#my extended family again but rn im also like!!!! fuck!!! im so fucking depressed i wanna fucking kill myself

[lesbeamofsunshine]

in a really fucked up way its absolutely fucking infuriating being like "whaa I have nothing to live for" while quite literally having something to live for

[ofstarsandvibranium]

personal venting below cut

trigger warning: depression, suicide, self harm, toxic family

ignore if you want

i first want to preface this and tell you that i'm physically okay.

this past month, i've been back at my home in northern california. for the past 10ish months, i've been living in southern california with my brother, for school. moving out and being away from my home has been great. i feel so free and at peace.

a few months ago, my grandma fell into a stroke. she was at the hospital for a month and afterwards, she was able to come home. since then, my mom and auntie have been working hard to take care of her while waiting for the paper work for home health services to go through.

i decided to come home to help them out for two weeks. i ended up extending my trip to a full month to continue to provide help, but in doing so, it also made my depression and anxiety increase.

my home isn't ideal. i have a toxic, hoarding father and a shopaholic mother. that combination has resulted in my siblings and i living in a pigsty of a home. if you've seen the show hoarders, it's kinda like that, but not as gross. we can barely see the floor, things are piled high to the ceiling. my parents refuse to get rid of stuff because of "sentimental value" or "saving it for others". it's bullshit.

anyway, any time i'm home now, i'm overwhelmed because it's all cluttered and messy and it's like cleaning doesn't help at all.

and then the situation with my grandma. i don't mind helping but at the same time, my grandma is stubborn. she doesn't let my sister and i do much because she wants my mom or auntie to do it. my auntie is also moving out of the house she's renting because the owners are selling and one her sons, my shitty ass cousin, isn't helping while his brother, my other cousin, does all the work. my shitty ass cousin, while his mom and brother are struggling to move out, and his grandma needs help being looked after, is off partying with his friends and going to tahoe and texas. like what the fuck. and when we call him out on his shit, he plays the victim and makes it all about him. fuck that guy.

anyway, i'm pretty much being surrounded by so much stress, toxicity, and negativity that my mental health has completely depleted.

which lead to my episode yesterday.

yesterday, i woke up and felt absolutely suicidal. i was supposed to go to my grandma's and because i was feeling so shitty. i didn't. i just kept driving while sobbing and going through this mental war with myself. i was thinking about driving off the rode and offing myself. and i almost cut myself with knife that i keep with me for self defense.

my mom and sister were expecting me at my grandma's at 3pm and when i didn't show up they started texting and calling me but i didn't answer because i put my phone on silent. i drove about an hour and a half away from home and called my mom. she asked me where i was and i told her. i told her what was going on and i told her i didn't want to be home. so she said to go do what makes me happy: shop.

so i went to the nearest mall and walked around. bought a few things, got ramen, and came home. i didn't hurt myself, i almost did, but i didnt.

I'm physically fine, but mentally I'm not. I'll still put a smile on my face and joke around with my family because that's what i do best is pretend that i'm not hurting when i'm really am.

now, we come to today.

my dad talked to me, asked me how i'm feeling and i was honest. i still feel shitty and i don't want to be here. so he asked if i wanted to still come back home after going back down to celebrate my brother's birthday on the 30th (i'm driving down with my sisters).

because i said i don't want to go back, my parents now have to cancel their anniversary trip that they planned for the week of 4th of july. they didn't do anything on their actual anniversary because an emergency house repair needed to be done and it's their 25th year anniversary. granted, my dad honestly didn't want to do anything because he's experiencing his own depression rn. my dad said that him and my mom are okay with not going on the trip. they said that it's fine and that their priority is me. my dad said i shouldn't feel guilty. but i still do feel guilty.

i'm so used to putting others' needs and feelings before myself that when i do put myself first, it feels wrong and selfish. i can't help but feel like im disappointing people by putting myself first and i hate it. being selfless is always seen as a good thing until you find out that i'm neglecting myself a lot in the process.

anyway, because im not coming back home, that means my sisters need to fly back up and my sister started to complain about how she has to rethink about what she needs to bring and can't bring on the trip and i feel so bad. like i could see how annoyed it made her, and i got upset with myself, for being so fucked up in the head that i made thinks difficult for her and everyone else.

i hate being this way. i should probably start going to therapy again and getting medicated again because i just can't do this anymore.

[purplesurveys]

1170

survey by purplehugger

Would you ever get a tattoo? I would love to get one, and plans are definitely set for that. It’s just a matter of knowing when I’m finally finally FINALLY ready to have something permanent placed on my skin.

Can you live without your phone? Technically yes, but I would have a very hard time since I use it for a lot of things, if not all the things I do on a daily basis; and I imagine I’d grow cranky very fast.

What animal do you resemble? I’m not so sure about resemble...I can tell you my personality matches best with dogs, though. I always have a great time with them.

What is your best friend’s name? I have two of them, Angela and Andi.

What is/was your favorite subject in school? History, followed by honestly any social sciences course out there...geography, anthropology, political science, etc. I definitely hogged those classes in college as much as my curriculum allowed me to.

Would you ever adopt a stray puppy? I would adopt every single one I see if I could.

Do you like chocolate? Chocolate-flavored sweets, yes. Actual chocolate or chocolate bars, not so much.

What is your favorite word? Poignant always seems to hit me straight in the feels.

Have you ever done something really stupid? Erm, of course? I do it at least once a day.

What was the worst mistake you ever made? Y’all have heard it a million times by now, but it’s tolerating shit I knew I didn’t deserve. Also, touching a plugged clothes iron when I was 7.

Can you say the alphabet backwards? I did at one point, but I didn’t practice it and now I don’t know how to do it anymore.

How high can you count? Any number as long as money is involved, hahaha.

You are very loved. True or False? True.

Do you like Taylor Swift? Not so much.

Do you want any piercings? Yes, one on each of my ears; I got pierced as an infant.

Have you ever stolen something? Random lost pens at school.

Do you like seafood? Looooooove seafood. I literally have 24 pieces of sushi right next to me right now; just a lil Friday treat for myself heehee.

What is your least favorite name? That seems a bit harsh. I don’t think I hate any name that much so as to call it my least favorite.

What do you want to name your child? Olivia or Mia is still on the table for me.

Do you like the color green? Just the olive shade. Otherwise it’s my least favorite color.

Do you have lots of friends? I would say I have enough to be happy. I don’t know what exactly ‘many’ means.

Are you listening to anything right now? Yeah, my friend group put up a Discord server just tonight and Jo proceeded to start a BTS playlist earlier. Everyone’s since hopped out for the night, but the playlist is still on so I’ll be staying around for the meantime and vibe. :) Just me, BTS, and my sushi haha.

What time is it? 10:04 PM.

Are you hungry? No, I’m taking bites every once in a while as I take this survey.

What was the last thing you ate? Sushi. I got 3 kinds for tonight: Singaporean Roll, Dynamite Roll, and Mount Fuji Roll. All so good. 

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? I never did.

Do you know any gay people? Many.

Do you have any pets? Yes.

Would you ever own a monkey? Probably not. I wouldn’t be equipped to care for them.

Do you enjoy reading? Essays and memoirs, yes.

--

survey by xxbieberburnham

Do you know anyone who has been attacked by a shark? Not to my knowledge.

What is your best friend's mom name? Girlie and Ria.

Have you ever made out in a movie theatre? No.

What part of your body do you wash first? Hair.

Do you have an innie or an outie? Innie.

How do you think the dinosaurs died? Giant asteroid.

What's your favorite flavor of Pringles? Just the original one. But tbh Pringles are so addictive anyway, I’ll always take more than one of any flavor if they were ever offered to me.

What was the last thing you got grounded for? Low grades, which was really the only reason why I ever got grounded.

Did you go to a water park last summer? No, and I doubt anyone else did either...

What shoe do you put on first? Usually the right.

Finish the sentence: Girls... Are powerful.

Have you ever had a song or poem written about you? Poem, yeah. I don’t think I would particularly appreciate an entire song being written about me though, I think that would just make me cringe lol.

Did you have a nickname growing up? Nothing like an affectionate pet name. My longest-lasting nickname is just a shortened version of my name used by family, but otherwise everyone calls me by my first name.

When was the last time you played the air guitar? Never.

Have you ever bitten your toenail? Only as a kid.

How often do you clean out your ears? Every other day.

Do you scrunch or fold your toilet paper? Fold.

Have you ever been dared to do something that you regretted? Nothing major. One instance I can remember is when I was dared to pick up food from the ground, and when I bit into it it already had some tiny tiny stones and some debris on it D:

Favorite website? Twitter, probably. Or YouTube.

Worst thing that has ever happened to you? Losing two relatives I was close to in the span of four days to Covid. I am so fucking glad we made the decision to celebrate Christmas with extended family last year, no matter how ignorant it was. It absolutely sucks that I will never see them again.

Best thing that has happened to you? Recovering from my depression last year and choosing to stay. I’m living a really happy life rn.

If you could dye your hair any color, what color would it be? Dark green.

Do you have a Wii? We used to but we threw it out a few years ago since it wasn’t working anymore.

Most used phrase on IM? I think I just say “Hahahahaha” excessively lmao. Picked it up from my bosses.

Have you ever heard of The Beatles? Yes.

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (15)

A/N: 👏🏼COME👏🏼GET👏🏼Y'ALLS👏🏼FLUFF👏🏼 this is SUCH a fluffy chapter im LIVING!!! all these slow moments are so much fun i'm actually just soft rn. gOd.also, realizing that this probably isn't slow burn. since it like. happens over the course of a day and a half. there're just hints that they've all been either pining or in denial for forever . so whoops

i’m at my family’s house right now, but after this i’ll be in my Stable Home™ for the foreseeable future. plus the next chapter is going to be.....so fun. :^) 

WARNINGS: I FUCKING FORGOT TO UPDATE THESE K. M. S.  wound mentions, self-deprecation — pretty sure that’s all there is in this one, but please let me know if i should add any more ! 

Words: 7390

AO3 link!

MASTERPOST! <– look here!! for the longterm warnings!! including sympathetic Deceit and cursing/swearing!

chivalry taglist: @starlightvirgil​ @forrestwyrm​ @daflangstlairde​ @marshmallow-the-panda​ @askthesnake​ @k9cat​ @patromlogil​ @theobsessor1​

general tag: @jemthebookworm​

enjoy !!! <3 <3 <3 

“Maybe you shouldn’t go to the ball tonight.”

The Thief shot the Bard another glare and turned his head to face the ceiling again. They’d been talking about the ball for about an hour. The Playwright had gone as soon as they’d explained, saying he didn’t like spending too much time in the Imagination’s action grounds, and the Artist then left to find the other Sides. 

If the Thief didn’t go with them, they wouldn’t have any protection. No one was willing to fight, much less fight the Dragon, and no one else alive could go toe to toe with him. 

But your wound….

Fuck off. 

It stings, doesn’t it?

“You know that doesn’t matter,” he said aloud.

“It matters so much,” the Bard whispered back.

He shifted, hand resting along the Thief’s tummy. After the Artist left, the Bard opted to lay down next to the Thief, hugging him as gently as he could around the stomach as to not jostle the bandages wrapped tight around the Thief’s chest. 

Sure, the Bard sung a ditty, used as much magic as the setting would allow, making sure the gash didn’t hurt and didn’t bleed and would heal quick. But he’d always had a soft spot for the Thief. They got along better than anticipated, given how fiery they were. He didn’t want the Thief feeling any sort of pain. Plus, pain wasn’t really their thing. 

“How’s Logan?” the Thief asked, for the fifth time.

Seeing Logan in distress had upset him more than the actual wound. The Bard clicked his tongue, almost annoyed at the Thief’s apathy for himself.

“Wonderfully,” the Bard promised, “He’s with Patton and Deceit, and they’re taking care of him.”

“Better than we would.”

“You could say that again.”

Distantly, they heard a door opened and closed again. That was likely the Artist coming back, the Bard thought, and he gently squeezed the Thief’s side. “Should I go check on them?” he whispered.

He felt the Thief shrug against him. 

Laying like this was calming. A little depressing as Roman realized he was cuddling against himself, but, well. What can you do. They both elected to wait until someone came in from the foyer, where the Artist had led everyone into and was now making six mugs of tea.

Logan was the last to enter, closing the door behind himself. Another throb of pain jolted through his head, and he couldn’t stifle a quiet groan. It felt like something was pushing on the inside of his skull, trying to break out. 

“Logan?” he heard Deceit ask.

He was leaning on the door now, hand still gripping the handle as he rested his forehead and tried to stop feeling dizzy. He squeezed his eyes shut tight as the fluorescent lights were just a bit too bright for him to handle. This was the worst bout yet. 

Multiple hands grabbed him, leading him slowly back to the couch he’d been at prior. 

“Logan, honey?” Patton asked. 

He laid down on the couch, shifting as the hands left. How expedient of a situation. The pain subsided only slightly, returning to sit in the back of his cranium. 

“Yo, Professor Plum, are you going to say something?” the Artist said. 

They all were sitting now, Deceit on the coffee table, Patton on the ground beside the couch and the Artist on the couch’s armrest. Logan’s eyes were still closed, but he lifted his thumb up, resting his hand on his stomach, and all of their shoulders loosened. 

“I have a headache,” Logan stated, “That is all. It will pass.”

The trio all looked worriedly at each other, gesturing at one another as though asking if they’d heard about this headache. As it became more and more apparent that this was news to all of them, Patton turned back to Logan. He knew how to deal with Logan’s occasional headaches, often brought on from Thomas overthinking things or having to deal with strenuous mental exercises. Or Taxes. It was tax season, after all.. 

“Darn. What kinda tea is that?” Patton asked, gesturing to the cups, “Do you have any peppermint?”

The Artist bit his lip and waved his hand over the cup. The scent, which had been light and fruity, shifted into mint. “Now it is,” he said, worry ebbing into his voice, “Is there anything else we can do?”

“How long have you had this headache?” Deceit asked, still watching Logan.

“Since we entered the Imagination. It was small, when we woke up in that forest yesterday,” Logan rubbed his forehead and took off his glasses, “Patton, can you hold these?”

Patton took them wordlessly and set them on the coffee table. 

“And you stated earlier that you’ve never been in the Imagination?” Deceit asked again. 

Patton glanced at him. Deceit was, once again, taking notes. Well, more like poking his pen against a specific page in his notepad. 

“Yes. I have never been here before.”

“Ah.” Deceit circled something on the page and poked his pen against it again.

“Ah?” the Artist asked, brow furrowing, “Ah, like, ‘ah, by Jove, I’ve got it’ kinda ah?”

It was Deceit’s job to ‘get it,’ as the Artist put it. But now he had to explain what was wrong. 

Something Deceit was very well known for being bad at. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but was first interrupted by Logan.

“Have YOU been in the Imagination before?”

Deceit bobbed his head to either side, thinking. “Yes. I have,” no need for details.

“Roman let you in?” Patton sounded surprised, and Deceit waved his hand.

“No, of course not.” and he was cut off again, this time by the Artist with a clearing of the throat. An incredibly offended clearing of the throat. 

“Yeah, no, we don’t let just anyone in. Do you see how much work we’ve put into this place? It’s more elaborate than the Marvel Cinematic Universe. You’ve come in a few times, just to help with memories in dreams, right? Virgil’s helped with a few nightmares. But mostly it’s just me. And….well,” the Artist pursed his lips and waved his hand, indicating ‘you know.’

Before anyone could ask follow up questions, he stood up. “I’m, uh, I’m gonna go check on Thief and Bard.”

The Thief, the Bard....wait, that was just three Romans. Deceit frowned up at the Artist’s retreating back, switching gears for a moment. “Where’s the Playwright?” 

“He doesn’t like being, uh, on stage. His words,” the Artist’s eyes flicked up for a second, before looking back at Deceit, “He’s also grabbing costumes for the ball tonight.”

The three Sides vaguely remembered the incredibly long corridor of costumes and the extended process of trying to dress for the medieval setting.

Logan frowned. The “medieval” setting indeed. It was so historically inaccurate that he was taking a running count of the innacuracies that seem to be without a Doylist explanation, and had been considering what the historically plausible alternatives were. What kinds of outfits would be accurate for a ball, though? 

He winced again, closing his eyes and laying down again as the headache bounded back in full force. 

Deceit, Patton, and the Artist all looked back at him. Truthfully, the Artist felt guilty; Logan seemed to be doing fine before he arrived, so the increase in headache-induced-acheing was probably connected to him. Somehow.

“I’m gonna bring Thief and Bard some tea,” he mumbled, picking up two of the mugs, “Sorry the Imagination sucks, Logan.”

And he darted away before any of them could tell him to not. 

Patton blinked, looking around. He could have sworn the Artist was just with them. Oh, he must have left. 

Had Logan had his tea? Patton had zoned out for a little there and hadn’t noticed. He shifted how he was sitting on the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest and looking around the room again. 

Where were they again?

Dr. Picani’s office, oh, yeah.

Where had the Artist gone?

“Artist….?” Patton hummed, quiet and to himself as to not interrupt the other two.

“Now,” Deceit seemed unphased by the Artist’s quick exit, turning back to Logan with his notepad, “It came back? Just now?”

“Yes. Stop talking for a second, please,” Logan raised a finger. 

Deceit nodded and puffed up his cheeks, looking up and around at the room. His eyes eventually landed on Patton, who was still looking around, vaguely confused. But now he was more confused about why he was so confused because, like, of COURSE he saw the Artist leave. Patton’s eyes refocused, blinking at Deceit. He waved one hand.

At first, Deceit’s expression didn’t change, and Patton lowered his hand. But then, slowly, Deceit blinked at him, then stuck his tongue out slightly.

“Blep,” Patton whispered.

Deceit smirked, and winked. Blep indeed.

Patton slapped his hand over his own mouth, stifling his giggles as Logan lowered his hand. “Alright. I am okay.”

“Good,” Deceit said, turning his attention quickly back to the logical side, “Now, actually, Patton.”

Patton perked up. “Mhm?”

“Do you feel any difference?” Deceit crossed his legs where he sat, pen sitting on his notepad as he waited. 

Patton tilted his head in thought, then shook it. “Not like a headache or anything,” he made a gesture with his hands, as though he were pulling something apart between them, “It’s like….like. A feelings-y thing. I’m feeling a little more airheaded than usual? You know, like how you feel right after we binge-watch The Office.”

Deceit watched him blankly. He didn’t have the heart to tell Patton that that made absolutely no sense because he wasn’t the overseer of Thomas’ emotional interpretation, so he just nodded. 

“Patton,” he turned to Logan, who was gesturing into the air above him while laying down, “I do not know what the fuck that means.”

And there Logan was with the incredibly tired realism. Patton deflated. “Oh,” he hummed, frowning at the ground as he thought of a new way to explain the sensation.

Honestly, it’d been building, like a burp. There were a lot of things going on he didn’t agree with, and a lot of things that plain hurt, but there were weird things he’d never felt before. 

Patton hummed angrily behind his lips, drumming his fingers against his chin for a moment in thought. What kinds of feelings had he never felt before? How would he know?

Gosh, that didn’t even make sense to him. Patton was getting his thoughts wrapped in a tizzy. He balled up his hands in his lap and tried again.

“Well, it’s like….like you’ve just experienced so much that you KNOW! You know you know what’s going to happen, but it still happens and you still feel everything, but not as big as before, like it’s an echo? Almost? It feels like I can kinda feel everything a lot always. And on top of that, I feel like I’m letting a lot more slide. Like, earlier. I know you’ve got a headache, but language.”

Logan sighed tiredly and Patton waved his hands a little frantically, backtracking. “I know! But I didn’t really register that! I had to think about it! But usually I can just, ya know, know, and usually you’d know too, right? It’s like what I’m feeling and what I’d USUALLY feel about things are all wonky, so I’m sensing things and feeling things a lot slower than usual.”

Logan exhaled, then rubbed his face with both of his hands.

That made only the tiniest modicum of sense. 

Well, it made perfect sense to the person who’d been looking for that answer. Deceit jotted down another note and exhaled, nice and slow. Eureka, he supposed.

How was he going to synthesize this in an understandable way?

“Logan, Patton, remember how surprised Bard, Thief, and Child were earlier, over how time was moving at a regular rate?” Deceit asked them both, looking up from his notes and raising an eyebrow. 

“Uh, huh. They said it’d been a whole week but you said it’d only been a few hours,” Patton crossed his legs on the ground and leaned back on the couch, head resting beside Logan’s shoulder.

“Exactly. And that time thing changed, what, when we first arrived here?” 

Logan raised an eyebrow. He still had his eyes closed, despite the fact that his headache had eased up once more. It was just pleasantly calming at this point. “Do you think our arrival into the Imagination had something to do with the time scale changing?”

Oh good, Logan got it instantaneously. Deceit clapped, nodding excitedly. “Yes!”

“But I dunno how to change anything in here. If we’re not trying to change things, then why’re they changing?” Patton slumped, knitting his eyebrows together in thought and tapping Logan’s hand, “You know anything about that, kiddo?”

“I’m afraid I have to confess ignorance to how the Imagination works. On this side, I assumed Roman controlled everything.”

That was valid; Deceit couldn’t profess to being an expert either, but what other explanation was there? He had other evidences, too. “But do you both remember how the town looked when we first arrived? Or the forest?”

Patton watched Deceit as his brows pinched even tighter. He was really trying to remember, and he knew what he thought it’d looked like, but he wasn’t sure. It did look different this morning compared to yesterday evening, too, but he couldn’t pinpoint in what ways.

“Not quite,” he made a so-so hand motion. “It sure looks different, though, but I dunno how.”

“I cannot either,” Logan said. “It looked like a town, but I cannot remember any precise details.”

“Neither can I, but that’s the point,” Deceit twirled his pen in the air, as though circling the town, “We know what it looks like now! It’s got detail.”

“Yes, possibly because we’ve been in the town for longer. It stands to reason that, the longer we are in an environment, the more that environment becomes familiar,” getting much farther away now, Logan, “That seems more likely than our entrance into the Imagination impacting the physical landscape.”

“Not just the physical landscape,” Deceit huffed, annoyed now as he crossed his arms, “I think all of us are adding our own assets to whatever story Roman’s trying to tell in here.”

Logan scowled at the ceiling. That was possible, but in Logan’s opinion, less plausible. He and Patton had no idea how to change things, especially how to change the things that Roman had so painstakingly built. 

In theory, it shouldn’t be any harder than striking a red line through it, similar to how he would when editing one of Roman’s scripts. But in practice, Logan wouldn’t know where to begin or what sorts of — he cringed — feelings it would envoke. 

COULD their very presence in the Imagination be changing it? His headaches usually stemmed from being overworked. Could he, as a Side, be overcompensating for the lack of Logic in an Imagination purely overrun by Creativity? 

Logan frowned at the ceiling. He would have to concede to Deceit — his theory made sense, the more Logan considered it.

Deceit looked from Logan to Patton, who was flapping his knees up and down while he sat. When he met Deceit’s eyes, he shrugged apologetically. Patton was still zipping slowly in and out of understanding; he’d always attributed that to the Imagination because, well, that’s just how the Imagination had always been for him. And implying that Roman’s imagination would be hurting them? That didn’t make sense! Roman would never, he wasn’t evil!

“I just thought it was ‘cause it was the Imagination. I wouldn’t want to change anything about what Roman’s making. Plus, Roman always talks about how creation doesn’t make sense, ya know,” he fixed his glasses and held his legs with both hands. 

“Does it not, or does Roman think it wouldn’t make sense to us?” Deceit asked. The uncertainty that passed over Patton’s face was interrupted by a cold question.

“What doesn’t make sense to you?” 

Deceit and Patton both looked over to the door, where the Artist had returned from the other room. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, posture rigid. 

Numbly, Deceit wondered how much he’d heard. The Artist met his gaze with a hardened glare, but nodded to the other room. “Thief wants to talk to you,” he stated, “Just you. And I wanna talk to Logan and Patton.”

The Artist had heard enough to be vaguely upset that they were talking about him behind his back. 

Deceit sighed and climbed off of the coffee table finally. He’d die before sitting in a seat correctly. 

“Fine. Maybe they’ll understand what I’m trying to say,” he stated, giving Patton a look that plainly read ‘Think about it or I’ll stab you with this sword.’

You know what, Patton took back the thing about Deceit being an actor. That anger was thinly veiled at best. 

But he also loved him. 

So Patton smiled at Deceit and blew him a small kiss. 

He absolutely hadn’t expected Deceit’s eyes to widen, nor for him to walk straight into the wall beside the hallway and sputter in indignation. 

Deceit slid into the other room quickly, avoiding the Artist. Which was fine. Completely. Fine.

The Artist walked back and sat down on the ground, beside Patton. He leaned his head back and nudged Logan’s hip. “Your head still hurt, Cranium Command?” he asked, voice much softer and….was that guilt?

Well, they couldn’t have the Artist blaming himself for a quandary he had no hand in. Plus, that was quite the Disney-rooted nickname, and Logan couldn’t deny that he was pleased with it. He shook his head with a quiet hum. “A little, but not as forcefully.”

“That’s good. Uh,” the Artist held one of his knees, letting the other leg straighten out beneath the table, “Playwright actually wanted me to ask why you haven’t looked at his book more often.”

“Oh?”

“Worm?” Patton added.

The Artist snorted, giving him a soft smile and nudging his arm. This Roman was real different, in Patton’s mind. So quiet and unsure of himself outside of the persona he’d built for himself, that of a worker. His smiles were like those tiny ones Roman would give, when wrapped beneath his arms, or when receiving praise for a job well done. 

He unthinkingly straightened the strings on the Artist’s hoodie, humming quietly, and the Artist took one of his hands. 

Before anything else, though, Logan grunted. Both of them scooted forward, letting Logan swing his legs carefully between them. “Let us peruse this book, then,” he murmured, taking the book from his coat once more. 

“Oh, yeah, THAT book!” Patton said, pointing to it. 

His hand lowered as they saw the cover. 

“Woah,” the Artist murmured, “Interesting design. I would have coated everything in the same level of golden foil, though. It’s a little unbalanced right now.”

Every bit of Roman’s crest was visible to some extent, indicating that they’d met everyone. That must mean, Logan realized, Virgil met the Damsel. He didn’t know if that alleviated some of his worries about never finding that particular Roman, or if it worried him that the center tower of the castle was the most blank portion of the entire crest. 

Should he point it all out? Would that be awkward, with the Artist present? The ocean’s (or was it a lake, because of the lake outside of the town’s walls) waves were present as a flat yellow color, not glittering but at least with vibrantly visible lines. The most bold part, glowing golden, was still the central spiralling sun. 

A part of Logan’s chest loosened, knowing that they hadn’t failed the Child, that he still believed in them all. In all honesty, seeing the entire crest, even the Dragon’s thin golden castle wall outlines, comforted some part of him that was worried they’d never reassemble Roman. 

Pattn pressed a finger to the cover. 

“What’s this all mean again?” he asked, brow furrowing in concentration.

He couldn’t, for the life of him, remember what the entire book was for. Which was super bad, considering the Playwright had given it to them yesterday. 

In his defense, though, it’d been a LONG, long, long, long, long day.

This was definitely going to get awkward. Logan didn’t particularly care, though; if the Artist had qualms with it, he would have to take it up with the Playwright. “The cover indicates how much we’ve ‘convinced’ every form of Roman that we appreciate his existence,” Logan explained.

“Ah.” The Artist’s voice was eerily level. 

“Oh, yeah! Wow, the Child really likes us,” Patton drew his finger along the outer edge of the crest, a thin line of ink in the indentation that was barely glowing, “What’s who?”

“We broke it up ourselves, I’m the waves,” the Artist pointed out himself, intrigue growing as he looked over the cover once more, “Interesting. I, uh. Wow. Interesting plot device.”

“That is likely why the Playwright is upset with me not using it as often. I did not expect this excursion to last for long, nor for it to go as fast as it is,” Logan rubbed the back of his neck, gently rubbing the spot where his neck connected to his skull.

The motion was not missed by Patton. “D’ya want a massage while you read?” he offered, standing up slowly.

Ah. Logan blinked up at Patton’s blurry face. Had he been able to see, he would have seen the gentle and ultimately fond smile he wore. “That would be lovely, Patton. Thank you,” he leaned forward and took his glasses from the table, slipping them back on as Patton climbed up onto the couch, sitting on the top of it behind Logan. 

His hands rested gently on Logan’s shoulders, then slid closer to his neck. A good call, to start with — oh, Patton was so gentle. Logan let the tension leave his shoulders and tried to focus on the book. If he thought too hard about the fact that Patton was intimately touching his shoulders….AND, if he thought about how much he was being touched currently, with the Artist’s head resting on his thigh, Patton’s hands on his back…

He straightened his back a little more and sniffed. Too many emotions today. 

“Looks like Bard’s bein’ a little bratty baby,” the Artist pointed to the mountains, dim in the crest’s background.

“His apprehension is valid. Trust should be earned,” Logan responded, raising his eyebrow at the Artist’s quoting, “I find that it is surprising that Dragon trusts us at all. Perhaps Virgil has spoken with him. If we were ranking….”

His eyes flicked to the Artist, who raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Give us your top seven Roman belief list,” he said, as though trying to comfort Logan’s worry.

“I’d like to hear, those lines do kinda look the same to me,” Patton added from behind, knees on either side of Logan’s shoulders giving him an awkwardly placed squeeze. 

The succor helped, at least. Logan blinked in place of a nod and looked back at the cover. “It appears that Child trusts us most, followed by you. Then it is Thief, and then Bard, then Playwright, Dragon, and Damsel.”

Patton sighed. He was still upset that the Playwright was feeling so disconnected from them. He’d actually been looking forward to spending some downtime with him, have an open discussion about what he wanted. Last time must have been dragged down by the need to, what’d he say? 

Provide exposition. Yeah! 

After all, Patton didn’t want to leave him waiting in the wings. 

He snorted to himself, leaning forward and almost pressing his head to Logan’s, before he stopped mid motion. That’d be bad, they had boundaries and all! He straightened up and cleared his throat. 

Playwright needed his turn in the spotlight. 

Patton let out a quiet laugh and shook his head.

“Well,” the Artist hummed, after they’d both starred at the cover for a few quiet seconds, “Open it.”

Ah. Right. Logan flicked the book open. The Artist said “ah” quietly and added, “Playwright mentioned the Author’s Notes. Didn’t say anything about reading it, but I’d recommend reading something with notes from him.”

That was the first section added. Logan suspected that that had been originally crossed off, before they even found the town, because it was written directly below the scribbled out section. He flipped the book’s pages, expecting only a few notes. Why would the Playwright write them authors’ notes if he was planning to visit them? 

The answer was more clear when he reached the page. The Artist whistled low, and Patton winced. “Oh, boy,” he murmured above Logan’s head. 

Logan simply didn’t react. 

The pages were full of notes, some scribbled out, some written large, some written hastily, some blotted out with water. Perhaps tears? The first note was written clearly, marked with a date and time even.

“I hope you understand, but I would prefer not to enter the Imagination. I like to remove myself  from the narrative. :)”

Of course, a Hamilton reference. Logan chuckled quietly and continued reading the notes aloud.

“Now that you’ve found the Thief’s tree, it shouldn’t be too hard to locate the other figments. Do you need assistance?”

“Please?”

“It’s crossed out?” Patton asked, pointing to the note. 

Logan nodded. “Yes, it is. Do you know why?” he directed the last part to the Artist and was met with a shrug. The strikeouts only continued, some in thick scribbles, but others in neat and crisp lines that left the words semi-legible beneath.

“Apparently not. These notes may be useless, butThen again, it’s not like Roman the Bard, the Thief, and the Child are good at hiding. The Damsel will be most difficult to find.”

“Good call with the guards. I miss you all already. I think I gave you a pen, in your coat? Or you could just speak. I’ll hear you.”

“Please, tell Patton to not worry too much. Virgil and Deceit have found the Thief and are enroute to his tree; they will be safe. I would actually recommend going there instead of staying with the Artist. He is difficult to handle, at best, and atrocious at worst.”

The Artist scoffed and pointed at the note. “Go write a chorus,” he hissed, turning to the sky and flipping it off. 

“Roman!” Patton scolded him, stopping his massaging and putting a hand over the Artist’s. While the Artist rolled his eyes, Logan continued. 

“And you’re going to the Artist’s house. I would recommend that you don’t speak ill of his paintings, they’re all he has to live for.”

“I know I said I didn’t want to come to the Imagination, but the Artist is speaking ill of you, and I’m going to go fight him. If you need anything, please let me know.”

“You know, you’re allowed to pass this book to any of the others, too, Logan. It’s not just for you. I know you’re obsessed in love with might eat fond of books, but I would prefer this book in the hands of someone who will interact with it.”

“That’s absurd. Who would he have had me pass this book onto?” Logan mumbled, rubbing his jaw.

The Artist shrugged. “He was probably getting emo. Sad you weren’t reading his dumb lil’ book, as though it’s not the most useless method of communication ever. What kinda video game tutorial.”

“It’s pretty stylish, though. I like it!” Patton said with a grin.

“What’s the point of even warning you about that if you’re not going to read this to notice.”

“I guess you’re never going to read this.”

Logan hummed quietly. It was getting more and more distressing.

“Why would you? Roman’s only a nuisance. And I’m part of him, aren’t I. Can’t hide that!”

“I promise I’m not just a nuisance. I’m better. I’m the better one. Right?”

“Roman’s better.”

“Oh, God, what if being a nuisance is so crucial to being Roman that all of us are nuisances. That would make sense, given how ridiculous this whole situation is. We’re such idiots. I’m such an idiot, why would I listen 

“I guess I’m not going to succeed at this contest! I’m not dumb enough to be Roman. Hah!”

“It’s almost a solace that no one’s ever going to read this.”

“Team Work makes the Dream Work. Cute. Tell Virgil that’s cute. I love him.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at the Artist. I’ll tell him myself soon, but I also wanted to tell you, because Patton and Logan heard. I want to be useful, somehow.”

“The most striking difference between Roman and I is” the following text was so scribbled out it was illegible. Everything was crossed out. Red lines were appearing on all of the text, actually. 

“He’s crossing it all out right now,” Patton mumbled into Logan’s hair.

He’d given up rubbing his shoulders and was now simply sitting atop the couch, legs cradling Logan’s shoulders. 

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of what you’ve written,” Logan said, seemingly to no one. Neither of them, at least.

The Artist looked up at him. 

“If you would like to speak honestly to us, then please do. I understand that trust must be earned, but how can we prove ourselves trustworthy without any chances to do so? You have been incredibly helpful. These notes would have been indicative of the path we should have taken, and it’s on us….it is my fault that we did not know,” Logan drummed his fingers against the book’s side, “We would like to talk with you more. And not just through a book.”

The lines stopped. The Artist sat up, watching the page, then looking up at Logan. His lip was quirked up slightly; he knew what he’d said.

A small arrow appeared on the bottom of the page, pointing to the edge of the book. Logan flipped the page.

At the top of the new blank page was more writing.

“Thanks for checking eventually.”

“It is my pleasure. My one concern with the book was that it would provide information we already knew,” Logan felt Patton squeeze his shoulders with his knees, “For example, the Dragon’s section is fairly nondescript. However, if you are uncomfortable with entering this level of the Imagination directly, then we can surely communicate via the book.”

More writing appeared, then was smudged. 

They could almost imagine the Playwright swearing at himself for smudging the ink.

“Okay. Thank you.”

Not taking more chances, hm. Logan hummed, patting the book. 

“Thank you for your ingenuity,” he responded.

Patton turned his attention to the Artist, while Logan comforted the Playwright by speaking to the air. It seemed that they didn’t need the pen, after all. The Artist was starring hard at the book, jaw set in an angry disgruntlement. 

“Hey, Artist?”

“Mh?” he looked up at Patton, pushing his glasses up tiredly.

There was still something Patton couldn’t really understand about the Playwright’s writings. He slid down beside the Artist and held open an arm, an offering for if the Artist wanted a hug. 

To which he shook his head with an apologetic frown. Not much of a hugger. Patton smiled, that was okay, and patted the Artist’s knee.

“What did he mean, about not being Roman?” he asked. “I thought all of you were Roman.”

The Artist frowned and, for a second, Patton was a little worried he didn’t understand what he was asking. But then the Artist seemed to have a lightbulb moment, eyes lighting with understanding, before he scowled again. 

“I don’t really….know, know. The whole point of all of this is that we WERE Roman,” the Artist rubbed the back of his neck, looking sidelong at the door, “I mean, the ways we’re connected to him differ. And the, uh, the levels of how much we exist as being in Thomas’ mind versus as Imagination creations is wild. I don’t know how real we are in terms of being real parts of Roman. It’s kinda hard to explain.”

“Sounds like it,” Patton nodded sympathetically, “Some of y’all don’t feel like Roman?”

The Artist shook his head. “I’d argue that none of us feel like Roman. Not really. We just all want to feel like Roman, so we say we do. One of us’ gotta be Roman enough, right?”

Alright, now he lost Patton. Before he could ask further, though, the door at the end of the hall banged open as the Bard jumped out, startling the other three. 

“Whoops!” he called and lunged into the room with one leg, “Sorry about that, darlings, but we need you in the room pronto.”

“Fine. Maybe they’ll understand what I’m trying to say,” Deceit turned around and slid into the room.

Of all things he expected to find, it was not the Bard and the Thief cuddling like a married couple, especially in light of their argument earlier. The Thief’s cloak and shirt were hanging on the nearby coat rack, chest wrapped in thick layers of bandages. They were leaned closer to each other, whispering about something, something about the ball that night. Deceit raised an eyebrow and coughed to get their attention. 

Both simply looked up at him, neither concerned about their positioning. Honestly, figures. 

“Heyyy,” the Bard sang, beckoning Deceit in with a hand, “Come sit!”

Deceit squinted at them and grabbed the chair across from the couch. He spun it around and sat backwards in it, legs straddling the backrest. Once he’d leaned over the backrest, one hand wrapped around it while the other held up his head, he spoke. “You called?” 

“Yeah,” the Thief shifted, patting the Bard’s side as he sat up, pulling no punches, “You kissed us?”

Ah. Welp. Deceit immediately shot the Bard a glare, opening his mouth to reprimand him, but the Thief interrupted. “No, no, he didn’t tell me. He just, uh, well,” they shared a worried look before the Thief turned back to Deceit, “He confirmed what I thought. We all felt it.”

Deceit recoiled, confused mostly. “You all what?”

“Felt your kiss,” the Thief’s cheeks turned red as he scooted himself up, the Bard stuffing pillows behind him and hissing unintelligibly at him, though he was too engrossed in the conversation to notice. “Me, Child, Dragon, we were all in a scuffle when we felt someone kiss our cheek. Couldn’t have been Logan or Virgil, might have been Patton but Bard said it was you.”

The Bard clenched his teeth in worry and made a so-so hand motion. “Guess I did tell him one teensy thing,” he said.

“How does….how did you feel it?” Deceit’s brows pinched as he took out his notepad again, looking down at what he’d written, “Is it something to do with the whole ‘we’re all Roman’ thing?”

“I don’t know.”

“I was trying to tell you, Ponyboy, it means we’re gonna be whole soon!” the Bard gently punched the Thief’s arm, then threw his arm around him and laughed.

Deceit raised an eyebrow at them, but his expression went unnoticed at first. He scribbled something down about how fast the Bard and Thief made up after their argument — perhaps they were compatible sides of each other?

No, no way, not after the arguing.

“Pony boy?” the Thief asked, frowning at the Bard.

Who winked at him and stuck his tongue out. “Stay gold,” he whispered.

The Thief groaned and shoved his shoulder, prompting the Bard to laugh. He wrapped his arms around the Thief’s waist gingerly, below his bandages. Had he any strength, the Thief would have pushed him off, but he opted for a tired eye roll and level glare.

Deceit clapped to get their attention, because no facial expressions were interrupting whatever was happening here. “Moving past that,” he made a ‘continue’ hand gesture, “Care to explain what ‘going to be whole’ means?”

The Bard rested his head on the Thief’s shoulder with a wide grin. His eyes would have sparkled if they — no wait, there, they were sparkling. “I’ve got a hunch that all that we need to bring us together is a little bit of love!”

“And I,” the Thief said, putting one hand on the Bard’s face and pushing him off slowly, “Think that’s one of the dumbest suggestions possible.”

The Bard scowled at him, nudging him with his hip. “Oh, you know what I’m talking about! It’s like true love’s kiss! True love’s kiss solves everything!”

True love’s kiss. A fairytale ending for a fairytale adventure?

Deceit hated it. 

“No.” True love? Get out of here with that. He had barely believed in love as a general concept before coming into the Imagination, he wasn’t ready to commit to TRUE love. 

Plus he’d already kissed one Roman on the cheek today and that was enough. He’d like to be kissing the real Roman next, but, well. Maybe he wasn’t ready for it? Either way, Deceit’s entire being was telling him to not.

He’d admitted QUITE a bit in the past, what. Hour? Two hours? And he wasn’t keen on anything else. It made his stomach churn.

The Thief was semi-on his side, as he shot the Bard a glare. “This isn’t a fairytale, Bard.”

“Oh, isn’t it, Flynn Rider?”

“Either way, that’s gonna take Deceit spilling the tea,” the Thief held up a finger at the Bard and turned to Deceit. “What happened?” 

Deceit raised his eyebrow. “Oh, you just want me to tell you?”

“Uh. Yeah,” the Thief waved his hands around,  “What else?”

Deceit crossed his arms. He didn’t want to disclose this fact; not of his own volition, at least, and not just yet. He’d been so upfront with Logan and Patton that he wasn’t sure how much more emotional validation he could withstand today without crying or something. “Why would I?”

“To prove him wrong,” the Thief jerked a thumb back at the Bard.

“To prove me right!” and the Bard preened, putting his hands beneath his chin and giving Deceit an award winning smile.

“No.”

Both Romans frowned. “No?” the Bard asked, “Wait, I was literally there, you DID!”

“Maybe you saw wrong?” oh, God, they were going to argue again.

“I didn’t see wrong! I—”

“Fine,” Deceit snapped, interrupting their squabbles, “Yes, I kissed the Artist on the cheek, but I don’t know anything about making you all whole. I don’t know what you want of me.”

The Thief and Bard had certainly shifted. Now the Bard was sitting on the top of the couch, legs crossed and back resting on the wall, while the Thief was laying across the couch still, legs kicked up and nudging the Bard’s knees.

They both froze, looking at Deceit through his confession. The Thief cleared his throat and propped himself up on his elbows, scooting back to lay on the armrest. “Deceit, buddy, I just wanna make sure this isn’t the answer. We want you to kiss us again.”

“If you wanted a kiss, you could have just said so,” he fixed his gloves, trying not to look at either of the Romans too directly. “Why go through all these lengths for something that means nothing?”

“Means….nothing?” the Bard’s voice was so small.

“Yes, it’s just a kiss,”

“A kiss means everything!” the Bard snapped. He jumped up, standing on the couch with one foot on the backrest and one on the armrest, towering above. “When you kissed us, we all felt it, and it felt...it felt like something. It felt like we were whole in the moment, but….”

“See, you can’t even describe the feeling,” the Thief scoffed, shaking his head disapprovingly, “Ridiculous.”

“If you’re just going to argue again, can I go?” Deceit asked, annoyance clear.

He’d thought these two Romans may be compatible, but it seemed that even they couldn’t agree on anything. At least they were still being civil. At least. Who knew how long that would last?

Both of them looked up at him and said “Wait,” with similar levels of desperation. Deceit put his hands up in mock-surrender, tired of their, of Roman’s, antics. It’d been a long day, could you really blame him?

“We,” the Thief started, eyes flicking to the Bard, who nodded for him to speak as he slid down to sit on the armrest, “We thought it’d be best to. Disclose. That Roman loves. All of you.”

His teeth grew more gritted as the confession came out. The Bard looked back at Deceit and nodded vigorously, clasping his hands to his chest and standing. He leaned down in front of Deceit, ignoring how Deceit leaned back, and met his eye-level. “Roman loves all four of you. I love all four of you, so, so much that it hurts,” he whispered. 

Deceit watched his eyes, watched them glimmer with unseen red and gold, and steeled his expression. That wasn’t necessarily as big of a surprise as it was a confession. It was like a breath of fresh air, the truth. He didn’t always get to see it so blatantly. 

Truth to Deceit was like high percentage alcohol. It was incredibly bad in large quantities, and was an acquired taste, but he could partake. And sometimes it was nice. But today had held a lot of hard truths and a lot of bare feelings, and he wasn’t sure how much he could take of this rampant exposure.

It was all given honesty, though, and given trust. He couldn’t fight that. Not when Roman was so disassembled, and not when it was about something he’d never dared to dream of.

“I am….glad,” Deceit stated, trying to figure out how to word it right.

The Thief frowned, and the Bard leaned back, a blank expression overtaking his face. Perhaps those weren’t the right words. They exchanged a look and the Bard shuffled slowly toward the door. 

“Bard thought we should tell you, just in case. That just means Dragon loves you all, too. He won’t hurt Virgil,” the Thief said.

Deceit frowned. Hang on. 

Hang on, there, because that contradicted what he’d said earlier.

“You said that Dragon wanted to dismember us,” he asked.

The Thief nodded. “I don’t know now. He, uh. He was pretty adamant about just hurting me and Child, so it’s a hunch on my part.”

“I don’t think he will,” the Bard’s voice had softened.

Deceit glanced at him, catching a tired smile. He waved back at Deceit, then gestured with his thumb to the door. “I’m going to get the others. We should plan for the ball tonight, right? Planning? That’s a thing?”

“It is,” Deceit said, pursing his lips.

He couldn’t help but feel that he’d said something wrong, as the Bard dashed out of the room.

“This whole separation thing’s been hard,” Deceit looked back at the Thief, who was tracing shapes with his finger against his leg.

“I can imagine. It’s confusing for us, it must only get easier,” he hummed, then leaned over on his knee, “You’re trusting Bard now?”

The Thief gave him a small glare, noncommittal enough that he gave up after a seconds and looked away. “I’m….not Roman. Not fully. So I don’t have all the answers. Bard’s got some.”

Not Roman. 

Of course. They shouldn’t have been putting their trust in any one or two singular Romans. Each of the Romans was just as Roman as the next. 

Okay, he should stop thinking Roman’s name, because it was starting to sound less like a word. That fell in line, though, with his prior conclusion about the Imagination. Things were falling apart without any control in here, things that Creativity should be able to control, things that wouldn’t typically hurt the other Sides. 

Deceit frowned, and wrote down another question. Curses; that oversight was on him. He’d tend to it at another time, though. For now…. “Thief?”

“Mh?” the Thief looked up, eyes half lidded with boredom.

Deceit’s lip quirked up in just the tiniest of smiles. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

The Thief’s eyes widened at first, but then he fell back into a comforting smile. “Thanks, Riddler. Let’s get this show on the road.”

[super-fabulous-killjoy]

Tagged by the lovely @bundleofunicorns

rules: answer these 85 questions and tag 20 people (eh thats a lot we’ll try)

— What was your last…

1. Drink: apple cider

2. Phone call: Baba

3. Text message: Guy who sends me pictures of his dog when im sad (i love that man and that dog)

4. Song you listened to: Woke the Fuck Up - Jon Bellion

5. Time you cried: earlier today when my extended family drove me to panic

6. Dated someone twice: never

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: havent kissed anyone

8. Been cheated on: never

9. Lost someone special: when my homeboy moved to hawaii and didnt even invite me

10. Been depressed: never

11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: never

— Fave colours

12. Black

13. Blue

14. Gold

— in the last year have you…

15. Made new friends: yes

16. Fallen out of love: maybe? Define love also does platonic love count

17. Laughed until you cried: yes

18. Found out someone was talking about you: yes but not in a bad way

19. Met someone who changed you: i already knew them but my friends did change me this year

20. Found out who your friends are: Mainly just reminded of how much i love my real friends and how much i hate the asshat who wasnt

21. Kissed someone on your facebook friends list: nope

— General

22. How many of your facebook friends do you know irl: idk i got a facebook when i was really little to play farmville and the like i dont use it any more

23. Do you have any pets: 4 rabbits

24. Do you want to change your name: bot particularly

25. What did you do for your last birthday: party bus it was LIT

26. What time did you wake up today: like 9

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: scrolling through tumblr

28. What is something you can’t wait for: The Masquerade, Mashby is gonna FLIP HER SHIT

30. What are you listening to right now: My “songs i think love sounds like” playlist

31. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: ive talked to a Thomas, but idk about a tom

32. Something that’s getting on your nerves: anxiety

33. Most visited website: spotify

34. Hair colour: blonde

35. Long or short hair: shortish

36. Do you have a crush on someone: who knows, not me

37. What do you like about yourself: im reaally good on emergencies

38. Want any piercings: not really

39. Blood type: no idea, a i think?

40. Nicknames: bro or hey you

41. Relationship status: single

42. Sign: libra

43. Pronouns: she/her

44. Fave tv show: at this very moment, deception or b99

45. Tattoos: i wish, i want a red feather behind my ear

46. Right or left handed: right

47. Ever had surgery: wisdom teeth

48. Piercings: none

49. Sport: XC/ track

50. Vacation: yes?

51. Trainers: i wear the same pair for everything

— More General

52. Eating: doritos

53. Drinking: nothing

54. Im about to watch: the new episode of deception, if my dad finished black mirror

55. Waiting for: my anxiety to die down

56. Want: to sleep for 4 days

57. Get married: maybe, if i find someone i like enough

58. Career: CFO of a music company, but also probably a chemist

— Which is better

59. Hugs or kisses: hugs

60: lips or eyes: eyes

61. Taller or shorter: taller, tall people give the best hugs

62. Older or younger: same age

63. Nice arms or stomach: dont care

64. Hookups or relationships: relationships

65. Troublemaker or hesitant: whatever the mood is

— Have you ever

66. Kissed a stranger: nope

67. Drank hard liquor: once on accident and never again

68. Turned someone down: haven’t been asked out

69. Sex on first date: *asexual laughter*

70. Broken someone’s heart: gee i hope not

71. Had your heart broken: do terrible book to movie adaptations count?

72. Been arrested: nope

73. Cried when someone died: yes

74. Fallen for a friend: so often its a problem

— Do you believe in

75. Yourself: not really? Not at this present moment

76. Miracles: yeah

77. Love at first sight: nope

78. Santa Claus: i believe in the concept of him, if that makes sense

79. Angels: yes

— Misc

80. Eye color: blue

81. Best friend’s name: they definitely have one

82. Favorite movie: ummmmmmmmmm memento or the prestige

83. Favorite actor: rn its tom holland

84. Favorite cartoon: miraculous ladybug probably

85. Favorite teacher’s name: Miss T, or Mrs. Walle, or Mashby

WHEW well that was long but fun. Lets tag @sapphic-asteroid @saltbaekei @ivegotthislove @papillonemheliosa @pancake13error @typicalyaoifangirl @kierenrose @kaidad @ylove-bandaesthetics @d3kv @dreamlurkerdreameater @hardrock-mysticrage @just-a-shy-and-depressed-lesbian @justatracersexual @legimus-ergo-sumus @cuddlycryptid @vintageunicornblood @bandobsessed510 and yeah thats all i got. Fun times. You dont have to if you dont want to, obviously, but it was fun! Anyway, have a great day yall

[trisabelle]

Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 92 truths about you. At the end choose 25 an arbitrary number of people to be tagged. I was tagged by the amazing @canitellusmthin !! I love ya, you diamond in the rough (tumblr. tumblr is the rough)

LAST:

Last Drink: Water!

Last Phone Call: My Dad calling to ask if we needed any groceries.

Last Text Message: To my sister asking if she remembered the wifi password. Unless you count IM's in general, in which case, saying goodnight to my bf and gf!!

Last Song You Listened To: Memory by Koethe Koethe, while I was dressing this morning. Well, afternoon..

Last Time I Cried: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I am a babby but I rarely cry and tend to try to forget about t if I do.

HAVE YOU EVER:

Dated Someone Twice: Nope

Been Cheated On: No

Kissed Someone and Regretted It: Only ever kissed one person, didn't regret it even if we didn't work out together.

Lost Someone Special: For a while a friend dropped off the internet for about a month after being really suicidal.. thought she died but she came back. That was years ago though

Been Depressed: I'm depress in this binch 25/7 my dudes

Been Drunk and Thrown Up: Never been drunk, never drank alcohol ever and don't want to

IN THE PAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

Made a New Friend: Ye!

Fallen Out of Love: No

Laughed Until You Cried: YUP. Memes do that to me. Also, that video of two hamsters with a hamster wheel on its side, and they keep spinning it until it whips them around and they just keep going until they're at lightspeed

Met Someone Who Changed You: The people that come to mind; Jay, Liz, and the two who I plan to spend my life with, Matt and Lizzy!!!!! 💖💖💖

Found Out Someone Was Talking About You: This.. is very vague.. yes..????

GENERAL:

How many people on tumblr do you know in real life?: A few I've met in real life when I went to visit a girlfriend at the time down in California.

Do you have any pets?: A Doge (Steve), a Doogler (Molly), and a recently adopted fishy!! His name is Gillbert.

Do you want to change your name?: Nop!! I'm super happy with my name. Mostly because Tris isn't really gender specific and I like that

What time did you wake up this morning?: "Morning" hahahhahhahahahahahhahahah

What were you doing last night?: Just reading once I was in bed. Before that I was getting FO4 modded and talking to the bae's

Name something you cannot wait for: LIFE IS STRANGE: BEFORE THE STORM - EPISODE 3 HELL IS EMPTY

Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: My great-granddad. He died a while back but I remember him. He built a bunch of stuff for my Thomas the tank engine sets. Also my middle name was after him

What’s getting on your nerves rn?: i,m tired

Blood type: ye

Nickname: Tris

Relationship status: In a closed triangle!! I know my trigonometry from an intimate perspective c;

Zodiac sign: Sagittarius. Did I spell it right

Pronouns: He/him, but idfc honestly. I have a feeling they're he/him just because I'm so used to it, even tho I totally identify as a boy

Favorite tv show: Sense8. The beautiful masterpiece collision between scifi, drama, and an expression of just what humanity is

College: Not yet!! Should he doing some college courses starting January

Hair colour: Black!! Or rly rly rly dark brown. Used to be chestnut brown but maybe I'm just crazy

Long or short: Hair? Or height? I have longish hair for a boy, it's not far past my shoulders and hella curly. Once I get the courage it'll be in a lil ponytail. And height, I'm 5"6' or however you write it. Five foot six. I wanna be smol™

Do you have a crush on someone: Ye. On my Big Frog and Giant Frog

What do you like about yourself: (awkward laugh) haha yeah totally

FIRSTS:

First surgery: Colonoscopy. Sorry if tmi, but it's true. I've had a few

First piercing: NOPE

First best friend: Jonas. We stopped talking soon after starting high school but he was in a car crash recently and almost died, and we've started talking a bit again

First sport you joined: Soccer. Never sported again

First vacation: Not sure.. earliest I remember is a trip not too far away to a vacation house with the extended family.

First pair of sneakers: Idfk.. I never cared about shoes. Just let them be plain and comfy

Eating: Right now? Nothing

Drinking: I was drinking water a minute ago

I’m about to: sleeeeeeeeeeep

Listening to: The menu theme from Before the Storm

Want kids: Ye!!! I've never seen myself doing anything other than adopting tho, even though I'm not dedicated to that idea.

Get married: YE. The idea of being proposed to???????? (Hand slamming button meme)

Career: Um

WHICH IS BETTER:

Lips or eyes: Eyes. I love them lips but EYESSSS

Hugs or kisses: BITCH DONT DO THIS TO ME. I CAN HAVE BOTH!!!!!!

Shorter or taller: I wanna be the short one!!!!!! PLEASEEEEE

Older or younger: I don't care! (Lowkey lying)

Romantic or spontaneous: Why.. why not both.. These don't conflict..

Sensitive or loud: Sensitive I guess?

Hook up or relationship: BINCH I WANT DEM FEELS NOT JUST FUCKS

Troublemaker or hesitant: What.

HAVE YOU EVER:

Kissed a stranger: Nope. Only kissed 1 person ever

Drank hard liquor: Never even drank once

Lost glasses/contacts: don't have either

Sex on first date: Only really had like two dates, and she was no sex before marriage (which I totally respect and honestly I wasn't ready anyways)

Broken someone’s heart: Quite possibly.. I seem to cause a lot of negative emotions for the people around me..

Been arrested: Lol. I'm a goodie two shoes, a law abiding citizen,

Turned someone down: Ye. We're still in contact, I'm hoping they're doing well and I didn't let them down.. they deserve happiness!

Fallen for a friend: Nope

DO YOU BELIEVE:

In yourself: No I'm a myth

Love at first sight: While I believe in attraction at first sight, and that may lead to true love, there's no way to instantly know for sure they're your soulmate. But don't ignore that instinct, our hearts are smarter than us in these things.

Heaven: No. I've never believed in anything required blind faith, but honestly, I have so much respect for those that do. That's a lot of strength to believe despite the struggle

Santa Claus: I certainly believe some nut changed their legal name to Santa for shits and giggles.

Yay!!! All done and it only took me ~40 mins when I should be ASLEEP. I'm egg. But it's my birthday, I can do what I want!! Happy 20th to me c:

I tag a reasonable amount of people, not 25: @wastedhearts @raggedymancomegetme @richard-vs-marty @the-pretty-kitten @sheikahstone @dipper-the-destructor @feathersandstripes @gayerthanthefourthofjuly @crabbieapple @brokenheartsbleedtheblues @notyouraveragebl0g @moonlit-battlefield @starrchild @runekitten @mbesham @cocoa-n-donuts

Don't do this if you don't want to!! And if you do but weren't tagged feel free!!! c: