#I was listening to my whole family thinks I’m gay by no burnham

[r0achezz]

Uhhh happy Valentine’s Day ig

*reblogs!!! >> likes*

[mystilotls]

I was listening to the song “My whole family thinks I’m gay” by Bo Burnham and now due to yhs whenever I listened to this song I think of Dom

when I listen to this song my brain goes directly to Dom, thank u anon for reminding me of this

[kaspbrak-tozier-reddie]

"Have you ever been to a birthday party for children/And one of the children won't stop screaming/...There's other people, you selfish asshole!" From Bo Burnham's song, for that quote thing? Also this is for Reddie. Thanks :)

Song: Art is Dead by Bo Burnham

Warnings: slight mentions of homophobia, other than that, just pure fluff.

Send quote/prompt and I’ll write a fic

——————————————————————

With Richie being a hotshot comedian now, his manager had decided it was now time to do a meet and greet. Richie not only now performs his own standup comedy shows but is on Saturday Night Live, does movies and tv shows. 

Having a rocky 2.5 years in the comedy industry, Richie’s new beginning seems promising, even Eddie is thrilled. After all, Eddie is the one that forced Richie to fire his writer and old manager due to homophobic jokes, not being able to come out thus shoving him back into the closest; and had jokes that were far too dry and tasteless that even Richie didn’t laugh. They made Stan’s jokes seem laughable now! So with the help of his boyfriend of 2 years, he and Eddie found a new manager.

“Excited for your debut M&G?” Scotty, Richie’s new manager, asks.

“Oh, heck yes!” Richie exclaims as he sets up his table. “Give me a sec.” Richie spots his boyfriend carrying a large bag that he immediately recognises as Eddie’s first aid bag. “Eds, we don’t need that babe.”

“Uh, yes, yes we do. I can’t get sick and neither can you!” Eddie replies placing the bag behind Richie’s chair. “Do you know how many germs are spread around here?”

“I -” Richie starts.

Richie can feel granddad’s wedding ring shift in his pocket, causing Richie to remember why he even has it in the first place. He carries it with him day in day out, ever since the couple’s 1st anniversary. Knowing that any day could be when he chooses to marry the man he’s been in love with since he was 10. 

“It’s a rhetorical question. Okay, long lines in a confide space, you will. Get. Sick.”

Eddie isn’t wrong, it takes only a couple people with a cold or flu to then infect hundreds more. Keeping a load up of hand-sanitizer on hand is important, he places it where it’s hidden but within Richie’s reach. The entire bag contains multiple bottles of water and fruits; as well as all those important tissues and general first aid kit that has been overly stocked with more bandages, band-aids, gauzes and alcohol wipes than it needs. 

But Richie isn’t nervous for the one on one meet and greet, it’s the actual panel where he’s speaking and Eddie refused to come up on the stage with him. He doesn’t know what he’s meant to do, sure he’s done interviews but it was one person, not hundreds. 

“Richie? You ready?” Scotty asks.

“Yeah.”

“Good, ‘cause it’s showtime.” Eddie stands off to the side and gives him the thumbs up and Richie looks everywhere but the stampede of fans coming in. All the other celebrities at the function are relaxed and getting ready but Richie is ready to puke instead of greeting the fans.

Maybe this was all a mistake, Richie thinks to himself. But he loves his fans, if it wasn’t for Eddie he would be on the list of most hated people around the world. Besides, Derry should be on that said list of places to not visit on account on its outdated teachings. 

His negative thoughts come to a halt as his first fan arrives at his station. It’s awkward, he has no idea what to say or do but nonetheless, he’s still sweet, awkward and charming. 

*

After 15 fans come to his table, he’s finally gotten the hang of it and that would also be 15 uses of the hand sanitizer thanks to his boyfriend’s need for hygiene and germaphobia. 

What Richie didn’t expect was his fans to be of a variety of ages, he’s seen kids as young as 12 come by with their parents in tow. Parents dragging their kids with them, the rare elderly citizens come by and not to mention a few whole families; we’re talking kids, parents and grandparents. Richie is blown away.

He sees a break and quickly looks to Eddie, who sits quietly behind the table out of sight. “Holy shit! This is insane!” Richie whispers, his mouth covered by his hands to not be seen as someone who talks to himself.

Eddie looks up from his book, “That’s great. Also, I was thinking that I come on stage with you.”

“That’s great,” Richie looks back briefly. “Oop, more customers.”

Richie can hear Eddie’s giggle and then it stops and a page flips. He accidentally bumps the ring in his pocket, causing him to jolt. Could this be it?

****

A couple of hours later, Richie finally sets up for the panel, the most important event of the day, according to his manager. “Are you sure Eds, I don’t want to seem like I’m forcing you,” Richie says as he gets hooked up to the sound system.

“I want to, the number of fans asking about me… I couldn’t. Also, don’t call me Eds,” Eddie responds and Richie signals for another mic and third chair is brought out to the stage.

There’s another panic attack bubbling in Richie’s throat and blood, he feels like he’s being smothered, he can feel his pulse around his body and hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears. He instinctively turns to look out at the crowd from behind the curtain and sure enough, there are, at least, 200 people. Every ticket for the panel was sold out, he remembers his manager said. Richie and Eddie are signalled out to the stage and manages to get to the chair without an issue and finally looks to the crowd. 

You can do this, he thinks to himself, I’ve got Eddie with me.

“So Richie, in your Netflix Special, you had stated that you are now writing your own material. Why the change?” The host asks; Richie had never really publically stated why the change but he guesses it’s time everyone knew.

“My old manager thought my jokes were too crass and wouldn’t appeal to anyone. He also claimed that self-deprecating or my gay sex jokes wouldn’t appeal. So he kept me in the closest and gave me jokes that I would never have approved.” Richie doesn’t hold back unleashing all his anger out. “I, of course, sued him and won.”

Cheers of approval echoes through and Richie’s tenseness starts to die down, relaxing into the crowd.

“Right, let’s go into the fan questions.”

Richie looks to Eddie and smiles coyly at him, Eddie returns the favour and gently squeezes Richie’s thigh for support. The two looks back at the crowd and straight up the middle are about 15 people ready to ask questions. “Why did it take you so long to leave that manager?” A fan asks.

“I couldn’t break the contract,” Richie explains. “When we were 2 years fresh out of college I had signed with this man and Eddie had gone into risk analysis. I did one gig and immediately wanted to drop him.”

Richie is about to continue when Eddie cuts him off, bringing the mic to his mouth.

“He knew that I delt with contracts and risks so he asked me to look at it. To put it simply, if he left and signed with someone else, he would’ve been in grave debt where it would’ve been damaging and become a whole legal issue.” 

*

Richie smiles at his boyfriend thinking back to the day that he took the godforsaken contract to the young risk analyst. As Eddie looked over the whole contract, he notices the whole fine print, something he knew that Richie would obviously skim over like every other person. Stan would obviously have 6 fits if he caught Richie doing that but alas Eddie isn’t Stan.

The manager had several writers on hand and Eddie looked every single one of them up and sure enough, each writer had a bad review. This man was going to stop Richie’s career before it even began but after 2 years Richie could opt out without any legal penalties. 

Eddie had explained everything to Richie but that still meant that Richie would have to do whatever they said to not face court. Richie, of course, was heartbroken but that was the way that it had to go. But in the comfort of Eddie’s apartment, he kissed him and Eddie kissed him back until he had pushed Richie away.

“Richie, you’re seeing someone. I can’t -” Eddie had said.

“I don’t care, I like you. Eds, I’m gay and I’m seeing someone against my will,” Richie tries to reason.

“That - that doesn’t matter.”

I broke his heart but he knew that Eddie was right. Natalie was lovely, no matter the circumstance he couldn’t hurt her.

****

“Eddie with Richie being a comedian, have you met any other comedians?” A fan asks Richie’s boyfriend.

“I have actually. Bo Burnham and John Mulaney,” Eddie replies. “In fact, Bo Burnham has a very relatable song called Art is Dead. It’s the epitome of Richie.”

“Oh, how so?” Richie presses. 

Sure he’s met Bo Burnham but he hasn’t really listened to his stand up shows, all he knows is that he makes funny songs. Eddie is often raving about a few of Bo’s songs but that’s about it, Eddie’s never gotten him to actually listen to them.

“Okay, so young Richie was an asshat and that’s just putting it lightly. Anyway, there’s this line, ‘Have you ever been to a birthday party for children, and one of the children won’t stop screaming?’” The crowd laughs, “I can guarantee you that Richie often did this, for all 6 of us and if we were lucky, also his own party, making it all 7.“ 

Richie just starts to laugh knowing full well that it was him as a child, he mouths ‘true’ to the audience, causing more and more laughter before Eddie’s voice starts to echo back through the speakers.

“Richie always craved the attention, as mentioned in the song, but one line that I use often is, ‘There’s other people, you selfish asshole!’“ Richie tries to contain his laughter but he burst and tears start to stream down his face as he laughs the hardest he has in years, from a joke that wasn’t his own. 

Nobody can break him but somehow his boyfriend explaining how Bo Burnham’s song is relatable just makes him burst into tears from laughter. Even Stan’s dry and sarcastic wit wasn’t enough to make him cry, in laughter, when they were kids or even now as adults. It’s physically impossible.

“I hope a lot of you got that on camera, me crying; nobody has been able to do that ever!” Richie exclaims as he wipes away the tears from under his eyes. Now it’s Eddie’s turn to laugh vigorously. 

But at that moment, Richie knows, he knows that the man right beside him, laughing in absolute joy, is the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Normally he’d forget about his granddad’s ring during the day until he got home and has taken his pants off. But now as the thought continues to creep into his brain, the ring feels like it’s burning a hole in his pocket, wanting to escape.

*

“How long have you two been friends for before you got together?” Another fan asks 

“About 3 decades of friendship and 2 years as boyfriends,” Eddie confirms.

“It would’ve been 4 maybe 5 years of being boyfriends if I didn’t have that shitty manager.” In Richie’s peripheral vision, he can see Eddie’s shocked face. “Don’t act surprised, I flirted with you through all of middle school to college.” Eddie laughs as does the crowd.

Richie knows it’s too soon but maybe this is the way it is meant to happen, how he is meant to ask Eddie to marry him. He’d be bloody stupid to not do it when he has known that Eddie is the only one for him ever since Bowers’ cousin in the arcade back when he was 14. 

The ring in his pocket becomes Richie’s main focus, not the fans; if he takes it out… 

“Rich? You good?” Eddie asks.

“Huh? Oh uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Richie stammers. “Next question.”

“You said that you suffer from anxiety, how do you manage it when you’re on stage?” A young girl asks, she’s probably no more than 16, she fidgets with her fingernails as she speaks and it becomes that she’s nervous.

“Don’t be nervous hun, it’s okay, I am too,” Richie states and the crowd ‘awe’s’ causing Richie to chuckle. “I know if I’m having an anxiety attack and it’s become part of my everyday life so I find it’s best to act as if it’s not there. It’s partially because I’m too lazy to get therapy.”

That’s the truth, any time he gets an anxiety attack he knows he’s not dying especially since Eddie has explained it to him. It’s annoying but therapy is just too bothersome, he has to try to fit it in with his busy schedule and then he’ll probably have to get anti-anxiety pills or anti-depressants to stop the anxiety attacks.

“But, if Eddie is by my side then all my anxiety tends to go away,” Richie finishes and quickly digs into his pocket, fiddling with the ring in his pocket. It’s hidden away from the way he’s sitting which is the important thing.

But he’s unsure of what to do, does he do it now in front of hundreds? Or does he do it later at a restaurant? If he does it now and Eddie says ‘no’ then that’s going to leave an awkward 25 minutes left of the panel. 

He looks back at Eddie. 

“If you ever get married, would you become Richie Kaspbrak or Eddie Tozier or Richie and Eddie Kaspbrak-Tozier?” Richie’s eyes almost pop out of his head, the pain is unbearable, he needs to break, he wants to break but it’s an impulsive move to propose without thinking it through. 

He hasn’t thought of how he would do it.

Hasn’t thought of what he’d say.

“I uh,” Eddie faulters, “100% Eddie Tozier, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Richie chokes on his saliva and bursts into a coughing fit, what the fuck?

“You for real, Eds?” Richie questions, he takes one look at the audience, who are anticipating on what happens next, then back to Eddie. 

“If you’re taking it as a proposal, I don’t thi-” Eddie’s cut off by Richie holding a white gold plated ring. “Are you -” The look in Richie’s eyes is enough for Eddie to take the ring and place it right on his finger. Sure enough, it is, surprisingly a perfect fit.

“Ask him!” Some dude yells from the crowd, a chorus erupts and causes Richie to fall from his chair and onto one knee.

“I know this isn’t a restaurant and is entirely impulsive but it wouldn’t be me if it wasn’t. I love you, have since we were 10, instead of it being hypothetical, will you truly become Edward Tozier? Marry me?”  

“Yes,” Eddie replies pulling Richie up from the floor, the crowd erupts as he kisses Richie’s cheek before sending him back to his own seat. 

“Next question?” Richie says.

[winwxn]

Rules: you can only repeat one artist and only one time, so we can all kind of spread new 🎶 to the people we tag. Try to listen to at least one of the songs people rec here.

tagged by: @trashlord-007 - thank you!!! I’ll definitely listen to some of those songs!

I did about 2 songs per prompt bc i listen to kpop and pop punk/post-hardcore stuff so just some extra recommendations. 

1) one song you 💛 the first time you listened to and never got tired of?

nct u - the 7th sense

blink-182 - all the small things

2) one song you 😭 every time you listen or makes you emotional?

lee hi - breathe

scary kids scaring kids - watch me bleed

3) one song that always makes you happy/😁?

infinite - bad

janitor bob and the armchair cowboys - happy song

4) one song that you would dedicate to your best friend and/or your family?

exo - call me baby (bff and I’s first kpop song we liked)

all time low - weightless (me and my sister’s jam)

5) one song with a production (the sounds, the beat, the mood) you 😍?

jooyoung - dive

pierce the veil - the first punch (literally the whole album collide with the sky)

6) one song with perfect, amazing, outstanding lyrics?

we came as romans - king of silence OR hope

7) one song that you would recommend to anyone?

ikon - killing me

tiny meat gang - short kings anthem

8) one song you don’t understand why you like so much but you do anyway?

alphabat - tantara

mayday parade - jamie all over

9) one song that you think people, in general, wouldn’t like but you do?

inx - alright

knk - sunset

10) one song people normally like and you don’t like or hate?

most of twice’s songs (sorry)

11) one song you would call a masterpiece?

oh my girl - closer

jun.k - think about you

bo burnham - my whole family thinks i’m gay

12) one song you recently (last 30 days max) discovered and really liked it?

jackson wang - oxygen

black6ix - call my name

speak low if you speak love - eight weeks

13) one song you listen to to get pumped like you wanna tear down the fucking government or something?

jessi - who dat b

day6 - shoot me

ariana grande, miley cyrus, lana del ray - don’t call me angel

tagging:

@sichengsbimbo @korimi4 @unfortunatelyyy @momijimin @moonsbeta @burslprots

[hi-i-love-u-bitch]

And now episode 3 of: Things that I have said throughout my life time that have caused my friends and family to give me looks of disappointment and concern...

“Hopefully there’s a porn parody of it. Come on PornHub! I’m counting on you!”

“At this point in my life I only live for the gays.”

“I mean, sometimes I want them to break up so that she can see how much of a bitch she’s being to him. But at the same time, she’s my cousin and I know this it the best relationship she’s ever gunna have because nobody else is gunna wanna tolerate her.”

“I may have a goth kink but at least I don’t un-ironically like SAO!”

“Look, if the wold didn’t want furries to exist then Disney should really stop making their anthropomorphic animals so appealing. I’m looking at you Zootopia!”

“My self esteem is so low Satan is jealous.”

“I thought I made it super obvious that I’m really into bondage?”

Them: “Call me daddy.” Me: “Uh, no, but you can call ME daddy.”

“I swear to every deity in the world that if you ever call me ‘Princess’ again I will drop kick you off the nearest cliff.”

“In this house we worship the Flying Spaghetti Monster!”

“Sir, I hate to be the one to break it to you but your sex life is not appealing to us and you’re not that attractive. You’re a balding man past his prime that doesn’t pay his speeding tickets! Now can we please get back to the lecture?”

“In the wise words of Bo Burnham: ‘Why the fuck would you think God would ever want to kick it with you when there’s a trillion cooler aliens?’“

*on Thanksgiving day* “My people did not die for this bullshit!”

“Yes, I’m from Texas and yes, I’m always armed.” *flashes rainbow knife*

“I don’t care if Mama Mia is a bad musical, I didn’t come here for talent, I came here to belt out cheesy ABBA songs!”

“I completely understand why girls in the olden days wanted to become nuns. I too would totally ditch marriage to get an education and shut myself in a library forever. And I don’t even believe in God!”

“Listen Skittle dick, just because I’m a fat girl with low self esteem doesn’t mean I’m easy!”

“I’m here for a good time, not a long time.” *eats third slice of cake*

“Look, I don’t like kids but I will gladly get a degree in education out of spite just so I can go back to middle school and teach those little fuckers how to properly write a sentence!”

“For the love of Christ! You’re first language is English, how are you this bad at writing?!”

“I already had my existential crisis when I was nine now everything else is kind of numb.”

“Do I hate you? Nah, I don’t think ‘hate’ is a strong enough word for it.”

“There are certain people in the world that just....need to burn.”

“It’s just a ticking time bomb until we all get fucked and not in the good way. There was no foreplay, no lube, no condom and the whole time it was 1950s missionary style.”

[shiorianma]

Fenton/Gyro

requested by: @spoiled-truth

prompt: my whole family thinks i'm gay by bo burnham

okay it's literally 3am right now and i'm gonna post it now because i totally know that if i won't, i'm gonna proofread it tomorrow and totally gonna rewrite it. oof i hope it's not that bad

It was raining outside, Fenton was assisting Gyro in his lab. It was late November, the day after Thanksgiving. Gyro originally gave Fenton a day off today but he texted Fenton yesterday and insisted that he comes to work today.

Assisting. He didn't do that a lot. Gyro usually wanted to be by himself, but today he constantly asked for Fenton's help.

Fenton didn't mind. He enjoyed Gyro's company. Maybe a little more than he liked to admit.

"Anything else?" Fenton asked after bringing back copies from documents that, as he assumed, belonged to Mr. McDuck.

"No, no, you can go home now." he said, not looking up from his work.

Fenton smiled, turning around to leave. But then he hesitated. His boss wasn't the same today. Unfocused, constantly losing his temper and the weirdest thing, he was nice. Nicer than usual at least.

"Mr. Gearloose?" he turned around again, his voice sounded nervous, a little worried even.

Gyro looked up from his work, giving Fenton a rather confused look. "What?" he sighed

"Are you alright?"

Silence filled the room. Fenton could hear the raindrops pouring down the windows and the sounds of the machines working in the backround. He locked eyes with his boss, and neither of them dared looking away.

"I'm fine." he eventually answered. If Gyro wasn't upset before, he definitely would've been now.

"You can go now." he repeated, impatiently, locking eyes with Fenton again.

"You don't seem fine." he stepped a few steps towards Gyro.

His boss hated talking about personal issues. He knew that. But he was worried. Worried enough to risk his job.

Gyro let out a deep sigh.

Now he was the one holding the gaze.

"Do you think I'm gay?" he blurted out.

Fenton blinked in suprise. That's been bothering him the whole time?

"I- I never really thought about it if I'm honest." he didn't lie. Of course, there were thoughts. But nothing too serious.

Gyro nervously played with a tissue. And he smiled. He smiled, Fenton realized.

"But you know, that- that's like totally okay-" he tried comforting him by placing a hand on Gyro's shoulder.

Gyro grabbed Fenton's hand and pulled it away. "I know, I know. That's not it." he looked up to Fenton, his smile was faded.

"My whole family thinks I'm gay. I sometimes feel like that's the only question on their mind on family gatherings." he said, kinda soft in Fenton's ears.

Fenton grabbed a chair and sat down in front of him. He was ready to listen.

"And, you know." he continued, realizing that Fenton really did want to listen "that god damn question just won't go away." Fenton could basically see how uncomfortable he felt.

"And-" Fenton stopped for a second. He wanted to make sure he didn't say anything wrong now "Why have you been so distracted all day? Because-"

"Because I really don't know." Gyro interrupted him. "I've never really had anyone in my life that could prove or deny that, you know. And sometimes it's just stuck on my mind, as if I don't have anything else to think about. I have projects to finish and-"

"It's okay." Fenton grabbed Gyro's left hand and squeezed it, with a warm smile on his face. "I- I know how you feel."

Gyro looked at him in suprise, followed by a light smile. "You should go home now."

"Maybe I should." he replied with a bright smile on his face.

They stood up and faced each other one more time.

"I'm glad you told me." Fenton said before turning around and heading for the door.

"Me too." Gyro said, so quiet, he hoped Fenron didn't hear it. A second later, the door closed in front of him.

"Maybe I enjoy his company a lot more than I want to admit." he said to himself before sitting down again and getting back to work.

[tincanspaceship]

Per Aspera Ad Astra, ch.3

(ch.1) (ch.2)

Thanks to @onaperduamedee, @elissastillstands, and @speedygal for their input!

Word count-3485

rating-t

Philippa’s suitcase shut with a satisfying thunk. Michael perched on the edge of her bed, elbows balancing on her case. She reached out and slipped Philippa's hair out of its sloppy bun. Philippa held still as Michael rearranged her curls, slender fingers combing through her tangles, pressing against her cheek.

Do you have everything, Michael?

Michael shuffled forwards to plant a kiss on Philippa's cheek. Her unease leaked into Philippa's mind.

Are you all right, my love?

...I was just looking at the Vulcan studies on mind-melds…

Philippa reached for Michael's hand, her fingers working their way between Michael's.

And what?

Our meld–specifically, the lasting strength of our meld–shouldn't be possible. Many people who are quite close do sometimes pick up on the other’s emotions well on into their life. But thoughts...never, never after two weeks have passed, let alone six months. And we're human, only one of us has Vulcan training.

Gays do it better.  

What?

Accept it for what it is. A statistical improbability that just happened to fall on us by sheer coincidence. I know you're worried.

Philippa’s subtle smile and her flushed cheeks were enough to make Michael's anxiety fade a little. “You're right.”

“The captain is always right, Michael. When will you learn?” Philippa's brilliant grin tugged at Michael’s self-control. “Now, checklist. Do you have everything?”

“Yes. I will only partake in your unnecessary checklist if we're going to–” Michael sighed in distaste, “–cuddle.” Philippa absolutely beamed.

“You said it!”

“Yes, I said it. Shut up and move over,” Michael grumbled. Philippa's eyes gleamed as she shuffled over and patted the free side of the bed. Michael swivelled and hopped over their luggage, ending up with Philippa's hand on her forearm, sprawled on the mattress. She flipped onto her side and wrapped her arms around Philippa's waist, guiding Philippa's head to the hollow of her neck, jaw resting on her collarbone and hair tickling her throat.

“Ready, Burnham?”

“I still think this is unnecessary.”

“Toothbrush?”

“Check.”

“One week’s worth of clothes?”

“Check.”

“Swimsuit?”

“How long is this list?” Michael muttered.

“Hush. Swimsuit?”

Michael sighed. “Check.”

“Walking shoes?”

“Check.”

“Girlfriend?”

Michael squeezed Philippa a little tighter. “Check,” she chuckled.

“Good. I've taught you–” The beeping of the computer cut her off.

“Incoming call to Commander Michael Burnham,” it announced. Michael disentangled herself from Philippa, with a sigh. She sat up and ran her hand through her hair, grabbing her display PADD off her shelf, straightening her collar.

“Route call through PADD, computer,” she ordered, adjusting the angle to hide Philippa from view. Philippa managed to slip her hand into Michael’s while still remaining hidden.

Amanda's face flickered into view. Michael's sharp inhale was not lost on Philippa.

“Michael!” Amanda smiled. Michael tightened her grip on Philippa's fingers.

“Hello, Amanda.” Michael's smile was convincing.

I'm here, Michael, I'm here, Philippa soothed, brushing her thumb across Michael's.  

“I'm sorry to call you right before your shore leave, but...your father needs to talk to you.” Amanda's eyes crinkled as she talked, her mouth turned upwards slightly.

Michael, make up an excuse. In case you...need to hang up.

“I may have to leave. The transporter room can't wait for me forever.”

“Of course. Sarek?” Michael stiffened. Philippa stroked her back, tracing circles along her spine.

I've got you. Promise me that you'll hang up if you need to?

I promise, Philippa.

Sarek appeared on the screen, face blank. Michael's breathing hitched.

“Greetings, Michael.”

“Hello, Sarek,” she managed, through her teeth. Her knuckles turned pink from her grip on the display.

“I am sorry to delay your departure, however, I must discuss my behaviour six months ago.” Michael hand trembled around Philippa's.

Michael. I love you.

Philippa's voice echoed in Michael’s head as a quiet reminder. Michael swallowed and nodded, solemn. “What must we discuss?”

“I behaved irrationally.”

“You did,” Michael stated, blunt.

“I behaved irrationally because of an extreme imbalance of my mental state, due to a lack of sleep and exposure to an unknown virus that destroyed my rational thinking,” he explained.

Philippa...oh, is he serious?

Michael suppressed a sarcastic snort.  “Really,” she said, voice just slightly too loud.

Keep yourself together. And listen.

“I...take it you don't believe me. Please, Michael, I did not mean to say what I did.”

“Swear on Amanda,” Michael demanded, shaking slightly.

Michael?

I'm just making sure, Philippa.

Sarek took a deep breath. “I swear on Amanda Grayson’s life that what I have said was not trickery.”

Michael felt her chest tighten.

Michael, are you going to be okay?

Yes...I hope. I'll hang up if I have to.

“Okay, Sarek. I believe you. And Captain Georgiou–she is nothing if not protective, and she exaggerated the amount that you have affected my life negatively.”

Did I really?

Not as much as I would have him believe, but yes.

Hmph.

“My apologies for my behaviour. No caretaker should act like that to their ward.” Philippa felt Michael's anger rise.

Caretaker and ward. I am his daughter!

Michael, keep your head on straight.

“Did you try your hardest to support me, as a child? I can answer that for you, because I know you didn't. Did you think that letting me be human may have been a better choice?” Michael's voice sharpened. She felt Philippa's palm press between her shoulder blades, massaging the spot that pleasantly forced her to straighten her spine.

“I...believe I did everything in my power to raise you well,” Sarek responded.

Michael's expression softened. “I don't think you could do your very best. I was, after all, a small child, a human, with post-traumatic stress disorder, with anxiety, with demons. One who ended up in fights she didn't want to be in, who came home with broken bones.” Michael was thoroughly shuddering at this point, her hand entwined with Philippa's, grounding her.

Do you want to go, Michael? I think I can feel your nausea.

I need to finish this.

She took a shaky breath and continued. “But you tried. You tried what you thought was best. It wasn't, but it was something. You had two other children to take care of. It was a family, a disastrous one, but a family still.”

A long pause spread between them, Michael's ragged breathing compressing her in her quarters.

“And…and when Philippa came by and gave me a new family, I was integrated immediately, with no bias. I came to love the Shenzhou family as much as ours.”

Philippa, will you keep drawing on my back? It calms me down.

Of course, Michael. Her finger began drawing swirls across the plane of Michael's ribs.

“When I was on a mission as a lieutenant, on which my mental state deteriorated, I had a…breakdown, of a sort. My training failed me. Philippa noticed me, she came over and sat with me, kept me in her arms and talked to me until it passed, until her shoulder was thoroughly tear-stained, and I fell asleep on her lap while she held my hands and told me stories. She cared so much, she cares so much still. And she would do the same for any member of this crew, current or past,” Michael whispered.

Michael, you should leave. I think you're about to need my shoulder to cry on again.

I just--I need, I need, I need a minute more.

“You sat by me in silence until I could calm down, you even left when I cried. Which, I suppose, makes sense to a Vulcan. And of course I didn't want you to leave, so I stopped crying. You tried to make me Vulcan, and it didn't work, it forced me to focus everything I had on grades and school, it isolated me. And you did love me, I know that you did and you do. But there's no friend-making when you're always studying or learning, a hundred different things to keep yourself safe and make sure you didn't fall behind.” Michael inhaled at the end of her sentence, soothed by Philippa tracing constellations down her spine. Still, she felt her throat tighten and a stabbing pain settled at the bottom of her rib cage. Her hands shook and she stared at Sarek with wide eyes, who seemed to be in shock. He gaped at her for a moment.

Transporters, Michael.

“I have to leave. The transporters are being disabled for maintenance in fifteen minutes,” she blurted. Sarek nodded.

“Amanda and I are staying on Earth, in Paris for the entirety of your shore leave. You would be welcome to stay with us.” Michael raised a wobbly eyebrow.

“I am staying in Pulau Langkawi. With Captain Georgiou.”

An almost-silent oh came from Sarek’s direction. “Of course.”

“I am sorry, Sarek. I need time. Live long and prosper.” She hung up before Sarek could respond. The PADD flew across the room, clattering into the doorway. Michael collapsed. Philippa shot up to catch her.

Michael, I'm here, I love you, it's going to be okay because I'm here and I love you.

Michael's whole body shook, her eyes shut and spilling over with tears. She crumpled, muscles tense and Philippa's arms holding her tightly, breathing quick and jagged.

“Computer, turn off lights!” Philippa ordered. She flicked back the covers, and let Michael cling to her as she leant back.

Is there something I can do, Michael?

Just...please don't go, please?

Of course I won't go!

She shuffled around and managed to pull herself into bed with Michael, tugging the blankets to cover them. Philippa tightened her grip on Michael. She felt Michael's hands slip up into her hair, rhythmically stroking the waves with trembling fingers.

Michael, try and synch your breathing with mine, if you can. I think it'll help.

I-I'll try–please…

It's okay, my love. We can stay here as long as we need.

Philippa felt one of Michael's hands leave her scalp. It came to rest on her stomach, palm flat against her muscles, the pads of her quivering fingers across Philippa's ribs. Michael took a careful, slow breath, hovering on her exhale. It matched Philippa's measured breathing.

Just like that. Deep breath.

There's too much...there's too much–, it's-

Michael whimpered. Philippa's heart strained.

Do you need-uh...what's the word? Sen-sensory deprivation?

I–suppose that's...maybe? I just try to–focus on one thing-uh...

Michael buried her face farther into Philippa's neck. She felt the damp splotches on Michael's shaking cheeks, the gentle pressure on her abdomen lifting. Michael's fingers spread across Philippa's biceps, squeezing the stiff muscles.

Will you...sing for me?

Of course. I'm not good, though.

Philippa coughed. Her voice filled the silent room, a quiet whispering of Malay into Michael's ear. Philippa's throaty whisper slipped into Michael's mind.

Philippa...it’s helping. A lot.

Good.

The familiar inflections of Philippa's singing calmed Michael. Her shaking ebbed and faded, hands still clutching desperately at Philippa's shoulders. She sank her teeth into Philippa's collar in an attempt to mute her sobbing.

Philippa looked down at her partner, face contorted with screams, tears spilling everywhere and eyes bloodshot, holding onto Philippa as if she would be hurled into the vacuum of space if she let go, fabric balled in her mouth.

Time slowed.

Philippa's voice faded.

“Oh, Michael!” she breathed. Her hands reached for Michael's cheeks, pulling her closer. She pressed their foreheads together, the tip of their noses touching. Michael opened her eyes a crack, lashes heavy, tears trickling. She mirrored Philippa's grip. Her hands pulled carefully on Philippa's hair, curling the strands around her fingers.

“It's going to go away, Michael. And we'll go down to Pulau Langkawi and go swimming. And you're going to meet my mother, and she'll make you the most delicious laksa. Okay?” Michael nodded, a tiny jerk of her chin. “But first, we’re gonna stay right here until you feel better. And I'm not ever going to leave.” She adjusted her position to plant a kiss on Michael's vague smile, wiping away her tears.

Philippa. I love you.

I love you, Mikey. Do you mind...not chewing on my uniform?

Michael's weak chuckle as she spat out Philippa's collar mixed with the sound of shuffling blankets.

I'm so sorry. I didn't realise–I'm sorry.  

Are you feeling better?

I need…

“Fifteen minutes,” she finished. She melted into Philippa's torso, hands resting gently on her shoulders. Her toes curled and relaxed in her boots. Philippa could still feel Michael's erratic heartbeat, shaky breathing matching Philippa’s.

“Okay, Michael.” She nuzzled Michael’s forehead, inhaling the Starfleet soap that Michael insisted on using. Her grip left Michael’s face and dropped to her waist. She clung to the textured fabric across Michael’s back, fingers spread.

“You're...you don't mind waiting?” Michael mumbled, muffled by Philippa's jacket.

“Of course not. Michael, I love you, and I don't mind at all. Just let me know when you're ready.” Michael's tiny hum of happiness warmed Philippa's heart. She grinned into Michael's curls.

“And I'm making you take a picture in front of the eagle in Langkawi.”

•

Philippa poked Michael in the shoulder. “Put that book down, and get swimming! I'm going to drag you into the water with your clothes on.” She wrung out her hair over Michael's face, who sighed, leaning her head back and tilting her book away. “You can read on the Shenzhou.”

“It would be logical to continue reading. The end of the chapter is near.” Philippa groaned and slammed the book down into Michael's abdomen. She received a somewhat-insulting glare from Michael, who gingerly picked up the book and rested it on the arm of her chair while placing the bookmark in the correct position.

“Come on. The water is beautiful and no one’s around.”

“Because it's raining, Philippa.” Michael adjusted her umbrella to expose Philippa to the heavy drops.

“Like I said. The water’s beautiful, and no one’s around.” She grinned and wrapped her fingers firmly around Michael's wrist.

“Hey!” Philippa yanked her out of her seat, dragging her directly into the rain. Her bare feet dug into the sand. Michael sputtered as she inhaled a raindrop, desperately searching traction against the soggy ground, fully soaked. “Let me go!”

Never!

Philippa shifted her grip and bent down, slinging Michael over her shoulders. Michael's squeal hit Philippa's ear. She scrabbled at Philippa's stomach, trying to find her ticklish spot, feet flailing wildly to her right. She felt the gentle pressure of Philippa's arms holding her in place, wrapped around her neck and the inside of her knee. Michael's fingers made contact with the bottom of Philippa's ribcage. Philippa snorted and swung Michael's arms away, laughter creeping out of her mouth.

“Ah! You are ticklish!” Michael exclaimed, reaching with spidery fingers to her side.

“That was a mistake, Michael!” Philippa responded to Michael's attack by hurling her into the blue-grey waters. Michael surfaced and sputtered. Her loose pants floated around her legs, yellow contrasting sharply with the water. She yanked them off, revealing the bottom of her Fleet-issue wetsuit, and balled them up before tossing back to shore.

“No, that was a mistake, Philippa,” Michael teased. She lunged for Philippa's waist, who dodged it and sent Michael flying into the water. She wiped rain out of her eyes.

“You know, Michael,” Philippa began, sending a wave of water in Michael's direction, “by bathing suit I didn't mean a Starfleet wetsuit meant for caving.” She knocked Michael's leg out from under her and flicked water at her rain-soaked face.  “I meant a more...human bathing suit. That doesn't hide all your lovely muscles.” Michael paused her attack.

“You wanted me to wear something so you could...admire me?”

“I'm your girlfriend. I'm allowed to admire the fact that you could toss me halfway to Vulcan.” She avoided Michael's spray with a deft sidestep.

“As am I. Although you have made it...much easier.” Philippa's bathing suit showed her strength while still being rather modest, her stomach half-covered by the crimson bottoms. Michael brushed a finger across Philippa's raised abdominal muscles. “You look good in red.”

“You look good in anything, Michael.” Philippa's hand twisted into Michael's, and she raised them to her lips and pressed a kiss to Michael's toughened knuckles. She made eye contact, smirking, other hand coming to snatch Michael's elbow. Michael caught a whiff of Philippa's plan.

Philip–PHILIPPA!

Michael was tossed over Philippa's shoulder again, this time slamming into the sea headfirst. She forced her eyes open and made a desperate attempt to grab at Philippa's foot. It worked. Philippa tumbled into the water, Michael shooting up and towards the shore. She pulled herself back onto the sand, lying with her legs in the waves, letting the downpour soak into her bones. Philippa crawled up next to her, shaking out her hair.

“Feeling okay?” Philippa's head rested on Michael's ribs, with her arms wrapped around her waist. Michael's hand played with Philippa's soaked curls.

“I'm okay.” Michael's chuckle bounced Philippa's cheek. “I take that back. I'm cold.” Philippa rolled off Michael, shivering.

“Ditto.” She extended a hand to Michael. They headed back up to Philippa's cottage, Michael pausing to retrieve her pants and collect her book and umbrella. She huddled with Philippa under the waterproof dome. Their footprints filled with rain seconds after they left them in the sand. Philippa clutched the railing tightly as Michael opened the door, closing the umbrella under the protection of the the porch. Her book was held tightly to her chest.

“My mother would say we'd catch our death of cold.”

“Your mother would be correct,” Michael responded, throwing her book on the couch and leaning the umbrella up against a window. “The chances–”

“I don't need to hear statistics. I need dry clothes.” She tossed Michael a protein bar off the dinner table and gnawed on one as she dipped into their bedroom. Michael threw her soaked pants across a chair, biting off a huge chunk of her granola bar. She shivered.

“Do you want your sweater, Michael?” Philippa called, accompanied by the rustling of clothes.

“Yes, please, Philippa.” A lump of fabric shot out the door. Michael picked it up and untangled her warm sweater, a SHENZ shirt, socks, underwear, and Philippa's oversized fuzzy pyjama pants. Michael sighed. She slipped into the washroom and emerged a minute later, her hair still dripping across her sweater. Philippa stuck her head into the central room.

“Are you warming up?” Michael nodded and pushed the door open. Philippa promptly fell backwards into their bed, curling under the duvet. “Good. Join me?” Michael smiled and sat on the corner of the bed, stroking Philippa's forehead with damp fingers.

“You're so adorable,” Michael cooed, brushing her damp hair out of her face. Philippa covered her face with a pillow and groaned.

“No I'm not,” she grumbled, muffled by the sheets. “Stop.” Michael draped an arm over her shoulder.

“I think you deserve a little flattery, Philippa,” Michael said, smirking. Philippa made an unintelligible noise and threw her pillow at Michael. “Is that how you treat your girlfriend?”

“Yes,” she mumbled, retreating under the blanket. Michael ran her hand through the chunks of hair that peeked out.

“You're still adorable, Philippa. Accept it.” She peeled back the covers and kissed Philippa's forehead, tucking her legs in and sliding in right next to Philippa.

“Never,” Philippa groaned, nestling herself in Michael's arms. “You're the pretty one.” She felt Michael's heavy exhale.

We can both be adorable, Philippa.

Hmph.

Philippa's hand wrapped around Michael's face, her palm gently shoving her away. Michael detached Philippa's spidery fingers, leaning in for a quick kiss. She took it with a smile.

“I love you, Philippa.” Michael whipped the stark white cover over them, sealing them inside a deflating dome. Philippa poked at the top of the impromptu tent.

“I love you too, ya dork,” Philippa admitted, nose bumping against Michael's neck.

Don't call me a dork, Philippa. It's unoriginal.

Okay. Nerd!

Seriously?

Philippa snorted and made herself sneeze. Michael chuckled, and tousled Philippa's hair.

“Dork,” Philippa grumbled, half asleep.

“Says the person with an honest-to-god telescope, Philippa,” Michael retorted.

“Oh, fuck off,” Philippa spat, with little force. Michael laughed at the unusually rude words.

I take it we won't be seeing your parents on our last day?

Michael's breath caught in her throat.

...no. I feel bad for Amanda, but I can't risk breaking down in front of Sarek.

All right. I'm sorry my mother wasn't around most of this week…

It's okay. I did meet her. She's a carbon copy of you, just thirty-odd years older.

“Hey! Should I be offended by that?”

No. Although there are some differences…

If you're about to make a dig at my cooking skills, I'm gonna force it down your throat.

Point taken.

Philippa snuggled into Michael. “Good night, Michael.”

“Philippa, it's noon.”

“Good night, Michael.” Michael sighed.  

Philippa's soft snoring filled the room a few minutes later.

[saltybutnotsavage-blog]

I was listening to bo burnham "my whole family thinks I'm gay" and I couldn't help myself I realize this has probably been done before and im sorry for the bad quality my tablet got a crack in it and its been hard to draw :( Anyway this was just for fun

[gemberrie]

me, listening to My Whole Family Thinks I'm Gay by Bo Burnham: god i wish that were me

[wandschrankheld]

For the talking point! "I hate your guts" by reel big fish for Romano. Also, "My whole family thinks I'm gay" by Bo Burnham for Germany.

I only got a chance to listen to the first song now actually, but - yknow what. Yeah. Yes. The lyrics Fit, but I’m unsure about the music style - that’s just me and my nitpicking tho. :P  

And the 2nd one….. isnt he tho. Isn’t he. (I’d also raise ‘Gettin Bi’ as a contester tbh) 

[maddymayobsesses]

Tagged!

My main blog got tagged in a thing by @otakushrew (super happy for you btw) but as I don't use my main blog I'll just do it here! Here we go... Rules: Tag 9 people you want to know better Relationship Status: Single and ready to hide in my room all day because I have had a total of 3 male friends in my 20 years of life so boys are scary and idk how to talk to them. Lipstick or Chapstick: neither Last music I listened to: That's a good question....my Spotify has no answer for me but YouTube says Bo Burnham's "my whole family thinks I'm gay" (which I want to rewrite as my whole high school thinks I'm gay but that's a different matter entirely) Top 3 shows: Always subject to change, but currently Binan Koukou Chikyuu Bueibu Love!, Yuri!!! On Ice, Haikyuu!!, and Voltron: Legendary Defender (yes I know that's 4 don't ask me to narrow it further please) Top 3 characters: Juuzou Suzuya (Tokyo Ghoul), Hakone Yumoto (bkcbl), and Hinata Shouyou (Haikyuu!!) [boy do you think I have a type???] Top 3 ships: Klance (VLD), Kagehina (Haikyuu!!), and...idk. Those are the otps I'd fight for. I guess I'll throw in OtaYuri (YOI). I'm terrible at deciding people to tag but I'll try to find 9: @chibi-n00b @dead-nightingale @killjoytoxicberry @mega-flygon-forever @l1nkp1t @ihavenocluewhatimdoingnow @panfemtheo @a-baka-fangirl @wildelectrictype

[tranxietykeith]

tagged by @paladinleader who tagged me like a few days ago, they are living proof that i should check my notifications more often, thank u fam :o

rules; you can tell a lot about a person by the music they listen to. put your music on shuffle and list the first ten songs, then tag 10 people

 Eet, Regina Spektor.

 Mowgli’s Road, Marina and The Diamonds.

 POP 101, Mariana’s Trench.

 Songs I Can’t Listen To, Neon Trees.

 My Whole Family Thinks I’m Gay, Bo Burnham.

 Nicotine, Panic! at The Disco.

 Talk Too Much, COIN.

 Hollywood, Marina and The Diamonds.

 In The Embers, Sleeping At Last.

 There Will Be Time, Mumford & Sons/Baaba Maal. 

tagging; @literalacetrainer, @thelance-dodo, @blue-carino, @teenytinytony, @sociallyinepthobbit, @casandsip, @panladinhunk, @homoeroticmoose. Anyone else I haven’t tagged who wants to do this just do it and tag me :occ and obv people tagged don’t have to lmao

[punkallstar]

Bo Burnham

This is a problematic fav, but yeah. He is incredibly gifted with words and has a biting sense of humour. The only thing is that his songs can get pretty filthy so if you are a pure snowflake I would not recommend listening to his stuff. But here are my favourites from him!

My Whole Family Thinks I’m Gay: Because same

Left-Brain/ Right Brain: This is the song that got me into his music

Lower Your Expectations: Because honestly

So yeah! Have fun with your Saturday! Love you all and I hope that you come back tomorrow :3

[beroidae]

Tagged by @qotice :>

:0

Relationship status: if you compliment me even once you will have instantly gained my affection




Pets: uh

Favorite tv shows: UHHH (idk man, steven universe? firefly is good too)

Hobbies: dying n being dead




Last song I listened to: My Whole Family Thinks I'm Gay - Bo Burnham

I tag:?????you???I guess???