashion sense.

🌟 A headcanon about their desires/wishes

Ren- wishes that all his friends are happy and that Akechi's near him, if not in his life.

Akechi-wants to be near Ren.

🍫 A headcanon about food

Ren uses food as a love language

Akechi sees food as a status. He seems very flippant about it. He'll eat whatever is the quickest to make.

🎭 A headcanon about what they lie about

Ren- that he's fine and no one needs to worry.

Akechi- that he's fine (he doesn't like pity. But might not mind it occasionally), his feelings

❤️‍🔥 A romantic headcanon

Ren- romantic

Akechi- he might be a secret romantic. But I think it's more possible that he thinks he's unromantic and can't compete(he thinks everything is a computation)/can't woo Ren. But it turns out that he's really observant and knows just what to buy (even if he super stresses over it). Ren loves anything Akechi gets him.

💄 An appearance headcanon

Ren- Except for his hair. His clothes are pretty neat. His room is neat, albeit dusty. He doesn't shave or trim his pubic hair.

Akechi- There's a reason that his fav gifts include a robot vacuum. I don't know if he's totally a slob, but he's not neat like Ren. Akechi outside is neat in physical appearance. I believe he stopped shaving his pubic hair to have some control over his appearance.

🖕 A headcanon relating to anger

Ren- No one has ever seen Ren get really mad. The closet was one palace trip, when everybody started arguing. Ren turned around and everybody shut up. They kept the arguing to a minimum after that.

Akechi- gets cold, unfeeling and sarcastic.

😺 An animal-related headcanon

Ren- wants to adopt every stray cat.

Akechi- tolerates Morgana.

😶 A random headcanon.

Ren- has a glove kink, likes to wear lingerie.

Akechi- likes to wear lingerie. He likes it when Ren tops.

[catharsiswritings]

Sunflowers

How do you deal with a sister who has, as far as you know, never demonstrated sincere regret for any of her actions at any point in her life? This is someone who feels no remorse, no guilt, and if you try to respond to her bad behavior- her response is/was an indignant rage.

When she was younger she was downright sadistic. She's destroy things just to torment me, steal money from me without any remorse and when confronted she's sort of smile with flippant indifference and tell me to "fuck off" or worse, return my anger with her own hateful rage. She'd scream every epithet at me she could think of.

Despite today outwardly being very progressive, she is the only person in my family to ever called me a f**g**. She did it on many occasions, usually when mad at me. She would call things I like "gay" in a pejorative way. She would mock me, and she did this usually because she was just annoyed with me one way or the other. Maybe I was playing piano too loudly or too much, maybe I being an annoying 10 year old kid. Either way, those hateful words stuck with me. I've never forgotten them, or the mocking way she would say it. I can hear the words now, even in my (late?!) thirties.

That was, mind you, 25 years ago. The late 90s and early 2000s were different. Being gay was still incredibly taboo. People didn't talk about it openly in suburban America. Of course I was, and am gay, but I didn't really know it then. So when my sister spewed that vitriolic "Gaaaay!" or "F**G**!" at me, I was really burned into my mind. I don't think Liz was particularly homophobic as a teenager, she probably didn't care, but what Liz did want to do was hurt me. She delighted in trying to hurt me.

I'd play piano a lot as a kid. I'm sure it was annoying to her. Hell it'd be annoying to anyone in the house. My favorite composer was, and still is Debussy. I remember how she loved to mock me by saying "Debussy was gaaaaay", "Piano is gay". Again, I don't think she cared, she was just trying to get a rise out of me. But that was really mild. That was nothing. When she really showed her true colors was when she'd try to slam the piano keyboard cover down on my fingers. She tried to do that a couple of times until she actually hit my fingers one time (I didn't dodge it fast enough like I had the first few times). It hurt like hell and when I screamed at her she backed down and left. I think the only reason she left was because she was worried she'd get in trouble for actually hurting me. I was fine, the wooden keyboard cover had just bonked my fingers pretty badly, but it was blunt and not so heavy, so by itself it didn't cause any damage. Had she done what she had before, when was slam it closed with her arm, she could have probably broken my fingers.

The little gay boy I was, I loved gardening, and most of all I loved sunflowers. I loved how big almost tropical they seemed, and how massive their flowers were. I wanted nothing more than to grow rows and rows of giant sunflowers as a kid. I tried growing them a lot as a kid. The cool and rainy Seattle climate didn't really do them any favors and usually the slugs would get to them before they could establish. Every now and then though, they'd actually grow. I grew a row of them on the back fence. Some of them actually took off and bloomed. And then, right when they were starting to bloom, someone took scissors to them and cut their heads right off. I was devastated. This sensitive little gay boy cried. My sister blamed the neighbor girl Barbara. I was mad about it but part of me wondered if Barbara actually did it. I hardly knew her, why would she do that on someone else's property?

The next year it happened again. Cut down before I could ever see them bloom. That confirmed it, I knew it wasn't Barbara. It was Liz. Liz just wanted to see me cry again. Again, she just wanted to hurt me. I was angry, but I knew if I let her know it was her, she's react not with guilt, not with remorse, but with rage. I couldn't let her know I was angry, so I buried it, because if I let her know I was angry, she's make my life hell.

I didn't try growing sunflowers again until she moved out, and I never planted them with the same exuberance . After she moved out and before I went to college I was able to enjoy a couple of years of flowering sunflowers.

I understand that as developing children we all have varying levels of empathy and understanding for others. Usually kids are pretty self-centered and lack empathy when really young, and as I understand it, as their brains develop, so does their ability to understand other points of view and empathize for others. Some people never develop this. There's a fair number of people remain devoid of empathy their whole lives. Liz was in her teens when the above mentioned things happened.

I wonder often how much I'm like her. We share most of the same genes I figure. A few years ago she mentioned that her DNA test said she had the "warrior gene". Might I have the same borderline sociopathic tendencies that she does? I have to remind myself that there are lots of things I regret in life, people I have hurt and regret hurting, and mistakes that I wish I could undo. I also have empathy for the pain of other folks. But all the same, I try to keep this in my mind- don't be like her. Don't act like she does.

I own a house with my partner now. I'm trying to figure out a good place to plant some sunflowers next year.

[tropes-and-tales-archives]

Silver Linings, Chapter Eight

Word Count:  2610

TW:  Frank discussion of domestic violence and injuries; talk of stalking.

AN:  Part of a series.  The series masterlist here.

Sometimes Amanda Rollins felt like the biggest fuck-up in SVU.  She’d gone through her fair share of rough patches with her gambling debts, and addiction, and issues with her sister.  In those times, she felt like a failure when compared to the cool competence of Liv or Fin, or even Nick, who punched his way into his fair share of avoidable problems.  

Other times, though, she felt like she was the only one who could see the obvious.  She knew everyone had blind spots.  Herself, she struggled with men in power.  She knew Nick struggled with victims of domestic violence.  Fin had a blind spot with gay victims, overcompensating with lingering guilt about how he handled his own son’s coming out.  The new guy, Carisi, seemed to struggle with cases involving the Catholic Church.  Liv had her own issues too.

But sometimes Amanda saw what everyone else missed.  Call it a hunch or the finely honed intuition of a seasoned detective who’d been through her own traumatic hell…like your blow-up in Barba’s office.  Barba had only seen an assistant losing her shit.  Liv had only smirked at Barba – there was probably some story there.

Amanda had seen it, clear as day.  She knew you a bit from her own cases that went through Callier.  You were always smiling and friendly and completely professional.  That day in Barba’s office, though, Amanda had seen your face twist, first in disbelief and then in anger.  

And it had been triggered by Barba’s flippant attitude about a domestic violence victim.

Amanda knew that such a sudden flare up of anger could only come from one place:  you’d obviously been in a similar situation.  Maybe it was a friend, or maybe you grew up with it.  Either way, neither Liv nor Barba saw it, so Amanda stayed back and tried to convince the ADA to go easy on you.

A few weeks later, Amanda was in Callier’s office for a possible case of rape in the third degree.  You greeted her and offered her coffee, and then offered her a seat until Callier was available.  You were back to your completely professional self, and Amanda looked you over.  

You looked, frankly, like shit.  You could probably fool other people, but Amanda noticed the little details.  Your smile didn’t reach your eyes.  Your jaw clenched and unclenched as you sat at your desk.  You rarely wore much makeup, but you had spackled concealer under your eyes, probably to cover dark circles.

Callier came out and led Amanda into her inner office, and they reviewed the evidence that Amanda had so far.  The young ADA seemed comfortable with the case and agreed that it could proceed, so she agreed to get a warrant for the suspect’s apartment.  Amanda wished it could always be that pleasant, dealing with the law side of the house.  Callier was no-nonsense and never smirked like Barba did.

On her way out, Amanda stopped by your desk.  You looked up and gave her a tired smile.

“Get everything you need?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Amanda replied.  “Rose is easy to deal with.”

You smiled at the implication – but then your face turned serious.  “I wanted to apologize for that day in Mr. Barba’s office.”  You shook your head.  “It was very unprofessional.”

Amanda waved you off.  “Don’t.  We all have bad days, and I’m always up for watching Barba get yelled at.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“He’s a big boy,” Amanda insisted.  “He can take it.  Besides, that woman flipped on her husband, so Barba was wrong.”  She looked at you.  “No one is beyond hope.”

“Maybe.”  You turned back to your computer.  “Good luck with your new case.”

-----

It was a few weeks later.  Amanda was covering the night shift with Fin, and it was quiet for a Friday.  Amaro was with his daughter who was visiting for the weekend, Carisi was studying for one final push before sitting for the bar, and Liv had been whisked off by Cassidy for some sort of reconnecting, romantic bullshit mini-vacation.  Amanda worked on CommStat reporting and pretended not to see Fin nodding off in his corner.

She was halfway through the shift when her phone rang.  It roused Fin from his dozing as she listened.  It was a sergeant with the 24th precinct.

“We have a strange situation,” the sergeant said.  “We’d like to send a potential victim over to you.”

Amanda’s ears pricked up at the term potential victim, but when the sergeant gave your name as the person he was sending over…her heart sank.

*****

Of all the emotions you’d felt in your life with Mark, the sudden calm that you felt now was new.  It wasn’t just calm either – it was an absolute stillness that had settled over your soul.  No anger or fear or sadness.  Just calm.

You had ended up at the SVU precinct.  Amanda had questioned you briefly, and then she got you a cup of tea that you let get stone-cold while she disappeared for a while.  She was probably calling Liv for instructions.

Then Detective Tutuola came into the room, followed close behind by Amanda.  He asked if you needed anything else, and you shook your head.  He settled into the seat by you, and Amanda sat across from you.  They asked you to walk they through everything.

You nodded, took a deep breath, and told your story.  Everything.

It was important in your mind to get it all down on paper.  You were convinced now that Mark was never going to let you go.  You’d hoped, a year ago, that time and distance would make him get bored with you and move on, but that wasn’t the case.

So you told the detectives your story, and you felt a sort of emptying when you did.  You told them how you started dating Mark in middle school, and how it had been fine for a while because you were young and didn’t know any better.  Dated through high school.  Dated when you both were accepted to Stanford.  Dated when you graduated and got accepted to Stanford Law, and when Mark failed out his junior year.

“By then, he was starting to be abusive,” you explained.  “But just verbally.  Mentally.  He estranged me from my friends and most of my family.  My mom loved him, thought he was the greatest guy ever.  My dad saw through him though.”

You told them how the physical abuse started soon after you got accepted to Stanford Law.  It was already a sticking point that you’d gotten your bachelor’s where Mark had failed out.  He took out his feelings of inadequacy with his hands – first just shoves and slaps, then fully curled fists.  

“I ended up dropping out before my final year,” you said with a sad shrug.  “It was too hard to keep up with class when I was always in the E.R. or nursing fresh injuries.  Another thing he took from me.”

You told them how Mark kept you cut off from the world.  He tracked your cell phone, kept tabs on your laptop. Refused to marry you – told you that he could always do better – but refused to cut you loose.  

He dealt you a concussion once, and it was the first time he knocked you unconscious.  You filed a police report after that.  Nothing came of it, so you finally had the courage to get a restraining order.  And you ran for the first time.

“It didn’t really work,” you explained.  “I was working for the California Innocence Project in San Diego.  He found me there.  Broke my arm.”

“Didn’t he get locked up for violating the restraining order?” Amanda broke in.

The smile you gave her dripped with bitterness.  “Mark is a cop.  Thin blue line.  Cops stick together, and Mark always had a story that people bought.  He’s charming and handsome.  I’m just the hysterical ex-girlfriend.  Broke my own arm to make him look bad, I guess.”

You explained how Mark followed you across California.  You were unwilling to travel too far, but when your father dropped dead from a massive coronary, you suddenly had no reason to stay.

“I went to Portland for a few months, then Chicago.  My suitemate from college had an in with the Manhattan District Attorney’s office, so I came here.”  You shrugged.  “I have half of a very good law degree, so I got the job.”

“Tell me about what’s been going on recently,” Tutuola said, and you took a deep, steadying breath.

Amanda and Tutuola listened as you explained the past month – hang ups from unlisted numbers, a few times when your apartment’s front door intercom went off.  How your restraining order expired and you couldn’t get it renewed.  How you got emails from burner addresses that said, simply, “I see you.”

“And there’s this,” you finally said.  You reached into your purse and pulled out a plain white envelope.  It looked like the address was typed across the front of it.

Amanda opened it and pulled out a piece of paper.  “It’s blank,” she said.  She held it to her nose, - it smelled like it had been soaked in cheap drugstore perfume.

You nodded.  “Yes, but do you smell it?”  You gave that bitter smile again.  “Mark hated the perfume I wore.  He wanted me to wear something more musky.  He bought me a bottle of the stuff he liked once, I told him I preferred something lighter.”  You paused.  “That was the first time he hit me.”

Amanda slid the blank paper back into the envelope while Tutuola made a note on his legal pad.  

“I know none of this proves anything,” you continued.  “I know the standard of proof is a preponderance of evidence.  Mark is clever.  I know it’s him but I can’t prove it, and I think that is half the game for him.  But this…” You tapped the envelope.  “This proved he knows where I live now.  It was in my mail box when I got home this evening.  It’s meant to send a message, but bringing it to the cops means nothing for a case.”

“We could pull evidence from your original case in California,” Amanda offered.  “Start building a new case…”

“No,” you shook your head.  “Half of the reports I filed on him were with his own department.  I bet they’ve been shredded.  He worked in our hometown’s police force and that’s where the real abuse started.  I was young and dumb and thought cops were good then.”  You looked at them.  “No offense.”

Tutuola waved you off.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“And the only person who ever truly believed I was being abused was my dad.  Who’s dead now.  Everyone else was charmed by Mark.  My own mom would probably tell you that I’m overreacting and that Mark was nothing but a perfect gentleman.  That I’m a klutz who’s given herself a concussion and a greenstick fracture.”

Amanda gazed at you a moment.  “We’ll figure something out.  I promise.”

You gave her a smile, but you could feel the tears threatening to fall.  “There’s nothing to figure out,” you told her.  You reached out and tapped on Tutuola’s notes.  “It’s just, if something happens to me, I want people to know.”  You swiped at your face, almost angrily, as one tear and then another rolled down the side of your nose.

“We’ll talk to the D.A.’s office,” Tutuola insisted.  “We protect our own here in New York, and that includes you.”

“Don’t bother,” you replied.  You stood up to leave.  “I never sat for the bar and even I could tell you that there’s no case.  But now you know.”  You swiped the heel of your hand against your eyes again, wiping away the tears.  

*****

Amanda tried to drive you home, but you only waved her off.  She was concerned about the situation in general, but you just seemed like you’d given up.  Aside from a few tears at the end of your interview, there was no emotion.  Just a flat-affect with some bitterness as you walked her and Fin through a veritable lifetime of trauma.

She sat and typed up her own notes with Fin’s, and then she thought about next steps.  You were probably right – there was no actual case since nothing could be proven.  Still…she logged into the FBI’s National Crime Information Center and searched on your ex’s name.

By the time Liv returned to work on Monday morning, a file folder was waiting on her desk for her, and it contained a lot more information than just SVU’s own notes.  There had been at least one person in your ex’s own police department looking out for you because everything was filed and available in NCIC.

*****

It was late Monday morning when Liv came striding into Rafael’s office.  He was just back himself from a meeting with McCoy, and he had only settled at his desk when Carmen announced his visitor.

“Liv,” he said, standing to greet her with a smile.  “What do you need?  Warrant, advice, or a legal miracle?”

“I’m good on warrants, so maybe the other two.”  She took off her coat and settled into the seat across from him, but she didn’t return his smile.  “I need advice first.”

“Okay….”  He drew out the word and sat back down.  He leaned back and kicked his feet up on his desk.  “Go ahead.”

“Theoretically speaking,” she started, and Rafael could see her choosing each word carefully.  “What legal recourse would a person have if they were a victim of domestic violence, had a period of quiet, and then started to experience harassment from their abuser?”  Rafael started to open his mouth, but Liv held up a quieting hand.  “And there’s no way to prove the current harassment?”

“Restraining order,” he said.  “It’s the best you can do, until proof of the harassment can be obtained.”  He looked at her a long moment.  “That was an easy question.  You take the long walk here just to ask that?”

“So there’s nothing else that can be done?”

He shook his head.  “Not in New York.”

“What if she had a restraining order in another state, and when it expired, she couldn’t renew here?”

He frowned.  “She should have been able to, depending on the judge she got.”

“She wasn’t able to.”

“This doesn’t sound theoretical anymore.”  He nodded at the file in Liv’s lap.  “You have a case?”

She hesitated.  “Yes and no.  No proof yet.  Just prior bad acts and…an interview with the complainant.”

He arched an eyebrow at this and she continued.  “Again, there’s no proof.  But she went to her local precinct to, quote ‘get information down on paper in case something happened to her.’  And the 24th went ahead and sent her to us.”

The 24th precinct was his own local police precinct.  Rafael’s interest was sufficiently piqued, and he held out a hand for the file.

Liv hesitated again as she held the file up.  “I’m only bringing it to you because you were the best option,” she said.  “O’Dwyer would slam the door on me for such a non-case.”  Another pause.  “And Callier is a conflict of interest.  You are too, I suppose, but desperate times…”

Rafael removed his crossed feet from his desk and surged forward to snatch the file out of Liv’s hand.  He didn’t even have to open it – your name, last name comma first name, was printed in Amanda’s recognizable scrawl across the file tab.  He felt his stomach sink, but he settled back in his seat and opened the folder.

[batimcthulhu]

Really loving the pride pic! You go boys! I got thinking about it for a while though, and I'd like to know, if Prophet had a slice of cake, would it be different flags/colors than Sammy's? I mean they started as the same person, but I don't wanna assume that they share everything in common when they might not.

[Voice of Shazz]

Man.... what a good question.

Sometimes, I think, someone is so caught up in a worldview that doesn’t allow them to seek their own happiness, that identity isn’t something they can think about or accept yet, and you can't assign them one if they aren't ready.

Prophet definitely still has particular feelings about gender, though they manifest a little differently to Sammy’s – the Masked Messenger’s short-lived gift of a masculine body is one of the reasons he believes his horrible god truly understands and cares for him, and it also contributes to him being more flippant and detached towards the body he’s currently stuck with. He still experiences romantic and sexual attraction/desire, so it wouldn’t be hard to shove him in the same categories and call it a day.

But there’s more to identity than just checking off the boxes of what could technically apply. There’s a reason Jack had four different flags to represent his complex feelings about queerness, while all of Joey’s complicated feelings were collected under the single rainbow umbrella of “gay” – what you see in yourself and how you understand & accept yourself is a big part of it, and even though the boys don’t have a lot of the words we have now, they know these things are true about themselves. Henry just thinks he’s “picky” because he doesn’t have the word “asexual” in the 1930s, and he doesn’t have the word “queerplatonic” to describe him and Linda, but he knows that what Joey wanted with him doesn’t fit who he is, and what he has with Linda fits perfectly. 

And in that respect, the Prophet’s identity is so tied up in the Masked Messenger that he’d be unlikely to answer these questions in any satisfying way. What do his body or his feelings matter? He will become whatever his Lord wills! Something beyond this small form’s comprehension – it may seem painful, but it will be something more wonderful than he can imagine from here…!

The truth is, I think, that he needs time. He DOES have his own identity, which may or may not mirror Sammy's, but he has to be willing to see it, and nobody else can assign him one -- he has to be willing to accept himself as more than a fully surrendered vessel.

[taki118]

Go Watch the Venture Brothers

So just heard the complete and utter Bullshit news that Adult Swim has cancelled one of (if not the best shows) they have the Venture Bros. This series is one of those shows that for WHATEVER reason never got to the level of fandom Rick and Morty has even though they’ve been at the genre parody game longer and in my opinion better. 

The series is about Rusty Venture former boy adventurer and failing super scientist who in an attempt to keep his head above water in debt goes around with his two boys Hank and Dean, and bodyguard Brock on misadventues while various legal archnemisis go after him, such as the Monarch. 

So if you never watched or never heard of this 7 season series let me give you a break down on why you should, 

1) Art Style & Animation

Venture bros is one of those rare Adult aimed animated series that that really truly tries to utilize their medium to the best of their abilities. Season 1 had like such a small budget and corners had to be cut so it can be a little hard to watch at times. 

But with each passing season they get a little better, a little more fluid, go just a little harder and it truly feels rewarding to watch. Like seeing an artist you follow online improve over the years. Like they COULD have stayed with the choppy and stiff animation from season 1 it fit right in with its fellow adult animated shows but it didn’t. They strove for quality to have something that matched the story they were telling.

2) The Writing 

Venture Bros has some of the tightest and consistently great writing of ANY serialized show I’ve seen, adult, animated or other wise. Wanna know why? Cause it’s all done by TWO people (save for like one ep each season where one other person is allowed to touch their baby). Yeah TWO people and they work their asses off every season to interject, humor, refrences, parody, plot and character development in equal measure. 

3) Character Development

Um yes in case you were wondering that’s right an adult animated show has CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT  that holds as the series goes on. Not to give spoilers but characters will go through changes in alignment, relationships will develop and change, some characters will go through negative arcs where they are straight up unbareable for a season before coming out the other side even better than they were before. There is no end of epsiode or even end of season reset. Characters, settings, and dynamics all change over the course of the show and it feels just so god damn good.

4) Story Development 

Just like the characters the story of the Venture Bros grows and changes each season. Things that are set up even as early as season one are paid off as the series goes on. Like not to be that bitch but you know how RIck and Morty teases an overarching plot ALL THE TIME but like will often just spit in the face of fans hoping for more than like one episode a season addressing it? Yeahhhhhhh that doesnt happen here, fans are consistently rewarded for putting the time in to rewatch and really think about what happened in the series. Characters that are seen in the background or are just referenced by other characters will be brought in to be recurring characters, things that start off as a small detail or gag will be given larger relevance and each time they do this you get that “OH I remember that from last season! So thats what it was!” The writers WANT you to rewatch, they WANT you to analyze and they WANT you to theorize, and they give you a show that gives back the time you put in.

5) Parody & Reference 

This series does a great thing with parody. They make real characters  who are just as enjoyable as the characters they parody, they make story lines that both poke fun at the absurdity of the media but shows the writers love for it. So often parody and references are just used to mock the thing but with Venture Bros you feel the love and care so when you know the thing being parodied you can laugh but feel good about laughing cause they are never laughing at a thing maybe you cared for in your youth but rather laughing with it.

And it’s never just one thing. When they parody a thing its often layered with other things to make it even more unique. Scooby-Doo is overlayed with famous criminals, Laura Croft is mixed Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, GI Joe is given the look of the Village People and so on. They never go for the easy joke or reference. Hell theres an episode that starts with them reciting the lyrics to David Bowies Space Oddity for really no reason other than they could. They weave these things in naturally with their setting and characters so nothing feels out of place. Like if you dont catch a reference or parody you dont feel like “I think this isa reference to something?” like a LOT of things do not just adult animated shows. You arent taken out of the moment cause it all feels so natural. 

6) The Characters 

God damn these characters, I could go on for hours about these characters. From main to one off these are some of the most likeable characters you can find. I mean it when I say I can’t think of a single character I wish they had cut cause they are all so well created. Even the ones I hate i have fun hating cause they were made to be that way. I’ll be good though I’ll only talk about my absolute top faves.

- The Monarchs

You ever sit and wish villain couples could have functional  healthy relationships? Well look no further than Malcom Fitzcarraldo aka The Monarch and Dr. Shelia Girlfriend (yes that is her last name). The Monarch is a high strung impulsive saturday morning cartoon villain whos tendency to over react is only matched by his unspecified hatred of Dr. Venture. And Dr. G is his nonsense partner in crime who will cut a bitch if they don’t play by their admittedly weird rules. Both characters are great on their own but are better together. Though that doesnt mean they always get along. Like a real couple they have their ups and downs they fight, break up, make-up and grow stronger in their relationship with each season. 

- Shore Leave

Ok ok so I want you to imagine James Bond, mixed with GI Joe simmering in a cocktail of the most flamboyant gay men you have ever seen and you have one of my favorite gay characters/characters in general. Shore Leave is a member of OSI (the shows SHEILD/GI Joe parody organization) he’s loud, brash, flippant, sassy and highly competent at his job loving every second of getting to beat bad guys down within an inch of their life. I love seeing him play off the stoic Brock and the two have this great brotherly dynamic that’s never called into question. He also gets to have a very cute romance with Al the Alchemist (who is also great). I could talk about this man all day.

- Dr. Rusty Venture

They did such a good job with this man. He’s a self serving, sexist, perverted, whinny, self important asshole and yet you feel pity and genuine sympathy for him and want him to succeed. You can see how Dr. V was given a raw deal by his father who seemed to care more about his adventures than his sons well being and how this molded him into the bitter man he is today, but on the flip side you can see where he chose to use that as a crutch for his worst behaviors and impulses. Seeing him slowly grow and change and be an actual good father to his boys while all the while still be a giant dick is actually really great. 

- Dr. Byron Orpheus 

Ahhhhh Dr. Orpheus part Dr. Strange Parody part busybody stay at home dad, he’s just such a delight. Dr. Orpheus is a divorcee, with an unfulfilling job of maintaining order to the cosmos (which isnt as hard as one might think), and uses his magical ablities in ways most of us would (ie menial tasks and home chores). Overly dramatic and affectionate Dr. O is a delight whenever he appears, but he’s at his best around his daughter and old friends The Order of the Triad. 

Again I can go on but all these characters ranging from main to recurring are crafted with the utmost care for you to want to see them succeed or fail, to see them again even if you know it’ll never happen, and want them to cross paths with other characters. 

The Venture Bros is one of those series that I will ALWAYS recommend even to the pickiest of humor tastes. But if you don’t believe its as good as I said or don’t think the concept is to your tastes I’ll recommend a few eps that I think best show off the base idea of the series without giving much away. In terms of plot and spoilers, though somethings wont make a lot of sense. 

- S1 ep10 "Tag Sale – You're It!" - Dr. V is having a yard sale so of course all manner of costumed weirdos show up.  - S2 ep5 "Twenty Years to Midnight" - basically a fetch quest around the world to save the planet with daddy issues - S3 ep2 "The Doctor Is Sin" - Again daddy issues but with one of the best recurring characters and a great showcase of the series deeper emotional plots - S4 ep6 "Self-Medication" - Really embraces the parody as Rusty goes to a former boy adventurer support group.  Anyway the show is 7 seasons with 80 episodes, please go watch it. I will never forgive @adultswim​ for cancelling what was to be their final season. And in closing GO TEAM VENTURE!

[oneletteredwondered]

One of the Boys

Virgil is a new tenant to an apartment complex and his landlord seems real nice. He told Virgil that should he ever need anything fixed to just give a call. He managed to get over the anxiety of calling someone for help, now he needs to get over the gay panic he experiences every time his landlord sends ‘one of the boys’ over.

Pairing: Everyone has a crush on Virgil who is also gay for everyone.

Warnings: panic descriptions from talking over the phone/to new people. Possible second hand embarrassment, swearing

Prompt pic at the end.

--

In all fairness, Virgil loves his new place. Way more than the old place he used to live at least. At least here the walls weren’t cracked and seemed sturdy enough that he wouldn’t be able to hear his neighbors through them. While he does his sweep of the place, writing down anything that might be wrong so the landlord can’t blame them on him, there’s barely anything broken or messed up. A clear step up from his old apartment.

“What you say Oogies?” Virgil nods to the black cat lounging on the cat tower after he’s finished his walk through. The cat stares at him, he stares back. They blink slowly at the same time and Virgil puffs out a breath. OogieBoogie wasn’t fond of the move. Complaining loudly at every jostle of the cat carrier. Virgil wanted to let her out but couldn’t until all his stuff was moved in for her safety. Seems like he’s forgiven.

“Come on lazy bones,” He finagles the cat out of the tower and she curls over his shoulders, paws dipping into the hood of his hoodie, and purrs. He smiles and scratches at her chin. For the most part she blends into the patterned fabric, her grey stripes the only thing that pop out, and even then only barely.

Virgil locks the apartment door, cat on his shoulders, and walk-through papers in hand. They walk their way around the complex and to the main office building. Virgil almost hesitates, thinking maybe he should go tomorrow morning at a better time, but OggieBoogie nuzzles his head encouragingly.

“Yeah okay,” He whispers to the animal, knowing she’s smug as he opens the door. It’s fluorescently bright. There’s no one at the front desk. Virgil takes two steps, and nearly backs out, when a friendly face pops out of one of the offices.

“Oh Virgil!” Virgil lets out a sigh of relief. He recognizes the elderly face 

“Hey Mr Sanders,” He gives an awkward wave. The cheery man laughs.

“You may call me Thomas you know,” He says smiling at his cat and waving to the animal. She blinks at him.

“Right, yeah, course, Mr. Thomas yeah,” Virgil says. Thomas gives him a fond smile but doesn’t correct him. Thank god. Thomas helped him fill out lease papers when he first came to check out new apartments. Honestly a blessing as Virgil had no idea what he was doing. Bonus that Thomas professed the place to be queer friendly as well. Virgil hung up his rainbow flag in the window the moment he found it.

“Oh I brought the walk through papers back,” He hands them over and Thomas takes them happily. 

“Everything good so far?” He asks. Virgil nods, nothing on there that he thought needed fixing, at least right away.

“Oh,” Thomas says softly. Virgil tenses and Oogie starts purring on his shoulder to comfort him.

“Are you having problems with the lights?” Thomas asks, very sincerely. Virgil shrugs a little and Oogie shifts to accommodate his motions.

“Not really, nothing serious,” He tries to play it off. Thomas pouts at his papers.

“Some of the plugs not screwed in properly, not working, a light out in the laundry area,” Thomas ‘tsks’ as he reads off Virgil’s writing. He perks up and offers Virgil a bright smile.

“No worries at all! I’ll send one of the boys over to fix it.” He offers Virgil a wink and riffles through his pockets. He pulls out his wallet and inside it a business card for the office that he promptly hands over.

“You ever need anything fixed, do not be afraid to call ya hear?” Virgil just nods, taking the card with him.

“Wait the boys?” He finds himself questioning. Thomas smiles again with a flippant wave of his hand.

“It’s the name of the contractor company I have hired here for the apartments. Someone should be over in about an hour to help you with the lights.” And with that Thomas is walking away to his own office, leaving Virgil to go back to his new home.

“Shit,” He mutters as he now realizes. Company coming over, and his new home is a mess. He walks quicker than he normally does to try and clean a little before ‘one of the boys’ makes it over. Oogie is not as impressed.

--

Virgil does well distracting himself. He organizes the boxes and even rearranges the hazardously brought in furniture to his liking. Oogie is lounging in her cat tower again, watching him try not to be frantic. He’s in the middle of putting some tupperware containers in the cabinets when there’s a knock on the door.

He wipes his hands on his jeans to make sure they’re not sweaty, and opens the door. Somewhere in the back of his mind he debates slamming it shut but in the end remains frozen with the front door wide open. Cause there in front of him is an absolutely gorgeous guy, hair slicked back and a cunning smile.

“Good afternoon, my name is Damien. Mr. Sanders said you needed help with some of your lights?” His voice sounds like silk and though there’s a long scar across side of his face, it takes nothing away from his beauty.

“Uh yeah.” Virgil says awkwardly.

“Yeah, yeah,” He says even more awkwardly and moves to the side to let the guy in.

“Much appreciated,” The guy, Damien says. Virgil can’t tell if the dude is cheeky or not, but damn is he flustered trying not to stare at his arms and the way he moves in those white jeans. Who wears white jeans to fix things? Virgil should send them a thank you note.

“Which plugs were having issues?” Damien asks then and Virgil decides words are not needed just this moment and deigns to gesture as best he can. Damien smiles at him and sets to work straightening some of the plugs out and replacing one in the corner when he notices a crack in the casing.

“Excuse me, miss.” He hears Damien say and peeks over his kitchen counter to see Damien gently nudging Oogie away from some of his tools. Virgil whines.

“Oogies come on let the man do his job,” Virgil goes over and scoops the cat up, petting her head to keep her from getting annoyed that she couldn’t continue with her curiosity. Damien laughs though and stands, now taking out the walk through Virgil so diligently wrote not 2 hours ago.

“You said that some of the plugs don’t work and that some of the switches don’t lead to anything?” He glances at Virgil with just a hint of a smirk. Virgil hugs Oogie a little tighter to keep his gay panic from spiraling.

“Yeah just seemed weird? I didn’t know if it was something wrong or what,” He says with a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. Damien lets out a small laugh and waves Virgil to follow. He pulls out a small plug in light and pushes into one of the sockets Virgil said wasn’t working. He flicks the switch on the wall and the light pops on.

“Oh,” Virgil says and wants to die of embarrassment. 

“Well now I feel stupid as fuck,” He says. Damien lets out another laugh, flicking the light twice more to demonstrate.

“It’s to save power that some of the switches lead to the plugs. Nothing broken there. You’re not stupid because you didn’t know.” He takes back his light and once more gives Virgil that sly smile. The worst is he smiles in a way that makes it seem like he knows what he’s doing to Virgil, which is just rude. Except he’s not, Damien is insanely polite which does not help Virgil in the slightest.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Damien asks as he puts the last of his tools back in the case.

“Nah. I’m good, thank you,” Virgil says, determined not to make a fool of himself this time. Damien nods his head.

“Have a good rest of your day then. It was a pleasure meeting you,” And this smug bastard winks at him and closes the door behind him. Virgil lets Oogie fall to the floor, picks up the nearest pillow, and screams into it. At least he can do it with proper working lights.

--

Virgil is freaking out. There’s no other way to put it. He is freaking out. So he got a little lazy and didn’t do his dishes. He’s been working so often and never found the energy to keep up. He decided he had a dishwasher for a reason, and even though he felt bad because the machine wasn’t even full, he ran it, and now there is water over the floor. Shit.

He sits on the couch, legs bouncing, with his phone in his hands. Thomas’s number is on the screen, ready to be dialed at the press of a button. Virgil still isn’t sure if this counts as a proper emergency. He managed to clean up most the water with some of his towels, but water is still coming out. Maybe if he just keeps rinsing out the towels and waits for the cycle to be done, he can pretend it never happened.

OogieBoogie jumps into his lap. She kneeds at his leg and is put out when he doesn’t move right away to pet her or give her proper access to his lap. She bumps her head against him and pushes her way to his chest, knocking his phone with her foot in the process.Virgil hisses at the action and ruffles her face in revenge.

“Hello?” A very faint voice calls out. Virgil swears softly and picks up his phone.

“Uh Mr Sanders Thomas?” He says into the receiver, then pulls it away to stare at the ceiling to briefly wonder what is wrong with himself.

“Yes?” Thomas says on the other line.

“It’s Virgil from Unit 16 B.”

“Virgil! How are you?” Thomas doesn’t sound put out that Virgil is calling him, which is a good sign so far. Virgil takes a deep breath, hands working methodically though Oogie’s fur.

“Doing okay yeah, how are you?” He says, it’s important to be polite. Thomas laughs.

“Doing good over here. What can I help you with?”

“Uhm, my dishwasher is leaking? And there’s water on the floor and I don’t know how to fix it. You said I could call if something is wrong and I just, yeah.” Virgil shrugs to himself. Thomas gasps on the other end.

“Oh no! That won’t do. I’ll send one of the boys over to help clean it up.” And Thomas hangs up. Virgil stares at the phone, then at his cat, then back at the dishwasher. He really doesn’t want Damien to see him embarrassed like this  again. He buries his face in Oogie’s side and lets her purr calm him down. He must be there for a while because soon enough there’s a knock on the door.

Thankfully, it’s not Damien on the other end. However, it’s another incredibly attractive guy with a wild smile and even wilder hair that makes Virgil tense up because how. This one wears a shirt with the sleeves ripped off to show how ripped their arms are, and again, white jeans, though this time, the jeans are not as white as they once were, evidence of the work that has been done in them.

“Afternoodle! I’m Remus. The Sander’s Man said something was wishy-washy with your dishy-washy?” His smile in untamed and Virgil stares at him dumbly trying to understand what the hell just came out of his mouth.

“Yes?” He ends up asking more than saying, and moves over so Remus can come inside.

“Much appreciated, now what is gong on here?” Remus smirks down at the mess of the kitchen with his hands on his hips.

“I just ran the dishwasher and water started coming out. I was in the kitchen when I felt it on my foot.” Virgil explains as Remus moves some of the soaked towels over. He finagles the machine to open, something Virgil was too scared to try.

“Oh boy, I see. Give me one hot second here hot tamale, and I’ll get this all cleaned up.” Virgil isn’t sure what he should be more flustered by. Being called hot by a hot guy, or the fact the dude flexed while talking and there is some serious definition in his arms. So Virgil just nods as Remus skips out to the maintenance golf cart outside the door, and brings back in a tool box.

Virgil watches from over the counter as Remus pulls out the racks and practically crawls his way into the dishwasher. Virgil decides it’s a good time to walk away so he doesn’t end up staring at Remus’s ass while he works. That’s not proper behavior for someone who is trying to help.

It’s a few minutes, one colorful yet not quite a swear, and a victory noise later that Virgil feels okay going back to the kitchen area.

“Oh! Hello~ pusspuss!” Virgil gets to watch the exact moment Remus looks up to see Oogie staring at him working. Virgil scoops the cat up.

“Sorry she’s really into strangers.” He says. Though really, she hides from everyone. Remus lets out a cackle of a laugh.

“That’s fine, I’m into strangers too. So I fixed the problem here, no more soggy floors for you. Make sure to run it every so often so it keeps things going clean and unclogged.” Remus says far too quickly for Virgil to respond properly. He picks up his tools and returns them to the case. Virgil does a half-assed job of not staring at his back which is now water soaked.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Remus asks at the door. Virgil shakes his head.

“As long as it works I think I’m good,” He says. Remus smiles openly.

“Have a good rest of your day then!” He says and closes the door behind him. There was really no reason for him to flex as he said that but Virgil enjoyed it and no one else has to know.

--

“Shit shit shit,” Virgil is fumbling. He had to go grocery shopping and get some cat food for OogieBoogieBaby. And no self respecting trash panda such as himself would dream of carrying it back inside in more than one trip. So he’s fumbling with his arms lined with bags that would be cutting into his skin if not for his hoodie sleeves, but even then, those are falling and he wishes it wasn't so hot out.

He manages to make it to his door, shift some bags around so he can get his key out, when the bag of cat food starts slipping. Virgil can see it now, cat food all over the front porch to either collect ants, or other cats, or any other large animal. He wouldn’t feed it to Oogie, to afraid of what is on the ground and if it’ll upset her stomach. He braces for impact and for another quick trip to the store.

“Whoa!” Virgil feels the weight leave him but not the crash. He blinks at the ground, then at a pair of white jeans, then at the bag of cat food in someone else’s arms, then up to the face of a bespectacled stranger with brilliant blue eyes.

��Are you alright?” Stranger asks calmly and takes another bag from Virgil that looks ready to topple at a second’s notice. Virgil snaps out of it once it’s out of his hands.

“Shit yeah thanks,” He breathes out in a rush, thankful as all hell as he manages to finally get the door open. He pushes it with his hip and Oogie is waiting at the door for him, meowing up at him. He coos a greeting to her and sets the bags down in the kitchen, the stranger follows only to the inside door and puts the bags down there to not intrude.

“Thank you so much,” Virgil says once he’s done pretending he can carry that much. The stranger just offers him a small smile, kneeling down to let Oogie sniff his gardening glove covered hands.

“It was my pleasure to help you. My name is Logan, I’m one of the workers on site.” He says and stands. His voice is low and calming, it would make for a great audio book, and Virgil is not going to spend the rest of the day thinking about that.

“Though I do apologize for suddenly grabbing your things, I know that can come across as ‘creepy’ and I do not wish for that to be my first impression.” He pries a glove off and holds out his hand. Virgil takes it and gives it a small shake.

“I’m Virgil, and this is OogieBoogie,” He introduces himself and his cat who has deigned to jump on the counter and sniff at the contraption on Logan’s back. He gently pushes the cat away with a soft look in his eyes.

“Pleasure to meet both of you. None for you I’m afraid,” He chides Oogie gently. Virgil swallows because damn, someone interacting gently with his cat more of a heart throb than originally intended. And Logan is nothing if not simply scholarly stunning.

“My apologies again, be sure to let someone know if there’s anything we can help you with. Have a wonderful rest of your day,” Logan nods his head softly and there is just the smallest crinkle around his eyes hidden under his glasses and Virgil is so weak as he closes the door to his apartment. He’s come into contact with one too many pretty people at this complex and it will be the death of him. Still, it is nice to wave to Logan every so often as he preens the landscaping around the buildings.

--

Virgil watches as water drips down the window. It started the other day after some rains. He put a towel under it to keep some of the water from ruining anything, but it’s still going the next day. Virgil sighs and looks at his phone, Thomas’s number on the screen. He takes a deep breath and presses call.

“Hello?” Thomas answers.

“Hey Mr. Thomas it’s Virgil, from Unit 16 B.” A practiced line. Thomas gives a happy gasp.

“Virgil how are you?” Thomas always sounds excited to speak to him. It helps.

“Doing okay, how are you?” He asks, absently petting Oogie’s back.

“Good good! How can I help you?” Thomas asks in turn. Virgil looks at the window.

“Something’s up with my window? It’s like.. leaking.” He explains but not really. Thomas hums.

“Did this start up with the rain?”

“Yeah, I’ve tried cleaning it with towels but it keeps going.” Virgil says. Thomas makes another hum noise.

“Sounds like a problem with the roof. I’ll send one of the boys over.” And Thomas hangs up. Virgil isn’t as put off with the abrupt ending, expecting it this time around. He glares at the window and goes to wait for ‘one of the boys’. Oogie follows over and demands pets. It a decent distraction till a loud knock comes from the door.

Virgil opens it and it's just unbelievable how down right beautiful this guy is. His hair in perfect waves and a charming smile on his face. His sleeves are also cut like Remus's were, but far less frayed.

"Wonderful morning, my name is Roman. Our dear Mr. Sanders told me there were some ill issues with the roof is that right?" He speaks with such confident flamboyance Virgil is a loss for words.

"Yeah," Is all he manages to say. He's pretty. Way too pretty for this.

"Yeah, sorry it's over here," He turns and leaves the door open for Roman to follow. Roman laughs loud and proud and does just that. Virgil shows him the window and does not bit his lip as Roman jostles the frame showing off muscles that are illegal.

"The panes seems closed but I'll check outside as well." He turns and heads out the door. Virgil follows.

"And the roof?" He asks. Roman offers him a dashing smile, checking his tools that he attaches to his belt, holding up pristine white jeans.

"You may hear some noises for a while as I'm up there, but fear not, I'll find the problem." He gives Virgil a wink and with ease, he finds a ledge on the building and hoists himself up. Virgil does not squeak. Certainly not cause he's scared that Roman will fall, and certainly not cause he rolls his shoulders and Virgil can see his body move and god damn it he’s so not straight.

So he goes inside and pretends there’s not a real attractive guy fixing his roof. The noises of fixing continue for an hour or so, Virgil keeping busy with cleaning and some mild work emails. Then the noises stop. Virgil glances at his ceiling curiously.

"Uh, Roman?" He calls from his front door, making sure the dude didn't fall off and die.

"Be down in a moment fair tenant!" He hears. Virgil rolls his eyes and barely turns when Roman suddenly lands in front of him.

"Roof is all set. There were a few shingles out of-"

"Did you just jump off the roof?!" Virgil interrupts. Roman blinks at him and has the nerve to smiling so dashingly again.

"I dare say I did," he says as if it's no big deal. Virgil sputters at the reckless, careless, brash attitude. Roman is far too entertained by it.

"I'm honored by the concern, dearest. Just one more moment to check the window from the other side." He winks again and is walking around the building before Virgil can say anything.

He grabs Oogie and plants his face in her fur. Too gay to function. He talks to her plainly about how unfair it is that pretty boys plague his life, only to find out he can absolutely be heard through the window by Roman asking in a muffled voice.

"You think I'm pretty?" Virgil screams and hides in his room, hearing Roman laugh through the wall. This is how he dies, he decides. This is even worse than the time Damien had to tell him his lights weren’t broken, he just didn’t know how to use them. This is so much worse.

He groans loud and dramatically when there’s a knock on his front door. He doesn’t want to open it. But he does, cause it’s rude other wise.Roman stands there, smug expression and a bright smile.

“Checked everything and cleaned up some water. A few shingles out of place and a loose vent, got those all patched down. If it continues to leak it might be a bigger issue so be sure to call if it does. Anything else I can help you with?” He asks. Virgil takes a steady breath to say no.

“I think I’ve dug my own grave enough for today,” He says, further digging his own embarrassment grave. Roman gives another laugh.

“Enchanted to meet you pretty boy, have an amazing rest of your day.” And then Roman honest to goodness bows and drives off in the golf cart. Virgil closes his door softly and looks at Oogie who stares back from her perch on the counter.

“Don’t even start,” He tells the cat. She looks away like she doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

--

“Boogs! No!” Virgil does not like shouting at his cat. He doesn’t like shouting in general. But it gets OogieBoogieBitchBaby away from the wall she is using as a scratching post. She scampers off as he approaches, fingers going over the claw marks in the wall. He groans to himself.

He moved her cat tower because she kept getting onto his work papers. In revenge for disposing her from her favorite perch and sights of the room, she clawed at the wall instead, leaving a few nasty scratches behind.

“How am I supposed to fix this?” He asks where she’s run off, hearing her run around. He bangs his head on the wall. This is not how he wanted his night to go. In the end, he has Thomas’s number on his phone and piece of paper he tore to shreds in worry over what he could possibly say.

“Hello?” Thomas answers.

“Hey Mr. Sanders, it’s Virgil. I-”

“Virgil! How are you?” Thomas asks. Virgil takes a deep breath.

“I’m- I’m so sorry Mr. Sanders. It was an accident I swear.” He needs to apologize, cause if Mr. Sanders kicks him out, he’ll have to go hunting for places to live again, and who is going to take him with a cat who destroys things, and then because no one will take him, he’ll die on the streets and Oogie will eat his toes.

“My cat Oogie she got upset with me and she clawed the wall and I’m so sorry,” He says in a rush.

“Hey, hey Virgil it’s okay. It happens, our furry friends do funny things. I’ll send one of the boys over to help fix it right up, okay?” Virgil swallows a lump in his throat at Thomas’s easy solution.

“Okay,” He croaks out and then hears the click of someone hanging up. He lets his phone drop and then puts his head in his hands. He doesn’t want to be kicked out his apartment, or to have Mr. Sanders think bad of him as a tenant, or as a bad pet owner. He throws himself back on his couch. He feels so dumb.

Thankfully, there’s a gentle knock to his door. Hopefully his savior in this mess. He opens it to bubbly boy in round glasses, giving him the most cheerful smile Virgil’s ever seen.

“Hey there, evening to you, my name is Patton. Mr. Sanders said we have some kitty claws on the walls?” He asks. Virgil lets his shoulders drop.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry about it.” He says Patton waves his hand.

“It’s not a cat-astrophe, it happens. Can you show me where it is?” He asks. Virgil nods and steps back to let the boy in white jeans in, then pauses.

“Did you just make a pun?” He deadpans. And Patton giggles.

“Sorry, sorry, just slipped out. I’m pawfully bad at them.” He says with a bright smile. Virgil stares at him, then snorts into his hand.

“That was really bad,” He says but Patton just beams at him.

“Got you to laugh though.” And Patton should not sound so proud of making a stranger laugh. Virgil coughs to cover his awkward and shows him where Oogie got to the wall and Patton ‘tuts’ in response, putting down a bag of tools on the floor.

“I have just the thing to get this back in purr-fect conditions.” Patton opens his bag and pulls out some paint and calking. Virgil steps back to let him do his job, very aware that Oogie is hiding somewhere away from him. It makes him nervous to not see his cat in the area. Sure Oogie isn’t a registered therapy animal, but she does a good job of keeping him calm.

“There, al-meow-st done!” Patton smiles at him over his shoulder and adds another coat of paint to the wall, looking good as new. Maybe it’s the puns or the cute, but Virgil does relax.

“Thanks for that.” Virgil says as Patton cleans up. He giggles once more and waves Virgil’s concern off again.

“It’s no big deal, it’s what we’re here for.” He reassures. Virgil sighs and turns to the small meow behind him. Oogie is on the table staring at him. Patton lets out a squeal of happiness.

“Oh she’s precious!” He says in syrupy sweet voice. Virgil snorts again and looks between the two.

“Wanna pet her?” He asks and before he finishes Patton is shaking his head.

“Un-fur-tunately I’m allergic. But she is paws-itively adorable.” Patton coos and waves to the cat, Oogie does nothing in return but that’s to be expected. Virgil rolls his eyes at the both of them.

“Thanks again for your help,” He says. Patton beams and there are freckles on his cheeks. Freckles, too cute, not allowed.

“Of course! Anything else I can help you with?” He asks. Virgil’s turn to shake his head.

“I think we’re good now,” He says. Patton giggles once more.

“Have a claw-some rest of your night,” And that shouldn’t be funny but Virgil snorts again and Patton is proudly walking off.

--

What the fuck, what the fuck. Virgil stares at the door knob in his hand. He just went for a late walk to get his mail, Oogie joining him on his shoulders. Something rattled in the door knob when he opened it, having to actually shove the door open to get back inside after unlocking it. When he went to close the door, the handle came off in his hand before he could close it proper.

What the fuck.

He stares at the space where the door knob was and his open door. His mind immediately races to all the creepy people who can break in and steal things or kidnap his cat. Or even all the bugs that will make home in his food and hair. Nope. None of that.

“Hey Mr Sanders?” Virgil says first, his anxiety over the open door he can not close for fear it won’t open again overriding his normal fear of calling his land lord.

“Virgil! How are you? It’s very late,” Thomas yawns on the other end. Virgil winces. He probably should have thought this through considering the time.

“I’m okay, so sorry to wake you, it’s just. My door handle uh, fell off?” There’s a pause.

“Well that’s not good.” Thomas says.

“I’ll send one of the boys over.” He hangs up plainly. Virgil has enough time to worry if he made Thomas upset by calling so late, and worry Oogie somehow got out only to find her cuddled in her tower, when the bad lights from the maintenance golf cart shine through the crack in the door.

There’s an awkward knock and Virgil pulls the door open. He’s not sure who in their right mind has sunglasses on this late, but at least this gorgeous person isn’t using them to hide their bright eyes. They give him a quirky smile.

“Well this isn’t something you see every day.” They remark and Virgil has to huff out a laugh, some of his panic subsiding.

“Evening babes, I’m Remy. What happened?” He asks and goes about unscrewing the rest of the door knob, kneeling down and scuffing his white jeans that nearly glow in the darkness. Virgil tells him the lead up and Remy scoffs out a laugh of their own, giving Virgil a glance, that turns into a once over, that shakes him to the core.

“No worries, I can see the broken piece. Easy fix.” He winks at Virgil and gets a spare doorknob from the golf cart. Virgil stand idly by as he fixes it, keeping Oogie from getting too close.

“Wassup cat?” Remy asks and gently puts his knuckles to her head in greeting. She makes a noise and then trots off, satisfied with the attention.

“What’s their name?” Remy asks while he screws things back together.

“That OogieBoogie, Oogie for short, though she’s been more of an OogieBoogieBastard lately.” She meows at Virgil from the top of her tower. He hisses back at her. Remy snorts.

“Nice, I have an orange cat named Pumpkin.”

“Nice,” Virgil says back. Remy smirks at his response and keeps working. Vigil pretends the look on Remy’s face didn’t give him reckless night vibes, that he would take Remy up on if he asked, cause damn, the dude’s hot.

“May I borrow your key for a second babes?” Remy twists the knob a few times and with Virgil’s borrowed key, closes, locks, and opens the door with no problems.

“All good to go, anything else I can help you with?” He asks as he hands back the key. Virgil shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m good, thanks for that,” He says. Remy gives him a wink.

“Have a good night babes.” Another wicked smirk and Virgil does his best to close his door at a proper speed. His heart is pounding and these pretty boys will be the end of him.

--

“Hi! Welcome in, how can I help you?” Cute, is all Virgil can think when he enters the office. Pastel, is second. There’s a new receptionist at the desk, freckles and a mega-watt smile.

“Hi uh, I got a notification I have a package?” He stammers out. Oogie purrs at his shoulder, reminding him it’s okay.

“Sure! What apartment number?” Virgil rattles off his numbers as the receptionist looks in the package closet.

“For Virgil?” They ask. He nods and takes his box, keeping it away from Oogie as it’s a surprise for her birthday.

“Oh! I’m Emile by the way. I’m working in the office now so if you need anything just give us a call okay?” They’re so earnest. Virgil ends up just nodding his head, only speaking when Oogie bumps her head to his.

“Yeah, thanks,” He says and before he can make an exit Thomas appears from inside one of the offices.

“I thought I head you! Virgil, how are you?” He asks. Virgil gives him a soft smile.

“Good, and you?” It’s only polite. Thomas lets out a laugh.

“Good here too. Say, the staff is hosting a tenant party here, some games and some food, you should join us if you’re not busy.” Thomas hands Virgil a flyer with some gaudy colors. Virgil does a good job of not letting his dislike of the idea show.

“You should totally come!” Emile beams at him and it does something gay to Virgil’s heart. Virgil glances at the two of them smiling at him.

“I could stop by?” He offers not waiting to make them mad at him. They cheer and turn back to their jobs. Virgil walks back to his apartment, petting Oogie as he does.

“What did I just get myself into?” He asks her. She bumps her head to his hand in response.

--

It’s not a bad turnout for an apartment complex party. Virgil does show up, Oogie situated on his shoulders. Even though its closer to summer, He’s still wearing his hoodie if not just to give her a place to put her paws should she wish to.

There’s those plastic cheap tables lining around the pool area, boxes of pizza and some crinkly plastic containers of mini sub sandwiches sit on top. There’s a section for drinks and cups right next to. Virgil gets himself a cup of lemonade.

He glances about. Some people are playing some bean bag toss game, others are playing on the mini putt putt area Virgil didn’t even know they had. Lots of people are in the pool, messing around and splashing water at each other. He sticks to the sidelines.

“Virgil!” Or maybe not. He looks to who called his name and though he’s happy Logan called for him so he doesn’t have to be alone, he’s lamenting the fact that not only is it Logan, he’s also with Patton, Damien, and Remy. Fuck. Virgil goes bug eyed, giving himself a pep talk, helped along by Oogie making a ‘mrrp’ noise in his ear, and walks to his doom.

“Hey Logan,” Virgil says once he’s close. Patton waves as best he can with hands full of pizza.

“Sup babes?” Remy asks with damn smirk, sunglasses appropriate now. Virgil rolls his eyes.

“Damien, if you don’t remember,” Damien holds out his hand. Virgil of course remembers embarrassing himself in front of freaking sleek attractive Damien, but he isn't about to say that. Virgil takes his hand to shake and Damien flips it to bring a kiss to the back of Virgil’s hand. Virgil’s jaw drops as Patton giggles helplessly.

“Dee don’t do that!” He says but there’s not force behind it. Damien just smiles like the cat that got the cream.

“I didn’t know you two were familiar?” Damien turns the attention to Logan now. Logan just pushes up his glasses.

“I admit to helping Virgil carry in groceries more than once.” Logan says, giving Damien a look that Virgil doesn’t have the power to decipher. Patton whines.

“Kiddo you could have asked for more help,” He says. Virgil shrugs.

“Two trips are for the weak.” He and Remy tap their glasses together in a cheers.

“Yes and I’m sure dropping your groceries is also for the weak.” Logan chides and it does hit a little harder, but still Virgil taps his glass to Remy’s again in a cheers.

“Virgil!” Someone calls and Virgil is blinded by the force of Emile’s smile so suddenly in his face.

“You came!” He’s excited. Virgil nods and takes a step back. Oogie murmurs upset on his shoulder.

“Yep, I said I would and hey, free food.” He ignores the looks the others give each other and Emile just bounces.

“Well I’m glad you’re here. Me and Patton were gunna play corn-hole later, you should join us!” Patton gives an equally excited gasp as Emile gestures to the bean bag toss.

“Uh sure,” Virgil says. Emile bounces and waves, and is off to say hi to other residents as soon as he came. Virgil is reeling from the interaction and it only gets worse.

“Is that pretty boy??” Virgil hears the splash before he sees anyone but then Remus is there in his face, shirtless and in swim trunks and dear god, he has a tramp stamp.

“Hello again stranger~” He coos. Virgil musters up a hi when suddenly another shirtless person is standing next to Remus.

“It is pretty boy! How are you darling?” Roman says. Virgil has officially hit gay panic mode. If the earlier mix of suave and cute wasn’t enough to do him in, the pure amount of muscle now is going to do him in.

“Fine,” He chokes out. Remus and Roman both laugh at his answer. Great. If he hoped for any kind of saving from the others, it’s surely a dashed hope by the amused looks on their faces.

“Are you joining us in the pool?” Remus asks excited. Oogie hisses from his shoulders. Vigil raises a hand to calm her and she nuzzles his knuckles.

“Uh not today.” He says, which is the wrong thing to say.

“But another day?” Remus asks all wild excited. Roman shoves him.

“Like he wants to spend time with your gross ass!” Roman shouts playfully. Patton huffs and calls him for his language but he is ignored. Remus gasps offended with a wild smirk on his face.

“Sure he does, can’t keep his eyes off these guns,” And Remus flexes. Virgil smacks a hand to his face. Oogie dips to hide in his hood. Roman lets out a laugh and firmly shoves Remus back into the pool.

“The only gun he needs is a glock to the face.” Roman puts a fist in his hand, flexing as well. The pun does get Patton to giggle though and Damien rolls his eyes.

“Virgil I am going to get some food, would you like to accompany me?” Logan asks finally done with the nonsense.

“How do you know his name!?” Roman screeches.

“I asked.” Roman let's out an outright offended gasp for whatever reason. He doesn’t get to say another word as Remus from out of no where, runs and tackles Roman back into the pool with no such boundaries.

“Food sounds good,” Virgil says. Logan smiles softly at him.

“I think I shall join you,” Damien says looking into his cup which doesn’t look empty but who is Virgil to judge. 

“Come find me and Emile when you’re done okay?” Patton interjects before they can leave. Virgil offers him a two finger salute, and then leaves Patton and Remy to go find Emile, while he finds food.

“Idiots,” Logan mutters once they are away from the pool. Damien hums in thought.

“But not wrong,” He says.

“They aren’t right either.” Logan snaps back.

“Should I go?” Virgil asks as they are clearly not talking to him. Both Damien and Logan look at him scandalized.

“Certainly not!” Damien says and gives him a slick smile. Virgil swallows down his lemonade to keep his throat from clogging up. He spends some time talking to the two of them, making sarcastic comments and opening up. Oogie pops out to lick his hair at one point.

At that, Virgil finds Emile somewhere, letting them know he’ll be right back, wanting to drop Oogie off at home. He’s comfortable enough here to not need her reassurances, besides, she’s tired from napping and needs to go home to sleep. With some ‘hurry back’ wishes, he’s off back to his place.

He makes sure Oogie is comfy and goes to leave, finding Thomas waiting in one of the golf carts outside his door.

“Need a ride?” He offers. Virgil laughs and joins him in the small vehicle.

“Virgil if I may, I have a favor to ask of you?” Thomas says seriously. Virgil nods his head as his lungs refuse to let him breathe for fear of the favor.

“Please be kind to my grand kids yeah?” Thomas asks, an earnest look in his eyes. Virgil isn’t sure what he’s talking about, but then he looks up. All of the boys who have been coming in and out of his life to fix his home are there staring and waiting for him to get back with the same look in their eyes.

Oh. Virgil thinks.

Oh no.

--

AN: Lol that multiship life

Edit: now with a part 2

[phantomrose96]

New BNHA, new liveblog, 0 miles today because the gyms are all closed. this is weird for me.

REALLY loving each and every one of the hand-wavy reasons Horikoshi gives for “fuck it i just wanted Aizawa (or maybe Mirio?) to adopt a kid”

Aizawa: “Look, the hospital kicked her out, her parents are MIA, her grandpa’s in a coma, and it’s not like Mirio is doing anything right now.” Mirio: “Haha yeah :DD”

“We worked for like 15 episodes to steal her, you think we’d just, what, give her BACK? Finders fucking keepers, Midoriya.”

Sometimes a family is an out-of-commission 18 year old, a really tired teacher, a traumatized little girl, and the ugliest godDAMN sweater on the planet

Dats gay

I really like the Wild Wild Pussycats casual clothes???

Their whole aesthetic is Your Three Lesbian Aunts And One Gay Uncle Visiting For Thanksgiving

Kota has... Deku’s Shoes... thats real fucking cute

SPEAKING of cute: Ragdoll is an absolute gem and I wish there was more of her in the Training Camp arc she’s a real cutie

I’m glad we’re finally learning how rankings work, considering the very concept of the ranking system has been absolutely core to the series since Day 1. Like 90-something episodes in and Horikoshi is finally like “oh i should explain how that works”

I’m a big fan of how, whenever something Thematically Relevant to Todoroki is said, they just have to pan to his blank face, because it’s not like he’d ever. you know. participate in the conversation. not his style. we only get the Meaningful Panning Shot.

Is that

Is that a

Is that a washing machine?

Is the #8 hero a washing machine?

Never mind

Wait is THAT man just named Crust?? Poor bastard is the #6 hero and his hero name is crust.

Like I KNOW it’s a japanese show and they can’t know all the impli--but i mean, but i

“Most Underappreciated Part of a Pizza Hero: Crust”

oh HELL YEAH

OH HELL YEAH

also btw i really like Edgeshot’s voice. especially during the Kamino arc. it’s like, hypnotically chill

its him... finally... the bastard of lore.... i’ve heard whispers of this fucker

oh like he’s an ASSHOLE-ASSHOLE

“Who are you trying to make happy with that statement? Stain?” O H SO like he’s an A S S H O L E

Mirko: “You’re an asshole. ...I LIKE that” 

how quick i am to stan two separate characters within 30 seconds of meeting them

what arrogance. what audacity. what flippant fucking disregard. i’d like TWELVE of him please.

Hawks: -speaks- Me:

you know whats great? you know whats fantastic? his whole wing motif. because it doesn’t matter that Endeavor’s like 6′5″, Hawks can still float above him and condescend to him 

hes looking down his fucking nose at this man. ICONIC.

Hawks: “Just so everyone knows, I have a higher approval rating than Endeavor, and I have more fans, and my hair is way better than his. Anyway, you wanted to microphone, Bitch Boi?”

REALLY vibing with Hawks’ sarcasti-clapping of Endeavor’s speech to a completely silent audience

ASJSAHJAS, AN ICON. #1 HERO OF MY HEART, HAWKS

“Shame” as a quirk is a hilarious concept. And also how do you discover this? “Little Timmy’s fly was open at school and he promptly took out a wall”

and Hawks just fucking DECKS him from behind. LOVE the bait and switch of Shame-Man being important.

Endeavor: “Is he... is he dead?” Hawks: “Hot pot!! :DD”

The stupidest looking dog. i LOVE it

Just jumping in front of a truck for NO narrative reason other to have Hawks’ feathers save it

while hawks is STILL TALKING ABOUT FOOD

I MEAN BITCH SAME, BITCH RELATABLE, BUT LIKE

CHEEKY. love his stupid bits of English.

the autograph signing scene was basically just the Talent Show episode of Spongebob where Squidward and Spongebob do exactly the same thing, Spongebob being met with uproarious applause and Squidward being met with dead silence.

me buying shit in a craft store i cannot possibly need nor use, but it was shiny and only $5

Hawks calls Tokoyami “Tsukuyomi”?? am i missing something there or did he straight up get the name wrong?

Hawks: “I tried to scout your son but turns out he’s a failure. Runs in the family? :D”

85% of the reason I’m loving Hawks is because he’s JUST here to make Endeavor’s life harder, and that’s something I support every day of the week.

Hawks: “I just want to complain about how nothing happened today and then go to bed”

That one’s not a joke thats a direct fucking quote and WOW BITCH SAME

Endeavor: “how do you know about these Nomu rumors?” Hawks: “I’m a nosy bitch who loves gossip and can’t mind my own business? How would I not know about this???”

I understand this is a serious and dramatic screenshot, but also I’m too caught up in the notion that - when experiencing some strong emotion - Todo can’t help but just Light Himself A Little On Fire

Deku: “Good morning Todoroki! Are you ready for our English test today? :D” Shouto: -catches fire- Shouto: “...Our what”

Lunchrush: “Hey there, what can I get you?” Shouto: “The cold soba” Lunchrush: “All out of cold soba, sorry” Shouto: -catches fire- “That’s fine. Just the ramen then.”

Endeavor: “Hey.. son... Shouto... I’ve been thinking... With all the steps I’ve made to be a better hero, don’t you think maybe it’s time you forgive me?” Shouto: -actively on fire. 100% encased in flame- “Let me think about it.”

[gingersnapwolves]

The Untamed, a brief summary [Part 1/6]

Okay my friends, I have heard your calls. Here’s my play-by-play version of The Untamed.

Note the first: I’m dividing it up into sections because it is, after all, a 50 episode series and I doubt anyone will want to wade through it all in one go.

Note the second: I am going to try to be as unbiased as possible. There are different ways to interpret some of the characters’ actions, especially later in the show when things get morally complex. You can find oceans of meta on this stuff, so I will try not to pick a side when at all possible. 

Note the third: I’m going to keep the tone pretty light and humorous. This show gets *dark* in the middle but y’all are reading a summary and I don’t want it to get too dry or too depressing. Please pardon me if I am flippant from time to time.

Part One: Sword Wizard School

I thought about doing a character guide but decided it would be easier to introduce you to characters as we meet them, because there are a LOT of characters. However, I am going to give you a brief primer on the important families/places.

Actually, let me back up a little further. The Untamed is a xianxia drama, so it’s about people trying to become immortal celestial beings. They fight monsters and do a lot of magic, and they live in clans/sects. A clan is a family. A sect is a cultivation style/school. The terms are often used interchangeably (even I’m guilty) but they are not exactly the same. Members of a clan will belong to that sect, but the sect will also take in outsiders to train, who are sect members but not clan members.

There are five Great Sects:

Province: Yunmeng; sect: Jiang, home: Lotus Pier

Province: Gusu, sect: Lan, home: Cloud Recesses

Province: Lanling, sect: Jin, home: Koi/Carp Tower

Province: Qinghe, sect: Nie, home: The Unclean Realm (this is not to say it is dirty, it’s from Buddhism and might also translate to ‘The Worldly Realm’)

Province: Qishan, sect: Wen, home: Nightless City/Nevernight (depending on translation) 

Here’s a map I made for my fic reference which shows roughly where these provinces are in relation to each other. I may have pretended they were cities in America so I could calculate mileage. Yes I am the world’s biggest nerd, thanks.

H’okay! The show is not in chronological order but I am going in chronological order because the point is to make this simple for you. I’ll admit that I may not get everything 100% correct because it’s been a while since I watched parts of it but I’ll try.

Setting: Caiyi Town, [Gusu]

ENTER A GREMLIN.

Meet Wei Wuxian. He is a 16 year old chaos gremlin with ADHD. He does not look 16 but actors in American dramas pretending to be teenagers also do not look 16 so we’ll let that go. He is with his adopted brother (also 16ish, but younger than Wei Wuxian) Jiang Cheng, and his adopted older sister, Jiang Yanli (probably about 6 years older).

Oh, right. Names. Most characters have two names, a birth name and a ‘courtesy’ name which is a fancy name they get when they’re old enough to get their swords and stuff. They also have titles. For the sake of not driving y’all crazy, I will choose the most commonly used name for the character and stick with it, and then give you a chart at the end so you’ll understand fanfiction.

Wei Wuxian and his siblings are headed to Sword Wizard School in Gusu, hosted by the Lan sect. Wei Wuxian is clearly planning to Be Himself during these lectures, and Jiang Cheng does Not Approve. Jiang Cheng is obviously very serious and concerned with appearances, which makes sense because he is the sect heir. As an adopted son, Wei Wuxian can goof off; Jiang Cheng does not have that luxury. (Wei Wuxian is the son of two of Jiang Cheng’s father’s friends, who died when he was young. More on this later.) Jiang Cheng reminds Wei Wuxian and the other disciples that are with them that they are representing the Jiang sect and they should make a good impression.

They don’t think they can get to Cloud Recesses before dark so they get rooms at an inn.

ENTER A SNOB.

Jin Zixuan is the next fun character you’ll meet. He’s also 16 or thereabouts despite looking 24 at minimum. He is a sect heir to the Lanling Jin and he does not like being near or interacting with strangers. He pays the innkeeper to rent the whole inn and throw any other guests out. Is this a dick move? I’m trying to be unbiased here, so yes. Yes it is.

Wei Wuxian tries to flirt with a couple of Jin Zixuan’s retainers to get them to allow the Yunmeng siblings to stay, but Jin Zixuan decides to be a big jerk about it. Fun fact! Jin Zixuan is betrothed to Jiang Yanli! He is literally throwing his betrothed out of an inn so he doesn’t have to share a building with people. Wei Wuxian gets pissy and picks a fight with him but Jiang Yanli convinces him that he’s not worth it (although she is much nicer about it than any of us would be in her shoes), and they decide to head up to Cloud Recesses despite the time.

But alas! In their haste, they leave their invitation behind.

ENTER AN ICE PRINCE

As the Yunmeng trio try to talk their way past the gate, Lan Wangji arrives. Also 16, he is your classic stoic, repressed gay, and is the younger brother of the Lan Sect leader. With him are a bunch of Lan cultivators and a guy on a stretcher who is clearly in rough shape. The Lan cultivators carry him inside.

Wei Wuxian, pure of heart and dumb of ass, decides that this is a great time to try to talk his way through the gate, figuring that Lan Wangji, being an important person, can let them in. Lan Wangji reacts about how you would expect a stoic repressed gay would to a cute boy flirting with him for the first time: uses a silencing spell on him, tells him he’s absolutely not admitted without their invitation, and locks them out. 

Jiang Cheng, who has spent the last 3 minutes desperately trying to get his brother to shut up before he gets them all in trouble, sends him back to town to find the invitation.

Int. Cloud Recesses [Gusu]

ENTER A SOFT MAN AND HIS EXTREMELY STARCHED UNCLE

Lan Xichen, the head of the Lan sect and Lan Wangji’s older brother, is studying the guy they brought in, with his uncle. Lan Xichen is young for a sect leader (he’s only 19 in the book but probably 24-25ish in the show) and his uncle advises him a lot of the time. The guy they brought is kind of dead but also kind of not. They say a bunch of stuff you won’t understand if you have not seen xianxia dramas before. It’s not really important.

Ext. Cloud Recesses [Gusu]

RE-ENTER THE GREMLIN

Wei Wuxian has come back with the invitation to find the rest of his sect no longer waiting outside and all of Cloud Recesses sealed by wards. “Wards are made to be broken,” he says, demonstrating a clear lack of understanding of their purpose. It’s a good thing he’s here for school.

He breaks in, carrying a couple jars of liquor, only to find Lan Wangji standing guard. Lan Wangji reprimands him for breaking important Lan sect rules like a) not breaking and entering, b) not coming in after dark, and c) bringing alcohol, which is forbidden. Wei Wuxian offers him one of the jars because he is 16 and stupid and for some reason thought a bribe was what this situation needed. Lan Wangji pulls a sword on him, which is definitely a reasonable response and not because he has his first boner and he’s angry about it.

They have a sword fight, basically to a draw. Lan Wangji drags him in to see Lan Xichen, who clearly thinks this is hilarious. Wei Wuxian blames everything on Jin Zixuan and Lan Wangji. He also says intelligent things about the not-a-corpse they’re examining, because the writers wanted us to know that he’s not a whole dumbass. Lan Xichen basically slaps him on the wrist, tells him to behave himself and sends him off to the guest house his siblings were given, and then teases Lan Wangji about Baby’s First Crush.

Ext, Nightless City [Qishan]

ENTER AN OVER THE TOP VILLAIN AND HIS HENCHMEN

Nightless City isn’t actually nightless. It’s just never dark there because it’s on top of a volcano, because that’s where all the cool villains live.

This is the home of the Qishan Wen, who are Obviously Evil from the Black Outfits, Volcano Lair, and Shuffling Zombies. Their leader is Wen Ruohan. His personality is that he is evil. He’s saying a bunch of stuff you won’t understand yet and then sends his Obnoxious Son Wen Chao off to look for something. He also sends Wen Qing, who is related to him somehow, presumably. She asks if she can bring her brother, Wen Ning, and Wen Ruohan says sure because all he cares about is Being Evil in his Zombie Volcano Lair.

Int, Cloud Recesses [Gusu]

ENTER A SLACKER and his friend, EVERY RETAIL EMPLOYEE DEALING WITH A KAREN YOU’VE EVER MET. 

They’re all at the first lecture, and there’s a ceremony where each visiting sect presents a gift to Lan Qiren (the uncle/teacher). I think we might see what the Jin give him but I don’t care. Right now we’re talking about Nie Huaisang, the younger brother of the sect leader of the Nie sect. He is baby. He has brought a bird to class for no reason other than that he caught it and thinks it’s cool. Presenting to the dour and stern Lan Qiren makes him nervous.

With him is Meng Yao. Unlike everyone else you’ve met so far, Meng Yao is not a member of the gentry. He is the son of the Jin sect leader and a prostitute. (Yes, this makes him Jin ‘I can’t breathe the same air as commoners’ Zixuan’s younger brother.) When he was old enough to do Sword Magic he went to the Jin sect and asked for admittance, and his father had him thrown down a set of 200 steps because his father is an Enormous Douche. (That’s not biased. Hating this dude is one of the few things everyone agrees on.) Then he went to the Nie sect, and they said, “Sure, you can come in, but you’re not really a disciple, mmkay?” and he said sure. But he has worked his way up to being the assistant to the sect leader which is a pretty important position for someone with his background. 

Naturally, because Meng Yao is Not Like the Others, a few people take this opportunity to gossip and talk smack about him. Meng Yao is upset but tries not to look it. Lan Xichen takes a moment to reassure him, saying that the Nie sect leader had written to him about what a helpful and awesome assistant he had now, and that Meng Yao obviously lived up to it. Meng Yao immediately develops the world’s Most Obvious Crush Don’t @ Me You Would Too.

ENTER MR. OBNOXIOUS, AN IRON MAIDEN, and A PUPPY. Fortunately these are the last characters you’ll meet for a while.

The Wen sect shows up at the gates of Cloud Recesses like ‘what up, I got a big attitude and fuck you’. The gate dude tells them they can’t come in without an invitation, and Wen Chao attacks him because he was raised in a volcano and they go in anyway. With Wen Chao are Wen Qing and her brother, Wen Ning. They are actually pretty awesome, you just don’t know it yet.

Wen Chao busts in on the Saluting Ceremony just as Jiang Cheng is trying to present their gift, and immediately begins insulting everyone there. You should count yourself fortunate that you’re only reading this because Wen Chao is literally the most obnoxious character in this show. Anyway, Wei Wuxian decides to pick a fight with him even though this is *obviously* a stupid thing to do. (I love Wei Wuxian with my whole heart but he is so stupid at 16 lmao.) He calls Wen Chao out on interrupting Jiang Cheng. Wen Chao reacts completely rationally and calmly BAHAHA who am I kidding, he pulls his sword out. Everyone else pulls their swords out. Wen Qing looks like she has the world’s worst migraine.

Lan Xichen takes out his flute and plays eight seconds of music that makes everyone’s swords go flying into the ceiling. Had I mentioned how awesome Lan Xichen is? Because he is Awesome.

Wen Chao gets even more pissy but Wen Qing shuts him down, saying she and her brother are there for Sword Wizard School and she’s sorry her cousin is such an asshole. Lan Xichen tells them to ‘try to come on time’ tomorrow. Had I mentioned how awesome Lan Xichen is? It bears repeating.

Ext, Cloud Recesses [Gusu]

Wei Wuxian is making fast friends with Nie Huaisang. They decide to go fishing in one of the streams. He sees Wen Qing sneaking around and asks what she’s doing there. She blows him off.

Meng Yao stops Lan Xichen and says goodbye to him. Lan Xichen asks why he’s leaving so soon, and Meng Yao says that he can’t actually stay for the lectures, since he’s only an assistant to the Nie sect, not a disciple. Lan Xichen tells him that Nie Mingjue (the head of the Nie sect) is just and honorable and will surely reward him for working so hard. They make heart eyes at each other for like a solid thirty seconds before Meng Yao manages to leave.  I’m sorry, I’m trying to be unbiased. They gaze at each other longingly – no, shit, that’s still biased. They, uh, regard each other with mutual respect for thirty solid seconds and then Meng Yao leaves.

Meanwhile Jiang Cheng is Fretting about the fact that Wei Wuxian is Making a Bad Impression. He ain’t seen nothing yet. Jiang Yanli calms him down.

Wen Qing talks to her brother Wen Ning and is sad because he’s sick. She promises him that someday they’ll be able to leave Nightless City.

Int, Cloud Recesses [Gusu]

Lan Qiren is lecturing. Wei Wuxian proposes some casual heresy. Lan Qiren gets mad and tells him to copy the Chapter of Conduct a thousand times, and throws him out of class. Jiang Cheng tries to crawl under his desk.

Instead of going to copy lines, Wei Wuxian wanders off and meets A PUPPY, ie Wen Ning. He is practicing his archery. Wei Wuxian proceeds to help him with his stance and Wen Ning looks like he just discovered his bisexuality. Wen Qing sees them together and is clearly not thrilled. Wei Wuxian asks her why she’s always wandering around the back hills of Cloud Recesses and asks if she’s looking for something. She tells him not to be stupid and leaves with her brother.

Lan Wangji drags Wei Wuxian back to the library for his punishment. Wei Wuxian proceeds to spend the next few hours doing Everything That Is Not That, which culminates in him exchanging Lan Wangji’s book for some porn when he’s not looking. Lan Wangji tears the porn up and tells him to piss off.

~romance~

Jiang Cheng: I hope you’re proud of yourself.

Wei Wuxian: I absolutely am.

They go back to their guest house. Wen Qing is there. She’s a doctor! Told you she was awesome. Jiang Yanli wasn’t feeling well and Wen Qing gave her some medicine. They talk about the fact that there aren’t lectures for a few days because Lan Qiren is off doing Official Stuff.

But there’s still fun to be had! There’s a water demon attacking people in the nearby town. Lan Xichen is worried that it’s serious and he’s going to go himself. Lan Wangji goes with him. Wei Wuxian asks if he and Jiang Cheng can go ‘get some practice’ as they fight lots of water demons in Yunmeng. Lan Xichen, remembering his brother’s obvious crush, says sure. Wen Ning wants to go too. So does Wen Qing. Lan Xichen suddenly feels like a chaperone on a field trip but says fine because he’s the cool older brother.

Wei Wuxian takes the opportunity to ask questions about the not-a-corpse from earlier. Lan Xichen politely tells him that’s it handled and not to worry about it. Wei Wuxian thinks there’s something he’s not telling him, and he mentions that to Lan Wangji, who agrees but won’t say so. Wei Wuxian can tell anyway because he’s learning to read Lan Wangji’s microexpressions.

They fight a water demon. Jiang Cheng gets injured and Wen Qing patches him up. He looks at her with puppy eyes. Some dumbass loses his sword in the water. Wen Ning tries to help him despite being uniquely unqualified to do so, and passes out. Wei Wuxian tries to rescue both of them, and Lan Wangji ends up rescuing all three of them despite clearly wanting to let the water demon eat them. Jiang Cheng buys a comb to give to Wen Qing but chickens out and doesn’t give it to her. Wei Wuxian deduces that Wen Ning’s illness is because of a previous bad experience with ghostly spirits or something, and gives Wen Qing a talisman to give to her brother that will help protect him from monsters. He says that no matter what she’s looking for at Cloud Recesses, he hopes the talisman will help Wen Ning.

Then he tries to buy Lan Wangji some fruit as a gift. Lan Wangji refuses to look at him. Lan Xichen starts mentally writing wedding invitations.

Ext. Nightless City [Qishan]

ENTER AN EDGELORD (sorry I forgot about him, in fact I think this happened earlier but the timing isn’t really important)

Meet Xue Yang. You have no idea who he is. Wen Ruohan is demanding he hand over something called yin iron. Xue Yang’s response to this is basically ‘choke me harder, Daddy’ and you’re left feeling vaguely disturbed.

Int. Cloud Recesses [Gusu]

It’s party time! Wei Wuxian smuggled some liquor back with him. He, Jiang Cheng, and Nie Huaisang get drunk. They give Jiang Cheng a hard time about his high standards for women.

Lan Wangji comes in like the hall monitor you hated in high school to break it up. Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang run away. Wei Wuxian uses a talisman on Lan Wangji to keep him from reporting them and make him take a drink of the alcohol. We all remind ourselves very firmly that he is only 16 and will do stupid shit, despite wanting to slap him. Lan Wangji has never had alcohol before and one drink makes him blackout drunk. Wei Wuxian has to babysit him for the rest of the night. Serves him right.

The next day, they’re all in trouble, even Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian tries to tell Lan Qiren that it’s not Lan Wangji’s fault, but Lan Wangji accepts his punishment anyway. They get hit with a stick a bunch of times.

Lan Wangji goes to recuperate in the cold springs. Lan Xichen, the world’s biggest troll, sends Wei Wuxian to do the same. Lan Wangji nearly has an aneurysm when Wei Wuxian tries to start taking his clothes off.

ENTER THE PLOT

They get pulled underwater and end up in a cave. It’s a magic cave where only members of the Lan clan are allowed to be. To keep the cave from killing him, Lan Wangji wraps his Magic Forehead Ribbon around Wei Wuxian’s wrist. This is the same magic forehead ribbon he told Wei Wuxian ten episode minutes ago that only parents, spouses, and children are allowed to touch. Draw what conclusions you will.

There’s a ghostly lady in the cave who is Lan Wangji’s ancestor. She tells them Evil Is Abroad. A long time ago a dude named Xue Chonghai took a bunch of pieces of metal and filled them full of evil energy. Everyone banded together and killed him, but the metal couldn’t be completely destroyed, so it was split into ‘the cardinal directions’ and then sealed and hidden. Ah ha! This is what Wen Ruohan is looking for! It’s called Evil MacGuffin yin iron.

Wei Wuxian says if it’s so powerful, why don’t they use it to fight back? Ghost lady says she tried that but it’s too evil and it doesn’t work. She gives them the piece that was sealed in the cave and tells them to go fight evil together. Lan Wangji is glad it’s too cold to have a boner.

Except then she throws them out of the cave and onto dry land and Wei Wuxian lands on top of him and he definitely gets one from that. Sorry, Lan Wangji, I don’t make the rules.

They’ve been missing for two days and everyone is really upset, especially Jiang Cheng, who thinks Wei Wuxian was just goofing off.

Lan Xichen takes the piece of yin iron they got in the cave and seals it in a pouch. They discuss the fact that Wen Ruohan is clearly collecting the pieces of yin iron and this is Bad News Bears. The yin iron will respond to other pieces of yin iron so they decide they should use the piece they have to locate the other pieces.

But first, classes are over! Despite the fact that each of these events has led seamlessly into the next and it seems like they’ve been there a week, they’ve actually been there six months. If you dealt with the Teen Wolf ‘timeline’ I assume you can deal with that lmao.

There’s a lantern-lighting ceremony to celebrate. Wei Wuxian paints a rabbit on his lantern because there were a bunch of rabbits in the cave and Lan Wangji clearly likes rabbits. This makes Lan Wangji smile for the first time. They all light their lanterns and make a wish.

Wei Wuxian wishes he can stand with justice and live without regrets. Lan Wangji looks at him like he’s about to propose. Wen Qing wishes she could protect her little brother and that he’ll always be safe. Jiang Cheng looks at her like he’s about to propose. Nie Huaisang wishes he can pass his classes and get the hell out of high school. Truly, the most relatable.

But the moment is ruined because people start teasing Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli, asking why they didn’t light a lantern together and wish for a happy marriage. Jin Zixuan, the paragon of reacting reasonably to things, storms off. He tells his sect members he doesn’t want to hear about the marriage and they should stop bringing it up. Wei Wuxian overhears and they get into a fight. Jiang Yanli manages to get Wei Wuxian to back off.

The next day, Wei Wuxian is being punished for punching a jerk in the face. He is kneeling on the rocks of the courtyard. But he’s already gotten distracted because there’s an anthill and he has ADHD. Lan Wangji calls him ‘unteachable’ and stomps off, clearly mad at his boner like usual.

Because this is kind of important, the two sect leaders have showed up to hash it out. Jiang Yanli’s dad says ‘listen, if your son doesn’t want to marry my daughter, we shouldn’t force him’. Jin Zixuan’s dad says, ‘kids are stupid and they don’t know what they want’. Jiang Yanli’s dad says, ‘well I absolutely agree your son is stupid but he’s being a jerk to my daughter so why don’t we politely call this off before something happens that makes one of us impolitely call it off’, and Jin Zixuan’s dad agrees. Jiang Yanli is upset, although why she actually wanted to marry Jin Zixuan is beyond everyone involved, including the audience. Then again it can’t be easy to hear that some dude who has barely even met you has decided you’re not good enough for him.

Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian sees Lan Xichen telling Lan Wangji ‘be careful’ and correctly deduces that Lan Wangji is leaving with the yin iron to try to find the other pieces, while Lan Xichen stays behind to protect Cloud Recesses since the Wen sect thinks it’s still there. He leaves a note that says ‘gone monster hunting, meet you back at home!’ Jiang Cheng nearly has an aneurysm, especially when his dad is like ‘lmao that kid is such a dumbass’.

~end Sword Wizard School~

okay, guys, what did you think? was this helpful? could you follow it? was it at least vaguely entertaining? should I keep going?

[knit-wear-it]

Bloom

A/N: Happy Pride! Here’s some Crossbow Canary to celebrate 🏳️‍🌈❤️🏳️‍🌈❤️

They met at a Halloween party. Helena was half-listening to a group of fellow freshmen discussing the politics of TokTok when she noticed her— a petite, athletically-built blonde wearing a yellow hard hat and a slick of red lipstick. It was a shade too dark for her, standing out stark against her pale skin; the mark of a makeup novice. She was laughing with a small group of friends, her smile radiant. She was radiant.

Then, as if she could feel Helena staring, the blonde looked straight at her.

There was a faint flush in the apples of her cheeks as she offered a tremulous but encouraging smile, and Helena practically bolted across the room toward her.

***

Her name was Dinah.

They met again a week later, by accident, at a small martial arts studio off campus. Helena arrived just as Dinah was leaving, her face shiny and blotchy with exertion, her ashy blonde hair plaited back in a sweaty French braid. She wore black Lycra gym-gear beneath her pea coat to stave off the approaching New Jersey winter. Her coat was a vibrant cornflower blue, reminding Helena of the rich pigments Italian Renaissance painters used for Mary Magdalen's robes. Without the dark smear of lipstick, she could see the graceful curve of her prominent Cupid’s bow, giving her face a sweetness that belied the clear-eyed maturity few their age possessed.

“Oh,” Dinah stopped short on the sidewalk, her face lighting up. “Hello,” she grinned.

“Hi,” Helena grinned back at her, suddenly giddy as if she’d eaten a gallon of corn syrup. She could feel excitement fizzing in her veins, propelling her closer like a moth to the flame.

“Do you train here?” Dinah asked, re-shouldering her gym bag.

“They have a Krav Maga class I like,” Helena explained. “You?”

“Jiu Jitsu,” Dinah shrugged, smiling. “My old trainer swore by Krav Maga, but it doesn’t have the same…” she pursed her lips as she took her time to search for the word. “Grace,” she settled on.

“Grace?” Helena smirked. “Are we talking about ballet or fighting?”

Dinah laughed easily. “My first sensei would say they were the same thing.”

“Wow, how many senseis and trainers have you had?” Helena teased. She immediately regretted it when Dinah visibly tensed, her expression abruptly becoming guarded.

“I was fostered at a dojo for a little while when I was a kid,” she explained haltingly, her brown eyes darting off to the side. “And uh, then I was in a group home until I was eighteen and they… let me keep taking karate to give me some, uh, stability I guess.”

Helena’s eyes widened at this revelation, delivered so candidly in passing on the sidewalk—that she’d grown up in foster care; that she was an orphan. She could feel Dinah’s uneasiness, and it inspired a desperate need to comfort or reassure her, a wholly unfamiliar impulse.

“My dad sent me to a Swiss boarding school when I was twelve,” Helena blurted out. “After my mom died. It was kind of like a group home just with, you know, rich kids and archery. And a castle.”

As the words came tumbling out of her mouth, she knew she was being horribly rude by being so flippant about her privilege, but it seemed to lighten Dinah’s mood, her kind smile blooming again.

“Well, just because there was archery doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard to be away from everything you knew,” she said, meeting Helena’s eye meaningfully.

She understood loneliness, Helena realized. She understood the pain and anger of abandonment. Yet she didn’t carry bitterness around in the same way Helena did; bitterness that didn’t taste as bad when Dinah was standing here proving there was a way beyond it. It gave Helena hope—something she wasn’t well acquainted with after repeated tragedies.

A squat city bus puttered past behind them, catching Dinah’s eye. She glanced at Helena apologetically, a sliver of vulnerability slipping into her otherwise confident counternence.

“Maybe I’ll try Krav Maga sometime,” she offered, almost shyly.

“Maybe we could get coffee afterward,” Helena suggested, beaming.

They exchanged numbers before Dinah ran to catch the bus.

***

A week later, they kicked the shit out of each other at the studio and went for coffee. Helena had expected Dinah to pick up the Krav Maga moves quickly since she was well-versed in Karate and Jiu Jitsu. She even indulged in a stupid fantasy about helping her find the right techniques and positions, a blatant ploy to be physically closer to her.

But when they began sparing, Helena quickly realized she was wildly outmatched. Dinah did not need her help—she already knew Krav Maga even if she hadn’t quite mastered it. Then the minute Helena got the upper hand, Dinah gave up on the prescribed moves the instructor gave them, and took Helena down with a few quick karate strikes she couldn’t counter effectively.

Helena’s back hit the mat hard, knocking the wind out of her. Her eyes widening as Dinah pinned her down with a steady hand flat over her heart, the heel of her small hand grazing the top of Helena’s breast through her sports bra.

Dinah released her and sat back, looking smug.

“You cheated!” Helena laughed, accepting a hand to pull herself up to sitting.

“What’s the point of fighting if you aren’t going to win?” Dinah shot her a knowing smirk.

“What happened to grace?” Helena demanded, her eyebrows raising when Dinah faltered but quickly recovered.

“You’re right,” she agreed, her face softening like she’d come to some internal revelation. “It’s not about winning. It’s about the practice, and finding balance.”

“Alright, sensei,” Helena rolled her eyes but she couldn’t stop smiling—another unfamiliar impulse. “You can buy me a coffee to make up for cheating.”

“It’s called mixed martial arts for a reason,” Dinah insisted as they headed for the changing rooms. “I was just mixing in more martial arts”

“Yeah, yeah.”

***

For the rest of the semester they trained and went for coffee at least once a week. They would tell each other which parties they were going to, what events their friends were discussing attending. It went unsaid that they were leaving breadcrumbs for each other, a trail that would lead them back together.

Their social lives began to blend. Helena became friendly with Dinah’s carefully cultivated group of scholastic overachievers and misfits. Meanwhile, the gang of loud, kittenish gay men Helena surrounded herself with fawned over Dinah. They showed her how to do her make-up properly and cheered when she paraded around the dorm in high heels for them like a clumsy newborn colt.

“She is gorgeous,” one of Helena’s friends hissed to her.

But it never went any further than a lingering touch or look as Helena restrained herself from making the first move, but not because she feared rejection. She’d taken a gap year after boarding school, a boozy thirteen months during which she’d travelled across Southeast Asia—Vietnam, Cambodia,Thailand, Bali, Singapore—and then on to Australia. The youthful hedonism that characterized backpacking made it easy not to be shy or ashamed of her attraction to both boys and girls. But she resisted making the first move with Dinah— she wanted Dinah to come to her.

***

Helena stayed at Princeton over the holidays, just like she’d done throughout boarding school. The only place she could feasibly go was Gotham to be with her younger brother, Pino. He was seventeen, and Helena had just enough contact to suspect he was already involved in the ‘family business,’ which she tried not to think about. They mostly kept in touch via Snapchat and Instagram, a selfie and meme-based relationship that removed the painful edges of reality.

Dinah returned to Gotham for Christmas to visit another member of the orphanage she’d grown up in. She wanted to see how they were getting on without her, she said, though she wasn’t looking forward to being back in the city.

But something obviously went wrong while she was away, because once they were back at school she began determinedly avoiding Helena. She made excuses about being busy with classes and other friends needing her attention. Weeks went by and Helena started to feel crazy, like she was missing something obvious, which meant she was either blind or too stupid to be able to see what was happening.

Then out of the blue Dinah showed up at Helena’s dorm, her hair freshly cut in a cute, girlish bob that brushed the collar of her cornflower blue coat, her tawny eyes glowing determinedly.

“Helena,” she breathed, searching Helena’s face. “Will you go out with me?”

***

They went out for dinner, something Helena had never done with a girl before. She’d slept with women, but she struggled with the idea of going on a date with a woman. She was disappointed in herself, that she hadn't evolved beyond worrying about the perception of others when she knew what she wanted.

But those worries were relegated to background noise when Dinah showed up on her doorstep, wearing a candy-apple-red shade of lipstick that suited her perfectly.

“Hey,” she greeted Helena, her smile radiant. Excited.

***

After dinner, Helena walked Dinah back to her dorm. When the moment she’d been waiting months for finally arrived, Dinah tucked a loose piece of Helena’s hair behind her ear, then tentatively laid her palm across the curve of her jaw. Her eyes fell shut as she drew Helena's mouth down to hers.

Her lips were eager and curious, but clumsy. Helena paused to draw back, the thick fringe of her eyelashes brushing Dinah’s nose as she opened her eyes. Dinah’s hand was still resting on her cheek, while Helena’s hands had found Dinah’s waist. Her eyes were heavy and her lips parted, the red lipstick faded.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Helena said slowly. “But... have you ever kissed someone before?”

Dinah’s face split into a rueful grin, without a trace of shame. “I have now,” she pointed out playfully.

Helena mirrored her grin and gave Dinah’s waist a gentle tug, pulling her closer as their lips met again.

***

They went on more dates, and eventually they found their way into each other’s beds. They got to know each other’s bodies, bringing them closer in a way Helena hadn’t realized was possible. She’d only experienced sex as a blurry, rushed encounter, but with Dinah she was overwhelmed, drunk on how badly she wanted her.

Their friend groups continued to cross pollinate with the queer communities on campus, and they slowly began to build a chosen family together since neither of them had one of their own. Helena was thrilled to see Dinah slowly shed the armour she’d built to protect herself, becoming more open and accepting of her own feelings and desires. But Helena found it harder, in part because she was lying to Dinah by not telling her the full truth of her past.

Her family and their ‘business’ was a dark, shameful secret she had never told another person, and she couldn’t decide how Dinah, with her strong moral compass, would react. It was like an invisible blockade between them, one Helena knew could destroy the delicate fabric of their blossoming relationship if she didn’t resolve it.

About four months after their first official date, it became impossible to keep it inside any longer, especially because the words “I love you” were constantly threatening to spill past her lips. It was only when she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer that she found the courage.

“You can tell me anything, Helena,” Dinah insisted, holding Helena’s hands between hers. They were sitting on a blanket on the quad, the sun shining bright overhead as the first vestiges of spring bloomed around them.

Helena felt physically sick. She’d imagined every way this conversation could go, and she usually settled on Dinah being horrified once she learned the terrible, violent truth.

“It’s about…” she swallowed thickly. “My family. I haven’t been… completely honest with you. My dad. He wasn’t really a businessman. Not in the traditional sense.”

Dinah’s eyebrows raised, but she gave Helena’s hands a reassuring squeeze.

After a few false starts, Helena explained that her family wasn’t like other families. That her father and his brothers and generations of Bertinelli men before them hadn’t had… normal jobs. They were criminals. Successful, powerful criminals whose influence manipulated the very fabric of Gotham society.

Dinah listened, her expression becoming more and more guarded as Helena ploughed ahead. She could see what she was thinking. That Helena’s family was partially responsible for the corruption and crime that plagued Gotham. That the city was a shithole because of men like her father. It was all true, or at least it used to be, before the masked freaks took over and made everything worse.

She explained that a man named Mandragora tried to usurp her father when she was twelve, killing her mother, aunts and uncles, cousins and family friends in a blood feud. She was shipped off to Europe for safe keeping while her brother Pino, just 9 years old at the time, was sent to live with extended family in Central City. Ultimately her father’s associates and friends ran Mandragora out of town, but not before the damage was done. Helena remained in Switzerland, and Pino returned to Gotham, where he was raised by what extended members of the Bertinelli clan.

There was one more piece of information Helena couldn’t bring herself to share, because just thinking about what happened to her father made her blood boil—anger frequently outstripped grief when she thought about what Harley Quinn did to her Papa.

She hunted him. Tortured him. Murdered him.

But she couldn’t say the words. Mobsters were bad enough. Harley Quinn was an entirely different kind of villain, one Helena didn’t want her family — who she loved deeply despite their flaws —associated with if she could help it.

By the time she’d finished, Dinah had taken to playing with an errant daisy springing up from the grass, her attention wholly focused on the little white flower as she worked through her thoughts. When she finally looked up at Helena, she was cautious, still uncertain, but eventually her lips curved into a smile—kind, open, generous, and reassuring.

“I have to tell you something too,” she shrugged helplessly. “I love you, Helena... and you aren’t responsible for the choices your family made. You still loved them and lost them and I know how much that hurt you.”

Helena’s eyes widened, shocked that Dinah was speaking these words to Helena. For Helena.

“I—“ she faltered, searching Dinah’s face. “I love you too.” She sprung up to her knees and pitched forward, grabbing Dinah’s face with both hands and making her shriek with laughter as they fell back on the grass together. “God, I really really love you, Di.”

Dinah laughed again, her eyes closing as Helena urgently kissed her. She felt as if she’d never be able to properly express how much she felt. This was the polar opposite of the grief and anger that plagued her. This was the beginning of something beautiful and powerful and safe.

Dinah would save her from the darkness, she decided.

She was the only one who could.

***

A/N: I know you’re all here for Jarley, but in the same way I wanted you to love Ed, I’m hoping you’ll simp for this ship. I loved writing Dinah through the eyes of someone who sees the best in her since she’s been pretty limited to her own self-punishing point of view and Harley’s warped vision of the world. And it’s a relief to see Dinah begin to grow up now that she’s around people her own age she relates to… Even wearing lipstick is like an indulgent act for her that she’s finally allowing herself to take part in. Yes, Dinah! You deserve love and lipstick and self care! ❤️🎉

[fox-steward]

hi. i hope you don't mind me asking this but i need some advice.

i was born female, and ive always been a tomboy, sometimes in the most stereotypical way. i was also a little lesbian who didn't know it yet. but after my younger sibling came out to me as trans, i started second guessing everything about myself.

for the sake of my sibling, who im closer to than anyone in my life, i learned about what theyre going through to support them and ended up getting taken in myself. i consumed all the yaoi and gay fanfiction they did, i read up on all the identities that were within the trans umbrella and eventually i started to think i wasnt a girl at all, but my infact a feminine transboy.

i never was able to transition on account of my family but the growing inner hate i felt for myself made me want to because deep down I knew that no matterr what i said or believed, id never be the cis gay boys i, essentially, fetishised and craved to be. it made me miserable, but i wanted to be accepted so badly that i stuck with it. but then i fou d your blog and others like it, and reading through it, whole reevaluating myself made me realise how misguided my mindset was.

despite realising that me being a tomboy is perfectly fine, i cant help but cling to that idea of being a boy, even though i have no idea what it means to "be a boy" or "feel like a boy". all i know is what the media portrays boys, feminine boys and gay boys to be like, and i clung to that idea for so long that i believed it to be my identity.

i just wanted to ask, if i can, how can i get over this mindset? i feel terrible because my younger sibling still identifies as trans without a shadow of a doubt, and my questioning of myself makes me feel awful, but i also feel bad because... i dont know who i am really now. how can i just be me again?

sorry this is long. any advice would be very very much appreciated.

it sounds like you’ve been through it, anon. whew! i just wanna acknowledge what a mindfuck you’ve been through, and it’s normal to feel no so great.

i actually think you’re grieving, strange as that sounds, but hear me out. being female is not easy, being a masculine woman comes with its own set of challenges, and imagining yourself as a “gay transboy” was an escape from all that. you could imagine a future for yourself where you grew up to be a gay man, not a gay woman. it’s worth noting relationships between men are the only sexual/romantic pairing that isn’t party to misogyny within the relationship itself.

it’s intoxicating to imagine we could have that ourselves, huh? it happened to me too, and i’m not even actually attracted to males at all, i was really just seduced by the idea of a relationship of equals.

but this. is. a. fantasy. one we as female people can never achieve.

so you’re grieving the vision you had for your future. your grief doesn’t care that the thing you promised yourself is impossible.

you’re undergoing another shift in the way you see yourself, the way you imagine yourself moving through the world. that’s hard, anon. being a tomboy, while absolutely lovely and perfectly fine, can be really difficult in our misogynistic society. it’s like that dworkin quote i’m about to butcher—something something absolutely excruciating to be fully aware of the misogyny all around us. you get the gist. and she’s right, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.

so idk, i don’t have any specific advice, but i do know a lot about grief. with grief, you gotta accept you’re gonna feel shitty for a while and absolve yourself of the responsibility of ~fEeLiNg HaPpY~ for now. i’m being flippant because happiness is a mirage anyway. we get pricks of joy, moments of brightness or laughter, flow and contentment, enjoyment, pleasure, and these fill in between other moments of discomfort or monotony or tedium or malaise or or or. and if we’re lucky we are aware when the good stuff is happening, so that we can pause and say, gee this is nice. and if you get enough of then and you’re aware enough as they’re happening, perhaps you can tie it up in a bow of hindsight and call it contentment.

tangent, sorry. practically, keep yourself busy and tire yourself the fuck out, tbh. when my wife left, i started just going and doing things, anything i didn’t actively NOT want to do. dancing, concerts, art class, bike ride, walk a friends dog, cooking class, sit in a field and listen to music.

just do anything. i know it’s hard during covid, but it isn’t so much WHAT you do but THAT you do. take the field example—you have to travel there (that kills time!) and maybe you walk or bike (that is physical activity) then you do the thing you planned to do (takes more time) and you have to travel home (more time and activity) then you have completed something you set out to do (an achievement/free endorphins).

i also took up running when she left (tire myself the fuck out) and that changed so much for me. with grief, rumination and sleeplessness plagued me; running took both those out of the equation. so my sleep improved, i got stronger and my cardiovascular fitness improved, i ate better, i got to see myself improve and achieve goals, got to build an identity separate from who i was in my marriage. so i cannot recommend running enough.

and as for identity, finding out “who you are”—identity is a trap. don’t cement yourself to any one thing because everything changes. don’t define yourself by externalities, just be open and curious about your inner life, your qualities (which are also able to change btw) and start to strengthen the ones you like, like training a muscle. i practice (literally practice) kindness and discipline, which are important qualities for how i see myself. i also practice at compassion and i like how these things make me feel and how i show up in the world when i’m practicing at them. what qualities will you train in yourself?

you’re not defined in relation to your sibling, btw, and they aren’t defined in relation to you. you can question transness while still loving them.

you’re gonna be just fine, anon. you have plenty of time. grieve the future you can’t have, even though it’s truly for the best, and cultivate a person in yourself you’re excited to be. good luck.

[isitgintimeyet]

Just A Friend

Hope you are all having a good weekend. I’m the only one awake, the sun is shining and I’m enjoying my coffee in peace and quiet. Bliss!

Thank you for the continuing support for this story. it’s lovely reading (and re-reading) all the comments.

Hope you enjoy this next chapter.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta.

AO3

Previous Chapter

Chapter 3: From Relationship To Release

You know, I’m a great believer in relationships. Relationships come in all shapes and sizes — take my relationship with Geillis, for example.

I met Geillis on my first day of postgraduate training at Glasgow Royal Infirmary. I was spending three months in orthopaedic surgery and she was just finishing her training as a theatre nurse. We somehow kept bumping into each other at social gatherings and found we had many things in common — a childish sense of humour, an intolerance of pomposity and snobbishness, and a love of cheesy rom-com movies.

From there, our friendship snowballed, and for many years now, I’ve called her my best friend. Even the arrival of a fiancé and her forthcoming nuptials haven’t lessened our relationship in any way. Our careers have developed in parallel too. So when a vacancy came up for a senior theatre sister at the Children’s hospital, I didn’t hesitate to recommend her for the post. We work well together. For all her joking around and flippant comments she is damn good at her job. And I love her.

I don’t think I love many people. I’m very fond of a lot of people, mainly my friends. But love? No. And certainly not the romantic, live-our-life-together type of love.

I see how it can work. I look at Robbie’s parents, for example. The way they are there for each other, supporting through all the worries with their son, their comforting touches and reassuring glances.They are a solid unit and I admire that.

I also see the way that Geillis’ face lights up when she talks about her fiancé, Dougal, and the way he watches her when we are all together in the pub. And I think it’s great, I really do.

But it’s not something that I’m seeking out for myself. I don’t think I’m cut out for that type of relationship. I don’t think there is someone out there, my soulmate, to spend the rest of my life with. And I definitely don’t think that I need someone else to complete me, make me whole.

That doesn’t mean that I’m a hermit. Far from it, in fact. I do date and enjoy it, but try to steer clear of any where-is-this-relationship-going type discussions.

It may well be to do with my childhood. I’ll admit, I’ve not had the most normal upbringing and that could have coloured my view of happily-ever-after love.

I’ve never been part of a conventional family unit. Well, I mean, I was for the first four years of my life —until my parents died in a car accident. And, at that age, how much can you remember? I do have some vague memories — rough tweed fabric against my cheek as my father’s strong arms lift me up, the smell of ‘Miss Dior’ perfume as my mother’s soft hands caress my cheek, the sound of laughter as we dance around the living room to Michael Jackson. But these are only fleeting recollections, ephemeral, gone in an instant.

All my real childhood memories are centred around one man — my uncle, Lambert Beauchamp. He, unhesitatingly, took me in when my parents died and became my guardian, my parent, my rock. He and I were a team, and I miss him every single day.

He was a confirmed bachelor, and I don’t mean that in a euphemistic way. He lived his life by his own rules and if he had been gay, he would have seen no reason to hide it. No, he had no need for romantic entanglements, no complicated relationships, no messy sexual encounters. He had two loves in his life — me and his work. He was a professor at the University, teaching archaeology and could, quite happily, get lost for hours in the bowels of the archives, studying ancient Somarian drinking vessels.

Growing up he was my role model, my yardstick against which to measure boys.

And over time, I've come to realise that I've always found myself attracted to the type of men which have certain ‘Lambert-esque’ qualities. Which leads me, I suppose, to Frank.

Just like my uncle, he’s a professor at the university. In history — more recent than Lamb’s studies only three hundred years ago, not three thousand.  He’s single minded about his research, like my uncle, and he cares deeply about me, which makes me feel bad because I don’t feel the same way. Of course, I care about him, just not enough for a serious relationship that’s going somewhere.

All of this is a long winded way of saying what I’ve actually known for a while now... I need to break up with Frank.

*************

I’m just contemplating whether to brave the canteen or grab a sandwich from the hospital shop, when there’s a knock at my office door and a hand appears brandishing a couple of distinctive Gregg’s paper bags. This hand is closely followed by the rest of Geillis, who plonks herself down on one of my visitor chairs. A wonderful aroma of freshly baked goods wafts across the desk. My stomach rumbles in anticipation.

“Steak bake or sausage roll?” she asks as she places both bags on my desk, although she knows my preference.

“Ooh, how did you know I was just thinking about lunch?” I pick up one of the bags, the oozing gravy on its surface being a clear giveaway.

“We’ve been friends fer long enough,” Geillis smiles. “I ken what ye’re thinking. In fact, ye’ve something on yer mind right now. No’ a work thing. C’mon, spill.”

I swear, it’s uncanny. In the Middle Ages Geillis would undoubtedly have been tried as a witch. Her powers of deduction are that good.

I say nothing for a moment and focus on my lunch, blowing ineffectually on the hot meat filling.

“Weel? I’m waiting and ye ken I’m no’ a patient woman, Claire. This is tae do wi’ Frank, is it no’? Are ye planning on dumping him?”

See what I mean? Witchcraft.

“You make it sound so harsh. But I can’t carry on with Frank, he’s investing more into this… this—“

“Ye can say the word, Claire. Relationship… R… E…—“

“I know, I know. But I have to do something. I know Frank wants more than I want  to give in this ‘relationship’.” I  enunciate clearly just to make the point to Geillis. I’m not afraid of the word… I can say it.

“Anyway,” I add casually as I dab at the pastry crumbs with my finger. “I thought you’d be pleased. I know you’ve never liked him.”

Geillis tuts. “‘Tis no’ a matter of like. We jes’ havena got anything in common. He’s awfa serious and ye dampen yer personality down when ye’re with him. I’ve seen ye, ye canna deny it.”

I try to interject, but Geillis ignores my sounds of protest and carries on talking. “But it’s no’ jes’ Frank. Ye do this all the time, Claire. Whenever anyone tries tae get serious, ye run. What is wrong wi’ wanting a relationship anyway?”

“I have my work, I have my friends. I date, I go out with men, I have a good, if sporadic, sex life… and a trusty dual speed vibrator. What’s wrong with me wanting my life the way I want it?”

Geillis crams the end of her sausage roll into her mouth and chews vigorously for a minute. I pass her a paper serviette for her greasy hands. She gathers up the flaky pastry crumbs that have settled on her chest, wraps them in the serviette and pops it neatly in the bin.

“Ok, I get it. I’ll back off. But all I’m saying is dinna close yerself off tae the possibility of a real relationship, aye?”

Knowing she's gone as far as she can with this topic, she gets up and heads for the door. “Nae rest fer the wicked. Oh, and Claire, jes’ one thing…”

She pauses dramatically. “Dinna forget… ye’ve gravy on yer chin.”

And with that she disappears, leaving me with a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach caused by more than the calorie ridden pasty.

I am just settling down to dictate some patient letters when Frank texts to suggest dinner at my favourite Italian restaurant. This isn’t good. It’s a lovely restaurant, the kind of restaurant where special occasions are celebrated— birthdays, anniversaries, declarations…

So I have to lie… no, not lie, fib. I text back pleading a heavy day in theatre — aching feet, headache and so on.

His concerned response makes me feel bad. No need for fibbing, I do feel pretty shitty now. However, it also makes me more resolved to do what I have to do. I can’t drag this out, causing him more and more hurt. So, I invite him to my flat this evening instead.

*******

I have a final glance in the mirror in my bedroom. I do actually look a bit worn out. I haven’t really put any makeup on, just a touch of mascara and a slick of lipstick, which I have already managed to chew off.

My hair is, as per usual, a bit wild and untamed. I have a bathroom shelf full of products promising smooth and manageable curls, but have yet to find one that actually delivers on their promises. I tuck my hair behind my ears, pinch my cheeks to try to look a little less pale and head to the front door.

Frank is as punctual as ever. Unlike other things in my life, he’s always delivering on his promises. Which makes me feel even worse. I have nothing to accuse him of, no unacceptable behaviour— apart from wanting more than I’m prepared to give. That old cliché, “it’s not you, it’s me”, really is appropriate here. I’m going to try not to actually say those words though. He deserves more than that.

And so I take a deep breath and open the door. He stands there expectantly with two bottles of wine, one red and one white, in his hands.

“I wasn’t sure what we would be eating, so I got both just in case,” he volunteers as he walks in and leans close to me for a kiss.

I give him my cheek and make a fuss of taking the bottles from him to deflect my lack of affection.

He follows me into the lounge. I’m sure he notices that I make no offer to pour the wine. I set the wine on the coffee table and perch on the end of the settee.

Frank takes my hands. “Claire, darling, are you ok? Has it been a rough day?”

I shake my head. “It’s not been the best. Frank… I…”

I can’t even look at him now. I take a deep breath and plunge in. “Frank, I… the thing is… I don’t know how… I think we should stop seeing each other.” The words tumble out of my mouth like a deluge.

I finally look up as Frank releases my hands and walks over to the window. He stands still, his back to me, as if just taking in the view. Then he turns to face me, staring intently at me, scrutinising my face as if looking for a glimmer of hope. The silence is unbearable.

“Frank, it’s not you—“ I try to fill the void, by resorting to stale old clichés after all.

“Spare me that platitude.” He snaps at me. “We’re not fifteen. This was… is… serious to me, Claire.”

Frank now moves to sit next to me. His hand rests on my thigh, his fingers lightly drawing circles on my jeans. I watch for a moment. Am I supposed to move it? Should I remind him he no longer can touch me like this?

His voice softens.  “I lo—“

“No, please, Frank. Don’t say it. Please don’t. You are such a nice man. You don’t deserve this.” Gently, I lift his hand and  place it on his leg.

“Then don’t do it. Tell me, Claire, what do I have to do? What changes do I have to make for us to move forward? I’ll do it, tell me. We can make this work, I know.”

What do I say now? Anything I say will only hurt him more. All I can do is apologise and try to explain.

“I am sorry, really. It’s just, well, you want more than I can give. You think about a future—“

“And what’s wrong with that? That’s what most people want, Claire. Planning for a future together— a home, a family… our family.” Frank’s getting angry now, raising his voice.

“Please, I’m trying to explain. You want a future life together and I can’t give you that. I’m sorry that I’m hurting you.”

“Is there someone else? Is that what this is all about?”

I’ve been trying to remain composed, to give Frank the explanation he deserves. But this question annoys me beyond belief, as if I have to be one half of a couple.

“I can’t believe you asked that. No, it’s not about another man. I can’t be what you want me to be and that’s it.”

He stands up now, right in front of me. His hands are down by his sides, so tightly clenched into fists that his knuckles are white against the slight tan of his skin. For a fleeting nanosecond, I wonder if he is going to hit me. But, of course not, he’s just trying to gain control of himself.

“That’s it, then.” The words are spat out with venom.

“You know I’m sorry.”

He shrugs dismissively. “Of course. Well, goodbye.”

He makes for the door.

“What about the wine?” I indicate the two bottles, still on the table. It’s a pointless trivial comment, I know, but for some reason I don’t want him to think I expect to keep them.

Frank doesn’t even look over his shoulder. “Consider them a parting gift.”

And with that, he's gone.

I remain sitting motionless, processing what I’ve just done. It’s not easy hearing those words, but neither is it easy to have to say them. So many emotions are coursing through my body — sorrow, guilt, regret, self-reproach, worry. And in the midst of this maelstrom, there is one thing I can clearly recognise — a glimmering spark of relief.