#like this thing's keysmashes are subtle

[miscling]

we love subby trans girls who don't keysmash or get super flustered too, right?

[interstellarsystem]

Little Plural Things

Systems can present in a lot of different ways. Sometimes, being a system can be loud and obvious if you're naturally more overt and/or out about yourselves as plural. Sometimes, it can be quiet and barely noticeable, but still there--just harder to see. Our system is fairly obvious if we're unmasked, but there are still things that escape even our own knowledge when we're masking as hard as we can. Little things that to us, remind us that our system is undeniably real. This is a post about those experiences we've had with barely-noticeable signs of a system.

Not every system will relate to these experiences, some might feel similarly about a few points, some may have others of their own entirely, some might not know or not have anything like the experiences we mention, and that's all part of being plural. No two systems are mirror images of each other. This is a post about our experiences.

1. Handwriting

Recently, we've had it brought to our attention that we have different handwriting. We don't write with a pen/pencil often, but we were asked to fill out a worksheet for our psychologist recently. She told us that whoever in our system wants to contribute to it can, and suggested that we signify who wrote what in some way--to which we chose different pencil colours for different headmates. We took the worksheet home and put things on it depending on who was in the front and if they wanted to.

It turned out, that some of our writing widely differs from each other. Out of the 6 people who wrote on the sheet, most of them were wildly different. Rift and Martin wrote the most tidily, with Rift's writing looking more "proper" and "adult". I (Vince) apparently am not the best at neat writing but I managed to be better than what our "normal" writing is like from what we remember. Merlin wrote messily like he was writing very fast. Mystery wrote with very large letters with sharp angles that overall made it look like it was written by a child new to writing. Which makes absolute sense. It's not a child, but its hands in-headspace are bigger than ours and that was the actual first time it had written anything on paper since it got here.

Somehow, it took until our psychologist pointed it out for us to notice how different it was.

2. Vocabulary Choices

Something we are able to notice sometimes is how our vocabulary and sometimes sentence structure changes based on who is speaking. Some obvious examples are our British headmates substituting "bloody" for other words as an exclamation and the difference between what some of our headmates would call a "chip" or a "fry".

Other times though, it's more subtle. Sometimes there's certain phrases that will just have a word or two swapped out and it does tend to point toward who is fronting even if people do use multiple of these. Some examples are:

"I suppose" vs "I think" vs "I believe"

"Kinda" vs "Kind of" vs "Sort of" vs "Sorta"

"Recently" vs "A bit ago"

"Sleepy" vs "Tired"

"Lol" vs "Haha" vs "Lmao" vs a keysmash (Even though these are text-based they are quite telling.)

"Quite" vs "Very" (Speaking of the above.)

Getting more subtle with them, some other examples are:

"You know" vs "Y'know"

"Uh" vs "Um"

"Uh-Huh" vs "Mhm"

Sometimes typing is influenced too. The amount of em-dahses within the text, the consistency of proper punctuation, how mechanical the text feels, how many run-on sentences there are and even how much tends to be written in one message/post can all point toward different people being in control.

3. Accidental Accents and Inflections

While accents are usually very obvious, we're generally good at masking them. Generally.

Due to us living in Australia, our headmates with accents straight from London don't stick out too bad when they're struggling to mask, but they are still noticeable to those around us who know we're plural. Passerby on the street or people who don't see us often don't think much of it, but certain people we are close to know that a few people in our system find it harder to mask and can tell when they're fronting very easily because of it.

Even if we are masking our accents properly, some parts of the way we speak still come out. Some of us end sentences on a higher-pitch more often due to what our accent generally has us do and some end more on lower-pitch notes when speaking. Some of us put emphasis on certain syllables differently. There's lots of little things that go into language that make it hard to completely mask.

4. Food Choices

More of a noticeable one, but something we tend to brush off as "just a bad batch" when it happens. Some of us like and dislike different foods and drinks, some of us to an extreme degree.

Mystery hates the brand of juice we normally buy and thought that it might've just been past expiry (it was not) or just a bad batch of the juice, but they're consistently the only one who doesn't like it.

Rave likes spicy food much more than the rest of us because they have a harder time tasting it. I on the other hand can't handle spicy food at all and am worse with it than the others in my system.

Some of us favour different brands of food and some of us might like/dislike textures of food differently too.

5. Default Facial Expressions

Different resting facial expressions are something we hardly notice because we don't look in a mirror often due to dysphoria. What we do know though, is that some of us just rest our faces differently.

I look more stern and tired than others. I have a bit of an angrier resting expression.

Martin looks a little bit more anxious due to being an anxiety-holder, but he also looks softer and kinder.

Crowley also looks tired but has less of a stern look and more of an almost blank one.

6. Body Language

This is one we don't know too much about because we can only get knowledge on this from other people, but most of our headmates have a different "vibe" by the way they carry themselves.

I end up seeming to-the-point and business-like.

Martin reads as being very anxious even if he's not always.

Crowley reads as smug.

Mal reads as if he's planning something mischevious and silly.

We've been told that Filigree just reads as "gay".

We're not sure what actions make us seem this way, but some of us can be clocked by others around us as fronting without even talking first. I don't know how people do it, but it's something in our body language.

7. Clothing Choices

A few of us have different clothing choices--Crowley still wears sunglasses everywhere due to light sensitivity and wears dark colours, I prefer to wear button-up shirts as opposed to more casual things, Martin prefers hoodies that are lighter in colour and Merlin prefers to dress in pink and black and more fluffy textures.

We don't have too many clothes overall so to others it does just look like we're cycling through our wardrobe, and sometimes we are, but there's certain styles some of us tend to lean toward more than others.

---

Some of these might seem quite noticeable, and maybe they are if you know we're a system, but people change a lot so once again some of this is much more subtle than it sounds. People who don't know that you're a system hardly ever notice, and if they do they put it to "having an off day" and leave it at that.

We wanted to take some time to appreciate those little things we find it hard to notice, though. And maybe it'll end up helping some other system realise how unique they are as individuals and help fight off the imposter syndrome like these realisations did for us.

[projectlighthousefics]

Featured Fic #3: My Favorite Ghost

Today's featured fic is "My Favorite Ghost" by @cassieoh and @diminished-fish

--------------------- Read on ao3 ----------------------

Heaven was dim. Not dark. Not dead or even dying, simply… different. Shadowy.

The sudden presence of shadows in a realm of pure light probably should have frightened him, but all he felt was bewildered. It was so strange. So absolutely mystifying. Shadows piled in the corners like soft blue gossamer, draped themselves across the corridors in shifting grey veils, cloaked entire chambers in hazy fog. It lent a quality to the atmosphere that was simultaneously cavernous and diminished — the subtle, impossible architecture of the place suddenly impossible to ignore.

He wished it frightened him. Fear was a far simpler state of mind than bewilderment. Fear inspired action, provided a goal and a direction. A purpose. Having none of these things, he wandered.

-------------------------- Read more on ao3 -----------------------

We encourage readers to engage with the fic as well. Comments are always appreciated, and we hope to foster a greater sense of interaction in the community.

Here are some ideas if you don't know where to begin:

What was your favorite moment? Was there a character, scene, or line that made you laugh? Smile? Cry? Did you connect with the author's style? Love the dialogue? The action?

Short comments are okay too! It's totally fine to just say that you liked the fic, to leave a keysmash of emotion, or even an emoji. Comments are always appreciated!

[svnflower-writes]

i could never give you peace

description: James reached his hand out, gently cupping Regulus’ cheek and moving some hair out of his eyes. “Hey, little star.” Regulus leaned slightly into the touch, but didn’t speak. “Let’s get you to your room, yeah?”

or

in which James comforts Regulus after a particularly bad fight with his parents.

relationship: bodyguard!james potter x regulus black

warnings: mentions of child abuse, secret/forbidden relationship, hurt/comfort, angst, james may be slightly out of character but idk maybe he's just sad 😭

requested: yes!! @allyeardepression requested this about 4 months ago and i am SO sorry for taking so long writer's block has been kicking my ass omg i started writing as soon as you requested it but it sat there unfinished for far too long. anyway i hope you like it!!!

note: uh ok hi. this is the first thing i've posted in MONTHS and i wrote most of it in class so it's not great but fuck it i had to post something. also... sorry. the first thing i write in five months and it's heartwrenching angst, which is very typical of me. also based off a taylor swift song which is also very typical of me

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54453148

marauders taglist: (lmk if you want to be added or removed) @lovefolder @gu1lty-as-sin @dandelions-fly-in-summer-skies @a-beautiful-fool @optimizedchaos @qwerty-keysmash @lost-in-reveriie @tulips-best @nqds

James had to pretend that it didn’t affect him, seeing Orion and Walburga treat their children like they did. After all, he was there to work for all of them. But Merlin, he felt bad. The looks that flashed across the younger brother’s face were subtle enough that anyone else would have missed it, but James didn’t miss any small details—especially when they were to do with the little star.

This was one of these moments, James was positioned outside the closed door as he heard the screaming match going on directly behind him. He heard snippets of conversation, words such as ‘useless’ and ‘pathetic’ making their way to his ears and crushing a little bit of his heart. He supposed he was lucky not to be in the room while it was happening, but all he wanted was to rush in and protect Regulus from the harsh words and actions of his parents.

James allowed his head to rest against the wall, exhaling slowly as his eyes trailed over the dark tiles on the ceilings. The decor on the house was not to James’ personal taste, a combination of dark brown, green, cream, and black. He glanced down to the floor, the extravagant geometric tiles making him feel claustrophobic and sick to the stomach. Harsh black wallpaper covered the wall, the dull gold picture frames making a pathetic attempt to soften the unharmonious glare. The paintings in the frames were judging him, the upturned noses and narrowed eyes made that obvious enough.

James and Regulus had been quick to subtly remove the paintings in the hallway outside Reg’s room—Orion and Walburga didn’t tend to go up there, so no one noticed. Sirius had given them a knowing smirk when he’d caught them sneaking down a hall with a covered portrait of one of Regulus’ great aunts, but he had said nothing. Sirius held an undeniable feeling of respect for James, he could see how much he cared for his little brother, and for that he was eternally grateful.

A sharp, high pitched shout broke James out of his trance, and he glanced at the door with a grimace.

Walburga Black was his least favourite person in the whole world. He couldn’t clearly hear what followed the shout, but he had a few ideas of what it could be. He had been in the room when this had happened a few times before, and Sirius had always seemed indifferent to his parents actions—James knew he wasn’t, of course.

It was all just an act in the Black family, everyone simply pretending to be okay and pushing their feelings to the back of their minds. Regulus was less numb to the pain, and while Sirius just sat there sprawled out on the couch, ignoring his parents, Regulus always looked unnaturally stiff. He was trying to copy Sirius, that much was obvious. But it was clear that the words got to Regulus, the way his brows furrowed and he blinked quickly or looked away with fiddling hands.

Then again, maybe there was a reason that James noticed these things—not that he could take much notice of whatever underlying feelings there were anyway, since Regulus might as well be his employer. He knew Regulus felt the same, of course. There were signs, there had been since a mere two months after James started the job. Fleeting glances, brief touching of fingers as James passed him something to eat, waiting for him in the halls— the list could go on and on.

Regulus knew that James liked him too, as James wasn’t exactly subtle. He tended to forget himself when they were around others, such as Sirius or Pandora—which made for a lot of teasing from the two. Barty and Evan couldn’t say much, as they were in much the same situation.

So the two had kept up the secret whispers and hidden gazes, neither boy making any more to further the relationship, even behind closed doors. There was only so much they could get away with, and they were not embarrassed to admit that they were terrified. They were terrified of the nature of their world, the judgements and the prejudice that came with merely trying to exist. They would prefer to be open with each other about their relationship, but they would take whatever they could get at this point.

The door next to him flew open and Walburga stormed out, not even sparing James the slightest glance as she walked past him. Orion followed close behind, the harsh glare painting his face giving James an idea of the severity of the fight. After the brother’s exchanged short hushed whispers, Sirius walked through the door, offering James a small, polite smile. He walked past and James stopped him quietly. Sirius’ eyes narrowed slightly.

“Is there anything I can do?” At James’ words, Sirius’ expression softened.

“Talk to him. I’ve done as much as I can, but I think we both know that you’re better at this stuff.” Sirius pulled James into a quick hug, “and thank you. It means a lot that you try, seriously. It’s not exactly part of your job description.” Sirius being Sirius, he laughed, but it was obvious that he wasn’t actually amused. James had known Sirius for three years, and if there was one thing he had learnt about him, it was his use of humour as a coping mechanism.

“You go sneak out to Remus, I’ll take care of him.”

Sirius grinned slightly, reaching out to ruffle James’ hair, “aw, you know me too well.”

James groaned at his now messy hair—as if his hair wasn’t always a mess—pushing Sirius away and waving him towards the door, ���go find your lover, Pads.”

Sirius was out the door without another word.

James glanced down the hallway to ensure it was empty and walked into the room the fight had just taken place in. Regulus was sitting on the ground and had his knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, and head leaning against the cushion of the couch. He didn’t look up when James entered, nor when the older boy crouched down in front of him. His face wasn’t betraying what emotions he was feeling, but James knew.

James always knew.

James reached his hand out, gently cupping Regulus’ cheek and moving some hair out of his eyes. “Hey, little star.” Regulus leaned slightly into the touch, but didn’t speak. “Let’s get you to your room, yeah?”

Regulus nodded, mumbling something incoherent under his breath before looking up. “Good idea.” he took James’ outstretched hand to help him up off the ground. Even well after he had stood up, he kept his hand in James’, determined not to let go.

Regulus clearly had something he wanted to say, but his brain was not connected to the rest of his body, still in autopilot from the fight. His eyes were empty and his hands were clasped together in front of him as James gently rested his palm on his lower back to guide him up the stairs. Regulus subtly leaned into the touch, his heartbeat slowly calming and the goosebumps littering his skin beginning to fade.

Merely being near James brought him an unparalleled sense of peace.

James let his hand rub up and down his lower back comfortingly, and for a brief second he considered taking Regulus’ hand in his own but he decided against it. His brain was plagued with guilt, wishing he could rescue Regulus from the cruel reality that was his family. But no matter what James wanted, it wasn’t that simple. It never was.

James could never give Regulus peace.

Regulus stopped walking and James looked up from where his gaze had been fixed on the floor in confusion. He soon noticed that they were in fact directly outside the door to Regulus’ room. Regulus seemed to take notice of the fact that James was lost in his head and he squeezed his hand reassuringly.

After checking if the hallway was clear, James quickly opened the door. He wasn’t really supposed to enter any of the private rooms in the house, but Regulus had insisted many times that it was alright. No matter how safe Regulus felt around him, he couldn’t risk Orion and Walburga spotting him. He really was Regulus’ only source of comfort.

Regulus sat down on his bed with a blank expression on his face. James sat down next to him and pulled a bottle of water out of his bag. He handed it to Regulus with no words spoken, because the pair didn’t need words. This routine was very familiar to the two of them now, it was almost a second nature.

James quickly checked for any injuries—he hadn’t heard anything to make him suspect that there could’ve been a physical nature to the fight, but he had seen enough bruises on the Black siblings to make double checking an automatic part of the procedure. There was one on the side of Regulus’ cheek, and James pulled out the healing ointment from his bag and carefully put a little bit on the bruise.

James pushed the guilt at being unable to protect Regulus from his parents aside, knowing that this was not about him.

Once Regulus had finished, he slowly leaned into James’ side, letting out a sigh as he closed his eyes. The crook of James’ neck was like a puzzle piece that was made perfectly for Regulus’ head, and as the two slowly relaxed into each other's presence, James let his hands drift up to Regulus’ hair. His fingers slowly entangled themselves into the dark curls as he comfortingly stroked Regulus’ forehead.

It was clear to James that the support Regulus needed right now was not someone to tend to his wounds, but someone to hold him. So hold him he did. James’ right hand moved slowly up and down the small of Regulus’ back soothingly, showing an undeniable caution not to startle the younger boy with any quick movements.

He cared more about the little star than was possible to admit, and he prioritised his safety over everything else. The two lay in each other’s arms for what felt like (and probably was) hours. Suddenly, Regulus shifted in his arms, mumbling something under his breath.

James tilted his head like a confused puppy, gesturing for Regulus to repeat himself. Regulus cleared his throat and glanced away.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For…” Regulus trailed off, and James was about to let it go—he wasn’t going to push for him to open up more than he was willing to do.

“...for keeping me safe.”

The dark haired boy’s voice was merely a whisper, head buried into James’ shoulder as he refused to meet his eyes. He was embarrassed, James realised. He didn’t know what to say, so he stayed silent.

James thought that the two were about to fall back into their silence, when Regulus spoke. “It’s peaceful.”

Giving him an inquisitive look, James turned to face Regulus.

“Being here with you. You’re peaceful.”

James stiffened slightly before slowly nodding, “yeah, I know what you mean. You’re peaceful too, little star.”

You deserve more peace than I can give you.

Regulus smiled up at him, entwining their fingers reassuringly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more at peace than I am when I lie here with you.”

Merlin, it’s like he can hear my thoughts.

Finally, James responded. “You mean more to me than anyone else ever has, little star.”

There was a raw honesty in his tone. He may not love their situation, but he loved the boy in front of him with his whole heart.

No matter where this road was leading, James knew it was where he wanted to go. Whatever the roadworks along the way, he was in this for good.

[inverdade]

HOJO - full name

the professor's original full legal name was Hugo Rojo Durán Tadeo Torrez. along the way between his multiple transfers between universities, studies, companies and departments, somewhere along the way it got shortened to "H. Rojo Torrez" which was eventually misspoken in hugo's presence when they tried to read his chicken scratch handwriting - and he thought it was the FUNNIEST thing. hojo? hojo? do people not know who he is? the person in question, of course, did not work with him for much longer.

but in truth, at that point in time people did not know who he was. a recent graduate with macabre interests and a lifetime of warning bells about his vicious nature going from company to company seeing who'd give him the most reach to chase his niche research interests. he had to make a name for himself... and he'd do it as professor hojo, as an inside joke for himself only.

this also makes trying to find his digital reports harder than it should be, as all his notes aren't actually written by "hojo" but "hrojo". also they're all sorted by date and the file names are "encrypted". and by encrypted i mean he keysmashes. it's no a problem for him as he has a near perfect memory, but good luck to anyone else trying to read through his notes.

GENESIS - basic plotline

at the start of project G in 1982 he was named 'genevieve', as initial screenings showed him to be female even if imaging at the time was unclear - or so hollander believed. another point of mockery and contention between hojo and hollander. the logs detailing the project up to his abandonment by shinra name him so which is why they spent so long unperturbed and hidden.

instead, genesis was born intersex with mostly male affects, and although he went through all the same in-vitro procedures as angeal, he was dropped from the project before it was deemed a failure for being an outlier they didn't feel like accounting for.

this left shinra with an infant to hand off, and in luck, so was a family in banora seeking fertility treatments from shinra - wealthy barons seeking to have another child after the loss of their youngest one.

the rhapsodos, the wealthiest family in banora. although the initial reception was cold, as they were at seeking to have another biological child of their own when shinra proposed his adoption, genesis' distinct looks and sharp personality as he grew up won them over.

a child of clear nepotism, he's never had to wait for anything, his every want answered and every idea catered to. there is no denying that he was a bright, idealistic child… but creating am apple juice brand at a young age is not exactly impressive in the grand scheme of things when your family owns the farms and the trees and has the money to make it happen. in truth, it was a simple overnight deal, "his" company made a subsidiary of his parent's already established brand.

and this, in part, is why he grew up so restless and dissatisfied. he was born out of mankind's entitlement to power, and so he lived by it — he thought himself better than the "simpletons" that surrounded him, the only one he tolerated being angeal who was the only one stubborn and brave enough to cut through his petty antics.

banora and it's dumbapples… were beneath him. he wanted more. he deserved more… and that's where his infatuation with sephiroth and his global fame began. because that's what HE wanted, and he's never had to wait for anything before… it was finally a challenge, something he had to work for…

until he didn't. until he reached the top and was still just under sephiroth, never on the same level. it was a resentment that settled in his bones as much as he convinced himself he cared for the man he now could call his friend…

but were they friends, really? had it been not for angeal's mediating presence, genesis' behavior easily tipped from playful rivalry to clearly antagonistic… without sephiroth even being able to acknowledge it for what it was, genesis operating on subtle social clues not innate to a man that grew up in isolation. snide backhanded compliments, playing down his achievements, doubting his struggles… all with a faux caring feel.

sephiroth had everything he wanted, and so he could not extend any sympathy towards him without angeal there to twist his arm and get him to stop being a dick.

and it all comes to a boiling point when he begins to degrade. instead of taking his diagnosis with any sort of grace genesis sees this as an offense against him specifically, instead of being a known risk of being subjected to the SOLDIER enhancement procedures he so covered in order to find fame and power, procedures he'd been warned could play badly with his imbalanced hormones.

for the first time in his life things don't go as he wants them to go, and he can't handle it - and so he makes it everyone else's problem. he lashes out at anything and anyone, he scorns the people that helped him get to where he is, he blames everyone but himself for all of his life's misfortunes… and it only gets worse the more he finds out on project G. because it gives reason to his befuddled mind, it makes it right in his eyes, what he's doing…

even as he kills the only family that he knew, that took in an infant with open arms without question of his origin. even as he brings ruin to his hometown town, set to be erased from the maps due to his actions. as he grabs the one true friend he's ever known and drags him down to hell along with him. as he selfishly burns everything in his path in the search of a cure for the world's oldest ailment - death.

to be established - how he convinced hundreds of other SOLDIERs to follow in his steps ( how long has he been festering anti-shinra sentiment vs how genuine that sentiment is vs how much of it was him taking advantage of people that trusted him with their lives ) / the actual existence of 'genesis copies' ( mental state, willingness, health ) / relationship to hollander & his adoptive parents & gillian / public opinion & his derision of it yet codependent nature and need to be relevant / etc etc

[vernalloy]

I think the thing where the authors of these delusion! AUs are hitting my spine are that. They’re pulling from media portrayals rather than. Actually reasoning through or even researching what it’d be like.

So tips fur writing delusions! I’m going to make a lot of generalizations here, some people can’t double bookkeep, or don’t have positive ways of interacting with the delusion, or have short delusions, or respond positively to reality checks. I’m primarily pulling from my own experience here.

1. At least on the schizo-spectrum, the longer they last, the slower they come. Brief psychosis has a really short onset, schizophreniform has a shorter prodrome than schizophrenia/schizoaffective. Generally, delusions grow. They come together on nothing, but they take time to take root on equal or greater footing than reality.

2. Double bookkeeping! Exists! Even past this there’s just. If you knew something about the world that no one else did. That you knew they’d treat you violently for if you revealed it. You’d keep it under wraps. Keep your rituals subtle. Don’t talk about it.

3. They generally don’t vanish upon reason. They wax and wane and change, and rarely respond to logic past perhaps changing to accommodate or override new facts.

4. If you have a secret reality you have something to deal with it. A monster under the bed? Shove boxes under there. Feel everyone’s out to get you? Carry a bread knife (it sucks at stabbing) or keep your back only to walls. Feel you’re not human? Let it wash over you instead of insisting truth one way or the other.

Again, these masks often degrade as the illness runs its course. Delusions operate on dream logic, they’re flexible and like to spread.

Also pleasseeeeee acknowledge other symptoms than delusions + hallucinations when you write a psychotic character. Reading John Darnielle novels makes me jump for joy because his psychotic characters get thought blocking and fucked up cognition on top of hallucinations. In many cases they’re more significant than the positive symptoms! Alex’s affect is remarked upon more than his hallucinations.

Shrek voice they don’t even have repetitive self soothing movements in their psychotic characters

Keysmash. I don’t know how to articulate this last part but there are a lot of times where. It feels like psychotic characters can present in exactly three ways: the obvious psycho killer, and then in more sympathetic contexts: no illogic or heck even symptoms past hallucinations, or an unstable baby with no autonomy. And it feels. Like these arise from a gap the author sees between them and psychotics. And when writing anything other than a violent stereotype, they have a tendency to overshoot and leave out any unsympathetic symptoms. Like they try to write a neurotypical who hallucinates.

Which is frustrating because a lot of these authors have adhd/autism and the two share plenty in outward presentation with psychosis. We all have executive dysfunction and inappropriate affect and shit memory and poor audio regulation and hey you know what? Psychotic disorders are comorbid with autism & adhd! Because psychosis is understood to arise primarily from a combination of genetics and stress! And you know what causes stress? Being neurodivergent!!!

Idk id just like that when I open up AO3 I’m not hit with a wall of people who did next to no research when they wanted to write their angst fics about my sicko mind.

[takeariskao3]

two questions! 1. would you mind sharing a piece (or type) of feedback that makes you feel good about your work (and why), and 2. feedback that you wish you'd gotten on something but didn't? please be as specific or general as you'd like.

ok ok ok

i love keysmashes. i love knowing that i rendered such an emotional response that a person doesn't even have words they just have KSLDJFLSKDAFJ... because i know what that feels like for me when i do it and knowing i made someone else feel that way is super gratifying and puts a big ole grin on my face... i also really love when someone picks up on something super subtle that i put in a piece and expounds on it.. @heartstopping-waves is notorious for this. her comments always astound me because she picks up on intentions behind story decisions and then yells them back at me in infinite detail. sometimes she catches things that i didn't even know i was consciously doing. she's incredible. i adore her.

i don't think there's anything that i wish i'd gotten feedback on.. as far as like concrit or feeling like a story didn't get as much love as i expected. i try not to have expectations at all as far as comments & kudos... that being said there are some clues in the path from you that i keep waiting for people to pick up on but i haven't seen any comments about them yet.. that's been the most fun for me. hearing people's theories and dropping little hints about random things along the way. i'm always so surprised by what sticks out in a person's mind after they read a chapter, because there are things that are common and then there are things that i never would've thought in a billion years that someone would latch onto. it's a very humbling experience.

ask me anything!!

[olliedollie1204]

magic touch

Pairing: Romantic Moceit

Word Count: 1,322

so @emo-disaster asked for moceit, i was going to send this premise as an ask, but the more i thought about it the more i wanted to add to it, so... tada! my first bullet fic! hope y’all like it, love u mwah

so patton is obvi a v physically affectionate person

deceit is,,, less so

at least at first

here’s how that changed

so

it’s in the pining period, before the two of them got together

and deceit comes to a realization

the realization being... he kinda likes when patton... touches him?

no not like that remus

but like

patton throws an arm around his shoulder, casual and quick, and deceit lets him

patton grabs his hand, gives it a squeeze because something exciting and wonderful has just happened, and deceit lets him

patton ruffles his hair on the one single occasion patton sees him without his hat, and deceit lets him

deceit may or may not go without his hat again in the hopes that patton will repeat the gesture

and deceit doesn't realize how much he likes the touch

until it goes away

just for a few days!! maybe patton has to work overtime to help thomas w something, idk

but deceit's suddenly very aware of how. warm and soft and comforting and gentle patton is.

and he misses it?

even though he's not gone, just busy

but deceit would rather die before he asks patton to stop working to, what, come cuddle him?

that’s ridiculous

(he wants patton to cuddle him, tho. he wants to v v bad)

‘but NO’ deceit says to himself, ‘of COURSE i don't need that, i didn't need it before and i don't need it now’

liar liar pants on fire

so deceit hunkers down, does his own stuff for a few days

but he can’t stop wondering why he feels so pent up and tense and irritated

meanwhile

patton's a little worse for wear himself

he's worn out and tired from working so hard recently

and he wouldn't mind some physical affection?

but he knows that's not deceit's thing and he doesn't wanna pressure him

(he’d never, ever wanna pressure him)

so when he finally gets a break, a night to himself, some time alone to relax and recuperate from all his work

he tiptoes to deceit's room

telling himself he's content with just saying hi and good night

and ‘i love you’

but patton doesn’t want to pressure him

so he knocks on deceit’s door

nothing

knocks again

nothing

he pushes a little harder on the door with his knuckles, and-

and it swings open

like maybe deceit was leaving it open for someone

so patton steps in

deceit’s at his desk, his back to the door

no hat, no capelet

just simple pajamas and big noise cancelling headphones on his head

‘did he steal those from virgil?’ patton wonders idly

he did

patton takes a few steps toward him

“hi, dee”

deceit’s hands are flying over the keyboard, patton almost couldn’t even hear himself over the click-clack of the keys

patton gets a bit closer, tries again

“deceit?”

still nothing

patton is standing right behind him now

patton can smell his shampoo from here

patton can’t explain why he does what he does next

patton lifts his hand

and places it flat on deceit’s back, right between his shoulderblades

... deceit.exe has stopped working

what that looks like is this: deceit’s fingers suddenly spasm, like he started to clench his fists but froze halfway through, and his perfect typing suddenly stops, the last line of text now riddled with typos and incomprehensible keysmashes

it was less than a second, but it could’ve been years

patton feels the subtle shift of tense muscles underneath his palm

deceit feels a sudden warmth that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up

the next second, and the moment passes

patton pulls away, all “i’m sorry!” and “i didn’t mean to interrupt you” and “i just wanted to see you, to say hi, to say goodnight, to say-”

deceit isn’t listening

deceit is spinning around in his desk chair

deceit is leaping up to grab patton’s wrist

gently, gently, so gently

deceit is pulling patton into him

deceit

and 

patton 

are 

hugging

...

‘he’s hugging me?’ patton thinks, the one thought his brain can create in this moment of shock

‘i’m hugging him?’ deceit thinks, the one thought his brain can create in this moment of humiliation

honestly, ‘hugging’ is generous

it’s more like deceit has wrapped his arms around patton’s neck

his face has fallen onto his shoulder

just absolutely clinging to him, really

the snake jumped out

and deceit is... so embarrassed

but he can’t make himself let go

and then

deceit still can’t believe this

and then patton

hugs

him

back

???

DECEIT.EXE HAS STOPPED WORKING

patton doesn’t say anything

(patton is having trouble remembering how to breathe, let alone how to form words into coherent sentences)

instead patton finally manages to raise his arms

wraps them so tightly around deceit’s torso

leans forward to smell that shampoo up close

it’s eucalyptus, if you’re wondering

like second nature, patton rubs his hands up and down deceit’s back

he’s warm and soft and comforting and gentle

... oh my god, deceit has missed this so much

at some point, one of patton’s hands rises to card through deceit’s hair and he almost whines out loud at how good it feels

patton scratches his nails very softly against deceit’s scalp

deceit does whine out loud, actually

it’s illegally adorable

that little noise is enough to break the spell

deceit pulls his head back

he hopes beyond hope that his blush isn’t visible in the half light of his room

it is but patton doesn’t mention it

“um” deceit says

“sorry about. that”

eloquent as ever

patton blinks

“why sorry?”

“because” deceit starts

he doesn’t finish

because he realizes two things

the first realization: his arms are still wrapped around patton

(a distressing observation, to be sure)

the second realization?

patton’s arms are still wrapped around deceit as well

(less distress, more confusion)

“dee?”

patton’s face inches away from his

patton’s eyes sparkling even in the dark

patton’s... lips-

...

so

deceit is kissing him

deceit is... kissing. Him.

... huh

...

...

... oh! oh, he should be kissing back!

so patton kisses deceit back

and they kiss

and they kiss

and they kiss

and they... wow, still kissing, huh?

ok let’s jump forward a bit

patton has changed into some of deceit’s pajamas

(he could’ve conjured his own but they both sorta pretend to forget that fact)

(because deceit’s sleep shirt absolutely swallows patton)

(and it makes patton feel really good)

(and it makes deceit feel really good)

and patton has asked once more if deceit is sure he doesn’t mind if patton sleeps in their

“i mean, it’s your room, i don’t wanna impose, just say the word and i’ll leave-”

“patton we just made out for 20 minutes, don’t you think if i wanted you gone i’d have said so sooner?”

(deceit is being extra snarky to hide the fact that his blush has somehow not died down in the slightest)

(patton sees right through him so it’s ok)

so eventually they manage to get into bed together

no not like that remus

and there’s just like. a few beats of awkwardness

because even tho they’re *~going steady~* they’ve obviously never really done anything like this before

and deceit doesn’t wanna seem needy

and patton doesn’t wanna seem pushy

so they literally take it inch by inch

like

patton: *brushes his pinky against deceit’s*

deceit: *grazes the back of patton’s hand with his knuckles*

like i’m talking glacier pace

but they’re smiling and giggling (and yes, deceit, blushing) like little kids

so deceit finally works up the nerve to push his back against patton’s chest

and patton finally works up the courage to wrap his arms around deceit’s torso

and it’s like two pieces of a puzzle have just clicked in place

because

surprise surprise

turns out these motherfuckers love to cuddle

and the rest is history

edit: now with art to go with it!! thank you star!!

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

veracity - v. dunn

As promised, here’s one of our many resident himbos, Vince Dunn, in “I didn’t realize wer were dating.” As I’m sure a lot of other writers have experienced lately, reblogs have definitely been down, so I would love it if you’d give a reblog if you like it. I also read the tags! Alternately, feel free to keysmash in my inbox or let me know what your favorite parts were. 

word count: 4.9k+

warnings: light sexual content (brief)

Aly Kalinski had never bothered leaving her home town. Why would she? She loved St. Louis. She was born there, went to public schools in the city, and barely moved ten miles away from home for her art degree at SLU. For all its faults, she loved her city. Aly met Vince her sophomore year of college, an accidental run-in at her favorite sandwich shop that had turned into a friendship that had turned into a relationship. So it was a no-brainer decision for Aly to stay once she graduated, getting a position teaching middle and high school art at a school in the suburbs and a loft in downtown. She didn’t want to leave her parents, or her city. Or Vince. 

They had just gotten together, and it really hadn’t come as a surprise to anyone but them. Her older sister rolled her eyes when Aly told her, saying that “it was only a matter of time. You two practically act like an old married couple already.” Her parents were shocked even less. Vince’s teammates had actually been some of the biggest perpetrators in the first place, not-so-subtly leaving them in rooms together at parties and encouraging Aly to admit the feelings she wasn’t even sure she had until a few months ago. But it had happened organically, so naturally that Aly really couldn’t even put a pin on the point where their friendship had turned into romance. All she knew was that she was falling hard for Vince Dunn, and for once in her life, she wasn’t trying to stop herself. 

September

Clashing teeth and her hands running through his hair and his fingernails digging into the backs of her thighs was all Aly felt as Vince held her up against the door. “Vin, bedroom,” Aly gasped, pulling away for air. 

“Mhm,” he said absentmindedly, his lips trailing kisses down the column of her neck as her legs wrapped around his waist. He walked backwards into his room, dropping her down on the bed. She fumbled with the buttons on her shirt as he frantically pulled his belt off. God, it had been too long since they had touched each other. Vince had only recently returned to St. Louis for training camp and the start of pre-season, but he had been so exhausted from drills and scrimmages that all he could manage on nights they got together was curl into Aly’s side with some take out and turn on reruns of Kitchen Nightmares. She had visited him in Toronto for two weeks in July and August — it didn’t always work out so perfectly, but she was thankful that teaching meant most of her summers were free — and they had obviously had sex while they were there, but she had been missing it more than she wanted to admit. Missing him. 

So when they went out to a downtown bar with the rest of the team to celebrate the end of training camp, and Aly didn’t have work the next day, they were both more than happy to indulge in a little liquid courage. Which meant a couple of  drinks and a few more flirty touches later and the pair made their excuses to the rest of the group, Vince pulling up his Uber app before they were even out the door. And they weren’t exactly subtle about it  — Sammy had definitely shouted “USE PROTECTION” while Vince threw him a middle finger  — but they they needed each other too much to really give a fuck. 

Vince trailed his fingers up her now-bare sides, the clasp of her bra falling open with a well-practiced flick. Aly palmed him over his jeans, trying half-heartedly to reverse their positions. Vince groaned. “Not tonight, baby. I need you.” Well, it’s not like she was going to argue with that. Her leggings came off in record time. His jeans followed. Aly dropped her head into the crook of his neck as he slid into her. God, they could do this a million times and she’d never get used to how good he felt. “You’re fuckin’ incredible, Aly, you know that?” Vince gasped out. 

She pressed a kiss onto his shoulder. “You might've mentioned it once or twice, but feel free to keep going, Dunn,” she said. 

He quickened his pace. “I will.” Ten minutes and two orgasms later, she was wrapped in Vince’s arms, trying to savor every last moment before she had to get up and use the bathroom. “I meant what I said, you know?” Vince said, one hand carding through her hair. “You really are incredible, Aly. And when we’re together…” He paused, searching for the right words. 

“There’s only a few things in my life that have always come easy. Hockey, never being able to say no to ice cream, and you. I never feel like I have to be anyone other than exactly who I am when I’m with you, and I don’t know if you know just how meaningful that is for me. I need it, and I need you.” Aly smiled, turning over and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. This was the closest he’d gotten so saying he loved her, and she’d take it. 

January

Aly sipped her champagne, her eyes surveying the downtown St. Louis ballroom where she found herself on a Saturday evening. Her free hand fingered with the sequin-adorned cloth of her dress, brushing up against the thigh-high slit. It wasn’t something she would have ever bought for herself, but she loved it. It caught the light like nothing she’d ever seen and Vince’s jaw had nearly fallen off the second he saw her when he picked her up for the gala. He had bought it for her, too, insisting that if he had invited her the least he could do was spare her the expense of going out and buying one on her own.

Her job paid well for a teacher, especially one in their first few years, but she wasn’t about to complain when Vince gave her his card and sent her into the shopping district to find a dress for the night. He had told her to get something stunning, and she had delivered in spectacular fashion. It was the Blues’ big fundraising gala for the year, an annual charity event to benefit the children’s hospital. Essentially, the night was an opportunity to party on the team’s dime while wining and dining Midwestern elite in a bid to get them to open up their checkbooks. It was something that Alexandra Kalinski was proving surprisingly adept at; even though she didn’t have nearly the rapport with some of the businessmen and philanthropists as most of the players and their partners did, she was able to turn on the same “teacher” charm she used on back-to-school nights, lay the accent on a little thicker than she usually would, and tug at the heartstrings of multi-millionaires with a story of a seventh grader in one of her intro painting classes who had been treated for leukemia in the hospital’s oncology ward. They couldn’t write the checks fast enough. 

But Aly found herself at the bar a few hours in, next to Sammy as Vince smooth-talked someone she vaguely recognized as an exec for the Cardinals. Transitioning from friendship to being a couple, at least in regards to their social lives, had been much easier than she had thought. It had all just been so natural that people probably wouldn’t have even noticed if it hadn’t been for the looks she gave him, or her now-permanent spot on the “good chair” in the family box — that everyone else claimed was too lumpy but Aly swore up and down was the most comfortable place in the whole room  — or the time Colton had walked in on them hooking up in a supply closet at the Enterprise Center during a wine tasting with season ticketholders. But she had loved everything in their relationship so far, loved how welcoming all of the other WAGs were and how happy everyone had been for them when they finally got together. “God, it was about time,” Sammy had said. 

She could see that the person Vince was talking to had started making his way over to the reception table, where all the donations were being collected, and caught his eye just as he was being swept into yet another conversation. Vince liked people, there was no doubt about it, and he loved being able to help out a cause as incredible as the children’s hospital, but after almost four hours of schmoozing and small talk it was beginning to take a toll on even him. Aly gave him a tiny nod, a signal that anyone else probably would have missed, but one that Vince understood instantly. She was coming to get him. Alexandra was by his side in thirty seconds flat, her hand resting between his shoulder blades while she smiled apologetically to the man across from them. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I’ve got a headache and have had a bit too much to be driving myself home. Would you mind taking me?” 

Vince nodded, trying to keep his enthusiasm dampened. “Of course, babe. No problem.” He gave the businessman his best PR smile. “Sorry to have to leave so abruptly, but duty calls. Thank you so much for coming out tonight and supporting such a great cause, it really means a lot to me and the whole team.” With a perfunctory handshake, they began heading towards the exit, his hand gripping hers as they wove through the crowd. “Thanks for that, Aly,” he said as he opened up the passenger door for her. “I really was running on empty there.”

She smiled softly back at him. “Always.”

May 

Vince’s arm was draped casually over the back of Aly’s chair, his fingertips dancing over her shoulder. She was beaming up at the couple under the flower-covered wedding chuppah at the end of the aisle, leaning into Vince’s side. Her cousin Olivia was getting married, her and her soon-to-be wife Yara had been together for years and had finally decided to take the next step. When she got the invitation four months earlier, she hadn’t hesitated to invite Vince as her plus one. They had been dating for a little under a year by that point, but seeing as how most of her family was local — some of her mom’s family was in Wisconsin, but nobody really aside from that — he had already met everyone important. 

The ceremony went by in the blink of an eye, Yara and Olivia broke the glasses, and everyone began milling over towards the barn for the reception. Olivia and Yara had already met Vince some six months before, and had immediately taken to each other. The brides came over to their table after thanking everyone for coming, and dinner was served. She had never seen anyone eat as many dinner rolls in one sitting as Vince did.

---

“Alexandra!” Aly heard an excited voice from the other corner of the room over the cacophony of the music, and barely turned her head quickly enough to see who had called her name before she was pulled into a warm hug. 

Aly laughed when she saw who it was. “Nice to see you, Aunt Ruth. Aunt Ruth, this is Vince. Vince, this is my Aunt Ruth,” Aly said, gesturing to the woman across from them. 

Vince held out his hand, but Ruth waved it off. “We’re huggers here, Vince. She brought you to the wedding. You’re practically family.” She raised her eyebrows at the couple. “When’s it going to be your turn, hm?” 

Aly groaned. “Aunt Ruuuth.” 

Ruth shrugged. “I’m just saying. Your bubbe’s not getting any younger, and I’m sure she’d love to see some of her grandchildren with kids of their own.” 

“How about we, uh, get off of that subject,” Aly said, her cheeks burning. “That’s up to this one, after all,” she said, patting Vince on the arm. Vince ducked his head, understanding the grip of Aly’s hand on his arm as I love this woman but I swear to God if you don’t get me out of here I think I might combust.

He smiled apologetically to the older woman, feigning a glance at his watch. “The ceremony was amazing, Ruth, but I think I’ll have to be taking Aly home now. We’ve got early breakfast plans tomorrow and I’m sure you know how this one gets when she doesn’t get a full night of sleep.” Aly squeezed his hand in appreciation. 

“Of course,” Ruth said, smiling at the pair. She winked as they turned towards the door. “But think about it.” 

Aly ran her hand through her hair as soon as they turned the corner into the dirt parking lot. “Thanks for that, Vin. We don’t have breakfast plans, though?” 

Vince shrugged, an impish smile on his face. “Guess we do now.”

October

“I bought that tea you like,” Vince said from his spot on the couch. “I didn’t want you to be over here while you’re looking after Henry and run out.” Henry was Vince’s rottweiler, a rambunctious eleven month old that he had adopted at the middle of last season. 

Aly smiled as she opened the cupboard, seeing her prized brand of Irish Breakfast next to his favorite type of coffee. “Thanks for that, Vin.” 

He shrugged as the corner of his mouth twitched. “Don’t mention it.” 

The Blues were about to leave for their first real road trip of the year, and it was an unspoken agreement by this time in their relationship that Aly would stay over at his apartment while he was away. Early on in the relationship, she’d just stop by a few times a week to water his plants, and then he got a few fish, and then Henry came along. It didn’t take much convincing from Vince for Aly to agree to look after them; Henry loved her almost as much as he did Vince, and getting to see him before and after school helped to curb some of the loneliness she felt in Vince’s absence. 

She turned down the hallway, taking her bag into his bedroom. He had a guest room that would have been just as convenient to stay in, but she had grown used to the feel of his sheets and liked having the ensuite bathroom. Plus, she had already not-so-subtly taken over one of the drawers in his dresser. Her bag had the jeans, button downs, and blouses she’d need for work — her school mostly adhered to a smart casual dress code, plus she was an art teacher — but there were plenty of sleep shirts, underwear, and leggings in the dresser. If push came to shove, she also wasn’t above stealing Vince’s old sweatshirts. He always said she looked better in them anyways. 

Even when Vince was back in town, she slept over enough for it to make sense for her to have a space of her own; it just wasn’t practical for her to have to drive fifteen minutes to her apartment and back again just to grab a shirt if she wanted to spend the night after a movie date ran long. They hadn’t broached the conversation of moving in together yet, though. It was something that had crossed Aly’s mind, and if she knew Vince as well as she thought she did, he had thought about it too. But she wasn’t in a hurry to break her lease and he hadn’t said anything about it, so she had decided to let sleeping dogs lie. 

She tucked her bag into the corner of his closet, padding into the bathroom and closing the door. She cursed herself as she pulled down her shorts, realizing that her period had started and, conveniently, her purse was out in the living room. Biting her lip, Aly decided to rummage around in the vanity, praying to God that she’d left something from the last time. It wasn’t like she thought Vince would be weird about it if she asked him to bring her something from her purse; he never had been before, even when she had bled through a pair of his sweats one night staying over. “Not a big deal,” he had said, shrugging and tossing them in the washing machine. “I needed to do laundry anyway.” But she’d rather not ask if she didn’t have to. She crossed her fingers as she pulled out the last drawer, her head turning to the side in confusion as she saw an unopened box of tampons. Her eyes softened in realization. He had bought them without her ever having to ask. 

January 

It was bye week for the Blues, which meant everyone who hadn’t been picked for the All Star Team suddenly had an extra week in the middle of the season and nothing to do to fill it. Or, rather, had a week in the middle of the season and had to find something to do to fill it. In Vince and Aly’s case, that something turned out to be a trip to the Bahamas with some of his teammates and their wives. It had been a no-brainer for him to invite Aly; everyone else was bringing their partners and Vince knew she had a few vacation days saved up from work. They had been planning it for months, Aly having requested the time off as soon as she was able, and had blissfully traded in the chilly winters of Missouri for a balmy week on the shores of Nassau.

Vince had wanted to go to Iceland originally, half to do with the hiking and half to do with the ponies he saw in a National Geographic article as a kid, but one Google search from Sammy led them to the unfortunate realization that being so far north, there were only about six hours of daylight each day and the temperature topped out in the mid 30s. Vince looked a little deflated when he read the forecast. “Don’t worry,” Aly had said, squeezing his arm in reassurance. “We can go in June, after school lets out and before you head home for the summer. I’ve heard amazing things about their hot springs.” Sammy wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Aly hit his shoulder. 

But the Bahamas were proving to be one of the most beautiful places she had ever been. “Better than home?” he asked as they lay stretched out on the sand while they watched the sun dip below the horizon. 

She scrunched her nose at him. “Unfair comparison. St. Louis is hovering around freezing and perpetually covered in a layer of slush this time of year. And, to be fair, it’s an endearing layer of slush and I love it. But right now I think I’d rather be where it’s 75º and sunny and I can lay outside looking hot as hell in a bikini without worrying about freezing my tits off.” 

Vince choked on his rum punch. “Worried about that, are you?” 

Aly shrugged. “I’d rather deal with a sunburn. Which, speaking of,” she glanced over at Vince, “you’re looking a little red. Don’t worry, though. I’ve got as much aloe vera as I could pack in a single quart bag. Would have tried to sneak in a whole bottle, but didn’t want the feds after me.” 

Vince laughed, a whole body laugh that all but consumed him for a few moments, before pulling Aly in to rest against his chest. “I’m really happy you came, Aly. You know that, right?” 

“Why wouldn’t I? All-expenses paid trip to the Carribean with you and our friends, getting to hang out on the beach all day and drink cocktails without having to worry about driving home after?” 

Vince gasped in mock offense, the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her waist coming to clench at his heart. “You’re killing me here, Aly! You mean to tell me this whole time you’ve only been using me for my money? I expected more from you.” 

“Not just your money, Vin,” she giggled, settling into his touch. “I tried to pay for my share of the expenses, you wouldn’t have it. But seriously, I do really love it here. It’s gorgeous, and so peaceful, and there’s really not anything I think we could do to make it better. I love you, Vince Dunn.” 

“I love you too, Aly Kalinski.” 

April 

“One sec, I’ve got to go grab something,” Vince said, smiling at Aly as he pushed his chair back from the table. It was the day after he had come home from a two week road trip, and he had invited her over for dinner, told her to dress nice, and made what actually turned out to be a very respectable dinner of ravioli and roasted vegetables. 

She nodded as her heart started to pound faster and faster, coming to a peak when she thought her chest was going to burst as Vince returned from the bedroom, turning a blue velvet box over in his hands. “I know it might seem unexpected, but I saw this the other day while I was downtown with Sammy and I don’t know, just somehow knew you were meant to have it. Knew it was meant to be yours. Something I hope you’ll see as a sign of how much I love and care about you and how even though we might not always physically be together, you’re the person I trust most in this life.” 

He slid the box across the table to Aly, who opened it with shaking hands. Inside was a silver necklace with a pendant of an olive tree on it. It was absolutely gorgeous — and Vince was right, very her — but it was not what she had been expecting.

Aly snorted, burying her face into her hands. “Oh my God, I’m going to have to call my mom.” 

Vince was confused. “Why?” 

Aly rolled her eyes. “I told her I was coming over here for dinner and you told me to dress nice. She thought you were going to propose.” 

“Propose?” Vince asked, dumbfounded. “Why would I propose?” 

She tried to wave him off, but Vince could see the shimmer of hurt behind her eyes. “I mean, we’ve been together for almost two years. It wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility.”

“Together?” He looked over at her. “For two years?” 

“Yeah?” she said slowly, thinking he had forgotten their anniversary. “Come June, two years.” 

Vince swallowed hard as it began to dawn on him, looking down at his hands. “Together...She thinks we’ve been together for,” he looked up at the ceiling, “twenty-one months.” 

“You keep repeating that word, babe. Together. What’s confusing about it?” Aly said, giving him a weird look.  

God, how was he supposed to tell her? “I didn’t know we were together. Are together? Let alone that your mom was expecting a proposal.” 

Aly’s blood ran cold. “Let me get this straight,” she said, pausing. “You didn’t know we’re together? What did you think we’ve been doing for almost two years?” 

“Being really good friends?” 

She shook her head. “Why did you tell me to dress up when I came over, then? Why did you make dinner?”

He fixed his eyes on a chip in the coffee table. “I knew you’d been having a rough week and I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“What about the vacation?” She questioned.

He shrugged helplessly. “Everyone else was going in couples, and you’re my best friend down here regardless.” 

“Me coming to all the games? Sitting up in the box?” 

“You’ve become friends with all the WAGs, and I love having you there to support me,” he tried. 

“The sex?” Aly asked incredulously. 

Vince winced. Okay, that  one was a little harder to explain away. “I just always thought that we were both single, both hot, both too busy to get into relationships. Each other’s best options.” 

God, Aly felt like a fucking fool. She felt like she’d been played, because in a weird, sort of twisted way, she had. “You said you thought it was because we’re both too busy to be in relationships now. But Vince, I know you have no think energy out your ears, but I need you to concentrate for a minute. Think about most couples you know. They get together a few times a week if they don’t live together. We do that.” He nodded. 

“They have a drawer or a part of a closet at each other’s places, they look after each other’s plants and dogs when they’re out of town. We do that. They become friends with each other’s friends, they visit each other’s families, they take weekend trips together and fly to the Bahamas with friends when they have a week off. We did that.” She looked up at him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “They dance around in the kitchen together and make love and go to the zoo at least once a month because I love seeing the otters. They comfort each other when they’re at their worst, encourage each other at their best. You said you didn’t have time for a relationship, but you didn’t realize that that’s what we’ve been doing, Vince.” 

Now it was Vince’s turn to be struck speechless. Aly wasn’t meeting his eyes. And honestly, he couldn’t blame her. He turned to look at her, but she had stood up abruptly from the couch, pacing nervously as she slowly made her way to the door. “I, uh, I think I should go,” she said, looking down at her hands. 

Vince stood up, taking a half step towards her before deciding that it was best to give her space. “No, Aly, you don’t have to go. We can talk. I think —”

“No, I think. I think you don’t feel the same way, and I’ve been misreading things for two years. And that’s fine, I can’t force you to fabricate feelings that aren’t there, so um. I’ll go,” Aly said, shaking her head stiffly. She opened the door and shut it, and Vince was suddenly stuck in the loudest silence he’d ever heard. It was like he couldn’t move for a minute, as if all of his muscles were paralyzed, and then he came back to reality. Aly had only been gone for maybe a minute at most, but it felt like an hour. 

Vince bolted out of the door, not even bothering to lock it, running straight past the elevator. Stairs would be quicker. He caught her just as she was exiting the front door, one of her hands coming up to wipe a stray tear off her cheek. “Aly!” Vince called. She hesitated for a moment but kept walking. Vince ran across the lobby, not even caring about his complete lack of shoes. “Aly! Wait up, please.” 

She turned around, eyes watering, and sighed, walking over towards one of the chairs with a defeated look on her face. She didn’t even sit down, just perched on the arm like she wasn’t quite comfortable with actually settling in, like she needed to be able to up and leave at any given moment. “Please, Vince. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be. I’m not mad at you for not feeling the same way, it wouldn’t be fair of me and people can’t control their feelings, but I feel like a fucking idiot right now. Like I spent so long misreading all sorts of signs and signals and words —”

“What if you didn’t?” Vince asked breathlessly. 

Aly looked startled. “What do you mean?”

“What if you didn’t misread anything, Aly? What if you didn’t have to be mad at me for not feeling the same way, because I do?”

Aly sunk into the chair, her eyes meeting his for the first time since she had left his apartment. “Then why...Why did you not say anything? How did you not know we were in a relationship?”

Vince ran a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. “Because I thought that’s all you were going to give me. And if that was it, that was enough for me,” he smiled sadly. “I thought everything, the sex and the wedding and the Bahamas, was just me being a good friend and you needing a stress relief and someone who’d always be in your corner. I never knew this was supposed to be a relationship. I didn’t think you wanted anything serious. And I had resigned myself to that, come to terms with only getting stolen kisses on late nights and early-morning coffee runs before you had to head to school. If I only got you halfway, I was okay with it, because I love you and that was better than nothing.” 

“You what?” Aly’s breath caught in her throat. 

“I love you,” Vince said. It was the easiest thing he had ever admitted. Because it was true. 

He had told her he loved her before, but as Aly searched his face, she could tell that he meant it in a different way. In the way she always wanted him to. “You love me?” she asked, voice cracking. 

Vince nodded. “I do. I’m in love with you. And you don’t know how good that feels to admit.”

Aly gave an airy laugh, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear before Vince had a chance to get it for her. “I think I might.”

“I’ve just got one question, though,” Vince asked. 

“Which is?” 

He cracked a smile. “You’re not going to make us change our anniversary date, are you? It would be pretty weird to explain to everyone and I really don’t want Aunt Ruth to find out and show up at my door to chase me around with a chainsaw.”

Aly giggled, leaning over and placing an exhilarated kiss against his lips. “No.”

[transformers-fan-continuities]

Spotlight: Rise of the Radiotrons

Here it is folks, the first fan canon spotlight, showcasing Rise of the Radiotrons created by sleeveev! You can find this over at @riseoftheradiotrons and also on AO3! This is a long post, fair warning.

Q) Give us a run down of your cont! What's it about, what's it called, what's it like?

the cont, despite being called Rise of the Radiotrons, revolves around five main groups of characters, and the mystery that accidentally intertwines all of them. a lot of false identities, undiscovered pasts, mystery that you need to read all the way through to really uncover. it also takes place during the attrition phase of the Autobot-Decepticon war, and Megatron and Optimus are... dead. but... weren't they made immortal by the Eternal Surge? where are they?

Q) What characters take the lead here? Any personal favorites?

characters that take the lead? hoo, boy, there's a lot. and be warned, this is OC-heavy. Wavecrash, Blackarachnia, Sparkplug, Pascal, and Ness make up the Earth detective team, the first to investigate the Radiotrons: Nanotube, Quicksilver, Greenscreen, and [REDACTED] (that is not their name, you will learn it later!).

Starscream, Moonkiller, and Pharma investigate a series of rust-related murders, later with the help of Eclipse and Terraform. the two they investigate? two hulking beings that carry a rust of sheer destruction of anything metal, Turbulence and someone known only as The Crimson Doctor. the third part is mostly with just a few characters. Dial-Up and Absolute Zero are in a cat-and-mouse chase, Dial-Up attempting to capture Absolute Zero and return him to the prison he escaped from. other 'bots come into this story, including Pylon, Airachnid, Suture, and Cyclonus, but they are not the main focus.

Turbulence.  this motherfucker. this moldy bitch.

my personal favorites? i love Sparkplug, i love my little gaming PC gal. The Crimson Doctor has also grown on me quite a bit. i'm gonna make fat robots and you can't stop me.

Sparkplug above, Crimson Doctor (Crim) below

Q) I love how he isn’t crimson at all.

oh you'll learn why he's crimson

Q) Ominous! Is there a bigger point to this, like a theme or some catharsis? Or is it just fluffy fun?

a bigger point to this? well, i have quite my fair share of trauma for being in a military family - being on the home front of a war i never even learned about until i was like 12. i wanted to show the horrors of attrition above all, because attrition is the part of war that everyone seems to forget, but is possibly the most dangerous part of it. everyone's killing each other over resources, dying of preventable diseases, resources are spread thin among soldiers and thinner among civilians. it also lets new, perhaps worse groups arise from the dust.

war was never about who was right. it was about who could live longer. and RotR, with its rampant killings that people can't even begin to investigate until their leaders are toppled from their thrones and complete anarchy reigns among military sites, is a testament to that.

war was the cause for part of the namesake of the Radiotrons themselves - the Great Radiation Crisis. war was where everything went wrong

Q) How long have you been working on it?

now, for the slightly less dark - it varies from character to character! while the official plot of RotR was established on August 25 this year, some 'bots go much further back - Pascal's earliest concepts were made on May 8, Nanotube's were made on April 25, and The Crimson Doctor's roots go as far back as a character called The Crimson-Eyed Doctor, a character created on Dec 11, 2019 (happy belated birthday, Crim!).

Q) You’re very meticulous with your dates!

i lose track of all time otherwise

Q) Give us a behind-the-scenes look! Show us a secret ;))

behind the scenes.

this is a mystery cont.

THERE'S A LOT BEHIND THE SCENES.

i will start with some no-context spoilers, here.

and, now for something a bit more genuinely secret.

whether this is a crimson doctor or a red herring, you decide.

Q) Where did you draw inspiration from? What canons, what other fiction, what parts of real life?

this varies from subtle to shameless.

my cont would fit best in an comic format, so it makes sense that i was inspired by IDW - and that it was my entry into the TF fandom! there is also some TFA bits in there, but the majority of it is personal robot worldbuilding, with a couple sprinkles of headcanons and OCs taken from Afterburn, a cont made by a longtime friend of mine.

other fiction i took inspiration from is mostly in the character designs. Blackarachnia was loosely inspired by Tawna from Crash Bandicoot 4: It's About Time (you went through such a good revamp sweetie. neon lesbian.). if you can't tell that Turbulence took inspiration from Cioccolata from JJBA: Golden Wind, i don't know what to tell you. Crim took less inspiration from a character and more from a trope - the "ever-obedient villain subordinate". i just sucked all of the homoeroticism out of it, and also decided to give him more of a self than just someone who serves the villain.

here's Tawna (specifically Crash Bandicoot 4), one of the big inspirations for Blackarachnia's design! we don't talk about your past sweetie.

and Blackarachnia headshot to compare, because her fullbody is still in progress.

i am sharing this specific image of cio, one of turb's inspos, because i BASED A TURB PIECE OFF OF IT.

real life? RADIATION, RADIATION. i have radiation and radioactive things and the PERIODIC TABLE as a special interest and it SHOWS. it's all radiation. even the names. Quicksilver comes from mercury, Starborn comes from all elements being created from stars in space, Nanotube comes from carbon nanotubes, and [REDACTED] comes from... well, you don't know yet. there's also the whole attrition war thing, for real life inspiration, too.

Q) Show off something you're really proud of, a particular favorite part of your cont.

this piece of Eclipse and Turbulence('s hand), for one

(the image is at the end of the post under a readmore, as it contains eye trauma, eye touching, and roboblood)

and another thing i am particularly proud of are all my worldbuilding posts! they look like textbook entries kinda but i really really love em. here's one of them, though there are many more on the blog!

lastly, my favorite character introduction post. if you know Afterburn, you may be pleasantly surprised seeing this.

Q) Ah, that guy.

fun fact about RotR Absolute Zero! his color palette is taken from a diagram of a human heart. here is the motherfucker in question,

Q) What other fan canons do you love and why? Would you like to see them interviewed?

Afterburn. my best friend made this i can't just NOT advertise it. go look at it there's murderers and there's an OC that's actually very inspired by not one but two of my creations (the original OC he was a fanformer of, and his altmode - I'd had thoughts of various greenhouse 'bots like that). @transformersafterburn​. please don't simp for Abzero. or maybe do. he's a better option than Turbulence.

Mirror Mirror. found at @transformers-mirror-mirror​, it's got so many epic character designs and realistically sized altmodes despite not having realistically sized altmodes this makes me go happy flappy and is also inspiring a future project of mine, also Shattered Glass!

NEW PRIMES OF CYBERTRON. RITO I LOVE YOUR CONT SO MUCH. i summed it up in "transformers ungunned" but THERE IS MUCH MORE GO CHECK IT OUT AFTER YOU FINISH READING THIS INTERVIEW @thenamesblurrito​

Q) [insert flattered keysmashing from me, creator of New Primes of Cybertron, otherwise known as TF:SNAP]

Thank you very much veev! Everyone go check out Rise of the Radiotrons! Stay tuned for next week, when we’ll get to see some Shattered Glass...

(aforementioned image under the cut, warning for eye trauma, eye touching, and roboblood)

[my-arlington-academia]

Neha happy birthday fanfic 👗👒💗

This is a short one! About 1k words this time (while it's usually 2k) This one turned out to be really cute, a bit mushy at the end but cute nonetheless! I guess it's because of the recent events in the game but I really wanted to write a one-on-one fic with Neha and Scholar. I want Neha to be happy again 😭 Please give her a break. (On a side note: Scholar is a she again in this one!) Also, don't hesitate to leave keysmashes or something, honestly it's a bit sad when I write something and it doesn't get any comments. (I mean, that's the case for everyone. Whether it's a fic or art or something else.) Though it's totally fine if you just leave a like, still appreciated 👍Thank you very much! 💖

--------------------------------------

This is it. It was the end of the school year, everyone would leave tomorrow and Arlington would be empty again during 2 months until September comes again. Everyone spent that day packing their belongings and saying goodbye to their friends. Everyone including Neha who was heading to the town. She was slowly walking through the many streets she became used to for the past 10 months. Everything looked the same and yet, Neha felt really nostalgic. She wouldn't see this landscape for only 2 months. Logically speaking it's really not a big deal, 2 months goes by quick. However, when they'll receive their diplomas, in a year this exact day will be the last time she'll see this town. Neha was trying really hard to enjoy the scenery but her eyes started getting moist...

That's when a voice called out to her.

"Neha...? Crying again?"

Neha tried to dry her tears in a hurry. She already knew who that person was without even looking.

"Scholar... How come you always find me in my weak moments? I feel like anytime I start crying you're the first one to come running to my side... Had I not known any better, I would think that you're stalking me."

Scholar smiled in an almost devious way and with the sleeves of her jacket, wiped off the last droplet on Neha's cheek.

"Well, I was surprised too you know! When I first met you I would've never thought that you would be the person I'll see crying the most this year... You looked so stoic but turns out you're just a big crybaby."

Neha simulated a fake-offended look and rolled her eyes in amusement. Clearly, she did cry a lot this year, much more than any of their other friends at least, but looking back... Everyone probably cried at least once in the past 10 months. It's like Arlington gave all of them their "tough moment" of the year as a present. Always pushing its students to the limit, Arlington was a difficult place to get in and to stay in. Neha and Scholar understood that more than anyone else since they had to be enrolled through a scholarship. But they also both knew that they'll recall this year for the rest of their lives. Especially Neha, she was already thinking far into the future, seeing herself as an accomplished designer and thinking of the "good old days" while drinking wine with her closest friends.

"Can you blame me though? My first year in Arlington was already something but this year in particular was... crazy to say the least. But well..."

Neha averted her eyes in embarrassement and continued.

"...It is true that I cry a lot when I'm alone. Which comes out as surprising for many since I always look so emotionless."

Scholar laughed slightly, not really understanding if Neha was being 100% serious or telling a joke. Or both.

"Aww. Come on now! You're not emotionless, just really... reserved. You don't want to look weak so you always try to stay strong in front of others and that's perfectly normal: everyone does the same Neha."

Scholar remembered the first time she saw Neha having a hard time. It was during the departments competition, she was panicking and looked completely lost. And yet, when she was spotted in her moment of weakness she quickly apologized and even said that she was "wasting Scholar's time."

Neha immediately noticed the soft look in Scholar's eyes and cringed.

"Whatever it is you're thinking about, please forget it right now. And if you can't forget it then at least never think of it again..."

Scholar laughed loudly this time, seeing how embarrassed Neha looked she couldn't help herself. At this exact moment, the both of them understood what the other one was thinking without much trouble. It's funny how Scholar didn't even believe that this would be possible. Neha's mind was a complete mystery when they first met and as if that wasn't enough, she wasn't the type to talk a lot either.

But in any case, Scholar didn't come here without a purpose.

"Anyway, Neha. Don't freak out but you were kinda right earlier. I did follow you here."

Neha's eyes shot wide open.

"Uhh... Excuse me? Are you admitting that you're stalking me or...?"

Scholar grinned and Neha finally noticed that all this time she was holding something really carefully under her arm.

"Not exactly. I just thought that it was a waste."

"A waste...? Scholar, what are you talking about?"

Scholar extended her arms towards Neha, she was holding two sketchbooks. Neha naturally took them, understanding that those were gifts.

"It's your birthday in a week, isn't it? We should've celebrated it a day after Ellie's! Just imagine: two birthday parties in a row! It's such a waste that we didn't... And well, sorry that I couldn't come up with a better gift but to be fair, I figured that they would definitely be useful to you during this summer vacation."

Scholar was secretly hoping that whenever Neha would use the sketchbooks, she would think about her thanks to them. Neha needed to buy about two new ones each month so hopefully those would be enough for all of July.

Neha longly stared at the sketchbooks in awe. It was simple yet thoughtful, honestly Neha didn't come to town only to look around the stores for the last time. She also came to buy new sketchbooks for her ride home to India. She was planning on sketching a few outfits on the road, being up in the sky above the clouds and lively cities gave her inspiration.

A small silence filled the air before Neha restarted the conversation.

"Thank you Scholar, those will be plenty. I'll use them for sure. And by the way..."

Neha shyly looked up towards Scholar's eyes. She was about to say something she's been meaning to for a few weeks now.

"...I don't have a crush on Karolina anymore."

Scholar blinked a few times in confusion, there was surely a motive in Neha's words. Something really obvious.

"Huh? Uh... Yeah?? Okay. I mean, that's cool. I guess sharing a room with her for a year made you tired of her or something? Hahaha..."

Scholar was trying incredibly hard not to strike a victory pose, it had been some time now that she had feelings for Neha. However at the same time she was also aware of Neha's feelings towards Karolina which made their relationship a little bit awkward. But Neha's statement just now made it all clear. Scholar would be an idiot if she didn't understand what it meant. Neha just announced that she's open now in a not-so-subtle way. Still appreciated though.

"Scholar... Aren't you going to say something else?"

Neha was right. Maybe it was stupid to say this just one day before everyone would go their separate ways for a while, but at the same time, waiting for September was a no-go. Scholar had already waited long enough for this and screw it if the timing was awkward.

The wind blew strongly, making a bunch of leafs twirl in a circle around the both of them. It was as if they were getting wrapped up in their own little world. Scholar gulped and cleared her mind, in a slightly dramatic but strong voice she declared: I love you!

Neha smiled and answered: Yeah, me too.

--------------------------------------

Somewhere in a parallel world...

Scholar: I love you!

Neha: Yeah, me too. I love myself, I'm so awesome. Glad you noticed!

Okay sorry.

On a more serious note: I warned you! Told you it would be mushy! (Well it was still fairly cute I think...) This really gave off an "end of season" vibe, didn't it? The only thing I regret is that there wasn't enough funny dialogue, I love writing silly stuff... This is fine too though! I hope.

Well anyways, thank you for reading! 💗💖

[kylesjiang]

hey!! my name is raven. i’m currently a junior (going 21 in a few months!!) taking a pre-med course and i like to write in my spare time :꒰◍•ᴗ•◍꒱: i’m also really nervous to be interacting with everyone because i am an awkward bean and my social prowess is practically nonexistent. also i keysmash when i can’t think of what to say akjdhskfalks 

anyway, here’s kyle  ‧₊˚✩彡

( zheng shuang, cis female, she/her ). hey, isn’t that [ KYLE JIANG / JIANG YING YUE ] walking down bennington street? i think the [ 25 ] year old [ OWNER OF ASIAN BREW ] is from [ SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS ]**. i’ve heard some rumors down at ginger’s, saying that they're [ SENSITIVE & OBSESSIVE ], but then again they’re known to be [ GENEROUS & LOYAL ].  either way, they seem to be interesting, hope they’ll stick around.

stats

full name: jiang ying yue 

date of birth: october 13, 1994 (libra)

height: 5′5 (i wish i’m at least this tall irl)

moral alignment: true neutral

mbit: infp

hogwarts house: hufflepuff

backstory

ying yue’s grandparents were opportunists. 

while the rest of the world stared frozen at the devastation left by the second world war, her grandparents took one short look and turned away. with a family to support, “mourning,” her grandfather had said, “won’t bring any food to your table”- a proverb proven to be true in a society as fast-paced as america. 

the jiang empire started with a single coal-fire boiler in springfield, illinois. by 1965, the family had risen from a lower-working class to an upper-middle class, seemingly assimilating with the euro-americans. presently, the jiangs own the largest utility in illinois, providing springfield and its neighboring cities with electric power. 

thus, ying yue’s birth was highly celebrated. 

she was nothing short of a princess. mild-mannered ying yue was sheltered and kept in a seemingly enclosed space by her overprotective parents. she was born in an environment where obedience and perfection were to be expected. 

(they were jiangs, after all. and no amount of cultural assimilation will change the fact that they are first and foremost full-blooded chinese.)

even after the birth of her younger brother, zhi shu, ying yue was to take over the family business as the first-born. and for the longest time, that’s the only thing she knew. she didn’t have dreams of her own, never even thought she was allowed to have one- perfectly fine with living as jiang ying yue. 

meeting her first boyfriend in highschool was a game-changer. 

her relationship was never public. it was a relationship filled with late-night texts and sneaky pecks in an empty hallway, of the subtle brushing of hands, and lingering gazes. even when she feels her heart brimming with love, threatening to spill over, she can never tell her parents about zach. 

because zach, with his light brown eyes and even lighter hair, was every bit an american. he was someone her parents will never want her to be with. but zach, sweet and ever-patient zach, simply nods and smiles in a way that makes her wish she wasn’t jiang ying yue. 

in a way, zach (because all good things happen with zach) made her wish come true. 

because through zach, kyle was born.

it wasn’t as highly celebrated as ying yue’s birth, but kyle wouldn’t have it any other way. because kyle, kyle has options, has freedom- freedom to dream and to simply be. 

and dream she did. 

she talked to zach about how she dreams to be in new york, to own her own cafe. She talks about the future- “a studio apartment big enough for the two of us, maybe it’s even possible to get one with a balcony!” 

zach’s eyes would crinkle as he laughs, claiming that they should at least worry about college first, and kyle would stop and smile at him, lacing their fingers together. 

it took a lot of convincing, a lot of tears, and talks, but her parents ultimately allowed her to be in new york. she felt a bit selfish leaving everything to her brother’s hands, but she’s finally living her dreams.

her first two years in college were the best time of her life. she can hold zach’s hand in public now, kiss him when she feels like it, sleep curled up in his arms.

but, as they said, all good things must come to an end.

and end it they did. 

despite that, ying yue still likes living as kyle.

she wakes up to the sun shyly peeking through her sheer curtains, drink her steaming tea on an open balcony, walk through the crowded streets of nyc, own a cafe that’s doing fairly well. 

isn't that everything she wanted?

and if she finds herself awake at night, thinking about what could have been with her first love, imagining every scenario where their paths may one day cross again, wishing to see him smile at her for one last time,

well, that’s a secret shared between her and her pillow.

headcanons

no one has ever seen her raise her voice or act rude besides that one guy in college who called her by her given name. 

yes, she hates being called ying yue

she’s staying at the same modest apartment she chose with zach before they broke up

someone: is in a relationship, or with dubious morality (highkey asshole) kyle: is this my true love

aside from aster, she never had any girl friends because they claimed “her smile is too fake, and her voice is too soft to be anything but forced”

she’s very close with her little brother, zhi shu (andrew)

she’s a very sensitive and a crybabie- lich rally will cry when angry, happy, frustrated 

on their first official date as a couple, she begged zach to take her to mcdonalds (a day of enlightenment)

[certified-soft-si-content]

🎫 here’s a gush pass ^^ feel free to gush about whichever f/o you want, however much you want, then send this ask to 3 other selfshippers

Aaaaaahhh thank you so much for the ask anon! I'm going to gush about Roy and Riza for this one!

God... where do I even start? I got into FMA really late - only a few months ago - and I'd only seen a few episodes before that, but I knew I'd like Riza and thought 'yeah, she'll probably be an F/O' (which wasn't exactly a shock - attractive woman + guns, I'm instantly weak).

And I mean... I wasn't wrong.

But as I was watching FMAB and falling for Riza (still expecting her to be a more casual F/O at this point), I realised I really liked Roy, too. And then I got to a moment of him being a complete dork, and I was gone. The polyship was born.

Since then, I've only fallen harder and harder for them since, and now they're my main F/O's!

There's just so much about them to love - two people who have done atrocious things, haunted by their pasts but refusing to feel sorry for themselves and instead dedicating their lives to bettering the world they live in so nothing like what they did ever happens again? Two people who know they're not good, who know they may never be able to be 'good' because of what they've done - but it doesn't stop them in their goals, which is what's so good about them.

Not to mention the love that they have for each other. It's so obvious yet so subtle - there in the way they regard each other, the nonverbal communication between them, the way they'll always have each others' backs. They're both just so in love - and I'm in love with them, and they love me! 🥰🥰

They can both be so soft it makes me want to cry - Riza placing her jacket over Ed's shoulders, tending to Lan Fan during her surgery, her little gasp of "I was getting worried!" Before resuming her professionalism; Roy knowing after five seconds on a phone call to Riza that something's wrong, his "I've done it again. I've hurt you. How foolish can one man be?" GAHHHH I just - THESE TWO DO THINGS TO MY HEART AND IT HURTS IN THE BEST WAY

Then there's how straight up badass they can be. Roy using his flame alchemy is, uh... hot (hehehe), and then he has his little smirks that make me... so, so weak. And Riza. Riza. She's so good with a gun, and so skilled and intelligent during any fight - honestly that woman could do whatever she wants to me and I would thank her.

And they're just so... look at them. Every inch of them is just... sjskdkdkfkgkgkk. This is where I descend from cognitive thought into just keysmashes because how else do I describe how they make me feel? My heart physically aches with how much I love them. I have 1467 images of them saved in a folder in my gallery right now, and that number is only going to grow - I just. I love them so much. They're so good and I just

aAJDJSJSJJDSKKSKSKSKSKDKD I want nothing more than to be held by both of them 🥺🥺🥺

[homemade-ghosts]

What They’ll Grow Up To Be: Andi Mack Edition

Andi: High School Art Teacher; her students always ask her where she gets her outfits; sometimes she calls Jonah if she’s concerned about a kid in her class and worried the school isn’t doing enough to help them. 

Cyrus: Novelist & Director; has an undergrad degree in psychology (and will try to diagnose you if you let him...he means well). Went to film school at USC; used to work as a writer on The Tonight Show before his directorial debut.

Buffy: Doctor, Sports Medicine; originally a math major, she went to college on an athletic scholarship and graduated pre-med, top of her class. Her practice is near Marty’s office, they carpool to work most days. She makes everyone, except Cyrus and Andi, call her “Dr. Driscoll.” Whenever Marty comes to the hospital for a consultation the nurses tell Buffy “your husband is here,” she rolls her eyes but she secretly likes it. She never misses the premiere of a single Goodman feature film.

Jonah: Social Worker; he knows what it feels like to be a kid trapped in their own emotions; really just wants to help. His old band had a one hit wonder awhile back, he still plays with them on the weekends. He tries to convince TJ to join them on keyboard every time they see each other. 

TJ: History Professor; will not join Jonah’s band; calls it a ‘boyband’ every time they see each other--but turns the volume way up every time the band’s song comes on the radio. Has a secret twitter filled with all the stupid stuff his students say; raps for the class all the time; texts them to Cyrus beforehand to make sure they’re good. Cyrus always sends back a keysmash and like ten crying-laughing emojis. TJ cries every time he watches any of Cyrus’s movies, even if they’re not sad. He’s just so proud of him.

Marty: Physical Therapist; carpools to work with Buffy; everyone at his work calls him “Mr. Driscoll,” he rolls his eyes, but he secretly likes it. He goes to the gym every morning and coaches his niece’s basketball team in his free time

Walker: Artist & Photographer; in the process of opening his own gallery in Brooklyn, after filming a successful special on contemporary art for PBS; travels a lot. He used to photograph weddings to make ends meet, sometimes he still does just because he loves love.

Amber: Lawyer; made viral make-up tutorial videos on YouTube to put herself through law school; loves a good power suit; wins every game night and isn’t subtle about gloating when she does. Her favorite time of the day is happy hour. Her nickname around the office is “eyebrows,” which she later learned is a compliment.

Iris: Family Therapist; stays out of all of her friend’s drama; only gives advice when she’s asked for it. She loves her job but her favorite thing in the whole world is going home to her family at the end of a long day. 

Gus: Computer Programmer; works for some giant tech conglomerate; could buy almost anything he wants but doesn’t. Instead, he just has a very large collection of bow ties.

Reed: Actor; flirts with anything that moves; all of his guns are prop guns now.

Lester: No one really knows. Someone heard he got arrested for showing a police officer a bag of illegal stuff and asking “is any of this illegal?” Another person said he owns a fruit stand somewhere off I-5. The last person I asked just said “that’s classified” and drove off in a black SUV with tinted windows. 

[littlecasiosounds]

yknow, i always knew thought there was some sort of weird dichotomy between millennial keysmashes and gen z keysmashes that’s somehow extremely subtle and yet EXTREMELY different

in 2010-2011, people who were in their teens and early 20s had keysmashes that went something along the lines of “dfkjsfkjk”, “asdklsdjf,” “lfkdgsjkfa;” whereas teens/people in their early 20s now say things more like “xvbmncvnmxcxcn,,” “weiurytwiuefdrhs, “lasfjhfashshh” though sometimes i see the former group using these kinds of keysmashes too)

like, am i the only one who notices this??? what happened here? i’m no linguist but it kind of feels like keysmashing has evolved a little bit in the past several years.

[yeehawfolk]

I once had a "friend" that would rb a lot of posts that were aro/acephobic, but in a subtle sort of way, so if you noticed there was plausible deniability one day I pointed out to them that a LOT of these posts were aphobia in disguise, and they tried to play it cool and say "oh, it was an accident". But when I tried to send them a post with a few different examples of how to spot them and avoid them, they said "no offense but I don't really care abt ace discourse [keysmash]". Naturally I was like wtf dude, I'm ace and your friend, you should care whether something you post is punching down on my identity.

The big mistake was trying to get them to understand by asking if they would say the same about trans folks. If they saw a trans person being treated like ace people are online, wouldn't you be upset?

Oh boy. For some reason this flipped a switch in them and they lost it on me. Sending me messages like "DID ACES THROW THE FIRST BRICK AT STONEWALL, CAS?"

This culminated into a months long harassment campaign from them and their friends where they continually sent me anons and messages demanding I apologize and own up to "what I did". Among other things, such as posting memes with a message I sent them a while back about how my ace ID is inextricably tied to my trans ID, misgendering me and comparing me to a female HunterXHunter character, making fun of my chosen name, and posting private messages I had sent them about my queerness. They and their friends even followed me onto TWITTER, which I didn't really use except for video game updates. I even tried changing my URL several times, but they still kept on until I had to delete my old blog. This is technically my second Tumblr I've ever had.

I found out later that they had ALSO lied about their age to me, so I THEN had to worry about if anything would come of the fact we had talked NSFW HCs. Absolutely insane time of my online experience.

Its so fucked up that the ace community experienced so much (and I don't use this lightly) trauma at the hands of other lgbt people and no one fucking addresses it