#I'm so glad they like their quilts!!! :D

[factual-fantasy]

31 asks! Thank you! :}} ☯️

Now I'm gonna be totally honest, I DO have a favorite twin and its Ingo <XDD But I also fully understand and support your point!

What makes Ingo and Emmet so fun and interesting to me is their bond! How they mirror each other, how they interact, their strength as a team! Sure separating them for the angst is great an all- but truly showing them together and more importantly as equals is where the good stuffs at!

This is also why I usually try to wrap up their separation arcs in my AUs, and also don't really enjoy reading any Legends Arceus content.. seeing Ingo alone is not only heartbreaking,, but its also just not as fin. Ingo and Emmet are stronger together :)

@sallychaosaura (In response to this post)

Miiiight be a bit too late for that <XDD

@orangesideirrational

Thank you! :D I'm glad :))

Sorry, no can do! <:( Also thank you! :))

(Post in question)

(It was very intentional! :}) He's stressed. 😔

Ugh.. well, thanks for letting me know.. and at least the commenters know I don't consent to reposts..

😔

@thatweirdocryptid

TORPEDO??

@soulful-rodent (Post in question)

Well in-game we was traded to a friend and back so he'd evolve..

Buuuut lore wise, without a trainer..? <:D No idea-

Probably somewhere around 100 <XD

@xtra-collab

Absolutely terrifying! Next question XD

@lost-brain-privileges

No, no, aaaaand poorly, XD I'm doing fiiiiine won't worry! :)

@beeboboingo

AAATHANK YTOU SOMNUCH!!!! :DDDDDDD

I can imagine when he first gained the ability to hide in peoples shadows, he probably gave many people quite a scare without meaning to <XDDD

@cat7890

Thank you! :DD And Their stories are kind'a vague when I take out my trainer..

I'm thinking that somehow, Midori met Gloria in their first evolutions and became friends. Then they found Grim..

later on Midori found Anastasia after she had run away from a battle. She tried to hide but her shiny gold color made that impossible.. Midori took her to Gloria and they took care of her.

Afterwards they met Sylvester..

Beyond that, I don't have any details in mind.. 😅 Sorry!

Typically I prefer horror games/movies, but ONLY when they're being played by or watched by someone else in a YouTube video XDD

Some of those YouTubers being Elvis The Alien and Markiplier! :}}}

@fragmented-ghost (Pokémon Violet team master post)

AAAA I'm so glad you like them! :DD I plan to draw them more at some point, but atm I kind'a got sucked back into the Violet grind XDD I'm just about to beat the main game! :0000

@justanintrovertedweirdo

I have! :DD I like it quite a lot an have drawn some things for it here and there! Though I never got around to completing the game..

Someday I'd like to go back and beat the game. I can imagine I'd jump right into the fandom afterwards if I did XDD

XD Probably!

I don't remember talking about that.. if you had a link to the original post maybe I could remember with context..? <:0

@tallchest13-blog (Post in question)

XDDD I'm glad you like them! :))

XDD All of those titles made me laugh! And I see your point, but I have a few counter points to this ask..

For 1, to keep with the theme, I would want to/have to make this cape IRL in order to add it to my sona. Now if the last 4 quilts have shown me anything? Its that I'm not super great at making quilts <XDD

If it was that challenging to make it on a smaller scale? I cant imagine how much trouble I'd have trying to make a full size one! <XDD Plus buying the materials... having to physically get up, go buy the stuff I need and make it. With these health issues I've been battling, that's not something I wanna do atm.. 😅Not to mention with how hot its been lately, I don't think I need a quilt anyways-

And then lastly- I'd have to draw myself with it every time! I like my sona being a simplistic blob that has minimal colors and not much of a model to keep too. I worry a quilt might take that away.. :(((

XDD I'm glad I'm not the only one who sees the potential! :))

I have a few times here an there. Just to hang out with some friends :)

I mean, I don't know the history between you two... But my advice is to leave them be. If they ghosted you, they probably want space..

@iloveseriess

I altered the story of Welcome Home to make my version of Sally a teenager. So I was thinking she could be bluish-white to look like a young star..? But looking back I don't like the blue.. For story purposes she might stay a teen, but I think I'll keep her yellow <XDD

@anikakitty11

Yoo! :DD She's so colorful! And that black shadowy arm is so spooky.. Does she have a story? 👀👀

(Pixel art tutorial in question)

I'm glad it helped! Happy pixeling!! :}} 👋👋

@minnesotamedic186

XD Don't worry its fiiiiiine!

I've wanted to draw evil Grim and Sylvester again in general, but I don't really have any ideas for them yet.. 😅

[the-overreactress]

Fellow Appalachia enthusiast! Which Gilmore Girls characters would thrive in Appalachia and what would they love best about it?

I love this question!!! So glad to see there are other Appalachian enthusiasts out there in the ether.

Luke would easily be the one to LOVE living in Appalachia. His quiet, unassuming nature fits the region best, I think. He'd own a diner in a small Appalachian town, go fishing on his off time, and live a cabin in the woods. As someone from an Appalachian town comparable to Stars Hollow, I remember the grumpy diner owner there fondly. (Holler!! Now I want to write a Gilmore Girls/Appalachian AU titled Stars Holler). Luke would THRIVE in Appalachia.

Lorelai and Rory feel slightly too city girl to live in a holler, but they would like Roanoke or Ashveille, I think. They take an annual pilgramge to Dollywood and Pigeon Forge and make fun of tourists together. They'd share an undying obsession with Dolly Parton and her incredible park food (seriously, Dollywood has the best park food.) Lorelai would appreciate and participate in Appalachia's long hand-crafting and quilting cultures. Imagine if she owned an Inn there and sourced all of the decor, bedding, and art from local artisans. Same goes for Sookie and the food. (Sookie and Luke would make amazing biscuits, ham, and collard greens!!)

Rory would love Appalachia's literary history. We already know her appreciation for William Faulkner, Flannery O'Connor, Thomas Wolfe, etc. She'd appreciate the cultural landmarks of Appalachia (The AT, FoxFire, labor union history, etc.) more than the daily life there. I think it may bore her. This is why she'd like Asheville or Roanoke more than anywhere else. Both of those cities are full of artists and writers. Also, Roanoke is a local news haven.

I could only see Jess living there permanently in a city like Roanoke or Pittsburgh (which I'm choosing to include here because I feel sure he'd like it and its in PA). Places like Huntington, Morgantown, and Ashveille would remind him too much of Liz/TJ (hippy dippy druggy) for him to fully enjoy them. He would also be the type to visit Luke for a few days and revel in the quiet magnificence of the mountains. He reminds me a little of James Still, an Appalachian contemporary of the Beats. I could see him taking 6 months off from Truncheon, renting a cabin in the woods, and writing a book. Jess would appreciate the solitude of Appalachia the most. (I miss this aspect of it the most, myself.)

Characters who I think would love Appalachia: Lane (the live music), Richard (history buff, though he'd have a complex about it), Christopher (he'd love riding his motorcycle on the Blue Ridge Parkway), Sookie & Jackson (the agriculture and food ways), and really, the enitre Stars Hollow Gang, especially Taylor. Liz and TJ strike me as WV types, Huntington or Morgantown. They can't afford Asheville (trust me, no one can.)

Characters who I think would hate Appalachia: Logan, Paris, and Emily. Emily might enjoy the vineyards, musuems, and things specifically tailored to wealthy, Northeastern visitors. I can see her calling most of it "quaint." Logan and Paris would be the ones to make cruel incest jokes. Sorry to all you Logan and Paris lovers, but that's completely true.

I hope I didn't miss anyone! This was a great ask, thank you :D

[cloudcountry]

Hiiiii! I'm a new follower here! Congrats on your milestone!!!

Could i perhaps have a lil fluffy thing with Riddle? (you could make it angst with fluff or hurt/comfort if you'd like) Word prompt (if you want one) could be Tartan

Congrats again on your milestone! Hope to see you grow and thrive <3

THANK YOU!!!! :D im super excited abt writing on this platform now WHAHHWHAHWHA

the first thing i thought of was a quilt so uhh comfy snuggling time except it turned angsty!!! pretty sure i checked the fluff, angst, and hurt/comfort boxes JASGDJAHS

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS + TARTAN (1k event details)

~~~~~

Fights with Riddle were never pleasant.

Now the two of you sat next to each other, working through your emotions in the empty Heartslabyul Lounge.

“What did I do that set you off?” you ask, placing a hand over his.

“I...It wasn’t anything in particular. I don’t even remember it. All I know is that I was very stressed out and I had more work than usual. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Riddle sighs, running a hand through his hair, “You’re the last person I want to yell at.”

“Okay. I’m glad it wasn’t something I did.” you nod understandingly.

“What, uh...what did I do?” Riddle chokes out, wincing at how reluctant he sounds to ask that question.

“Riddle...I’m happy that you’re putting in the effort to see that you aren’t always right about things. I'm very proud of you for that.” you squeeze his hand, and his cheeks turn red, “It was just a matter of pride, that’s all. I’ve noticed you tend to deflect when you’re caught up in an argument, and that can hurt people’s feelings.”

“Ah...I’m so sorry.” he mumbles, looking down at the tartan blanket.

You know that face. He feels like crying.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” you take him into your arms, allowing him to bury his face in your neck and sob quietly, “I’m not perfect either. We’re both going to make mistakes, but we’re communicating with each other. That’s the first step.”

He nods, and you know he’ll be okay.

[salemoleander]

I can’t express how much I love Joel’s bit in your writing piece about 3d life. Ren was super cool too, ESPECIALLY the last to sentences. I just really really love how the only thing Joel cares about is killing more people because that’s so,, him.

anyaway that writing piece is so good. The best way I can explain is it smells like petrichor and wet dirt, feels like a cold breeze on a cloudy and chilly spring day, and tastes like wild berries from a woods or drinking fresh tea made inside a wooden cottage in the middle of a pine forest lit by a fire and some candles, bundled up by old blankets and worn quilts on a decade old love chair all made with care, the warmth of the fire and all the pillows keeping everything safe and cozy even though the window is open letting cold winter air in, as a pie is set to cool on the windowsill.

that is honestly the best way I can explain the way that short story makes me feel errr sorry if it’s weird

HELLO I WOULD LIKE TO PROPOSE A SUMMER WEDDING

Nooo omg that's not weird this is like ;-; maybe the nicest thing I've ever heard about a piece of my writing???? I have some synesthesia stuff so hearing that some of that sense-feeling came through is like. Oughhhhh I'm so glad I have managed to capture this

Yeah Joel is so fun!!!! I especially liked his bit in that bc there's also the implication that he's.. not lying, but definitely covering for any emotions by playing his role? He's not having an in-person conversation, he's not willing to risk talking about it- and wanting not just chance to kill but reason to kill is a tacit admittance that he wants alliances & people to feel something for. :D

[monopoly-mountain-requests]

Friend here, baah!! We love the patterns :D I'm very excited to start working on some of them, especially the creeper quilt, quilts are always so fun for me!

Thank you very much, we all appreciate it!!

~ 🫐 & 🧭 , @starry-fieldcollective

Awww I’m so glad you liked them!!!! I hope you have fun with the quilt, it looked so fun!!

[tj-crochets]

Update:  My nieces got their quilts and they loved them!! My older niece put the rainbow quilt around her like a royal cloak and wouldn’t take it off, and my younger niece (who just turned 2) saw the cat quilt, immediately pulled it over her head and sat on the ground completely still. Her mom lifted up an edge of the blanket and said “Can I join you under there?” and she said “no” and pulled the blanket back down and just continued to sit there lol

[wisp-of-thought]

l o v e l a n g u a g e

language: the principal method of human communication or

a systematic means of communicating ideas or feelings by the use of conventionalized signs, sounds, gestures, or marks having understood meanings

~

93% of communication is non-verbal. and i tried to learn a new language for you.

it was not an easy one. there were no textbooks, or online review tests, or vocabulary sheets. there was only my hastily scrawled notes trying to understand. there was only me, practicing my pronunciation in the mirror, watching my mouth form around unfamiliar vowels, my hands trying to learn how to hold the consonants so you might be able to better understand my accent. there was only you, trying to teach me a language that had never been transcribed.

you lend me one of your earbuds on the bus and play a song i cannot understand because there are just chords. just brushstrokes of sound. just melody threading notes together. the music is trying to say something. but you are trying to say something too by giving me this rythem. i cannot understand. but i listen anyways. and these are the ways in which i try to learn. you memorize my coffee order but forget my birthday. you never say you miss me but you look back twice exactly when we part every time. your eyes are always closed when we touch. i do not understand what these things say, or what you are trying to tell me but i listen anyways. and these are the ways in which i try to learn.

once, we don't speak for too long and the first night you spend in my bed again, i ask you, before i turn the light off, what it means. you don't look at me. you say you don't know. so i flick off the light switch and curl around myself under the covers. your hands find my hair, find my waist, find the soft skin of a scar, find the place where the flesh is thinnest between the world and my heart. i ask you what that means. you say it means, "you still have me." and so i kiss every one of your finger tips and in this way i respond, "i am glad." i let my legs tangle with yours under the blankets and in this way i say, "you still have me, too." in this moment you have not learnt my language yet either. but we are both learning. and some things are hard to misinterpret.

you take me to the movies to watch the same film for the second time. i do not understand what this is trying to say or what you are trying to tell me but i listen anyways. on the drive home, we take the leftover silence of the theatre with us, and i ask you what you meant when you did this. you are still picking the quiet out from your teeth with your tounge and so i say, "in my language, this means, 'i would choose the silence over your voice.' in my language this means 'you are only worth the past, over again. there is no moving forward, only backwards. until we fall into the oblivion from which we came'. " you pull off the road. you shake your head. say, "in my language, this means, 'the quiet is hard sometimes but never with you.' in my language, this means 'i think we have time enough to reread stories twice'. this means, 'you are the familar and for this i am grateful'. this means, 'i do not need adventure to stay'. that I am content to sit with you and the dark and devour a peice of the world together."

and so i come to learn that your leg slipping over my hip when i am just on the cusp of sleep means: i forgive you. learn that a sandwich found in the fridge made the night before for me to take to work means: im sorry. learn that the hour long shower means: not now. learn the bitting of the nails means: now. now, please. i learn the sunday morning pancakes mean: i love you. but so do the forehead kisses and the 1:30 am texts about tomorrow and the you telling me about your day. i learn the offer to fix my car means "let me be something for you, please." i learn 2 dirty mugs in the sink mean a bad day unless one of them is the red one and it's thursday, because then that just means working late, and in this way i learn about the context of a phrase.

you learn things too. pick them up slowly. through daily conversation. murmmer things in passing. nonchalant and nervous. i don't correct you. i just smile. because I know what you are trying to say.

i wince sometimes at the misused vocab and poorly built sentences that crumble quickly, but i do not offer to teach you until you ask. because i know for certain what you are saying then. saying:

i want to know how to speak to you in the language you feel most at home in.

i want to be able to know you in the words there are no direct translations for.

i want to be able to find you in the dialect you retreat to when the day has gone on too long.

you are saying:

i want to be able interpt everything you think there are no words in my language to say, and so you don't say them.

i want you to be able to tell me everything

you are telling me:

i want you to know that i want to try and talk to you even when it is hard.

you offer to walk with me in the fall afternoon even though you hate the crunch of the leaves that you say sounds too much like endings and i ask you if this offer means "i love you" or "i don't want to be alone right now" and you are looking away from me when you explain that sometimes things can have more than one meaning.

i tackle you half screaming half laughing when you buy us the concert tickets for my birthday and you ask me if this means "thank you" or "i love you" and i am smiling when i explain sometimes things can have more than one meaning.

i come home late to find you sobbing on the bathroom floor and i hold you for hours. i show you videos of baby's laughing until the tears subside long enough for you to kiss me with salt sorrow stained lips and i ask against your mouth if this means "thank you" or "i love you" and you whisper of how different things can have the same meaning and in this way i learn of synonyms.

sometimes the learning of a new language is difficult.

is frustrating.

is silences that scream two things in dissonance.

for the hardest things to define are the absences.

for there are a million subtle ways the pronunciation of quiet differs depending on what you are trying to convey.

sometimes learning a new language is

mistakes.

is misunderstandings.

is apologies

for violating customs

and muddling unfamiliar proverbs.

i'm sorry,

this is not my native tounge.

but i am trying.

i am learning.

if you are willing to teach me.

sometimes a new language is something we become fluent it. the bilingualism comes easy. it rolls off our tounge like second nature. you realize now there are new ways to love in this language. but there are also new ways the hurt. and new ways to heal. and new ways to apologize. you realize there are new ways to know someone when they are not afraid to be misheard.

sometimes a new language is a patchwork quilt of simple words and poorly stitched grammer. sometimes i pull out a few words at the restaurant to impress you. you smile less at the phrase, more at the gesture. sometimes i stumble over the words and you help me up, help me along the sentence, because you know it means the world to me to try for you.

sometimes all we can do is learn to understand. the words never come out right so we stop trying. but we listen. we nod. we laugh. we hold them at all the right parts of the story.

sometimes the greatest gift you can give someone is to understand

what they are trying to say.

when she makes paper flowers and sends me photos of them. i know she is trying to tell me: "look. i got out of bed today and created something beautiful. i thought of you in the slow process of the cultivation of this miracle." and i don't know how to reply. not in her language atleast. and so i don't. but i know what she means.

sometimes it is enough to understand someone.

sometimes it isn't.

sometimes a new language is not for us. we tell ourselves we are too old to pick it up. we tell ourselves it is too difficult. too forgien. too complicated. we try for the sake of saying we tried. but we don't.

in the end, we know how to say hello and goodbye and thank you and a handful of curse words. sometimes we know how to say i love you. in the formal tounge. with textbook pronouns and rigid verbs.

sometimes learning a language is

things lost in translation

is

how was I supposed to know what that meant?

is

why didn't you just tell me?

is

i didn't know how.

is

being too tired to roll your r's and remember the right tense.

sometimes learning a language is screaming everything you cannot translate at the language barrier between you. hoping they understand. hoping they don't.

but there is something unmatched about being welcomed home in your mother tounge.

something about being forgiven in words you could never misinterpret.

about being called to bed by the familar.

t h e r e i s s o m e t h i n g u n p a r a l l e l e d a b o u t b e i n g l o v e d i n

y o u r o w n l a n g u a g e.

[thewidowsghost]

Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 3

Percy's POV

Confession time: I ditch Grover as soon as we get to the bus terminal.

I know, I know. It was rude. But Grover is kinda freaking me out, looking at me like I am a dead man, muttering, "Why does this always happen?" and "Why does it always have to be the sixth grade?"

Whenever he gets upset, Grover's bladder acts up, so I'm not surprised when, as soon as we get off the bus, he makes me promise to wait for him, then makes a beeline for the restroom. Instead of waiting, I get my suitcase, slip outside, and catch the first taxi uptown.

"East One-hundred-and-forth and First," I tell the driver.

A word about my mother, before you meet her.

Her name is Sally Jackson and she's the best person in the world, which just proves my theory that the best people have the rottenest luck. Her own parents died in a plane crash when she was five, and she was raised by an uncle who didn't care much about her. She wanted to be a novelist, so she spent high school working to save enough money for a college with a good creative-writing program. Then her uncle got cancer, and she had to quit school her senior year to take care of him. After he died, she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma.

The only good break she ever got was meeting mine and (Y/n)'s dad.

We didn't have any memories of him, just this warm sort of glow, maybe the barest trace of his smile. Our mom doesn't like to talk about him because it makes her sad; she has no pictures.

See, they weren't married. She told us he was rich and important, and their relationship was a secret. Then one day, he set sail across the Atlantic on some important journey, and he never came back.

Lost at sea, my mom had told us. Not dead. Lost at sea.

She worked odd jobs, took night classes to get her high school diploma, and raised me and my twin on her own. She never complained or got mad. Not even once. But I knew I wasn't an easy kid.

Finally, she married Gabe Ugliano, who was nice the first thirty seconds we knew him, then showed his true colors as a world-class jerk. When I was young, I nicknamed him Smelly Gabe. I'm sorry, but it's the truth. The guy reeked like moldy garlic pizza wrapped in gym shorts.

Between the two of us, we made my mom's life pretty hard. The way Smelly Gabe treated her, the way he and I got along...well, when I came home is a good example.

I walk into our little apartment, hoping my mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe is in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blares ESPN. Chips and beer cans are strewn all over the carpet.

Hardly looking, he says around his cigar, "So, you're home."

"Where's Mom and (Y/n)?" I wonder aloud.

"Your mom's working," he says. "You got any cash?"

That was it. No Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?

"I don't have any cash," I toll him.

"Here," comes a voice, holding out a ten to the man.

Instantly, a smile sneaks its way onto my face.

"Hey, Perc," my twin sister says with a smile.

(Y/n)'s POV

I grab my brother's suitcase and carry it into his room; I set it down on the bed.

"You wanna come sit in my room?" I ask and Percy nods, a smile still on his face.

I lead the way to my room and when I open the door, Percy sinks into my desk chair.

"Percy?" comes our mom's voice.

She opens my bedroom door.

Our mother can make me feel good just by walking into the room. Her eyes sparkle and change color in the light. Her smile is as warm as a quilt. She's got a few gray streaks mixed in with her long brown hair, but I never think of her as old. When she looks at me, it's like she's seeing all the good things about me, none of the bad. I've never heard her raise her voice or say an unkind word to anyone, not even me or Percy or Gabe.

"Oh, Percy," she hugs her son tightly. "I can't believe it. You've grown since Christmas.

Percy's POV

Her red-white-and-blue Sweet on America uniform smelled like the best things in the world: chocolate, licorice, and all the other stuff she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central. She'd brought me a huge bag of "free samples," the way she always did when I came home.

We sit together on the edge of (Y/n)'s bed. While I attack the blueberry sour strings, (Y/n) stealing a few pieces of candy from the bag, Mom runs her hand through my hair and demands to know everything I hadn't put in my letters. She doesn't mention anything about my getting expelled. She doesn't seem to care about that. But was I okay? Was her little boy doing all right? The whole time, (Y/n)'s eyes were sparkling with amusement.

I tell Mom she is smothering me, and to lay off and all that, but secretly, I was really, really glad to see her and (Y/n).

From the other room, Gabe yells, "Hey, Sally—how about some bean dip, huh?"

I grit my teeth.

My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should've been married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe.

For her sake, I try to sound upbeat about my last days at Yancy Academy. I tell her I'm not too down about the expulsion. I'd lasted almost the whole year this time. I'd made some new friends. I'd done pretty well in Latin. And honestly, the fights hadn't been as bad as the headmaster said. I liked Yancy Academy. I really did. I put such a good spin on the year, I almost convince myself. I start choking up, thinking about Grover and Mr. Brunner. Even Nancy Bobofit suddenly doesn't seem so bad.

Until that trip to the museum...

"What?" my mom asks. Her and my sister's eyes tug at my conscience, trying to pull out the secrets. "Did something scare you?"

"No, Mom."

I feel back for lying. I want to tell her about Mrs. Dodds and the three old ladies with the yarn, but I think it'd sound stupid.

Mom purses her lips. Both she and (Y/n) could tell I was holding back, but neither push me.

(Y/n)'s POV

"I have a surprise for both of you," Mom says. "We're going to the beach."

Percy's eyes widen. "Montauk?"

"Three nights - same cabin."

"When?" I ask excitedly.

Mom smiles. "As soon as I get changed."

I can't believe it. Mom, Percy, and I hadn't been to Montauk the last two summers, because Gabe said there wasn't enough money.

Gabe appears in my doorway and growls, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

"I've got it," I offer, rising from the bed and walking out into the kitchen to make the dip for Mom.

An hour later, we are ready to leave.

Gabe takes a break from his poker game long enough to watch me and Percy lug Mom's bags to the car. He keeps griping and groaning about losing her cooking - and most importantly, his '78 Camaro - for the whole weekend.

"Not a scratch on this car, you two," he warns us as I load the last bag. "Not one little scratch."

Like we'd be the ones driving. We're twelve. But that didn't matter to Gabe. If a seagull so much as pooped on his paint job, he'd find a way to blame us.

We get into the Camero, me in the passenger's seat, and Percy in the back.

Our rental cabin is on the south shore, way out at the tip of the Long Island. It is a little pastel box with faded curtains, half-sunken into the dunes. There is always sand in the sheets and spiders in the cabinets, and most of the time the sea is too cold to swim in.

Percy and I love the place.

We'd been going there since Percy and I were babies. Our mom had been going even longer. She never exactly said, but I knew why the beach was special to her. It was the place she'd met mine and Percy's dad.

As we get closer to Montauk, Mom seems to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turning the color of the sea.

We arrive at the cabin, open all the cabin windows, and go through our usual cleaning routine. We walk on the beach, feed blue corn chips to the seagulls, and much on jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples my mom had brought from work.

I guess I should explain the blue food.

See, Gabe had once told Mom there was no such thing. They had this fight, which seemed like a small thing at the time. But ever since, Mom had gone out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes. She mixed blueberry smoothies. She bought blue-corn tortilla chips and brought home blue candy from the shop. This - alone with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano - was proof that she wasn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, like Percy.

When it gets dark, we make a fire. We roast hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom tells us stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents died in the plane crash. She tells us about the books she wanted to write when she gets enough money to quit the candy shop.

Finally, it seems that Percy gets the nerve to ask about what was always on our minds when we come to Montauk - our father. Mom's eyes go all misty. I figure that she was going to tell us the same things she always said, but neither Percy and I ever got tired of hearing them.

"He was kind, Percy," Mom says. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, two. You have his black hair, you know, Percy, and you both have his green eyes."

Mom fishes a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you, Percy, (Y/n). He would be so proud."

Percy's POV

I wondered how she could say that. What's so great about me? A dyslexic, hyperactive boy with a D+ report card, kicked out of the school for the sixth time in six years.

"How old were we?" I ask. "I mean . . . when he left?"

Mom watches the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."

"But...he knew us as a baby."

"No, honey. He knew I was expecting twins, but he never saw you two. He had to leave before you were born."

I try to square that with the fact I seem to remember . . . something about my father. A warm glow. A smile.

(Y/n) and I had always assumed that he had known us as babies. Mom had never said it outright, but still, we'd always felt it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen us . . .

I realize I feel angry at my father. Maybe it was stupid, but I resent him for going on that ocean voyage, for not having the guts to marry Mom. He'd left us, and now we are stuck with Smelly Gable.

"Are you sending me away again?" I ask her. "To another boarding school."

She pulls a marshmallow from the fire.

"I don't know, honey." Mom's voice is heavy. "I think . . . I think we'll have to do something."

"Because you don't want me around?" I regret the words as soon as they come out of my mouth. (Y/n) bows her head, looking at the ground and Mom's eyes well with tears.

Mom takes my hand and squeezes it tight. "Oh, Percy, no. I - I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away."

Her words remind me of what Mr. Brunner had said - that it was best for me to leave Yancy.

"Because I'm not normal," I say.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing, Percy. But you don't realize how important you are. I thought Yancy Academy would be far enough away. I thought you'd finally be safe.

"Safe from what?"

She meets my eyes, and a flood of memories comes back to me - all the weird, scary things that had ever happened to me and (Y/n), some of which we'd tried to forget.

During third grade, a man in a black trench coat had stalked us on the playground. When the teachers threatened to call the police, he went away growling, but no one believed (Y/n) when she'd told them that under his broad-brimmed hat, the man only had one eye, right in the middle of his head.

Before that—a really early memory. I was in preschool, and a teacher accidentally put me down for a nap in a cot that a snake had slithered into. My mom screamed when she came to pick me up and found me playing with a limp, scaly rope I'd somehow managed to strangle to death with my meaty toddler hands.

In every single school, something creepy had happened, something unsafe, and I was forced to move.

I know I should tell my mom about the old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds at the art museum, about my weird hallucination that I had sliced my math teacher into dust with a sword. But I can't make myself tell her. I have a strange feeling the news would end our trip to Montauk, and I don't want that.

"I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could," my mom says. "They told me that was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy—the place your father wanted to send you two. And I just...I just can't stand to do it."

(Y/n)'s POV

"Our father wanted us to go to a special school?" I ask, a little confused.

"Not a school," she says softly. "A summer camp."

My head starts spinning. Why would my dad - who hadn't even stayed around long enough to see me and Percy be born - talk about a summer camp?

"I'm sorry, (Y/n)," she said, seeing the look in my eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I—I couldn't send you two to that place. It might mean saying good-bye to you for good."

"For good?" Percy asks. "But if it's only a summer camp.

Mom turns towards the fire, and I know from her expression that if either of us ask her any more questions, she would start to cry.

I have a weird, vivid dream. It is storming on the beach, and two beautiful animals, a white horse, and a golden eagle are trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf. The eagle swoops down and slashes the horse's muzzle with its huge talons. The horse rears up and kicks at the eagle's wings. As they fight, the ground rumbles and a monstrous voice chuckles somewhere and beneath the earth, goading the animals to fight harder.

I run towards them, knowing I have to stop them from killing each other, but I am running in slow motion. I know I am too late. I see the eagle dive down, its beak aimed at the horse's wide eyes, and I scream, No!

I wake with a start.

Outside, it really is storming, the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There is no horse or eagle on the beach, just lightning making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery.

With the next thunderclap, my mom and Percy wake. Mom sits up, eyes wide, and says, "Hurricane."

I know that's crazy. Long Island never sees hurricanes this early in the summer. But the ocean seems to have forgotten. Over the roar of the wind, I hear a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that makes my hair stand on end.

Percy's POV

Then a much closer noise, like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice - someone yelling, pounding on our cabin door.

My mother springs out of bed in her nightgown and throws open the lock.

Grover stands framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain. But he isn't . . . he isn't exactly Grover.

"Searching all night," he gasps. "What were you thinking?"

My mother looks at me in terror - not scared of Grover, but of why he'd come.

"Percy," she says, having to shout to be heard over the rain. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?"

I am frozen, looking at Grover. I can't understand what I'm seeing, and I see (Y/n) looking at my friend.

"O Zeu kai alloi theoi!" he yells. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"

I am too shocked to register that he'd just cursed in Ancient Greek, and I'd understood him perfectly. I am too shocked to wonder how Grover had gotten here by himself in the middle of the night. Because Grover doesn't have pants on - and where his legs should be . . . where his legs should be . . .

Mom looks at me sternly and talks in a tone she'd never used before, and (Y/n) flinches: "Percy. Tell me now!"

I stammer something about the old ladies at the fruit stand and Mrs. Dodds, and my mom stares at me, her face deathly pale in the flashes of lightning.

She grabs her purse, tosses me and (Y/n) our rain jackets, and says, "Get the car. All three of you. Go!"

Grover runs for the Camero - but he isn't running, exactly. He is trotting, shaking his shaggy hindquarters, and suddenly his story about a muscular disorder in his legs makes sense to me. I understand how he can run so fast and still limp when he walks.

Because where his feet should be, there are no feet. There are cloven hooves.

Word Count: 3041 words

[pretty-little-pink]

Dark hummed quietly and spoke his actions once more as he adjusted Host's head, tilting his chin up so the water would drain into the tub. Out of the shadows he materilized a comb- an old, jeweled thing, obviously feminine and something that Dark didn't sem like he would own- and used his free hand to hold it as he clicked his tongue twice to get Host's attention. "I'm going to brush your hair, my narrator." The possessiveness was subtle, small enough to be passed off as simple protection left over from his previous state, and he continued off as if he had said nothing. "It may tug your hair a bit, but I will try to keep it from hurting too much." He didn't immediately continue, not like he had before. Instead he made a quiet noise as he brought the comb to Host's hand and murmured a soft warning before pressing it into his palm. The jewels that adorned it were smoothed, but still held the slight hard edges of inferior shining of decades long gone. He wanted to give Host the chance to actually feel the comb, especially as it was different texture from his hands, and lessen the chance of him being startled. "Host... I'd like you to stay in my room for tonight. You can take the bed, and I shall stay in the ajoining room, but I implore that you spend the night. I shall not bother you, but..." He trailed off, fingers stilling in Host's hair as he fought to find the correct wording. Eventually he decided there wasn't one, so he went quiet and continued massaging the thick, sweet smelling liquid into his hair and watched as it foamed. He worried about Host. (Hello, Empty! I hope you sleep well, and I look foward to talking to you- whether it is with rp, or casual- whenever you wake!

// Hi!! I missed you!! I'm glad you're okay!! // You missed my emotional relief of getting the egg out !! // I can stay up late again tonight so I'll be here!! :D

Host noted the pet name, though didn't think much of it. He didn't know why, but he didn't feel bothered by it. Maybe he was just in need of some affection for once, and appreciated a pet name. At least he trusted Dark and was comfortable enough with him that the pet name didn't make him feel bad.

He made a soft sound feeling the comb against his fingers, curiously taking it and feeling along it. A comb would do better for his hair than a brush -with the gel washed out of his hair, it was already beginning to curl again. A comb was more comfortable for his curlier hair than a brush was.

He took a deep breath at the request, thinking. "The Host... would like to have his quilt, then.", he said softly. He knew Dark was worried about him, and he knew he'd continue to do so. He rarely had quiet nights, which was the main reason his room was sound-proof -something he had spoken into reality since the first night he woke others up with screaming. "The Host's sleep will still trouble Dark however."; he added quietly. While he couldn't guarantee anything, it was very unlikely for him to have a completely quiet night.

[factual-fantasy]

I haaaasss 27 asks :}

Yes. Yes it does.

Thank you! :DD And yeah canon Gregory is just not my vibe man XD

(Traffic cone in question)

Thank you so much! :DD And yeah I try my best to get up and do something productive/different when I'm feeling down like that. My thought process is "well sitting here and sulking isn't making me feel any better so I should go and do something else" Which just so happened to be breaking out the old sewing kit and making a traffic cone?? XD Well to be fair I've made like 10 of those before but still an odd choice on my part-

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked my cars artwork! :DD

And yeah I would draw cars stuff more often but they're just so hard to draw :(

Idk why they decided to jump into a DLC before fixing the base game, but man I really wish they wouldn't have. 😔

I'll do my best! :D

@tallchest13-blog

Yes :} or at least I've been trying to-

Thank you so much! And I did use a pattern to make him. Credit for the patten goes to Tammy Hallam, heres her video on how to make your own too! :}

@montygatorshusband

AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD

As for Glamrock Bonnie,, ehh, its a bit odd to me. Not a huge fan of the color pallet but its not the worst I've seen. I'd give it a 5.5 outa 10

ALSO! I believe Octonauts is streaming on Netflix, but I've also had some luck finding full episodes on YouTube :0

Thank you! And oh yeah, I feel you on the fandom part. XD That's why I'm still kind'a on the fence and haven't dove head first into my usual angsty stuff. I'm kind'a testing the waters with every post I make to see if I'll collide with the uh, other side of the fandom :x

Thank you! :DDD

Also Google is a search engine. :0 If you search for Octonauts fanart, its gonna do its job and search for fanart and likely find some of the stuff I made. Notice though that all of my artwork shown on Google links directly back to my blog. Its because Google isn't stealing it, its parting the branches of a bush and pointing "Look! Over there is some Octonauts fanart like you requested!" XD

@pinkbomb08

There isn't really anything Gregory can do for Bonnie..

Its hard to explain,, but I'll try. Bonnie is missing his leg from the middle of his shin down. So he cant stand up right like Foxy because- well duh, he's missing a whole foot.

So order to fix Bonnies leg so he can stand/walk like Foxy does, he would need an entire replacement foot with a working joint. This would also mean that the wires in Bonnies legs would have to be replaced and hooked up so that he can control said new foot.

Currently there are no spare parts around that fit Bonnies model.. and even if they did, Gregory wouldn't know how to properly re-wire an animatronic foot. He's smart but not THAT smart <XDD

The only thing Gregory could do is make Bonnie a weird peg leg that makes his current leg longer. Currently Bonnies half leg is shorter than his good leg. But in all honesty Bonnie doesn't really want that.

Having Gregory ducttape this weird goofy peg leg to him would be more embarrassing then what he already has. He'd probably want to salvage what ever dignity he has left and say "ah give it a rest. There's no point. My legs good enough for what its for." <:/

@taizarack

If I remember correctly... Sometime ago my tablet pen broke. And it took like 2-3 weeks for a new one to arrive. In the mean time I tried to make an art doll of sorts. That doll was Bibi!

I ended up making a lot of goofy posts with Bibi and I as I waited for my pen to arrive. Once it finally did and I went back to drawing comics, I ended making Bibi a reoccurring character. And he's been around ever since!

Now Jangles is a Halloween prop that I bought because I thought it was funny. I was practicing making quilts one time and I made a small blue one that just so happened to be the right size for him. So I put it on and then I thiiink I got the idea to add Jangles to my blog as a joke.? I gave Bibi a "new friend" to celebrate hitting 10,000 followers. The new friend was a cropped png of jangles XD

Eventually down the line I wanted to give Bibi an proper friend. So for Bibi's birthday I drew a comic where Jangles came to life and here we are XD

@pinkbomb08

Currently I am getting none of those things :x I have a cold so sleep and food is hard :( Thank you though! :D

@notsoliyah

:D AW!! Thank you! I'm so glad to hear how I've inspired you! :}}

@ur0neand0nly

XD Thank you so much! And don't worry, I'm pretty confident I'll draw him again someday

XD Thank you. To be honest I'm kind'a going back and fourth on this fandom. I don't really wanna be apart of the fandom, but the characters are the only thing I'm interested in drawing atm soo-

@ardent-38

Ooo these are interesting! Although absorbing power ups isn't about digesting them. Its something about being human specifically that allows them to absorb the powerups.. 👀👀👀

@maddiethehatter2192

My advice would be to use references religiously. That's what I did!

Also thank you! :DD

Barnaby for sure.

Well, my interpretation of him really-

@taizarack (Post in question)

@funky-frankie

No there's no SpongeBob comic, I just felt like drawing Mr. Krabs XD

Also THANK YOU!! :DD That means so much!! :}}}

@elegysonnet

<XD thank you. So far I have some pretty basic ones I imagine. Wally's house is alive and evil, Julie is actually a scary monster but has drastically altered her appearance to look less scary.. Sally is very celestial in nature because she's a real star, Eddie used to be a real human and bleeds and has a heart beat and what not.. uuuuuuh what elseeee,,, I liked to imagine that Sally and Julie came to the neighborhood when they were really young and Poppy kind'a adopted them?? Although I don't know how wide spread that idea is XD

Thank you! And yeah I'm not very fond of that portrayal either <XD As for your questions..

1: I'm sure there would be somethings that would push his anxiety to the surface. I'm not sure what they'd be but still- I imagine if Luigi was around to see it he would try to get Mario out of what ever situation he's in. If he's in a crowd he'd try to help him slip away unnoticed.

2: I'm not familiar with the giga bell, but if I did add it I'd imagine those would be the side effects yeah <XD Really sore and tired and cant really move for like 3 days :x

Remodeled or not, I wont be adding any of those animatronics to the Pizzaplex. I already wrote the entire past of this timeline, and those bots all already have a story in my AU. And with their given stories it wouldn't make sense for them to be added to the Pizzaplex.

Of course I cant spoil what those stories are, just know that I have my reasons-

Oh yeah I forgot to add the colored eye lids to Wally and Barnaby in that trampoline drawing <XD

And yeah! I wanted Wally to be much more expressive so I gave him eyebrows-

@cudlycorncornsworthcoberson

Aw, thank you so much!! Its so cool to hear that you've shared my name with your friends!! :DD

[weltonreject]

hello it's egr again ! sorry i Disappeared i got Quite Busy and haven't been on here much but! i think recently i have gotten out of my years long reading slump which is exciting ! i've finished 2 books and am currently devouring a third since i last sent u something (the first two i didn't love bc like i said before i'm Picky about writing style so while the concept was fun the style put me off and i read them more to find out what happened than pure enjoyment but !! i am loving the third one so far it's called The Unspoken Name i'm not sure if it's ur kind of thing but it's very Captivating so far very different and fun and i like the style of this one a lot so ! based on the first 4 chapters i would recommend so far). i also made a quilt for my friends birthday which was exciting and have been making sourdough bread almost constantly which is fun, it all makes me feel like i'm elderly but in a good way haha. anyway i hope u are doing well, i see u are trying to implement new habits and routines so i'm wishing u lots of luck for that !! that can be a tricky thing to do but i believe in u to push through the rough days and recover from any that don't go exactly as planned and hopefully reach ur goal :D i hope u are having a wonderful evening/day and something nice big or small happens to u !! love egr (also i always read egr as "egger" which reminds me of like some weird historic nickname or literal eggs lol)

Egger! Egg! My Love!

I’m glad to hear you got out of your reading slump. That’s fantastic! I’ll have to add The Unspoken Name to my list-- I’m gathering pretty much any and all titles that can be vouched for being Readable. I’m trying to balance out my Classics with some contemporary fiction just to see what’s going on in the publishing scene. You know. To be Relevant and such.

A QUILT??!! Oh I LOVE THAT. I love the feeling of a quilt over every other blanket. And my m*ther has been making a lot of sourdough bread lately, which is fun to help make but I don’t particularly like the taste so now every meal is half overrun with a Not Great Bread-- helping me cut out carbs though I guess?? But, anyway, I do love the feeling of Being Old from Hobbies. I cross stitch a lot and that always makes me feel like I’m sitting by the fire waiting for my husband to comeback and tell me the newest correspondence from the King to the Colonies or something like that...

I’m doing alright! Trying to get my shit together in an environment where having one’s shit together is not exactly a priority or respected, so I’m really trying. This week is a Declutter Week, so I started with my whole space yesterday and then today is my desk and all my papers. I have an entire filing cabinet filled with old writing ideas and snippets that I need to tidy up. There is so much stuff. Like, easily twelve books (or at least base plots for them) are buried in this little plastic file hellscape. Let’s hope it’s an easy task today.

Sending you my love and my best. Hope today treats you kindly.

-M

[thiswasinevitableid]

42 or 20 with indruck! Can you tell I'm a sap?? ❤❤❤

I went with 20, since I’ve actually done a variation for 42 for Indruck before.

Prompt 20 from this list: My amazing partner just dumped me. Please come home with me for the holidays and pretend to be my partner.

“DUCK I NEED HELP!”

Duck’s used to his neighbor and friend entering his house without knocking. After all, he does much the same to him. But the panicked tone is enough to send him tumbling off the couch.

“Ow. What’s up, ‘Drid?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Indrid drops to the floor to check on him, and Duck waves his hand dismissively to show he’s fine, “I’m just, it’s, I realized another horrible part of Derrick dumping me.” 

Duck sits up, facing his friend as the thinner man continues, “The few times I spoke with my parents since I started dating him, I bragged about how wonderful he was. Goodness knows they’d criticized me enough for everything else, at the very least it felt nice to tell them my relationship was going well. And now I get to go home in a week for the holidays, without the wonderful boyfriend I told them all I had. It’s going to make everything worse.”

Duck nods sympathetically. He’d been the first person Indrid told about the break up, Derrick leaving him abruptly two weeks ago after revealing he’d been dating someone else at the same time until he could make up his mind about who would make the better.

He’d apparently said Indrid needed “too much work” to be the winning partner. Duck keeps hoping to run into the guy so he can give him a piece of his mind (and tell him to be glad it’s Duck, and not Aubrey, who’s confronting him because she is pissed). 

Indrid is weird, sure. He can be absentminded, messy, can leave sketches scattered across his floor for weeks. But he’s funny, thoughtful, and Duck has pictured him without clothes more than once, wondering what it would be like if it was him drawing the high, faintly cracked noises from him on the other side of the wall. 

But more than any of that Duck always gets a strange sense of belonging when he comes home in the evening and sees Indrid’s apartment lit beside his own, still dark one. Indrid is home, next door, and that means things will be okay. 

Duck would have given anything to be in Derricks place. 

“Duck, I need you to come with me and pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Duck should have put some specifications on that statement.

“‘Drid, you full well I can’t lie well enough to pull that off. And ain’t they gonna notice I’m nothin’ like the guy you told ‘em about?”

“I kept everything vague to decrease the chances of them finding something to disapprove of. You won’t need to lie, Duck, please I’ll,” Indrid’s gaze darts around the room, his red glasses sitting on his forehead allowing Duck to enjoy the light brown of his eyes, “I’ll design your next tattoo for free, I’ll pay both our internet bills for a year, I’ll, ah, I’ll-”

“Whoah, whoah, ‘Drid, you ain't got to do anythin like that. We’re friends, we help each other out.”

“So you’ll do it?” Indrid bites the inside of his lip.

“How long would it be?”

“Five days, six if we hit bad weather coming back up here. That wouldn’t take you away from work too long, would it? Or do they expect the part time rangers to cover the holidays?”

“Nah, the center is closed on Christmas. And I’m pretty sure Juno wants a few extra hours anyway. I’ll ask to be sure, but think I oughta be able to get the time off.” He looks back at Indrid’s face. There are bags under his eyes, the result of the semester and graveyard shifts at a coffee shop. His strange, wide smile is tentatively trying to spread across his face. It’s the first time since the break up he’s looked hopeful. 

“Yeah, what the hell, can’t let my friend be lonesome for the holidays.”

Indrid makes a delighted noise, flapping his hands, “Thank you!” He throws his arms around Duck, and Duck returns the hug. Indrid loves his hugs (most people love Duck’s hugs, but Indrid’s opinion tends to take up the most space in his mind). 

He’s doing his friend a favor, and that makes the fact this is a terrible idea worth the risk. And hey, five days paling around with his friend in some fancy seaside town will be fun.

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

Juno: You know that’s a terrible idea, right?

Juno: Pretending to date Indrid is going to make for one heartbroken Duck and you know it.

Duck: It’ll be fine

Juno: How long have you had a crush on him again?

Duck: A year. And we stayed friends the whole time because I fucking knew when to keep it to myself. And I can keep keeping it to myself because his friendship means more to me than my fucking dick. 

Juno: ……..

Juno:...... Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you

Duck tosses the phone on the bed as he finishes packing his suitcase. Yes, he’s had a crush on Indrid for awhile. And yes, by the time he realized just how intense the crush was, Indrid was in a relationship that made him happy, and the strength of the crush was overwhelmed by the desire to not make Indrid’s life harder. So Duck kept those feelings to himself, focused on being Indrid’s friend, including putting in a good word on his behalf to their landlord so he could get the little studio apartment next to Duck’s one-bedroom. 

Who knows, maybe spending so much time in close proximity will get rid of the crush….

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

…………….Or it will make it ten times stronger Duck muses during his turn at the wheel. It’s the west coast, so there’s no snow, but rain patters on the windshield as they drive down I-5. Indrid is humming along with the playlist he put on, finishing up the last of the meal they grabbed from  Dairy Queen. He’s been intermittently hand feeding Duck fries so he can keep driving. 

He also does a thing where eagerly and licks the spoon while eating his Blizzard and Duck is afraid he might hit the guard rail if he doesn’t stop staring. 

“How did we meet?” Indrid asks somewhere near Sacramento. 

“Uh, think Dani introduced us, right?”

Indrid nods, “That’s what I thought. We’ll need to have our story straight, but it seems easiest just to describe our relationship as truthfully as possible.”

“You mean we ain’t tellin ‘em we me when I rescued you from an evil goat?”

Indrid “humphs” crossing his arms, “I did not expect to tackled at the petting zoo. But I appreciated the rescue all the same.”

“Thought Aubrey was gonna wet her pants laughin at you.” Duck giggles at the memory of Indrid flat on his back with an extremely hungry goat on top of him.

They run through increasingly ridiculous things to tell Indrids family; that they met on a botched bank robbery, they got trapped in an elevator together, their characters fell in love during a game of D&D and it spread out into their real lives, and so on until Indrid is doubled over with laughter. It would be so easy, feel so natural to reach over and squeeze his hand or stroke his face as they both come down from their giggling fits, but Duck knows better than to trap his friend in a car with unwanted affection.

By the time they reach Carmel, it’s well after ten at night. Indrid drives the last leg, explaining that the house numbers can be tricky to see. They arrive at a stately three story house four blocks from the beach.

“Right.” Indrid sits in the front seat, key in his hand but showing no desire to reach for the door, “here goes nothing.”

They carry their bags up to the house, which is all dark save for the porch light. Once they’re inside, Indrid slips off his shoes, Duck following suit and immediately spotting why.

“Who has this much white carpet?”

“My parents.” Indrid grumbles. 

They tiptoe towards the stairs, and in spite of the fact they’re expected guests, Duck feels like they’re teenagers slipping in after curfew. The bedroom Indrid leads them to is bland.

“My, they really did take it all down.” Indrid sighs, setting his suitcase on the floor.

“This was your room?”

“Yes. I wonder what they did with all the art and posters. I liked a lot of them. And I’d lay money that all of Brad’s sports awards are still up somewhere. They always preferred those to my art.” He sighs as he changes into his pajamas, then slides under the floral bedspread. 

Duck didn’t bring pajamas. He just sleeps in his boxers.

“Um” He points at himself in an attempt to indicate the problem. Indrid goes completely still, looking him up and down.

“It’s alright, Duck. That doesn’t bother me. Come on” he pats the mattress, flipping back the covers, “I’m cold and you’re a spaceheater disguised as a man.”

Duck snorts,settles beside him, “No, you’re just an icicle that got an art degree.”

Indrid barks out a laugh, sets his glasses on the bedside table “Touche. Goodnight, Duck.”

“Night, Drid.”

The light goes out and Duck nestles under the covers. Should he roll over so his back is to Indrid? No, that might seem like he’s hiding something. But rolling towards him could be too much, seem like this is real instead of a trick they’re playing.

“Duck?” Indrid whispers.

“Yeah?” He rolls over, finds Indrid on his side facing him. 

“Thank you. For coming with me. The, the next few days may be a bit awkward.”

“‘Drid, I wasn’t expectin anythin else. Not after eveythin you told me about your folks.”

“I know but, well.” Indrid takes his hand, toying with his fingers, “I’m sorry in  advance for anything they say.  Or do. Or imply. Or-”

“‘Drid.” Duck takes their joined hands, holds them against his chest, “You ain’t gotta apologize to me for shit they might do. I knew what I was gettin into when I agreed to this.”

“Thank you.” Indrid says again. He looks so tired. 

“Go to sleep, icicle.”

Indrid smiles in the darkness, and shuts his eyes. He keeps his hand in Ducks, humming softly when Duck pulls the larger quilt over them. Their hands stay linked as Duck sinks into the pillows and a deep sleep. 

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

Indrid towels himself off absentmindedly, eyeing the china-shop decor of his once lovely room. Duck volunteered to venture downstairs in search of coffee for them (Indrid trusts three people to make his coffee sweet enough: himself, his friend Barclay, and Duck). Indrid woke up first this morning, found Ducks head resting against his shoulder. He took his time studying the lines of his face, wondering if Duck would let Indrid draw him. Ideally, nude. 

Maybe asking his friend who he has a raging crush on to join him on his trip was a bad idea. 

He’d realized his feelings for Duck about four months ago. But he was happy with Derrick (well, until the last two months before the break-up, when he’d suddenly gone cold around Indrid), and knew it was common to get crushes on people even when dating someone. Besides, he and Duck were close friends; Duck made him feel safe, didn’t judge him for his quirks, was funny and charming in his own quiet way. So what if he occasionally pictured him while masturbating, imagining what it felt like to kiss him on every inch of his body?

There’d been a temptation to ask Duck out in the days after the break up. But his friend would no doubt assume Indrid was treating him as a rebound, and Duck deserved to feel truly wanted. Now it might be too late. 

The door swings open and Duck shuts it quickly behind him.

“This is a fuckin labyrinth.”

Indrid chuckles, “Couldn’t find the kitchen?”

“No! Thank fuck we got a bathroom attached to this place or I;d go to take a piss and you’d never fuckin see me again.”

“If it’s any consolation, you don’t need to worry about a Minotaur unless my brother is up.”

A silver bell rings and blinks, “Does your family use a fuckin dinner bell?”

“Yes.” Indrid finishes dressing as Duck checks his hair in the mirror, “and it means it’s time to face the family.” He holds out his hand, “stay close; I’d hate to lose you in the maze.” 

Duck hesitates, then grabs his hand, and they head downstairs. 

His parents and brother beat them there.

“Is that really what you’re wearing out today?” His mother asks when they appear. 

“Hello to you as well.” He and Duck sit side by side, and he only relinquishes Ducks hand in order to pass dishes. 

“So,” His father eyes Duck, the scrutiny in the gaze making Indrid wince automatically, “you’re Indrid’s boyfriend.”

“Yep. Name’s Duck, and it’s real nice to meet y’all.”

Brad, his brother, snorts, “Duck?”

“It’s a nickname, oh, thanks darlin.” He smiles when Indrid hands him a cup of coffee. 

“Indrid says you’re interested in...environmental science, yes?” His father continues. 

“More or less. Done a lot of work in forestry and botany and such. Goal is to be a full time ranger in a national park or somethin.”

“I don’t know why we even have those; why the fuck are we preserving a bunch of trees when that land could help enrich the economy.”

“Shut up, Brad.” Indrid glares. 

“Indrid, manners. Besides, your brother has a point. All that land could be a boon for mining and development,”

“With all due respect, uh, Mr.Cold, public lands are one of the best ideas we’ve had as a country. And they bring in lots of money to places that wouldn’t get it otherwise. Hell, back home in Kepler, most of the money comes from tourists visitin the national forest.” Duck chews his eggs thoughtfully, “Plus, screwin nature only comes back to bite us in the end.”

“At least it’s a degree that has a potential job that comes after it.” His mother stares pointedly at him and Indrid groans.

The rest of breakfast goes much the same, and Indrid pulls Duck from the table as soon as he’s done eating. 

“Right, that was awful.” Indrid sinks onto his bed. 

“And you didn’t eat anythin.”

“I had toast.” Indrid snips back. 

“One piece. Come on, darlin, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my sweetheart starve?” Duck catches the pet names this time, coughs, “sorry, figured better to keep up the game in the house, in case someone can hear us.”

Right, of course. Duck’s being practical. He doesn’t really think of Indrid as his darling. 

“There somewhere in town you like?” Duck settles beside him, voice gentle, “It’s okay if there ain’t. Can even brave the labyrinth and grab you leftovers if you need me to.”

Indrid meets his eyes, and gingerly rests his head on his shoulder, “Well, there is one place…”

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

The outdoor mall is obscenely cheery, Christmas trees covered in shiny baubles and carols blasting from storefronts. Signs tout the perfect gift for that special someone, and Duck imagines himself wandering from salesperson to salesperson until he finds the thing that could show Indrid just how much he cares about him.

After a leisurely breakfast in a tiny, scruffy cafe (indeed, the only scruffy store amidst the pristine, wealth soaked chains and boutiques) in which Indrid scarfed two cinnamon rolls the size of his head, they wander arm in arm, window shopping and people watching. Indrid relaxes incrementally, and keeps casting strange, affectionate glances Ducks way. 

In spite of the chilly weather, they opt to go to the beach, finding it mostly deserted. Indrid shows him a patch of tidepools, and proceeds to ask a dozen questions about what he’s seeing. Duck does his best, though ocean life isn’t his specialty. 

“Oooh, hello little friend.” Indrid is on his stomach, leaning over one of the pools with a hermit crab in his hand, “your shell is so pretty.”

“Uh, ‘Drid, you might wanna keep an eye on that-”

Splash

“Wave.” Duck tries not to laugh at his friend, who now looks like a surprised, damp cat. 

“Oh dear.” Indrid looks at his soaked top half and shudders, “that is going to be unpleasant to walk home in.” 

“Here, take those off.” Duck unzips and doffs his jacket, unbuttons his green shirt and hands it to the taller man, “That oughta help until we get back.”

Indrid, skinny and shivering, takes the shirt and slips it on. His fingers fumble and Duck steps forward and begins buttoning it for him. 

“You don’t-” Indrid starts

“I want to” Duck finishes. When he buttons the last one, he looks up and finds their noses nearly brushing. 

“We should head back.” Indrid murmurs.

“Yeah.” Duck drops his gaze, taking a step back, “lead the way, darlin.”

Indrid hops off the rock onto the sand, offering his hand to Duck so he can do the same. Duck supposes they don’t need to hold hands on the empty beach. 

They end up holding them all the way back to the house. 

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

It all comes to a head at dinner the next night. 

“This is low even for you, bro.” Brad grins.

Indrid rolls his eyes, “What is?”

“Bringing a fake boyfriend because your skinny ass got dumped.”

The little bit Indrid’s eaten threatens to come back up. Duck is still, save for the chewing on the inside of his lip.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Indrid responds coolly. 

“Friend of a friend on Insta said in a group text that he knows your ex.” Brad looks over at their mother, “Apparently Indrid is too stupid to know when he’s being strung along, and too much of a dud to actually keep the guy.”

“In that case” His father turns to Duck, “how did you end up involved in this?”

“Probably paid him.” Brad sips his beer and Indrid growls. 

“Actually” Duck says quietly, “I came because Indrid asked me to. Couldn’t say no to the most amazin guy I know. Indrid’s perfect and Derrick was shitty to him. Just cause we ain’t had time to put a label on things don’t mean I ain’t crazy about him. And for your information” he stares down Brad, “that ‘skinny ass’ is the nicest lookin ass on the entire coast, and you are the shittiest siblin’ I’ve ever had the displeasure of meetin’.”

“How dare you?” His mother hisses and Indrid takes that opportunity to bolt, certain Duck will follow him. As he’s halfway up the stairs he hears Duck drawl, “Mom always said money can’t buy class. Thanks for the real-time demonstration.”

By the time his friend enters the bedroom, Indrid is huddled on the bed, trying not to cry. 

“Shit, ‘Drid, I’m sorry, that was outta line of me but I can’t, I couldn’t sit there and let ‘em talk to you like that. I know you got your reasons for not speakin up, but you don’t deserve to have no one takin your side.”

“It’s not that. I can’t, Duck, how could you say those things knowing full well we aren’t together? Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted to believe you feel that way about me? That’s the most loved I’ve felt in months and I know it was a lie.” He buries his face in his hands, glasses denting his skin. 

“Hey, goofus.” Duck nudges him until he looks up, “you’re forgettin the part where I can’t lie.”

The gears of the world grind to a halt, and in a frozen moment in time Indrid processes a dozen realizations at once.

“You do like me.” He whispers. 

“No shit, darlin. Indrid, I’ve been into you for months, but I didn’t wanna push you away by tellin you and makin’ you uncomfortable. I meant every goddamn word, and that all barely scratches the surface of how bad I want youMOphhhm.”

Kissing Duck is a hundred times better than he ever imagined, the two of them tangled up before they even fall fully backwards. Warm fingers tangle in his hair and Duck whimpers beneath him, arching frantically into Indrids touch.

“Fuck me.” Duck pants when Indrid lets him breathe. 

“Not here. I, I think we should go somewhere else, leave early. They don’t want me here, not really, we could go home, rent a hotel room, anything, Duck, goodness please let’s get out of here.”

“It was an exclamation goofus, this room is a boner killer if there ever was one. But yeah, gettin gone sounds real fuckin good to me. I’ll let you take the lead, sugar.”

“You promise?”

Duck kisses his nose, “Wherever you wanna go, darlin. I’ll be right there next to you. I promise.”

[pbandjesse]

Aig's are starting to kick up for some reason. It's very annoying. But then it was a pretty good day. I slept okay last night and I woke up pretty easy. James made me toast while I got dressed. I went and got the bus and it was all good. I kind of bike down the alley the wrong way for a few minutes not realizing I had missed the correct turn but that's okay

I got to the school at 8:30 and did all the setup myself again. I'm not bitter or anything. I was a little annoyed to find out that one of the other teachers did not consider that they would need to get materials for their own project that my class was doing. Because we've been doing the same project every week for the entirety of summer camp and it is the last week and now we're on the lesson plan that they wrote and they didn't request enough supplies. And I find this out about 45 minutes before my class was supposed to start. I was not pleased. It all work out in the end. But I was not happy.

For both yoga classes I have the kids discuss what Trump said about Baltimore this past weekend. We talked about what it means and why it hurts when someone on the outside says something like that. I had them all say something positive about the city and reasons they like it here. The architecture the people. And museums. The food. We had some good answers. Couple kids said things like Wendy's, Chick-fil-A and GameStop. But that was fine and mostly funny. We also talked about ways that we can improve our community while we did our breathing. It was a good day

The kids were not very happy with me then I would have to leave early. They were all like you can't go. But I kept trying to win them I was just not going to be with them for the last two hours of the day. I tried to explain to them that for about 45 minutes of that that you normally don't see me anyway. But it was fine. We made it through.

It was pretty fun. The little kids don't love Mosaic as much as the older kids had. But I think they still enjoying what we're doing. The third graders like it the second graders are fine with it and the little kids are kind of just confused by it. But it's okay. Animals because I just would like to streamline that. One of the girls is writing it in a word but that's okay. I think they're all going to make very nice pieces.

During reading I kind of was checked out. Was very hungry so I was eating my lunch in the back of the room. I helped kids log on to computers but I didn't help with my shelves. Not that there was anything for me to really do. I went and made sure that these workers were working on something I asked them to do and it was all good.

Lunch and recess were fine. It's hot outside. And Bre'Asia busted her lip open. I was supposed to do an incident report and I forgot so now I have to remember to do that in the morning. She's okay though she just bumped her face on a fence and split her lip. She wasn't even upset about it she was just bleeding.

I got the kids upstairs for stem and I only had about 15 minutes to get everything done. During yoga I had told them we had to get through it but they were going to have to be taught by someone else. And they were like okay. So they all let me get through my quick lesson. And then I had them partner up and go in the hallway to trace each other. They're making bodies. Once I laughed they watched a video about bones and bodies and veins and things. And for the rest of the week they'll be cutting out those things out of construction paper to fix to the bodies that they made. I think that's going to be fun.

I laughed and got a lift to my old apartment. My Lyft driver actually was a parent of someone who used to be at access art last year. So that was very funny and I got to talk to her for the whole time about kids and their safety and stuff.

And then I was at my old apartment. I made sure that all the trash was out. I got the trash can that James forgot to bring. And then I waited for the maintenance man. He was really nice. He said I looked at a lot cleaner than most people do. It needs a couple things normal. Needs toilet seats replaced and a light bulb. It all needs to be painted and the mold in the basement is an issue but not one that I'm going to have to worry about. So hopefully I'll get most if not all of my security deposit back. I don't know if they take out money for the paint or the toilet seats. I was just very glad for it all to be done. He took pictures and wrote stuff down and then I gave him my keys and I left.

We move on from that chapter.

I got back here after a very long walk carrying a metal trash can. And I was hot but I couldn't get too comfy out. I rested for a little bit and had a snack. And then I walked to go get my bike. I was going to take the free bus but I looked and it wasn't coming for a while. So I decided to just walk and it wasn't bad. Once I got closer I went to streets to pick up some groceries. Couple things that I could have for this week for lunch and dinner. Food has not been very exciting for me lately so I wanted to get a couple things that I knew I like to eat. Indian food and Sushi and English muffins. Which my phone just auto corrected to "eating my feelings". Hilarious.

As I was walking down the hill with my groceries I have to stop and readjust my backpack. I went to a window ledge where I found three very small elephants. Made me laugh. I was so confused.

I got my bike and I went up to the other grocery store to get a couple things that they don't sell it the first one. Then I got back here. I put everything away and have another snack. Because that's all I'm doing tonight apparently and then I took a shower. I'm just resting now. James is working till about 7:30 and two of the guys from D&D you're coming tonight for their campaign. I'm hoping to work on the quilt. Because has to be done by Wednesday night. And I'm running out of time. There's not a ton still to do but I need to do the park that have to be hand-stitched. So I figure if I can finish that tonight on Wednesday I can do the last couple part that need to be sewn on the machine and then I'll bring it on Thursday. For the art show. Or art party whatever we're calling it.

Tomorrow is another day at Camp. We're almost done. I'm very burnt out and it's very hard to go. No way I have to be in charge of so much is a lot for me. But I'm trying. I love the kids so much so I want what's good for them and I know that I need to be 100%. So I'm going to keep plugging along. Hope you all have a great night. Be safe out there. Sleep well.

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

Winter Rain

I'd like to thank @xerxezra for the encouragement. I really needed it, and to the Enya song in which the title and fic is based on. I'm still working on the fic to go with a fanart of mine, but until then feel free to check out my other fics which can be found on my Fanfic Masterpost or Ao3 links which are in my description under my header.

In this fic the reader deals with a change in plans.

_______________

City streets were passing by, underneath stormy skies. No, there were no neon signs but there were cargo trains rolling by on the tracks parallel to the main road. Hmm, wasn't that an Enya song? Perhaps it was.

Funny that you were thinking of new age songs when none were playing on the radio, though you wouldn't have minded if any music was on; it would've made a difference. Enya's songs in themselves reminded you of that one teacher in elementary school who wore that cherry brooch you liked and drowned herself in a bottle of perfume. Your teacher, whatever her name, was halfway pleasant, but always wore a blouse which was a size too big and thus you always saw more of her then you cared to whenever she leaned over a desk to assist another student. Another Enya song, Only Time, reminded you of that one book you tried to read around that time with the questionable cover. Of course, neither of these things had anything to do with the drive home, but it was a passing nostalgia you couldn't pass up.

Wiry, naked trees were scattered along the way; none of them of much consequence except to the fragments of your imagination, where they were dancers in a wintery, mournful ballet. For his part, Rick was unaware of these random thoughts, for you had not mentioned them, but you did wonder about something else when you took a glance at the time and found you two were getting home a little faster than usual. “Rick, do you prefer driving? Or is flying in your spaceship easier?”

“I-I think each one is great in its own way,” he answered, keeping his eyes on the road. “but th-the fastest way to travel is by using my portal gun.”

“So it is. Hmm, makes me wonder what the Flash would have to say about that.” you commented as rain pitter-pattered against the passenger side window. “I bet he'd have a few things to say if you can catch him.”

“Gee, I don't know. I'll ugh - I'll have to ask him the next time I'm in his Earth dimension.”

Sometimes you didn't know if he was being serious or simply joking, though you tended to believe him, especially since it only added to your natural wonder. Your curiosity was a quality which tickled him immensely, but whether he could withstand it while driving was not something you were about to test. Outside, straight ahead, the roads looked all the same, although, to the discerning eye, one would notice the cracks here and there, and the splattered paint on the curb closest to city hall and the fire station. And while the roads were neither empty or full, you would say they were in want of life and perhaps a good shoveling, but with whatever technology hidden in the nooks and crannies of his station wagon, you two drove on the icy roads with ease. It was cold outside, but you weren't cold; Rick made sure of that by giving you the heated seat and a quilt to drape over yourself.

You were, however slightly bored because Zeta-7 hadn't been talking all that much this evening. He had been in a mood and you thought it could've had something to do with the phone call he received while you two were at the craft shop but he didn't say. It hadn't made him any less sweet, but he seemed distant in a familiar way that you were sure you had experienced some time ago. Perhaps he was fearful, he would have reason; contemplative as always; afraid, to an almost unhealthy degree, but risking a chance to placate him, you joked. “Are you trying something new? Is it a seduction tactic, cause I'm certainly intrigued.”

“Wh-what?” he blushed, as he turned the corner to head towards your street.

“Aren't you trying the broodish thing all cool guys do in those cheap romance novels? You know, the kind they sell at the drugstore?” you giggled, turning up the heat in the car to fit your preference.

“Gosh, n-n-no. I ugh - I-I don't think I'm cool enough t-t-to do that.”

“Really? Well, I think if you wanted to you could, though I doubt you'd try it unless convinced it would work. Not sure how effective it would be on me, but this isn't about me. What's going on with you,” you questioned with a serious, but gentle candor. “you haven't said much tonight.”

“I ugh - I have a few things on my mind is all, but it's going t-to be okay. I'm sorry if I alarmed you.”

“Not too much, I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Are you?”

Stopping in front of your home, he admitted with a sudden disheartenment. “I don't know. Sometimes it's - it's hard to know especially if you hear bad news but I th-think I will be. Eventually.”

One of his watches was flashing, and it made you wonder if it meant what you thought it meant. While you couldn't read the line of code which passed over its digital face, you thought you'd seen a similar line of code before. “Are you going to have to go? Is that what's bothering you? I know you promised that we'd paint together tonight, but you won't be able to will you?”

“No, I'm - I'm sorry. I had asked for the whole week off, but this - it's from my supervisor. I can't ignore it. I have to go in. I-I really wish I didn't have to.”

“Oh Rick, if you had to go, why didn't you tell me earlier? I would've understood.”

“You were having such a-a great time picking out supplies that I didn't - I couldn't bring myself to crush your excitement. Now th-that I think about it, I don't know if this was any better, but I-I asked that I'd be able to bring you home first so that I wouldn't have to worry about leaving you there without a-a word.”

Zeta-7 hated to break his promises, and you hated the feeling of a broken promise, but as he switched the car off, and you two walked towards your porch, you admitted. “I would've figured it out and got home somehow. I mean there's enough Uber drivers in this town, and one of them would've driven me home, but I'm glad that at least I had this time with you. Please be careful and visit me whenever. You know you can.”

Instead of comforting him as your easy resignation usually would, he balled his fists and hit them against the railing; hateful of his own inadequacies. You had to admit that when he got upset, it caught you off guard, but it also reminded you that he still was very much a Rick, albeit a softer one. “Th-this wasn't supposed to happen. I-I don't understand why it always comes to this. We were - I had so many things planned out for us and th-”

You hugged him from behind, interrupting what he was going to say. “There will always be next time. Calm down,” you cooed, “it's all going to be okay. It's not the end of the world and I'm not upset by it.”

“But I don't - I don't want t-to keep doing this to you. I promised.”

“I know, but it's not like you do this on purpose. You see, this is what happens when a girl like me dates a guy like you. Expect the unexpected, and maybe a few space worms every once in a while if I eat a sandwich from a gas station on a comet somewhere. These things happen.”

“I wish it - it didn't. Lately,” he confessed, his voice taking on its softer quality. “I've been thinking a-about when I'd like to retire. Maybe I finally should.”

“Whatever you want to do, I'm okay with it. As long as it makes you happy, but only if you do it without regret. You would know best of course.”

“I-I certainly hope so.”

You two stood there in silence for a moment, but you heard a beeping noise emanate from under his sleeve. “I d-don't want to say goodbye, but I'll miss you m-mi corazón.”

When he wasn't around, your home felt emptier,

though you refrained from saying so, and because you didn't want to add to his guilt you simply said. “I'll miss you too.”

“Th-there's a chance I won't see you in a few days. At least it will feel th-that way for me.”

“You can always call me, and if you can't then I'll see you when I see you. You know where I'll be.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “somewhere I-I'm not.”

“Don't say that. You're always on my mind, and I'd like to think you're always with me, in one way or another. There's no way I couldn't think of you.”

He turned around to face you, his eyes appearing twice as expressive through his glasses. Zeta-7 studied you and brushed his thumb across the back of your hand. “Siempre estás c-conmigo, and because of - of that, I'm never truly l-lonely.”

“Oh Rick, I love you.”

As easily as it was to adore him with your entire being, so it was to break his heart. Whether it had been a lack of love or an abundance of heartache in his life thus far which shook him to his bones, a replenishing of spirit was always in order. You weren't tall, you never had been, but stepping on the tips of your toes, you pressed a kiss on his cheek that never failed to floor him, and marvel as though it were from a fairy queen; one comprised of stardust and moonbeams. “This means you belong to me. Got it cutie? No one else has dibs except for me, so don't look so surprised. You're mine.”

Like a tease, the weather picked up and the strong gust which followed made you shiver, which alarmed him and prevented his reply. You were trying to tough it out because he could be gone at any moment. And must've sensed this, for against your control you shivered once more, but he pulled off his own scarf to wrap around your neck. “It's going t-t-to get colder,” he said protectively. “so please don't forget to wrap yourself up tonight. I um - I placed a-a few thick blankets in your closet just in case. Why d-don't you go inside?”

“Because I can bear it for a little bit longer. Thank you,” you smiled sweetly up at him, despite losing feeling in your cheeks. “but I doubt I'll try to leave my house for the next few days. I'll look after this for you. Hopefully, it's going to be warmer where you're going.”

“I-I can't say, it's…”

“Classified information.” you finished.

“Gosh, I-I-I guess you know th-the drill by now. Smart girl.”

“Maybe. I don't know much, but I know you, and that you can't tell me certain things because you don't want whichever information to be held against me. At least I'm learning. Either way,” you softened, buttoning the top button on his jacket. “please be careful.”

“I-I will. Can I um - can I-I give you a kiss?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

Though of course, he would ask as though your disappointment would disqualify his validity to partake of your affection. He bent down to try to kiss you goodbye, his glasses fogging up at the closeness between you two, but a portal opened right behind him and the guard Rick's on the other side pulled him through. And like that, he was gone again; without a choice; without a goodbye. Your arms which had been around his waist a moment ago, you brought down to rest at your sides, and you too clenched your fists in quick frustration but found yourself halfway exhausted by the cold temperatures and suddenness of it all.

His scarf felt warm and soft about your neck and smelled like him; of vanilla, and of whatever his house smelled like. You thought of the painting that you two would not do tonight, and how you were once again alone. That seemed to magnify it all, intensify the fact that you might've always been alone and destined to remain as such. It used to make you cry when you realized that he could be taken from you at any moment, but you had gotten used to it, or at least you thought you did. Only a few hours ago, you two were at a café, discussing painting techniques and how with a little practice you too could paint that little tree you liked that was growing in the corner of your yard; his enthusiasm was contagious, and you were pumped because you really wanted to show him you had been practicing.

If once again someone cried, then it was you because he couldn't cry where he was going; he wouldn't dare to and repress it for as long as he could help it; if only you were as strong.

Oh, winter rain, how could it relate? It knew little except its natural way; of falling upon the earth; of life; of beginnings; of letting go; of uncertainty. Yet, it wasn't the rains fault; it does not know and could not know; if only. It was cold, and you were cold, with the only part of you that was really warm being where his scarf was.

Thinking of what lied in store for him made you want him back all the more so that you could hold him, and make him feel safe. You wanted him back now because it seemed so unfair that they'd take him when he didn't want to go, but you couldn't bring him back; not even for his sake; being against your power just like the rain. For now, all you could do was only open the front door to your home and step in as the last train passed by; not knowing when the next will come.

Fin

[amistytown]

Hi, how was your day? I remember your latest covid test was negative? Or do I misremember? If it WAS negative, I'm glad you no longer have Covid. Today was a good day for me. I remembered to buy fresh lemons and fresh ginger AND I had a really good almond-milk latte today. I got to work on a quilt too, which was fun. I hope that something fun and good happens to you today too. Whether it be a delicious drink, or good fortune, or some time to do a fun hobby.

My day is all right, thank you! Working on catching up with tumblr and cleaning my room. I'm hoping my next test is negative! I read the at-home tests can show positive for 10 to 14 days after symptoms appear. How have you been feeling?

That's great!!! Did you make the latte or buy it from somewhere? Ahhh now I want a latte lol. And that does sound like a lot of fun! Is it a quilt for yourself? Would you share pictures of it someday?

Aw, thank you T . T You're too kind! Well, hearing from you is always fun so there's that :D

[factual-fantasy]

27 asks! Thank you for all the kind words! :}}}💙💙💙

@network-warrior-01

Funnily enough I have been thinking a lot recently about making my own web comic, right here on Tumblr! I have a lot of concepts, although I don't know if I'd make a separate comic just for the Factual Fam. I feel like they kind'a already have a web comic..? In a way.?

And I feel like if I made a story driven comic about us, separate from the ones I'm already making.. It would feel.. idk, off? My lil guys are meant to be with me, going with the flow of whatever's going on with my blog/my life. This is their story. Their lives with me are their story. If that makes sense?? I'm not sure if I have any other ideas in mind for them.. what would their world even look like if I wasn't in it or if it was different from what they have now..??

But on the other note, could you imagine? Me? Making a 100% original comic? With my own original characters, story, and world? Its a daunting thought. The sheer amount of stuff I would have to plan and the amount of angst I could inflict on ya'll would be insane <XDD

And yeahh,, the fanart thing would be a problem... <:/

The four of them sit together at the base of my stuffed animal pile. Nice and cozy! :}}

@cudlycorncornsworthcoberson

Actually the quilts are rather deceiving, they're just for show! <XD Bibi was conscious and could talk when he was still a picture. And he became a drawing without the use of a quilt. Jangles had a quilt but was still a picture. He was later "brought to life" with my pen!

The thing about all that life stuff, quilts, pens.. its honestly just for show. Those things don't bring them to life, I do. The flashy ways I do it are just for fun <XD

And about Cici! She was talking! And I think kind'a the idea as to why Jangles could hear them both was not only for the spooks. But becuase Cici and Gerald's concepts were so strongly developed at that point they were basically fully fleshed out characters. Their bodies just didn't exist yet. Hence the "I cant see" I hadn't stitched her button eyes on yet!

So basically their personalities and designs had been thought out. They just weren't there yet. But their presence was still so strong.. And Jangles being a picture kind'a bridged the gap between the concept world and the drawn one. If that makes sense??

He could still hear them after he was drawn though, I guess its an ability that he kept even after being art-ified..? <XD My lore's a little whack- its best not to look too far into it!

Also thank you! I'm glad you liked it all! :DD

Like I've said before, the best way to show you care is with comments. That's what would make me the happiest. :)

And sure I will! Some comics and random cameos here and there.. I already have some comics in mind.. 👀👀

I haven't seen the Puss in boots movie, but something tells me you're right XD

Hmm.. I don't actually know.. That's a good question :0

I guess they would react the same if us humans found a group of people like that. And what would humans do? Probably report it to someone?? <XD

@minophlia

XDD Thank you! I'm so glad you like me and what I make!! :DDD

Giant scary abstracted monsters that attack anything in the vicinity?? Nope nope nope!! Jevil would FREAK OUT and Immediately warp them out of there with a mirror. Cant risk anyone getting hurt!

That's not a half bad idea! :0 I'll see if I can remember to get around to it <XD

Also thank you so much!! :DD

All I know of punch out is from smash bros. And I got beef with Little Mac. Anytime anyone plays as him they always kick my butt XDD

I imagine Jevil wouldn't tolerate it much. If Jax was being a butt towards Jevil that's one thing. But as soon as he starts to direct that to anyone else in the group- especially Seam.. Then there's gonna be a problem. :x

Seam would be annoyed. But its likely the same as Jevil. He doesn't really care about his antics, but as soon as its directed at Jevil or someone else.. well then there's a problem-

@abaroo

Thank you so much!! :DD And of course I held his widdle hand! He needed the emotional support! He was making the biggest decision he's ever made in his life- <XD

And you're welcome! <XD I'm so glad you liked it! :}}

No no no no that is the wrong habitat for me!

I need to be put in a cardboard box with all the flaps open except for 1. There needs to be a grassy/muddy floor and a bowl of water.

Then put this box out in your backyard in the pouring rain. Don't give me anything to warm myself, and only feed me refrigerated watermelon. Now THAT'S what I call a comfy habitat!

@multiverse-city

Thank you so much! :DD I appreciate the compliments!! :}}

Although I'm sorry to say that I don't want me and my critters to show up as background characters.. <:( Sorry!

He probably has a couple of times yeah. Maybe right after big events or shows he got pushed over the edge and crashed.. :(

He might..? But I think Freddy would want to give Bonnie space.. Becuase when Bonnie is overwhelmed, that's what he wants. Is silence and space. And when Freddy is around Bonnie he would try to be really quiet and not move around too much..

So many siblings...

My only thought is that my version of the Daycare Attendant would better fit the role of Kaufmo. :0 The idea that he suddenly disappears, only to reemerge as a monster..

That, and I would shoe horn a bunch of unnecessary angst in there XDD

:DD Thank you so much!! :}}}

WAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! Its so nice to hear that even though you knew nothing about the characters, you still loved my comic!! :DD And thinking my critters have depth?? And feel human?? WAAA THANK YOUUU!!! I try to give them all separate personality's and really put some emotion into them, I'm so glad you've noticed! It seems to be working! :DD

And again a thousand thank you's for the compliments to my sona! :DD The bloodied hands and dripping face getting worse and worse as the comic progresses to show my exhaustion,, even the comically placed hands! I put a lot of heart into all of it and I'm so happy that you've noticed!!

Thank you for all the kind words! Sending platonic love right back at ya!! :DDD 💙💙💙

@anartistwhowrites

THANK YOU!! :DDD

<XD Noooo don't cry! Thank you though, I'm glad you liked it! :))

@beryl-shade

One word; Horrified.

Aww, I'm sorry it made you cry! <:(( But I'm glad you liked it none the less! <:}}}

@badlyblurry

Darn <XD I had it match my Tumblr's theme.

@crimson-thinker

My main thing is it just feels like they "stole" what I made and drew it without asking me. And then turned around and gave it to me as a gift. Which obviously isn't what fanart actually is. But that's just how it feels.

But hey, your ask has many more reasons for me to not like fanart <XDD

The idea I had was they can use Power-Ups purely becuase they're human. Like, something about just being human gives you access to the power the Power-Ups have. .

Do you have a different idea though? I'd love to hear it! :)