#i usually just draw whatever scenario is in meh head

[honiaoma]

Helloooo I really really like the new comic so far! Sun and Moon's dynamic in it is very nice!

Is there gonna be more?

If so, could you maybe possibly give it a unique tag pretty please 👉👈 it is so much easier for me to keep up with comics if they have a tag I can follow

If not, that's fine, I understand!

Still really intriguing so far, and I can't wait for more 💛💛💛

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

Something to Uplift Us

Ao3,  MasterPost

Relationships:  Romantic DLAMPR (Roman-centric, kinda Remus-centric), platonic Creativitwins!!!

Do I like this??? Meh. Is it something that I wrote? Yes. I will heal myself from SVS-R with Fluff.

Warnings: Remus Typical Nonsense, swearing, mentions of being in Quarantine, all sympathetic sides, non-sexual Pole Dancing

Word Count: 2,667 

Roman was the essence of romance and it showed. For his entire existence, he'd been well acquainted with the hypothetical. If he were his own person, if he had a prince of his own, if he had the chance at a romantic relationship, he knew what he would do. Roman knew relationships, he always had, and it had tortured him to know that he'd never have one.

Which was why it frustrated him to no end that he hadn’t been the one to ask out his fellow sides. He’d honestly never thought that it would be an option. When he first developed his feelings for the others- Virgil, Patton, Logan, Janus, in that order- he had felt nothing more than excitement. He was giddy, he was light-headed, just to know that he could feel that way. He would spend hours daydreaming, just musing over the way they made his heart stop, but he never hoped for anything to come of it. He wasn’t sad, or mournful, or pining per se- just so caught up in the joy of feelings that he forgot that he could do something with them. 

So he thought about it a lot, suffice to say. And all he had now was time to think; it was nearly month three of quarantine. Roman had wrung his brain out like a sponge for anything new to think about- The Imagination was practically turning gray! He tried to tend to it, truly he did, but it was getting harder every day. Creativity's fellow sides had all busied themselves taking up new hobbies- Virgil was teaching Patton to draw, Janus had learnt embroidery, Logan took up knitting, Remus made trash sculptures… They all seemed to be having their own little renaissance (complete with plague), and what was Roman doing? Wasting valuable free time!

  In a fit of desperation, the artistic trait dived under his large canopy bed, rummaging around until his hand caught on the lip of a cardboard box. With no small amount of effort, he pulled the enormous container out from under his bed so that it could be properly examined. There, piled high in the box, were dozens of notebooks and sketchbooks- all of which filled to the brim with writing, drawings, and poetry. Having no clue what he was specifically looking for, Roman upended the box and watched the contents crash to the floor. Something in here would surely spark his mind! Perhaps some old work would catch his eye and inspire some redraws!

The side hadn't needed to search for long. Right at the top of the pile- bright pink, its cover dotted with puffy heart stickers- sat a large, spiral-bound sketchbook. You could almost see the light bulb pop up over Roman’s head as he squealed and snatched up the sketchbook. Flopping down onto his bed, he flipped it open in one hand and placed the other against his chest. 

“Ooh, some of my best,” he cooed to no one in particular, gaze turned to the dozens of love poems surrounded by little doodles of hearts that filled the pages. This was the journal he’d confided in before the sides had all officially begun their relationship, filled with flowery prose about anything from Janus’ scales to Patton’s smile; from Logan’s laugh to Virgil’s freckles (a rare sight, usually hidden by make-up). Roman was so lost in nostalgia that when the ideas hit him, he nearly fell out of bed in excitement at his own thoughts.

Of course! He could take all of these old writings and compose them together, into one eloquent amalgam that would illustrate perfectly all those things that he’d been unable to articulate in the beginning! And it seemed only fitting that such a soliloquy be delivered in The Imagination- in the most gorgeous scenario he could fabricate! Somewhere open to a starry sky, for his left-brained loves- but it had to have ornate architecture, of course, and it had to be cozy. Oh, it was all coming together now.

Roman leapt out of bed, posing with his hand above his head and sinking deeper into The Mindscape extravagantly. He didn’t waste time looking around at the depressing half-formed scenery, sweeping his arms up and erasing the entirety of his half of The Imagination. Time to get to work.

Remus was stretched across the Commons couch, his head in Janus’ lap and feet in Logan’s. The TV hummed with whatever show they’d thrown on as background noise, and a few feet away at the counter, Patton and Virgil were hovering over some sort of scrapbook.  Nobody had the energy for conversation; nobody had the energy for anything. 

It was magnificently boring. The Duke already filled up an entire sketchbook, written half a dozen shamelessly smutty self-insert fanfictions, constructed and subsequently destroyed eldritch beings in his room, and bothered his boyfriends. So, all that was left to do was doze.

It didn’t help Remus’ tired state that Janus was running his fingers through his hair. The monotonous waking world was finally slipping away. Maybe there was something buried in his dreams that could hold his attention.

But just before sleep took hold, a white-hot energy ran through the trait’s body, jolting him so suddenly that he tumbled off of the couch and onto the floor. His arms and legs were all pins-and-needles as he looked up at his very concerned partners.

“There’s fuckery afoot!” Remus announced, wide-eyed. He pulled himself up and grinned, “You guys stay here!” 

Without so much as a good-bye, Remus threw himself into the ground, saving himself the time of sinking out properly. After a moment’s silence, Janus resumed working on his embroidery. 

“Should we go see what that was about?” Patton asked tentatively. 

“Meh,” the three other sides responded in unison. After a moment, Janus added, “It is Remus, after all.”

Roman’s structure was coming together beautifully! Wide marble columns rose up and held aloft the glimmering silver ceiling, the middle of which was a sky-light open to thousands of stars and a brilliant full moon. Surrounding the opening was a spiral of stone roof- through the gaps of which even more astronomically accurate stars shone!

The inside of the building consisted of an immense mahogany stage, currently cloaked by thick velvet curtains and overlooking plenty of seats. Rather than traditional theater rows, Roman had arranged the seating like lovely cafe tables, all of which were given generous space from each other (Except for two at the very front, of course). Lanterns hung from the walls, casting the space in warm lighting. Creativity currently stood at the very back, thinking that it could use just a little more of something. With a smirk, the side snapped his fingers and the wall of the room was pushed backwards several yards. With a few more flicks of the wrist and dividing columns, a little lobby was formed. 

He’d given the theater room maroon carpeting and rich gray walls, but the new back section needed brighter lighting and a more cream-canary color scheme. Now he could just finish the decor!

Or he would have, if not for the fact that at that moment someone crashed into his ribs with all the grace of a flaming motorbike. 

“BRO!!!”

“ACK-!” was all Roman managed, as all the wind was knocked out of him. He glared up at his brother, who was sitting on his chest. 

“I knew you were up to something! You wiped half of the whole fucking Imagination! What is this!?” 

Roman wheezed, pushed Remus off of his chest, and finally pulled himself off the ground to catch his breath. His brother was spinning around the room already, eyes sparkling as he took in the building.

“I had to blank it, I needed my full focus,” Roman explained, back to work and filling the back wall with tall bookshelves, “and it’s a surprise, so don’t tell the others.”

“Oh, I won’t. Provided you let me in on whatever this is,” Remus had an ear-to-ear grin, bouncing on the balls of his feet. After a moment’s consideration, Roman hummed.

“I’m doing something nice for our boyfriends. I think we all could use a little pick-me-up, so do not ruin this!”

“I wanna do something nice for them! Lemme help!” 

“You don’t even know what it’s for! Plus, it’s personal!”

“I already asked what it was for, Stupid.”

Roman huffed.

“I wrote them something. Hence the stage.”

“So, what, you’re gonna bring them all into your fancy library-opera for your poetry orgy and I sit in a corner somewhere and be quiet?”

“Ideally.”

“Not a chance, Whore!” Remus swung himself up onto the concession stand that Roman had just created, tearing into a box of candy (food made in The Imagination always tasted weirder than food or ingredients they conjured elsewhere in the Mindscape, but he didn’t particularly mind). 

“Fine. What do you want to do?” Roman challenged, hands on his hips.

“I. Want. To. Help.”

Roman raised his eyebrows doubtfully. Grumbling, his twin started gesturing around the room as he spoke.

“The stars are too bright, they take the focus away from the stage instead of accenting it. The color of the curtains are too similar to the carpet. You’ve got Corinthian shit in there and bookstore lobby vibes in here, which is garbage and inconsistent.”

Roman blinked, his eyes following along with Remus’ criticism. 

“Hm. You have a point.”

“I’m Creativity too, you know. I have some taste.” The Duke said, gnawing on the cardboard box that had contained Imagination Candy moments before. 

“You’re wearing crocs and jorts, simultaneously.”

Remus waved his hand dismissively, hopping off the counter and rushing across the room.

“Whatever. Come on, I’ve got an idea how I can accompany your performance, too.”

“Oh, goody.”

Hours had past and little had changed in the Mindscape living room- Virgil and Patton had finished up their scrapbooking and were curled up together in an armchair, so Logan was sitting at the counter space previously occupied by the two and clacking away on his laptop, and Janus hadn’t moved. The muddled energy of the room had remained pervasive.

That was, until the door to the imagination slammed open, the doorknob cracking against the wall. Four heads shot up to see Remus and Roman, standing side-by-side (quite looking the part of identical twins, matching smiles and all). 

“Oh god,” Janus groaned instinctively, carefully setting his embroidery on a side table, “What did you two do?”

“Yeah, I don’t trust that look,” Virgil said.

The twins scoffed in mock-offense, continuing their odd coordination.

“We try to do something nice,” exclaimed Remus.

“And not so much as a ‘thank you,’” added Roman solemnly. Eyes were rolled, but Patton perked up considerably (just as planned). 

“Ooo, what are you talking about?” 

“It’s a surprise!” Said The Duke, bouncing up and down. Creativity Prime gave a sweeping motion to indicate the still-open door to the Imagination, which had been steadily seeping into the common room with a bright new energy that it had been lacking for days. 

“Follow us,” he instructed, disappearing through the door once more with Remus at his back. Patton bounced after them immediately, grinning. 

The three left-brained sides exchanged glances, shrugged, and followed suit. 

The twins were backstage in an instant, trusting their partners to figure out where their seats were on their own. Roman began pacing around as soon as they finished warming up. 

“Are you sure you can do this? I’m still not sure if your performance is well-suited to acoustic guitar-”

He was cut off by Remus groaning exaggeratedly.

“I can work with anything, bitch.” 

“Right, right,” There was a beat. “You’re sure you’re ready?”

“I’ve been ready. What’s going on with you?”

Rather than responding, Roman did another lap around the stage. 

“C’mon! Stop pacing before I take a bonesaw to your legs!”

“Okay! Alright! I’m ready!”

Before Remus could come up with any more gruesome threats, Roman snapped his fingers and the curtains began to rise. He took his place half-sitting on a stool up front, a guitar in his arms. Behind him, Remus stood between two sturdy metal poles that rose from the stage and into the ceiling. You can already see where this is going.

When the stage was fully revealed, the lights above the audience dimmed. Figuring that the show would be rather awkward if said audience consisted of four people, the Creativities had The Imagination render dozens of prop-people. They moved and acted like a crowd of humans, but each individual was too vague to focus on for long. Thus it was made very clear where their fellow sides were, sitting right up front with a wide array of expressions from amazed to amused to bewildered.

Roman took a moment to steel himself and then began playing. Originally, he’d planned on spoken-word for his loves, but traditionally there is music involved in pole-dancing, so he’d made a few adjustments in order for Remus to be able to contribute. 

Roman started singing, melting as the gazes of the real audience members turned awestruck (and also very flushed, likely from whatever surprisingly impressive poses his brother was pulling behind him). He liked to think that he poured his heart out into every performance, but for this one it felt quite literal. 

Roman’s voice picked up gradually, and he could vaguely hear metal clanging behind him. It went on like that for a good few minutes- because if there was one thing the Twins weren’t, it was brief- before the show finally concluded. Roman stalled for a moment as both the imaginary and real components of the audience applauded uproariously. Remus swung down from the pole and hopped over to him.

“We bow now, Dumbass,” he hissed, noticeably out of breath.

“Oh- right.”

They took hands and took a couple bows as the clapping died down, standing back up with wide grins and red faces. 

As soon as the auditorium was relatively silent, Patton rushed the stage. He outstretched his arms and hopped up and down excitedly.

“Lemme up!” 

Roman grabbed his hands and pulled him on stage while Remus was still attempting to catch his breath. Morality leaned down to give The Prince a brief kiss, and then bounced over to the much more exhausted half of the act to give him the same treatment. He was grinning so wide that it looked painful, his face a bright pink. The Duke wore a matching expression, but the smile was much more unnatural in that preferred way of his.

“So you liked it?”

Rather than verbally responding, Patton grabbed the hands of both Creativities and made a cheerful ribbiting sound.

“It was wonderful,” Logan supplied, climbing the stairs on the side of the stage to meet them, Virgil and Janus right behind him. He was much less outwardly enthusiastic as the other spectacled side, but no less appreciative.

“Yeah, did you guys put all this together today?” Virgil asked, throwing an arm around Roman’s shoulders. 

“What else did we have to do?” Remus answered with a shrug. 

“Good point.”

Janus cleared his throat lightly, immediately drawing everyone’s attention. His eyes were noticeably rimmed with redness, a small smile on his face as he outstretched all of his arms.

“Here, all of you, now.”

Patton cooed.

“Group hug!” 

Fitting six people into one hug may seem awkward, but it always seemed to work out for the sides. At least, Roman thought so. Virgil would fake exasperation at the affection, but they could all tell he loved it. Logan would try to maintain his dignity and fail miserably. Patton was a ball of warmth and energy that seeped into the rest of them. Janus was by far the best at giving hugs, though it could be considered cheating to have extra limbs.

At that moment it hit Roman that, perhaps he hadn’t started this relationship, but he was still a part of it. And that was all he could ever want.

These    Performances    inspired Remus’. They are oddly calming to watch, and super impressive!

@shrimp-crockpot

[firethatgrewsolow]

Swiss Time - Chapter Sixteen

**The adventure continues (and this time it didn’t take ten years between chapters lol). Side note - it’s come to my attention that the little separator lines don’t work on mobile, so if the transitions in the chapter seem abrupt, that’s why. Apologies! Thanks for reading, and I hope you like it! <3**

Natalie jumped at the sharp crunch behind her, dropping the phone into its cradle. She spun around to find her aunt gnawing on a piece of celery, a devilish grin firmly planted on her face.

“How’s David? Enjoying the land of the rising sun?”

Nat’s mouth fell open. “Were you … eavesdropping on my conversation?”

“Of course.” Another crunch rang the room. “Would you expect anything less?”

Natalie snatched the stalk away, tossing it onto the bar. “Has anyone told you how obnoxious you are?”

“I do my best.” Sue gingerly reclined onto the sofa, nursing her bloody mary. “So, what did you talk about?”

“Why don’t you tell me? Since you were listening to the whole damn thing.”

“I just caught the last part. Unfortunately,” Susan added with a wink. “I suppose you didn’t mention where you spent last night, huh? And that you barely made it here in time for the call?”

Natalie sank into the chaise next to the window. “No. I didn’t.”

“Speaking of last night, care to fill me in on the details?”

“Not really.”

Susan cocked her head. “You are on the pill, right?”

“Aunt Sue!”

“Just making sure you’re safe. After all, you’re quite the juggler. Last night with Robert and then our trip down under next week?” Sue’s lips curved approvingly. “My, my, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Maybe I don’t. Natalie’s eyes glided to the sheet of glass beside her. The sun was beginning its descent, casting shimmering shapes across the expanse of Lake Geneva. She watched the elegant crafts threading through them, her mind wandering. She hadn’t meant for things to escalate so quickly with either of them. Truth be told, the connection with David had been somewhat of a surprise. As was how precious he’d been to her. Promising to call and actually doing it. He always keeps his promises. Unlike someone else she knew. There was another truth, though, a painfully obvious one. And that was that it just didn’t matter. Robert could do or not do whatever he pleased, and she’d still be lost. The draw she had to him trumped everything. What am I getting into? What am I already in?

“Out of your head, Nattie. You’re not answering the question.”

Natalie met her aunt’s vexed gaze. “I’m sorry. What was it?”

“Do they know about each other?”

Nat hesitated, rolling her lips. “Kind of.”

Sue’s brow lifted. “That’s a no if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Not true. Robert knows that I … spend time with David.”

“Darling, you may spend time with David, but you spent the night with Robert.”

Nat shook her head. “But we didn’t do anything … much. Just watched a movie and hung out.”

“Hung out,” Susan repeated, barking a laugh. “I like it. Nice euphemism. I wonder exactly what was hanging out.” She grinned as her niece cut her eyes at her. “You do realize what you’re doing here, right? A game of cat and mouse with some pretty big egos.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sighing, Sue propped her feet up on the coffee table. “You know these aren’t boys from school, Nat. They’re grown men, and they’re not typically fond of sharing.”

Natalie shrugged. “There’s nothing to share.”

“You spent the night in Robert Plant’s hotel suite, honey. If that’s nothing then it’s a whole lotta nothing.”

“Bullshit is what it is. They have girls in every city. Probably more than one.” Nat crossed her arms. “Hypocrites, the lot of them.”

“Hypocrisy is the principle they live by. And you’re well aware of it. Look, all I’m trying to say is that you’re getting in a little deep. And that’s something, coming from me.” Susan rose, padding toward the bar. “You’re playing with fire, love. And somebody’s going to get burned.”

Nat’s attention returned to the glittering lake. Maybe Sue was right. It was a lot to handle. And she’d promised herself she’d not get involved. It was a load of trouble, but more importantly, a potential career killer, and she was just starting to gain real traction. The rattle of glass against crystal filled the air, and Natalie glanced at her aunt. “Isn’t it a bit late in the day for bloody marys?”

“My day just started, sweet. This is breakfast.” Susan tipped the vodka, pouring liberally. “Would you like one? I hate to drink alone, and seeing as how Christian’s stuck at the casino with your boyfriend-”

“My boyfriend? Really?”

“Well, one of them,” Sue drawled, capping the bottle.

“What’s he doing down there?”

Susan rifled through the swizzle sticks, finally opting for her discarded stalk of celery. “Why, it’s the soundcheck, darling. Don’t you remember?”

Oh, shit. Natalie stole a peek at the clock on the bookcase. “Sue, will you call a car? I’m late.”

* * *

“So, you shag her yet?”

Robert rolled his eyes. “It’s none of your business, Bon-”

“That’s a no.” Bonzo cackled, his gaze for an instant darting lower. “You must be in a bloody bad way then, yeah?”

The singer expelled a tense breath, partly in frustration at the lack of filter on his friend but mostly because he was spot on. The night had been magical … sweet, loving, and far from chaste, but not quite the scenario that he’d hoped for. Robert clenched his jaw as Bonzo droned on.

“Well, never mind that. We’ll be in the States before long. Plenty of birds there.”

The drummer spoke the truth, but somehow the words were far from consoling. Robert needed Natalie, not some random girl from the third row. He’d resigned himself to the fact that it was probably going to take time, and he wasn’t going to pressure her or speed things along. He wanted her to want him so badly she couldn’t wait another minute. He knew it would be worth it in the end, but, fuck, he wished the clock would tick just a tiny bit faster. Still, it had been a joy simply being with her, their playful kisses and quiet whispers as they explored each other. Christ, he’d never seen somebody get so wet. It drove him completely mad. She knew it, too, flashing him the wicked little smile usually reserved for when she got her way, which was most of the time. And how she would secretly study him when she didn’t think he could tell what she was doing. Absolutely adorable. Ahh, and her eyes, so big and dark, one second wide and nervous, the next sly, devious. And sexy. Fucking hell, so sexy. He’d watched them close as she’d fallen asleep in his arms, the moonlight finally melding into morning. She’d woken up in them, too, a tangly-haired, sleepy-eyed mess. His tangly-haired, sleepy-eyed mess. He clenched his jaw again, tamping his body’s response.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, mate. You’re a fuckin’ lost cause.”

Robert blinked, finding Bonzo through the film of the reverie. “What?”

“Get out of your head. And I’m not talkin’ about the one on your shoulders.” The drummer lit a cigarette, blowing out a thin stream of smoke. “I was saying you’re a lost cause. And that your girl’s even later that you thought she’d be.”

Robert canvassed the clock hanging haphazardly above the catering table. Bonzo was right. She was going to miss the soundcheck. Damn it. For a moment, he considered ringing her, as he’d done earlier. Meh, it’ll probably still be busy. They must have it off the hook. He snagged a Chimay from the small aluminum tub they’d set up as a makeshift cooler. What was she doing? She’d been gone for over three hours. It didn’t take that long to shower and fetch fresh clothes. Odd, very odd. His stomach rumbled as the aroma of newly delivered short ribs wafted through the room, and with a sigh, he pushed the thought away.

Nat sprang out of the taxi, hustling across the street before the light changed. She rounded the corner, bound for the casino, stopping in her tracks at what awaited her. A throng of people encompassed it, packed shoulder to shoulder along the sidewalks. She scanned the smoky crowd, lingering on a trio of girls that were casing those around them apprehensively. They know they aren’t getting in. In truth, most weren’t. There were simply too many of them. Some were seemingly stoned enough not to care, but that wouldn’t be the case with everyone. Summoning her reserve, she dove into the thick of it, worming her way through with resolute determination. Weathering a few scowls and cross words, she finally reached the tall double doors that marked the entrance to the concert hall. She rapped on the glass, waving to Tom, who was in conversation with a security guard she didn’t recognize. She slipped through the crack he made for her, leaning back against the doors as they shut.

“You should have come around the other way.”

Her eyes flickered to his. “Appreciate the advice, Captain Hindsight. I thought this way would be quicker. I had no idea there would be so many people.”

“You missed the soundcheck.”

Nat waved her hand dismissively. “Couldn’t be helped.”

“Robert didn’t look too happy.”

She ignored the ribbing and the goofy smile on his face. “Are you going to get to film? I did my best.”

“Looks like it. But that Grant guy ... he’s, um-”

“Formidable. I know. Just don’t fuck it up, and you’ll be fine.” She smirked, brushing past him as he turned a shade paler.

She located the boys in the private anteroom adjacent to the hall. Robert and Bonzo were in the corner, hovering over one of the catering tables while Peter and Christian reclined on the sofa, discussing McCartney’s new band, Wings. John Paul and Jimmy were in opposite folding chairs, quietly tuning their guitars and sipping Heineken. Such a contrast to the wild sea of fans just meters away.

“You’re late. You missed the sound check.”

Natalie glanced toward the source of the grumpy proclamation, squelching her amusement. Robert was posing, hands on hips, pouting like an overgrown toddler. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me for having a life. I had to go back home at some point.”

The singer grumbled. “There was a song I wanted to do for you.”

“Sneak it into Whole Lotta Love. You put everything else in there.” She blew him a kiss, falling into the sofa next to Peter, who patted the top of her leg with a beefy hand.

“What’s it like out there, love?”

“It’s a madhouse. I mean, everyone’s being cool, but I bet there are four or five thousand people. And this place only holds two.” She caught Jimmy appraising her out of the corner of her eye. “Have you thought of maybe piping the sound outside?”

“Bloody hell, no!” Peter scoffed, crushing his cigarette. “We do that and there’ll be twenty fuckin’ boots on the shelves before it’s even bloody over.”

Natalie dropped her bag on the end table. “So what? Christian’s filming the damn thing.”

“Yeah, but he’s not trying to sell it.”

“Well, I think you’re making a mistake. These people came from miles away, and some of them are going to be pretty pissed off when they realize they can’t get in. You should give them something.”

“Peter, I agree with Natalie. They deserve it for travelling from so far away.”

She pursed her lips to quell her smile. The band leader had spoken, and that sealed the deal. With a grunt, Peter stood, gesturing to Christian, and the two men disappeared into the hall. Nat kicked off her sandals, curling her legs underneath her.  “If it’s any consolation, I believe you’re doing the right thing.”

“T’was a good idea.” Jimmy angled his guitar against the sofa. “Peter’s a bit too protective at times.”

“It means quite a lot that you’re allowing Christian to film the concert.”

Jimmy rose, taking the manager’s former seat. “He’s promised us discretion and full authority to destroy it if we deem that necessary.”

“I see.” The cagey nature of the group was no secret. They ran a tight ship and a closed shop, the collaboration with Sandy Denny being one of the rare exceptions. If something didn’t show Zeppelin in the best possible light, it didn’t get shown. Or it disappeared. Nat had heard rumblings about an episode in Bath the previous year. The boys meant business. “Do you ever think you might regret being so heavy-handed about things like bootlegs? Maybe one day you might wish there were more.”

Jimmy met her gaze. “Regret isn’t in my nature. It’s wasteful. And I tend to believe that events transpire as they’re meant to.”

Nat had forgotten what a curious color his eyes were. Not quite green, but not quite hazel. There wasn’t really a name for it. “Like destiny, you mean?” She watched them narrow for a fraction of a second, his response lost to the raucous shouts behind her.

“Bonzo, you fucking git! You’ve ruined it!”

“I told you not to touch my food, mate.”

Nat twisted around to find an extremely furious Robert holding up his black bolero, which was slathered in a reddish-brown sauce. As Bonzo dissolved into a fit of boisterous laughter, she did the same, her hand sailing to her mouth.

“Fuck you, mate.” The singer shoved him mightily, stumbling backwards as his friend returned the favor.

Nat jumped up as they repeated the action, warily circling each other. “Cut it out, you guys.” She yanked the blouse from Robert’s grasp, surveying the damage. “Don’t be such a baby. This will come out with a wash. It’ll be as good as new by tomorrow.”

“Well, what am I going to wear tonight, then?”

“Who gives a fuck, Percy. Just prance around like you always do.”

Robert flew at him, but Bonzo was ready. With surprising agility, he skipped to the side, sending the singer straight into Natalie. She hit the ground with a resounding thud. “Goddamnit! What are you doing?”

“Christ, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

Robert held out his hand, but Nat smacked it, grabbing Bonzo’s instead. “You’re like a bull in a china shop. Too rowdy.” She dusted the dirt from the back of her dress, freezing as she spied a newly formed rip in the sleeve of her cardigan. “Damn it! Look what you did.”

Robert picked up the discarded bolero, draping it on the arm of the sofa as he peered over her shoulder. “Did I do that? It’s not so bad.” He grinned as she glared at him.

“I just bought it.” Sliding off the sweater, Natalie inspected the tear. “And now I’ll have to get it mended.”

Robert tugged the cardigan away, his mouth curving as he admired the white and yellow daisies along the placket and collar. “This is rather nice. Blue, too, my favorite color.” He nibbled his lip. “I don’t suppose you’d consider letting me-”

“I want it back. Fixed.”

“You’re on, lads!” Peter’s voice rumbled through the room. It was time.

[jamiebluewind]

My Sides

Note: I decided to make depression a disorder that impacts me and my sides to varying degrees depending on a variety of factors.

Apathy/Rue: Over sleep, disasociation (which can be handy during a crisis), laziness, relaxing, calming down, zoning out, and meh days. Favorite hobby is doing nothing. Doesn't care what pronouns you use for them. Depression causes them to be heightened to the point of causing emotional numbness and loss of all motivation.

Appearance: Perpetual bedhead. Short brown hair with two pale baby blue hair streaks due to fading. Wears an oversized baggy mens cotton tee with a few tiny holes in it and a chest pocket (for candy). They only wear pants when they have to. Otherwise, it's tiny cotton shorts that barely cover them. Owns one pair of flip flops (that they never wear). Fuck bras and shaving.

*

Restlessness/Max: Over obsessions, compulsions, anxiety, worry, fight/flight/friend/freeze, cognative distortions, and intrusive thoughts. Just a ball of nervousness and overthinking. Loves to research, fixate on topics, theorize, plan for "what if?" scenarios, and overshare about their latest thing. Bad with directions. Has a thing about symmetry. Constantly fidgeting or pacing. Does not do chill. The most likely to cause people to say "that's fucked up" when talking about something they thought of. Most likely to have a friend or freeze response in a dangerous situation. Will bolt when in danger if you trigger their flight response, even if where they end up puts them in more danger. Will act like a rabid animal and attack if you somehow trigger their fight response. They can make Logic harder to hear, but whatever gets through can help them balance out. Apathy can block their fight/flight/friend/freeze response. Depression causes their intrusive thoughts to become much darker.

Appearance: Somewhat messy short brown hair from constantly running their fingers through it. Glasses are a bright color (blue or purple?) so they are harder to misplacd and are either on their face or sitting on top of their head. Eyebags. Long soft scarf around their neck which provides comfort and something to mess with. Long sleeve shirt that's a solid muted or soft color as to not draw attention. A cami underneath just in case. Darker bluejeans (because they hide stains, are durable, and what if period!) with a small flashlight hooked on one of the loops. A hoodie tied around their waist. White sneakers. A wristlet purse with a few emergency items. A hidden necklace with emergency information.

*

Emotion/River: Over feelings, nostalgia, empathy, love, comforting others, gender identity, and sexuality. Aggressively cares about their friends. Would move heaven and earth to help others. Is a bit of a hoarder. Gender fluctuates between demigirl, bigender, and female. Loves art and fiction. Is both childish and profound. Loves moodrings. Depression either mutes all their emotions but sadness (and sometimes anger) or leaves her comatose.

Appearance: Short brown hair is soft and a little fluffy with two bright blue streaks at the front. Bright clothes with lots of colors. Jewelery that suits their mood. Has 2 colorful pronoun bracelets. Always wears at least one mood ring. Beautiful colorful tattoos without a unified theme (although many are cute or look like they came from a cartoon or comic). Several ear piercings and one sparkly nostril. Wears eyeliner and lip tint when she feels like dressing fem and occasionally uses eyeshadow. Clothes are usually androgynous. T-shirt has writing on it that made her smile. Shirt has a crew cut on "they days" and a v-neck on "she days". Reflective rainbow colored novelty purse. Sandals. Owns one floofy long skirt. The rest of their bottoms are shorts, capris, or pants. They usually wear capris.

*

Logic/Jo: Over intelligence, knowledge, curiosity, theorizing, the logical side of beliefs, and objectivity. Loves learning and reading non-fiction, but is fond of certain fictional works. Schedules, pay the bills, and self care. Open minded. Loves to research and has a massive library of knowledge, but due to the multi-dimensional nature of their room, information sometimes ends up stored in the wrong place. Fascinated by religions on an intellectual, historical, and cultural standpoint and uses what she learns to be mindful and respectful. Can counteract cognative distortions, but can also cause or amplify fixations on her quest for knowledge. Stubborn. Depression causes them to have difficulty functioning and sometimes become distorted until they find reasons to do dangerous or harmful things.

Appearance: Short brown hair is always professional. Simple glasses have dark blue, almost black frames. No piercings or tattoos. Cotton polo and slacks. Only jewelery is an elegant stirling necklace with a long chain and a large simple diamond shaped charm (one side says "She" while the other says "They"). Comfortable professional black loafers.

*

Creativity/Journey: Over inspiration, creativity, brainstorming, certain types of problem solving, ingenuity, out of the box thinking, writing, singing, photography, other creations, worldbuilding, jokes, puns, acting, and certain types of lying to others. Frequently goes on tangents. Run on sentences. Can be a little too energetic and random. Once inspired, they can't stop thinking about something until it's done or they run out of inspiration or drive. Has a wall of books for cataloguing ideas and unfinished projects (often taking from several old ones to build a new one), but the order has no rhythm or reason (even to them). Can be heightened or hindered by Restlessness. Apathy can help Creativity with daydreams and less fear, but make it difficult for them to take action. Depression makes them barely function, save acting and negative ideas.

Appearance: Dark purple hair with several bright blue hair steaks. Ear piercings and one sparkly dermal near their left eye. Purple eyeliner. Modified a pair of comfy overall shorts (aka shortalls) to be backless with a halter top fit (instead of the traditional tank top fit) so they would have lots of pockets to store stuff while having the most skin exposed to show off their extensive tattoos. Tends to wear a strapless binder or halter top underneath to avoid boob slips. Runs around in socks indoors, but has hiking boots for outside. Tattoos are artistic with heavy symbolism as well as quotes.

*

Ambiguity/Duo: Over morally gray areas, lying to others and oneself, telling the truth to others and oneself, spotting both deceit and honesty in others, superstitions, the illogical side of beliefs, seeing the good in the bad and visa versa, sarcasm, and occasional devil's advocate. Not quick to judge. Sees gender as a social construct, but also that some people require it. Sees religion as something that is not necessary for them to be happy, but knows it is important to others and will fight for those rights (as long as it doesn't hurt the individual, others, or society itself). Balances the line of what is and is not socially acceptable. Personal truths. Has a very "you do you" attatude. Probably enjoys yoga and certain fiction, especially ones that subvert expectations and/or tropes. Depression causes them to become skewed. Because of this, some things become amplified (lies to self and others, seeing the bad in good,...), some things become weakened (honesty, seeing the good in bad, spotting honesty,...), and some things become tainted (deceit is spotted when none is there, beliefs become tainted,...).

Appearance: Right half of face is white while the left half is black. A gray part in the middle where one color fades into the other that's about the width of their lips. Hair and clothing follow the same theme with the only color being their blue hazel eyes. Hair is held back with a metallic silver headband. Button up shirt with a sheer back (similar look to this). One glove on the left side. Bottoms are pinstripe palazzo pants or culottes. Ballet slippers. Has an ornimental tattoo on their back and one on each ankle.

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Other facts...

My sides all have their individual jobs and functions, but they also work together on certain things.

My morality comes from Emotion, Logic, and Ambiguity. They work together despite their frequent disagreements.

Beliefs come from Logic and Ambiguity. Emotion can help by attaching a feeling to each belief.

If my ego is hurt, it effects Creativity, Emotions, and/or Logic depending on which was targeted. The same goes for the opposite (such as when praised).

Having my ego hurt make Restlessness freak out and overthink everything.

Despite Emotion having main control over gender identity (mine being femfluidflux), Logic has some input. Occasionally, Apathy or Ambiguity have a say.

Creativity literally created a new type of clothing for their needs. The halter shortalls currently do not exist to my knowledge.

All the sides have a varying level of fondness for cats. Apathy respects their chill. Restlessness finds them calming as well as a good way to release nervous energy. Emotion's heart just melt from the adorableness and wants all snuggles. Logic appreciates the proven medical benefits of having a pet. Creativity loves making cat toys, taking photos, and playing games with cats. Ambiguity admires their independence and controlled chaos. Their opinions on other animals varies.

None of my sides are entirely good or entirely bad. They also balance each other. (Apathy can help Emotion and Restlessness chill. Emotion can help Apathy when they get heightened. Restlessness can help spur the others into action as well as fixate to help Logic and Creativity. Emotion gives Logic and Creativity encouragement as well as helping make sure writing hits right in the feels. Logic helps the others with facts and helps break through negative thinking and spirals. Creativity helps connect thoughts in new and exciting ways and helps Restlessness find new ways to coop. Ambiguity helps the others make the hard decisions and keeps Logic from becoming too ridged.)

[the-little-red-noodle]

10/2/19 5:56am

This is the 2nd night in a row i have been keep up all night by thoughts, mostly about this boy.

I met him at larp. He’s a fairly powerful warden and sorcerer, and i met him (in game, in character) in a tavern. People were paying him to draw wards on them (which give you in game advantages). I always notice peoples teeth first, and he has really cute teeth and a really cute smile. He was very attractive. I asked what he was doing and he briefly explained what the wards are and i was like cool, and started to walk away, and then he was like “I’ll give you one for free” and reached out his hand to take mine. He drew an anti perm ward on my left hand and was really sweet about it. I said thanks and proceeded to leave the tavern. I kept thinking about him though.

It became a running joke between my closest friends and i that i was going to wander around and look for the hot mage. I didn’t have any other interactions with him at game, but i saw him around a couple times and would try not to stare too long.

After packing up and heading home, i texted patrick. He is in the same culture as the hot mage and so they interact a lot. I asked what his name was and proceeded to do a *very small* amount of fb digging, just to see if he was single, ya know just in case. I then went on the page where everyone was doing their post game posts so people can find each other and i saw his. I liked it, friended him, and wrote a little comment.

“Thanks for teaching me about warding in the tavern, you seem really cool and i hope we can interact more next game”. He liked it and commented back to talk him up about warding sometime. He friended me back and then liked my profile picture and i was like interesting...

I was planning for the long road. Give it a couple days then dm him about warding, or just conveniently show up at a combat practice where i knew he would be and be casual and flirty then. Or try to flirt with him next game, over a month from now. But then he dmed me.

“Hey i hope the warding stuff worked out alright. Your costume was very cute btw”

I saw this while texting my friends joking about “operation hot mage” and it being my characters one true objective to hook up with him ha ha it’s never gunna happen tho, and then he just slid in my dms and called me cute?? Like who is running this mod, it’s not realistic.

I sweat and overthink for a bit and then finally, with heavy encouragement from my friends, messaged him back.

“I remember you being exceedingly cute as well” and then i inmediately change the subject to talking about warding vs alchemy and i can’t decide HAHAHAHAHA

He replied with an “Awwh thanks ^-^” and then we discussed magic for a bit. Ya know, normal small talk things, apprentice vs journeyman scrolls, mana control, herbalism. Basic stuff.

Then he was like oh we also have a combat practice that meets every weekend, id love to see you there sometime. And i was like yeah sounds awesome, i hope to see you there and he was like “I would very much like that as well 😊”

So of course, based on this, i should overthink right? Because of course we’ll hook up and of course he’ll want to date me because of course I’m irresistible. But like.. none of that could be true. Maybe he was just being friendly, and then i made it weird calling him cute outright because he only said my outfit was cute, so really I’m the one who made it weird, and I’ll be super awkward next time i see him because of course i will because i don’t know how to flirt and of course I’ll say something wrong or I’ll be too enthusiastic or not enthusiastic enough and eveerything will be ruined.

And on top of those anxieties, it’s like, hey, even if all those (unlikely) assumptions are true, like.. am i even looking for a relationship? Like a truly monogamous relationship. Cuz i really like being with my goth couple and hanging out and hooking up with them and i like where the general friendship is going.. and then theres emily and we kinda have a thing right now, and we cuddle and are affectionate but it’s not a relationship and she might be ace so idk... then theres dempsey which is it’s own enormous can of worms that boils down to if we get together again, it’s for the long haul. So yes of course i want that, and i want to be with him again, but at this very moment, i don’t really want to give up my other interactions. Not because i want someone else to be my forever person, but because i want the experiences and i want to be single wnough to be in control of this sort of thing and i am right now, but then enter hot mage and my structure is breaking a little.

No joke this is the 2nd night in a row i have not slept because I’m thinking about him. I keep looking at screenshots of our conversations and this one photo i saved off of his fb because he has such a cute smile..

But I’m overthinking and that’s unhealthy. My therapist said the same thing after i was doing this nonsense when emily and i started hanging out more. I can’t let things sit for a minute. I wanna skip ahead and see how the story ends.

But i can’t really do that here until i see him. Cuz also, I’ve only interacted with Archmaster Kayn, not the real person. And based on his post game post, he is “not his character”. His character was just really suave and a little bit of an asshole but i was like 🤤.. so I’m eager to see what the real guy is like. Also notice i say guy and not his name because *sigh* his name is ryan and i feel like talking about a ryan usually is referring to dempsey so that’s something i gotta get used to.

I like him tho.. he’s so attractive and nerdy and has great hair.. all that’s left is actually talking to him in person out of character and seeing how we mesh then. Maybe he’s not even a little bit interested and i can move on. Or maybe he’s dtf which would be amazing. Or maybe he would want to date and id have to figure out if i want that or not.. or we could just be really good friends.

I’m kinda cool with whatever but i can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t put it out of my mind for long enough to focus on anything else. I can’t focus on school or friendships or any other potential relationship because i keep trying to remember what his voice sounded like, or trying to imagine what his personality is like, or trying think of things to talk to him about when i see him on saturday.. I’m so nervous about all of it.

It’s 6:30 in the morning and i haven’t had a minute of sleep tonight. Is this how it’s going to be until i see him? What if i waste all this sleep and time thinking about him and then i get in person and I’m like, meh. I’m over it. Cuz that’s happened before. I build things up in my head and then I’m disappointed by the outcome. And that wouldn’t even be his fault, cuz like he said, he’s not his character. So maybe i was just fawning over the suave hot mage when in reality he’s nothing like that..

I just can’t let it go. I find him so attractive.. it’s kind of pathetic. Why am i like this. Also, why must i get bored when it’s no longer a hunt?.. that’s probably why I’ve stayed so interested in emily because like nothing is set in stone and so much is up in the air that theres like still some work to do. And my mind likes a challenge. Hence i was gearing up for the long battle of ~make the hot mage fall in love with me over a series of months~ but then he just outright calls me cute and i have no idea what to do.

What if he’s creepy? What if he’s a virgin? What if he has no direction in life? What if he’s 45? What if he actually is an asshole?.. or a fuckboi, cuz christ i do not need another one. That’s why i like the nerdy boys cuz theyre so rarely also undercover assholes. Theyre usually cute and awkward and nervous but the payoff is amazing. Nerds tend to appreciate the hell out of their partners, plus i find them way more attractive usually than the pretty boy/fuckbois of the world.

I just wanna get to know him. I just wanna listen to him talk about magic. I just wanna sit on a park bench with him and talk about magic and maybe touch my knee to his. Really that’s all.

But here i am at almost 7am really just playing out every possible scenario.

What is i invite him over and he thinks my room is childish? Or he notices the rips in my comforter? What is he thinks I’m fat? Or he thinks I’m not as interesting in person and out of character as he thought.. even though my character is basically just me and talks and sounds almost exactly like me.

Still, what if he thinks I’m boring or dumb or since i don’t know game mechanics that I’m not worth talking to. What if xyz?

I really can’t eat or sleep these past two days. I can’t focus. I’m also like really horny cuz i haven’t gotten laid in 3 weeks which is a lot for me, so it’s possible that most of this is projected at poor hot mage because i need to get laid and he called me cute so therefore the hunt is on.

But also maybe i shouldn’t be meddling in peoples lives. When if he turns out to be really sweet and i just stomp in trying to hookup and hurt his feelings. I mean guys do that all the time but it’s different for me. Every guy I’ve hooked up with (except 3 ways with couples) has wanted a relationship with me so i kinda don’t know any better.

I want to sleep. I want to eat something. My stomach is hurting but I’m too tired to get up and feed myself. I just want to talk to him and compliment him and play dumb and pretend like i don’t understand the game mechanics of basic magic so that i can listen to him explain it to me..

What even am i doing