#that was supposed to be christmas/new year art but i got lazy with clothes and everything

[pupovkitty]

what? he needs to reach his quota of enrichment for the day somehow (the cost would be kdj's leg)

[artificialqueens]

Me and You Together, 3/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: again, fucking bowled over by the love and support this has had so far. i cannot thank any of u enough, ur all absolute wee diamonds in the sky. hope u enjoy this one- we’re in January for this one, where the girls have to deal with the consequences of December…and Tayce is tasked with keeping a secret for Lawrence.

last chapter: September- On a damp, bright Saturday in September, six flatmates move into their student flat and meet for the first time.

this chapter: January- Tayce and A’whora still have unfinished business from a night out and a hungover morning in December. But it’s only awkward if they make it awkward…right?

***

Tayce is pretty sure she’s going to combust if something doesn’t happen soon.

It’s been a month and a week since A’whora kissed her, and twenty-four hours shorter than that since Tayce kissed her in return. Or thereabouts, it’s not like she’s counting. It’s not like it’s been consuming her every thought every waking moment of the day or anything.

In all fairness, Tayce seems like it’s an achievement to think about a kiss for that length of time. Especially through her first semester essay deadlines, Ellie’s raucous eighteenth, her first Christmas back home, her first New Year seeing all her old school friends after uni and updating Cheryl and Cara on everything. She’d drunkenly come out to Cheryl too after being gently encouraged and supported by Cara, and they’d both cried as Cheryl held her and confessed that since uni had started she’d also begun seeing a girl she really liked too.

It’s funny how at uni everybody seems so much more free. Away from a stifling hometown, Tayce and her friends can properly spread their wings and be who they’ve always been but have either not realised it or been afraid to show it. Tayce is the happiest she’s ever been when she’s at the flat with the others in her little bubble of a home away from home, with Bimini’s intelligent insights and Tia’s funny quips, Lawrence’s chaos and Ellie’s kindness and A’whora being…well, her best friend.

Except she’s not really sure that best friends kiss each other like that.

But maybe they do, because since they’ve all come back from home after Christmas A’whora hasn’t mentioned the kisses, as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened between them. Hasn’t even joked about it with her or in front of the others (which is fair enough, as if Lawrence knew she’d probably tease them about it until they graduated). Tayce is pretty sure that none of the others even know, or at least if they do they’ve not spoken about it.

And the worst part is that A’whora has been absolutely…normal. Fine.

See, Tayce could’ve dealt with any awkwardness- she’d be upfront, bluntly ask A’whora if she wants to forget about it or what she wants the plan for them to be. Even better would’ve been if A’whora had rugby-tackled her the moment she’d got back from Wales and smothered her with kisses, told her how much she’d been thinking about her while they’d both been away. Tayce supposes it’s kind of her fault they never properly talked about it since she’d practically bolted out of A’whora’s room when she’d kissed her that morning, but she’d been nervous in case she’d made everything too weird. A’whora hadn’t seemed to be complaining at the time, though.

In fact that night, A’whora had been up for plenty more than just a drunk kiss. If Tayce thinks about everything she’d said when they were walking home her face still gets hot and she has to squeeze her thighs together. She’s definitely glad they never crossed any of those particular lines when they’d both been drinking, but sometimes when she’s lying in bed at night Tayce lets her hands drift between her legs as she thinks about A’whora telling her how much and for how long she’d wanted her.

Best friends definitely don’t do that.

So Tayce feels guilty spending time with just A’whora these days, the fact that things haven’t been awkward between them somehow being worse than if they were. She’s not been avoiding her per sé, she’s just been finding ways to make sure it’s very rarely the two of them alone together: hanging out in the kitchen with everyone instead of in her room, going to bed when the others do instead of staying up with A’whora, inviting the others to anything A’whora suggests the two of them do together. It’s silly, and Tayce does miss spending time alone with her, but A’whora acting like nothing’s happened while conversely Tayce wants everything to happen hurts her embarrassingly more than she’d care to admit.

Such a time is a lazy Sunday afternoon halfway through the shittiest month of the year, when the weather outside is full of misty rain that’s a recipe for frizzy hair, puddles, and misery. Just to add to the rubbish day Tayce is holed up in her room, watching the grey clouds drift and overlap over each other to create a paint colour chart in the sky as she begins an essay that’s due in a mere five days. It’s been hard to focus on anything when her head is full of her best friend and imaginary scenarios but the prospect of an all-nighter isn’t one that’s particularly desirable either, so she and the ninety-five words she’s written so far are engaged in a stand-off as Tayce waits for the essay to write itself and the word document waits for her brain cells to conjure up any more opinions on “Is art a conveyor of emotion?” (4000 words).  

And then there’s a knock on the door that doesn’t wait for permission to enter and A’whora bounces in. She’s in a pair of grey joggers and a baggy navy pyjama top that she’s tucked in at the waist and rolled up the sleeves of, and her hair is up in a bun that’s had approximately 5% effort put into it apart from the little diamante hair clasp she’s slid through it at the top.

In spite of herself, Tayce can’t help but snort when she sees her. “Only you could make your shitty potato loungewear fashion.”

“Shut up! This is haute couture. This is actually my final project for the semester,” A’whora jokes in return, moves to sit at the foot of her bed and pout at her. “Tayyyce. I’m boreddd.”

Tayce raises an eyebrow at A’whora’s whining from over her laptop screen. “And I’m doing this essay. Find someone else to bug.”

“Don’t be such a hound,” A’whora frowns, falling sideways and landing onto the bed so she’s hugging Tayce’s legs through the duvet, her head resting on her shins. “I’d annoy Ellie but she’s in town with one of her friends from home. C’mon, let’s do a movie day. We’ve not had one in ages. I feel like we’ve barely had any time together since you got back.”

“Just been trying to catch up on all my coursework. It’s not personal,” she lies, her heart sinking only the tiniest bit at the realisation that her attempts at staying out of A’whora’s way have obviously been louder than they’ve been subtle.

“Please?” A’whora bats her lashes, and if it was impossible to say no to her before it’s surely illegal to do so now.

Tayce sighs and closes her laptop, eliciting a smile from the other girl. “Fine. Fine! But you better ask the others, I don’t want them feeling left out.”

It’s a good spur-of-the-moment excuse to make sure Tayce doesn’t have to spend two hours cuddled up next to A’whora while her heart hurts, but she’s confused by the way a small look of something passes over A’whora’s expression. She can’t put her finger on what it is, but A’whora’s agreeing and bounding down to the living room before Tayce can figure it out.

Tayce throws on her dressing gown over her clothes before leaving her room to join her, the blue fluffy one with the narwhal hood that’s complete with a horn on the top. She doesn’t own many embarrassing items of clothing, but this is definitely one of them. It doesn’t matter too much, though. A’whora’s seen her in it before, when she’s been hungover or sad or hangry and on her period.

It’s so funny how she can only have known her five months and still feel closer to her than half of the friends she spent six years with at high school.

In the kitchen, A’whora’s already cheerfully getting organised as Bimini and Lawrence lounge on the sofa lazily. Tia’s not in either- it emerges she’s gone round to Veronica’s, which nobody’s surprised about.

“Main question is, what’re we watching?” Bimini asks. “It’s a lazy Sunday so it can’t be anything that’s too good. I want something I can rip the piss out of while I watch it, y’know?”

There’s some squabbling about film choices as A’whora makes popcorn in the microwave, burns it, then subsequently has to make another packet. It’s eventually decided that they’re going to watch Love Actually despite the fact it’s January, because they all either hate it or like it because of how bad it is and the film will simply be a vehicle for them to yell jokes over.

“Have we got anything to drink? We could make this into like…a day drinking situation,” Lawrence suggests casually.

“You’re not helping the stereotype that all Scottish people are alcoholics at all,” A’whora quips, causing Tayce to let out a too-loud laugh.

“Listen, if you’ve not figured out that I’m a walking talking stereotype by now, A’whora, are we even friends?” Lawrence shoots back, and A’whora shrugs in an unspoken fair enough.

Tayce tilts her head then remembers something. “I actually still have loads of canned cocktails in my suitcase that my Mum got me for Christmas. Haven’t unpacked them yet. Think there’s about…twelve?”

“Ooh, three each? That’s alright!” Bimini smiles, clearly buoyed by the prospect of being slightly tipsy in the middle of the afternoon.

“Right, that’s settled then. I’ll go get them,” Tayce decides. A’whora’s crossing the kitchen before she knows it.

“I’ll help you with them.”

Before Tayce can speak, Bimini gives a snort. “ ‘Ow much do you think canned cocktails weigh, exactly?”

As Lawrence bursts into peals of laughter, Tayce watches as A’whora rolls her eyes at them, then turns on her heel to follow her to her room. Tayce can’t help but be a little wary, though. It does kind of seem like A’whora’s trying to get her on her own, which Tayce wouldn’t mind if she knew where she was coming from. But she doesn’t.

Tayce kneels down onto the floor as she rolls her suitcase out from under the bed, chatting mindlessly as she does so because if she’s talking it means A’whora doesn’t have a chance to bring up whatever she clearly wants to bring up. “I think there’s actually eleven here, you know. Because, uh…I think I drank one of them while I was at home, so we’re gonna need to fight over who gets one less. I don’t fancy my chances in a fight against Lawrence, she’d probably give me…what’s that expression? A Glasgow kiss? She’d give me one of those. Although Bimini, what do you think they’d be like in a fight? You know I think they’ve secretly got a set of knuckledusters, they seem the type. Although when I think about it-”

“Tayce,” A’whora cuts in, forcing her to snap her head up. Her expression is troubled, and a little frown dips on her forehead as she looks at her. “What’s wrong? Why are you being so…I don’t know, weird? Like you want to get rid of me?”

Tayce feels ashamed for being called out on her behaviour, and she can feel her stomach drop as she looks back at the cans in her otherwise empty suitcase. She wants to tell her there’s a reason for the way she’s been acting but A’whora beats her to the punch, murmuring with her head down and not meeting Tayce’s eyes.

“Is this because we kissed?”

“A’whora…” Tayce immediately groans in exasperation, the heat rushing to her cheeks as if she’s been slapped. She’s embarrassed, because she knows she’s got the capacity to talk about this like a grown-up but there’s a part of her that’s cringing, because if A’whora’s about to tell her she regrets it then she’s not sure she’ll ever live it down.

There’s a small silence where neither of them seem to move, let alone speak. A’whora is yet again the one to break it. “I just feel like you hate me all of a sudden.”

Fuck. If there was one thing Tayce had wanted to avoid, it’s this. Even though she herself is hurting she can’t bear the thought of having hurt A’whora’s feelings too, so she frowns, reaches up and squeezes A’whora’s hand which prompts her to look at Tayce. “I don’t hate you, Rory, of course I don’t hate you. I just…”

Tayce looks up to the ceiling as she searches for the right words, even though she’s not really sure what they are. She wants to tell A’whora she’s yearning for something to happen again between them and that even the fact she’s holding her hand is setting her pulse off all too quickly, but now’s not the right time. Besides, she doesn’t even know if A’whora feels the same way. Either way, Tayce can hear A’whora holding her breath, can feel the way her body’s tense beside her, so Tayce finally formulates something that doesn’t sound too hot or too cold.

“…I just don’t know where we go from here, that’s all.”

A’whora visibly relaxes, then shrugs. Her voice is quiet as she speaks. “Well, it’s only awkward if we make it awkward. And I feel like I’ve been okay at not making it awkward?”

Tayce narrows her eyes at her, laughs. “So what you’re saying is it’s all my fault.”

“Yes.”

The pair of the giggle softly and things already seem to have shifted back into comfortable territory. The green of a spring bulb popping up through the snow.

Tayce swallows her not-inconsiderable pride and smiles up at A’whora. She supposes going back to being friends and not ever talking about the fact that they kissed again is better than existing in a tense purgatory for the rest of their time in the flat together, even if it does make her feel a little sinking feeling of disappointment and a sense of mourning what could’ve been. “I’m sorry for being such a…mingebag.”

A’whora cracks up, repeats “mingebag!” incredulously, before her laughter dies down and she gives Tayce’s hand a squeeze in return. “That’s okay. Just good to know you still like me.”

They share a soft smile before piling the cocktails high in their arms, cradling them as if they’re babies as they rush back through to the living room where Bimini and Lawrence are hanging up a huge white sheet on the wall opposite the sofa for the projector. The projector had been Tia’s addition to the flat, an AliExpress purchase that had turned out to not be broken, or unusable, or made for a doll’s house.

“Tia won’t mind us borrowing that, will she?” A’whora asks with concern. Lawrence scoffs, bats a hand in her direction dismissively.

“She’ll be too mouth-deep in Veronica to care when she realises we’ve used it, let’s not lie!”

There’s a cry of disgust at Lawrence’s turn of phrase from the others, and as Tayce sets up the cocktails on the little coffee table A’whora brings the bowl of popcorn through.

“It’s fun to be able to make jokes about Tia and her girl, in’t it?” Bimini chuckles good-naturedly. “Always feel like we can’t properly tease her when Ellie’s there ‘cause she always looks like she’s about to jump out the window any time we mention Veronica’s name.”

The revelation that Ellie has feelings for Tia had come via a drunken, tearful confession to the others the night of her eighteenth birthday, when Tia had left the party with Veronica instead of staying overnight at the flat. Poor Ellie had been so devastatingly upset that the others had seemed to forge an unspoken agreement that the situation wasn’t going to be fodder for flat jokes. Instead they make sure to ask Tia how her budding relationship is going when Ellie isn’t around.

As she and A’whora laugh in agreement at Bimini’s joke, Tayce doesn’t miss the way Lawrence grows uncharacteristically quiet.

“When d’you think Ellie will get over Tia? I mean it’s a shame she doesn’t like her back, but she’ll ‘ave to at some point.”

“She won’t. She’ll just pine after her every day until we graduate,” Lawrence says. It’s meant to be a joke but her delivery is somewhat flat, and Tayce wonders if she’s the only one that picks up on it. From the way A’whora and Bimini are laughing, it appears she has been.  

Bimini and Lawrence step back from the sheet, satisfied with the job they’ve done. A’whora’s busy plugging in the fairy lights Ellie strung up where the wall meets the ceiling a few months ago, and Tayce can’t help but think to herself that sacking off her essay was a good idea as she glances at their setup. Never let it be said that their flat does things by halves.

“Oh! We should bring duvets through. And blankets,” A’whora suggests, and Tayce’s heart is both warmed and hurt by how adorably enthusiastic she is about the whole endeavour. She wishes she could shake the lingering feeling of disappointment she’s got in her gut at the knowledge that they’ll probably never talk about their kiss again; they’ve moved on from it, it was a one-time thing, and it’s only awkward if they make it awkward so Tayce bringing it up would be awkward, right?

So she settles on the sofa with Lawrence while Bimini helps A’whora gather up all their pillows, cushions, blankets and duvets from their respective rooms. Tayce is about to become lost in her own head when Lawrence turns to her with a look in her eyes that Tayce has never seen before. It’s almost conspiratorial and definitely suspicious, and for one horrific moment Tayce is convinced that Lawrence knows everything that happened in December.

“What is it?” Tayce asks her, before her flatmate can even open her mouth. Lawrence sighs, tips her head back to the head of the sofa and squeezes her eyes shut.

“I need to tell you a secret.”

Tayce’s heart drops as if she’s on a rollercoaster. Her mind immediately jumps to A’whora. What’s she told her? What does Lawrence know? It would make sense to wait until A’whora was out of the room before telling her anything. Tayce tries to keep her face impassive as she turns to Lawrence, nods quietly. “Okay, spill.”

“You can’t tell anyone, Tayce,” Lawrence insists, looking at her pleadingly. Tayce promises she won’t, although in retrospect she probably should’ve asked what it was first. The way Lawrence is acting is intriguing, though. It makes Tayce think it’s something about herself if it’s something she doesn’t want the others to know so badly.

“Christ, this is so cringe,” Lawrence groans, dropping her head forward and resting it in her hands. Tayce can still see the pink flush that’s started to dust her face, and by now she’s convinced that this has nothing to do with A’whora and everything to do with Lawrence herself.

Lawrence mutters out something incoherent into her hands. Tayce frowns, humoured. “What?”

A huge huff comes from the girl on the sofa beside her, and as she removes her hands from the front of her face she sticks them to the side of it like blinkers on a horse. It’s the quietest Tayce has ever heard Lawrence speak as she says the secret again. “I’ve got a crush on Ellie.”

Tayce’s face lights up at her friend’s confession. “Do you actually?”

“Christ, don’t make me say it twice. I’ll get struck down.”

Tayce leans into Lawrence, uses both her hands to lightly poke her in the arm. “Look at you! Being cute and having feelings!”

“It’s not, though! It’s not cute at all! It’s just sad!” Lawrence rolls her eyes, shaking her head at the same time. “Because she doesn’t…she’ll never see me like that, and she’s too busy making cow-eyes at Tia all the time anyway, so. It’s pointless, I don’t even know why I’m even hoping for something to happen.”

“Hey, listen! How long do you think Ellie’s gonna be able to keep moaning about Tia when she’s still seeing Veronica? I mean there’s only one way that relationship is going, the only ‘end’ there is in ‘girlfriend’. So Ellie’s gonna have to get over it eventually!” Tayce says supportively, shaking Lawrence’s arm to gee her up. Lawrence bats her away, though, giving another sigh.

“Tayce, it’s not exactly like she’s gonnae suddenly realise that I’ve been here all along! Like some fuckin’ chick flick. I’ve fancied her for years,” Lawrence explains. The information knocks Tayce for six, but when she thinks about it it makes sense- the way Lawrence gently bullies her so much, the way she gravitates towards her all the time, the way she gets quiet if Ellie starts moping about Tia. Tayce had never thought about it in that light before.

Lawrence hugs her knees to her chest as she continues. “Realised I liked her the last time we were at the caravan. And obviously we were at opposite sides of the country but like…I’d still meet up with her in Summer, get the train to Dundee and have sleepovers and all that shite. And when she came into the kitchen on that first day I was so happy she was gonnae be living with us, and I am still happy, because obviously she’s my friend? But like…it’s just shite to know that she’ll never like me back.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Ellie’s type is obviously tall, dark and skinny. Which…” Lawrence gestures at herself with a deprecative laugh. “…how can I be any of that?”

“Right, for a start! Stop thinking about what you’re not and start thinking about what you are,” Tayce says firmly, gripping her hand tightly.

Lawrence rolls her eyes and fixes her with a pointed stare. “Oh, like what? I’m beautiful on the inside! I know I’m the fat funny friend, Tayce, you can spare me the bullshit.”

“Well…you’re fat, and so fucking what of it? Doesn’t mean you aren’t drop-dead-fuckin’ gorgeous. Being fat and being beautiful aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Very easy for you to say, sat there wearing size eights. Tell that to literally any piece of media we consume. Or any of my brain cells. Even if there are only about ten of them,” Lawrence sighs, then pauses. “I do like the way I look, and I don’t want to change anything about myself. It’s just…several things make that very hard almost all of the time, and it’s tiring to feel like you’re constantly fighting a losing battle. And it’s not like I’m pinning all my self-worth on a girl liking me back, but just…it would be nice to be the one that someone has a crush on for a change, if that makes sense?”

Before Tayce can say anything to affirm how Lawrence is feeling, a movement from down the hall makes her flinch and point at Tayce accusingly. “Not a fucking word, right? Least of all to A’whora, if she knows then I might as well just tell Ellie myself and like fuck is that happening.”

Tayce nods rapidly in a promise as A’whora and Bimini emerge from the hall comedically draped in materials, like a child’s attempt at a dress made out of knitting and featherdown quilts. They all set about arranging everything to make their setup as comfy as possible, and as the film gets loaded up they get comfortable in their respective positions. Lawrence is at one end of the sofa, with Tayce in the middle and A’whora at her side, while Bimini sits on the floor with their back to the sofa because they’re quite happy sitting there with enough cushions and pillows. The big lights are turned off, the film begins, and the room is filled with the soft glow of the fairy lights and the hazy light from the movie and all Tayce can think about is A’whora, warm and soft and squashed up beside her sharing the blanket.  

Tayce feels silly for being so disappointed. This was what she’d wanted- they’d talked about it. They’d addressed the fact that the kiss had happened, and now they were just…moving forward. Not making things awkward. Because obviously to A’whora, the fact it’s happened has made things awkward.

And that shouldn’t hurt Tayce as much as it does.

It’s hard to dwell on things for long, though, when she has block four flat ten’s very own Ant and Dec in her living room. Lawrence and Bimini keep her and A’whora giggling pretty much from the film’s first scene, and they all fall about screech-laughing when Bimini forces them to pause it on a shot of Liam Neeson’s hall in which there’s a horrific blob of a child’s painting on the wall that looks so cursed they just had to point it out.

It’s probably because Lawrence and Bimini are distracting her that Tayce doesn’t initially notice A’whora leaning into her at first until she’s pressed up against Tayce’s side. This isn’t anything out of the ordinary. They’ve always sat close before, but this time things feel different. This time it feels as if there’s little sparks of electricity between them, metaphorical manifestations of the anticipation Tayce feels of something she’s yearning to happen.    

So when A’whora bumps her knuckles against Tayce’s, brings her hand over hers and laces their fingers together, Tayce feels as if she’s suddenly evolved into some ridiculous cartoon character; she can practically feel her eyes bulge out of their sockets in shock and she has to stop her jaw from dropping onto the floor. If her heart could comedically fly out of its chest it would. Tayce keeps her gaze steady and focused on the film, blocking out her peripheral vision and not even turning to see if A’whora’s looking at her too. Because if she is it would make everything ten times worse (better?) than it currently is, and Tayce’s head is already in a spin. They’ve held hands before. It’s not like this is different.

But it is. Before they hadn’t kissed. Before A’whora hadn’t told Tayce she wanted to sleep with her. Before all of Tayce’s feelings for her friend were cooped up into neat little boxes in her mind that were so full they were close to bursting, but now they have and now it’s After and so holding A’whora’s hand has gone from usual to extraordinary, routine to electric.  

Tayce hopes A’whora can’t feel the way her pulse is racing because that’ll definitely let her know something is up.

She’s suddenly startled out of her overthinking by a tut of disapproval from Lawrence. “How many fuckin’ couples are in this film and there’s not one single lesbian?”  

“Lesbians didn’t exist in 2003, remember?” Bimini deadpans, causing A’whora to giggle.

“Yeah, lesbians were invented in 2013 when Orange is the New Black aired.”

“Nah! When did Sugar Rush come out? Mind that programme on Channel 4? I remember watching that through a crack in the living room door when my parents thought I’d gone to bed,” Lawrence recounds excitedly, her enthusiasm at remembering her lesbian awakening making Tayce laugh and relate at the same time.

“For me it was Sophie and Sian. Remember on Coronation Street? They were my first lesbians.”

“At least you all got representation at some stage. If I wanted to see another pan I’d have to watch fuckin’…Kitchen Nightmares,” Bimini rolls their eyes, their joke making the girls howl with laughter and let out cries of consolation.

And then A’whora squeezes Tayce’s hand under the blanket.

Tayce thinks only for a second before squeezing it back, and subsequently doesn’t think before turning and looking at her friend beside her. A’whora shoots her a little smile that if Tayce didn’t know better she’d say was innocent, but the twinkle in her eye and the way she shuffles herself to lean closer against her and tuck her other hand into the crook of Tayce’s elbow makes her heart give a judder like she’s been crashed into from behind.

She supposes it’s only awkward if she makes things awkward, just like A’whora said. So when Tayce gently strokes A’whora’s hand with her thumb, it’s only to illustrate to A’whora that things aren’t weird between them. It’s not to see how the other girl is going to react to that at all. It’s not because being affectionate with A’whora just feels correct and perfect, the easiest thing in the world.

Tayce is holding her breath waiting for A’whora to do something else. Something to raise her hopes, something to show her that maybe she does want something to happen between them again. She wants the film to go on forever and give them infinite time in this no-man’s-land of comfortable tension, because when it ends she knows A’whora will probably just get up from under the blanket and slip away as if everything is back to normal.

When A’whora lets go of her hand, Tayce feels her hopes drop into the pit of her stomach, a rollercoaster coming to a dead stop. The ride is over.

But a second later she wraps her arm around Tayce’s waist, squeezes her close in a hug, and the ride begins all over again. Tayce’s heart rate spikes as she shifts a little, getting comfortable before bringing her arm around A’whora’s middle too and holding her right back.

It’s then that Lawrence’s voice makes Tayce snap her head away from the film, her glazed-over eyes having to focus on her friend who’s regarding her with a raised eyebrow. “Fuck’s going on under that blanket? You two fingering each other?”  

Bimini snaps their head up and yells as Tayce tries to conceal the wave of panic that hits her, rolls her eyes and shakes her head and tells Lawrence that she needs to get her mind out the gutter. She’s sure that being called out will make A’whora flinch away, a woodland animal startled by a twig breaking, but she just giggles and buries her face into Tayce’s side all bashful.

God, Tayce wants to kiss her so much.

The film reaches the scene where Emma Thompson cries in her bedroom to Joni Mitchell, and the sniffing from the floor indicates she’s not the only one.

“Bimini! You said you hated this film!” Tayce laughs, nudging her friend with her foot.

“Yeah, but anyone who doesn’t cry at this scene is a hard-hearted bastard,” they reply, voice thick with emotion.

“Aww, BonBon. It’s okay, I’ve got a little tear as well,” A’whora murmurs from Tayce’s side. She huffs a sigh. “I can’t even believe anyone would fall for that pencil-skirt-wearing cow. I mean, she fucking manspreads and that’s supposed to be some sort of sexy come-on?”

“Aw, and like you could do any better?! We’ve all seen you trying to flirt, it’s embarrassing!” Lawrence cries in outrage.

Tayce is reminded of nights out earlier in the year when A’whora would talk to girls at bars and Tayce would always feel this inexplicable burn in her chest in response. She remembers the unfounded relief when A’whora would come back home to the flat with the rest of them, one-night-stand missions failed, and the churn in her stomach the times when she’d leave with a girl she didn’t know and sneak back into the flat at nine in the morning, ready to tell the others about her exploits from the night before which Tayce never wanted to hear.

She’s really fancied A’whora for a long time, now she thinks about it.

“I could so do better!” A’whora complains, and Tayce isn’t looking at her but she just knows she’s pouting.

Lawrence chuckles, tilting her head in amusement. “Go on then! What would your plan of action be, Miss fuckin’ Womaniser?”

There’s a pause before A’whora says, “Well I’d probably wait until we were both drunk on a night out, do tequila shots with them, drape myself over them, kiss them, then get them to take me back home.”

Tayce thinks she deserves an Oscar for the way she refuses to outwardly react to the way A’whora has essentially just described their kiss from that night out. Inside, however, it’s a different story. She’s not sure it’s possible for her heart to go any faster, and every cell of her body seems to buzz. She can barely hear Lawrence and Bimini laughing in response to A’whora’s comment for the way her blood’s roaring in her ears. Once the others stop paying attention and go back to watching the film, it’s only then that Tayce turns her head, raises one unimpressed eyebrow at A’whora who’s looking up at her with a scheming smirk on her face and a glint in her eye.

And right as she’s looking at her, A’whora closes her eyes and plants a kiss against Tayce’s arm then goes back to watching the movie as if nothing ever happened.

It’s at that point that Tayce feels her mouth dry up, feels something coil tight inside her and a throb between her legs. Something is going to happen the moment the pair of them are alone, she can feel it. There’s no way it can’t. In stark contrast to earlier, Tayce now wills the film to end sooner rather than later.

And it does. Finally. The credits roll, the Beach Boys are playing, and Lawrence slaps her thighs. “Well, that was a heap of shite!”

“I’ve still not forgiven Alan Rickman. God love the dead old bastard,” Bimini shrugs, heaves themself up off the floor and slides their phone out of their back pocket, scrolling busily. “Oh, Ellie’s asking if we wanna come join her an’ Anne for drinks. Apparently they’re in some boujie cocktail bar in town spending all their student loan and need responsible adults to stop them.”

“Why the hell are they asking us then?” Tayce quips, the giggle it elicits from A’whora sending a shockwave down her spine.

“I’m down to go meet them both. I’m already tipsy, might as well go the whole hog and get rat-arsed,” Lawrence says decisively, leaping up from the sofa and fixing Tayce and A’whora with an inquisitive glance. “You two coming?”

Tayce lets go of A’whora’s waist and stretches to make a point. “Nah, babe, I can’t. Got this essay due on Wednesday I’ve not started.”

Bimini snorts. “Yeah, I forgot. You’re dead on it and organised, in’t ya?”

Tayce pulls a face at them while Lawrence asks A’whora.

“Mmph. Think I need a nap before I even think about drinking any more, hun.”

Lawrence eyes them both suspiciously and appears to be about to say something else before Bimini tugs on her arm and distracts her. “C’mon then, let’s leave these two to be boring. Have fun, losers!”

Goodbyes are exchanged between them and Lawrence and Bimini finally leave, the fire door to the kitchen swinging shut and leaving the warm glow of the fairy lights, the blanket, the sofa, and A’whora gazing at her with that shit-eating smirk on her face again.

So Tayce wastes no time in bringing a hand up to her jaw, leaning down and kissing her, and judging by the way that A’whora melts into her and lets out a little happy sigh of satisfaction she’s been waiting for it just as much as Tayce has. They fall together like it’s easy, as if both of the times they’ve done this before have been all the practise they need. A’whora brings her hand to rest against Tayce’s cheek as if she’s trying to somehow pull her closer than she already is, and her neediness makes Tayce giggle against her lips. In turn it sets A’whora off, and when she pulls away their faces are still close and there’s little smiles on each of them.

“What’s so funny, you little bitch?” A’whora smirks, her barbed words cushioned by the way she’s wriggling onto Tayce’s lap and bringing her arms up to circle around her neck just like she did the first time in the club.

“Just you’re kind of giving me mixed signals here, baby. Saying you don’t want things to be awkward and then moving to me the entire film,” Tayce mutters, keeping a playful smile on her face despite the fact her words hold entirely too much truth.

It clearly takes the wind out of A’whora’s sails because she casts her gaze down, pauses before speaking and looking at Tayce from under her lashes. “I didn’t mean that, I just meant…I want us to be able to do stuff and not have it be awkward afterwards.”

Oh.

This is a game changer. So A’whora doesn’t regret anything. She doesn’t want them to go back to the way things were- well no, she does, just with an extra little bit of something more added in. She wants the friendship they have but she also clearly wants Tayce like she wants her back, and the realisation makes Tayce squeeze her thighs together, anticipation now so high she feels scared for her blood pressure.

Tayce tries not to let her realisation show on her face. Instead she looks at A’whora with interest, raises an eyebrow at her in amusement. “What’s ‘stuff’, then?”

“Well, just like…if we’re both horny and in the same flat then it saves us having to swipe Tinder for hours on end only to find a girl with a boyfriend who’s looking to ‘experiment’ and never found another girl’s clit in her life, doesn’t it?” A’whora shrugs blithely despite the blush that’s hit her cheeks, her turn of phrase making Tayce bite back a smile. “Whereas I’ve been told I’m quite good at that.”

The twinkle is back in A’whora’s eye again and the combination of that, her smirk and her words make Tayce’s stomach do a somersault. She can’t let it show, though, can’t let A’whora see her crack so she blinks to maintain her composure, tilts her head with mock-curiosity. “Have you now.”

“Yeah. Could show you if you wanted,” A’whora grins brazenly back at her, shifting a little in Tayce’s lap and sending her into orbit. “Plus I can’t remember if I put on matching underwear this morning, so…you should come help me check.”

Tayce breaks the stalemate to throw her head back in a laugh. “Jesus Christ, Lawrence was right. You actually can’t flirt to save yourself.”

She watches A’whora’s face drop into a pout and instantly feels as if she’s kicked a puppy, so Tayce brings one of her hands up to rest on top of her thigh and gives it a squeeze. “Says a lot for how fit you are that it’s still working though, doesn’t it?”

The pout cracks into a scheming smile, and Tayce matches it before A’whora leans in and kisses it off her face. It’s more heated this time, that little undercurrent of intensity as Tayce runs her tongue over A’whora’s and hears her whimper against her lips. As A’whora pushes her fingers into Tayce’s hair Tayce lets her hands drift around to the small of her back, and the way A’whora keeps shifting needily in her lap only makes Tayce want her more, which she didn’t think was even possible.

“We’ve got a free flat, you know,” A’whora mutters in between little kisses, her voice low as she whispers against her lips.

“Probably a good thing. You couldn’t be quiet if your life depended on it,” Tayce teases, running her fingers over the waistband of A’whora’s sweatpants in an attempt to try and convey how much she needs her.

“Oh, you have no idea, babe,” A’whora smirks before pulling away, ripping her top out from where it’s tucked into her waistband and tugging it off, barely even giving Tayce a chance to react. She’s left in a little black bralet with Playboy logos along a white band at the hem, and Tayce feels her mouth go dry.

She’s really, really hoping A’whora put on matching underwear this morning.

But she’s still taken aback because after all- they’re in the middle of their living room, and any of the others could walk in at any given moment- so she can’t help the way her mouth drops open and the way she lets out a little shocked giggle. “A’whora!”

“What?!” A’whora smiles smugly back at her, clearly glad she’s got the reaction she wanted.

“We’re not shagging on this couch, are you insane?! It’s rotten! Kim Woodburn would have a fit if she saw it!”

“Oh, so we are going to shag?” A’whora regards her with one cocked eyebrow, and Tayce can’t help but mirror it. There’s a pause before she gives a small huff of mock-resignation, sealing their fate.

“God. We’re really doing the whole friends with benefits cliché, then?”

A’whora smirks affectionately at her. “Only awkward if we make it awkward.”

She holds out her pinkie between them and Tayce takes it with a resigned laugh, the childish nature of their promise contrasting deeply with the whole situation.

“C’mon then, bestie, lead the way.”

And as A’whora scrambles excitedly off her lap and Tayce takes the opportunity to smack her ass playfully, she feels her heart soar and her head grow light at the thought of being able to do everything she’s been thinking about doing for over a month with one of her best friends in the world.

She wonders why everyone seems to say that a friends with benefits situation isn’t a good idea. This is already the best decision she’s made in years.

[reinabeestudio]

To celebrate Valentine’s Day, I wrote a humble one-shot featuring Phantom Thief Karamatsu and Detective Shinshia, inspired by the Phantom Thief set from Hesokuri Wars lol.

It is very simple, and I did it just to cater myself LMAO. But maybe some of you find it cute✨. As a small fact, I titled the story “Alone Together”.

Story under the cut!

Finally, February was here! Heart-shaped decorations in every store, roses of different colors were seen over different parts of the city, cute sweets… last but not least, there was the romance. For a long time, this was a sour month for the sextuplets. They were phantom thieves of renown, yet they never got a single chocolate in their whole lives by their fans! It was truly demoralizing, almost as bad as Christmas.

Tradition said that women were the ones that gifted chocolate for the men they had chosen. This year, however, the blue phantom thief had a mission. An important gift to give.

Karamatsu tried so many times in the past to convey his feelings to the new detective: Shinshia Doremi. She acted rough and distant at first. “We are enemies,” she declared coldly. But in the rare moments they could spent together, her behaviour softened and the real Shinshia Doremi was exposed: a warm, yet shy girl. Sadly, everytime he tried to tell her about what he felt, someone or something would interrupt their moment together. Often their separate duties, as detective and phantom thief. 

Oh, Cupid, how cruel was he! Keeping the hearts of this couple in the scale of Lady Justice, its pans so close but never together! Such a tragic fate!

Well, perhaps the vision he had of their love inside his head had evolved into something more dramatic than what it actually was in real life. But it added some excitement to whatever their situation was.

Karamatsu was no fool, either. He knew there were others interested in the girl… Mostly, his boisterous, shitty eldest. He noticed the way that idiot looked at her, and it wasn’t love. At least, not the the type of love he felt inside. The blue thief decided it was time to strike while he still had the chance, and ask her out. Subtly.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♡ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Once more the young detective ended up being one of the few remaining people in the department. Rookies got so much paperwork, it was just ridiculous. She had to keep a dictionary close to her, too. Some of these characters looked like an amalgamation made of nightmares.

To keep boredom away, Shinshia started singing, the words echoing throughout the empty office. A soft duet, the name of which she could not call to mind at the moment. However, she did remember that it was a popular love song. It was one of the first songs she heard when she first arrived to Japan.

The sun goes to sleep once more

In this lonely time, I wonder

Is your heart dreaming of me?

The detective finished with the paper she had in front of her, and grabbed the next one in the pile. “How tedious,” she thought. She kept singing to herself.

Stars twinkle above our heads

And the moon gives us her best glowing smile

But tonight, I’ll be yours...

“... And yours alone.” 

Another voice joined in with her song, singing along. Shinshia went silent and turned around, but she saw nothing besides empty desks. She went back to her paperwork, along with her song.

However, before she could sing another word, Shinshia stopped entirely when suddenly a pair of hands covered her eyes. “Who is it?” a familiar male voice asked in a sing-song tone.

“The sweet release of death, I hope.”

She resumed her work when she regained her sight as the infamous phantom thief, Karamatsu, casually leant against her desk with a subtle smile. “Long day, I presume.”

“You have no idea,” she sighed and tucked her hair behind her ears . “You should leave before someone sees you. Unless you want me to handcuff you.”

Karamatsu laughed quietly. “Heh, being helpless at your mercy sounds like a very tempting offer, darling. ” Shinshia’s face immediately flushed and he laughed again, genuinely. “But I am here to steal you away.”

“Steal me away?” Shinshia asked, not even looking away from the papers. She put some loose locks of hair behind her ear again. She was often pulling hair away from her face lately. “Sorry Karamatsu, but I have a ton of paperwork left to do. I can’t be stolen right now.”

“C’mon, Shia-chan! It won’t be for long. I’m just asking you to take a break.”

“I told you, I’m busy right n-”

The phantom thief put a hand over the paper she was writing on, and the scowling detective finally looked up at him. It was in that moment when she noticed that he was wearing casual clothes, and not his usual garish outfit filled with blue glitter. The only part that did stand out was, perhaps, the black eyepatch on his left eye. He felt triumphant over this, how she looked at him.

“Tonight, be mine alone ♪.”

After a minute of silence and a staring competition that was perhaps getting a bit too intense for the situation, Shinshia got up from her desk grumbling. “Fine. A short break.”

With a triumphant spring in his step, he suddenly scooped her up in his arms effortlessly and left the office. His plan was working so far.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♡ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Now this was strange.

Karamatsu dragged Shinshia out of the office. That was not the strange part, but instead of avoiding crowded places like he always did, they just… kept walking. Out in the open. Walking didn’t bother her, it was just unusual. He was a famous criminal, after all. It was a miracle they left the building so easily. Or maybe the author was just too lazy to think of something smart.

Wait, author? What author? That makes no sense. Just ignore it.

It was snowing outside. Snow wasn’t common where she was from, so she still marvelled at the sight of it everytime. Despite how much she enjoyed watching the snow fall, it was still cold in the streets. So smart was she, that she forgot to grab her jacket before they left, and now she was constantly rubbing her hands together.

Karamatsu laughed. “You’ll end up setting them on fire, Shia-chan.”

Shinshia snorted. The comment was lame, yet she snorted, like the fool she was. Karamatsu took her hand on his own and blew on it, before he decided to put both of their hands inside his coat pocket. She glanced at him, noticing that he was actually doing the same at her. However, as soon as he noticed her eyes on him, Karamatsu quickly looked away and instead focused on the cars that passed by.

After spending their evening with an impromptu stroll, they finally headed back to the building. Karamatsu spent most of the time silent, which was even more unusual that this whole situation. Usually, he loved doing long monologues filled with inscrutable flowery words that probably sounded cool only in his mind. But during that evening, Karamatsu seemed focused in whatever was going through his head at the moment. Then again, Shinshia didn’t talk much herself.

The poor detective couldn’t help it! He was a man that had to be put behind bars for his crimes, she knew this. However, everytime they were together, her mind just stopped working properly. This had been happening since she actually caught him once: Karamatsu, one of the six-colored phantom thieves that stole valuable pieces of art all around the city. He was pretty popular among the youngest members of her department, some of them even called themselves his fans. That was done in secret, of course.

Shinshia knew little about the man next to her. Truth be told, she wanted to unveil that air of mystery around him by herself. Not as a detective, but as… something else. Maybe as a friend. Or maybe as something deeper. Only the author knew.

Hold on, what-- you know what, nevermind that.

First she thought, maybe she was just starstruck. After all, as soon as she arrived to that building, she was assigned to the case of the phantom thieves. Shinshia was in a country that was so different  to her native Spain, and she knew no one, besides this guy. A criminal. But he kept coming back when she was alone, giving her advice and listening to her troubles… And then a bond bloomed between them. So sudden, yet so natural, as if it was destined to happen.

“Shinshia,” Karamatsu called to her softly, pulling her from her thoughts, “I have a little present for you.”

“A present? Why?”

“Just a little something I got for you! It’s fine, I promise.”

Shinshia sighed. “Well, fine.”

His eye glittered as he clasped his hands happily. Gosh, what a big baby. “Good! Close your eyes, and don’t open them until I say you can, understand?” He said that last part in English, for some reason.

Strange request, but Shinshia did what he told her anyway, and closed her eyes. She could hear Karamatsu fumbling with something- not sure with what, but it was small, she supposed. He did say it was a little something, after all. Suddenly, she felt his hands on the sides of her head, playing with the locks of her hair. He put them back, and then she felt those same hair locks being slightly pulled back by something. She feels his warm hand linger on her chin, delicately caressing along her jawline before pulling away.

“Open your eyes.”

Shinshia opened her eyes, feeling really curious about what Karamatsu did. He took out a round pocket mirror and then he showed her: a blue hair bow was holding back her hair.

Karamatsu smiled at her softly. “Your hair is growing long, Shia-chan. It keeps getting in front of your eyes, doesn’t it?” She nodded, impressed. When did he notice her annoyance at her hair? It was such an insignificant detail. “Now I can see your cute face again.”

Shinshia looked down, feeling her face warm up. “T-Thanks.”

After he put the small mirror back in its place, he took an envelope out of the same pocket. He gave it to her. It would have looked like a normal letter, if it wasn’t for the small heart on the back… And the blue glitter. So painful.

“What is this?” Shinshia took the envelope and opened it. Inside there was a single piece of black paper with text in gold letters. “An invitation?”

“Observant as always! It’d make me very happy to see you there.”

“I’m not sure, Karamatsu… this is very sudden.”

“But, Shia-chan! It will be so much fun!” Karamatsu looked at her with puppy eyes. Uh, eye. “Do it for me. Please?” 

How was that working so well, what the hell. Shinshia sighed in defeat. “I will think about it.”

Feeling victorious yet again, Karamatsu took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Good night, Shia-chan. I hope to see you there.” Those were his last words before he turned around and walked away, quickly melting into the crowd. Now Shinshia Doremi was left alone at the doors of her workplace with her heart beating incredibly fast.

The detective looked down at the sparkly envelope. This thing was so shiny that it hurted to look at it for too long. It was so painful! It was so tacky!

“You're so troublesome.” she said to no one. She released a deep sigh.

She was in love with the blue phantom thief called Karamatsu.

Shinshia decided to attend to the party, after all.

She didn’t go to parties often… mostly because she wasn’t invited to any of them. But, if she was being honest with herself, the promise of meeting him again was too tempting to resist. Also, free food and drinks.

Woah. She really had to have a deep crush on the man of strange monologues, if she was going to ignore her insecurity just for him. What a guy, he was making miracles happen even when he wasn’t present.

So she got ready, donning the prettiest dress she could find inside her closet. She wore the blue bow he gifted her, and after checking herself in the mirror, she grabbed her clutch purse and left to the party.

“Even if Karamatsu isn’t there, it’s better than to be alone during Valentine’s day,” she thought as she locked the door of her house behind her.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♡ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

It was a Valentine’s dance party. It should have been obvious, considering the day it took place. But she wasn’t aware that Valentine’s Day parties existed at all. Of course they do, why wouldn’t they? Maybe the host was single as hell, and this was their attempt in trying to find a partner. Or maybe it was a Jay Gatsby trying to find their Daisy Buchanan. Yikes, hopefully not. 

Also, every celebration needs a party, obviously.

Somewhere, someone in the world will throw a party for Cat Day. Maybe they will put a silly little hat on top of their cat’s head, followed by the confused pet trying to swat it away with its little paws and failing as the owner was in the floor laughing to tears.

That turned to be a very amusing thought, after all. It’d be so funny if someone celebrated Cat Day like that. She didn’t even know if Cat Day existed at all, but now she really hoped that it did.

Back to reality, Shinshia grabbed a glass from the nearest table as she looked around, moving between the many guests that were having fun together. Where in the world was Karamatsu? How could a single man wearing a black eyepatch be so difficult to find among so many colorful outfits? Pretty sure his full name was Karamatsu Sandiego. A famous thief whose signature look features a blue, glittery matching top hat and long cape. Of course, it all checked out, she just solved the case.

The detective was so into her own dumb line of thought that she didn’t notice the carpet, and her shoe caught. There was barely time to react; carpet veered up, her drink tipped forward, and suddenly the floor was very close. Extremely close. However, she hadn’t bit it, and that didn’t quite make sense. Gravity existed, and through gravity, she should have hit the floor.

There was something holding her up. A hand, which connected to an arm, which led all the way to a well-tailored suit. A delicious, familiar fragrance reached her nose.

“Well now,” a voice purred so slowly, and hands turned her to face upwards. Karamatsu’s face slowly turned into a tender smile. “I see you decided to come after all, darling.”

“Ah, well…” Shinshia really couldn’t say much with her waist held so enticingly by those hands, as warm hands brushed up against her skin and tickled. “I... I had to make sure that you didn’t steal anything! There are many people here wearing valuable jewelry, I’m sure you’d manage to steal something.”

“Heh, it seems my plans were ruined by the great Shinshia once more!” Karamatsu continued onwards with that smile just deepening at her sight, and somehow, he seemed to be leaning a bit closer. The room rang with cheery laughter, and the party carried onwards without a single glance towards the thief and the detective.

“You always seem to be,” one hand caressed its fine way up to her shoulder, “Stumbling around me. I’m starting to wonder if you are tripping on purpose now, hmmm?”

He knew well she wasn’t doing it on purpose. But before she could complain about that, he pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her completely. The hand on her waist pulled her just a little closer that she could feel the warmth radiating from him. He laced his fingers with hers. “I enjoy our moments together, darling.”

The orchestra struck up a mesmerizing waltz, and Karamatsu’s eye perked up enough that Shinshia could practically see the lightbulb above his head.

“Let’s dance!” he invited her without a second thought, and Shinshia stumbled as Karamatsu guided her to the dance floor. A violin hummed and a key plucked, and then his hands were on her waist, a smile beaming away. 

Unexpectedly, he was good at the waltz. What the hell, that was not fair. Shinshia found herself tripping quite a lot, and the phantom thief just chuckled everytime she crashed into his body. It didn’t seem to phase him either, he just grinned all the wider and adjusted until she fell back into rhythm. 

Finally, somehow the rhythm came to Shinshia. Maybe it was the guiding steps of Karamatsu. Maybe it was the smile he gave her as she fumbled along. Or, perhaps, it was the hand he still had on her waist, caring as it kindly led her along despite her inexperience. Whatever it was, it had her steps synchronize with Karamatsu’s, and suddenly she started noticing other things: how his rings glistened in the light as Karamatsu led both of them through the swarm of couples, or how his brown eye never looked away from her face. Small details, yet they were such lovely little things that made her heart beat wildly inside the detective’s chest.

“Say, Shinshia.”

“Yes?”

“You said you came here to make sure I didn’t steal anything, right?”

Shinshia raised an eyebrow in confusion, but she nodded. Where was he going on with this? Was he actually going to do that? She told it as a joke, she didn’t want to work tonight.

“Heh, well, my beloved Shinshia... ” Karamatsu leaned down slightly and whispered. “I believe I already stole something.”

Shinshia didn’t really notice the song grew faster until a violin screeched in delight and suddenly Karamatsu was really close. When the song was over, he had dipped her just as the last violin ended with an exaggerated flourish. 

Karamatsu leaned forward, his lips brushing hers, and perhaps it hadn’t been such a bad thing, tripping over her own shoe. Not when she could feel him gaze at her in rapt adoration. Not when Karamatsu had her so lovingly wrapped in his hands, and clutching as if she was the most fragile, most precious thing in the world that had happened to him.

No, perhaps it was for the best.

[amphtaminedreams]

A/W 2020 Fashion Month: Before Vogue Went Blank

Hi to anyone reading,

I’m sorry this post is so late! I really have no excuse apart from all my mental energy being taken up by shooting and editing my Euphoria lookbook up until now and me being too much of a lazy, nap-loving twat to face the mammoth task of a fashion month review; honestly, by the time it’s done, it’s like a dissertation-level amount of characters, so let’s say the final push to get this out is in sympathy with all my 3rd year friends I started uni with finishing their ACTUAL dissertations.

Things have got scary since I originally started saving the photos for this post, and the world has been turned upside down. In response to the COVID-19 pandemic, the likes of which have not been seen since the Spanish Flu, Italian Vogue’s April cover was blank. As I’m writing this, 26,000+ people have died of coronavirus in Italy, the worst affected country behind the U.S in terms of sheer numbers ( though quick update: as I post this, I’m pretty sure our incompetent prick of a PM has made sure we’re up there too). Proportionally, the actual death rate is even higher, along with a handful of other European countries. There have been some complaints made about the cover and it’s supposed “lack of imagination”; all I know is that in a country whose death toll accounts for 10% of worldwide coronavirus deaths, something of a visual silence feels appropriate. 

That being said, for me, writing is one of the only things giving me a sense of purpose right now. Yeah, surprise surprise, working in a grocery store isn’t all that fulfilling. Who would’ve thought it? So what better time to reflect on a time when all the rich people of the world were going about their lives as usual and sitting front row at fashion week rather than crying on Instagram live to their millions of followers about how trapped they feel in their 10 bedroom mansions.

I’ve got to say, this year’s A/W offerings were a lot better than I expected, mostly due to the fact that I’m not generally a big fan of winter fashion; it’s hard to be disappointed given my preconceptions! There’s only so many knits and coats and jeans you can see before it begins to get a bit tiring, and I expected that to be reflected in the presentations. Fortunately, even the brands which are known for their bohemian, Coachella-esque collections generally managed to translate that into something recognisable and consistent on the runway whilst actually being weather appropriate. Of course, there were a few disappointments-I’m sure if I say one of them begins with D, you can guess which brand I’m talking about-but that was more than made up for by the standouts. Gucci in particular was my 2013 Tumblr wet dream and the Moschino show was what I can only describe as a live continuation of Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette, though I’ll stop with my praise there and wait til I get to actually reviewing before I go overboard with kissing Alessandro Michele’s ass. And on that note, in chronological order, I’ll get one with the reviews! First up, Acne:

Continuing on a winning streak when it comes to catering to my personal preferences (if someone tries to tell me designers don’t care about my personal preferences I’m going to whack out that “just found out the world doesn’t revolve around me, shocked and upset” Marina Diamandis tweet), Acne once again channels futuristic hippy commune living in a dystopian wasteland. I know, those are very specific personal preferences

I love the shredded hems and the burnt velvet, the rawness of it all, and the baroque/your-nan’s-wallpaper patterns are actually a surprisingly nice touch. I imagine if Giselle from Enchanted had to make her dresses out of a thrifty goth’s curtains rather than an upper-middle-class New Yorker’s, they’d look something like this collection. You’ve even got the odd bit of classic fresh Scandi tailoring in there with the oversized coats and blazers which holds it back from being a bit TOO flea market. Plus, the renaissance painting detailing on the black leather-look coat is a stunning detail as well; I’m so glad it seems this trend is here to stay, why wouldn’t I want random nude bodies all over my clothes? 

As for the styling, I can’t get enough of the tousled hair. As an eternally tired person who can't be arsed to pick up a brush most of the time, I feel represented. Along with the outfits, it says “I’m an art student/transient painter in the 70s living in a city loft who smokes a lot of weed and does acid on the regular” and that is a life worth manifesting.

Alberta Ferretti was dreamy, and a perfect example of how to translate the bohemian aesthetic of their S/S show to A/W. Somehow despite the furs, ruffles (pussy-bows under tailored jackets and knits/generally heavier pieces always looks really chic imo), tulle, metallic tapestry style prints and chunky jewellery, it all still looks very effortless, like a natural continuation of what we saw last summer; the typically masculine structure of the oversized suits with the ornate patterns and the accessories lends to the careful navigation along the line where maximalism and minimalism meet, the looks as practical as they are decorative. Picture it: you work some high-flying, powerful job in the city, commute on a motor cycle and roll up in one of these suit sets. This collection is for the edgy businesswoman who is completely comfortable telling all the twattish males she works with where to stick it and I want to be her. 

The evening gowns are, of course, stunning too. In this analogy where I am a powerful businesswoman and not a pushover who works at a grocery store right now and only beefs with rude customers, I would be wearing one of them to the boujie work Christmas party. The ruffled dresses remind me of something Valentino would put out with the colour palette and the ruffles, and whilst we’re on the topic of colour palettes, this one is beautiful. The lilac and hot pink is SO right.

Though predictable, Alessandra Rich is just as much of a treat as usual, the first brand you’d go to if you were styling a throwback it-girl, Chanel Oberlin in Scream Queens if it took place 30 years earlier. Reminiscent of an amalgamation of vintage Chanel and Versace, there are so many cute details I love here, from the white tights with the black heels and the double breasted blazers to the gold chainlink belts and the pearls. The tartan suits with the shoulder padding are very Heathers, the prints the best of your mum’s 80s wardrobe, and nobody else out there is doing bows as well as this; these are the outfits that prissy bitch wears in the cartoons of my childhood that turn out to actually be quite good fashion inspo 15 years later, Trixie Tang from Fairly Odd Parents I’m looking at you. 

This girl was the blueprint. 

I think someone like Lilly Collins or Daphne Groeneveld would be an ideal fit for any of these looks, or Lana Del Rey if she wanted to stop serving us middle-aged suburban soccer mom and took us back to those H&M ad campaign days. Lana stans please don’t come for me for saying that, I am one of you; I say this because I love her. It’s all altruistic. 

Whilst I admittedly didn’t love it as much as last summer’s, I really enjoyed the Alexander McQueen collection too, plus I had a better idea of what to expect this time round; no, we’re not gonna get a repeat of the Plato’s Atlantis show but we do always get some beautiful pieces. Again, like with Alberta Ferretti, this seems like a natural continuation of what we saw in the summer, just with adjustments made for the colder, darker, and altogether moodier months. A/W being the gothier older sister of S/S, it seems right that a lot of the looks turn their back on the ethereal, almost fairy-like feel of what we saw before and embrace the vampier side, reds and blacks (the ultimate Bratz Rock Angels colour combination), plenty of dramatic structures and formidable suit sets. It’s punk but it’s classy, and even with the lighter pieces, we’ve got the grunge inspired harnesses on top to contrast with the elegance and effectively, toughen the whole look up, something Gucci does well too. 

The patterned suits with the clunky boots in particular are very cool and I need a gun metal grey heart detailing harness, but undoubtedly the MOMENT of this collection is Adut Akech in what appears to be a silver chainmail dress. She looks like an Amazonian goddess, and whilst I could never dream of pulling something like that off myself, I could happily admire her in it for hours.

There wasn’t much to get excited about at Altuzarra. The collection was very elegant for sure and the feathered belts are cute but it was all quite pedestrian and nothing new-the only detail I really like is the cut out on the second dress from the left, 3rd row down.

As for Anna Sui:

I’m not altogether sure why I wanted to review it. A lot of the outfits as a whole are a bit messy, and not in that avant-garde, expensive-looking Margiela kind of way, just in a “how many fabrics can we possibly get on this model” kind of way. Plus, the styling seems weirdly outdated-a lot of the jewellery looks like the kind of thing you’d see if you searched “gothic choker” on Ebay and ordered the results from low to high, and the makeup and hair in particular is very 2012 Tumblr fashion blogger. Backcombed hair and red lipstick? We’ve got a Zoella thumbnail on our hands.

When the collection did go down the bohemian route though (and when that route wasn’t a failed attempt at what Etro does a lot better), there were a few nice pieces and prints. I mean you really can’t go wrong with a teal fur trimmed coat.

Ashish, on the other hand, took their aesthetic from a similar era and did it a lot more creatively and kookily; this collection looks a lot more deserving of being on a runway. The prints are so loud and costume-y that at times the garments risk looking like something you’d wear at a decades themed dress up party, but they’re saved by understated and much more commercial silhouettes, plus some gorgeous hair and make up. On the whole, very groovy, unintentional disco queen, despite the few risks that didn’t quite pay off.

Next is a brand I always look forward to. In the words of Myrtle Snow:

BALENCIAGA!

Seriously though, if any brand knows how to blend costume and high fashion, it’s them. They take over-the-top, almost absurd silhouettes and turn them into theatre. This year we’re taking it in the direction of Phantom of the Opera, I guess? Dracula? The Woman in Black? An off-broadway production of Harry Potter where Snape is the protagonist? Whatever the direction of the collection is, I live for the dramatics of it all. Demna Gvasalia got these models walkin’ down the runway like they’re members of the Volutri, which is a reference you should all understand given the renaissance Twilight is having online atm.

Straight off the bat, I adore the staging, and all the models are exquisite-the theme of the show was climate change, and I always love when there’s a story behind the presentation of the clothes. I can’t imagine how amazing this must have been to witness in person, though I’m guessing equal parts mystical and intimidating. There are so many things I love here: billowing coats, cinched in waists, the pattens that are sprinkled sparingly in amongst the black, and the bloody shoulder pads that almost run PARALLEL to the model’s necks. This is really a collection that Myrtle Snow would be proud of and brb whilst I get rid of my padlock necklaces in favour of putting whatever meagre amount I can get for them on Depop towards a Balenciaga padlock belt (as if, lol, I don’t even think selling my soul would cover it).

And then there’s Balmain, which isn’t always the fashion critic’s favourite, but which I do tend to like. 

I mean there are some really good takeaways here-though the 80s inspired suit, as wearable as they are, can get a little repetitive, they are staples which here seem to pave the way for Olivier Rousteing to try something new for the brand. The moulded breast plates (reminiscent of the Tom Ford one Zendaya wore though I’m not sure which came first!), for example, along with the Matador-style capes and the flowing silk dresses are the most glamorous incarnation of Lara Croft one can possibly imagine, probably just as equally suited for a Roman goddess as they are for an Assassins Creed style action heroine. And yes, I am aware of the fact that Tomb Raider and Assassins Creed are two separate games, okay!  I just don’t know enough about the visuals of either to firmly plant this collection in the camp of either one, so I’m going down the crossover route with it!

Not to say there weren’t any bad choices-I omitted a good portion of the looks that were shown; there were definitely pieces that I found to be a little tacky, particularly a recurring chain print which has got to be one of my least favourite patterns out there. Overall, though, it’s gonna be the richly coloured art-deco prints, the wet-look boots and the gem-encrusted scorpion brooch which stick with me, so I’ll let it slide. 

Bottega Veneta was very meh; even of the looks I picked out, there are a lot I’m now looking back at and wishing I hadn’t included. Some of the men’s pieces are nice, sure, and I feel like one of those vaguely sick, victorian ghost looking male celebrities everyone obsesses over (Timothée Chalamet and Dane DeHaan I’m looking at you) would make those suits on the second row look fine af, but it’s mostly the womenswear that I’m here for and on this occasion it wasn’t great. A couple of the coats are nice and that’s about it. Like I really had to act as if the tassels weren’t there on a lot of the clothes and go from there because I really don’t like them in this context and if I was to veto looks purely on one of the garments having tassels, there’d be nothing to show or reference when giving my opinion on the show. They were EVERYWHERE. In a summer collection, done right, they can be a nice detail but here they just feel unnecessary and if I’m being honest, are quite ugly. 

Thank god for Brock taking the sour Bottega Veneta tassel taste out of my mouth. Never a let down. Literally, everything they put out sends me into a daze of imagining I’m in some romantic drama wearing one of the pieces, in a man’s idea of “no makeup”, running round in a field looking forlorn and windswept because my ghostly lover has-

Okay, you get the picture. I’ve never read Wuthering Heights, but it goes something like that, right? If not, lets just say envisioning myself in any of these catapults me straight into some period drama where I’m born into wealth and sit by my mansion window looking sad all the time and writing poetry and lusting over some stuffy upper-class man I can’t have and who is probably played by Colin Firth because I’m pretty sure that’s what happens in most of them (about to enrage my future English lit undergraduate sister with that line).

Nobody does modest, muted sexy to such a masterful degree. I mean, when Maison Marigela did face veils I was just mildly afraid, but here they’re subtle enough that they’re quite beautiful and almost other-worldly, acting as some kind of boundary between this world and the past that Brock aims to recapture through its designs-the red lip popping out from underneath is a perfect touch too. I don’t like it AS much as the summer collection but I would say that’s solely on the basis of the more autumn/winter appropriate colour scheme and the heavier fits, which is just a personal preference. I mean, I’m usually not a fan of empire waistlines at all and Brock even manages to make that work.

Burberry this season was a real mixed bag, mostly due to the styling. There are some really gorgeous, London back alley vintage shop looking pieces, especially the 70s style coats, reminiscent of outerwear a slimy record exec would've worn back in the day repurposed by someone like Alexa Chung or Zoe Kravitz or whichever effortlessly cool woman it is we all want to be-also the private boy’s school rugby gear looking shit is classic Burberry and I’m a fan of that, even though it’s not the most inventive or exciting. I just don’t get why there had to be SO much ill-fitting plaid over ill-fitting plaid. Again, like with Bottega Veneta, I thought the menswear was a lot stronger; whilst I wasn’t really wowed by anything, it seemed a lot less forced, whereas a few of the womenswear looks gave me the vibe of a design team desperately grasping onto some ill-conceived ideas of street style and relevancy. 

The design team at Carolina Herrera for example, know their niche. They never try to be something they’re not, always sublimely preppy and pretty and predictable-when it comes to target market, the bag is reliably secured. Laid- back princess dresses never get old for those constantly “summering” in one expensive coastal town or another, for the rich American moms attending charity galas and the Spencer Hastings and Blair Waldorfs of the world; women with glossy hair and fresh faces who act as if they woke up looking like that polished but are actually anal as hell and take 2 hours to get ready and would NEVER, I repeat NEVER, shit in a public toilet. 

Yes, I managed to worm toilet habits into a review of a Carolina Herrera collection. I’m sorry. Enough with the pearl clutching. 

Next is Celine:

I mean, when there are THIS many looks, it’s hard not to find something you like, and though VERY predictable and verging on lazy when you’re putting out the same shit every collection, Celine’s aesthetic is so similar to my own ideal style, it’s hard to be mad at it. That being said, a lot of the pieces, as per usual, came across as cheap YSL knock offs; the overall outfits are cute, but the more you look at the details-it particularly pained me to include a metal bow belt and an ill-fitting velvet skater skirt but I liked the rest of the outfits-the worse it gets. Please, PLEASE someone drive it home to Hedi Slimane, I’m begging you: QUALITY NOT QUANTITY. I get what he’s going for, 70s hipster Jane Birkin is a vision I can very much get behind, but not when it seems to be so rushed.

With the men’s looks, you can get away with it a lot more; when so much of menswear is so plain and unchanging, the slightest hint of Mick Jagger is enough to make a outfit edgy. But even then, I still feel like we’re seeing a load of variations of the same outfit. There are always some pieces that catch my eye, this time round the capes and the velvet blazers, and I would wear most of these things, sure, however I don’t think the combinations SHOULD necessarily look like something I’d personally put together; a runway collection is supposed to be aspirational and cutting edge, not pedestrian (entirely intentional self-drag, lol). Also, side note, the lack of diversity really bothered me. 111 looks and not one of these models has a body type that is naturally achievable for most people. It’s 2020 for fuck’s sake. I’m tired.

SO, let’s liven things up a bit with the Central Saint Martins collection, a breath of fresh air in terms of diversity (though a few more plus-size models would be nice):

As a former University of London student, I hate to heap praise upon them. If you’ve studied in London as well, you’ll know CSM students are ANNOYING. I mean, I’m sure they’re lovely as individuals but you can’t fully understand the meaning of the word pretentious until you’ve seen a group of them at a Uniqlo Tate Late. That being said, they are very good at what they do and I’m so glad that Vogue Runway includes them; this is what Off-White thinks it is, and really it makes sense that a bunch of current fashion students are able to come together to present one of the most experimental and forward-thinking shows of this season. 

And let’s talk about the RANGE. From catsuits worthy of comic book heroes to  dresses Twiggy would’ve worn in a 1960s editorial, every subgenre of fashion has been fully delved into here. Whilst we’ve got the adrogyny of the suits and suspenders combo and kitschy gender-bending co-ords David Bowie would be proud of, at the other end of the scale we’ve also got models walking down the runway dressed like wood nymphs or some other kind of siren-like creatures. There’s looks that wouldn’t be out of place in a Gucci or Come Des Garcons collection but at that same time would be equally at home in a Berlin techno club. 

Honestly, credit where credit’s due-it was a really interesting show and I wouldn’t expect anything less.

Chanel was quite literally the polar opposite of the CSM show. 

Very blah. 

It’s crazy because before you properly get INTO fashion, Chanel is like the epitome of style. And then you do, and you see the runway shows get lazier and lazier (with some exceptions) every year, and you realise that same prestige that had you aware of Chanel at the age of 7 or 8 is literally all that’s keeping the brand going at this point. I’m not saying the collection is flat out ugly, a lot of it’s cute, but you’re CHANEL for fuck’s sake. Yeah, I like the crucifixes but SCALLOPED HEMS!? No. I do NOT recall travelling back in time to witness Primark’s Spring 2013 collection on the runway and I am NOT having it.

It’s not at all surprising that a lot of the time newer brands Charlotte Knowles (above) tend to be more interesting than those more established-and yes that was a Chanel indirect if the transition wasn’t obvious.

With no room to rest on laurels or reputation, everything has to be bolder and smarter and more distinctive and most importantly, has to appeal to its target market with the fervour of an L.A sign spinner. I only found out about Charlotte Knowles because of a Vogue article citing her as Bella Hadid’s new favourite brand to wear, and once I saw the collection, it was clear why; daringly modern, slick, and edgy is both her street style (say what you want about her as a model but her outfit game is unbeaten) and Knowles’ USP to a T. If Dion Lee, Off-White, GCDS and Acne had an orgy, this would be the result, and that is a GOOD compliment.

Next, Chloe:

Not a huge amount to say, to be honest. Low-key, wearable, and cute. Like Emma Roberts’ Nancy Drew if she did an autumn exchange program at the Sorbonne and studied art history, libraries and coffee shops on the weekdays and galleries and protests at the weekend. On reflection, that definitely makes this collection sound more exciting than it is but there are some effortlessly beautiful pieces here. The 4th row in particular is full of stand outs-the vest with the watercolour faces on with the shirt underneath is perfection, and the burgundy suit with the saffron ruffled collar peeking out from underneath is adorable and not at all reminiscent of the Ronald McDonald inspired nightmare that any combination of red and yellow tones should theoretically be.

As for Christian Siriano, I see why people hate it, I really do. I understand that it seems kinda unfair to have it show the same week as Brock and Rodarte and Oscar de La Renta. We’re talking 2 very different kinds of quality here. BUT, at pure face value, his clothes are FUN, plus Coco Rocha will always have a special place in my heart as someone who lived on The Face and America’s Next Top Model and every show that could possibly give me an unhealthy body image ever.

Like are you telling me you wouldn’t wear these dresses to a party!? Live a little. They just need tailoring...which ideally would be done BEFORE the model’s walking down the runway in it but...you know...can’t have it all.

Christopher Kane is a show I always look forward to.

I would say his designs are the only thing that make geometry look fun but I’m going to expose myself and admit that would be a lie because I actually found geometry really fun. Trigonometry was my shit, lol.

He is a designer who perfectly demonstrates that juggling interseasonal consistency and taking risks can be done. There’s always something DIFFERENT about his collections, fresh and subtly experimental. There are occasionally a few misses, sure, but I’d rather that than for a brand to keep playing safe, plus he never goes too far in the opposite direction either; no going weird for the sake of weird. I don’t like it AS much as the summer collection but it’s mostly because of the more muted, autumn/winter appropriate colour palette.

Comme Des Garçons? Too weird?

Never.

Honestly when it comes to a CDG collection, I have to really shift my perspective to appreciate it. I’m not looking at fashion presentation, I’m looking at a moving piece of experimental art. I know, it’s a stretch. But you know you’ll never be bored by one of their shows. Not gonna lie, this specific collection crossed the line into plain ugly a couple of times for me. We had padding so extravagant it looked like several models were walking round with Ikea pillows stuck to their chest and headdresses reminiscent of the kids’ game Headbandz. In amongst that though, we did get some gorgeous veils like the ones seen above and the shoes and socks combo is actually quite wearable.

I’d say Dilara Findikoglu is the cut-off point after which things get a little too avant-garde for my personal taste, and it hovers over that cut-off point flawlessly; despite the other-worldly elements of her collections, they remain somewhat grounded by nods towards conventional fashion that allow the beauty, be it inner or outer, of the wearer to shine through. Comme Des Garcons garments undeniably have character but they tend to swallow up any trace of the individual underneath, whereas the character of Dilara Findikoglu garments seamlessly merges with the wearer and in turn elevates both to something transcendent and ethereal. If the Pussycat Dolls got transported into a rugged, post-apocalyptic future, they’d scrape together these outfits to perform in, I know it; the energy of the collection, with the body jewellery and the frayed cut outs and the chalk white faces, is very warrior princess, just as raw and intimidating as it is hot as fuck, and I want that energy in my life. Along with a Dilara belt, of course. I would wear her name like a badge of honour anytime she wants. Dilara, pls pls let me be part of your tribe. PLEASE.

Anyway, this is where I thought I’d cut things off, so as to end on a positive note. You know what that means: Dior is coming up. I feel bad knowing my first post was defending Maria Grazia and yet here I am now, looking at the bar down on the floor, but I mean, you never know; maybe girl is doing this on purpose and one day she’s gonna come out with a Gucci level quality show like a phoenix from the ashes.

If you got this far, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING even if you’re just here for the pics. Part 2 will be covering some of my most anticipated shows from Elie Saab, Fendi and Etro to Gucci and Moschino, Miu Miu and Marc Jacobs, and everything in between. Yes, the shitty ones too.

I’m plowing through all the material as quick as I can so I hope to get the next post up really soon, and yes-you can count on the overwhelming sense of needing to be productive pushing me into fulfilling that statement. 

Thanks again and I hope you’re well!

Lauren x

[emiisanxious]

Surprise is the WORST

Archive of Our Own Link

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: Gen

Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series)

Additional Tags:

Anxiety | Virgil Sanders' Birthday

Angst with a Happy Ending

Panic Attacks

Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders

Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders

Summary: “Roman had a BAD idea, a really bad idea, and while everyone agreed with that, it put Virgil in a bad frame of his mind, till he had a panic attack.

OR: I'm bad at doing a summary and this is a Birthday fic!

Although this fic is part of a series, it doesn't need to read the previous chapters. But it's more understandable why Janus and Remus are more different.

[Series: Virgil's Past and Future - Fics: Ignorance, Next Day in Ignorance, Sick Day]”

Note: But but I needed to do a Birthday fic for Virgil, soooo here it's!

For once, he wasn't sure how he felt about today. No one could say when exactly Thomas started to have Anxiety, so he didn't have a birth date. Although, he would question if traits should have a birth date since they are not human? But the fanders and Thomas decided that today was his birthday.

So he wasn't sure how he felt today.

He was rolling on his bed thinking about it; in theory, it was already his birthday. After all, it was 4 in the morning, but no one was awake. He decided to gets up and goes to the kitchen so he could drink some water.

Should he be happy? Or should he ignore it and think about it like any other day? It was confusing and weird. Last year his birthday present was doing a Halloween-themed video on Christmas eve, Virgil honestly had way too much fun dressing as a vampire.

And the year before? It was that weird 12 days of Christmas song that Roman created, even though he won't admit it, that was fun. As they said, it was a video to commemorate their first Christmas together.

But this year? This year they didn't have anything planned, sure Thomas would do a live stream for patreons, and that was enough for Virgil to feel anxious and be awake so late in the night. But his family? They didn't say anything about it. They weren't thinking about doing anything at all, in all honesty, they were preparing a Christmas party. After all, it would be with Janus and Remus.

Shaking his head once, trying to dispel whatever he was thinking, he got up from --- When he sat down in the sink? And walked back to his room, sure he was thinking way too much like always. Throwing himself in the bed, way too lazy to change his clothes or undo his makeup, he snaps his fingers, and with that, he was already in pajamas and a clean face.

"I'm thinking way too much... When did I start to care about birthdays?" He says at his room, as he closes his eyes, picking his earbuds and phone, playing some music. "Time to sleep." Even though he said that it would take at least one more hour till he finally was sleeping.

-----

"Are we really doing that?"

"Yes! Of course, we are!"

"But won't he feel more anxious?"

"He will be anxious anyway because of the live stream."

"Yeah... But..."

"It's not like we are harming him."

"But he will be anxious! Isn't that a good reason not to do this?"

"Just... Try to relax, okay? He will like it... In the end."

"Okay... Don't let me alone then."

"We never intended to."

-----

"Viiiirgiiiiiiiiil ~!"

A singing voice was knocking and almost yelling outside of his door as he growls, slowly waking up. "WHAT?!" He was a bit annoyed by been awake with so much happiness at what? 9 am? "It's 9 am ROMAN!"

"I know, Emo." Roman opened the door and was now leaning on the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. "But we need you to wake up. Thomas needs to prepare for the living stream."

"He can do that without me. Just let me sleep a bit more." He says as he pulls the blanket over his head, trying to hide from the light coming from his door.

"Won't you eat something for breakfast?"

"Roman, I stayed awake till 5 am I barely had 4 hours sleep. If you don't want me freaking out during the live stream and making Thomas anxious all day, you better let me sleep!" Virgil was annoyed, almost slipping on his tempest tongue.

"Fiiiiiiiiiine. Padre said he would let something for you to eat on the fridge." With that Roman was out of his room, closing the door.

Sadly, that was enough for him to wake up. He was tensed and annoyed, and sure he wasn't going to be able to sleep back. A loud growl as he gets up and starts to do his morning routine.

That was also enough for him to start to spiral in thoughts once again about his birthday. That is how he messed up doing his make up twice, once applying the eyeshadow how it was supposed to be used, over his eyes. And the second time, he just forgot to smudge it, he remembered when he was holding the doorknob to go out. The second time was more easy to fix.

He put on his headphones instead of his earbuds, as he goes out of his room, playing some punk music since if he needs to stay awake all day, he might as well. Virgil ignored everyone who tried to say anything to him till he did his coffee and drink it.

Honestly, he tried to ignore the spiraling thoughts as he finishes drinking his coffee, sitting in the chair. A small tap on his shoulder was enough for him to remember to take out the headphones. "Morning Pat."

The man was smiling softly. "Morning kiddo. Did Roman woke you up?"

"Yeah... Something about the live stream..." Virgil says in an annoyed tone.

"Well, I'm sure he totally did that not on purpose." Deceit said as he gets in the kitchen. Picking up another cup of coffee. "Also, morning Virgil."

"Morning Jan." He sighs again as he yawns. "Yeah... I figured that much."

"Oh kiddo, maybe you should try to sleep a bit more later?"

"Will do... Maybe a nap, later in the day." He frowns a bit, sure for now that Patton would at least remember and comment about it, right? Or was he thinking so selfish about himself? It was Patton! He would remember, right? Even Janus remembered when he was still on the Dark side.

"Virge? Can you help me decorate the Christmas Tree?" Morality asked casually, breaking his spiraling thoughts. "Janus and I, are in charge of that, while Logan is busy helping Thomas with the tech stuff. Roman and Remus are brainstorming."

"Sure." Right he forgot, his birthday is like five days before Christmas Eve, of course, they would be more focussed on decorating and preparing for that! After all, it would be their first Christmas with Remus and Janus. With a small sigh, he didn't mind, he was the one who said he preferred not to do a big deal over things. So why he felt so... Sad?

After his breakfast, he did help Patton and Janus decorate the tree, this year they also created yellow and lime greens decorations since now they had two new members in the family. He was free after lunch, which did him goes back to his bedroom.

Pulling the blanket over his head, he felt bad and selfish, he felt... Sad. Forgotten. That wasn't good. Even though Remus, Roman, and Logan were back during lunch, they also didn't say anything. He won't mind the awkward 'happy birthday' wishes, at least he would know that they remembered.

But... Remember what? The first time he appeared? How did Roman, Lily, and Thomas want to get rid of him? Or to tune him down. Or how bad he was. Who would want to remember that? Who would want him here in the first place?!

Was that their way to show that they didn't care about him? Nooooo... They totally did care about him! Otherwise, Roman wouldn't wake him up, or Patton wouldn't want his company to decorate the tree.

He could see the shadows in his room getting darker, he didn't need to get up to figure out that his eyeshadow was also darker. "Better sleep..." Virgil sighs at that as he closes his eyes, not bothering with anything else. He would do the live stream, and then he would just forget this day.

-----

"I'm not so sure this is a good idea..."

"I'm inclined to agree with him."

"You two are just worrying too much!"

"Yeap! He will be fiiiiine."

"Hm... You know I don't think this is a good idea either..."

"OH MY GOD! You three are worrying too much! He will love the surprise! Just think that!"

"This is a mistake isn't it?"

"YES!"

"NO!"

"I will talk with Thomas."

"Nooooooo!"

"Yes! If he agrees we keep this, if not we will just try to fix the situation."

"He is sleeping..."

"You won't want to wake him up."

"If we need to fix the situation then we will do after he wakes up."

"I told you it was a bad idea."

"It's a marvelous idea!"

"I think he will agree with me when he finds out."

"Of course he will! Making him anxious about his birthday is NOT something nice!"

"Oh, please, he is anxious all the time. It will be fine."

-----

When he woke up later, he felt groggy, he wasn't sure what time was, as he sits on the bed. Yawning as he picks up his phone. Oh, nice he was late for the stream! It was already 5 pm! Why didn't no one... They didn't care about him, did they? At the realization, he just throws himself back at the bed, not caring about it. If they didn't care about him why he would go there?

Instead, he just stayed there. Laying on the bed, scrolling on his phone, happy birthday wishes on the fandom, he saw fan arts, he also read some fanfics. It was fun, to see how the fanders would celebrate his birthday. Maybe he should go to imagination visit Emile and Remy, but he couldn't bring himself to do that.

In reality, he couldn't bring himself to go out again, he didn't want to see anyone, he felt hurt and sad that no one remembered his birthday.

-----

"Virgil didn't wake up yet?" Thomas asked as he looked at Logan.

"Well, if he did wake up he didn't go out of his room." The logical side answered as he fixes his glasses.

"I told you that was not a good idea!" Patton said as he was holding one hand on Janus's arms, trying very hard not to show how sad he was.

"Well, I agreed with Patton after breakfast." Janus sighs as he looks at them. "But the Twins."

"HEY! It's a fabulous idea! He will love it when he sees it!" Roman says as he puts a hand over his heart offended.

"He will love all the decorations! It will be like Halloween!" Remus says happily that he was able to work with gore and blood decorations.

"That is not the issue here." Thomas sighs.

"How are you, Thomas?" Logan asked curiously.

"If you're asking if he ducked out, no, he didn't. He is still around. I still feel anxious about the live-stream. And all. Oh... I need to go!" Thomas says. "Break is over."

"Okay." Patton and Janus weren't looking happy. As both took parental figures they were still worried about Virgil.

"Well, I will finish my gift! While one of you go pick him up!" Roman says happily as he sinks out.

"Oh Oh! I will go there and make sure all the decorations are right then!" Remus was hyped as he sinks out as well.

Logan, Patton, and Janus sigh at that. "Logan can you...?" Patton asked with a small sad sigh.

"Yes, you both try to be happy that is ending at least." Logic says as he starts to walk towards the purple door.

Patton and Janus sighed at each other, honestly, that was a dumb idea. Both knew that mostly because Patton's emotions was been a bit pessimistic, probably was Virgil not controlling his powers, and Janus was used to dealing with Anxiety before so he knew how the other disliked surprises.

-----

"Virgil?" Logan knocked at the other's door, he felt a bit more cold than normal.

"One sec." He was rolling on his bed as he gets up and walks towards the door, opening it. At his point, he didn't care if his room was darker and colder than normal. "Sup specs. What you want?" His eyeshadow was darker, as he was affected by his room more.

The navy trait frowned at the vision, blinking a few seconds. "Are you okay?"

"Totally." He lied as he shrugs.

Logan didn't believe it but he let it go. "I need your assistance in the imagination if you up to it?" He wasn't the type to stall so Logan was straight to the point.

Virgil tilted his head to the side. "Sure." He closes his door and lets the headphones around his neck as he follows Logan around. At this exact time, he felt depressed and honestly tired from thinking how much the fanders were nicer to remember his birthday than his family.

The walk was silent, he wasn't sure what he wanted to talk with Logan and neither if he should tell anything. A few moments later, they were in a darker room, and soon he felt more anxious and aware. "Logan? Are we... In the right place?" Fear started to creepy on him.

"Yes. We are."

His vision wasn't adapting to the darkness, slowly he could feel fear and his breathing was starting to uneven. Did they finally got tired of him and wanted to... Make him disappear? Or to merge with the subconscious? No... He was too important for that... Right?

He was lost in thoughts, but he couldn't miss the flash of light and everyone yelling: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

His lips paled, as he fell hard on his knees, holding a hand over his chest, he wasn't able to breathe, his vision was blurry with dizziness and he was trying very hard not to cry.

"I told you it was a bad idea!" Janus said pissed, as he walked towards Virgil. "Vee, look at me. Hey!" Deceit moved his hands in front of Virgil. "Look at me!"

He did that, although he wasn't able to focus exactly on the half-snake face.

"Can I touch you?" As the yellow side receives a nod, he moved his hand to pick the other, sitting on the floor with him in his lap. Hugging him. "Hey close your eyes and follow my breath right?" Another nod as Janus started to count the breathing pattern and as well exaggerating his breathing. "You're doing great Vee. Keep going."

He focused his sense towards Deceit, following his breathing, everything felt numb, he could barely hear Patton scolding the twins. Logan couldn't say anything as he just watched. "Virgil?" A few minutes later he was back to normal, as he moves his eyes to Janus. "Are you okay?"

"Mhm... I guess?" He still felt anxious, he still felt weird, and he still had a lot of thoughts in his mind. "You all didn't... forget?"

"No, Vee. We could never." Janus said as gently as possible.

"So... You all don't wanna make me... Disappear? Or... Hate me? Or or..." Virgil's voice falls in silence as he tries to tell out his thoughts.

"NO!" Deceit yelled, although it did scare Virgil. "Sorry, I didn't want to scare you." With that, he hugged the anxious closer and tighter. "No Virgil, whatever you thought today, we don't want to. We care about you, we love you."

"But..."

"I'm sorry kiddo." Patton finished scolding the twins. "Roman and Remus said it was a good idea to fake we forgot your birthday... While they planned a surprise party. We told them it wasn't a good idea but they didn't listen."

"We are sorry..." The twins were looking at the floor, embarrassed. "We thought... If you don't like it we can leave or..."

It took several minutes, for everything to be explained and to get to the point where Virgil was stable enough to understand and calmer. After that Janus helped him to get up on his feet. Logan and Patton weren't sure what they should do, and the twins were still looking embarrassed.

"I... Okay... Can we... Just... Celebrate it today and... Talk about it tomorrow? I can be angry and annoyed with this tomorrow... Right now... I think it would be better if I..." Virgil was lost in words as he tries to explain.

"Of course we can!" Patton smiled at that, as he moves to let Virgil look around.

It was a room with black walls, the ceiling was decorated with moon and stars, meanwhile, the walls and the furniture were based in the Victorian Era, it was remarkably edgy, they avoided spider objects but he could see the cobwebs decorating the room.

He smiled at that, even the cake and the sweets were in black and purple, bringing a sense of Halloween in the middle of Christmas time. "Let me guess? Patton did the cake, Janus did the sweets and both decorated it."

Patton and Janus smiled and nodded.

"Logan helped to decorate the ceiling because he wouldn't like the wrong representation, and with the furniture. While Remus summoned it and helped decorate with cobwebs. I bet he also used the spiders in my room to do that."

Both also nodded.

"And Roman had the idea and put it together, yelling and saying who was late with what. And helped to create the room?"

Everyone laughed at that. "Hey! I didn't yell!" Roman sounded offended at that. "You was bossy." Remus pointed out. "Even though we all were doing things..."

Virgil looked at them arguing like brothers and then around, he could see the thoughts behind the decoration and was chuckling at that. "Right both of you shut up." His family was there and everything was like he dreamed about. "Thanks. I loved it." Sincerity as he turns to them. "Now let's party!"

He honestly wasn't the type to party, but... He wanted to enjoy it. He cared about the birthday and if his family wanted to celebrate it with him, so why not? He could loosen up and enjoy it, the rest of the night was fun, Janus was taking pictures instead of participating but sometimes he would be dragged to play. They played, they laughed, forgetting all the problems for a moment and... Just enjoy the celebration.

"Hey, did you know today is also National Emo Day?" Logan said nonchalantly.

"Whaaaaaaaat?!" Janus and Patton were surprised by that.

"Oh, that makes sense! It's Emo day! After all, it's Virgil's Birthday!" Roman said happily about that.

"Uff... That was bad." Virgil says while eating a sweet. He couldn't deny that he felt happy to know about it as his eyeshadows were a constant purple now, that he felt really happy with the party.

[solange-lol]

not so typical love song - ch. 5/13

Chapter Title: Love Lies

Words: 4,137

Art by @lizzybizzyo! <3

[ one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight (coming soon)]

read on ao3

—

Nico walked through the gate to Jason’s back porch just as Reyna stepped out the back door. Both of them were fully in costume, so they took a second to admire the other’s choice.

“Nice horns,” Nico commented Reyna, who had gone full Maleficent in all-black, complete with a black cape and staff. Thick black horns were glued onto a headband, and she wore delicate silver wing-shaped studs.

 “Are the wings to symbolize the crow?” he asked, with a vague memory of the movie plot when she had shown it to him.

“No, stupid, I couldn’t get giant wings for her so I got mini ones,” Reyna rolled her eyes, and Nico nodded as more of the movie came back to him. He had forgotten about the wings if they were being completely honest, but he kept that part to himself. “And thanks, though I have to duck every time I walk through a doorway because of the horns.”

“You wouldn’t if you weren’t going on six feet tall.”

“You’re just jealous,” she quipped, and Nico hated that she’s sort of right. Being 5 '4 in a school where every guy seems to be over 6 foot is both a blessing and a curse.

Jason stepped out the door just then. “Nico what the hell are you supposed to be?”

“A dementor? From Harry Potter?” Nico replied incredulously, pulling his hood over his head. It was Bianca and Reyna’s idea, and it meant he got to wear a black cloak, so he went along with it. 

“Haven’t you only seen like, three of the movies?” 

Nico flushed. “Unimportant.” 

“Jason, this is like a new level of laziness for you. Where is your costume?” Reyna interrupted with a sigh, looking defeated. Nico pulled his hood back down, noticing for the first time he appeared to be dressed in everyday clothing.

Jason always encouraged them strongly to dress up, but when it came time for him to find a costume he seemed to go the easiest route. 

“This is my costume! I’m Where’s Waldo?!” he defended, gesturing towards himself. Nico tilted his head and squinted, sort of understanding it with his red and white striped crewneck and the red and white hat, as well as a pair of blue jeans and his normal glasses. 

Without context, though, he sort of just looked like he was dressing for the cold weather. 

Reyna sighed again. “Come with me, I think your sister has a cane from one of the shows somewhere. It’ll at least help instead of making you look like a casual Santa.”

“I do not!” he protested as he followed Reyna back inside.

Nico sat down on one of Jason’s lawn chairs, knowing it would probably be some time before the two came back out. He sort of always suspected that Reyna liked Jason, but unfortunately his crush on Piper was clear to everyone except for him, which ended in some harsh friendzoning. At least Piper and Reyna got along, for the most part. 

Up until recently, Nico considered trying to help try and get Jason and Piper together because as far as he could see, Piper maybe liked him back. 

Now though, he was working against them, and that was crushing to his spirit. 

He debated sending Blue and email about it, but unfortunately, that was just part of the secret Nico was keeping from him.

It still sort of hurt knowing that he was hiding something so major from Blue. It hurt knowing that Blue didn’t want to reveal their identities yet because that would just make life so much simpler. 

That was Blue’s business, though, and Nico was willing to cross any line for him. Which was how he got caught up in all this shit anyway. 

With the memory of his conversation with Octavian parking in his brain, Nico leaned back and cursed quietly to himself. He still had no idea how he was actually going to help Octavian to get Piper to like him, considering she’s already threatening him, and changing Piper’s mind wasn’t very easy.

Speaking of Piper, Jason and Reyna were just walking back out the door with a wooden cane when Piper walked through Jason’s gate, dressed in a Wonder Woman costume, including a red tank top tucked into denim shorts printed like the American flag, and a small circlet of gold rope hanging from one of her belt loops. Her hair was in a half up/half down ponytail, a gold headband with a red star was pushed back on her forehead, and white socks were pulled up along her ankle from her pair of red Converse high tops. 

“Wow, Piper you look… amazing,” Jason paused from his spot in the doorway, taking it all in. 

Nico didn’t miss the way Reyna’s eyes flashed before she, too, complemented Piper’s costume.

She thanked them both just as Nico sighed, realizing that he was going to have to tell them about Octavian.

“By the way,” he stared down at his shoes, already regretting his decision. “I invited Octavian to ride with us.” Immediately, there was a chorus of groans and Nico winced.

“Why did you have to invite him,” Jason asked, throwing his head back at the same time Reyna asks “Is this a Make-A-Wish situation?”

Nico swallowed. “He’s cool, trust me.”

—

Needless to say, Octavian was not very cool, and neither was his costume. He tried dressing like some sort of greek god in a toga and laurel wreath but ended up looking more like someone’s failed beach wedding.

 After a painful 10 minute car ride that felt more like 10 hours, they finally got to the Stolls’ house. Nico was hoping that Octavian would disappear, but he clung to Nico and Piper as they walked inside the house. 

“Hey, guys!” Travis Stoll greeted them, clearly already tipsy.

He was dressed in a pair of overalls with a matching red shirt and hat embedded with a white M. Nico could only imagine that Connor was then wandering around somewhere with an identical green costume. The Stolls’ made it a habit to dress in ironically matching costumes, which only confused people more whenever they tried to explain that they weren’t twins.

“Can I get you guys any drinks?” They all nodded except for Octavian and Reyna. As Nico and his friends followed Travis into the kitchen, he was glad to notice that Octavian dropped off somewhere along the way. Hopefully, he wouldn't be back for a while.

The kitchen was less crowded than the rest of the party. It was mainly just people stopping in the get drinks and then leaving. Only two figures stuck around to have a conversation at the bar. One was Lou Ellen, who was dressed in a black dress and a pointy witch hat. The other was currently looking down at their drink.

The shark person lifted their head at the noise, and Nico instantly smiled at who it was. “Will, you made it! And that’s a great costume!”

Will returned his smile with a dazzling grin of his own, and Nico felt his heart skip a beat. “Thank you! I’ve been recycling it for a few years now so I’m glad somebody still likes it.” 

Next to him, Lou Ellen rolls her eyes.

“You’re costume is great. A dementor, right?”

Nico’s smile grew. “Yeah, exactly.” 

Will gestured over to Jason. “And Jason is dressed as… as Jason.”

Apparently, Jason heard them though, and turned around, looking exasperated. “No, I’m Where’s Waldo?!”

Will nodded. “Right,” he said seriously, before turning to Nico and giving him a look of amusement that made Nico’s heart thud in his chest. 

Travis handed Piper three cups, who handed Jason and Nico each one.

 Nico took a sip from his and cringed immediately at the taste. “What the hell is this?”

Will leaned over and takes a sniff of the cup. “Dunno. Smells fruity. Screwdriver, maybe?”

Nico wrinkled his nose. “It’s a little vodka-heavy. Tastes like an actual screwdriver,” he said before taking another sip, once again pulling a face of disgust. 

“I’m taking you don’t drink often?”

“Once a year, always on Halloween,” Nico rolled his eyes. “And maybe wine at Christmas.”

Will laughed softly, shaking his head as a few curls fell in front of his eyes, and Nico felt heat pooling in his stomach. 

If Will wasn’t Blue, well, they might have a problem.

—

At some point in the party, Nico found himself walking past the living room where drunk karaoke was taking place, and outside. His eyes were trained on Will, who's standing next to a ping pong table full of red solo cups. The sleeves of his onesie are now rolled up to his forearms, showing off more tan, freckled skin. 

When Will noticed Nico walking towards him, his eyes lit up. “Nico! Hey, you wanna play beer pong?”

Nico didn’t, not really, but he’s tipsy and he needed an excuse to be around Will more, so he found himself agreeing. The way Will grinned at him made it feel sort of worth it, at least. 

“Okay, cool! We just need two more people.”

Nico glanced around them. “Okay, how about me and you on a team, and then…” he trailed off, searching for someone he at least knew so he’ll be able to laugh about this later with them. 

His eyes fell on Piper and Reyna dancing together with Annabeth, who’s dressed as Harley Quinn. He could see Octavian trying (and failing) to budge his way into their little circle, and an idea sparked in his head. “And Octavian and Piper?” 

Will’s eyes narrowed for a second at the mention of Octavian’s name, and Nico cursed himself internally for forgetting about the unspoken feud Will had against him. Thankfully, he seemed to shrug it off. “Sure. I wouldn’t mind kicking Octavian’s butt.”

Octavian looked up at the mention of his name, and Nico nodded at him and Piper.

‘Me? And him?!’ Piper mouthed, waving her arms. Nico just shrugged and nodded in response, and Piper groaned. Annabeth and Reyna both gave her a pitying look as she walked over to Nico and Will.

“You are gonna pay for this, di Angelo,” she hissed as she walked past him to the other side of the table, although Nico didn’t feel all that threatened by her anymore. (Which was probably the alcohol in his blood talking.) 

“Okay, have you ever played before?” Piper asked, rubbing her hands together.

“Oh, totally, yeah,” Octavian nodded, clearly lying. Both Nico and Will refrained from rolling their eyes at him; they exchanged a look of exasperation instead. 

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea…

Piper, who either didn’t notice or didn’t care (probably the latter) continued with the rules. “Alright, two reracks, no blowing, and two balls in the cup means you have to take three, okay?” 

Will and Nico both nodded, and Nico’s glad he’s played beer pong with Piper before, otherwise he would have no clue what she meant. 

Octavian, on the other hand, clearly had no idea what she was talking about. He mumbled something about thinking they were playing a different game, and this time, Nico couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Will doing the same.

“We’ll just explain as we go along,” Nico sighed, getting in position to toss the first ball.

“Oh, wait,” Will interrupted him, putting a hand on his shoulder, and Nico felt like an electric current was running through his body. “Maybe you should tie these sleeves up. Wouldn’t want to prohibit your shot.”

He helped Nico tie the long sleeves of his cloak up at his shoulders, and Nico was definitely blushing now. “Thank you,” he told Will, who just smiled and nodded.

Nico kissed the ball before shooting it, and mentally thanked all the times his friends forced him to play with them as it landed in a cup.

Octavian looked over at Piper, who shrugged. “All you.”

Octavian just nodded, picking up the drink and chugging it. He attempted a throw after that, completely missing. Both Nico and Will had to bite their lip to stop themselves from laughing.

They went back and forth for a while, Octavian doing most of the work for him and Piper’s team while she stood by the side and watched, both tired and amused by his antics.

As for Nico and Will, well, they’re killing the game. 

They ended up winning with four cups left still on their side. Nico was drunker now from the few cups Octavian did manage to get a ball into, and he and Will hugged. The contact is more than what Nico could process at the moment, making his senses completely overwhelmed. 

It’s not in a bad way though, and it’s the most fun he’s ever had at one of these parties. Heck, it’s the most fun he’s had all week, ever since the whole mess with Octavian started. 

Except Nico’s forgotten about Blue for the time being, because right now he’s here, living in the moment with a really cute guy in a shark onesie, which is honestly all he could ever ask for. 

—

After a rousing drunk duet with Will, followed by an embarrassing karaoke solo of his own, Nico found himself staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He could still hear the party music pounding outside, and he’s probably drunk out of his mind, but at this moment, he feels stone-cold sober. 

This is his time to tell Will that he’s Angel. 

“Hey, Will, it’s me, Angel!” he slurred, practicing what to say. This was his moment to let it all go; he couldn’t afford to mess it up. And maybe it’s drunken confidence that he’ll regret the morning after, but at least it will be out. 

He tried again. “Hey, Will. I’m Angel.”

That didn’t sound right either. Maybe something witty… “Hey, did you fall from heaven? Because you look like an angel. I’m an angel too! Y’know… Angel? That’s me!”

He sighed. “Just had to pick Angel, huh, di Angelo?”

Despite his failed efforts, he left the bathroom in search for Will. He’s still upstairs, and he saw Will disappear up the stairs earlier when he was singing, so it’s his best bet as to where he is. 

He moved through the hallway, not sure which door to try first.

There's some sort of movement coming from the room at the end of the hallway. Praying he’s not walking in on Travis and his girlfriend, he opened the door.

What he found was something worse.

Will sat on the edge of the bed. The sleeves of his onesie were pushed up farther than they were before, nearly to his shoulders, and his hood was pushed down. The first button or so is unbuttoned, revealing a white shirt underneath. 

All of this could be due to overheating if it weren’t for the girl in his lap.

Nico felt his heart drop as they both stopped making out to turn and look at him in surprise. He vaguely recognized the girl; Lacy, who was dressed in some sort of slutty Snow White costume, was in the grade below them.

Will stood up, making a move to go towards him, but Nico started backing out of the room as he choked out an apology. 

“I thought this was the bathroom, sorry,” he said quickly before running from the room. He moved back for a second to close the door, apologizing again. 

He sat down for a second outside the room, clawing at his hair. He wanted to unsee it all, wanted to forget it. Wanted to unsee the way Lacy was running her fingers through Will’s hair. Wanted to unsee the way Will gripped her waist, pulling her towards him. Wanted to unsee how she moved back towards Will as he was closing the door. 

He wanted to forget Will altogether, how he looked so apologetically guilty of something when Nico walked in on them, and how his eyes followed Nico on the way out. 

He took a deep breath, pulling himself together. It would have been too easy if it was Will. He needed to keep going, needed to keep looking.

He tried to ignore how broken he felt inside on the way back downstairs.

When Nico reached the bottom of the staircase, his eyes quickly scanned the room for Reyna. He was way too tired to try and make it through the rest of the party. He really didn’t want to hang out with anyone but Will right now anyway. 

Nico spotted Jason, who was passed out on the couch next to Piper. She had on Reyna’s horn-headband for some reason, but at least that meant Reyna was probably nearby. 

Just as he spotted her behind the couch talking to Percy, who was wearing a bucket hat and a leopard print shirt, appearing to be dressed as Mr. D (probably out of spite) when Octavian walked up to him. 

Nico sighed, shaking his head. “Not now, Octavian, alright? I’ve had a long night—” He was interrupted, though, by Octavian puking all over his shoes. 

“God, really?” Nico cried, stepping back from him.

Octavian lifted his head, looking more drunk than apologetic. “Sorry,” he muttered, before running off.

Nico just grimaced, trying to look anywhere but down. Thankfully, Reyna witnessed the entire situation and made her way over to him.

“Let’s go home,” he sighed, and she nodded. 

—

The car ride home was peaceful; something Nico was relieved after the night he just had.

 They had left the party with Jason and Piper, who had basically fallen asleep on top of each other in the backseat until they reached their respective homes. Thankfully, Octavian didn’t follow them out.

Once everyone was dropped off and Nico was sure Reyna was asleep on the mattress at the foot of his bed, he pulled out his laptop. 

Reyna had seemed off that night. Usually, she was this confident, respectable figure that everyone wanted to have the approval of. She was usually sociable at parties, and tonight it was no different, but she seemed to always be watching everyone from afar. Like she wasn’t totally in the moment.

It was weird to see someone you look up to be in the exact same situation that Nico felt like he was in most of the time.

Nico decided he was going to consult Blue about his friend group. He may have said that he wouldn’t, but now he was so sick of being in between everything, and there was one person that could clear some of the fog from his brain.

From: bettertoburn@gmail.com

To: blue0919@gmail.com

Date: Oct 31 at 12:44 AM

Subject: Advice Needed

This isn’t something I would typically ask for help with, but I honestly don’t know what to do. One of my friends likes the other, but he has no idea because he likes someone else. Any idea about what to do?

Anyway, to not make this email completely useless if you have no idea either, I’ll talk about what I’ve been thinking about recently.

Have you ever realized that straight people never have to come out? I mean like, besides the unfortunate situation when someone assumes you’re gay and you’re not, but nobody is going to get mad about you being straight. So why do I have to come out? Why does my family have to know I like guys for it to be respectful before I hypothetically have a boy to bring home?

(I don’t.)

Love, Angel

It felt like second nature writing the email; just typing as his thoughts went. He sent it without reading it over like he usually does.

He was about to close his laptop and go to sleep when something he had written caught the corner of his eye.

Love, Angel.

“Shit!” Nico whispered to himself. He quickly tried to see if there was any way to reverse what he had just sent, but the damage had been done.

Nico just had to hope that Blue doesn’t flip out because of it.

—

Nico was sitting in his fourth period math class the next day, barely paying attention and counting down the minutes until he could go take a nap in the library during lunch. The consequences of last night were hitting hard, and he was dealing with a pounding headache and nausea every time he looked at the math problems on the board. Whoever thought most kids would actually show up to school the day after Halloween wasn’t thinking clearly. 

More than half of Nico’s grade was missing, including the Jason and Piper. The Stolls weren’t there either, though that was to be expected. Nico would be surprised if they even showed up on Monday.

Will Solace was in school, which unfortunately shattered Nico’s last hope of what he walked in on just being entirely alcohol-influenced. Nico felt his heart pang as he realized it was probably time to move on from Will in search for the real Blue.

Anyway, math was hell in general, but especially worse today. His Algebra 2 teacher, Mrs. Dodds, was an actual demon. (She once threatened a kid by telling them she drank baby tears.) As she tried to teach them compound inequalities, Nico felt his eyes drooping further and further. He eventually just gave in to the risk that he might face the wrath of the demon for sleeping in her class, and he let his eyes slip shut. 

(Besides, maybe a quick nap would help his headache.)

Just as he nearly fell asleep completely, Nico felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and his heart dropped.

He had been dreading Blue’s response ever since he sent that email with the L-word last night. Best case scenario was Blue would just skip over the ending, but judging by the way Nico read and reread every email that he received, he sort of doubted it. 

Some excitement that came with it. It was the truth, wasn’t it? Otherwise, Nico wouldn’t have written it. Obviously, there was a huge amount of fear, but it also made Nico’s heart pound dizzyingly every time he thought about Blue.

Sparing a glance at Mrs. Dodds, who still had her back turned, Nico quickly pulled out his phone. He hoped he’s not risking a Saturday detention for a text from Jason, but when he saw the Gmail icon alongside a familiar email address, his breath caught in his throat. 

Nico held his breath as he swiped open the notification, ignoring the way his eyes strained painfully from trying to read with this cursed hangover headache. 

This could be it, he thought, then shook the thought away and began to read. 

From: blue0919@gmail.com

To: bettertoburn@gmail.com

Date: Nov 1 at 10:52 AM

Subject: Re: Advice Needed

You have to be 21 to gamble, and it’s too bad I’m not because if I were to bet that you were drunk emailing me last night, I think I’d hit the jackpot.

(Luckily, it seems I’ve hit the jackpot getting to meet you.)

You’re probably freaked out about what I’m going to say here, but don’t be. I liked it. 

I like you, Angel, but I think you already knew that.

And you’re right about the coming out thing, that does suck. But I’m actually glad you mentioned it because you’ve inspired me to come out to my mom. So thank you, really. You don’t understand how much you’ve done for me.

Love, Blue.

(P.S; I guess you didn’t catch on from the Nutella story, but I’m really bad at advice. I’m not quite sure what to do about your friends, but I honestly don’t think it’s anything you can fix. You can’t force someone to be in love with someone that they just… aren’t. Good luck, though, and make sure you’re there for them when they need you.)

Nico felt like he had just stopped breathing altogether. Honestly, he didn’t think he breathed at all while reading that letter, and he sure as hell wasn’t breathing now. He reread the words “Love, Blue” over and over again, as he finally exhaled. 

(Secretly, silently, he cursed at himself for reading the email in Will’s voice. That second to last line hit too hard after last night. It’s time to move on, di Angelo!)

Blue liked him. No, Blue loved him. And he was going to come out to his family, which maybe, maybe meant he was one step closer to revealing his identity. 

Nico switched off his phone and shoved it into his bag, refusing to let his hopes get too high.

Nevertheless, he had never looked so happy in a math class.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #247

“i tried to choke my mom with my umbilical cord, the doctor was too busy amputating my horns.”

Have you ever had confetti pancakes? I don't believe so. Do you obsess over your appearance? To a degree, ex. in regards to weight. Are you responsible for stuffing someone’s stocking? No. What’s your favorite romantic comedy? Ah man, idk. I like romcoms, just none are coming to mind right now. Do you stock up on make-up palettes during November? ????? no????? Have you ever taken a class online? Yes. Do you have a Neopets account? Omg I have so many piled up, I'm sure, lol. Loved that shit and kept going back. Do you make your own smoothies or juices? No. Do you think time really does heal all? No. Are you more sensitive to heat or the cold? HEAT, FUCKING CHRIST. Has anyone searched your room for anything recently? Mom helped me search for one of my mood stabilizers that the cat got out of my basket... We never found it. A new bottle. Thank god my psychiatrist just gave me a sample pack til my prescription can be refilled. Is anything in your room purposely hidden? Yes. Do you get a cold around the holidays? I rarely get sick, regardless of the season. Does it snow where you live? Rarely. Have you ever been pranked via hidden camera? No. Is hair gel a turn off on guys? "Not necessarily, but too much can be." <<<< This. Do you think cursing makes people sound unintelligent? Lol fuck off. What’s something you can cook extremely well? The only thing I CAN cook is cheesy scrambled eggs but I mean they're exceptionally good lol. Have you ever been bitten by a snake? Nope. How about a spider? Possibly at some point. If you don't want kids, was there ever a time you did, and vice-versa? The only time I ever wanted kids was deep into Jason's and my relationship. It's funny because I wanted three and now I'm just all NOPE. I stopped wanting kids after him. What is your favorite color for bridesmaid dresses? Idc. Do you ever count sheep to help you fall asleep? No. Do you have a youtube channel? If so, when did you start it? Yeah. I was on YouTube real early... don't remember the actual year, though. Do you have a secret crush right now? No. When was the last time you called customer service? I haven't. Do you take birth control pills? Not currently for mood reasons, but with my incredible fear of being raped, I kinda wanna go back. Do you like chocolate cake? Yeah man. Do you know anyone who doesn’t want to have kids? Plenty of people, myself included. Do you regret letting a certain guy or girl slip away? Ugh idk. There's no telling how awfully or well that path would've gone. Have you ever fainted? Yes. Do you consider yourself a good artist? Decent, anyway. Do you ever play board games anymore? Not really, I don't enjoy board games. The only time I ever really do is if Girt's over cuz that's like our "thing." Who was your first celebrity crush? Whew, Jesse McCartney. Who in your family did you get your height from? Mom. Who did you get your smile from? your hair color? your eye color? Smile, idk. Hair, also unsure. Dad was born dirty blond like me, but his hair turned black. Meanwhile I think Mom has always had brown hair, but hers is very dark/almost black. My maternal grandpa had blue eyes like me. Do you have big or small hands? Idk, normal. What was the name of your first imaginary friend you remember having? I never really had one. Do you pray to God regularly? Considering I don't believe in Him, no. What is your favorite version of the Bible to read? Even growing up religious, I sure never spent time reading various versions of the Bible. Have you been baptized? If so, how and where were you baptized? I was as a baby in a Roman Catholic church. You know, the traditional baptism with being dipped in water. Do you eat meat? Sadly. What college did you go to? and what was your major? I'm not sharing what college I go to, but my major is Art & Design. Do you miss living with a roommate? I look back on living with Jason, Jacob, and Amanda fondly most of the time, but idk if I can say I miss it. I at least don't miss my mental health. Have you ever been abused in any way? I feel incredibly thankful that I haven't... It seems like most people I know have been in some way or form. Do you like unicorns? Yeah man, they're dope. How old were you when you found out Santa wasn’t real? Idk, some year in elementary school. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? Ha ha no, I've got a cat for that. He insists on being cuddled most of the time. Name 3 things you are allergic to. Just pollen and silver. Oh, I do get headaches from artificial sweeteners, but "allergic" seems like the wrong word. Is there one book you have read over and over again because it’s so good? if so, which is it? The only two books I know I've read more than once are Because of Winn-Dixie and the Meerkat Manor book. Who was your favorite Rugrats character? Uhhh I think it was just regular ole Tommy. Which fairytale resembles your life the most? Uh idk. Do you play games on your phone a lot? No. What’s your favorite thing to do on your phone? Text Sara. Where do you buy most of your clothes? Wal-Mart or Hot Topic. Who is your favorite cousin? I don't have a favorite. Do you have family that lives in another state? Oh yeah, we're all the hell over the place. What states have you lived in? Only NC. Do you watch birth vlogs on youtube? bitch what the fuck What is your favorite type of cake? Red velvet. Favorite arcade game? I neeeeeed to find an arcade one day that actually has the Silent Hill game. It's so rare. I'm sure I'd love it. Have you ever found a roller coaster relaxing? Uh no, but I've never been on one, nor can I even imagine one ever being relaxing. Have you ever seen a spirit? I believe I have. Have you ever been kidnapped? Yikes no. Is there a running trail near your house? Not that I'm aware of. A game you cheated on in elementary school? None that I remember? Do you wear a retainer at night? I'm SUPPOSED to, but I haven't in so long that it doesn't even fit anymore. Where is the last place you had a kiss? The airport. When was the last time you cried out of physical pain? I think it hasn't been since that infected cyst was drained in like late '16. FUCK that. Have you ever done anything to Support the Troops? No. Do you donate blood? I did once, but now I'm too nervous to because I know I don't drink enough water and don't wanna faint. Have you ever owned the socks with toes on them? Ha, yeah, my sisters and I did. They were just a silly gift sometimes. What were you the last time you went trick or treating? WOW I couldn't even try to tell you, that's reaching far back. What was your favorite part about studying ancient Greeks and Romans? The badass names lmao. Where did your mom go to high school? Somewhere in NY. What’s a subject you would never major in? Mathematics. Is there someone who you can turn to for money and not be ashamed? No. I'm only EVER capable of doing so with Mom, but even then I don't like it. Have you ever swam in a river? Yeah, as a kiddo. I don't think I would now. What food do you love the smell of while it’s cooking? Cinnamon rolls omfggggg. What food do you hate the smell of uncooked? Fish, I guess? Has a bee ever stung you? Yes, once. Where did you last go camping? Never been. In what month do you start Christmas shopping? I can't Christmas shop considering I don't have an income. Have you ever slept in a bed with someone with bad BO? Yes. Do you have a favorite flavor at Baskin Robbins? No. Have you ever had a crush on a celebrity of the same sex? HUNNY Hannah Hart is a GODDESS godDAMN What kind of flowers would you plant in your garden? I'm too lazy for a garden. Do you believe that kids should be taught abstinence? I would definitely inform them of it being a completely valid and safest form of STD prevention, but I don't believe it should be what is "right." What's important is educating them on safe sex and to choose whom they're intimate with very carefully. I absolutely encourage them being taught what being "too young" means, too. Now what "too young" is can be argued, but let's be a late teen at least. When’s the last time you went to Chuck E. Cheese? Boy, I don't have a clue. What’s your favorite cheese or cheese flavored food? American. Cheese-flavored food is absolutely impossible to pick. Do you like black licorice? I hate licorice. Do you watch anything on the E! network? No. Have you ever tried out or thought of trying out for American Idol? Nope. Did you keep any momentos of high school dances? I had my... what's it called? The flower band on your wrist? Whatever, I had that for a long time. Do you still have clothes from your high school dances? I have both prom dresses. I'm probably gonna try to sell them this prom season though because I have absolutely no reason to keep them, and I'm poor lmao. Can you touch your nose with your tongue? No. Ever been to the original 13 colonies? I live in NC so like,,, Have you ever been to a concert that got out of control? Nope. Can you jump rope double dutch? I used to be able to as a kid. I loved jump rope. If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know? Eek... idk. Actually, I might know. I want to know, but also don't, if whether or not how I treated Jason after the breakup was abusive or not. I've asked people in my life, old therapist included, if it was from what I told them (which was honest), and the unanimous answer has been no, that I was sick/actually insane and heartbroken beyond words, but yeah. I still wonder about it. Do you have a bucket list? If so, what are the top three things? Not really, but I mean of course there's things I wanna do, top two (idk about three) being to meet Mark and visit the KMP to photograph and pet the meerkats. Do you feel you had a happy childhood? For the most part, yeah. When did you last cry in front of another person? Last week when I was having a meltdown about school. How do you feel about tattoos and piercings? Explain. I LIVE!!!!!!!! FOR THEM!!!!!!!! As someone who never felt totally comfortable in her body, one thing that has always helped me has been new tats and piercings. It's like a more permanent form of make-up, you could say. All they've ever done is make me like a part of myself. Do you wear a lot of makeup? Why/why not? I almost never do unless I want to take a "pretty" picture. Talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way. JINKIES!!!!!!! UHHHHHHH man that's hard 'cuz there's a whole whoppin' load. I guess I can talk about some lyrics from Ozzy's "Life Won't Wait" that used to make me really emotional back in the dark days: "Every day that you wait, you're falling faster / no sleight of hand, no twist of fate, no ever after / when it's gone - it's gone, a fight to the bitter end." Just that whole song used to sting so much when I felt like I really was just entirely wasting my life being sad every day. Just like... a lot of Ozzy's lyrics have really resonated and stuck with me. I still have the hardest time believing the Parkinson's news. God, life's cruel. Poison a legendary singer's voice. I hope, so long he feels truly capable, this concert still happens so I can actually hear and see him one time and literally sob and okay I'm getting emotional basically I Love Ozzy Osbourne. List the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel. Ha, speaking of concerts. Only seen Alice Cooper, but it was aaaaaaamazing! Outside in a (mostly light) thunderstorm playing some classic good shit. It was a fun adventure, especially having my younger sis, a full-on redneck, come along just because she was bored and came for the ride. She was so, so, SO confused and creeped out and was NOT fucking happy when he brought his python on stage as he usually does. We were absolutely drenched when it was over; the ride home, we were freezing, and changing out of those soaked clothes was like a holy experience. Who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say? Jason telling me he forgives me and doesn't hate me. Do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organized/not organized? I don't, sadly. My bed is where I do like... everything, which I hate. I'd love to turn my sister's old room into like my "work" room, where I do homework, draw, etc., but I can't for a number of reasons. What is your night time routine? Go to the bathroom, take my meds, go to bed. Not very complicated. What’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know? Certain places I've "done things" oops. If you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why? I wanna dye my hair lilac currently. I wouldn't change the style. What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high? N/A What’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars? Murder, to name just one. If you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? If you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair? My hair is short now. What is the most important thing to you in your life right now? My mental health.

[dailybestiary]

Patch Has Issues: Dungeon #2

Issue: Dungeon #2

Date: November/December 1986 (Pretty sure my Christmas haul that year was full of dope toys from The Transformers movie/show.)

The Cover:

(Use of cover for review purposes only and should not be taken as a challenge to status. Credit and copyright remain with their respective holders.)

Ah, Clyde Caldwell. He, Larry Elmore, Jeff Easley, and last issue’s Keith Parkinson were the mainstays of TSR’s amazing stable of artists. I have a soft spot for Caldwell. He did the covers for the D&D Gazetteer series, which means his work emblazoned some of my absolute favorite books from my middle school years. (At the time I had the whole series except the two island books, GAZ 4 & GAZ 9 (which I’ve since collected), plus the Dawn of the Emperors box set. My favorites, for the record, were GAZ 3, 5, 10, and 13. I...may like elves...a little too much.) And even as I sit here, other covers demand to be named. The very first Dragonlance adventure, the iconic Dragons of Despair? The Finder’s Stone trilogy? The first Ravenloft box? Dragon #147? Yep, he did those covers too. He was amazing.

But hoo-boy, we also have to talk about the not-amazing parts. Once Caldwell settled on a way of doing things, that’s how he did them. Points for consistency, but man, he had tropes. Even his tropes had tropes. He had a way of painting dragon’s wings. He had a way of painting swords and boots. He had a way of painting jewelry, and belts and coins—ovals upon ovals upon ovals.

And his way of painting women was with as few clothes as possible. Everything I said about Parkinson last entry? Yeah, that goes double for Caldwell. He never paints pants when a thong will do. His take on the reserved and regal Goldmoon—thighs as long as a dwarf and bronzed buttcheeks exposed—reportedly left Margaret Weis in tears. Magic-users (God, I hate that term) famously couldn’t use armor in D&D and AD&D, but Caldwell’s sorceresses pretty much stick to gauze just to be safe. And the Finder’s Stone trilogy I mentioned above? Yeah, the authors of Azure Bonds took one look at Caldwell’s cover art and literally had to come up with in-text reasons why the heroine Alias—one of the most surly woman sellswords in existence—would wear armor with a Caldwell boob hole.

Don’t get me wrong, I love cheesecake as much as the next dude. (Actually that’s not true; I came up in the grunge ’90s—our version of cheesecake was an Olympia brunette in three layers of thrift store sweaters reading Sandman while eating a cheesecake. Hell, that’s still my jam.) But context matters. The sorceress from “White Magic,” Dragon #147’s cover, may barely be wearing a negligee, but she’s also in the seat of her power and probably magically warded to the hilt—she can wear whatever she damn wants; it’s her tower. So no complaints there. But this cover’s pirate queen Porky Piggin’ it seems like an unwise choice. (The friction burns alone from clambering around the rigging…)

It’s clear from reading The Art of the Dragonlance Saga that TSR was trying to turn the ship around when it came to portrayals of women in fantasy, however slowly. And in Caldwell’s defense and to his credit, he definitely delivered women with agency—in nearly every image, they are nearly always doing something active and essential. They just tend to be doing it half-dressed.

Which is all a way of saying I dig this cover—the explosion, the churning sea (even if it does more look like snow drifts than waves), the sailors all running to the rail to look—but yeah, that pirate captain needs to put on some damn pants.

The Adventures: Before we get started, I have to note that though we’re only an issue in, already the magazine feels more noticeably like the work of editor Roger Moore. This is 100% a guess, but it really feels to me like Dungeon #1 was made of adventures that the Dragon office already had laying around, whereas Dungeon #2 was composed of adventures that Roger Moore and the new Dungeon team had more of a hand in sifting through. (He also has an assistant editor this time in Robin Jenkins, which had to have helped.) Even the cartography looks better. Again, I have zero confirmation of this, but the feeling is strong.

“The Titan’s Dream” by W. Todo Todorsky, AD&D, Levels 5–9

PCs visiting an oracle accidentally walk right into a titan’s dream and must solve some conundrums to escape. What an awesome concept this is! (Spoilers for “Best Concept” section below.) It’s a shame I don’t like this more.

First of all, dreamworld adventures are really hard to do well. And for them to work, there usually need to be real stakes—and not just “If you die in the dream, you die in real life!”—and/or a real connection to the PCs in your campaign. The latter, especially, is really hard to pull off in a published adventure; typically it’s only achieved through tactics that critics deride as railroading. (For instance, @wesschneider’s excellent In Search of Sanity does a great job of connecting the characters to their dream adventures...but it does that by a) forging the connection at 1st level, and b) pretty strongly dictating how the adventure begins and how the characters are affiliated. It works, but that’s high-wire-act adventure writing.)

Being a magazine adventure, “The Titan’s Dream” doesn’t have that luxury—it’s got to be for a general audience and work for most campaigns. That unfortunately means the default “Why” of the adventure—a lord with a child, a wedding, and an alliance at stake hires the PCs to chat with a wise titan—is little more than that: a default.

On top of that...I cannot get excited about anything Greek mythology-related. To me, just the fact I’m seeing it is a red flag.

Look, Greek mythology is why I got into this hobby. Hell, it’s why I got into fiction, period. (For some reason I somehow decided I had no use for fiction books targeted to my age, with the exception of Beverly Cleary. Then in 4th(?) grade, I got a copy of Alice Low’s Greek Gods and Heroes, and the rest is history.) But Greek mythology is often the only mythology anyone knows. When people think polytheism, that’s where most people’s minds go. Which is why, if you ever played D&D in the ’80s, I pretty much guarantee your first deity was from that pantheon. (In my first game, my first-level cleric pretty much met Ares and got bitch-slapped by him, because that’s what 4th-grade DMs do.)

So to me, putting Greek deities or titans in your adventure is the equivalent of putting dudes riding sandworms into your desert adventures—you can do it, but you better blow me away, because that is ground so well trod it’s mud. And this one doesn’t do the job.

The format is three dreams, each with five scenes. Parties will move randomly—a mechanic meant to represent dream logic (or lack thereof)—through these scenes, until all the scenes from one dream have been resolved. This is actually kind of fascinating, and I wonder how it would play at the table—I have a feeling observant players will dig it, but others may find the mechanism’s charm wears off quickly, especially if they have difficulty solving the scenes or get frustrated with the achronicity of events. I also like that every scene has a number of possible resolutions, so the PCs aren’t locked into achieving a single specific objective like they were stuck in a computer game.

But...I can’t shake the feeling of weak planning and execution (or even laziness?) that stayed with me throughout the adventure. Like, okay, the first adventure is a cyclops encounter out of the Odyssey. Cool! But then...why does the Titan follow it up with pseudo-Norse/Arthurian encounter? Did the Odyssey not hold the author’s attention? (Nor the Iliad, the Aeneid, or Metamorphosis? Really?) And then why is the third dream “drawn from the realm of pure fairy tale”? Like, were you out of pantheons? Horus didn’t return your calls? Or be more specific—why not German fairy tales, or Danish, or French Court, or Elizabethan? It feels like a class project where one group was on point, one group got the assignment a little wrong, and one didn’t even try.

Again, it’s not even that this adventure is bad—I honestly can’t tell if it is or not; I’m sure a lot of its success is determined at the table. And I could totally see throwing this at a party if I was out of inspiration that week or we needed a low-stakes breather before our next big arc. But the instant I think about it for more than a second, it all falls apart for me.

Have any of you tried this one? Let me know what you thought. And for a similar exploration into dream logic/fairy tale scenarios, I recommend Crystal Frasier’s The Harrowing for Pathfinder.

“In The Dwarven King’s Court” by Willie Walsh, AD&D, Levels 3–5

Willie Walsh is a name we’re going to see a lot more in issues to come—he’s a legendarily prolific Dungeon contributor, delivering quality, typically low-level, and often light-hearted or humorous adventurers issue after issue after issue. His first entry is a mystery with a time limit: A dwarf king is supposed to make a gift of a ceremonial sword to seal a treaty, but the sword has vanished. Brought to the king’s court courtesy of a dream, adventurers must find the sword and the surprising identity of the culprit before the rival power’s delegation arrives.

At first I was going to ding this adventure for its “What, even more dreams this issue?” hook...but here’s the thing with Walsh—never judge his modules until you reach the final page. Nearly every time I’m tempted to dismiss one of his sillier or more random adventure elements, it turns out that it makes sense and works just fine. In this case, the cause of the dream is haunt connected to the mystery, and I feel dumb for being all judgy.

So anyway, the PCs are given leave to search for the stolen object and the thief, but of course it turns out there is a whole lot of light-fingeredness going around. As Bryce (see below) puts it, “It’s like a Poirot mystery: everyone has something to hide.” This castle has as much upstairs-downstairs drama as any British farce, with nearly every NPC having either a fun personality and/or a fun secret (and with the major players illustrated by some equally fun portraits) that should make them memorable friends and foils for PCs to interact with. Not to mention the actual culprit is definitely a twist that will be hard explaining to the king...

GMs should be ready to adjust on the fly, though—a) it’s a lot of characters to juggle, and b) since the PCs are 3rd–5th level, the right spells or some lucky secret door searches could prematurely end the adventure as written. You may want to have some last-minute showdowns, betrayals, or other political intrigue outlined and in your back pocket if what’s on the page resolves too quickly.

Overall though, I’m a big fan of this adventure, and look forward to the rest of Walsh’s output. Also, given the dwarven focus and the geography of the land, this adventure could be a very nice sequel to last issue’s “Assault on Eddistone Point.”

“Caermor” by Nigel D. Findley, AD&D, Levels 2–4

Look at this author’s list of writing credits! Findley was amazingly prolific, and his work was pretty high-quality across the board, as far as I know. I particularly loved the original Draconomicon, one of the first and only 2e AD&D books I ever bought as a kid. I also loved his “Ecology of the Gibbering Mouther” from the excellent Dragon #160, and some of his Spelljammer supplements are currently sitting upstairs in my to-read pile, recently purchased but as yet shamefully untouched.

Now look at his age at the time of his death. Life is not always fair or kind.

(Speaking of unkind, man is the bio in this issue unfortunate in retrospect: “[H]e write for DRAGON® Magazine, enjoys windsurfing, plays in a jazz band, and manages a computer software company in the little time he has left.” As Archer would say, “Phrasing!”)

Anyway, this adventure is simple: An otherworldly force has been murdering the locals. The locals have pinned the blame on a handsome bard from out of town, and their own prejudices and general obstinacy are sure to get in the way of the investigation—that is, if the true culprits, some devil-worshipping culprits and and an abishai devil, don’t get in the way first.

All in all, this is a tight, well-written adventure, so I don’t have much to say about it, other than that if you like the idea of sending your party to help out some young lovers and save some faux-Scots/Yorkshiremen too stubborn to save themselves (and maybe slip in a valuable lesson about prejudice and xenophobia as well), this is the adventure for you.

One thing that does jump out to a contemporary reader, though, is the comically overpowered nature of the baddie pulling the strings in this adventure: Baalphegor, Princess of Hell (emphasis mine). Overpowered, you-won’t-really-fight-this-NPC happens with a lot of low-level adventures, when the writers want a story more epic than characters at the table can handle or are trying to plot the seeds for future evils. But still, any princess of Hell would already be a bit much...but an 18-Hit Dice, “supra-genius”, the Princess of Hell? Like, what the f—er, I mean, Hell?

If you use the adventure as written, the only way to have Baalphegor’s presence make sense is to eventually reveal that the area is an epicenter of some major badness. (Maybe that explains the lost nation of evil dwarves in the adventure background.) For a good model on how to seed early adventures in this matter, Dungeon’s Age of Worms Adventure Path and Pathfinder Adventure Path’s Rise of the Runelords AP, both from Paizo, are exemplars of small-town disturbances that eventually have world-shaking implications.

It’s also fascinating in retrospect to note Ed Greenwood’s massive impact in the hobby. Any article that appears in Dragon has the sheen of being at least semi-official, but it’s clear that Greenwood’s content was a cut above even that. In this case, an NPC from a three-year-old article of his is not just treated as canon, but also supplies the mastermind behind the adventure! It’s no surprise that in the following year his home campaign, the Forgotten Realms, would soon become AD&D’s newest and then its default setting.

Two final thoughts: 1) There’s some fascinating anti-dwarf prejudice in this article. Nearly every mention of dwarves paints them as exceptionally greedy and/or villains. And 2) how did one even begin to balance adventures in those days? This adventure is for “4–8 characters of 2nd–4th level.” There are a lot of difference at the extreme ends of those power scales…

“The Keep at Koralgesh,” by Robert Giacomozzi & Jonathan Simmons, D&D, Levels 1–3

One of the problems of BECMI D&D being known as “basic D&D” is that writers often assumed the players to be basic (that is, younger/new) as well. Which probably accounts for some of the early suggestions to the DM we get at the beginning of this adventure—like some pretty patronizing advice along the lines of not immediately announcing to PCs what the pluses are on their magical swords.

Fortunately, after that the article settles down and gives us Dungeon’s first real D&D adventure. In fact, not just real, but massive: 20 full pages of content—nearly half the issue! It’s a fully fledged dungeon crawl that has the PCs taking advantage of the summer solstice to open a shrine door that will lead them inside a long-ruined keep said to hold great treasure.

Now, I imagine in the coming installments it’s going to seem to many of you like I’m grading D&D adventures on a curve, because of my love for the system and the Known World/Mystara. That’s a fair accusation, but a better way to consider it is that I’m reviewing D&D adventures for what they are—adventures from a separate system, with a more limited rules system and palette of options than AD&D. You don’t go to a performance of Balinese shadow puppetry and compare it against Andrew Lloyd Webber; you look at it for what it achieves in its own medium. Since they appear side-by-side in the same magazine, comparison is going to be inevitable, but that’s with the understanding that AD&D was the kid coloring with the 64-crayon box of Crayola, while D&D was getting by with just eight.

On its own terms then, “The Keep of Korgalesh” is a decent, if not superlative, success. I love that it’s practically module-length and that we get three complete levels—a far cry from the previous issue’s side-trek-at-best, “The Elven Home.” We also get two new monsters, which absolutely fills my inner BECMI D&D player with glee. And I like that what starts as a dungeon crawl/fetch quest evolves into a “kill the big bad thing” and “find out what really happened to this city.”

There are issues, though. If the whole city was destroyed, getting to see some of it besides the keep would have been nice. Some of the ecology for the dungeon inhabitants is questionable. There pretty much wasn’t a single pool or fountain in this era of D&D adventure design that wasn’t magical, and this adventure was no exception. One of the new monster’s names makes no sense except that “tyranna” and “abyss” are cool words (I mean, I guess you could read that as “tyrant of the depths,” but still…) And there are painfully obvious borrowings from other works, especially Tolkien—a door that only opens at solstice, a lake monster, an orc with a split personality that is clearly a Gollum homage, etc.

What this adventure really needs is stakes—just something to give it a bit more oomph beyond the dungeon crawl. (Finding a blacksmith’s lost hammer is the hook offered in the adventure but it’s pretty flimsy.) Perhaps the PCs are some of Kor’s last worshippers, and clearing out the dangers here and resanctifying his temple is one of their first steps toward returning him to prominence. Maybe the PCs’ grandparents were involved in the city’s demise and restoring Koralgesh will restore the families’ honor. Or you could keep it simple and have a band of pirates or a rival adventuring group also trying to clean out the keep, turning it into a race (with the tyrannabyss causing the scales of fate to wobble at appropriately cinematic moments).

So the final analysis is this is a decent dungeon crawl upon which you can build a good adventure. The real reward of this module isn’t treasure; it’s finding out just what happened to Koralgesh. But for that to matter, it needs to tie into the PCs’ pasts, futures, or both.

BONUS CONTENT FOR KNOWN WORLD/MYSTARA NERDS: Kor is almost certainly a local name for the sun god Ixion. The chaotic deity Tram is probably a local version of Alphaks, though Atzanteotl is another strong candidate, especially since deceit was key to the pirates’ success. Koralgesh could be located somewhere on the Isle of Dawn, the northern coast of Davania, or an Ierendi/Minrothad Isle that those nations haven’t made it a priority to rebuild.

Best Read: “Caermor.” Nigel D. Findley was a pro.

Best Adventure I Could Actually Run with Minimal Prep: “The Keep at Koralgesh,” as a well-written, straight-ahead dungeon crawl. Every other adventure here relies on a pretty strong handle of very mobile NPCs and their motivations, or a Titan’s dream mechanics.

Best Concept: “The Titan’s Dream,” as noted above. It’s a great idea very worth exploring, even if I wasn’t about the execution we got in this case.

Best Monster: This was actually a monster-light issue. Despite some awesome art for the tyrannabyss, I have to go with the epadrazzil, a scaly ape from a two-dimensional plane of existence that has to be summoned via a painting. All of those details are just so wonderfully and weirdly specific it has to win. (Extra points for anyone who noticed the thoul—a classic D&D monster (though it did make its way into AD&D’s Mystara setting) born from a typo.)

Best NPC: Since this is a role-playing-heavy issue, there are a bunch of contenders, and the final verdict will go to whoever your party sparks to at the table. Obviously King Baradon the Wise should get the nod for [spoiler-y reasons], but I also really like the opportunity the executioner Tarfa offers, thanks to his incriminating goblet and how it might bring the PCs to the attention of a far-off assassin’s guild at just the right level.

Best Map: All together the maps from “The Keep at Koralgesh” form an extremely appealing whole. But for best single map I have to go for the palace of Mount Diadem—that is a bangin’ dwarven demesne.

Best Thing Worth Stealing: Jim Holloway’s illustrations of dwarves. Good dwarf, gnome, and halfling art is hard to find, and even the good stuff often leans stereotypical. While Holloway’s art is often humorous—I have a feeling he and Roger Moore jibed really well, though that’s totally a guess based purely on what assignments he got handed—his dwarves, especially in this issue, are fresh, specific, and unique. You could identify them by their silhouettes alone—always the sign of good character art. If you need an image of a dwarf NPC to show the players, “In the Dwarven King’s Court” is a great first stop.

Worst Aged: Female thong pirates on magazine covers. Also using the actual names of actual mental illnesses in game materials.

What Bryce Thinks: “This seems to be a stronger issue than #1, although half of the adventures are … unusual.”

Bryce actually almost likes “The Titan’s Dream,” confirming my loathing of it. He in turn loathes “In the Court of the Dwarven King.” Like me, though, he is pro-”Caermor” and sees potential in “The Keep at Koralgesh.” (Also credit where it’s due: I might have missed the condescension at the start if he hadn’t called it out.)

So, Is It Worth It?: If you’re a Clyde Caldwell fan, this issue might be worth searching out in print. So much of Caldwell’s work from this era was dictated by product needs, cropped and boxed up in ads, or shrunk down to fit on a paperback cover. So to get this cover in full magazine size, with only the masthead tucked up top to get in the way—that could be well worth a few bucks to you.

Also, if you’re BECMI/Rules Cyclopedia-era D&D fan (or know someone who is), again, this one might be worth having in print. “The Keep at Koralgesh” is a legit, proper BECMI D&D adventure, spanning 20 whole pages and with two new monsters to boot. I would have practically have cried if someone had given 7th-grade me this.

Beyond that you can probably just rely on the PDF. But both “Caermor” and “In the Dwarven King’s Court” have strong bones worth putting some modern muscle and skin on.

Random Thoughts:

The Caldwell cover painting was also used for the Blackmoor module DA4 The Duchy of Ten. PS: I’m not trying to tell you what to do or anything, but if you do happen to run across a physical copy of The Duchy of Ten or and of the DA modules, holla at ya boy over here.

Since this is our second issue, we now have a “Letters” column. Turns out Dungeon had been announced in Dragon #111 with a really detailed set of writer’s guidelines; most of the correspondence is questions re: those. In the process of answering, we get some surprisingly frank talk about payment. The $900 for a cover seemed low until I converted it to 2018 dollars, and ~$2,000 does seem right to my ignorant eye. I then made the mistake of converting my current salary to 1986 dollars and felt a lot worse about myself and what I’ve achieved.

Apologies this took so long to post. I had the issue read by early October and most of this review written with the next week or two after...but then I got involved in dealing with a 4.5 week hospitalization and aftermath...and then a second still-ongoing hospitalization...and even though I only had about four paragraphs left I just couldn’t find time to put a bow on it.

Notable Ads: The gold Immortals Rules box for D&D. (I also still don’t have that one yet, and Christmas is coming. Just saying, guys, if you happen to find one in your attic.) ;-) Also an ad for subscribing to Dungeon itself, starring “my war dinosaur, Boo-Boo.” No, really.

Over in Dragon: Beneath a glorious cover, Roger Moore is the new editor of Dragon #115, three authors (including Vince Garcia, who I like a lot) share credit on a massive six articles about fantasy thieves, a famous article proposing that clerics get the weapons of their deity (people were still talking about it in the “Forum” column when I was buying my first issues two years later), and a look at harps from the Forgotten Realms (notable because behind the scenes Ed Greenwood’s home setting was being developed for the AD&D game for launch in 1987.) A photographic cover and a 3-D sailing ship are served up in Dragon #116, along with maritime adventures, more Ed Greenwood (rogue stones), and articles for ELFQUEST, Marvel Super Heroes (Crossfire’s gang), and FASA’s Dr. Who game (looking at all six(!) doctors). (Incidentally, I had an Irish babysitter around this time who first mentioned Dr. Who to me—I wish I’d explored more but I was too young to understand what I’d been offered.)

PS: Yes, I’ve heard about the upcoming Tumblr ban. It is a terrible idea that will affect way too many of my readers. It shouldn’t affect me much (and I have all my monster entries backed up at the original site), but I will keep you posted as I learn more, particularly if I find you, my readers, packing up and going elsewhere.

[mrsslrss]

2018.

My first memory of 2018: I woke up at 5 a.m. and spotted an enormous bug on my bedroom wall. I was mildly hungover after a really lovely and somewhat raucous party in my house, and when I saw the bug I felt like my stomach dropped out of my body. (I’m a wimp! It had so many legs! Stay with me.) I tried to rouse M for about 10 minutes to kill the bug with no luck, then told myself, with an air of forced gravity, It’s 2018, and I must kill the bug myself. Which, I am glad to report, I did. 

I think I told that story a lot this year in the hopes that the more I retold it, the more it would come to define my year: You know, being brave? Taking charge and vanquishing, uh, icky stuff? (And later, for all the times I told the story of starting my day by sweeping up the post-party-confetti-canon detritus and throwing away the half-used Solo cups before my roommates woke up: Doing rather thankless work for a greater good?) I’m not sure I mastered the art of “manifesting” in 2018, though (sorry Oprah!); I certainly wasn’t as generous or industrious as those stories would suppose, but the image of me resisting something frightening then eventually/begrudgingly giving in and being grateful I did — I suppose that rings true.

It’s easy for me to be blue in December — to think about what didn’t get accomplished, the ways I have been selfish, shallow and lazy — but if I’m honest with myself, the year had its share of success. I got hired out of my temp status, spoke on a panel at a conference, helped lead a project I’m proud of, talked on some podcasts, survived my college reunion. I learned a lot about commitment, complacency and what drives my writing. I spent a lot of time with my family. I watched people I love make incredible art, find cherished partners, move their careers forward, get engaged, become parents. I wrote a couple good songs, played a lot of good shows. My hair got long enough to wear it in a bun most days.

The truth is that I’m pretty scared about the future. Call it cyclical energy or call it the brink of exhaustion but I think things are going to happen in 2019; I think, for better or for worse, I’m going to make them happen. I’m trying to transmute anxiety into excitement for what the year’s bringing but I think it’s ok to be scared, too. Anyway, here’s to 2018, and to the things I felt and saw and did and loved that helped me make it through. 

Andrea Long Chu’s writing

I read “On Liking Women” in January — the kind of article where you start it at your desk and then have to finish it later, and you get home and sit on the couch without even turning the living room lights on and just read and read, breathlessly, until it’s done — and I got hooked and I have read everything ALC has written since. Her work is thoughtful, engaging, provocative, breathtaking, earnest, shady, queer as h*ck. It has made me think about what kind of writer (and person) I want to be and was fodder for some of my favorite conversations I had this year about gender, power, identity and the ultimate self-own. Also, her Twitter is hilarious.

Dried mango

Snack of the year for me, hands down. Though if I’m being honest, green tea kit kats are a serious contender, too -- much tougher to find, though, meaning they can’t quite nab the top snack spot for 2018.

Traveling & open space

I didn’t travel a ton this year but the few trips I took were lovely. In April I visited Seattle, a city I love, for a truly marvelous conference and I saw the water and the mountains. In October I visited Vermont, had a real dream-come-true moment in a field of goats. I visited Sam in Austin and realized that Texas is, indeed, huge. (And affordable!) I visited my family in MA a lot and rode horses a couple times but mostly just sat on the couch with my mom watching re-runs of The Office and making sense of ourselves. It felt nice when I was in motion this year.

Riding my bike

Speaking of motion! I borrowed my sister’s cool bike last year and started riding to work, but then the bike got stolen, which put a big damper on everything. I got a crappy replacement a couple months later and rode it to work every day, nearly, of 2018, and to all sorts of other places. I read Jessica Hopper’s book about Chicago this year and so much of that book takes place on her bike, which inspired me to take things a little more seriously. I’m not an experienced cyclist by any means (truly: most of my bike rides are on two streets in the one-mile radius between my house and my office) but I like what it affords me.

Trying to be a void

that is to say, wearing all black. I know that clothing is how a lot of people express themselves but mostly what I wanted to express this year was: a black hole. By black hole I mostly mean nothingness, and also deflecting the gaze. Incredibly comforting. As a caveat: Mads taught me about the power of navy blue late this year, and I think in 2019 I will try to be the night sky. 

New York

I used to hate NYC for boring reasons but now I don’t, and it defined my year, in many ways — I visited about once a month, for work and for friends and for fun. I nearly always stayed with Mads in Bed-Stuy, which is an excellent situation, although one time I blew a big chunk of a bonus (!) on a fancy hotel room (!!) in Manhattan. (Worth it!) I spoke on a panel, I played my songs in a gallery, I ate bagels with vegan cream cheese, I had bad pizza in a cigar bar, I saw Maggie Nelson give a talk, I watched Duster play two consecutive comeback shows. I had a lot of small moments, too, of bliss and kindness and serendipity, of tortellini soup and espresso tonics, late night talks, doing laps around Bryant Park, walking quietly through galleries. I cried on buses, got freaked out on a plane, had a particularly memorable set of conversations on the Amtrak. I also saw Carly Rae Jepsen!

Playing covers with friends

Ok, yes, seeing Carly Rae at the Turning the Tables event in NYC was magnificent, but more magnificent was being in Gnarly Rae Jepsen, aka the Carly Rae Jepsen cover band I was invited to join around Halloween. Frankly I was just flattered to have been asked, since Lars does a cover band for Halloween every year and they always rip. And Gnarly Rae ripped! I didn’t do a lot of stuff with my own music this year, so it was great to play with a band with pretty much zero pressure and an abundance of good vibes. The Halloween show was one of the happiest moments of my year. Plus this winter I planned a December open mic and so some friends and I decided to do a couple covers — “Silver Springs” by Fleetwood Mac (which Mads sang) and “Dreams” by The Cranberries (which I sang) — which was a little messy and extremely fun.

Christmas cactus

A friend of mine from grad school moved to California after graduating and gave me a bunch of her plants, including a cactus that looked like it was in poor health but I was determined to keep alive for as long as I could. I kept caring for it even though I was convinced it was going to croak any day; turns out I’m just ignorant about what a healthy cactus looks like, because it blossomed just days before my birthday this April. I didn’t even know this cactus could flower, so to have it happen right before I turned 26 made me feel such a deep sense of joy and hope, and connection with the living world, like a true, grounded, healthy Taurus. It bloomed again before Christmas; last week, I realized my grandmother has the exact same plant in her living room.

Writing criticism

I wrote a couple things this year I was especially proud of, and most of them were reviews. (My Turning the Tables essay doesn’t fit in that category but I’m really proud of that, too.) Most of this writing happened in my house where I was alone in my room rubbing my temples and whining softly why is this so hard, why does it have to be so hard but it also felt electric and life-affirming; I heard a podcaster refer to writing as something like “touching the divine” this year and that feels like it, exactly. I think I loved those processes too because they so often involved having really fun, challenging conversations about the art in question with people I admire, and that’s why I got into this game, right? Plus a few conversations I had this year adjacent to these pieces helped me realize that a) criticism is the kind of writing I feel the most drawn to right now; and as we used to say on Tumblr, “not to get fake deep but,” b) the goodness I am searching for in my life/self is a big part of what drives me to write, of what I’m doing in my writing. That helps.

Coffee O merch

My forever favorite coffee shop is Coffee Obsession in Falmouth, not necessarily because they have the best beans in the world or anything but because when I’m there it’s because I am spending time in my favorite place, usually with my family and best friends, etc. Anyway I have recently started to rep them on a regular basis: I got a purple HydroFlask with the Coffee O logo and used it every day this year to bring iced coffee to work, and this summer I bought a big green Coffee O t-shirt that says “LOCAL FLAVAH” on the back (incredible), which is more or less my favorite item of clothing I bought this year. I guess I’m kind of a poseur because I’m a tourist, not a Cape Cod native, but my love for Coffee O is true and real and I’m glad to spread the word.

Etc: Making iced coffee every morning in the Chemex; roséwave and the #Saltypod, both of which I love fiercely; the difference between being liked and being heard, à la Ellen Willis; editing essays; the Fever Ray show at 9:30 Club; wearing glitter in the corners of my eyes; “no one is going to wait for you to ask for permission”; wearing heels to work; the steam room at the W St YMCA; my tarot deck; the Pome newsletter.

[dablesretrospective]

2008 - Dables - Slacker Pop

This album should of never existed. I never planned for it to.   Towards the end of Closet Monster, in the Fall of 2008, I came home from work one day to my trailer that my cousin Kenny and I lived in off of White Horse Road in Greenville, and discovered that we had been robbed. They stole quite a lot of stuff from us.  They got pretty much every single piece of musical equipment I owned as well as lot of other stuff.  The only thing they left was my acoustic guitar (THANK GOD, because it was my first that was a gift from my Mom, and the one I learned how to play on), my drum machine, one effects pedal, and the cassette deck Tascam Portastudio which they didn’t steal because they thought it was just a tape player or something probably.  That was all that was left.  They got 3 guitars, my new Tascam 8 Track recorder, which had about 20 or so songs on it that are all gone now that I had only owned about 2 months, two amplifiers, my PS2, all the games, and tons of my roommate’s stuff. Not only were we robbed, but they TRASHED our place too. They took a tub of butter out of our fridge and spread it throughout the house for some reason.  The couches were smeared with butter. The walls, the floors, the carpet, my bed…Every single drawer was pulled out and its contents scattered. They tipped over our bookshelves and dvd cases and basically ran amuk throughout our house. We both worked third shift at the time, and we figured it was someone who lived nearby that noticed both our cars are gone 5 nights a week, from 11 PM-7AM, so we never recovered any of our stuff.

They didn’t get my laptop though because my room was so messy and it was buried under a pile of dirty clothes. THAT is the reason that Slacker Pop exists. Although I had been recording songs as Dables since 2005, I hadn’t “officially” released anything beyond a few random demos and mix cd’s that I gave out to friends, but nothing that I was comfortable with giving out to the general public just yet. But that didn’t mean that I wasn’t recording and writing like a madman still, trying to make something worthwhile that people outside of my personal group of friends would enjoy.  I was working on what would’ve been the first official Dables release, “Pretending To Be Asleep” as well as “Powerglove Bitchslap”, and I had made considerable progress but wasn’t quite finished when I had been robbed, thus bringing any music production or playing shows to a halt.  I sulked for a while and even considered just letting Dables end because I had been at it for 3 years and had made pretty much no real progress as a solo artist, especially since I no longer had any musical instruments and I was too poor to afford new ones.

But then I figured, since I still have my laptop, I have a ton of songs on it (some not quite finished or just demos) already done, the songs that would’ve composed Pretending To Be Asleep as well as several other albums, and I thought, well I could just make a compilation of sorts and put that out as Dables first album! So that’s what Slacker Pop is.  It is the songs that survived before the robbery, and it was finished and put online as my first official Dables CD, released on Christmas Day and was the third official release on Slackerpop Records, which at the time was still named EES Records (Everything Else Sucks), but obviously this album became the inspiration for the name change of the label that wouldn’t come for another year or two.

The title came to me when I was browsing through a local band from Charleston, Ko’s myspace. The band is now called Company, but they had under their ‘sounds like’ section: “strummy, jangly pop rock by lazy slackers”. Personally I don’t think that describes Company’s sound all that well but it made me realize that my music was essentially pop music by a slacker and for fellow slackers, hence a new genre that I dubbed Slacker Pop. A quick Google search showed there was no band or anything using the term and since it fit my sound so well, I decided to use it.  The cover of the album is a double joke that most people don’t get. Not only was it a stick figure drawing of me at the time, but it was supposed to resemble a lollipop. A slacker guy that looks like a lollipop. A slacker lolliPOP that looks like me and also describes the genre of the album.  I also made the cover just black on white because it used less ink to print out, so it was a little cheaper to make copies which I made roughly 100 of entirely by myself. Printed it at home, cut out the cover art with scissors so it would fit in a jewel case, and burned and labeled the CD-Rs one at a time. It took forever but it gave me merch to give away (I rarely tried to sell my hand made copies, I preferred to just give them away at shows and record stores or wherever for promotion).

I started saving my money, and thankfully since it was the end of the year a big tax return helped me to eventually buy all new guitars and recording equipment, and Dables got right back on track within a handful of months and in a weird way the robbery gave me the motivation to continue to pursue my music.

While I’m at it, I may as well answer the most commonly two asked questions about Dables. First off, it is pronounced “Day-bulls”. If it was different it would have two b’s in it like the actual word dabbles! Secondly, it is a portmanteau of the words “David’s Bullshit”…DAvids BULLShit…Get it? No? Ok…well in early 2005, for the very first time ever, I tried to record a few songs by myself using Sound Recorder, Free Wav Editor, and the truly crappy built-in microphone on my computer monitor. I had about 6 terrible, horribly basic, nonsensical “songs” that I burned on a CD-R. Not knowing what to call it, I just wrote “David’s Bullshit” on the CD with a sharpee. Gave a copy to maybe 3 or 4 friends just for a laugh. It wasn’t until my birthday on Nov 8 later that year (turned 19) that my then-girlfriend bought me my first cassette deck 4-Track Tascam Portastudio. Took me about a year to learn how to use it and by early 2007 I made my first demo called “I Want to Vomit on You” and I needed a name for the project so I thought it would be funny and oh-so-clever to combine the two words I wrote on the last CD-R I made, David’s Bullshit into one and spell it Dables. I made it official by then changing all my online usernames to Dables too lol. I remember really liking that it was a one word band name, both because I thought it could double as a stage-name for me and that it was a single word band name like a lot of my all-time favorite bands such as Ween, Primus, Devo, Gwar, Clutch, Tool, Nirvana…I loved that aspect of it so it stuck. I recorded an absolutely absurd amount of songs on that cassette tape 4-track and made so many demo albums but it wasn’t until Slacker Pop at the end of 2008 that I considered my music good enough for an official release. All the best stuff (and just as much god awful stuff too) from those cassette tapes made between 2005-2008 were eventually released to the public in 2018 as a 4 volume series called The Early Days. I’ll do a write up blog for those albums too eventually.

Either way I consider Slacker Pop the first official David’s Bullshit album...Or you can just call it Dables for short.

-------------------------- Released on December 1, 2008

Slackerpop Records 2008

All music written, performed, and recorded by David Walker Track #2 written by Ween Tracks #10 and #22 Alex Murray plays guitar

1.Welcome To The Record 2.Love Will Conquer All 3.Paint The Town Brown 4.What You Think I’ve Become 5.I’m Sleepy 6.Stardust Memories 7.Celebrity 8.Nightmare City 9.Everyone Loves God 10.Brain Vice 11.In My Dreams 12.Brown Eyed Angel 13.Yeah Ok 14.Livin’ in A Dream 15.Nothing Should Ever Be A Big Deal 16.I Still Love You 17.Szandora 18.Half Off Jesus Face 19.You Must First Understand Pain 20.Nothin’ But The House Rent 21.Who Are You? 22.Vodka Jam

Download this album for free at:

https://dables.bandcamp.com/album/slacker-pop

[andyl394]

Heya! I saw that you are not taking requests at the moment and I guess is because you're blocked? So I have an solution! I luv your writing and the way you describe everything, so, how do you think the Avenger's rooms would be? You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but I ACTUALLY think this will help you. Ilysm 💗

I mean, I can try, can’t promise something amazing or that I’ll do all of the Avengers, but anyway, thank you for the help

The Winter Soldier 

Bucky’s room was… messy. There was no other way to explain it than to say that it was a huge war zone. 

He had spent so many years being forced to have absolutely nothing, to be as tidy as he could, not being able to own anything, not being allowed to be anything less than a robot, a weapon. 

But now, he could do anything! He could buy anything. A purple and glittery stuffed octopus with a top hat? HELL YES. Some random light shaped like a dinosaur? HE NEEDS THAT. An out of season skeleton wearing a Christmas bennie that giggled every time someone got into his room? IT WILL HELP HIM KNOW IF SOMEONE IS INVADING HIS ROOM.

You would laugh every time you entered his room, it was always so random and funny, it was what Wanda called “extra”. 

But messy doesn’t mean the same as dirty, Bucky’s room always smelled like cinnamon, mint, chocolate and every scented candle he could find; he liked to light them all at the same time and cuddle with you in the middle of his seashell shaped bed.

Captain America

Now, if Bucky was messy, Steve was ten times worst. It’s not that he didn’t take care of his room, he just liked to say that “things are in their perfect place”, and was obviously a lie. He just didn’t like to admit that he was too lazy to do his bed or take his clothes off the floor, his table was the worst part for you. 

There were plates, mugs, papers, unfinished draws, books, and paint everywhere. Every time you entered his room, you’d caught yourself picking all of the pens and brushes off the ground before he stepped on them and complained the whole week that he needed new art supplies. 

You could understand why he didn’t care about keeping his room tidy; Steve always had to be Mr. Perfect for everyone. He was The Captain America! Kids saw him as a role model, his image was supposed to be of someone, well, perfect. But he wasn’t. He made mistakes and cursed and didn’t wash the damn dishes, he was human and he could be allowed to do some wrongs.

But since you could not stand being in his room and he was too lazy to take out everything from his bed, you two always sleep and pass the time in your room AS LONG AS HE DIDN’T TAKE ANYTHING FROM HIS PILE OF MESS TO IT.

Thor Odinson

There wasn’t much to talk about Thor’s room. He never was at the Tower, and when he was, he wouldn’t take his time to decorate it. He’d simply leave it be and rather basically share your room with you. 

Thor liked the way you decorated it, everything there reminded of you. 

However, if we are talking about his room from Asgard, you could say it was a little bit, uh, weird. 

It was this strange mix of Midgard and Asgard, silly wacky wobbles of The Avengers, some gold and copper props you couldn’t quite figure out what was it for, pictures of you in weird flowery portraits and like that it went. 

The Black Widow

Nat’s room was incredibly hers but at the same time, it wasn’t. 

Everything was in a cold color, it was the tidiest room of the tower, minimal decoration and a lot of weapons. 

But you knew your girlfriend, you could see in every spot something she loved but only seemed to be a random paint or something only to complement the room. 

You knew that the books were the ones she used to read before every mission to calm herself down, you knew that the colors reminded her of her home before the red room. The room itself was for Natasha. She liked how it was calm and cool, and it would get even better with the small pictures of you next to her bed. 

[toradh]

Tagged by @soymilkheaven! …I don’t know why everything takes me at least three days that usually should take me like one afternoon. Why are y’ll running around with christmas icons? Should I do that, too?? Is christmas Edna already claimed?

ANYWAY, Meme rules: Answer 30 questions and tag 20 people you’d like to know better. …I’m pretty sure I’ve answered these already. But okay.


1. Nicknames: Franzi for RL friends, but use whatever pseudonym you want to call me online.

2. Gender: female

3. Zodiac Sign: libra, but I don’t act like it

4. Height: 168cm (that’s exactly German female average size)

5. Current Time: 2pm something

6. Birthday: October 21

7. Favourite Bands: Oh boy. That question is a barrel without bottom. Guess my top top top all time favs (without any specific order) are still Seventh Wonder, Kamelot, Dead Can Dance, Sonata Arctica, Avantasia, Anaria and Van Canto. Also Nightwish, if Floor is on vocals. I have a very very long list of honourable mentions that I listen to just as often when I’m in the mood.

8. Favourite Solo Artists: If Ayreon counts than hands down Ayreon. Otherwise I’ll cheat and say Arjen Anthony Lucassen trollolol. Also Lindsey Stirling.

9. Song Stuck in My Head: no particular one at the moment

10. Last Movie I Watched: I don’t even remember! I still want to watch Thor: Ragnarok and of course the new Star Wars this year. Wait, “this year” is less than a month. Shit.

11. Last Show I Watched: I don’t watch shows unless my friends put me in front of one

12. When Did I Create My Blog?: Beginning of 2013.

13. What Do I Post On My Blog?: Reblogs of my art from my art blog, random funny things, some art-related things, and life rants.

14. Last Thing I Googled: reference pictures for people sitting…

15. Other Blogs: at one point I opted to have an art only blog which only consists of my art, scribbles, and occasionally shameless self-promotion and announcements; it’s @toradhart (I’m so creative). And then of course there is the infamous @applegelstore which has now more followers than the main blog (I’m feeling you peeps, though. I kinda like it, too). It was actually supposed to be a general JRPG blog, but somehow it’s 49% doodle shitposts, 1% actual artistic fanart maybe, 40% whining about my miserable gacha luck in mobile games while crying how amazing the scenario writing in Rays is, and 10% reblogs of general fangirl things. Most likely to be either Tales of Zestiria or Destiny.

16. Do You Get Asks?: very rarely.

17. Why Did You Choose Your Url?: it had been my internet pseudonym ever since I had joined deviantART back in school, and I never bothered to think of a new one. Although I have to admit I’m growing kinda fond of the Owlily thing, but I used it exclusively for fun stuff so far, haha.

18. Last Thing I Ate: an apple. That’s how I usually finish my meals.

19. How Many Pillows: three.

20. Favourite Colours: blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue (I also like some violets and greens, though)

21. Favourite Tag To Use: I don’t really have one? I mean I came up with an, uhm, organisational system by now. My own scribbles and art are tagged “art”, other people’s art is “not my art“. Duh. As for the appelgelstore, that got a slightly more creative art tag (applegelartstore), other people’s fanart is “other fine people’s art”, and I tag my AUs, although not very creatively. Low-key tempted to call the Little Mermaid crossover “the AU in which Meebo can swim”. Crying that I have to make a choice which units I hoard stones for in ToLink is “ToLink whine tag”, and crying that I still don’t have Sorey’s MA in Rays although I swear to God every single one of my mutuals has and that’s only the beginning of my problems is “Tales of the Rays whine tag”. JUST IN CASE SOMEBODY DIDN’T GET BEHIND THE TAGGING SYSTEM. My favourite tags are the screams of CUTE and OMG that I get :,D

22. Lucky Number: I don’t have any lucky numbers…

23. Instruments: I never learned one and don’t have any time whatsoever to do it now, sadly. I do take singing lessons, however. I started them almost three years ago and I don’t intend to quit anytime soon.

24. What Am I Wearing: the same clothes I wore yesterday because they aren’t actually dirty; unfortunately, they still smell of smoke and that’s icky, so I guess tomorrow will be laundry day…

25. Last Thing I Wrote: …an email to a potential client *long exasperated sigh*

26. Dream Job: I’d love to continue freelancing, although I doubt it’ll work. I almost don’t care anymore with what, as long as it’s art. I mean I’d prefer private commissions like via Patreon, but the field I actually always liked most would be character design with a slice of general visual development like colour keys and enviroment concept art, but I’m always too lazy for the latter, haha.

27. Dream Trip: I’m not one for travelling, but Iceland, Canada, or Mayan ruins all sound cool. Also that cats and owls cafe in Osaka I guess

28. Favourite Food: chocolate, ice cream, pumpkin pie.

29. Nationality: German

30. Favourite Song Right Now: if I had one stuck in my head right now, that’d be my current favourite. I’ll have to re-direct you to my all time favourites. However, this is probably as a good a time as any to say that it’s almost 2018 and I’m still not over White Light. That goddamn freaking amazing guitar riff. And I usually don’t even like guitar riffs, I usually think they should be replaced by violin riffs. BUT THIS FREAKING GUITAR RIFF ARGH. I was sure I’d love Tales of Zestiria when I first watched the opening, and I WAS EERILY RIGHT

…I’m not tagging 20 people. I tag all of my followers who haven’t been tagged yet.

[justalittlebluetiefling]

Chapter 56: Sometimes I Can’t See Myself

Rating: T Fandom: The 100 Pairing: Bellamy x Clarke Chapter: 56/68 Word Count: 2688 Words

Chapter Summary: The one where Clarke decides to paint a friend.

Also on AO3;  Start from the beginning on AO3

As far as roommates went, Raven and Octavia were amazing, if a little absent. Clarke supposed she would have seemed absent as well if they were home much. She spent most of her free time in her studio, if she had any. Not only was she piled under mountains of med school applications, but there was another exhibition coming up for the art department and the owner of the art gallery she worked at two nights a week saw her sketchbook and offered to showcase a couple of her pieces. To top it off, she kind of missed her mom, but she was still so angry. Bellamy said it all showed in her work.

The desk in the corner of the room that had been meant for drawing was usually where Bellamy spent his time. Most of the time, he graded papers or went over notes from his classes. If he finished up, he’d steal one of her books to read. After a few weeks of his constant presence, she ordered an engraved nameplate for the desk. When he walked in the first day after it arrive, he grinned at her until she started to blush furiously. But, she liked his company and she wasn’t ashamed of that.

While she wasn’t ashamed of enjoying his company, she was constantly conflicted over all of these feelings she had whenever he looked at her or texted her or showed up unannounced with takeout and they would lose track of time sitting on the floor talking about nothing. It was more difficult all of the time to dismiss her feelings, but she kept pushing them down. Not only was he her best friend’s brother, but he was her best friend. He was her family. Whatever misguided notion her brain or heart was trying to trick her with wouldn’t work.

In spite of her internal conflict, he was a fantastic subject for her art. It was one of the reasons she had a candid shot from their beach trip taped on a stand next to her easel. Instead of using a brush, she had decided to dunk her hands into the bucket of paint and run them along the canvas. The first lines were messy and broken, but as she progressed, she could tell it was going to be one of her favorite pieces.

“Hey Princess. You’re home alone again?”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when Bellamy poked his head in the room. Octavia was never home before nine, between the choreography for the senior recital and the dance team, and Raven’s not-so-new-anymore job had her working nights three times a week. It still felt like he caught her undressed. Thankfully, it wasn’t easy to interpret the content on the canvas yet, but it was easy to yank the picture down and shove it in her pocket. She only felt a brief moment of regret as she felt the paint on her hand smear across her back.

Clarke forced a grin onto her face. “Hey hey. You know me. Incredibly lazy and no life ambitions to keep me occupied.”

He chuckled under his breath and set his bag down next to the desk. “O said you guys have some leftover lasagna. You mind if I snag some?”

“Our food is your food.”

“You’re the best.” His shoulders slumped with relief. “I haven’t had anything since breakfast. Cafeteria food is the worst.”

When he slipped out through the door again, she dipped her finger back into the bucket to finish a line she had been working on before. It would be incredibly embarrassing if he figured out what she was painting, but she had been in a great flow before. She was still trying to decide what to do when he walked back in, plate piled almost unnecessarily high, already eating. Instead of sitting down, he moved behind her to see her work.

“What’s this one?”

Clarke felt her face start to heat up. “A profile shot of someone.”

“Sunset in the background?”

“Sunrise, I think. I had the colors, so it seemed right.”

He nudged her wrist with his elbow. “Do I need to buy you another set of brushes?”

She turned to face him, fighting the urge to put her hands on her hips. “I’m trying something new with the lines. I wanted it to be… chaotic and… unique.”

“It’s certainly unique.” He smiled at her before he took another bite of food.

“I left my art history book over there for you.” His eyes went wide and her heart did a little skip as he turned away. “Wait!” He turned back and tilted his head at her. Before she could stop herself, she reached out and poked him on the nose with her index finger.

“Did you just…. Did you just boop my nose? With paint on your hands?”

Clarke shrugged. “I’m in a booping mood?”

Bellamy narrowed his eyes at her. “If I wasn’t so hungry right now, you’d be so dead.”

“Plus, I’m working on a new painting and I’d kill you if you messed it up.”

He rolled his eyes and settled in at the desk. Once she realized he was completely engrossed with both the food and the book in his lap, she decided it was better to have him in the room as a model. Soon, she was equally engrossed in her own work.

In a weird way, it almost turned out to be easier to paint him with her hands than with a brush. It was easier to get his hair right. Her fingers were able to make a really nice dusting of freckles along his cheekbone. It gave her more control even while it felt risky. It was the right mood for the painting. The man sitting in front of her was the embodiment of risk. At least, she had felt that at one point. Even though he had calmed down over the past three years, every time she looked at him, she felt like she was jumping out of an airplane.

It was clearly Bellamy when she was finally finished. Or at least, Clarke thought it was obvious. Instead of the usual rush of relief she felt when she finished something, she felt a minor wave of panic. It eased a bit when she saw he was entrenched in grading some math tests. She wiped her hands on a towel as best as she could before pulling a few things out of the closet. When she had a clear space on the floor, she set up the table easel he had bought her for Christmas the year before and moved the painting from the room to the closet. That got his attention, but she waved him off and closed the door.

Bellamy chuckled. “I didn’t realize paintings went into the closet to dry.”

Clarke scoffed. When she turned around, he was packing papers back into his bag. “I don’t know if this one is finished yet.”

“So I can’t see what you’ve done so far?”

“Not yet.” She could feel her face heating up again. “I’ll show you when it’s done. I promise.” And she would. It was almost a promise to herself as much as a promise to him. At least the painting might start a conversation she didn’t know how to on her own.

Bellamy set his stuff to the side of the desk again before he met her at the easel. “Need any help cleaning up?”

She folded the easel and moved it back to the side of the room. “No, I’m good. I thought you’d have way more tests to grade than that.”

He didn’t respond at first. All she could hear were footsteps as she set the easel against the wall. “I’ll finish them later,” Bellamy said from right behind her.

Clarke jumped and spun around. He grinned and wiped his hand on her face, which caught her off guard again. It took her a moment to recover and realize that his hand was covered in orange paint. “Oh, Bellamy, you did not just—”

Her sentence was cut short when he brought up his other hand and wiped blue paint across the other side of her face. His eyes were practically dancing with amusement. “I did too just.”

She laughed and ran back toward the paint to dunk her hands again. Bellamy was close behind. He managed to grab her around the waist with his left arm while dunking his right hand in the bucket. She slipped out of his grip only to trip on his foot and grab onto his shoulders for support.

All amusement dropped from his features, replaced by concern. “You okay, Princess?”

“Oh, I’m just fine.” Clarke grinned, wiped her hand on his neck, and ran.

The room wasn’t large and they had to avoid the desk and his school stuff. There was nowhere to hide, so the fight didn’t last too long. By the time they managed to call an actual truce (because the first truce had been a huge lie), they were laying in the middle of the room side by side, breathless from laughter. It would have been hard to find an uncovered inch of their skin.

“I’ll buy you a new shirt,” Clarke said once she caught her breath. “Maybe some new jeans, too. Your clothes are basically ruined.”

“These clothes were on their way out anyway.” He nudged her with his knee. “And I started it,” he started to say, but then he laughed. “Wait a minute. I did not. You started it.”

“I know,” she said through renewed laughter. “That’s why I offered.”

“God, I needed this.”

Clarke let her head drop to look at him and her laughter stuck in her throat. His hand rested dangerously close to her hip and her heart was suddenly out of control in her chest. For no reason. “What did you need?”

“To unwind. Relax a little. Being stuck in middle school again is killing me.”

“Why? O said you always had a ton of friends in school.”

“In high school.” He turned his head to look at her and poked her on the nose. “If you tell anyone what I’m about to say, I will end you.”

Clarke crossed her heart solemnly. “Obviously.”

Bellamy snorted, but looked up at the ceiling again. “High school? It was easy. I made friends on the soccer team and I did pretty well in classes, so I got along with almost everyone. But middle school.” He shuddered. “Middle school. I was chubby and awkward and I didn’t know how to talk to anyone. I got into a lot of fights. I mean, normal, horrible middle school experience, but being back there is a form of torture. People who end up teaching middle school are either insane or insanely good people.”

“Oh, so obviously not you.”

He glared at her, but it was betrayed by a faint smile. “What about you?”

“Me?” Clarke sighed. “You already know my awkward school stories thanks to Wells.”

“Yeah, blah blah. You think you were awkward. You partied all the time, until….”He trailed off for a moment and frowned apologetically. “Anyway, everyone loved you. Don’t give me that look. I’ve heard the stories, remember? Besides, that’s not what I was asking about.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “You were really into that painting earlier. Is it stress or were you painting something naked?”

Clarke half laughed with panic. “I don’t paint naked…. I mean, I don’t paint naked people when it’s not for class. Besides, it’s way easier to draw naked people.”

Bellamy chuckled and elbowed her again. “What was all the hyper-focus for, then? You were a little more intense than usual.”

“You think I’m intense?!” She gasped with mock-affront and then sighed dramatically.

“You know you’re intense. Now tell me.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, but she did know she was intense. And he knew that things in her life were a little crazy. She rolled away from him onto her stomach in an attempt to let a little sanity rush through her brain, but he rolled onto his stomach too, closing the distance between them again.

“I can tell you want to talk about it.”

Clarke sighed and glared at him. “Being your friend is the worst.”

“I know.” He grinned. “Now tell me.”

“Fine.” She drummed her fingers on the floor and scrunched her nose up in spite of herself. “I’m almost done with my med school applications.”

“Already?!”

She bumped him with her shoulder. “Yeah, I only have a couple essays left.”

“Which will be awesome.”

“Yeah, duh.”

“That’s great, Clarke.”

“I guess. It’s…. I’m kind of freaking out. Turning them in makes it serious and what if I don’t really want to be a doctor?”

Bellamy frowned and moved to a seated position. “Do you want to be a doctor?”

“Well, yeah, but—” His hand settled on her shoulder and it shocked Clarke into silence.

“You’re never going to stop drawing. Or painting. Not even if you go to med school.”

“There’s no way you can know that I’ll still have time for it.”

“Come on, it’s a part of you. It’s in your blood.” He plucked her tank top strap. “And it’s drying all over your clothes.”

“Shut up.” Clarke blushed and pushed his hand away. “I’m going to change.”

She started to push herself up and he grabbed her arm to stop her. “No way. Not fair. You have clean clothes here.”

“I still have stuff that will fit you, you know.” Bellamy opened his mouth to be snarky, she could see it in his eyes, so she pushed him. “Don’t even start. You wouldn’t fit in Lexa’s old clothes.”

“I’d look good.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and tried to stand again, but he yanked on her hand to stop her from standing.

“Say I’d look good, Clarke.”

“You’d look good in anything.”

“Okay. Let’s go change.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Do we get to shower first? I won’t look, I promise.”

Clarke didn’t have time to respond. He jumped up and pulled her up with him, causing her to stumble into his chest. She pushed herself away quickly and pretended to fix her hair. “Don’t be an ass. You can use O’s bathroom if you want to shower.”

“I figured,” he said with a lopsided grin. “I just like seeing you blush.”

Clarke stared after him as he walked away, the air in front of her cool with his sudden absence. He paused at the door to look back.

“Come on. I need to get this stuff out of my hair and we need to bake some cookies so we can delve deeper into your fear of med school.”

The thought of cookies helped ground her a bit, but she would have to make him promise it would be a clean process. They couldn’t have a repeat of the paint incident in the kitchen. She didn’t want to have to take a second shower to wash cookie dough out of her hair.

As soon as Clarke closed the door to the studio behind her, the front door opened. Octavia and Lincoln stopped dead in the doorway. Lincoln was stuck in silence as he continued to take in their appearance and O burst into laughter.

“I’m going to use your shower, O.” Bellamy ignored them and ran up the stairs.

Octavia rolled her eyes and kicked off her shoes before heading into the kitchen, but Lincoln stayed. Clarke was a little uncomfortable with the way he looked at her and then chuckled when they heard the shower start upstairs.

Lincoln grinned at her. “Is there an art project I’m missing out on?”

“You know Bellamy,” Clarke said, aiming for casual. “He thinks it’s fun to fuck with my paint.”

“I’m sure that’s what he thinks is fun. I mean, that’s what the handprint on your hip tells me. That he thinks it’s fun.”

Clarke studied him for a moment, but he kept that stupid smile on his face. She scoffed before starting up the stairs. “Shut up, Lincoln.”

[lucaswolcott-blog]

Task #1: The Survey

« ° B A S I C S ;

name ? Lucas Andres Wolcott 

nickname ? Luke (only at home)

when’s your birthday ?  27 December 1995

birth place ? Ft Lauderdale, FL (And then moved immediately to Tampa)

age ? Twenty-two

sexuality ? Demisexual panromantic

preferred pronouns ? He/him

which grade are you in ? Junior/Third Year

is your current hair colour your natural hair color ? if not, what is your natural hair colour ? It is my natural hair color.

eye colour ? Brown

height ? 5 ft. 10 in.

what are you complimented on most ( physically & persona-wise ) ? I’m most complimented on my hair and chill personality.

do you have any tattoos or piercings ? none.

if not, would you like one/some ? I want a few tattoos, but I would like to draw them out myself. Haven’t decided what yet.

what do you do for fun ? Mostly sleep or draw. I also binge watch whatever show catches my attention or listen to music.

what’s your preferred clothing style ? Comfortable. I prefer shorts and t-shirts, but as it gets colder, I’ll switch to jeans and layers.

left handed or right handed ? Left handed

when free, people will most likely find you … ( place ) In my room napping.

« ° P E R S O N A ;

how would you describe yourself in five words ? Relaxed, creative, handsome, friendly, and just a little bit lazy.

are you a flirtatious person ? I mean, not really, no.

do consider yourself unique ? Not many people can fall asleep anywhere at anytime, so I think that’s pretty unique.

are you talkative or rather shy ? Neither. I talk when talked to.

biggest dream ? I would love to be able to make a living off of selling my work, but for now, I’m dreaming about being an illustrator for children’s books. That’d be fun and a good way to get my name out.

are you good at keeping secrets ? I’d like to think so. I mean, I usually forget secrets told to me after, like, a few weeks. However, I’ve not told.

are you happy ? I think so, yeah.

do you consider yourself book-smart or street-smart ? Street smart.

main character trait ? People usually comment first on something about how calm I am. I don’t know, it’s weird to talk about myself.

worst habit ? Oh, messing with my hair. It takes awhile to tame the bedhead, but then while I’m working on my art, I just mess it up again.

biggest pet peeve ? Loud crunching in quiet rooms or during lectures.

if your life would have a title song, what would it be ? “Tender” by Blur is pretty chill. 

who do your friends compare you to ? Sleepy! From Snow White. Oh! Or the Dormouse from Alice in Wonderland. Lots of Disney.

life motto ?  “Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” - Oscar Wilde. I had a huge Wilde phase when we read his work, so I kind of scoured the web for stuff he said.

« ° L O V E ;

are you in love ? Not really, no. Love my friends. Love my family. Absolutely love my cat. Don’t have a romantic love for anyone though.

do you have a crush ? Not at the moment.

celebrity crush ? Is it bad the first person that came to mind was Ewan Mc/Gregor? Loved him as Obi Wan. Emma Wat/son is very beautiful too.

do you believe in love at first sight ? I believe it can happen for some people. Not something I think would happen to me.

thoughts about marriage ? Right now? Nah, I’m not ready. I think it could be in my future but it has to be someone special.

what does your ideal partner look like ( inside and out ) ? I want someone who is my best friend first and foremost. They have to be able to take things slow and be understanding. I’ve not really thought much about my ideal partner’s appearance though.

would you consider yourself a flirt ? I’ve accidentally done it a few times, but I wouldn’t say I would ever do it on purpose.

cuddling or making out ? Cuddling is very underappreciated.

when i was … 15 i had my first kiss and it was … Awkward.

make out song ? I suppose something very... Energetic? Or something that’s like trippy. No in between on that one.

turn ons/offs ? Listen, I’ll let you in on a secret. I’m a virgin. This is like... The secrets that have yet to be unlocked. I can tell you nail biting is a turn off already though just because of the sound. 

best love song ever ? Totally “Never Gonna Give You Up” by Rick Astley. I’ll just say “Tender” again

dumper or the dumped one ? I’ve only dated twice and both times I was the dumper.

ever experienced heartbreak ? Yeah, but it’s more personal than I’d like to share.

« ° T H I S OR T H A T ;

tea or coffee ? Tea. There’s some relaxing tea out there.

frozen yoghurt or ice cream ? Ice cream

chocolat or vanilla ? Chocolate

shower or bath ? Shower

movies or books ? Movies

comedy or adventure movie ? Comedy

day or night ? Night

black&white or color ? Color.

chinese or italian ? Ooh, tough. Chinese.

hugs or kisses ? Hugs

spring or fall ? Fall

tattoos or piercings ? Tattoos

money or fame ? Money for the financial security. Or, fame to be known and share with the world what you love. Also, you can be famous for good deeds. I’ll take fame

romantic cuddles or hot sex ? Romantic cuddles. Again, cuddles are underappreciated.

fair or theme park ? Theme park.

love or lust ? Love

« ° F A V O R I T E S ;

song lyrics ? “When the days they seem to fall through you, well, just let them go.”

song ? “Under the Bridge”

quote ? I’m just going to point to that Oscar Wilde quote again. Or, the one where he was, like, challenging the wallpaper to a fight to the death.

actor ? Tom Hanks

actress ? Julie Andrews

movie ? Scott Pilgrim vs The World is pretty great.

book ? Can’t go wrong with The Lord of the Rings.

memory ? Definitely when my parents took my brother and I to Chicago one Christmas, and we got to see snow for, like, the first time ever. 

joke ? We all know six is afraid of seven because seven ate nine. But why did seven eat nine? Because you need three squared meals a day! Ever since I was told the rest of the joke, it just became my favorite.

guilty pleasure ? There’s this makeup show called FaceOff, and I love watching it for the cool designs. 

« ° A  F E W  S I T U A T I O N S ;

how would your character react if…

if they walk into the shower and see a huge spider sitting right in the middle of it ? He’d talk to the spider. Then, he’d try to ease the spider out of the shower because “Don’t want you to drown, little guy.” And, once the spider was clear, he’d take his shower.

they found out they won the lottery ? First thing he’s doing is pinching himself to make sure he’s not dreaming and that he didn’t fall asleep again. Second thing, he’s calling his parents. Then, he’d tell a select few friends.

if they find a someone’s wallet on the floor which holds lots of cash ? He’d check the ID and then if he doesn’t see the person, he’d turn it in to the nearest store or place that can take it. If he’s high at all, he’s taking some of the cash or even possibly setting it right back on the ground.

they hear a knock on their door and when they say “enter” their ex walks in ? Depends on which ex, but it’d be safe to assume he’d hug her and try to carry on a normal and calm conversation, even if with one of them, he’d be wondering how she found him.

if their house was on fire and they had 60 seconds to leave ? what 5 things would they take with them ? If it’s the frat house, his phone, wallet, sketchbook, picture of his family, and laptop. If it’s his home-home, his cat, sketchbook, phone, wallet, and then he’d grab whichever family member he passed by the arm.

« ° O V E R - A L L ;

when was the last time you tried something new ? Well, I tried working with a new medium in class recently. I don’t think I like carving much.

would you ever give up on your life if you could save someone else’s with it ? I mean, not to be selfish, but it depends on the person. For a kid, absolutely. For family, positively. Strangers... Not so much.

are you happy with yourself ? If I’m honest, no.

what chances do you wish you had taken ? I wish I had applied to bigger art schools. Don’t get me wrong, I love where I am, but I wish I’d seen if I could have gotten in.

what’s the first thing you think when you see yourself in the mirror ? “Holy shit that awful bedhead” or “God I’m still tired.”