#all very silly. I find the phrasing funny.. what does it mean to be a 'duckling of a woman'? and the implication that the reason his

[eyivibyemi]

✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧

[sonntam]

I don't think I've seen a write-up on various fairy-tale and Russian sayings references in the English translation, so I'd like to make one.

"Puddles make poor drinks" and "Gorkhon water will turn you into livestock": what's up with that?

There is a fairytale about a big sister and the little brother. They walk for a long time and the brother is very thirsty. His big sister keeps telling him to keep going and not to drink from the puddles, like a goat. Eventually the little brother drinks from the puddle.

And promptly turns into a goat.

Rest of the fairytale is about the big sister returning the little brother to his original form.

So, this is where the talks about puddles and water turning you into livestock is about.

The Akela joke did not work at all in the translation.

It comes from Mowgli, which is well known due to the USSR cartoon. In the book (and in the cartoon) the elderly wolf leader Akela misses during a hunt... after which he promptly is deposed as a leader of the pack. Mowgli loses his protection and this is a Big Deal.

So whenever a boss in real life makes a silly mistake (say, throwing a paperball into the bin and missing) everyone thinks it's very funny to say "Akela missed!" implying that they will get a new boss now and the current one will get deposed for this mistake.

Here "Akela never misses" means that Khan being at risk of infection and coming into the nutshell does not diminish his importance at all and his dogheads are just as loyal as before, happily delivering loot to him.

There is a saying: "Better a sparrow in hand, than a stork in the sky."

It means that you should treasure what you have, instead of preferring that which you can't get (so easily).

Lara Ravel references that she can't be happy with the little she has. She wants to help others and for this she needs more.

"Maybe I could be useful to you" is a classic thing that various animals say to people in fairytales, once they are caught and plead for their lives.

I think, this is a popular trope in English fairytales as well, but the phrasing here is lifted directly from fairytales in Russian, so pointing it out either way.

"Everyone's shirt is closer to their skin" is a well known Russian saying.

It means that your happiness and comfort is always more important to you than the comfort of other people. Hence: your shirt is closer to your skin, so you care about it more.

"Silence implies assent" is another popular saying (it even rhymes in Russian).

If someone proposes a course of action and no one speaks out against it or for it, then people usually say "silence is a sign of assent" and consider the matter settled. (Or, more often, people then suddenly say that they disagree and you get a more lively and productive conversation.)

I can't find another screenshot, but Dankovsky says something similar about "I wore down seven pairs of shoes getting to this town".

It obviously could be taken as a factual statement, but most likely it's a reference to fairytales.

In a lot of fairytales the protagonist will be given on a long journey seven pairs of iron boots. Once all of them break, the hero has reached his destination.

Same here: it's a fairytale way of saying that you had a long and arduous journey (or in Capella's case, ran around the whole town for years).

"I'll just peek with one eye" is another popular Russian phrase.

"Can I look?"

"No"

"How about if I look with just one eye?"

Obviously, it's nonsense, but it's a typical thing to say if you REALLY want to look at something, so you just say "pleeeease, I will just look only a little".

[skull001]

Something I find funny when people talk about Amy Rose's character, is how they akways follow a very predictable pattern:

"Amy back then was a stalker and useless"

"Her character is soo much better now"

"She now has a personality"

And so on.

These are just of the same phrases parroted by THOSE western fans who think that characters should be outstanding role models and not fictional people with virtues, but also flaws.

Frankly, I never understood WHY Amy in the 2000's was seen as "annoying". Either I'm very patient or those people are easily offended as they are spineless.

Or maybe it's the cultural clash between how western media sees girly girls like Amy VS how the Japanese see the same type of character.

In Japan, they aren't afraid of having feminine characters, let alone of allowing said feminine characters to do things that clash with western ideas of "that is not very lady like" or "girls shouldn't fight" and the such.

For the last years, something I never liked was seeing my favorite character be sanitized in her characterization for the sake of people who can't appreciate a good character since what they want is a safe, idealized, non-offensive take that saddly, results in Amy losing so much of what made her character fun. This approach is, if anything, the exact opposite of being "progressive", as it calls for Amy's feminine traits to be suppressed. Even Tyson Hesse has expressed in the Sonic Retro forums how writers are afraid of letting Amy express her affection for Sonic, something she used to do very openly (though understandibly childish in how she handled things, as a very young girl like her would) because of this silly fear that the western audience might be annoyed… the hell with that.

Only very recently has games like the one where the gang celebrates Amy's birthday and Sonic is "killed" or Sonic Dream Team have displayed the sassy, energic and even feisty sides of Amy's character… a character who deserves better characterizations that allows for her to be herself without writers acting like they're walking on thin ice due to a spoiled, entitled and over-sensitive western audience that hates fun.

"But we want Amy to mature…"

First, most people don't even understand what that word truly means.

Second, Amy doesn't need that. Why does she has to be the only one in the group who is not allowed to have some dumb silly fun with the boys? Especially when Amy is a mirror to a lot of things Sonic does, like loving adventures and excitement and who energy can even overwhelm him (see for example their specual victory animation in the Olympics or even as early as SA1). Like, where did people got this idea that Amy is a killjoy/partypooper who gets annoyed at the dumb boys for not being as smart as she is? That's not Amy… that's a very different character more akin to Sally, whose schtick was getting frustrated that she didn't had control.

Heck, even on the topic of Amy expressing her affection, I think the real problem is not her, but Sonic himself and the way he sometimes is written to act in ways that if not ruse, can come off as insensible towards an Amy who IMO doesn't deserve to be treated like a Meg Griffin.

That Amy is childish, bratty, sometimes a bit aggressive/hot tempered are things that balance her sweet, bubbly and compassionate side, making her feel more like a "real" person (at least within the confines of fiction). I love and adore Amy as a character with both admirable virtues as well as a flawed side that not only makes her a fun and amusing character (even when she does embarrassing things), but most importantly, it humanizes her. I don't lie when I say this: if Amy were a one-dimentional, highly idealized character who is only all-virtues with none of her flaws, I wouldn't like her at all, for that type of characters are not only impossible and unrelatable, but also come off as condescending and offer no entertainment value.

Amy is perfect by being imperfect. And both writers and audiences need to grow up and let my girl be all she can be, never again having her personality be suppressed for any reason.

[the-ghost-of-a-spirit]

Me recording thoughts on amfom

Spoilers under cut

WHAT DO U MEAN VALS IN HER 30S

IT MAKES SENSE TIMELINE WISE BUT STILL

idk whybut I don't like the fact arbiters can just take a case like that

skulduggery does not like most sensitive. Good to know

Alice goes to corrivial, I wanna know what her chosen name is

skulduggery had things to do. It's probably not important buy I'm curious

HELP

"Skulduggery slammed his fist on the desk and screamed"

Ghastly almost attacked him "your a terrible person skulduggery "

I adore their dynamic (note for me this was pg 39-40)

Ghastly didn't even know what month it is. Give this man a break

regarding paperwork "don't let the bad man scare you Valkyrie"

Also invisibility is a popular discipline

technomage is the name of the discipline

I feel like skulduggery is enjoying himself more then he should

I also think he could have been trained by Cogent Badinage

I like Winter

Ok so the pain killing leaves are called Hanna leaves.

Elysian is a very pretty name

"LGBTIQA" My guy, it's in the wrong order.

why do people keep bringing up their given name

Skulduggery doesn't know internet slang, it's funny, I need him to meet a guy who used phrases like skibidi daily (aka ppl in my class at school) , it will be funny

China is Old now

What do you mean tanith isn't the type of person who's up to date on internet things

Skulduggery has been offered therapy, he probably needs it, but the guy died

Also I don't like elysian but I like the name

skulduggery is Silly, he can deny it but its true

WAIT WAIT WAIT

ALICES IS WINTER, WAIT WHAT.

I WAS NOT EXPECRING THIS

WINTER IS SO DIFFERENT FROM PHASE 2 ALICE

I REALISED SHES A TEENAGER NOW BUT STILL

alter is trans, I like this

Also I need that gender switch

Skulduggery is not a fan of batman

People have called Skulduggery death, the grim reaper and evil personified. Movies make it better worse

What's with people getting diced and/or turning into red mist

I gotta know what these people are shouting.

desolation engine is back. I barely remember it from phase 1

I find it interesting how Valkyrie feels about how smart skulduggery is

I wonder why skulduggery is always late

this is getting dimensional

ghastly is being Questionable

skulduggery is the type of guy to know the answer to alot of oddly specific questions

He also knows lots of Facts, it's funny

I need him to answer all of vals random, rhetorical question

He also likes door handles (headcannoning he's very good at picking locks)

A while back I saw a lettuce=illuminati thing. This reminds me of that.

skulduggery proposed to his wife at 34 and married at 35

Skulduggery has embraced his inner batman

I was not expecting ersatz to be salter

I am once again saying skulduggery was trained by Cogent Badinage

Your under arrest for fashion crimes

skulduggery died in October. I think I already knew this but I'm putting here anyway

SKULDUGGERYS SECRAT WAS THE FACT HE GIT CATS. ITS CUTE AND I NEED MORW OF HIS CATS.

So the phase 3 villan is cavadar?

it would be really interesting if winter became a villan but I don't think that's going to happen.

[squidsandthings]

BIOLOGY???!!?!??!??!?

i have never not ever seen someone on tumblr with biology listed in their interests as a fellow biology enthusiast i demand to know more tell me more please

what kind of biology specifically?? or just in general?? is it like WOAH BIOLOGY or just haha yeah biology is cool ig (because if you can’t tell already i am very much the former biology is so awesome i am not okay)

it’s entomology for me, more specifically moths, like. aaaaa a a aaaaa a aaaaa i lovmnv them… moths….. i lovembe motjs…..

so yes SPILL BIOLOGY INFO PLEASE !! AND/OR ANYTJING ELSE YOU’D LIKE TO RANT ABOUT !! I DO NOT CARE I JUST LIKE RANTING WITH SILLY PEOPLE ON THIS SILLY SITE !!!

HIHI TY SO MUCH FOR THE ASK :DD

I love biology so much. Definitely a 'WOAH BIOLOGY' more than a "it's kinda cool ig" lol. The more I learn about biology and different fields in biology the more I fall in love with it. I just think learning the ways in which life, like, works (for lack of better phrasing) I dunno it's just so cool to learn about, and think about. All the little things that go into life.

I've always had a particular fascination with human biology. And specifically Anatomy and Physiology. As a like 1st or 2nd grader my mom got me a book which was basically very simplified anatomy and physiology and It became my personality till I started middle school. I think it's so neat to learn about something and that thing be something that's happening within you right now. One of my favorite things in my biology classes is doing labs/dissections because it's so cool to feel and touch and see the things which are actively keeping you alive. Also I'm a big fan of dendritic cells (my favorite cell <3).

I would say my interest in biology has definitely broadened in recent times. Recently I've been learning more about Ornithology. I'm trying starting bird watching and I generally think birds fucking cool as hell. I actually started learning more about Ornithology because I really like pigeons. And I wanted to learn more about birds in general, so I started watching yt videos about them and googling and now I can say that I think probably too much about Birds.

Interestingly marine biology used to be interest of mine, but it's never been my main love when it comes to biology. Which is funny since most of my online accounts are related to squid.

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

ANYWAY THIS IS ALL BESIDES THE POINT.

the point being this gives me and excuse to talk about my true love in life...the immune system and specifically dendritic cells. I. am. so. normal. about these antigen presenting baddies. I fuckin love them. The immune system has always been the most interesting system to me as someone who spent most of their childhood in a battle to the death with their immune system. So anyway lemme tell you about my favorite cell in the human body: Dendritic Cells/DC's

(pls note i'm by no means and expert and while I like to talk about this stuff I might get stuff wrong. I just think its all neat, but my research is mostly googling and the occasional book I find on the topic, so take all of this with a grain of salt)

So the immune system. It's pretty cool. Helps keep you alive and stuff. Roughly speaking there's two sorta categories in your immune system. Your innate and your adaptive immune system.

Innate: I like to think of the innate immune system like a safety net. Generalized, Broad, but it does what it's trying to do well. It's your first line of defense. Your skin and mucous membranes are part of this, but so are cells like macrophages which can eat pathogens. Its focused on blocking and destroying, but sometimes this doesn't work and the pathogen works too fast or goes undected for too long. Then you need something more specialized to help out.

Adaptive: This is the special ops of ur immune system. They target pathogens directly by identifying them and using that to target them. Since it needs to take the time to identify the pathogen tho, it's slower, which is why the fast but generalized innate response is also important. This part of ur immune system is also why vaccines work. Certain cells in this part of ur immune system have the ability to basically remember these past infections. So next time you get sick the adaptive response can kick in right away.

So where do dendritic cells fit into this???

IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED. So, Dendritic cells are actually kinda both part of the innate an adaptive response. How? Well, I'll tell you.

So dendritic cells hang out across ur body and act like immune system watchtowers. So when a pathogen comes strolling in looking to cause trouble ur innate immune response is going to (usually) start giving it some pushback. With things like Macrophages (that eat pathogens). But as I mentioned before the innate response while fast, is nonspecific. The adaptive response is what can target pathogens directly. But how does the adaptive response even get started? Does the innate response have something to like go tell the adaptive response "Hey this is what we're dealing with wake up and go fight it"? YES. And that's the dendritic cell.

So Dendritic cells are innate immune response cells which engulf pathogens and present them on the outside of their cell membrane. Once they've done that they can actually inform the immune response against those pathogens.

How do they do this?

Why T and B cells ofc!

So once the dendritic cell has got all the details on the pathogen it travels to ur lymph tissue and activates the adaptive immune cells there. Informing the immune response based on the antigen it's presenting.

These funky antigen presenting cells are responsible for bridging the gap between your immune responses and also help in maintaining ur immune system's memory.

alright maybe you don't see how cool they are. I get it. lemme give you an example of why they're SO important. :D

I'm going to be discussing HIV. As many people know HIV attacks the immune system. Most notably through T-Cells, but also through Dendritic Cells.

You see when the HIV virus enters the body Dendritic cells are going to usually be one of the first immune cells it interacts with. Normally the Dendritic cell would take down virus and start an adaptive immune response, however the HIV virus has a way to take over Dendritic cells using their ability to travel to cell to quickly infect the adaptive immune cells the Dendritic cell normally actives. This allows the virus to more quickly decimate an immune system. The Dendritic Cells being compromised decimating much of the adaptive immune response.

Does that example kinda highlight my point?

I hope so.

But yeah these bad boy are fucking awesome and more people should be aware of them. I think they're rad.

Hope that wasn't too long of a rant...

ty again for the ask and giving me an excuse to talk about my favorite cell. :D

[readingcauldron]

I'm currently reading Against Interpretations and Other Essays by Susan Sontag and today I read her critique of Notes and Counter Notes: Writings on the Theatre by Eugene Ionesco.

it was kind of ideal timing to read this because I've been thinking a lot about how when language becomes a habit it almost becomes meaningless--especially in terms of the sentence formulas people our age constantly use. things that started out as a funny tweet and then became a twitter trend and then incorporated themselves into our daily vocabulary--like "silly little treat" becoming "silly little (insert anything here)". the words "silly little" used to imply a lot but now they don't mean anything.  or hollywood coopting "eat the rich," or (white/nonblack) people misunderstanding the origins and depth of "karen" to render both things practically meaningless in popular culture. 

i'm trying to think of phrases that i and many other people use in our daily lives: maybe "you're in your ____ era." or maybe "liminal" or "post-ironic." i know there are better examples, i'll come back and edit this post when i think of them lol. 

there are formulas we follow to say a sentence. the "era" example is one i'm guilty of--it's an easy way to comfort a friend, to uplift them, to converse with a coworker and get a cheap laugh, to express my emotions without being vulnerable or thinking as deeply as i should about what i'm saying and how i want to say it. in short, it's an out, a mode of vulnerability-less expression. it's reflexive, empty words used to fill the space.

I don't think these things have the value that slang does, because they're so transient. by feeling meaningless within a few uses, they self-destruct, and we move on to another phrase/sentence formula that becomes meaningless then self-destructs (by becoming cringe or by nonblack people finding out it's AAVE). i could be wrong though...haven't done much research on what qualifies as slang

i think, to a certain extent, maybe it's okay if not every word someone says has meaning. maybe... but habit is so dangerous when it comes to language. "no ethical consumption under capitalism" is a good example of this. it was said so much by the wrong people that the majority of its users don't actually know what it means and it's used by nominal anti-capitalists to justify very capitalist activities. 

back to the book: "...exotic substance secreted--in a sort of trance--by interchangeable persons." this puts it into words perfectly. these phrases require no brainpower, they're practically a reflex.

so of course i had to read Ionesco's essay The Tragedy of Language, which is about his first play The Bald Sopranos, which he was inspired to write while learning English from a workbook that had him write down English sentences like "The floor is down" and "The ceiling is up."

From the essay:

So then of course I had to watch the play (links to read, watch). The conversations reminded me a lot of when I was back home and had to talk to a bunch of adults. “How curious it is! How very bizarre! What a coincidence!…but I do not believe I recall it.” Forms of expression that in their automatic usage render their content meaningless. the veneer of politeness that I often find myself trapped in—when I feel I need to be polite, and I feel my personality disappear, and with it any original language, and I default to an echo of the adults around me. The play exposes the absurdity of it all very well. 

What I love about reading nonfiction: you go from book to essay to essay to play, hardly conscious of it!

-Lizzy

[praxieserver]

This is a kind of silly one BUT like havd this cringe weird au where like cartman has another kid in post covid (I called her jane cuz she reminds me of rtc jane doe for her personality) and for some reason I see her sm with kyle's daughter (aubrey) kinda like menorah and eli and it would be so funny like cartman realizing that both of his kids are dating/have a crush on his rival's/enemie's kids but aside from that I see jane totally like freaking aubrey out and aubrey being kinda scared of her at first because she literally appeared out of nowhere all the time spooking everyone even if she doesn't mean to I feel she got curious about aubrey because observing a bit she realized they didn't seemed as bad as her dad told her,so she tries like get closer to her but accidentally spooks her a lot at first

Jane:"you know what I find kind of really super hurts?"

Aubrey:*turning around in fear* "maybe later thanks— SORRY—" *runs away*

/ref

But I see her slowly realizing that jane isn't actually as scary as she thought and slowly start spending more time together

Theres more I could say about these two but I am lazy and also dont know how to phrase everything so that's it for now!

op u need to share more rn and YOU NEED TO TELL ME IF SHE LOOKS LIKE JANE DOE FROM RID ETHE CYCLONE OR YOU HAVE DIFFERENT DRSIGN IN MIND.

I FUCK W THIS AU. I WILL DOODLE THIS AU ONCE IM NOT DEAD FROM SWIMMING TRAINING. THABK U SM FOR SHARING UR OWN SILLY AU IDEAS WITH MY SILLY AU IDEAS TO FORM A NEW, EVEN SILLIER AU IDEA.

akhdksjaja srry if this sounds rlly aggressive but wowzs!!!! im so very excited and very happy to hear more since i haven't really watched rtc in it's entirety (i just listen to the what the world needs and ballad of jane doe over and over again and watched a few funny conpilations on youtube 😭✌️), and im sure your jane's personality isnt a direct copy of jane doe rtc's personality so!!! please!!!! share!!!!

personally i see aubrey as being cautious towards jane bc her and moisha do not get along at all, and in gen the rivalry is a family wide thing, so while she's polite to the other members of the cartman family that don't bother her (totally on her own volition bc she's such a mature child and not bc her dad has severely reprimanded her for severely injuring moisha in multiple fights, no sir!) they're all on thin ice really.

so she's probably really jittery around her most of the time, but kind of has a revelation that. out of all the weird encounters she's had with jane. jane hasn't really. done anything. and decides to try talking to her and they become good friends and she adopts them into her friend group bc she's very extroverted in a female himbo kinda way. (not a bimbo. well actually ig, she's a bimbo but in a masc way. so like. girl himbo. listen she's just a dorkass kid sometimes that's all you need to know)

anyways thank u sm for sharing!!! hope to see u in my inbox again soon :DD

[vitos-ordination-song]

Having listened to interviews w David Foster Wallace and looked into what eventually gets around to happening in Infinite Jest, can I just say, he has to be one of the most insufferable authors of all time. I actually agree w him on almost everything, but god, he was so annoying with how he went about things.

The central conceit of Infinite Jest is good, but its style undermines it. For instance, the idea of a video that’s so entertaining people can’t stop watching and then die is potentially good. Could work for satire. But the book is so unbearably overwritten that every single flourish like that just becomes irritating. The “sponsored years” too—so many of these gimmicks could work for a short story, but for an incredibly long-winded and verbose book, they’re just painful. Like Kafka if he was trying to convince everyone he’s smart.

DFW was concerned about how life lived for entertainment and consumption was draining us of our humanity. I’m worried about it too. But what exactly did he accomplish with his book? I mean, no one’s gonna read it except people who already agree with him. I was also shocked to hear him say he was trying to write a “sad” book and was surprised anyone thought it was funny. The whole book feels like it’s trying desperately to be witty. Some of it actually is witty, but did he actually not know how he was coming across?

As to sad, well, I’d say there was pathos in one of the chapters I read, but that was about a throwaway character. And even that section was repetitive. DFW was good at capturing the mindset of an addict, but he did it so many times in the first 200 or so pages, with nothing new added each time, that I just got bored. Aside from that, I felt the book was devoid of feeling. It’s too up its own ass for most of the characters to feel like people.

I decided to drop it after a passage where Hal thinks about how the “defecatory posture” is “religious.” A single passage like that might be interesting or funny, but I have to stress how often quirky little musings like that were included. Nothing is ever phrased normally—it’s always trying to be as Clever and Unique as possible. Frankly my impression of DFW is that he was a pretty arrogant person who neurotically tried to pretend he wasn’t, so his writing turned into this mess of superfluous show-off moments which then undermine themselves. Frankly he should have just written a couple silly short stories or an essay and left it at that. I don’t think long-form fiction is ever good when it’s written exclusively to Make A Point About Society—there’s got to be some grounding and humanity to it.

In an interview, DFW discussed the issue of entertainment, saying that someone interested in making art these days either has to be anti-entertaining or entertaining while still critical of entertainment, which is paradoxical. He went the anti-entertainment route, which won him kudos with people who think Challenging Art is good regardless of actual quality. I can think of several auteurs who handled these issues better than DFW, though.

First is Ikuhara, who’s said that his goal is to “create a new value for entertainment.” I don’t think he set out to make avant garde anime—he just can’t help himself. He is uninterested in empty corporate entertainment. He works within the current paradigm of anime, essentially taking genres to their extreme. Rather than creating simple parodies, he instead finds the radical potential that does exist within entertainment and then uses it to create narratives about liberation from the alienation of modern society, along with other profound issues. I like Ikuhara more than DFW because, rather than self-denial, Ikuhara deals with his ego with unforced humor, acknowledging his dark side without apology. Skeptical of all human social behavior, he nonetheless also has a very earnest and authentic streak. I think that that stance is a lot more subversive than DFW’s interminable over-intellectualization and regressive ironic distance.

Another example would be Satoshi Kon’s Paranoia Agent. A lot more harsh and unforgiving than Ikuhara, Kon presents modern people as incapable of taking responsibility for anything. Immature and selfish, they entertain themselves until they reach a breaking point, at which time they explode, hoping a breakdown will get them out of all the troubles they’ve been trying to avoid. Inherent in this is self-victimization. Kon posits that some people are able to see through the system and retain a grasp on reality, but that society as a whole likely will not be able to get through the nuclear age.

I could go on about the many layers of social critique presented in the show, but that’s not really the focus of this post. I’ll finish by saying that Kon only needed 13 episodes to accomplish all this. I really question the type of artist who equates length and difficulty of parsing a story with quality. Now, I’m not saying that long and challenging stories are bad—I just don’t think they inherently make something good. Infinite Jest feels like an amalgam of writing flourishes which are considered to be elevated by today’s critics—multiple storylines, etc.—rather than a story someone wanted to tell from the bottom of their heart. Paranoia Agent is primarily social commentary, rather than straightforward narrative fiction, but it is still “entertaining”—as in, it tells a story I care about. Infinite Jest wasn’t boring, but it was annoying, because I couldn’t figure out what in the hell I’m supposed to be emotionally invested in. That’s fine for a short story, but doesn’t cut it for a novel that’s over a thousand pages long.

[bemylord]

ꜱ/ᴏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄʟɪɴɢʏ │ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴇꜱ

↳ characters: satoru, itadori, megumi, toji, nanamin, sukuna.

↳ warnings: it's fluff part, so there's no angst or hurtful things [some parts might be spicy].

↳ butler's remark: finally have dropped the last part of this angst theme.i don't know what kind of dr#gs i used when i was writing the last three.

↳ part one;

ɪᴛᴀᴅᴏʀɪ ʏᴜᴜᴊɪ:

he'd be very sad and angry at himself for screamed at you. he didn't mean to push you away because of his fatigue. as he recalled the phrase you dropped before leaving: 'i'm gonna cuddle with megumi-kun' this phrase goes on and on in his head as he runs into your room. he knocked first, hoping you're alone. he knocked again, but there's no response.

'my baby, i'm so-so-so sorry, baby.' he just jump to the bed, wrapping arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. 'no, don't cry because of me, i'm the worst boyfriend ever.' he kisses the top of your head.

yuuji will cry with you if you'd continue to sob your nose, burying your face as deep as it's possible in itadori's chest, unable to deny his necessity. he's comforting you in his arms, whispering praising phrases about you.

'i was a fool, y/n, please forgive me.'

'promise me you'll never scream at me like that.'

instead of words, but kissed your lips, nodded his head. yuuji will show his love and affection by kisses and hugs, holding you tight to keep you from running away.

'y/n, i love you.'

ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ:

you've decided not to leave but stay home, waiting as long as his malice calm down. you were waiting for him in the bedroom, still grieved by the last words. you know megumi wasn't serious - he hates being beaten up by todo or satoru, you also know that he'll be a puppy right after a bath.

he showed up in the room in the home shorts, aimlessly rubbing the back of the neck, breathing out what caught your attention.

'i shouldn't have let the anger gets the best of me, y/n.'

bruises and abrasions are coaxed on his upper body and face as it brings the pain when he sits on the bed. he again rubs the skin, nervous to ask you to heal him.

'i-i would like..'

'i'll heal you, 'gumi.'

he smiles, seeing you tenderly how you treat wounds. he thought you were going to kill him after the acuteness, but here you are, helping your lover.

'i don't deserve you y/n, you always have been so kind to me. i'm sorry for being a moron, my angel, i didn't mean it.'

you took him of guard by a quick, yet lovely kiss on the lips.

'i will make it up to you, i will change.'

ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ᴛᴏᴊɪ:

you may think it'll take days or weeks for him to the realization of what did he do. you were a naive one by leaving the gold wedding ring on the table, thought he won't notice.

'i am not a servant or errand girl, i'm his wife!'

perhaps, you thought he won't sniff as you're leaving the house, silly. he has a perfect hearing to hear where you're going and what you left.

'what a jerk i fell in love for, had the misfortune to marry that...'

'to marry that?'

he finished your sentences, turning your body by your arm.

'need a woman to meet your needs, toji? i've had enough.'

his strong arm didn't let you a chance to leave the place you stand, only pulling you by the chin to look into the loving eyes.

'fool, you're my woman, my wife, and the mother of my future children.'

'regret?' he gasped into your lips before kissing them, nibbling lightly on your lower lip.

'i'll do anything to make you forgive me. should i ea-?'

'home, toji, home!'

'by the way, if you ever take the ring off, ohh. doll~'

ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏᴜ: [i think i was h1gh, no hate on me after]

i heard about the woman that have called her boyfriend about thosand or more times, so.. it's satoru. satoru has been calling you since you've left the house, maybe, you'd pick up the phone if you weren't be fury at your boyfriend.

you were walking in the park where gojo first confessed his love. your first kiss and something more than a kiss. that place you will always remember is the tallest and oldest tree in the park. noticeable and stately. as you came to the tree you heard someone behind you.

'you knew it's my place, y/n!' what? is that a touchy voice?

'whatever i'm leaving.'

'where do ya goinnng~~'

'home.'

'fine, i'm walking home too. take you home?'

'we live in the same house.'

'that's better! wanna watch netflix and chill?'

i'd say you're mad at him, but i'll lie. he's so funny and cute, how can you resist?

'don't act like a clingy, gojo.'

'you began first. ok-ok, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry.'

you had to gag him with a kiss because he would have continued talking nonsense. acting like a child. he lifted you by the waist, kissing you and whispering sweet phrases.

'i love when you're clingy, my baby, i was- i feel so bad due to the work, my angel. soon we'll be going on the mission.'

he lowered you to the ground, kissing you on the tip of your nose.

'let's pick some flowers and make a wreath, shall we?'

'we'll get arrested.'

'you can run, y/n.'

ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ:

you were taking a bath on your own, drowning in the tears - as you've mentioned you're overly clingy and vulnerable and nanami had had known this. he knew you could be sticky when you haven't seen him in a few hours - but does it badly? he knocked twice on the door, waiting for your response.

'darling, mm-' he hesitated as if you'll reject him. 'may i come in?' you only made a quiet mumbling sound, but it was enough for him to enter the bathtub.

he took off his suit, joining you. no matter how much you try, he will see your weeping eyes.

'i shouldn't have yelled at you over a hard day. darling, come to me, tell me how your day went.'

'not before you tell me about yours.'

you sat on his lap, massaging his sturdy, tired shoulders, helping him relax.

'taking a bath like that with you after a day's work is what i like best.'

he kisses your lips as your palms still find themselves on his shoulders. anyway, nanami doesn't want his future wife to cry over him - he'll be the best husband.

ʀʏᴏᴍᴇɴ ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ:

it has been weeks since you didn't interact with the king: neither you didn't come to his domain nor answer on his questions. when his sudden mouth appeared on yuuji's cheek, asking you to immediately come to his domain, you didn't feel the need to respond sukuna, irritating him.

you were waiting 'till the king will utterly be pissed off by your behavior, taking the possession of the vessel body to finally have a conversation with you.

'y/n, do something! sukuna has been so furious that i can hardly restrain him.'

'the king wants to see the stupid girl?' you crossed arms over the chest, letting out a sigh of relief - finally. 'i'm coming, sukuna.' you touches yuuji's chest to find yourself being instantly on sukuna's lap.

'you've been ignoring me for weeks, woman.'

'i wonder why? because i'm stupid and clingy?'

sukuna pulled the loose strands of hair out of your face carefully, so as not to hurt you with a claw. he cups your cheeks, making you stare directly at him in the eyes.

'i won't say it twice, so hear me out.' he kissed your lips with fondness, which was not characteristic of him. 'i'm sorry, okay?'

from now on, you can show off that the king of curses said sorry to you. be proud of yourself, 'till his eyes are cast dark hue, palms found themselves on your hips.

'i've been alone for days and days, y/n,' you could feel something raising underneath you. 'and why through all bastards you've chosen satoru?'

someone is jealous..

however, i have a feeling that there will be some sort of sequel...

tag my cuties <3

@monisi @herhappyplace @h3artfiilia @din0plushie @giaduuh @schleepyflocci @creammy0 @rmjace @whogonprayformee @wwholesome-vibes @blacckkwiddow @sivaneeee @deepcowboywerewolf @royaltyofwinterfell @bakugo1819 @electroniclightjudgeghost @alexganes @tonks221 @spn-obession @superbheropeachtrash @strwbrry-lia @sterieshinso @daynada @butyfigers @lonely-dreamer @adorenoya @fluffymarshmellowcat @cloudsinthecosmos @itsonyxpected @itspastellemons @kingdomblvck @lovliecs @doodledee-png @neo-lucien @fl4mepillar @musichime07

↳ back to the main master list.

[undertale-data]

[Image Description: an Undertale chat box with the name "PAPYRUS", in all caps and Papyrus font, in its center. On its left is a talksprite of Papyrus sweating anxiously, and on its right is a talksprite of Papyrus wearing sunglasses. End I.D.]

The Great Papyrus is the most popular Undertale character among the fans surveyed here. 19.6% of responders chose him as their favorite. That’s a total of 519 fans! (Wowie!!)

Not all Papyrus fans are unified on his characterization, however. The most obvious divide was between fans who call him a “cinnamon roll” or “precious baby,” and those who find these takes infantilizing. A lot of people like the friendliness and optimism of this character, while others recognize this but highlight his maturity too. Fans who worry about his infantilization seem most concerned with how he can be portrayed as naive or dumb by the fandom. A portion of fans specifically mentioned this naivety as a point in his favor, though the marginally more popular take seems to be that he is not naive, regardless of how he first appears. This fandom divide seems to relate to Papyrus’s autistic or ADHD coding. Many fans relate to him as ADHD and autistic themselves.

Fans also related to him in his desire for friends. Many responders think of him as a friend and a comfort character, so at least in one way his wish has been fulfilled.

The phone calls were a major reason that fans said they felt connected to Papyrus. Thanks to these calls, he has the most dialogue of any character in the game. His humor and dialogue were often highlighted as favorite qualities.

While fans may disagree on some aspects of Papyrus’s personality, it is clear that his fans all value his optimism and kindness. His fans do not see his kindness as weakness. Many talked about the complexity of his character and the strength it took for him to show mercy to the player character, even when the player doesn’t show it in return. He believes in himself, and he believes in you! This kindness and trust has inspired his fans to be kinder themselves.

Papyrus fans were also drawn to his mysteriousness. Several responses pointed out that he is a more mysterious character than Sans, who is also often loved for his mystery. As shown in the phone calls, Papyrus will put on fronts depending on who he is around, making it even more difficult for fans to uncover his secrets. Some people in other sections of the survey found this frustrating, but Papyrus fans tend to see it as another point in his favor.

Among the greatest proportion of responses were from fans who couldn’t choose a favorite trait, or who just love everything about Papyrus. While these responses may be less lengthy, they are still as full of love as the essay-length answers. These responses tended to say phrases like “cool dude” or “Papyrus my beloved” or “THE GREAT PAPYRUS.”

(You were overcome by writing about such a handsome skeleton. He understands.)

Highlights: (under the cut)

Honestly Papyrus just feels like joy. Funny, incredibly kind, with a few mysteries/weird quirks about him that are fun to ponder over. I especially love how he often acts proud and self aggrandizing without putting others down, and in fact sometimes uses that to lift his friends up alongside him. You don't see this take on proud characters often.

Papyrus is strong. Strong in body, but also morally strong. He knows what is right, what it means to be merciful and kind, even in the face of danger or death. Some think him naive. And yet, even facing death and seeing the dust of those he knew, he did not falter or turn from his ideals of mercy and change for the better.

BECAUSE HE IS THE GREAT PAPYRUS

His optimism and his overall personality is endearing! You're always having fun with him :D

He's meeting all of my standards.

Papyrus is very under appreciated, and overlooked, and it's very frustrating to me—he's a complex character but people treat him like he's a baby!!! I like him because he's kind of goofy with how he talks and he's just very charming and kind.

He's weirder than Sans, and it wasn't acknowledged for years because he acts oblivious and dumb, even when he's clearly not. Quite frankly, I find it iconic. Also, his entire personality helps a lot.

I'm ND, trans, and projecting!

OK SO he's just a friendly guy!! A dude who likes cooking for his friends!! We love a hype man!! Also smart as hell and I feel like fanon majorly overlooks this. Making good, fun puzzles is HARD and setting up a flamethrower to go off wirelessly is complicated. Like even if that bridge puzzle didn't go off the components were complicated. Love that cool dude!!!!

I heavily relate to Papyrus as a character and consider him my favorite fictional character of all time. He is a very well-written and thought out character with several quirks and layers in his personality. It is headcanoned by some (myself included) that Papyrus may possibly be on the Autism Spectrum due to his nature, his interactions with others, and overall how he displays himself to the world we see.

I could talk about Papyrus forever, and you have made a grave mistake in allowing me to do so. He is a charming, strong spirited, well intentioned, complex character that is often wildly misinterpreted, and I think originally this is why I was drawn to him. He is presented as one thing and in fact acts as one thing (though not the same way as presented by fandom), and in reality when you look closer than you are meant to he is not, in fact, any of these things. It was intriguing to me. Secondly, and rather contradictorily, another thing that drew me to him is that he is very true to himself, when it comes to idiosyncrasies and moral values. It's true that he does not offer much in the way of personal backstory and feelings, but he offers very much indeed in the way of personality. What a guy! He wears silly crop tops and bright colors, he speaks in a manner specific to him that sometimes doesn't make sense, he cares about something or someone and goes whole hog with it -- he's passionate, damn it! I love him and his weirdo, goofy self with all my heart. He cares about other people to a fault, too. He would sacrifice everything to help someone, and his belief in the potential of both others and himself is indomitable. When faced with the responsibility of a kingdom, his friends gone, his brother lying to him, and himself all alone without a reliable support system, he recognized what he was facing and still bucked up and became determined to get through it. When faced with a murderous, over powerful enemy, someone who had killed many of his friends and fellow monsters, someone who had repeatedly been rude and borderline aggressive and showed no signs of stopping, he saw that they were having difficulty and offered to help and to care for them, and didn't regret his decision or change his opinion on what they needed and their potential for change, even when quite literally killed by them a moment after. Even in death, even directly after a betrayal like that, he never stops believing that they can get better, that anyone can be a good person if they want to be. That's important, I think; that concept of giving people the chances they need to grow and to change. I have a tattoo of that moment on my thigh, it's that important to me. I guess I really like Papyrus because even though he is fictional, watching him out there makes it easy to believe in people, in our inherent goodness and desire to love each other. He makes it easy to see that we can change, that no matter what you've done in the past or who you currently are, no one is inherently a bad person, and no one is incapable of learning how to be a good one. It is just a step by step process that we have to take day by day.

[Image Description: A wordcloud shaped like Papyrus. His gloves, boots, and cape are red; his Battle Body is blue, yellow, and white; and his bones are white. Some of the most visible words are: Kind, Love, Good, Cool, Relate, Funny, Friend, Mystery, and Papyrus. These are the words that responders mentioned most in their essays about him. End I.D.]

Read the full list of responses shared with permission by clicking this link! (The document is 25 pages long, so you may want to make a copy to prevent lagging.)

[knowlesian]

so: the closet scene! i’ve been mad at this stupid closet scene for SO LONG. i still don’t entirely know how i feel about it, to be honest. whenever i do, i find a new angle i hadn’t considered and have to think about it that way. i’ve got a couple things i’m fairly steady about and a whole heap more that sound out there even to me, because my whole brain gives up on linear thinking and goes all-in on muppet-esque leaps of logic when i try to sort out any given thought. 

i need to acknowledge the visual joke here before i even deal with taking it seriously. it’s so broad it’s like... i don’t know, a visual gag version of taking a pie to the face. this takes the implied knocking boots joke by the throat and says “i can do better.” stede 10000000% literally takes ed into his secret closet of fancy gay things. this sweet, sad little man who is so metaphorically closeted at the moment he’s in fucking narnia, is taking ed into his actual factual closet to hang out. and then they stay there even longer so they can be gay together away from izzy, #1 pooper of parties.

i mean, what am i supposed to say? that’s funny. it just is, i don’t make these rules. it’s really, really fucking funny. 

then it’s not, because oh wait: what leads up to this moment in the closet makes the obvious “hah hah, two gay dudes in maybe the gayest closet the good lord ever did make” joke into something a lot more textured. they’re very good at this! i have said it before, and i will say it again. i will meet these writers in the parking lot of a denny’s!!!! 

stede’s never been told anything he loves is right for him. none of it matters. it’s all soft and silly and frivolous and weak. worst of it: it’s fucking girly. because of some very stupid rules a bunch of dead people made up in part to make sure the generational wealth that gave stede these nice things stayed the fuck put where it was already at, he can’t get caught enjoying them or risk being shamed for it. 

there’s something really sad and complicated and fucked up about that that won’t stop eating at me. maybe it’s the way they’re digging into the complications that arise when privilege and marginalization beat in same breast, maybe it's all the juicy class stuff, maybe it’s the nodding at toxic masculinity and the way patriarchy likes to stab a knife into its own emotional guts while reaping practical/systemic benefits at once thing. (i guess if the patriarchy had emotional literacy i wouldn’t need to know the word patriarchy, because it wouldn’t be such a fucking problem! love to live in a society, i really do.) i don’t know what i think it all actually means now, but maybe someday.

what i do know is the way stede says “rather exquisite cashmere” is unfair. because that’s what it is: cashmere that is rather exquisite. he’s describing the world as he sees it, and up until now every single response he’s gotten to saying anything like that has been “fucking... christ with this one, and his gay little scarves and shit.” sometimes they phrase it more kindly, but nobody ever gets it.

so stede holds his breath there, hoping he’s not going to be mocked, but his face when it’s even better than that kills me. ed doesn’t just nod and take stede’s way of expressing himself in stride; he repeats the words back to him. he decides he likes the way they feel in his mouth, far better than izzy’s demands he stick to harsher, guttural tones.

the way this show deals with communication and words as a method of love or shelter really does kill me. the jim and olu of it all is literally always killing me softly, and this just kicks my feelings up a notch. 

on this show, to love someone is to find out you had the same words in your heart all along, you were just waiting for someone to understand them. that’s pretty fuckin’ rad.

anyway, then ed rubs the rather exquisite cashmere on his fucking face and the music gets all lighthearted and “this is the scene where they start falling in love, you know this cue, let’s ROLL, we are DOING THIS.” i mean... come ON.

and stede is so HAPPY! he loves his pretty things, his soft beds and fine fabrics, and he’s never had a single person reflect that back to him. and here ed is, not just listening, but agreeing; he does fancy a fine fabric. (the fact that at this point in the narrative stede’s self-concept is still pretty tied to his material goods and here ed is like “yes. fine fabrics. i like them. and since you feel as though your personhood is coupled with these fabrics, i also like you.” is Very Nice.)

(god, i can’t wait for s2. what's the version of this scene where stede is the one validating ed’s Whole Thing going to look like, i don’t know but god i need it.)

the little gasp stede lets out after “i think i do, yeah” is... mean. it’s mean. what if i never do anything but obsess over the little details of this insanely talented cast acting their faces off? that feels like a valid choice. the way rhys does this adorable little lean and looks like a kid about to show off his ant farm to the first person alive who also finds ants as interesting as he does, equally mean. 

and the purple shelving in the closet? FUCK THIS CREATIVE TEAM. JESUS. the use of purple as ed grows more comfortable just being ed is fucking next level.

honestly, i know this level of textual analysis isn’t for everybody and a lot of my dear, dear friends are largely like “that’s nice, sarah, we don’t give a single fuck about the use of purple” but when a show like this comes along, it feels like a sin not to appreciate all the hard work they put into the little stuff.

speaking of: time for izzy to rock up and take things into the fucking thematic stratosphere.

there’s something really fascinating to me about the casting on izzy, and the general choice to make our one Homophobic Gay the white guy who looks and acts most like the fulfillment of patriarchal power fantasies but is actually a sad little gremlin idiot who wants to fuck other men so bad it makes him look stupid. izzy never heard the good word about how you can be a monster and a lighthouse if you want, depending on the day, because as discussed: he’s from a canon where the dicks don’t touch.

less flippantly, there’s also a lot to be said about how his dynamic with ed is exploring some pretty intense thematic waters re: the intersection of race and sexuality, the long and so-very unavoidable history of white people divebombing in and fucking up indigenous cultures and their understanding of gender and sexuality with weird repressed jesus shit, and how izzy who is a white man even while being gay and ed who is not have wildly difference lived experiences of the same sexuality. i need to rewatch izzy and ed’s scenes with that in mind to sort out any more eloquent thoughts other than ‘oh shit, they went there?’ and ‘holy shit, they go HARD’. not mentioning it’s in the mix feels wrong, though, so i want to at least point it out as something the show is doing really, really well.

i like it even more because we’ve got stede and lucius and pete knocking around also being super gay white guys, so that marks izzy out as particularly in denial and out of step with the times.

the whole 'and now we’re not just checking out your fun little room, we are officially hiding in the closet from izzy’ kicks into high gear when you think about it that way. the obvious “yes, we see they’re hiding from the one character who doesn’t understand the show he's now on”, literally closeted metaphor works there, but it’s not a despairing or fearful scene.

just the phrase “in the closet” is something that brings up a lot of weird baggage for some of us in the soup, especially those who have Been Around A While; there’s a vague sensing of shaming to the way I’ve most often heard it used throughout my life. we tend to heap our scorn or pity and Hot Takes on the person still lingering behind the doorway, because they’re a coward. they’re not being authentic. they’re weak, and they’re not to be trusted. 

(and don’t even get me started on people inside our own fucking clubhouse outing people. the fact that perez hilton is still wandering around, pretending he’s all cute and refusing to reckon with the damage he did bothers me every single fucking day.)

why we do that shit to each other sometimes is a whoooooole thesis i’m in no way qualified to write, but: we do! we tear at each other, trying to yank open the door before someone else is ready.

so here these two men are, hiding in a closet; stede already spends most of his time in here, and ed doesn’t want to deal with izzy, striding around telling him it’s time to man the fuck up and Do A Toxic Pirate Masculinity. but since izzy needs ed to be the same as him so badly he’ll die trying to make it happen if he doesn’t get some fucking therapy and stop trying to enforce his rules on other people’s lives, ed hides in stede’s gay little closet with him and they enjoy the stuff they’re not supposed to enjoy, together.

i really like that. it’s not the more-familiar “it Doesn’t Matter, we are all Just People, so you should live your life in secret, being honest is shoving it in our faces so just be quiet and let us pretend you aren’t withering away” (which is the other nasty little barb we swallow on the whole scorn for the closeted thing; we don’t blame the team who built the damn house, we blame the person trapped inside it) but instead it’s allowing that sometimes you need these softer, secret spaces where people speak your love languages on instinct and you can figure out who you are while being sheltered, not locked away.

the whole “stede’s closet is accessed by a secret passage and when you think about it, this whole dumb ship is his closet, gayass unicorn and all so maybe NONE of this is happening in a closet, it’s a liminal space instead” angle feels like i’ll die if i attempt to parse it out with that spin in mind, so i’ll just say: jesus fuck. jesus fucking fuck, with this show.

[theminecraftbee]

Hey hey question: how did you learn to write character voices so well? Like. Your characterizations are always spot on (like, that mombo fic?? That was amazing, i could literally hear him saying that!! all the maneirisms!! Amazing!!) and thats like. Really hard for me for some reason. Please share the secrets to your magic words o wize wizard of the bee ;-;-;;;

okay, so the stupid answer is "practice a lot". it's stupid but it's also right - the more you write and read the better you'll get at writing. fucked up but true,

the other, probably more useful, answer is a few things.

the first thing? i start mirroring other people's speech patterns VERY quickly. (question: is this an adhd thing or is this a me thing? i have never figured out the answer to this.) i just... pick up on how other people near me talk and start mirroring it subconsciously. and i think this probably has to do with why character voices aren't normally something i have to think that hard about when writing; something in my brain seems to be wired to mirror the way people around me speak. i'll literally start thinking and dreaming in the voices of people whose videos i watch too much over time? like that's a THING I'LL NOTICE HAPPENS TO ME what the fuck

so like, in line with that, i normally check if a voice feels right to me by just... imagining that character saying it. does the version of this person that exists in my funny little voice-mimicking head sound like it would say the lines i've written? if so, then it has a good voice, but if i can't make the funny made-up person in my head say it and have it sound right, then sometimes i'll tweak it to sound better. this is easier with people i watch a lot. i flounder if it's someone whose voice i haven't heard much before, even if i've seen it in writing, because i can't make the voice go in my head if i haven't heard it out loud.

so i guess the tip from the first thing is "watch videos by the guy you're trying to write it will make it easier"

the second thing? people have a lot of vocal ticks. the more distinct someone's vocal ticks are, the easier it is to "hack" a character voice. for example, mumbo says stuff like "chuffed to bits" and has this very distinctly plain way of speaking. so what you do is you pick out some of those vocal ticks (the quick way mumbo speaks, the matter-of-fact way he phrases things, but also the silly turns of phrases he uses) and you scatter those in your dialogue. this will make the dialogue sound a lot more like that person.

the trick is that this also works in someone's internal monologue. your third-person limited narration isn't the SAME THING as dialogue, but it's a very close cousin! you can write your third-person voice like it's the voice of the person you're trying to write, but in third-person! that means you can include stuff like the vocal ticks a person uses, the unusual turns of phrase, etc, in your narration and internal monologue the same way you would dialogue. you shouldn't do it as heavily, but that lets you give a pretty distinct character voice in your narration.

note that this can make it harder to write plainer-spoken characters sometimes than characters who have a really distinct voice. (as a sidebar, this is part of why i find it fun to write mumbo; he DOES have a distinct voice, and that makes it so it's easier to mimic that!)

the final thing is just... typical prose writing tips. sometimes you're actually going for a vibe more than 'it literally sounds like the person'. what are they feeling right now? vary your sentence structure so it like, vibes with how this person is feeling in the moment. short, choppy sentences mean something different than long ones. use imagery where appropriate. think about what that character would and wouldn't notice in the moment and include that in your prose (it won't sound right if your character is oblivious like mumbo but is noticing like, fine details of how someone's emotional state is, for example). idk just like. basic characterization stuff goes a LONG way.

i don't know how helpful this is given half of it is "i hear the block men in my head" but hopefully it helps!

[waitimcomingtoo]

I Thought This Was A Closet Party

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter helps you with a favor that brings you closer than ever. Like, stuck in a closet together type of close

Masterlist

“Hello Peter.” You greeted him stiffly. “You look very sexy today.”

Peter swiveled in his chair to look at you, perched in his door way with a look on your face that he knew all too well.

“Oh God.” He groaned. “What do you want?”

“What makes you think I want something, my delectable best friend?” You asked as you walked into his room and shut the door behind you. Peter his earbuds out and looked up at you, giving you his full attention.

“Maybe because called me “delectable”.” He said pointedly and you waved your hand in dismissal.

“Haha.” You faked laughed and draped yourself over his lap, making him adjust himself in the chair to catch you. “You are just as funny as you are handsome.”

“Fake flirting?” He raised an eyebrow at you as he secured his arms around your waist to keep you from falling off the chair. “What do want? My kidney?”

“Oh, Peter. You are so silly. Your sense of humor is unmatched.” You laughed again as you patted his chest. “Have I mentioned I love this flannel? It’s so rugged and lesbian chic. You fill it out really well. Is it Gucci?”

“It’s from Goodwill and I’m not giving you anything. Flattery gets you nowhere-“

“Hold on.” You interrupted before sighing dramatically. “Sorry. I just got lost in your eyes. They remind me of the ocean.”

“My eyes are brown.” Peter shut you down instantly.

“I know. Water pollution is so devastating. I bet you could end it with just a smile and a wink.” You flirted around you walked your fingers up his chest and booped his nose.

“That’s one of the weirder come on’s I’ve heard.” He laughed at you. Even thought he knew you were only kidding, it didn’t stop his heart from pounding when you flirted with him. He did his best to keep a straight face as you toyed with the collar of his shirt. You looked up suddenly and your face softened, almost like you were being genuine for a moment.

“Your face looks scrumptious in the moonlight.” You deadpanned, making Peter groan loudly and rub his tired eyes.

“I need you to stop.” Peter whined as you laughed at yourself.

“I fantasize about us being in love to fall asleep.” You continued your charade as you wrapped your arms around his neck. That one hit a little too close to home for Peter and he blew out a breath.

“Just take it. Take my kidney. This is unbearable.”

“I really like your personality.” You tried again.

“Not gonna happen.” Peter insisted.

“You butt looks good in those jeans?” You phrased it as more of a question as you looked at him with hope.

“You got me.” He sighed. “You know my butt is a direct pathway to my heart. What do you need from me?”

You smiled with pride as you finally broke him down and climbed off his lap.

“I need an interview with Cleatus Kassidy for an article.” You told him as you clasped your hands under your chin.

“Okay.” Peter nodded. “Where is he?”

You took a step towards Peter and brushed a curl behind his ear, letting your hand rest in the back of his neck and and tangle in his curls. He knew this was just another step in your scheme to get him to help you, but he couldn’t help from leaning into your touch.

“Queensboro Correctional facility.” You said sheepishly, and Peter finally understood what all the flirtatious precautions were for.

“He’s in jail?” Peter nearly screamed when you broke the news.

“No.” You said and Peter relaxed. “He’s in prison.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Peter dismissed you and held out the scissors again. “I’d rather you take the kidney.”

“Please?” You pleaded and tilted his chin up to look at you. “I can’t be a criminal investigator without any experience and I’m already behind since my stupid professor doesn’t like me. Which is insane, by the way, since I’m adorable and charming.”

“Yeah, I cant imagine why he wouldn’t like you, you being so humble and all.” He replied. 

“Right?” You answered, unaware of his sarcasm. “I need this to prove I belong in his class. This is the break I’ve been waiting for.”

“What do you need from me?” Peter sighed. “That doesn’t mean I’m helping, I just want an estimation on how stupid this plan is before I put an offer down.”

“I need you to help me break into the prison so I can put my name in his visitors list.” You said all in one breath.

“You want to break into jail?” Peter whispered harshly so his aunt wouldn’t hear.

“No.” You said bluntly. “I want to break into prison.”

“Nope. Not happening.” Peter held up his hands in defense and swiveled back to face his desk.

“Peter, please?” You begged as you turned his chair around. “Do you understand how much this means to me?”

“And do you understand that people typically try to break out of prison? Not in?” Peter sassed you.

“But this is the only way to get on his visitors list.” You whined. “I’ve tried calling everyday for the three weeks but he keeps getting his phone privileges taken away for behavioral misconducts.”

“What kind of behavior misconducts?” Peter lowered his eyebrows skeptically. You looked down at your hands and timidly picked at your chipping nail polish.

“The stabbing kind.” You mumbled and Peters jaw dropped.

“That’s a bad kind!” He exclaimed.

“But no one ever finds a knife!” You retorted. “The victims always have deep puncture wounds but no knife. And the guards once found bite marks.”

“Oh, great. So he takes a little nibble after puncturing his victims.” Peter clasped his hands together on his lap. “Can’t wait to meet him. Should I bake him some cornbread as a gift?”

“That’d be nice.” You ignored his sarcasm and answered honestly.

“I was being sarcastic.” Peter snapped and got out of his chair.

“Good for you!” You said back. “No one investigated the bite marks even though they didn’t match Cleatus’s dental records. Not to mention, his MO has completely changed since getting into prison. He used to go after blonde women in their 40’s-

“Karen’s.” Peter cut in.

“Exactly.” You nodded. “And now he goes after men who are in for non violent crimes with no previous records. Something weird is going and no one is investigating it. That’s why I need to get in there and see what’s up but I need your help to do that. You owe me since you got me thinking about how much I want cornbread.”

Peter leaned on his hand and stared at you, trying to decipher his next move. You folded your arms and stared back, trying to look serious.

“People are dying, Peter.” You said softly, making him sigh.

“I also want cornbread.” He said quietly as he kept his gaze down.

“Peter, I will bake you all the cornbread you can eat until you’re too heavy to swing from your webs if you help me.” You told him as you sat back on his lap. Peter squeezed your hip gently and pursed his lips.

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “We could get in a lot of trouble.”

“Your ass is bigger than Captain America’s.” You started up again with the compliments, making a smile tug at Peters lips. 

“I’m in.”

“Yay! Thank you so much.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “When I win the Pulitzer Prize for my work you’ll be the first one I thank.”

“All right, all right.” Peter chuckled softly as he rubbed your back. “What’s the first step of the plan?”

“You have your suit, so it’s only fair I get a disguise of my own.” You began.

“Does that mean...”

“Yep.” You smiled. “Road trip to Goodwill.”

“You treat me so well.” Peter beamed.

~

A day later, you stood outside Queensboro Correctional facility in a makeshift guard next to Peter in his Spiderman suit.

“This is it?” Peter asked as he looked at the building. It’s height alone made him feel small, and the fact he was the reason a few of those inmates were in there didn’t make him feel any better.

“This is it.” You confirmed as you adjusted your tie.

“How do we get in?” Peter looked to you.

“The computer room is the only one with a window that opens since you need a key to get in. It locks automatically so you have to stay there while I do my part of the plan. Once my name is on the list, we can meet back at the computer room.”

“And then we get cornbread?” Peter asked.

“And then we get cornbread.” You nodded.

“Awesome. You ready?”

“Ready.” You secured yourself to Peters side but stopped him before he could swing away. “Oh wait. Hang on.” You took out your phone and quickly dialed a number.

“Who are you calling?” Peter wondered as you held your phone to your ear.

“Remember that thing we talked about? Awesome. Yeah, you can do it now.” You said into the phone as you looked to the sky. Right as Peter looked up in the same direction, a hot blue lightning rod struck the power lines, sending a wave of sparks to rain down. The lights inside the prison flickered for a moment before coming back on.

“You got Thor involved?” Peter asked in shock.

“I needed him to knock out the security cameras so we didn’t get caught.” You shrugged. “Unless, of course, you wanted to join Cleatus in there.”

“Just grab on.” Peter huffed and wrapped his arm around your waist. He shot a web towards the fifth floor and swung you up there with ease. He stuck to the side of the building as he opened the window, pushing you inside before going in himself.

“You didn’t have to roll me in like I’m a bowling ball.” You grumbled as you dusted yourself off.

“You’re just mad because I always beat you at Wii bowling.” Peter shrugged as he brushed some dust off your shoulder.

“Okay, but which one of us cried because they lost at Wii tennis last week?” You asked as you peered out the window in the door for any guards.

“Me, but I wasn’t crying because I lost.” Peter insisted.

“Sure you weren't.” You quipped as you fixed your uniform.

“You hit me in the face with your controller!” Peter whispered harshly, not wanting to alert anyone to his presence.

“The past can hurt us, but we have to chose to run from it or learn from it.” You said causally as you continued to look out the window.

“Do not quote Lion King right now, I swear to God.” Peter grumbled as he took a seat at one of the computers.

“You’re not being very Hakuna matata right now.” You said quietly and Peter glared at you, piercing you through his mask.

“I just feel like you’re being a little too slimy and not enough satisfying.” You added and he balled his hands into a fist.

“We are in a correctional facility right now and unless you’d like to write your next exposition from a cell in a women’s prison, I suggest you get on with your part of the plan.” Peter said with superficial calmness.

“Right. Sorry. I’ll go find a guard.” You hung your head in shame and left the room. You tried to blend in as you walked through the halls, smiling tightly at any guards you passed. Coming behind a corner, you found a single guard by an open window and took the next step of the plan. You ducked behind the wall and held your fingers against the intercom in your ear.

“Eagle 1, do you copy? Eagle 1, over.” You whispered.

“Who’s Eagle 1? Don’t even tell me you got Sam in on the plan.” Peters voice filled your ear.

“You’re Eagle 1!” You whispered abrasively. “We can’t have a heist without code names.”

“I’m thinking of a lot of code names I’d like you call you right now.” Peter mumbled.

“Are you in position?” You asked him.

“Yes, I am in position.” Peter confirmed as he stuck to the side of the building.

“I found a guard.” You told him. “I’m on the west side of the fifth floor. Do you see me?”

“I see you.” Peter responded.

“Okay. Do your thing.”

You watched Peter swing back and forth between the buildings outside of the window where you were positioned. When the guard didn’t look up, you had to step in.

“Wow! Is that Spider-Man?” You asked dramatically as you came around the corner. The guard barely glanced up at the window and looked at you.

“Yeah.” He sighed.

“That’s so cool. He’s like a celebrity.” You gushed.

“Yeah.” He said again.

“Boy, wouldn’t it be awesome to get a picture with him? You’d be the coolest guy ever if you could get a picture.” You forced a laugh, beginning to panic when the guard wasn’t responding the way you hoped.

“Eh.” He shrugged unenthusiastically.

“Why don’t you give me your phone and I’ll take your picture? I’m sure Spiderman wouldn’t mind.” You looked at Peter and gave him a thumbs up, which he reciprocated.

“Meh.” He said and began to walk away, making your heart race with fear.

“Okay, um, wait!” You called after him, still needing the code from him.

“What?” He turned around, growing frustrated with you. Your eyes darted across his face before landing on his name tag.

“Sebastian.” You faked a smile. “I really need to get onto one of the computers but I left my phone as home. Do you think you could tell me the passcode?”

Sebastian cocked his head to the side and looked at you sideways for a moment, making you shift uncomfortably. You were sure you were caught just from his look.

“Where’s your name tag?” He questioned. You looked down at where your name tag should be and gulped. The uniform was pretty easy to make out of miscellaneous items from Goodwill, but you’d forgotten about a name tag.

“An inmate…swallowed it.” You lied, hoping he would somehow believe you with your pithy excuse.

“Which inmate?” Sebastian asked, making you suck in a breath. You raked your brain for the most generic name you could think of.

“Josh?” It came out as more of question as a bead of sweat rolled down your forehead. To your surprise, Sebastians face softened and he let out a laugh.

“Damn. That is so Josh.” He chuckled. “The code is 877-393-4448. If you talk to Sheila at the front desk, she can get you another name tag. This is the ninth one Josh has swallowed.”

You gave Sebastian a gentle smile, surprised he was so eager to help you.

“Thank you.” You said sincerely. Sebastian nodded and returned the smile.

“And between you and me, Captain America is way cooler.” He said behind his hand, like it was a secret.

“Totally.” You laughed before he walked away.

“I heard that.” Peter grumbled into your intercom.

“I was just playing along to keep my cover.” You defended yourself as you wrote the code down in your notes.

“Eagle 1, the recipe has been downloaded. I repeat, the recipe had been downloaded.” You whispered so only Peter could hear.

“What recipe?”

“The code!” You almost yelled. “I got the code, you ninny. Are you back in the computer room?”

“I just got in.” He told you.

“Okay. I’m texting you the code. Tell me when you get it.”

“I got it.” He confirmed.

“Go to inmate information.” You walked him through the steps.

“Yep.”

“Find inmate 24601.” You said, Cleatus’s number.

“Getting scared at how much you know about the prison computer system.” Peter laughed nervously as he did what you asked.

“Go to visitors.” You ignored his comment.

“Okay.”

“And put my full name.” You instructed. Your heart raced as you waited for him to complete the most important part of the plan.

“You’re on.” Peter told you, making you sigh in relief.

“Yes! I love you.” You cheered. “You’re the best best friend in the world.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Peter said quietly, still reeling from you saying you loved him.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” You gushed as you walked back towards the computer room. You were flooded with excitement and appreciation for Peter that was pouring out of you.

“And Thor, apparently.” He commented as he got out of the computer chair.

“Shut up.” You teased. “All we need to do now is get out of here without being seen. Think you can do that?”

“You’re talking to Spiderman, baby.” Peter quipped. “I can do anything.”

“Except put the toilet seat down after using it, apparently.” You shrugged, biting your tongue so you wouldn’t laugh as you passed a guard.

“I told you I was sorry for that.”

“Do you know what it’s like to fall into a toilet, Peter?” You asked him. “My knees hit my shoulders.”

“I think you’re being a little dramatic.” He insisted.

“I could’ve drowned.” You snapped as you came around a corner. Your eyes widened in shock as Peter, still in his suit, met you in the hallway.

“Could you really, though?” He sassed as he approached you. Your throat went dry at the sight of him and you struggled to find the words to say.

“What are you doing here?” You whispered as you pulled him back around the corner.

“Oh, didn’t you hear? We broke in. You know, like a crime.” Peter said casually, making you groan loudly.

“Do not rehash John Mulaney jokes right now.” You demanded. “Why are you here? You left the computer room?”

“You said we were gonna meet up.” He said, beginning to see how panicked you were.

“Yes! Inside the computer room! So we can escape out the window.” You had to keep yourself from yelling so you frantically paced back and forth. There was no explanation for why or how Spider-Man was inside the prison and all it would take was a quick search of your name to reveal you didn’t actually work there.

“All right, so we’ll just go back in there.” Peter said calmly, trying to address the situation.

“We can’t just go back in there. It locks automatically.” You told him. “That’s why you were supposed to wait in there to let me in.”

“Oh.” Peter said meekly.

“Yeah. Oh.” You poked him angrily.

“What do we do now?” He asked, his panic levels rising to match your own. You opened your mouth to speak until the sound of keys jingling caught your attention.

“Wait, someone’s coming. We can’t get caught.” You gripped his shoulders and looked at him in fear.

“What’s the big deal? You have your guard costume on. Plus, everyone love the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” Peter tried to calm you down but it only made you worse.

“Unless you want to become the friendly cell block inmate, we need to hide.” You whispered as you looked around. You spotted a janitors closet down the hall and tugged Peter towards it. “Get in here.”

You scrambled inside the closet, not realizing how cramped it would be with two people and a prisons worth of cleaning supplies. Your back was pressed against shelves and the front of you was pressed against Peter, someone he wasn’t complaining about. You rested your hands on his chest and looked through the slits in the door vent as Sebastian walked by the closet.

“He looks mean.” Peter gulped. “He looks like a biter.”

“Don’t judge him.” You whispered. “He was actually very nice to me.”

“Why are you getting friendly with the correctional officers?” Peter looked down at you, feeling a familiar sense of jealously bubble in his tummy.

“Why are you so doo doo at following directions?” You shot back.

“Your adjectives never fail to blow my mind.” Peter shook his head as he slipped his mask off.

“yOuR aDjeCtiVes nEVer fAil”, you mimicked his voice as you moved your hand like a puppet, “yeah okay School House Rock.”

“Keep it coming with the obscure references.” Peter leaned closer to taunt you. “Keep it coming please.”

You continued to berate Peter until his attention snapped towards the door and he put a gloved hand over your mouth.

“Wait, shhh!” He silenced you as he squinted through the vents in the door.

“Ew. When was the last time you washed your hands? We’re in a prison! You touched the doorknobs.” You grimaced as your took his hand off your mouth.

“You don’t like my doorknob hands? You don’t like my grimy doorknobs hands?” Peter asked as he rubbed his hands all over your face while you gagged.

“Might I remind you our personal freedoms are at stake? Do you want to go to jail?” You asked as you held his hands tightly in place to keep them off of you. Peter looked down guilty when he remembered where you were and put his hands down.

“I’ll be quiet.” He said sheepishly. You both stood in silence as another guard walked by, the only sounds coming from your heartbeats. Being this close to you was one thing, but Peters heightened senses was giving him gateway to a whole other experience. He could literally smell your fear, as well as your strawberry shampoo.

“I cannot believe we’re hiding in a supply closet.” He laughed a little to distract himself. “What’s next, we’re forced to share a bed?”

“I know. Or like, my mom can’t pay the bills so she sells me to your family.” You added, laughing along with him until you heard footsteps. “Oh, shh.”

You pressed yourself even closer to Peter as a group of guards walked past, trying to breathe as quietly as possible so they didn’t hear you. Peters has tightened with you this close, placing his hand on the small of your back to keep you in place. Your ear was flush against his heartbeat and you could hear it beating like a drum as you clung to him for safety.

“This is ridiculous. I am never going along with one of your plans again. They always put us in the most uncomfortable positions.” Peter grumbled, trying to act like having you this close wasn’t the greatest thing to happen to him.

“No they don’t.” You scoffed and continued to look out the vents for guards.

“Remember your fantastic movie night plan when you convinced me to watch 365 Days? How did that turn out, huh?” He reminded you making your whole face go white as you remembered that movie.

“I don’t want to talk about that.” You avoided his eyes as your cheeks flamed.

“Exactly.” Peter argued. “We couldn’t even look at each other. We were too frozen from shock to turn it off.”

“Every time I hear the word “boat” I get flashbacks.” You shuddered.

“Okay let’s not talk about the boat scene when we’re this close.” Peter squeezed his eyes shut to keep himself calm.

All of him.

“Why?” You asked curiously, not understanding what was going through Peters mind.

“I’m gonna shish kebab you, that’s why.” Peter said with embarrassment, suddenly wishing he had left the mask on to keep you from seeing how flushed he was. The wheels turned in your brain and a sheepish smile came on your face as you realized what he was worried about. You opened your mouth to speak but quickly shut it when a janitor and a guard stopped outside your closet.

“Kassidy again? What now?” The janitor asked with a sigh. You listened closely as you clung to Peter. He could barely focus on the conversation as your heartbeat fell into rhythm with him.

“Another stabbing.” The guard said. “If this guy gets one more shot, he’s getting moved to max.”

“All right. I’ll grab a mop.” The janitor said, making you and Peter look at each other in a panic.

“Shit.” You whispered with wide eyes.

“What?” Peter asked.

“Either you’re shish kebab-ing me from the back or the mop he’s looking for is right behind me.” You explained. Peter peered behind you and saw the handle of a mop leaning against the shelves and felt his heart race.

“Oh God. I can’t go to prison! I’m too soft and wholesome.” Peter began to freak out, feeling his forehead drip with sweat.

“Yeah, I hear that defense works really well in court.” You said sarcastically.

“Do not sass me, woman! This is your fault!” He exclaimed and you knew he was right. It was your fault.

“Let’s not play the blame game.” You said timidly. “And calling me “woman” like that is demeaning.”

“I know. Sorry women.” Peter said sincerely as he looked up. You looked up too but saw nothing but a water stain.

“Who are you apologizing to?” You asked.

“Captain Marvel.” He said sheepishly.

“What are we gonna do? We can’t get caught.” You whined quietly as you anxiously clutched Peters arms. Peter cleared his throat as another wave of your shampoo was scent his way.

“On the one hand, we could explain to them what we’re doing here and hope they have a sense of humor and sympathy for college students.” Peter chuckled shortly. “On the other hand, you smell like strawberries.”

“Wait, shh.” You stepped even closer to him when the janitor came closer to the closet door.

“Come here.” Peter said as he turned you around. He wrapped his arm firmly around your shoulders and held you flushed against himself as the janitor opened the door. You both held your breath and you pressed your back as close to Peters chest as you possibly could as the janitor grabbed the mop you were previously leaning against and left the closet. You waited a few seconds before sighing in relief, staying in Peters arms as you relaxed.

“I cannot believe that worked.” You breathed, still scared to talk too loudly in case he came back.

“I know. My friend Drax taught me how to do it. If you stand perfectly still, you become invisible to the human eye.” Peter spoke in a hushed tone as he panted.

“Wow.” You swallowed, your mouth having gone dry from fear.

“I know.” Peter nodded, resting his chin on top of your head. You had finally collected yourself when you felt something pressed against your leg.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Am I leaning on another mop?”

More silence filled the closet as that something continued to press against you.

“I wish I could say yes.” Peter said after a minute. You hung your head and tried to keep your laughter to yourself.

“Oh my God.” You sputtered. “Peter!”

“I’m sorry.” He said sincerely. “I have no control over him.”

“Him?!” You craned your neck to look at him in shock.

“If you must know, I call him Samuel L. Jackson.” Peter said sheepishly.

“Why?” You looked at him over your shoulder and he looked down in shame.

“Because he’s in everything.” Peter admitted, making you look up at the ceiling and count to ten in your head.

“You belong here.” You nodded. “You belong in prison.”

“I’m sorry!” Peter exclaimed. “Don’t get mad at me. It’ll only make it worse.”

“Everything I’m learning about you right now is against my will.” You grimaced.

“Wait, Karen isn’t picking up any heat signatures near us.” Peter said as he slipped his mask back on.

“Now he changes the subject.” You muttered to yourself.

“The coast is clear. We gotta go.” Peter scooped you up and opened the closet door. “And I’m not waiting for your little slow ass.”

“This is not how I imagined my Saturday.” You commented as Peter carried you back to the computer room as fast as he could.

“That makes three of us.” Peter said as he rounded the corner.

“Three?”

“Can’t forget about Samuel.” He gulped, knowing you’d get mad at him for what he said. You shook your head as he set you down in front of the the computer room door.

“We can’t go out this way. The door is locked, remember?” You put your hands on your hips and looked at him.

“Maybe, but it won’t be unlocked when we use this key I stole from the janitor.” Peter said as he smugly held up a key. “Even has a cute little label on it that says ‘computer room.’ How convenient.”

A smile lit up your face as you took the key from him, wasting no time in unlocking the door and pulled him inside. Once you were hidden from view, you pulled him into a long hug.

“I’m glad you came along.” You murmured in his ear. Peter smiled as he hugged you back, nuzzling into your hair. “Lets go.”

Two hours later, you were back in Peters apartment in your regular clothes. Peter could hear you talking on the phone after you stepped out take a call. After all the romantic moments, he really didn’t want to go back to being just friends.

Peter snapped out of his trance when you came back from his balcony, a giddy smile on your face.

“I just got off the phone with Queensboro.” You beamed. “I have a 2 pm appointment tomorrow with Cleatus.”

You punctuated your sentence by breaking out in a happy dance, grabbing Peters hand and twirling yourself with it.

“So our little plan worked.” He chuckled as you moved back and forth, dancing to music that wasn’t there.

“Couldn’t have done it without you.” You said as you took your head off his shoulder to look at him fondly. “Love you.”

“Ew. Whatever.” Peter pretended to gag to distract from his blush.

“You know”, you smiled coyly at Peter, “I’m gonna be pretty hungry after my interview tomorrow. All that criminal investigating is sure to work up an appetite.”

“I’m sure it will.” He responded, not knowing where you were going with that statement. You rested your head back on his shoulder as you continued to sway.

“Maybe you can take me on that date you’ve been dying to ask me on.”

Tag List 🏷

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[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (v)

word count: 4.6k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of poor parenting and damaged familial relationships

series masterpost: here

a/n: and just like that we're halfway through!!! it's crazy to think about it. however, lots happens in this chapter so buckle up peeps

Soon Magdalene’s feelings are going to get the better of her.

She knows she’s heading down a dangerous path but she can’t help it. Ryan is like a drug she can’t get enough of even though she knows it will hurt her in the long run. Living with him has opened her up to the laid back, intelligent, incredibly funny man he is and Magdalene doesn’t know how she’s ever going to function in her own space ever again. They complement each other like two peas in a pod, and everyone else is starting to catch on to the shift in their relationship.

“When are you going to fess up to Ryan about your feelings?” Bette asks as the two of them sit on the lawn across from the university library. It’s mid October, but the weather is still warm enough that Magdalene eats her lunch outside. Her best friend decided to join her today, no doubt knowing that she’s feeling a little lonely. The Avalanche are in the middle of their season opening road trip and have been gone for nearly five days. Ryan’s condo feels empty without him in it, and Magdalene misses him an unfathomable amount.

“Never, if I can help it,” she replies casually, taking a bite of the turkey wrap that Bette brought her from Barn Owl.

The blonde scoffs. “Fuck off. You have to. What are you going to do when he gets back from Florida and you tackle him as soon as he steps through the door.”

“Caligula will get there first,” Magdalene shrugs. “Those two are thick as thieves.”

Truthfully, Magdalene wasn’t sure what she was going to do. This is the longest they’ve been separated since she moved in and it’s proving to be a harder adjustment than she thought. Magdalene feels a little silly missing him so much – she went nearly twenty-six years without knowing Ryan but now he’s imprinted on her soul for the rest of eternity. Living without him seems impossible.

Bette drops the conversation then, almost as if she knows Magdalene is in her own world thinking about what to do. She mentions the upcoming home opener and her plans to attend with a couple of the other wives and girlfriends. “We’re going out beforehand and you should join us! I really think you’d like most of them.”

The bell in the clock tower rings, signalling the start of another hour, and Magdalene promises she’ll consider the offer as they pack up the picnic and say goodbye. It’s a short walk back to the building she works in, seeing as they were only across the street, but it takes a while for the elevator to come around. Magdalene could have taken the stairs down to the basement but they scare her a lot more than she’d like to admit. Hopefully June won’t mind her being a few minutes late.

Her boss doesn’t look too pleased when Magdalene strolls through the door almost seven minutes later then she should have, but as soon as she tosses the cookie Bette brought her in June’s direction all is forgiven. They work in near silence all afternoon, background noise provided by the small stereo in the corner and their respective grunts of frustration when an image doesn’t digitize properly. The university has finally decided to undertake the massive project of making all their school records available to the public online, and Magdalene and June are in charge of getting all the files ready before sending them to IT for installation into the website. It’s a huge task and is going to take them the better part of a month and a half to finish. Magdalene spends the rest of her work day finishing up a box of graduation records from the 1870s and leaves smelling of very old paper.

On the drive home she considers the invitation Bette extended to her. Magdalene knows she’ll be attending the game, having promised Ryan before he left that she’d be there, but she doesn’t know how to feel about going out for dinner and drink beforehand – especially with people so involved with the team. She isn’t like them, in nearly every sense of the phrase, and doesn’t want people to get the wrong idea. It wouldn’t be fair to Ryan for people to assume they’re together in case he ever does want to bring someone around, but Magdalene can’t help thinking that the speculation wouldn’t hurt. Perhaps it would be the clue that shows him how she feels.

The invite stays in the back of her brain while she heats up leftovers and eats quickly, knowing that Ryan will call soon. He’s like clockwork with his precise game day routine, and he always calls shortly after four o’clock when out east. Magdalene’s phone buzzes from the spot beside her on the couch and she quickly scoops it up and accepts the call.

“Hey,” she says, a little breathless because she’s so excited to talk to him.

“Hey yourself. How was work?” Magdalene can tell Ryan’s got a smile on his face even though she can’t see him. She indulges the question, telling him all about the stuff she digitized and what’s next. Though she always tries to get out of talking about work, fearing it will bore the daylights out of him, Ryan insists on hearing every detail Magdalene wants to share. He finds it all fascinating and tells her so every chance he gets. During her monologue Caligula wanders over and becomes extremely invested after he hears Ryan laugh at something Magdalene said. The small white cat jumps onto Magdalene’s lap and tries to paw the phone away from her ear.

“Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker. Little boots would like to talk.”

At the sound of Ryan’s greeting, Caligula starts meowing up a storm. It’s as though he’s actually holding a conversation with the man, waiting for Ryan to say something before he continues to make noise. Magdalene laughs through what could barely classify as a conversation until the cat gives her space to talk again.

“So,” she says, drawing out the word in an attempt to make Ryan laugh. “Bette asked me to join her and some of the other girls for drinks before Friday’s game.”

Ryan’s responding before Magdalene has finished uttering the last words. “That’s great! I think you should go.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says sheepishly, “It would be nice for you to know someone other than Bette.”

Magdalene is surprised at the response, but tries her hardest to keep her tone light and teasing. “Why, you plan on keeping me around Mr. Graves?” She can tell Ryan is struggling to come up with an answer because there’s a fair amount of sputtering on the other end of the line.

“I’d be stupid to let you go.”

All the breath in Magdalene’s lungs escapes her. She didn’t expect him to say something like that, and it sends her mind reeling. What does he mean? Unable to process the comment, Magdalene makes up an excuse and hangs up as quickly as possible. She spends the rest of the night wondering if Ryan was trying to make a move and deciding how she should handle his homecoming in a few days.

☼☼☼☼

When Ryan gets home Thursday morning Magdalene is at work. Caligula is happy to see him, practically pouncing on him and purring so loud Ryan’s sure the neighbours heard the cat. For an animal so small, Caligula can make a lot of noise if he wants.

“Hi boy,” Ryan coos, adjusting his grip on the cat so he doesn’t get dropped while the two of them move around the house. “Did your mom talk about me while I was gone? Been thinking about her a lot lately.”

The cat doesn’t respond, of course, but Ryan finds comfort in vocalizing his emotions. Multiple times on the road trip Tyson made fun of him for the silent pining he’s found himself participating in since Magdalene moved in, and hinted that she might have said something to Bette. Neither of them are great at keeping secrets, but Ryan also knows they want him and Magdalene to get together and aren’t above manipulation to achieve their goals. He doesn’t know how Magdalene actually feels, but Ryan isn’t willing to risk losing their friendship. Just a couple of months ago she sat on the deck of the lake house and told him she wasn’t looking for a relationship – he has to assume that’s still her position because if he doesn’t Ryan isn’t quite sure what he’ll unleash. Though the two of them are close, closer than most friends, Magdalene stills keeps a lot of things to herself and Ryan doesn’t want to pry. When, and if, she’s ready he knows she’ll come to him.

Exhausted from the countless hours of travel he’s endured over the past few days and the pains that come along with being a professional athlete, Ryan falls back onto the couch cushions. He hurts in places he didn’t know existed and wants to do nothing but sleep. Caligula settles into his stomach, purring contently, and though he knows he should unpack his gear, Ryan can’t find the energy to move himself or the cat. Everything will still be there when he wakes up, and hopefully Magdalene will be on her way home. She texted Ryan earlier in the morning, no doubt just before she headed out the door, to say that she was taking some holidays to have a long weekend and would be home around noon. Sleep comes easy with Caligula nestled against his body, and Ryan dreams of Magdalene as he frequently does.

☼☼☼☼

Despite Bette telling her countless times she shouldn’t be, Magdalene is nervous. The significant others of the Colorado Avalanche are a tight knit group and are very particular with who they let in. Magdalene is a nothing, has no true connections to the team besides being Tyson’s girlfriend’s best friend, and she’s worried she won’t make the cut. If it wasn’t for Bette picking her up in the morning Magdalene would have found a way to get out of drinks, but the blonde made sure she couldn’t make a run for it.

Sitting in the elevated booth, she not-so-casually sips her glass of wine while Bette tries to calm her down. “They’re going to hate me,” she groans, lowering her head to rest it on the table.

“Shut the fuck up,” Bette counters. “You literally know most of them, and Livy will be here if you get too uncomfortable, but most of them were at EJ’s back in May.”

Magdalene can’t argue with the truth, so she rolls her eyes and finishes her drink. By the time she flags down the waiter for a refill the other girls have arrived. They take turns hugging Bette and shuffling into their seats. Magdalene feels awkward with no one acknowledging her, but she does her best to buck up and deal with it. It means a lot to Bette, and Ryan, that she’s here trying to make friends so she’ll at least make an effort.

A blonde who looks a little older than the rest addresses her first. “I’m not sure if you remember me, but I’m Mel. I think we met last season at a game.”

It takes Magdalene a second to recall the face, but then she recognizes Mel as the person who alerted her to the fight Ryan got into to defend Tyson. “Oh yeah,” she chuckles, though it’s still got a nervous quality, “You’re the one who was yelling about Ryan’s fight.”

Everyone looks at her like Magdalene had confessed to seeing a ghost. “What’s the matter?”

“No one ever calls him that,” a petite girl with tight curls explains. “We all just call him Gravy.”

“Oh.”

Magdalene isn’t sure what the comment is supposed to mean, or if it even meant anything at all, but she does her best to push it aside because Livy is trying to catch up with her. The rest of the outing goes well – Magdalene keeps quiet until someone gives an inaccurate analogy about Rome and she has to correct them. It may make her seem stuck up, but she really hates when people spread misinformation. Everyone laughs, and after that it’s hard for Magdalene to stay silent. She talks about work and college, but when someone asks about home she shuts down. Bette notices the shift in her behaviour before Magdalene’s face has even dropped, and shifts the conversation in another direction. Soon it’s a respectable time to head to the arena and they all pay their tabs, Magdalene going first and then ducking out of the bar that became crowded while they were sitting down.

The fresh air feels good against her skin, and she takes the time alone to regulate her thoughts. There’s still several hours until she can return home and cry in the shower over the mention of her family so it’s important to present a calm facade. Bette comes out slightly ahead of the other girls and checks in with her friend, but Magdalene assures her she’s okay. It was a bit of a spook, but the other girls have no idea about how fucked up her familial situation is so Magdalene can’t hold it against them. The arena is a few blocks over, so the group walks towards it at a brisk pace. Magdalene’s mind is still churning from the bar when they step inside, so she peels off from the rest of the group. Warm ups are about to start and she knows that seeing Ryan will help to calm her down, at least until they can go home and she can sequester herself away from the rest of the world.

She finds a space against the glass and strains her eyes for her new favourite number. Ryan hasn’t made it out on the ice yet, but Tyson gives her a big wave when he skates past. It takes a few seconds, though it feels like years, but Ryan eventually steps out, all long limbs and hair and dazzling smile as his teammates give him big hi-fives. Magdalene doesn’t want to intrude but she needs to spend a few moments with him to feel completely present. When he skates by she waves shyly, and Ryan doubles back once he realizes who it is.

“There’s my favourite girl!” he shouts over the crowd, making sure Magdalene can hear.

The phrase brings a smile to her face, which in turn makes Ryan light up more. “Hi Ry,” she yells back. “I just wanted to come and say hi.”

Ryan’s heart warms at her words, but he knows that’s not the only reason. He’s lived with her long enough to know that something is bothering her but he isn’t going to push. There isn’t much time to have a conversation, so Ryan takes the time to make plans for after the game. “You riding home with me?”

Magdalene nods. “Yeah. Bette picked me up this morning so I didn’t drive.”

The loud sound of sticks clapping against the ice startles them both, and it’s Ryan’s teammate’s way of getting him to refocus. Magdalene says goodbye and before Ryan heads back to the bench he flips a puck over the glass for her. She smiles brightly, and watches him skate away. On her way up the stairs she hands it to a little girl wearing a much too big Graves jersey. It makes her night, and Magdalene returns to the private box she’s watching the game from feeling much lighter than when she entered the arena.

☼☼☼☼

Later, much later, after all of Ryan’s post game media and sitting through the traffic of downtown, Magdalene opens up about what was bothering her at the arena. The two of them are curled up in Ryan’s bed buried under a mass of blankets with several pillows strewn about. It’s become a frequent place for them to spend time, and every time they lay down Magdalene rests her head on Ryan’s chest and he keeps her in place with his arms wrapped tightly around her. Magdalene’s clutching his hoodie tighter than usual, her voice small as she speaks into the darkness of the room.

“I didn’t just want to say hi earlier.”

Ryan isn’t surprised by her confession, but wants to know what caused the surprise visit. “No? What was it?”

Magdalene lift head and shifts to face him, propping herself up with an open palm. “It’s kind of stupid,” she mumbles, feeling dumb for even bringing it up. Ryan doesn’t want to know the sob story that is her past life. “But it’s mostly okay now.”

“You don’t have to tell me, and I don’t want to push, but I think getting it off your chest will help,” he whispers, feeling like talking in a normal voice could startle the girl in front of him.

He’s right – Magdalene knows it. Telling someone the truth, as much of the truth as she can share, other than Bette would do her some good. Her therapist once said Magdalene needed to work on letting people in, and she figures there’s no one better than Ryan. “One of the girls asked me about home when we were getting drinks, and it’s just a really sore subject for me. I shut down and just needed to see you to ground myself.” Ryan goes to talk, but Magdalene continues. “No one really knows, but I left for Denver as soon as I graduated high school. My parents weren’t the greatest, and I suffered a lot emotionally at home. When I told them I was leaving, they told me never to come back and we haven’t spoken since. So yeah, that’s pretty much it. And I just needed to see you to remind myself that I’m okay without my family. You’re part of my family now, the one that really matters.”

Ryan is speechless. “Oh bug,” he sighs, heart hurting for all the pain Magdalene has experienced in her life. “I’m so sorry.” He wants to scream for her, maybe even break something, but all his anger dissipates when he looks down and sees her crying. Silently, Ryan wipes away the tears with the pad of his thumb and holds Magdalene until she stops trembling. They lay in silence for a while, sitting with the weight of the confession she just made. At some point Caligula shuffles in and finds a spot at Ryan’s side that isn’t occupied by Magdalene. The three of them feel like a little family, and it’s too good for Magdalene not to do something about.

“Can I kiss you?”

She’s never been so confident while asking a question. Magdalene knows he wants to kiss Ryan, has known for a while, and after baring her soul to him it seems like an appropriate time to take the plunge. They’ve never truly been just friends and everyone around them, including themselves, knows it.

“Mags,” Ryan says in a gentle yet stern voice, “I’m not gonna kiss you. You’ve just been very vulnerable with me, which I appreciate, and though I really really want to fucking kiss you I’m going to take advantage of you like that.”

If it were possible, Magdalene’s heart would expand so much it would be close to bursting. “I promise this is what I want and that I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. So please shut the fuck up and let me kiss you.”

She leans forward to connect their lips, and it feels like a fire has been ignited in her veins. Ryan is soft and gentle with the right amount of grit to make Magdalene weak in the knees. They move in tandem, giving and taking where necessary, and by the time they pull apart for air Magdalene thinks she’ll never be able to kiss anyone other than Ryan. When he looks at her, eyes kind and glimmering with light, Magdalene is certain kissing other people is off the table.

Neither of them make an effort to talk about what just happened or what it means. Instead, Magdalene kisses him again, and again, and keeps going until she’s completely out of breath. There’s no protest from Ryan, and he looks as blissful as Magdalene feels. She rests her head on his chest again and he cards his fingers through her hair as they sit in the comfortable silence that surrounds them.

☼☼☼☼

Magdalene keeps kissing Ryan, and he keeps kissing her. It’s always in the safety of his apartment, oftentimes with Caligula in the way, but wholesome and loving and warm. They haven’t defined their relationship, and truthfully Magdalene is glad. She likes being friends with Ryan and doesn’t know how the added pressures of dating would affect them – though she might like kissing him more than just being friends.

It becomes routine for either of them to reach for a kiss before heading to the door. Magdalene gets one every time she leaves for work, and if she’s there before Ryan has to leave for games he’s pulled into her lips by his tie. It’s fun and it’s new and Magdalene never wants it to end. She keeps the secret for a couple weeks, but eventually it becomes too much to hold in and she tells Bette one Saturday when they meet for brunch at Barn Owl because the boys are away.

“I kissed Ryan.” It’s out of her mouth like a bullet, cutting through the air and ringing out. Bette is shocked, jaw dropping, only to open further when Magdalene corrects herself. “Been kissing Ryan, actually.”

“You’re fucking joking,” Bette laughs, still not one hundred percent sure Magdalene is being serious. When the brunette nods her head, she squeals in what can only be presumed as delight. “Shut up! Tell me everything!”

Magdalene indulges her friend, and spills every detail she’s willing to share. Part of her wants to keep a bit of her life with Ryan a secret so she does, but Bette is more than willing to work with the information given. She listens carefully while Magdalene talks and waits until there’s nothing more to say before diving into a long list of reasons why kissing Ryan is the best thing that’s ever happened to her friend. Magdalene isn’t sure that it’s great because Bette will always have someone to go to games with, but she is in agreement that it is one of the best choices she’s ever made. They spend the rest of the morning giggling like school girls over potential love and Magdalene heads back to Ryan’s place feeling light and airy.

☼☼☼☼

The first thing Ryan does when he comes home is kisses Magdalene. She’s sitting on the couch with Caligula on her lap reading a book, and he doesn’t even bother to drop his bags on the floor before leaning over the worn leather and connecting their lips. It feels heavenly after the days-long absence and Magdalene chases his lips when Ryan pulls away.

“I missed you.”

They’re three words that shouldn’t mean much, but coming from him they send Magdalene spiralling. He missed her? The girl who spends her days geeking out over old documents and talks to her cat? Regardless of how true the statement is she appreciates it, because Magdalene missed Ryan more than she could ever explain.

“How was the flight home?” she asks, twirling a lock of his hair around her index finger and pulling him down for another kiss. Ryan happily obliges, and kisses her until Caligula begins to meow for attention. The cat practically launches himself into Ryan’s arms as he rounds the corner to sit down next to Magdalene, and purrs loudly at being reunited with the tall man.

Ryan laughs at the animal’s antics before wrapping his spare arm around Magdalene and pulling her close. “It was fine. We hit a bit of turbulence that made it hard to sleep but I managed,” he replies, and reaches for the television remote. Magdalene hums in response, resting her head on Ryan’s shoulder and returning her attention to the book in her hands. It’s silent except for the low buzz of the television as Ryan reviews tape, but neither of them mind. Co-existing is enough for both of them, and it’s peaceful and easy. The occasional conversation occurs but they mostly do their own thing, enjoying the feeling of being together again. More than a few kisses are shared, and Magdalene eventually pries herself away from Ryan long enough to make dinner.

They stayed glued to each other until Magdalene falls asleep. Ryan doesn’t even notice when it happens, but eventually he tries to leave the couch to get a glass of water and finds dead weight on top of him in the shape of the girl he just might love. Magdalene’s snoring softly, and he’s positive there is nothing more adorable in the entire world. A glance at the clock on the wall alerts Ryan to the fact that he should go to bed too, and he begins to brainstorm how to get Magdalene into bed without waking her. She’s been exhausted lately, working extended hours, and he knows she needs all the rest she can get.

It takes a few moments to coordinate, but Ryan gets himself upright without Magdalene realizing she’s no longer using him as a pillow. Gently he scoops her into his arms and pads down the hallway, careful not to hit her ankles on the walls or door frames. Once inside her room, Ryan tucks Magdalene into bed and makes sure her phone is on the nightstand just where she likes it. She looks so content in sleep that he can’t help but lean down and press a shirt kiss to her forehead.

“Night Mags,” he whispers into the dark, wondering if she’ll wake and hear all the adoration his voice holds.

Magdalene stirs at the noise, and opens her eyes to see Ryan’s retreating figure. “Night Ry.”

It’s late, approaching two in the morning, when Magdalene’s phone starts ringing off the hook. Though Ryan has told her multiple times that she doesn’t need to turn her sound on before she goes to bed, she can never find it in her to heed his words. What if there’s an emergency somewhere and some hospital has to get a hold of her? Magdalene would never be able to forgive herself if she was too late because she slept through the incoming calls.

Despite her underlying fears of missing something important, Magdalene considers letting it go to voicemail. She’s exhausted, between the high maintenance projects at work and trying her hardest to go to every Avalanche home game she can, and if it’s urgent she’s sure the person will call again if they need her. It rings three more times before Magdalene decides to pick it up – if only to stop the incessant noise.

Not bothering to even see who’s calling at such an ungodly hour, Magdalene speaks in a sleep-laden voice that betrays what she was doing not even a minute prior. “Hello?”

Bette answers her, offering a quick but sincere apology for the time but explaining that it couldn’t wait. Magdalene groans in contempt, thinking that it most certainly could have waited a few more hours. She doesn’t voice her opinion however, instead waiting for her friend to spill whatever news was making her bounce up and down on the other side of the line.

She’s about to hang up when Bette utters a sentence Magdalene’s been waiting for but never thought she’d hear at one fifty-seven am. “I’m getting married!”

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @samsteel @lovethepreds @cutiesara23 @hockeyallthetime @stlouisbluesbrat21 @denis-scorianov @danglesnipecelly @c-tangerine @stormingroses @spine-buster @rapidfever @bb-nhlqueen7 (add yourself to the taglist!)

[inkdemonapologist]

SESSION TWELVE of the BatIM Call of Cthulhu game, aka Continuing to have a Great Time At The Masquerade! : )

Joey and Bendy destabilised early on, meaning Joey went through the ENTIRE masquerade UNABLE TO STOP SMILING

getting some mixed messages here, Joey

Sometimes u dress ur characters up as rabbits for fun but then you have a lot of emotions about them losing their minds and then u gotta draw them losing their minds while dressed as rabbits... anyway Jack being mind-controlled did NOT help Sammy hold onto his mental stability at this nightmare party in case you were wondering,

ANYWAY HAVE, MORE OUT-OF-CONTEXT QUOTES, UNDER THE CUT

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[GM] Joey, make a POW roll also... [Joey] Oh, boy, [GM] ...because Bendy was also told to enjoy this party, and you guys just passed a plate of food, and he wants to eat! [Jack] FEED YOUR SON! [Joey] No!!! [Henry] HES A HUNGRY BOY! [Sammy] A GROWING BOY!

[Henry] Henry will look back to see if Moonlight is trying to follow them! [GM] He will see that Moonlight has grabbed onto the railing of the stairs and is hobbling slowly down them. [Joey] *extremely evil-sounding cackling*

[Jack] All Cthulhu Official Dice actually come weighted, to make you fail.

[Henry] Gotta try harder than that, bitch! [Henry] ....that wasn't in character. [Jack] It's in character, but he's only thinking it. [Sammy] That's the golden text you see on the wall if you use the seeing tool

[Henry] My Luck is 68, I don't know what y'all are doing! [Jack] We're spending Luck so that we'll fail! [Sammy] BEING UNLUCKY! I've barely spent any Luck, I'm just NOT A LUCKY GUY

[Henry] Oh, Avedon's here, [GM] There's a gunshot, and he tries to shoot Fowler! [Joey] Um, well, uh, whoops!, rest in peace Fowler! [Sammy] Yeah, that'll sort itself out, let's go! [GM] Moonlight seems to reconsider from telling people to grab you guys, to grabbing Avedon instead. [Joey] Oh! THANKS AVEDON, your sacrifice will, not be thought about in the slightest!!!

[Sammy] Is... weird question, does this room look like it matches the architecture of the rest of the house? [GM] [GM] [GM] ...make a sanity check.

[Sammy] It would be a like, Come on Jack, do you know where you are, shake it off, snap out of it, kind of thing. [GM] Why don't you make a... a.... oh boy, [Sammy] One of my REALLY persuasive social skills?

[GM] This probably just registers to Jack as, Sammy griping about a party, which isn't that strange. [Jack] Yeahhhh, he wants to leave. He always does that. I wanna stay at least a little longer! [GM] That just means it's Jack's job to find them something fun and good to do. [Sammy] Oh boy, [GM] I don't think Jack is being compelled to be aggressive about this necessarily, he just feels like he's Jack at a party, doing the things Jack normally does, and trying to have a good time! [Sammy] Ah, and everyone else is being weird, [GM] Yeah! Everybody's being really weird! You're at this nice party, and now you're in this weird room? The party's back there somewhere! [Jack] I mean not that he's opposed to bein' dragged into side rooms at parties by cute boys, but,

[GM] The table looks like a table that Henry has in his house, actually. [Sammy] Have I ever been in Henry's house? These are questions I didn't expect to need to ask tonight.

[Sammy] Jack, this is weird! You see this is weird, right?! [Jack] Well yeah, it is kinda weird that we're in-- what are we doing here? [Joey] Joey is going to grab Jack's arm, and point to the next door, and go "Party is this way!"

[GM] Peter looks worried... [Sammy] Sammy looks worried too! Well, Sammy looks angry, but in a worried way.

[Joey] Joey is going to scream frustratedly. [Sammy] Is there ink in this room? [GM] There is not. [Jack] Is there a party in this room? [GM] Definitely no, only the party you bring with you.

[Joey] Joey is going to scream again. [Joey] He's also going to kick the door. He might stub his toe. [Sammy] Through all this, Joey is smiling. I just need us all to remember that. [Joey] YES. Also his tail is furiously going. [GM] Bendy is also upset! There is nothing to eat here.

[Joey] Joey is going to try to feed Bendy some ideas, [GM] He doesn't want ideas, he wants food!

[Joey] So.... what happens if you fumble a sanity roll?

[GM] See, here's the silly part. At this point, right? At this point, the best place to do the tasks you want to do, involve either getting the stone out of the room with the safe, or having the staff that Henry is currently holding. [Sammy] So you would arrive, by completely different means, to the same place that we are! [GM] Clearly Joey is inside the safe.

[Jack] Bad and naughty Joey Drews get put in the safe to atone for their sins!

[Henry] Henry is going to channel his inner Joey Drew and round the corner and say "No, sorry about him, we're just here on inspection, we need to check the safe." [Henry] Which is probably a Fast Talk, which I hope it isn't, because my Fast Talk is a 5. [GM] Unless you wanna try to turn that into a persuade somehow? [Henry] I'll do Persuade! [GM] What are you doing to persuade them, rather than just lying? [Henry] *rolls* I failed... I'm gonna push it... [Sammy] *uneasy noises* IF YOU PUSH IT AND IT GOES BAD, IT GOES WORSE [Henry] AH! HAHA! I ROLLED A SIX! [Sammy] THAT'S STILL NOT LESS THAN FIVE! [Henry] WELL IM DOING PERSUADE! [Sammy] That means you have to NOT LIE! [Henry] ....Fuck. [Henry] Okay, uh, there's an emergency, we need the contents of that safe. [Sammy] THATS STILL A LIE??? [Joey] NO actually, THAT'S TRUE! [Henry] It IS an emergency!!

[Sammy] Sammy cannot believe that this is working.

[GM] Bendy does wonder what his plan is for getting out of the safe. This does not seem like a fun party place. [Joey] Um, [Joey] Joey says it's a surprise.

[GM] Henry, the safe does indeed open! And there's a Joey! [GM] Bendy says "Oh wow!" [Henry] Henry tries his best to keep a straight face, like yes! this is exactly what he came here for! [Sammy] (Sammy is NOT keeping a straight face) [Jack] (Straight? In this party?)

[Jack] He's probably saying something like, "What are you doing, he's one of us!" [Jack] And that could go either way. That could mean "No, he's chill, I will persuade you to stop!" Or that could mean, "We are also criminals!"

[GM, as the guards] Then why does he look like the Yellow King's messenger? [Henry] *not missing a beat* We get that a lot.

[GM] Something falls from the sky and lands in front of him. And it's a person! [Joey] Is he alive? [GM] Very much not. [Sammy] How... how Illusion of Living canon-compliant is this Joey...?

[Jack] So... it would probably occur to Jack that this is weird for a party,

[Henry] Joey don't touch it! [Joey] Why not? [Henry] There's runes around it. I don't know if you can touch it. [Joey] Joey's gonna touch it. [Henry] *long-suffering sigh* If you get zapped, I'll tell you I told you so!

[Jack] Jack really wishes we were just back at the party right now, you guys... [Jack] Only bad things have happened. [Jack] Pete's traumatised, Joey's goopy, the Lurker ate all of the snacks,

[Sammy] Can I try to break free from Henry? Sammy's gonna try to run over there. [Henry] At this point, Sam can go, if he wants. [Sammy] Okay, cool. Then Sammy's gonna go and put ink in his mouth! [Henry] Goddammit. I was hoping you were going to check on Joey!

[Joey] You can’t take all of the sanity hits! You have to leave some for other people! [Jack] Says you! You got so many temps!! And an indefinite!!

[GM] Bendy probably is complaining loudly about WHY DID HE WALK THROUGH THE RUNES??? [Joey] Oh! I thought he was going to complain about the party, or lack thereof, [GM] That’s part of not having fun at the party, he’s not into that! [Joey] Well, [GM] This is not a fun party activity!!

[GM] But he doesn’t think it will destroy either of them, if you do it right! [Jack] That’s a nice, way to end that sentence,

[Sammy] Let us hurry! May I take the stone? [Joey] Joey shrugs. [Sammy] Sammy will, uh, attempt to reach inside of... whatever this is, and find the stone. [Henry] Reach INTO your LOCAL boss, and you will find A Friend And Boy,

[Sammy] Is there anything in this room that I can pick up, and then hit him in the head with? [GM] Henry has a stick... uh....there’s a projector.... [Sammy] Can I pick that up? [GM] No, you cannot. [Sammy] It would be REALLY funny if Sammy dropped a projector on someone else’s head. [Sammy] HOW THE TURNTABLES!!!

[GM] ...Can you impale with a rocking horse...???? [Sammy] I don’t want to impale, I want to knock him in the head so he passes out!!! Rest your head, it’s time for bed!!!

[Jack] I don’t think Jack has any plans after this! [Jack] I meant that in the sense that he doesn’t know what he’s doing next, but the way I phrased it, now it just sounds like he’s hitting on Fowler, like, he doesn’t have anything to do after this, are you free? That’s not canon.

[Joey] I don’t know how this will go, [Sammy] Good luck! [Joey] But Joey would like to-- [Sammy] Sammy believes in half of you! [GM] w-which Sammy? wHICH HALF?!

[Jack] I know you said “note.” But my brain at first processed that word as “milk.” [Henry] *laughing* “Did you get my milk, Fowler?�� [Jack] He drank the last carton and he didn’t buy more! [Sammy] “I’m going to the store, want me to get anything? *jumps into the lake*”

[GM] Combat Jack! [Jack] *exasperated* He’s not a Combat Boy! Jack is soft and warm, like mashed potatoes!!!

[GM] Norman is wondering to Henry if he oughta be concerned about you all getting what you want out of this. [Henry] .....Maybe.

[do-y0u-have-to-let-it-linger]

EXT. The Roof (Winter) - Sunset

Not Just Attracted to Women!Peter Maximoff x Fem and Not Just Attracted to Men!Reader

Based off of a dream I recently had: Peter and Y/N have a conversation on the roof of Xavier's in mid-December. Peter accidentally lets it slip that he might not be straight, and he is afraid that Y/N will think less of him because of it because this is the 80s. Y/N reveals that she is also not straight, and is saddened by the fact that Peter could think that she could ever hate him- especially for that. She calls him wonderful. Feelings ensue. Also, a touch of Cherik at the end because I give the people what they want.

Warnings: Swearing, Peter cries, internalized homophobia (this is the 80s-ish and Peter uses the word 'queer' in a kind of incorrect and kind of offensive manner, but it was internalized homophobia and not actually intended to be mean to anyone but himself so I forgive him), a touch of angst but mostly fluff, Charles called you two "children" even though you are obviously not, Erik is happy that his son has someone that cares about him the way you do, Peter is insecure but not super blunt about it, Peter has been deprived of being adored his entire life, bad writing, I mention a serial killer twice, historical inaccuracy because the word queer was still a slur so yeah.

A/N: This is literally the first thing I have ever written so please be nice to me, I wrote this instead of an essay. I would love a comment of any kind, even if it's just a heart emoji or something, and constructive criticism would be highly appreciated. Also 'N/N' stands for nick-name.

(Ok, so, full discloser: the format is odd. The bullet points represent dialogue, and the only dialogue is between you two love birds. The first bullet point is Peter, the second is Y/N, the third is Peter, and so on.)

“I dunno, the whole ‘liking people’ thing has always been weird for me.”

“How do you mean?"

“Pppffftt- 'how do you mean,' what are you, Shakespeare or somethin’?”

“Yeah, because that’s the era when ‘how do you mean' would have been a popular term. Ok, what do you mean?”

“Just- when other people were liking people I never really was?”

He was gesturing wildly and avoiding eye contact, as always. He wasn't uncomfortable with eye contact, he just got bored easily in conversations, he needed to keep himself occupied. In this situation that meant staring at the red and green lights covering the rest of the roof, the snowy trees all over the yard, and a holly garland around the gate. Peter wasn't Christian, but man, did he love their Christmas decorations.

“Like… now? In school?”

“Well- yeah… but also when I was younger. And I never liked the right people? Or... liked them in the right way?”

“So you’ve never liked anyone.”

“No, no… I definitely have. It was just… weird! I don't-”

His hands dropped to his side in defeat.

“I don’t think it’s that out of the ordinary. I would tell you if it was. Also, if it was... 'weird', like you said, that wouldn’t mean it was necessarily bad.”

He hadn’t really heard what she said, he was too busy pondering what his next sentence would be. When she wasn't speaking, he was rambling.

"I had some of the normal crap… like in movies when they talk about the fluttery stomach junk. I've had that around a few girls I've been friends with, also that phase with the boy stuff, a-"

“Wait, what phase with the boy stuff?”

“Like- when you’re in middle school or whatever and you're gay for a second.”

His phrasing was a joke, but the statement as a whole was not.

“…‘Gay for a second’?”

“…Yeah?”

“Hmmm..."

"Is that- not-"

"I don't think that is... 'normal'... per-say..."

“Oh… Really?”

His heart sunk.

“…Yeah.”

“Huh.”

“…Mhm.”

“…Shit.”

He suddenly looked almost embarrassed. He shifted his posture, seemingly trying to shrink into himself.

“Do you... wanna chat about it?”

Panic started to slowly rise in him.

“Um- forget I said anything.”

“Why?”

Something in him said to go on the "defense". He did not appear as calm as he was intending to.

“I’m not- gay! or anything. I like girls! I do!”

She put her hand on his arm.

“Hey- look at me for a second. We are not in court, and I never 'accused' you of being gay. That would be a very funny reality TV show, but not what is happening right now. Listen, theoretically if you were gay that wouldn’t be bad! And I wouldn’t be… whatever you.. think that I would be? I mean- however you are afraid I would act in a negative reaction to it? I would try to be here for you, and be as supportive as possible.”

He didn’t believe her.

“Ok, sure.”

“Peter.”

“What? You’re going to tell me that you would honestly be friends with a queer person- be friends with me if I was... not... normal?”

She was taken aback by his tone, the word he had used, and the way he said it, felt like a weight dropping on her shoulders.

“Oh. would you… not?”

It was her turn to seem nervous.

“What?”

“Would you- stop being friends with someone for liking someone that they… I don’t know… shouldn’t... would be the word I guess?”

Why, in this situation, was she nervous? Oh. His fear was replaced with guilt.

“No.”

“Ok.”

“So… are you… do you… why were you scared?”

“... Why were you?”

She expected a joke from him, something along the lines of “touché".

“Are you… gay?”

“No.”

Yeah, he didn’t believe her.

“Uh-huh”

“Really, I’m not. I’ve liked boys, but also... I've had feelings for girls. I’m not… straight. So I just want to let you know that it’s okay if you aren’t too.”

“I never s-“

She smiled at him with a bit of pity, she had been there. The self-loathing, the feeling of walking on minefields with so many people in your life.

“You are…”

She paused.

“I am… what?”

“Give me a second I’m trying to find the perfect word.”

“… Okay?”

“Wonderful.”

That was not exactly the word he was expecting. Like, at all.

“Huh?”

“That’s the word. Wait- let me start over. You gotta look me in my eyes as I say it, because it’s gonna be really poetic.”

“Uh… should I be scared?”

“No. Maybe a little. No.”

“… Okay.”

He looked at her.

“You are… wonderful.”

“Oh... Thanks?“

He looked away again, to be honest, he was a bit uncomfortable. He rarely received compliments, especially ones that seem so... genuine.

“I’m not finished, look back at me, just for a second. You are so wonderful- and I will support you as whatever you are! I want you to know that I can- I can barely even think of something you could do that would make me genuinely hate you- like… maybe if you Dahmer-ed people or like chopped up a-“

He found this was amusing, yet disturbing.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry- I just- the fact that you thought, even for a second, that I could hate you… is just-“

“I’m sorry”

“No! Stop it. Don’t be sorry.”

She stared at him expectantly.

“What do you want me to-“

“Take it back! The sorry!”

“How?”

“Say you aren’t sorry”

“N/N-“

“Peter.”

“Ok. I’m, ya know, not sorry.”

“Good. You shouldn’t be”

“You’re weird.”

“Yuh-huh. Says the most likely, from the little information I've gathered, bisexual in denial who also happens to be the fastest boy on earth who had to slow down exponentially to interact with other people who also, also, happens sitting on a roof in the dead of winter with me.”

“What’s by smexual?”

Something about the way he attempted to repeat her words must have been hilarious, he thought, because here she was, sitting in front of him, in a fit of childish giggles. He would smile if he weren't so confused.

“No- that’s not- what I said- it’s… wait!”

“What?”

“You’re tryna get me off topic!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Am not!”

“Are t- shit.”

“HAHA! Victory is a sweet dessert... wait is that even the saying? Still, I win you lose, nerd.”

“Ok, okay! go on.”

She was attempting to gather herself to give off a less jokey aura. It was half working, the "am not! are too!" argument a few moments ago made it hard for him to take her seriously, but he could tell it was important to her that he did, so he tried his best.

“You have to look at me again. just for a second.”

“I sw-”

“Just do it? Please?”

His attempt to put up a fight was thwarted by her small "please". He was pathetic.

“Okay.”

He looked at her.

“You…”

“Me… or- wait- I…”

“Are w-“

“Wonderful, yeah yeah. just get to the n-”

“No.”

“… No?”

“When you say it it doesn’t encapsulate it. It sounds silly.”

“Ok little miss ‘you art thou wonderful’, how would you have me say it?”

“I am you wonderful?”

“What?”

“You called me ‘little miss you are you wonderful’ what does that-“

“Ok! Would you just- shut up and call me wonderful one more time, please?”

She looked at him and blinked. That sentence surely came off as less ironic than intended.

“You are wonderful.”

She grabbed his face, in a half-joking manner. Her grab smushed his cheeks and she couldn't help but laugh a bit when she did it. Even though it was clearly a bit, he was still flustered.

“W-“

She shook him a bit.

"Shut up 'cause I'm about to say some beautiful and true shit. You are wonderful. You are wonderful. You are wonderful. You are absolutely, unchangingly, and irrevocably wonderful and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it, Maximoff.”

After saying what she would (in 40 years or so) recall as a painfully John Green-ish statement in her blunt and matter-of-fact manner, she let go of her semi-ironic hold on his pink cheeks. Were his cheeks pink because it was absolutely freezing, or because his heart was beating faster than he had ever (and would ever, mind you) run, you ask? No comment.

“Wow.”

“Wow what.”

“You do say it better than I do.”

“Did you like how I stressed different parts of the sentence each time? I thought that was a nice detail.”

“Wow.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Wow.”

Did his voice just... break a little?

“Peter?”

“Uh- yeah?”

Was he a little... sniffle-y? She was now very concerned.

“Are you okay?!”

“Oh- um... yeah!”

No! No he was clearly not! He was sniffling!

“Really? 'Cause, you don't seem it.”

“It’s just- I just- wow.”

“Wow, what!?”

“That was just- uh-"

“Just what? It really wasn't that fancy, you seem much too impressed with me. Oh my God, was it terrible?”

“I mean it was really corny but w-“

“I swear to God if you say 'wow' one more time I may have to add ‘use of the word wow too much’ to the list of things that could make me hate you. Right next to the Dahmer stuff. That was a joke. Your use of the word wow is only mildly perturbing. Sorry."

She was panicking "just a bit".

“I’m sorry, I mean I’m not sorry. Sorry. Shit! sorry! I mean I’m not!”

And he was absolutely... full-on crying at this point.

“Peter.”

“Yeah?”

He was looking down at his mittens. Not that this is important, but they were very pretty mittens.

“Look at me, you klepto.”

He didn’t.

“You know- I’ve been hearing a lot of that 'look at me' stuff from you today. I mean- the klepto part is new-“

“Peter.”

“What?!”

He peaked up at her.

“Talk to me. Please, you're kinda scaring me, let me help.”

“I’m not sad!”

“You’re crying!”

“Yeah but not from the sads!”

“… The ‘sads’?”

“You know- when you get sad! It just means being sad! I don't- that’s what Wanda calls it, not me!"

He wiped his nose, tears still running down from his puffy eyes to his reddened cheeks.

“What are you crying from?”

“No one’s ever called me wonderful before.”

“I'm sorry! I did a few minutes ago and you didn’t cry!”

“No! You can't 'sorry' me if I can't 'sorry' you! And- yeah but that doesn’t count!”

“Why?”

“Because it only felt big when you said it the certain way!”

“What way!?”

“You look at me, you grab my cheeks-“

“I'm sorry about that by the way I was j-“

“No! It’s really ok! Do it whenever! I mean don’t do it whene- shut up!”

“I’m not even talking! You're the one talking!”

“You look at me, you grab my cheeks, and you go: you are wonderful.”

“Yeah???”

“No one ever called me that before!”

"Peter, I- well- they- they should! They should! More often! Then the amount that it happens now! I think. In my opinion."

"Or really looked at me like that!”

“Looked at you like what, Peter?”

“Like I was somethin’!”

“Well, you are… ‘somethin'! Whatever that means! And- I think you deserve to be looked at as such!”

“See?”

“What!?”

“You just-“

A strangled sob escaped from his throat. He didn't know how to explain.

“Pete.”

“Ew. I hate that nickname.”

He crossed his arms over his chest like a toddler, trying to completely ignore the fact that he was an emotional wreck.

“Peter.”

“Yeah?”

She opened her arms and gestured for him to come closer. He was hesitant at first- but gave up all the reasons he shouldn't move to be closer to her in exchange for the promise of comfort she was offering him. He crawled over to her and curled up in her arms. The way she held him made him want to cry more. Who does she think she is- holding him like he was worth holding? With her chin sitting on top of his hair? Letting him do that gross cry sob with the spit and the snot into her only winter coat? Rocking him, and shushing him, and petting his stupid, silver hair? She was warm, too! The audacity of this woman.

When Erik brought Charles into his office to grab a chess set, they saw the two in the window. For a moment Charles considered telling Peter and Y/N to get off of the high platform, seeing as the two were the reasons the "no sitting on the roof" rule was enacted in the first place (neither of them were coordinated whatsoever). Charles quickly dropped this notion when he saw the look on Erik's face, Charles could tell it made him so happy to see Peter be held like that, cared for like that. Erik's expression made Charles want to both tell Erik that he is the most precious thing in the world, and make fun of him (look at Mr. Metal, gone completely soft). Possibly he could do both at the same time. But for now, he is just going to pretend he didn't see the two outside of the window, and have Erik grab them their game, go to the living room, and pretend not to have read Erik's mind when he inevitably asks him how he always manages to pick the white chess piece at "random".