#this is in my queue I hope I don’t hate it when it posts but it’s only been a week so probably not

[darehearts]

being  mains  &  exclusives  with  darehearts  :  a  guide.

hello  beloved  crew    !    i  wanted  to  make  a  little  psa  on  how  these  two  concepts  work  on  my  blog  and  to  inform  you  all  that  i  am  always  open  to  discussing  either  option.  i  intend  to  have  lower  activity  for  the  rest  of  the  year,  so  my  mains  &  exclusives  will  receive  more  emphasis  as  if  they  weren’t  already.

being  exclusives    :    this  means  we’re  the  only  versions  of  our  respective  characters  that  we  interact  with.  of  course  this  doesn’t  exactly  work  for  ocs  as  they’re  unique,  but  it  could  still  be  practiced  from  my  partner’s  end  (  and  my  end  by  me  pampering  you  24/7  ).  i  bump  up  my  exclusives’  replies  on  a  daily  basis  monday  through  friday.  every,  single,  day.  if  i  have  a  reply  completed  for  you  and  it’s  in  the  queue,  i  check  and  bump  up  my  exclusives  for  the  following  day  (  or  days  if  there  are  multiple  replies  present  ).  you’re  guaranteed  to  get  multiple  replies  a  week  as  long  as  i  have  something  completed  in  the  queue  for  you.  bear  in  mind  that  i  don’t  write  romantic  ships  with  anyone  besides  my  gf,  and  i  had  bad  experiences  in  the  past  when  people  wanted  to  be  exclusives  with  me  but  then  ditched  me  immediately  when  another  version  of  my  muse  joined  the  rpc  that  they  could  ship  with.  for  me  to  consider  exclusives,  we  need  to  have  interacted  ooc  and  be  friends,  and  have  a  certain  amount  of  trust  and  writing  done  already.  i’m  open  to  consider  exclusivity  after  being  mains  for  a  few  months.

being  mains    :    you  are  my  go  to  version  of  your  muse  if  there  is  any  plot  i  want  to  explore  or  i  want  to  interact  with  them,  but  of  course  it  doesn’t  limit  me  from  interacting  with  other  versions  of  your  character.  again,  this  works  for  ocs  only  in  the  sense  you  get  priority  when  it  comes  to  interactions  and  i’ll  be  going  to  you  if  i  want  to  explore  a  plot.  i  do  bump  up  my  mains  in  my  queue  monday  through  friday  as  well,  but  after  my  exclusives.  my  replies  typically  won’t  be  almost  daily,  but  i  make  sure  that  my  mains  get  bumped  up  a  few  days  a week even  if  not  every  single  day.  if  i  owe  you  something,  you’re  likely  to  get  it  back  in  a  few  days  or  week(s)  depending  on  the  traffic  with  my  exclusives.

i  reserve  weekends  for  new  interactions  only.  i  no  longer  post  mains  or  exclusive  calls  so  if  you  have  interest  in  either,  you’ll  need  to  directly  reach  out  to  me.  to  put  it  bluntly,  if  the  idea  of  reaching  out  to  me  is  uncomfortable,  then  that  means  we  shouldn’t  be  mains  or  exclusives  anyway.    i’m  hoping  to  reach  out  to  a  few  people  myself  in  the  following  days  and  see  if  they’re  interested.  if we become mains or exclusives, i will expect you to prioritize my replies for you in a similar way although if it doesn't have to be the same way. i’d  like  to  add  4-5  more  beloveds  on  there  !  people  sometimes  have  different  interpretations  of  what  it  means  to  be  mains  or  exclusives  and  that’s  fine  too  !  it  doesn’t  mean  i’ll  hate  you  if  we’re  not  compatible  or  that  i  won’t  write  with  you  !  i  practice  mains  and  exclusives  because  i’m  a  full  time  working  adult  with  a  lot  going  on  and  i  can  only  spare  limited  time  and  energy.  i  want  to  make  sure  i  use  that  for  people  who  are  equally  interested  in  interactions.

[seagull-scribbles]

Happy Ides of March

[rainbowpufflez]

Fine, I’ll admit that I like Lysandre 😔

[kakushino]

Cold?

Rengoku Kyojuro x GN! Reader

Christmas present for dear @kanao-tsuyuri-art inspired by this post.

Tags: fluff Word count: 0,6k

Masterlist

AN: It may be a early, but I hope this makes you smile and warms you a little in these cold times.

Kyojuro could be a dense man at times. For all his book-smarts, his ability to pick up on hints fluctuated around level 0, and it always took you pointing out something you wanted him to notice for him to actually take note of it. 

You getting a new outfit was always met with his falcon-like stare, an absent-minded smile and a “Did you get a new haircut?” He always knew something was off, but he never picked up on the right thing.

Which made it all the more surprising he noticed your shivering and correctly guessed the source.

Kyojuro was also getting better at using his ‘inside voice’ though he forgot at times. Like now. “Are you cold, my love?!” 

“Yes, a little.” You disliked the cold but you could hardly pass up the opportunity to go to the Christmas market with your boyfriend. You were both so busy at times it was hard to schedule dates; of course you would brave the Arctic to be with your Kyojuro, even if you hated the temperatures.

His smile diminished - a winter sun compared to his usual summer cheer. He didn’t hesitate, however, and quickly pulled off his right knitted glove, offering it to you. The grateful smile lighting up your beautiful face was his reward. 

Kyojuro always ran a little hotter than you, so he was sure the garment would warm your right hand. He took your left in his right, bringing it closer to his face as he intertwined your fingers. “Worry not! What kind of partner would I be if I didn’t warm you up!” 

His searing hot lips kissed your icy fingertips, making blood rush to your cheeks even more than before - this time not from the cold. “A terrible one to be sure,” you teased lightly, burying your face in your scarf to hide your shy smile.

“Well, at least you know what kind of wish you don’t need then!” Kyojuro puffed up his chest. “I promise to be the best partner you’ve ever had!” His passionate declaration prompted a slew of giggles from you. He was so silly, yet so sweet.

You had already done your shopping, gotten some of the mulled wine, and tasted the amazing food served at your local Christmas market. The last item on Kyojuro’s imaginary itinerary was wishing on the bell.

It wasn’t a custom native to either of your country of origin, but the market offered the option this year. You could make a wish and ring the bell to make it come true before the New Year.

Kyojuro dragged you criss-cross through the entire square to find it. It was a bell hung above a small stool, there was a rope hanging from the middle connected to the clapper to ring it once you made your wish. There was no queue at the moment, though you remembered seeing one when you came to the markets.

“Come on! Time to make a wish, my love!” His grin lit up the square more than the Christmas tree lights as he took all your bags and urged you forward.

With a wide smile at his antics, you stepped on the stool to reach the rope and made your wish, the clanging of the bell sounding somewhat sweet, and you believed, right then and there under your love’s fiery gaze, that your wish would come true.

The moment passed, and it was Kyojuro’s turn.

He might be the one who represented a flame, but it was your smile, your charm, and your love that set his heart ablaze as he walked towards the bell. The small box he kept in his pocket burned through his clothes as he fervently wished:

May my love say ‘yes’.

dividers made by the amazing @benkeibear

Network: @enchantedforest-network

[oweninadaydream]

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 || 𝐂𝐇.𝟏

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Hangman is the certified ladies' man and everyone thinks they can read him like a book, but what neither the Dagger Squad nor anyone else can even begin to imagine is where the hell Jake has been going every Saturday night for the last few months…

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x male!character

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 : mentions of alcohol, some making out but nothing too smutty, emotional distress lmao, age gap relationship (27-35), some religious trauma, self-deprecating thoughts, post Top Gun : Maverick, the Dagger squad is stationed together.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2k

𝐚/𝐧 : Gif by @tay-swifts , M/N (Male Name). Hello beautiful people!!! I'm so exited about posting this project I've been working on for a while. I just wanted to say that since it's my first time writing for Jake this might be a bit OC Jake but I do hope I got it right hehe. Enjoy the fic and stay tuned for the next parts!!!

It was well after midnight when Jake arrived at the club’s entrance. The throbbing bass emanating from inside made the whole building shake, making his mind wonder what it would be like to live on top of such an obnoxiously loud place, contrasting with the quietness of the accommodations the Navy offered. The reflection of the neon sign reading  “Mon Ange” turned his natural olive-toned skin into a vivid dark azure that matched perfectly with the baby blue in his eyes. The smokers (all with stamps on their hands) were all gathered some feet away from the door to get back in after dragging a final puff from their cigarettes. The queue was not very long, mainly because everyone who was meant to be there had arrived way earlier than him. He reprimanded himself for getting there so late ; in less than two hours the nightclub would shut its doors and Jake would feel like he wasted four hours of his life for nothing. Well, his journey would not be in vain if he caught a glimpse of- 

“Jake”

This was L.A, a city 118 miles away from the Marine Corps Air Station located in Miramar, which is a two-hour long drive away from everything he knows. He had to remind himself of those facts to avoid spiraling  at the sound of his name in such a place; he hated how his body kept reacting to these kinds of situations, but not even a skilled lieutenant like himself could take the reins of these unnamed emotions that coursed through his entire being.

"What are you doing here by the door? I was worrying about you not showing up today, I was just about to send a search party. C'mon , let's grab a drink. Perhaps I can even convince you to dance this time" A wide playful smirk accompanied the flirty comment exquisitely and, even though Jake was more than used to these antics, his heart skipped a beat. Trying to compose himself, he answered while staring at the concrete floor. 

"I don't belong on that dance floor and y'know it, darlin' "

“Oh don’t say that, the 30s are the new 20s! … Even if you’re not planning to dance, you must’ve driven all the way over here for something, right?”

The damn question hit him like a truck. He could try to think of the right answer, but putting something into words made it terrifyingly real, and that was exactly what he'd been avoiding for months. The breeze made them both shiver, as the party outfits didn’t properly protect them from the chilly weather. 

“You're right” he muttered “Okay, lead the way. Make it worth the while, mh?" he teasingly replied. Even if what he was doing was definitely outside of his comfort zone, something about the constant banter between them calmed him.

"Don't you always have an amazing time with me? I thought that was why you only talk to me" a fake pout appeared on the face which Seresin couldn't help but to stare intensely in awe. Their hands intertwined and the pilot quickly melted into that comforting touch. His companion briefly exchanged some words with the bouncer and the doors opened for them. 

"Thankfully it was Joseph working tonight, I don't think Marcus would have let you in for free just like that" “I’m sure you would've charmed him into doing whatever you wanted anyway”

The thick air of the room embraced him as soon as the doors closed and the familiar feeling appeared in the pit of his stomach almost instantly; it seems like it was yesterday when he first stepped into the nightclub he now knows like the back of his hand, but in reality, that day was what it feels like ages ago. Still, the contradictions that manifested within him every time he returned persisted and only grew each day.

“I’ll go to the bar while you stay here and look pretty, okay? Same drink as always?”

It was because of moments like these that Hangman felt comfortable enough to let his guard down and be his usual extroverted self. Grabbing his wrist to stop him from going any further, he raised his voice so his words could be heard even though the music was top volume. “ Don’t you even dare to try to pay for those drinks, they’re on me.”

“Here it is, the Texan charm of Jake Seresin. I didn’t know you could apply those rules to this situation. Are you trying to imply I’m the girl in this whole affair? Shouldn't we at least draw lots for it?”

"Very funny, M/N'' the hostility that emanated from his rolling eyes made the other man realize his comment had affected Jake on a deeper level than intended. “Hey I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t hav- I know it’s  a touchy subject and I’m extremely sorry, please forgive me” the regret was visible in his expression and it also could be detected in the stuttering caused by the words rushing their way out of his mouth trying to obtain his forgiveness as fast as possible. Jake took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. 

Hangman was no saint, he didn’t go to church every Sunday or tried to look for a good christian wife to have kids with like his father did in his day. He knew God was not exactly pleased with the way he was running his life but he used to think that when the time came, He would welcome him with open arms (after having apologized profusely, that is). But now that he had fallen for the most vile trick in the book, he couldn't trust that previous statement anymore. Lust was a capital sin, pretty serious if you asked any priest from the church the Seresin family attended back in Texas, but sodomy? Say goodbye to eternal salvation, son. If Jake was being honest, the promise of heaven or the threat of hell didn't scare him. It was the destruction of all the life lessons that made him act the way he acted,  of his purpose as a son, as a man. The thing that truly haunted him at night  was the thought of a deity (and his father)  designing him to be this flawless individual with a very clear life path , only to end up as a filthy, disgusting f-

“Hey, are you okay? Would you like me to leave you alone for a bit?”

The thought of M/N walking away while he sank deeper and deeper in the sea of guilt and fury frightened him. “Please don’t” he begged “everything’s fine, I promise. Let’s down a couple shots and , who knows, maybe I’ll be in the mood to dance for a bit” the last comment was a futile attempt to hide the everlasting agony that clouded his mind. M/N moved so they were a few inches away and raised his hand to caress his cheek. His next step consisted in resting his arms around his shoulders and starting kissing him delicately in the neck and in the whole face in general, in hopes to kiss the discomfort away. 

How could something so delicate and sweet be so dirty? Was it even dirty to begin with? What about the women he had dated? He was attracted to them but now he- Too many questions Jake was not willing to answer that night. He only wanted one thing, and he was about to claim it. 

After regaining control of himself, Jake put his right hand on the younger male’s back to guide him to the counter where people were piling up fighting to get the barman’s attention. Being as attractive and well-built as he was, he obtained the alcoholic beverages rather quickly. After the last drop of tequila had made its way down their throats, Hangman took control and led him onto the dance floor. His mind was only filled of the smell of M/N’s cologne mixed with his natural scent enhanced by their bodies crashing against each other while swaying to the 2000s pop remixes, his eyes fixed on his partner’s hypnotizing movements and his hands focused on feeling what they can reach, testing if they can go further in their journey through M/N’s body. Jake was simply standing close and moving according to the song's beat but in a subtle way, just like he would do at the locals he frequented with his coworkers ; manly enough to keep his dignity intact but provocative enough to awake that lustful hunger in the other person’s soul.

‘Mon Ange’ had finally closed down and the two men were still all over each other on the angelino streets. The tingle settling in his chest could only be compared with the adrenaline rush he had previously experienced on those wild nights spent in college, the farewell by the porch of the first girl he had taken on a date or the night out after his first deployment; if he closed his eyes he could swear he was 20 again, but reality made sure to remind him of those fifteen more years that had passed. 

M/N had this juvenile thing about him, Jake couldn’t guess confidently his age from afar and his curiosity was finally satiated after befriending him and asking him about it directly ; he was 27, even though he looked some years younger. His bold character combined with his kindness and humor made M/N resemble a butterfly flying around collecting the pollen from every flower in the garden and making it seem effortless. That was one of the many things that hooked Jake on him as if he were the most addicting drug out there, making him throw away his plan of not getting attached and limiting this experience with sporadic hookups that would end then and there, never with the same person twice. That was the problem, he appeared and started moving his hips to some song, making the whole room turn around him and ever since then (even if Jake was still in denial), he was a goner.

The next thing he knew, he was laying down on M/N’s bed, a king size mattress close to a very big window that allowed him to take in the beautiful sight of the sleeping city. He had only been to the apartment twice, but he had always  left before the sun had made its appearance in the sky, moved by remorse and skepticism. This time though, he had stayed the whole night that was filled with passionate sex and heart to heart conversations and finally some cuddling that lured him to rest for a while. Now he was wide awake, sitting against the headboard, resting his eyes on the sunrise and on the slumbering figure facing him. He looked so calm, so peaceful. In that moment, turning his gaze away, he tried to repress a sob that came with a single tear falling through his left cheek. 

M/N had always known he was queer, embracing his bisexuality in childhood. Jake had never had any problems with people who were not straight, even if the people around him growing up did, but everything was different when it came to himself. For fuck’s sake, he was closer to being 40 than from his teenage years, what was he doing? He could only paralyze at the idea of anyone seeing what he was doing. It was definitely too late for him. Risking his life everyday up in the sky felt like a minor burden compared to the endurance of the dilemmas he carried with him everywhere, just like Christ had carried the cross all the way to Calvary.

He could feel himself falling for the person right next to him, and that was the worst thing that had ever happened to Lieutenant Jacob Seresin. His calloused hand cupped M/N’s soft face, making the other man lean in closer in search of that delightful warmth. Jake’s lips burned in desperate need to say something out loud. His heart started palpitating at a dangerous speed, as he knew the thing trying to escape from his mind was a cruel thing to say and that he was a horrible being just by thinking that. It was no one’s fault and it had no solution, yet the idea popped up in his mind like an unwanted ad appearing on your phone. His chest ached at the possibility of M/N hearing the words, so he tried to whisper as quietly as it was humanly possible. 

“I wish you were a girl”

[fixing-bad-posts]

I looked around and didn't see anything about this on your blog but I apologize if I missed it.

I was wondering, what does doing the work behind this blog...feel like? I guess what I'm asking is if it does anything to you. Like, I had a thought. For a flash, I imagined you as Butters from South Park in that episode where he is tasked with filtering out all the negative comments on Cartman's social media. It ended up really messing with Butters, what with him having to see all that negativity.

You're definitely not being affected to that extreme, I assume, but I wonder if you would have anything to say about the process of finding these negative posts and reading them several times to edit them. Has it exposed you to unpleasantness that you wouldn't have otherwise seen? Or is there perhaps a kind of catharsis in editing such filth?

I'm making a lot of assumptions here. Maybe I'm also asking about your process. I just think what you're doing is neat and would love to hear about your experience with it.

Thanks for reading and I hope you have plenty of reasons to feel joy <3

oh boy, i love talking about myself haha—so thank you for giving me an excuse to do so! i have answered similar questions in the past, though never at length. every once in a while, someone pops into the inbox to ask about my mental health (which, rest assured, is just fine—i don’t put this blog’s operation above anything; it’s honestly pretty low on my list of life-priorities), and it’s always quite sweet. having a mob of strangers following one’s sideblog has its perks: one being that sometimes parasociality results in some well wishes, kind thoughts, and general goodwill. which is very nice, and probably an unearned vanity-boost for my ego.

what does the work behind this blog feel like? in turns: mundane, challenging, vindicating, annoying, amusing… and probably other things that i’m forgetting. most of the work i do on this blog is actually me procrastinating! i am a certified adult with a job™, and i’m definitely guilty of slacking off at work sometimes to queue posts submissions from my inbox, which is more fun than like… proofreading financial documents and making spreadsheets. other times, i’m sitting in a café with my partner, and allegedly i’m “writing” fanfiction. but, uh, if you know any writers, you know that sometimes “writing” means, ‘looking at a blinking cursor’. so it’s in those moments that i open up tumblr and start writing image descriptions and adding tags to prep posts for my queue. that’s mainly when the blog feels mundane.

something that i think helps me avoid negative doomscroll-spirals is that i don’t actively seek out bad posts for this blog. being a citizen of the internet delivers fodder to me naturally. that, and running a semi-popular sideblog on tumblr. when i see a bad post in the wild, that’s when the feeling is annoying/challenging. challenging, because ever since starting this sideblog, hateful posts don’t feel as vicious to me. once i see them, they stop being posts and turn into word-puzzles. and i love word puzzles!

solving the word puzzle is amusing for me, as is getting to look at my resulting “blackout poem.” it makes me laugh, it stretches my brain. when i started, i used to have to read a post several times to find the ‘good post within the bad post’ so to speak. these days, i’m so used to it, i barely read the bad posts more than a handful of times. but as i was saying to my partner, one of the reasons i love found poetry (erasure poetry, and cut-up poetry) is that it uses the same part of my brain that loves scrabble (the board game). then, of course, it's vindicating to see my posts get so many notes, sometimes surpassing the original bad post. that's more of my own vanity, i'm sure.

as for the last part of your message: yes, i have plenty of reasons to feel joy. i work with people who respect me, i live walking distance from a bubble tea café, and have friends and family whom i love. i have the good fortune to be safely out as a queer person. i’m a fanbinder. i’m currently working on a long fanfiction which is getting some very nice comments on ao3. and i’ve recently decided to become a poet (like, for real).

i must admit, i’m fascinated by how you imagine me. i often wonder how i am perceived, especially because i keep many cards close to my chest here on my sideblog.

anyhow, thank you for this excuse to ramble about myself and the process of running this blog. i hope you also have plenty of reasons to feel joy 💛

[farfromstrange]

Useless | Matt Murdock x Reader

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Mental illness can be a cruel bitch sometimes. Thankfully, Matt Murdock is patient and he always takes care of you, even when you try to shut him out.

Warnings: ANGST, emotional hurt/comfort, Mental Health Episode, allusions to self-harm and suicidal thoughts, post Season 3 (spoilers ahead), not proofread

A/n: to anyone following me, you already know why this is being posted. I wrote this while I was depressed. I hope it helps some of you. I won’t say any more because there’s no words to be said about this. It’s sad but there’s comfort in the end and some wisdom I’ve gathered. You’re welcome!

I’ve put whatever I have left to post into the queue. I’m going to bed now. I wanted to post this beforehand because I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished for the first time in a while. I’ll see you soon, but probably not tomorrow… like I said, baby steps. My profile’s been busy enough for today and me too, for that matter. Take care of yourselves and please, if you ever feel down, don’t hesitate to talk to someone!

He knocks three times. He has a key, so he doesn’t have to knock, but he does, and after that he even rings the doorbell, but you can’t bring yourself up to get off the cold bathroom floor.

“Sweetheart,” his gentle voice rings out. There’s a small thud, it sounds hollow and quieter than his insistent knocks just a moment ago. His forehead collides with the wood of the front door and the room falls silent. “I can hear your heartbeat, y’know, so I know you’re not dead, but it’s still distressing to not hear from you for days,” he says. “I’m gonna open the door now.”

He finds you in the bathtub, but there is no water and you’re still wearing your pajamas from two days ago. You’re dry, so you haven’t showered with your clothes on, and overall it seems as if you’re just using the bathtub as a makeshift bed rather than an attempt to cool yourself to death.

Matt sighs deeply. “You know how worried I was?”

Your mouth is dry, your head fuzzy and you can’t possibly speak with your throat this tight.

Control is a fragile concept. You might be in control of your life for one second, and then the next everything's falling apart. Your kind descends into a downward spiral and once you’re going down, breaking out seems like an impossible task to do.

It’s times like these where life feels like it’s just happening to you and you have to sit back and endure it. You physically can’t take the reins back, no matter how hard you try. You’re paralyzed. It’s your head that’s screaming for you to act, but all you can do is sit back and watch in horror as you drive yourself off the road.

“You’ve been shutting people out again, haven’t you?” He rhetorically asks. “Because when I asked your friends, they said they haven’t seen you in days either, they’ve just read your texts, and they were short and snappy and that’s not like you, baby. Or it is, but only when it’s getting bad again. I was afraid this might have happened, I just didn’t want to accept it until I couldn’t bear it anymore. I had to check up on you. Glad I followed my gut.” He says the last part under his breath, and the relief mixes with the worry in an expression that makes you want to throw up. It’s sickening how much he cares, and the world doesn’t deserve him the same way you feel like you don’t.

The truth passes right by you. All you can think about is what you keep telling yourself. You’re useless, worthless, a nuisance and everyone hates you, so you need to erase yourself from the narrative to make the world slow down and make everyone just shut up. Even now you want Matt to shut up because his voice is like the sound of a million needles dropping on the floor of a hollow room all at once.

The worst part is, you know you should feel guilty for caving in on yourself but you can’t feel anything but this nagging feeling of anger and frustration eating away at your heart. Even his voice makes your fists clench. At least the deafening quiet has kept your nerves from fading into nothing and triggering that toe-curling feeling of overstimulating that sits right at the top of your brain and makes every last muscle twitch in a way that causes anger to seep from your pores, he can smell it.

He can hear it in your heart and your breathing too, he knows you’re not okay, and he knows his constant questioning only makes the fire that is burning you alive worse. It’s been like this before and it will continue happening, he knows. He knows that and he accepts you with all of your flaws and all the problems you might have. He loves you, why should he leave you for something that’s not even your fault? You haven’t quite grasped the concept of his devotion for you yet, but he’s determined to prove it to you.

He kneels next to the bathtub, shedding his suit jacket along the way and placed his chin on his forearms as he leans forward. His glasses land on the floor and his smile is so lopsided, it makes you frown for a second. He’s trying his hardest to make you smile with the way his sightless brown eyes try to find yours, and his teeth glisten in the bathroom light as he grins at you.

“What is it this time?” He doesn’t question your behavior, he just wants to understand. He knows you better than anyone else, after all.

You let out a prolonged breath. Even his voice has you on edge, but you suppose it could be worse. He’s not as annoying as your own voice when you answer, “Life.”

You sound so drained, his features soften even more and he reaches out to brush the greasy hair out of your face. There is wine in your breath, his nose picks up on that instantly, and you desperately need a shower, but he doesn’t tell you that because he knows you already know that. He’d never judge you for it. He’s happy as long as you’re alive, the rest can be figured out at a later time.

“Are you drunk?” he asks.

“Lightly buzzed,” you say.

The alcohol was supposed to take the edge off, but it’s only made you more nervous.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Do you want to take a shower?”

“No. I need the world to be fucking quiet, that’s what I need.”

You flinch at your own tone, but he doesn’t seem fazed at your snappy nature. You swear it’s not personal. You would have apologized a million times if you hadn’t been so tired, and he really doesn’t seem to mind. He simply nods, acknowledging your wish.

“Okay,” he says. “Can I take you to bed then, at least? Your back probably hurts. How long have you been here?”

Your eyes flutter closed. “This morning,” you tell him.

He sighs wearily. “Of course, you have. Can I take you to bed, sweetheart, please? I’ll make sure you’re properly compressed so you won’t get triggered by new sensations, I promise, just… let me do this for you. The bathtub is no place to cry, you’ve told me that.”

You did, once.

And you couldn’t possibly protest, even if you tried. Your back does hurt and you’re more tired than usual. You haven’t required this much sleep in a while, but your mind and body are both exhausted and you feel as if you’re going to faint if you keep staring at the white bathroom tiles. Matt’s presence has knocked some sense back into you, bringing reality to the forefront, but the alcohol and shed tears keep your mind fuzzy to the point you’re not sure if you can feel your legs.

Matt senses your hesitation. Ever the caring boyfriend, he reaches his arms out to lift you out of the tub. “C’mon,” he says.

“Why aren’t you angry?” your voice cracks as you ask the dreaded question.

He has you up in his arms in an instant. “Why aren’t you yelling at me?”

His lips press to your temple, a silent answer as he carries you into your still-dark bedroom.

“Matt,” you try again, but he stops you.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he says, wrapping your fragile body in blankets and mountains of pillows. “It’s okay to feel like shit sometimes, and if you need to shut people out to feel better, that’s okay too, just try telling them how you feel before you disappear or they might start thinking you hurt yourself.”

“I don’t do that anymore.”

He swallows hard at the emphasis. “I know, sweetheart, but it’s hard for the people who love you to differentiate.”

You pout, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “don’t say that. It’s not your fault. Here, scoot over.”

He takes off his shoes and the rest of his clothes until he’s left in his boxers. You do as you’re told and let him into bed with you.

“You want to cuddle or is that too much?” he asks.

Considering your skin feels hot and on fire while your flesh is freezing, your heart contracting in pure agony at even the thought of being touched, you shy away and shake your head, the tears finally starting to flow. He smells the salt in the air, mixing with the salt of your sweat.

You hide your face in the pillow. The sob that passes your lips sounds broken. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you admit. “Everything just… sucks.”

“I know. I’m so sorry, I wish I could help you.” He doesn’t touch you. He respects your boundaries.

You shiver, curling further into the pillows. His warmth is there, but his hands aren’t. Still, it’s enough to make your body vibrate with the heaviest sob you’ve let out in a while. He wants nothing more than to hug you, but he doesn’t. Instead, he sits by your side and lets you cry it out in the company of someone who understands how you feel because he has them too, the bad episodes, the times he just wants to shut everyone out and sleep in his bathtub. It’s because of that he isn’t angry or upset with you for doing what your mind thought to be right at the moment. He understands better than anyone else ever could, and it somehow makes the tears flow even faster and harder to the point you can’t help it anymore. You ignore the smoldering fire in your chest and curl around his arm; it’s all you can do without breaking apart, but you need him while not needing him, and a touch you can control is better than something forced on you. His pulse drums against your fingers resting around his wrist and it manages to calm your own in the process.

“I want a different brain,” you eventually choke out. “It’s not fair God gave me the messed up one. I don’t want it. I don’t want to be me. I just want to be someone else, just for today.”

The human psyche is treacherous and easily turns your entire mindset against you.

He sighs, reaching up to pat your hair. “I’m sorry,” it’s all he knows how to say. He’s sorry that you feel this way, that you feel guilty for being you, and that there is nothing he can say or do that would make the monster shut up.

His presence has to somehow suffice, telling you you’re not alone anymore and that you’re not the failure you make yourself out to be. He helps you heal while at the same time, he makes you better. You hate him for being so kind, for making you love him so deeply you can’t possibly hate him. It’s confusing, all of this, your heart and your feelings, but most importantly your thoughts.

The tears die down eventually, your tear ducts empty and your mind and body tired from screaming at each other. Your hold has tightened around his arm, your eyes squeezed shut and the occasional sobs are all that are left from the unplanned breakdown.

Matt still has his hand in your hair, brushing through it until your heartbeat has slowed and you can breathe again.

You feel obligated to apologize. “I’m sorry,” you say. Of course, he shuts you down.

“It’s not your fault,” he reminds you. “And I’m always going to be here to tell you that. I love you, sweetheart, and you’re worthy of my love. You’re worthy of all of my love. It’s okay to be depressed, it’s okay to take what you need and it’s more than okay to take a break.”

“Then why do I feel so useless? It’s been like this for a year now and I can’t… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Everyone reaches their breaking point eventually. I did, back when I was still living in the church basement. But I crawled my way back out of hell. You know how long it took me, so why put yourself down for taking your time now?”

He makes a valid point, which is infuriating. You whimper. “I hate that I love you so much.”

He chuckles. “Right now you do, tomorrow you won’t.”

“I know.” Your voice cracks again. “God, I’m so sorry. My head’s a mess.”

He leans over to kiss your hair again. “Well, thank God I’m here now to take care of you,” he says. “Tomorrow, I’ll clean up your apartment and make sure you eat something. You don’t have to shower if you don’t feel ready, but it might help. But we’ll see that tomorrow, okay? For now, I want you to rest. I’m right here if you need me.”

The sleep catches up with you shortly after he’s done talking, his hand scratching your scalp while he whispers Sweet nothings into the night, distracting you from the hellish thoughts your mind has conjured up for you. It’s just you and him, his voice a lullaby that you’ve grown accustomed to, and with Matt by your side, you finally fight your way into a dreamless sleep.

He’s your solace, your lifeline, your lifesaver, and he’s always there, even when you don’t ask him to. He’s the comfort you need, your common sense and the sun that lights up your darkest days. Without him, you’re sure you would have been lost, swallowed by the tide of severe mental illness and the cruelty that is life itself.

You love him and he loves you, the perfect pair, both damaged but so good to each other, the bad matters a little less when you’re together.

[antvnger]

((Hi @sundayinthcpark thanks for the question! It’s not weird at all. I already answered a question similar to this here so you can check out what I said there plus I’ll add a few more things that hopefully aren’t on that other post lol

Give your muse(s) their own space. I gave Scott a blog so we can each have our own spaces, and it’s been nice. You can do more than one muse or you can just stick with the one, whatever you wanna do.

If you wanna go multi, I’d ask a multi muse blog like @multi-muse-transect or @arandomnerdsrp358 if they have any tips.

More power to them to have more than one because Scott and I are a handful all on our own lol 

Initial blog setup and stuff can be difficult but totally worth the effort because it makes everything smoother afterwards.

Figure out your rules and tagging system beforehand. Yes tags are important. You will need a tag for lots of things. Simple asks, RP threads, when you get tagged, when you hop on a post, blah blah blah. I hate tags, but they seem to be a necessary evil

When I first started planning, I asked other RP blogs for tips and I also looked at other RP blogs to see what they do and use them as a model. Figure out what they did and how they did it and if I liked it and if it would work for me. And then I adjusted it and applied it for my own blog. Don’t copy! Make it your own. I’m just saying no point in reinventing the wheel, you know?

Once you’re up and running, send simple asks to other blogs to get yours out there. Send yourself some anonymous asks at the start to get some content on your blog. Find fanart or other random posts about your muse to reblog too.

Queueing posts will be your friend once you get the ball rolling. It’s nice lol (you’ll need a tag for queued posts too)

((Hope all of this helps! If you have more questions, don’t hesitate to ask. Good luck!

[nylwnder]

˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰ NYLWNDER’S BIRTHDAY FIC SERIES ꒱ ₊˚ˑ

hello loves!!!! it’s my birthday v soon and i wanted to do something cute to celebrate with you all :))) i’ve curated a series of fics to be posted within a time frame of five days — starting from august 25th to my birthday, aka. august 29th! i’ve picked my current favs to be the protagonists in my love-struck themed fics <3 i had lots of fun planning this out and i really do hope you all can enjoy them as much as i did making them!! love you all, stay tuned besties 💌

— on queue ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

₊❏❜ ⋮ DAY 1 ➳ frederik andersen

˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : plot : takes place as a memory of last night and nights and nights shared between the two. every night meant something. showed each other just how much love they hold for one other. how one could have so much control over the other. the way they could both rot the other's brain with infinite thoughts, whether completely filthy or tooth-aching sweet.

₊❏❜ ⋮ DAY 2 ➳ michael bunting

˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : plot : harvesting crushes for each other through their early years of school, and one unforgettable kiss at senior prom, seeing each other again after years passed was something special. love bubbled in their hearts, eyes sparkled and it felt good being lovesick kids once again. nostalgia couldn’t hit the two of them any harder.

₊❏❜ ⋮ DAY 3 ➳ rasmus sandin

˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : plot : after having some tough chances at love, it’s not hard for one to become almost hopeless at the idea of it. a set of lovely blue eyes and blonde hair can surely make your heart impulsively simp but when he fights to actually gain your attention? the butterflies in your tummy don’t even know what to do. he has lots of plans for you and you wouldn’t want anyone else to have your firsts with.

₊❏❜ ⋮ DAY 4 ➳ morgan rielly

˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : plot : next door neighbours either completely hate each other, or are totally in love. for one pair, they always sat in the middle. even though they could both get on each other's nerves, they did always stick by each other. that is though, it always seemed like there were “boyfriends” or “girlfriends” separating them from imagining a time where it could just be the two of them. that’s until enough is enough.

₊❏❜ ⋮ DAY 5 ➳ william nylander

˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : plot : driving around, the wind in your hair, hands interlaced, singing along to your favourite tracks. they were things you loved doing together. there was no place that the two of you could go where you didn’t have fun. nor was there ever a time where you didn’t find one more thing you loved about the other. being lost in love could possibly be the best feeling in the world.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tagging moots <3 @11livpangburn , @shcldonkeefe @shoot-the-puck , @bb-nhlqueen7 , @holidaywishes , @dembenchboys , @ayohockeycheck , @broadstbroskis , @donttelltheelff , @lewis-hamilton44 , @laurenairay , @2manytabsopen , @boqvistsbabe , @saviourcomplexes , @rapidfever , @leafsbaee , @leafsgm , @ilyasorokinn , @zackcollins , @wnylanderthals , @nhlandotherimagines

[thatstrangegiiirrlll]

California Sunset

Hey y’all! This is the first smut I’ve ever posted on the internet. I’ve been writing for a good six and a half to seven years now(four years for fun and around 3 or so years professionally) and I believe that I’m a pretty good writer. One thing though, when it comes to putting my work out there for people to read and interpret for themselves, sometimes that can be a bit nerve-wracking. Either way I put my ALL into my work whether it’s a smut, short story, poem, or an entire novel. I hope you all enjoy. (:

It’s a gorgeous, goregous night here in LA, the breathtaking sunset sitting perfectly in the middle of the sky. The swriling hues of orange and pink are enough to make anyone stop and stare in awe. You only hope that someone can find you as enchanting and beautiful as a warm sunset.

You figured that you had that with Chishiya, but now you aren’t so sure anymore. You’ve always been understanding of how busy and consumed in work that your boyfriend can be. Especially when he loses a pateint. You know how much of a toll that can take on his emotions at times. Being a doctor isn’t easy in anyway. All in the same, it’s a very rewarding career path.

As a nurse, you’re also occupied with your own career, with your life in general. But you’ve always gone by the belief that people make time for what they deem as a priority—what they consider important to them. And you always make time for Chishiya. Now it seems as though he’s starting to pull away from you. He barely touches you—rarely ever even compliments you anymore. You hate to admit how much that stings, how much it hurts your pride.

“Chishiya,” you call out to him, eyes glazing over his slim, relaxed stature. He’s so into the game that he’s currently playing on his playstation that you sadly doubt he heard you call his name. Or worse, he’s ignoring you on purpose.

You frown up, crossing your arms in impatience. “Chishiya!” This time your tone is a lot more crisp and assertive.

“Hm,” he mumbles, almost carelessly, never taking his eyes off of the tv screen.

In attempt to ignore his cold demeanor, you clear your throat in hopes that he can’t detect the hurt in your voice.

“I’m leaving to meet up with friends now. I won’t be back until very late.”

His eyes dart from his game and to you for a split second as he says, “Not too late. Be safe.” And just like that he averts every morsel of his attention back to the game.

Knowing how childish the very next words leaving your mouth are, you say them anyway, unable to hide your hurt. “Yeah, maybe I’ll come across a man that truly recognizes me and appreciates my damn existence tonight.” You eye him sharply, arms still stacked tightly across your chest—your special defense mechanism. He pauses his game as if on queue, a smirk forming on his soft, baby face, implying he’s willing to play along into your game. You resent how adorable and squishy you find this man. Even when he’s being a distant, insensitive, little prick.

He chuckles as he replies, “Sure. Send me a picture when you find him. I need to know what I’m up against.”

You scoff. “How do some nudes sound, Chishiya?” You retort, unable to conceal the emotion in your voice at this point. “Forget it. I’ll see you whenever you decide to act like you give a damn about me.”

That heavy and restricting sensation one gets in their throat when tears threaten to fall begins to bite at you as you turn abruptly to exit the room. But Chishiya has other plans. He grips you up, spinning you by your waist, somehow teleporting from his previous, peaceful position in his gaming chair and over to you. Sheesh. Don’t underestimate these shorter men. They move quick. Not to mention that surprising strength they have.

“What?” He questions, trying to look you in the eyes, but you stubbornly refuse to look at his face, afraid you’ll cry once you do so. “That’s why you’re threatening me with other men, huh? You think I don’t care about you?”

You push his hands off of your body, heaving out a small whimper. “Chishiya,” you whisper, your tone of voice tired and matter of factly. “Do you even find me attractive anymore? I mean seriously…you give me minimal devotion when we’re together. Just now, you could barely be bothered to pause that ugly game long enough to see off your girlfriend! And your affection? It’s almost as though you never even had any for me. You touch me like its an obligation and not because you genuinely want to. Do you get how that makes me feel as a woman? I feel as though you’re disgusted by me.”

He stands there for a second, his face displaying guilt and realization. Sighing, he walks over to his bed, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants as he flops down. “Come here.”

You can’t help it when your eyes roll slightly, stinging from the air. You walk over to him purposely standing about a foot or so away from the bed. He leans forward, grabbing you from behind your thighs and sitting you onto his lap. You blush when you feel him against you through your underwear.

He rubs your sides softly, squeezing them with intention. Your dress rises a bit at the action. “Let me start off by saying I love you; I love you so much it hurts me. You’re so gosh darn pretty it hurts me. There’s not a single part of your body and soul that I don’t adore.”

You manage to keep a soft eye contact with him as he pours himself out into you, squirming a bit as the sudden heavy and passionate mood of the room has you feeling shy. He smiles crookedly at your demeanor before continuing.

“I apologize for being distant, love. I shouldn’t direct my worries at you as if you’re the cause of them. You make me better and I forgot that for a moment there. On top of work and just being utterly drained all the time, I stored the fact that my stress reliever is you all the way back in to my mind. I’ll be more mindful from now on. I’ll be present.”

You swallow quietly, unsure of what to say. Your eyes are glued to his cat-like eyes as he smiles cheekily at you. You cave in at the precious sight, cupping his left cheek warmly.

“I love you, Chishiya. I’m always gonna be right here for you to talk to. I care about you and your wellbeing. You’re my heart.”

He nods reassuringly, taking both your hands behind your back and kissing you deeply. This catches you off guard, but you respond immediately, allowing his tongue to taste every inch of your mouth. You release a satisfied groan into his mouth, the vibration tickling the roof of it. He chuckles at the sensation. He’s giggling and being all light and feathery, but there’s a drive of concentration and lust in you as you grind into his pelvis, needing to feel more. Your eyes darken with arousal as the kiss gets more sloppy and explorative.

When he lets your arms loose from behind your back and slips a hand behind your neck to deepen the kiss even more, you become ecstatic; the feeling of sizzling passion and care eating away at you. You can hardly take it. He kisses you as if he wants to swallow you whole. In the nastiest of ways, he ravishes you immensely.

“Chishiya,” you breathe out, your core tingling with every sensation. Your stomach is on fire with excitement.

He places a final soft kiss to your lips before slipping your stretchable dress over your head. That look of hunger in his eyes mixed with a display of smug innocence drove you crazy. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

When your dress is off completely, he latches his tongue onto your nipple, teasing it with delicacy. He moves his mouth back and forth between your breasts, giving special attention to both of them. You gasp harshly when he grazes his teeth lightly over your hard nipples, sucking them with an exhilarating popping sound that slides off of his tongue.

“You’re so sweet,” he whispers in that husky voice that you love so much. He turns you over on your back onto the bed, laying a pillow behind your head for support. “Shit. You’re soaked, huh?”

Your eyes flutter open to the sight of him taking your underwear to the side, using his thumb to rub your clit tenderly. You blush hard at the remark and relish in the contact he’s delivering.

He continues this for a few more seconds as you only become wetter with each touch. Removing your panties all the way off and tossing them aimlessly, he positions himself perfectly between your thighs, planting love bites on them before sloppily kissing your pussy. You arch your back as far as it can go, aching to feel every sensation. You feel him smirk against your pussy, getting a kick out of how good he makes you feel.

Licking softly from your slit and back up to your clit as an appetizer, he sucks on the area, resulting in a squeal from you. He sucks on your pussy as though he hadn’t eaten all day. You’re pretty positive if it was possible to leave hickeys on a clit, you’d have a ton.

“Fuck,” you hiss, throwing your head back and grabbing the sheets in desperation. He looks up at you, slow and loving catlike blinks and admiration all over him. It’s something about the way he looks into your eyes as he tastes you that screams “I see right through you.”

“I’m coming,” you manage—barely a whisper. He can feel your pussy start to contract against his mouth and he gives his all to you as you ride out your orgasm against his face. It glistens with your arousal and this sight alone tips you over.

You gasp breathlessly as you come, stomach and chest heaving up and down. You have no control over your legs as they quiver uncontrollably. “Oh my fuck,” Is all you can say as your body is still coming off of the serious convulsion you just had. Teasingly, he begins rubbing the extremely sensitive area at quick speed, knowing how insane it drives you. You push him back weakly and groan, overwhelmed at the sudden touch. What a sneaky, little fucking tease, you think.

He rises up, giggling and hovering over you, leaning down to kiss you lovingly. “You always make such pretty noises for me.”

You wrap your arms lazily over his neck and pull him down for another kiss, forgetting all about the fact that you’re supposed to be going out tonight. Oh well. This is way better anyway.

And there’s the end of that! As you all can see I have a lot of love for the character Shuntaro Chishiya, as I do a lot of characters. But I just recently finished season 2 of Alice in borderland and it’s literally impossible for me to fall anymore in love with his character than I already am. I’m into a lot of different fandoms so expect all kinds of material on this blog! No one trick pony ish on this side. I do it all. I appreciate the read. Leave a like if you found this smut smutty enough for your taste. And leave a comment on anything I can improve! -Ash

[laurenairay]

1 - “You know I’m literally obsessed with you.” – JT Compher

821 words

My original post of this got eaten by tumblr so my apologies @xsyntheticsensation​ ! I hope you enjoy this one for our fav ginger grumpy cat! I had a lot of fun making the little extra surprise at the end.

*

“I hate people.”

“Hello to you too,” JT mused, lifting his head to look at you from where he was sitting on the sofa.

You groaned, leaning down to kiss your boyfriend in greeting, smiling softly at the laughter he was trying to hold in. “Sorry, it’s not been the best day.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.

Where to start!

“First of all, the queue for coffee this morning was ridiculous and I was nearly late for work. Then we had two meetings which could’ve been emails for sure and a third meeting which ran on way too long. And then, the project I’m working on has been scrapped because the Sales guy didn’t communicate properly with the client and now the client wants something completely different, so all that work I’ve put in this week was for nothing!”

“And…” he prompted.

“Internet girls thirsting over you on the Avs social media posts?” you added, smiling wryly.

“Really?” he said, frowning.

“Oh come on, JT, you know how hot you are. And women on the internet agree with me,” you groaned, sinking down into the sofa cushion next to me.

“Um, not to be that guy, but it kind of comes with the territory? And it’s been like this since we started dating 6 months ago – why is it annoying you now?”

If it was any other guy, you’d be rolling your eyes at the ego, but that just wasn’t JT. This wasn’t him being cocky or arrogant, and you both knew that. That doesn’t mean it made things any better though.

“It’s always annoyed me, babe, I’m just extra annoyed about it today. We’ve been official nearly 6 months and I have a key to your apartment now and all these girls think you’re single, which fine, we don’t post our relationship everywhere because bleurgh who needs the drama. Things like this just get to me though, enough that when I went to lunch with some of the girls, they noticed that I wasn’t happy and we started diving into it,” you rambled.

“Oh shit here we go,” he laughed, wincing a little at the thought of your friends’ reactions.

“Don’t get me wrong, I like that we have things that are just us – it makes them special. But the girls were just like woah those are some thirsty random girls and I bet his DMs are full of titty pics and bad flirting,” you groaned, JT’s grimace confirming what you’d said, “And then some of the girls were like, you’re not even on his socials so of course they think he’s single, which is true but really not the point, and-”

“So why don’t we make a stupid insta post then?” he said, interrupting.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“You’re fed up with the flirting and the speculation. I want everyone to know that I’m the luckiest guy alive. This is a win-win situation,” JT said simply.

“Really? You’d want to do that? You hate sappy insta posts,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“I might hate those cheesy posts couples do but I love you. You know I’m literally obsessed with you,” JT shrugged, smiling softly.

You felt your cheeks rush with heat at his sweet words, butterflies filling your stomach. For someone who was usually so reserved with his declarations of feelings, he sure could pick his moments.

“JT Compher you are the biggest simp,” you giggled.

JT’s soft smile turned into a wide grin, making you laugh as he shrugged again.

“Guilty as charged,” he said simply.

“You know we don’t have to, right? I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with just for me. I know all those girls on the internet and in the bars don’t mean anything to you – I trust you,” you said seriously.

It was one thing for him to want to make you feel more secure, but if it came at the price of him feeling uneasy? No way. But he just shook his head, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Baby, I want to show you off to the world. I want everyone to know that you’re mine,” JT said, smiling sweetly, “You’re not the only one who gets jealous and annoyed with all the people who hit on you.”

Well when he put it like that…

“Looks like we’re going public then babe,” you grinned.

JT grinned back at you and pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket, immediately starting to scroll.

“Leave this with me. I have an idea,” he said happily.

On a normal day, you’d be concerned that your usually-grumpy was so enthusiastic about putting together an Instagram post – but for this sweetness you were willing to let the strangeness slide. If he was this excited about putting up a public post to shout out about your relationship to the world (finally) then who were you to dim that sunshine?

[artificialqueens]

🏳️‍🌈 WeHo Trans Nights: Chapter 1 (Bianca Del Rio / Kylie Sonique Love ; Multi) - Imafuckinglibra

A/N : Happy fucking pride, that’s it. I don’t care if the month’s almost over, this mini-series is my pride gift to you all and ngl myself. This was pure, unapologetic, self-indulgent smut that I wanted to exist and you know what, I am really proud of it. And yes, I pinky promise there will be art that follows for this next queue, k bye.

“…then this dumb bitch had the audacity to say, get this, people were killed at Stonewall.” 

The small room filled with a loud uproar of oohs, aahs and a few laughs, none of which came from Roy. He was far too busy reposting some snide comeback he tweeted at a heckler to his Instagram, his Instagram story, Facebook, and once again on Twitter, just for good measure.

“Did you hear that?” Darienne asked, slapping Roy roughly on the back. 

“Yeah bitch dumb something stonewall, so funny…” Roy drawled absentmindedly, still typing away on his phone.

Never one to shy from a good excuse to celebrate something, his best friend Shane threw an annual party to kick off pride. Always a different stupid theme and always a hotbed for degenerates. 

This being the 8th year in a row, Roy had had enough. All night, he’d fulfilled his best-friend duties and helped keep everything running smoothly, as usual, but nearing the end of the party he was not in the mood for any more mindless small-talk. Even with Darienne.

Darienne, still standing beside him, sighed deeply, “Will you lighten up please?”

“Ugh, why?” he grumbled. “You know I hate pride.”

“Now, Roy…” 

He felt someone’s hands on his shoulders. 

“My love.” It was Shane, cooing in his ear, taking the phone out of his hand just as he hit the last post. “Can we please put the phone away for one night and engage in polite society?”

Roy blinked at him slowly, emphasizing the stupidity in his statement with a loud smack of his lips.

“Look around you,” he gestured with his open palms, “NONE of these people are polite society.”

“Well-“

“Willam sucked off a guy while he watched dog porn, I know Australians have different worldviews but we regular folk see that as…what’s the word?” Shane shifted from one foot to the other, crossing his arms in annoyance as Roy kept pretending to think. “Nasty ass shit!”

“I hate you,” Shane broke out into a laugh, hitting Roy on the arm with his bedazzled rainbow fan, a little roughly at first but then a few more times, playfully, till Roy stopped frowning. 

“Okay, okay.” Roy snatched his fan from him. 

“But thank you for coming to my party, even if we have so many degenerates.”

“Of course, I get my best material at your little shindigs.” 

And that really was the God’s honest truth. As much as Roy loathed Shane’s parties and having to engage with so many people who he tolerated at best, it did make for some top-tier stand-up material. Material the budding comic desperately needed.

“Oh I know,” Shane nodded. “I intend to get royalties any day now.”

“Is that how it is?” He raised an eyebrow. “So this is a business affair?”

“Oh pussyface, at this point I’d settle for any affair.”

“Only if you ask nicely,” Roy shot back with a shit-eating grin, his hand sliding down from Shane’s shoulders to the small of his back.

“Don’t tempt me, I have guests to entertain,” Shane sighed, turning away from Roy and towards the room of people. “Like that one!” 

Shane waved at Adore, running off to go catch up.

Roy gave the room another scan, checking for any out of place cups or spills to clean up, even sort of hoping there would be a stain on the carpet to scrub so he’d have something to cure his boredom.

Then, like a godsend, he saw her walking towards him.

“My my, aren’t you just cuter than a box of kittens on a Sunday afternoon?” Kylie whistled when she saw Roy’s outfit.

“Haven’t seen you all night, I was wondering why this party was so quiet,” Roy teased. 

“Careful, one of these days I might take it personally,” Kylie smiled. She finally turned around, arms open for a welcoming hug. “Well hey there, Sugar!”

“How are you, Sugartits?” He squeezed her tight, getting a good whiff of her deliciously sweet perfume. 

Roy loved getting to hang out with Kylie, rare as it was. There wasn’t a specific reason, she was just that one friend he never really got to work with regularly and thus never spent time with. But it did make reuniting so much sweeter. 

They both looked at each other and gave a good exhale, neither sure what to say except the usual, “you look good” or “I’ve missed you”. 

Instead they quietly made their way to the bar where the poor twink bartender Shane found on Grindr was panicking while pouring drinks, clearly out of his depth. Roy’s sympathetic smile seemed like the only comfort he’d received all night and for a second he almost felt bad for him, till he decided to note it down in his phone for later material instead.

“Well,” Kylie broke the silence first, turning towards where Willam was still telling his story. “He’s doing the Derrick bit again…never gets new material, does he?”

“Nope.” Roy popped the p for emphasis. 

It seemed like every year, Willam would tell this same story, Roy would get drunk on the same cocktails and, if he played his cards right, Shane would ask him to stay over at the end of the night for a wild evening of sinfully good sex. The latter he wasn’t too mad at.

And Kylie. Every year they’d flirt a little over the same shots of tequila, catch up on what was new in their lives, and then part ways yet again. Same old same old, and this year she was right on cue again.

“I’m pretty surprised we’re dressed the same. I mean I look better but we knew,” she teased while they waited for their drinks from the struggling bartender. “I didn’t think anyone else would come as a slutty witch, let alone you.”

“Ouch,” Roy pretended to flinch, pressing his hand to his wounded chest. “Say what the fuck you really think, cunt.”

“Oh please, you can take it.” 

“You like that?” Roy asked, lifting a brow. “You should see how I give it.”

Even without looking Roy could feel her hand moving slowly closer to his on the countertop. He tried to decipher if it was just his mind playing tricks on him or if she was trying to do a little more than flirt this time around. 

Not that he would mind. She was gorgeous; she’d always been gorgeous but tonight, she was a downright smoke show. It was obvious how much work she put into her body just from her Instagram posts but seeing it in person was something else.

Well, that or just the obvious; the costume she wore was so small and tightly fitted it was damn near indecent.

When Shane had given the theme for the year as ‘Gay Christmas,’ the West Hollywood way of saying Halloween, he didn’t expect anyone else to even bother thinking of a witch; it was too mundane.

And yet, here Kylie stood in nothing but a corset, a lace bustle that showed off her black panties, leather opera-length gloves and boots that went all the way to her thighs. An oversized witch hat and teeny, tiny broom as accessories as if they were an afterthought to make the witch part fit.

“So um, can I ask you something?” Her fingers crawled towards him, running them over the back of his hand. 

“Yeah, sure.” He casually took a sip from his cocktail as if the butterflies in his stomach weren’t going berserk. 

“I need you to promise me if anyone brings out their guitar or starts singing again this year…”

“Oh god!” Roy burst out into hysterical cackling. The visions of last year’s fiasco and the horrors of 20 queers trying to sing over each other replayed in his mind.

“We are out of here!” She slapped his shoulder, joining in his laughter. “Member when uh, what’s her name?” She snapped her fingers, “the little one with the baby face and the sad songs?”

“Blair,” Roy shuddered. 

“Blair!” Kylie pulled her face in confusion. “I always expect some big gal with like some unseasoned potato salad in hand when someone says Blair St. Clair, don’t you?”

“If that ain’t the honest truth, bitch.”

They clinked their glasses and each took a sip, smiling cordially at each other before they returned their focus to where Willam was starting a new story about how drunk Derrick had gotten at a comedy special they did together. 

Not quite as old a story as his Stonewall tale, but once you got him going he didn’t relent on any chance to diss good ol’ Derrick Berry, especially when he was in attendance, practically blowing smoke out of his ears with rage. 

“So, how’d Shane talk you into this?” Kylie asked, dragging Roy’s focus back from his phone, yet again replying to snarky comments left on his posts.

“Do you mean the party or the get-up?” He didn’t even bother looking up, too distracted in his mission to get the last word in. 

“You do look fantastic in that shirt though,” she teased, fingering the little piece of loose thread around his shoulder.

Maybe he’d gone for a predictable look, a black mesh crop top that barely came up to his chest, the same leather harness every respectable queer person owned, black denim shorts, some knee length black boots (which Shane had happily provided) and a witch’s hat. 

“I know,” he nodded, finally putting the phone away. “Black’s my color. Have to admit, you don’t look half bad yourself.”

“Oh I know, sugar. You don’t have to tell me.”

“I always forget just how country you are until you talk.” He smiled, a sense of homesickness tugging at his chest. “Sugah.”

“Are you tickled, bitch?” 

“I am very tickled…especially by that outfit,” he whistled, making her spin around while holding her hand over her head. “You really—“

“Fill it out well?” Clearly she’d gotten this note before.

“No.” He grabbed her by the arm, pulling her roughly back against him so she’d be facing the same direction as him. “Look.”

“What?” She stopped, looking down at where he held her bicep.

“Better grab your shit…and quick.” He failed to hide an amused smile as he pointed over to where Trixie and Jinkx were setting up their chairs and a guitar.

“Oh, sweet baby Jesus…” Kylie’s eyes went wide in horror when Trixie began strumming the intro to Jolene by Dolly Parton. She quickly grabbed her drink, trying to chug the rest.

“Forget the goddamn drink, run!” Roy laughed, pushing her towards the front door with his hand on the small of her back.

*

“Is this your first time seeing my place?” she asked politely when they walked into her apartment. 

“Uh, yeah.” Roy nodded. “Pretty sure, but it’s nice. Good view.” 

God it was awkward.

“We don’t have to make small talk, do we?” she asked with a hesitant tone while putting down her stolen glass down on a countertop. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to Roy and continue their banter from earlier, but she did have more pressing issues to take care of first.

Roy crossed his arms, his brows furrowed as if he was thinking something through, asking, “No chit chat? You sure?”

“If you are.” Kylie shrugged. 

Faster than she could say flash Roy closed the distance, crashing their lips together in a feverish rush. His hands were already desperately clinging to whatever fabric he could find to rip it off of her. 

“God you just got even sexier,” she breathed into his mouth. 

Kylie could feel the corners of his lips twisting into a smile, presumably at the relief that he didn’t have to wait around anymore. 

“Back, uh, back room, on the right,” she instructed between breathy moans, following Roy’s lead and removing the thin piece of fabric he dared call a shirt as he pushed her into her bedroom.

Their costumes flew left and right in a haphazard rush to undress till Kylie was finally down to just her corset, and Roy had to let go of her to focus. 

“Lord have mercy.” He stopped in his tracks, admiring her tits when they escaped the top loosened laces of her corset.

“You like em, baby?” Obviously Kylie knew the answer, given the way his mouth practically salivated at the sight of them. 

“You have no idea,” he moaned, taking one of her nipples in his mouth, causing her head to tilt back in gorgeous ecstasy as Roy’s tongue swirled around it, soothing where his teeth had grazed it. 

He let the now over-sensitive bud go with a loud pop, satisfied at his handiwork, and reached for the second one, repeating every step, every bite and every lick, making Kylie practically vibrate with desire.

“Now don’t make me beg.” 

Kylie’s long fake nails latched onto Roy’s ass in a desperate attempt to guide his thigh between her legs for any kind of friction as he kept worshiping her breasts. 

“I can’t help it,” he murmured into her neck, latching onto her pulse point with his teeth. 

“Dammit, why did I wear this stupid thing?” Kylie whined.

She hadn’t expected Roy, ever the hardass, to be so attentive or teasing, letting her get embarrassingly wet and needy before he even made an effort to remove her corset any further. 

“Don’t worry baby, I got you,” he soothed, at long last pulling the laces apart. 

His gentle tone was a stark contrast to the way his teeth tore into her flesh, nipping at freshly exposed skin lower and lower at a snail’s pace till his knees hit the floor.

“Boy, if you don’t-“ Kylie exhaled impatiently when he paused right at her clit, so close she could feel his breath against her wetness.

She grabbed a fistful of Roy’s hair, the fingers of her other hand spreading herself open so he couldn’t miss what she was asking. Practically offering herself up on a silver platter for him to indulge in.

Roy smirked at her, probably ready to quip something stupid back at her but she pulled his head between her legs, trapping him with a flat palm behind his head before he could even dare.

Finally obeying, his tongue flattened out against her with his eyes pointed up at her, carefully watching her every reaction to every drag of his tongue.

“Baby, please,” she moaned a little more forcefully this time, rolling her hips against him. She didn’t have the patience for teasing licks anymore. She tried angling her hips up so he’d get the message but her legs faltered. 

“Woah there.” Roy grabbed onto her with both arms, steading her so she wouldn’t tip over. “Maybe we should…” He tilted his head towards the bed.

“Might be for the best,” she admitted, letting go of Roy so he could stand up. 

Face to face again, Roy slipped his tongue into her mouth, letting her taste herself on him as he walked her till the back of her knees hit the bed and she finally laid down.

With his hands on each thigh and a good forceful push, he shoved her further on the bed, her head against the headboard so he’d have enough space to lay down between her thighs on the edge of the matress. 

“Baby,” Kylie gasped when Roy’s thumb replaced his tongue on her clit, swiping quick circles around and around till she was breathless. Her hips thrust sporadically onto his pointed tongue, white knuckles gripping the sheets the only thing grounding her. 

“Good?” 

Ungodly good. Her whole body was alight, lightheadedness set in, her belly warm with anticipation, her cheeks flushed bright glowing red; all the warning signs that she was about to snap.

“Faster…”

“You’re so-“ he tried humming against her but a firm tug at his hair shut him up again.

“Don’t speak!”

It was all too much, even the way Roy was moaning into her while his hips rolled against the edge of the bed. 

“Just a little more…oh god…” She sucked in a deep breath, bracing herself as waves of overwhelming pleasure crashed down on her, knocking the wind out of her till she was a softly cursing mess.

The way Roy was still trying to toy with her by tentatively licking slow strokes around her clit even after she stopped shaking, although appreciated, had left her overstimulated.

“I need a minute.” Kylie tapped Roy’s shoulder. 

“You okay?” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Well, I’m definitely kicking myself for not doing this sooner.” Roy flashed a cheeky grin, wiping his wet chin off on her thigh. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” She caressed his face, slipping her thumb into his mouth for him to suck on instead, dragging his bottom lip out. “I knew that big mouth of yours would have a good use one day.”

“Bitch.” Roy bit down. 

“Why you son of a!” she hissed.

“What? Little ol’ me with the big mouth?

“If you don’t get your ass up here,” she snarled, sitting up and leaning forward enough that she could brush her lips against his, tempting him with a kiss just out of reach, “so help me…”

Roy eagerly obeyed and not particularly in the mood to mince words, Kylie pushed him down into the bed and straddled his back effortlessly in one swift motion. 

“Knew those redneck Olympics would have a good use one day.” 

“No more talking,” Kylie ordered into his ear, pinning him down with her body weight. 

“Yes, ma’am.” If it wasn’t so cute the way he said it so earnestly she might’ve corrected him again.

She started at his shoulders, digging her thumbs into the sore muscles as her hips subtly rolled down onto him, mimicking the way he pleased himself before she stopped him. 

Her hands moved lower, exploring the taught muscles flexing under her nails. Kneading his ass through his briefs till he tried to reach a hand into his underwear.

“Now you’re just being a cunt,” Roy huffed when she slapped it away. 

She wanted to be generous and let him get off, sure, but not before she could have at least a little bit of fun with him as payback.

“Uh uh,” Kylie tutted. “I’m being a lady, and I’ll take my sweet time if I feel like it.”

Roy dropped his head into the pillow clutched between his fists, a deep annoyed sigh making its way through the fabric. 

“What was that?” she asked, tongue in cheek, but he simply repeated the sigh, louder this time. 

Kylie could tell by the tight black shirts he wore so often on stage in his Instagram reels that Roy, at the very least, kept an eye on his physique after top surgery.

She’d never seen him this naked or this up close, obviously, but she had to admit; she agreed with Roy on his stance about not doing this sooner. 

He’d always been pretty thin but lately his shoulders and back had filled out quite noticeably while his waist and hips stayed as petite as ever, maybe even some new definition in his faint abs if anything.

His tight little ass, however—in his skimpy shorts, she knew it would be irresistible, imagining it as a cute little bubble butt just enough for a fist full each.

Curiosity was getting the better of her and Roy’s sighs had turned to muffled moans by now. She slid off of him and hooked her fingers into his waistband, ready to whip off his underwear in one go till she remembered he had his packer in. 

“Can I take this off too?” Kylie gave his underwear’s waistband a little tug, revealing a faint hint of a tan line above his ass crack. She bit her lip, trying to hide how enticing this little detail was to her.

“Yes! For the love of God!” 

“Just checking,” she lilted innocently, smiling at his impatience. She yanked off his underwear. “Oh!”

“What?” Roy shot up onto his elbows, looking over his shoulder with panic in his eyes.

“I just knew you’d have the cutest little fanny!” Kylie squealed in delight, grabbing a perfect fistful, just as she anticipated, of each cheek, earning an eye roll from Roy. 

At this angle on all fours, ass up with his cheeks and legs spread open, she could see just how practically dripping wet he was. 

“Poor honey bun,” she fawned over him, nails running up and down his sticky inner thighs. “You really are such a mess, huh.”

Roy bit into the pillow, refusing to give her the satisfaction she was looking for, but his legs bending to get closer to her fingers said more than any words ever could. 

Kylie finally showed some compassion and gave his slit a drawn-out lick, all the way from his dick to his hole.

Roy surprised them both when he let out a loud high pitched whimper, quickly throwing his hand over his face, “Oh my god, I am SO sorry.”

“What was that?” Kylie laughed loudly, she leaned on her side to get a good look at where he was hiding his face in the pillow again.

“I don’t know!” Roy admitted, joining in on the laughter. “Nobody’s tongue’s been that far back in a while! I guess it-it took me by surprise maybe?”

“That’s okay, sugar,” she teased in a low voice against his skin, already hovering over the same spot, ready and waiting. “Do you want me to do it again?” 

“Fuck…please,” Roy sighed pushing his hips back against her tongue. 

He reached for his dick again, jerking himself off in the same rhythm Kylie’s tongue had set for them. Desperation palpable with every stroke or every time he’d bounce back against her. 

Maybe if Roy’s muffled groans weren’t so distracting, either one of them would have heard the front door of her apartment opening.

“Hey, Kylie! Have you seen my blue work shirt?” her roommate shouted, clearly shuffling through the apartment. “I need to switch clothes, but I can’t find it-” 

“Fuck!” Kylie jumped off the bed, already throwing on a robe that was sitting on top of a hamper pile nearby. 

“What is she doing here?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know, but I’ll be right back,” she whispered, quickly wiping her mouth off with Roy’s discarded crop top. 

“Hey, that’s—whatever.” He gave up the fight about his shirt being a makeshift cumrag before he could even start. 

While she was dealing with that mess, Roy figured he’d make himself at home. He rolled himself over onto his back and tried to get comfortable, but his erection was by now downright painful.

Just to ease some tension his fingers, lazily slid up and down around his growth till he found a rhythm he liked. Four loud buzzes from his phone on the floor pulled him back to the present. He reached down to pull it from the pocket of his shorts.

Shane J:

Hey

Shane J:

What are you up to?

“Ah fuck,” he sighed. He forgot to say goodbye to Shane before he left and now, clearly bored and/or drunk, he needed some company.

Shane J:

I need you to come over 

Shane J:

I’ve got something to show you

He bit his freshly painted nails, debating what he should do or if he should say something since this situation, as fun as it was, seemed to be over. 

“She’s gone.” 

Maybe not. 

Kylie finally came back in before Roy had time to open the messages, her untied robe already on the floor, ready to get straight to business again. 

“Great.” Roy shoved the phone behind him like a child who’d been caught with it after bedtime. 

“Now,” Kylie purred, climbing over the bed towards him, a huntress on the prowl. She spread his thighs open, threw her left leg over his and with a little repositioning managed to get them pressed together at just the right angle. “Where were we?”

The pressure of her body weight resting on his dick was electrifying, making his hips inadvertently thrust up against her. Finally, he could let go of that breath he’d been holding in.

“That good, baby?” she asked, leaning down to suck on his bottom lip, their hips grinding together in unison.

“I want to fuck you,” Roy whispered into her mouth, his voice practically hoarse with want. 

“Then put it in.” Kylie stilled her hips and leaned back, pulling him with her till their positions were switched. Now with Roy on top and in control. 

His eyes flicked between hers trying to work out what she was planning.

“What?” She slipped her fingers into her mouth, pulling them back out with a thick trail of spit. “Do you need a map?”

She took his dick between the top of her slippery index and middle finger, guiding it just a little lower towards her entrance, and he gasped at the contact. 

“Fu-uck.” His eyes fluttered closed as she pushed his dick into her. He had to pace his breathing to avoid coming right then and there.

It wasn’t particularly deep, but god what he could manage inside felt fan-fucking-tastic. She was tight and wet and absolutely stunning. Especially when she grabbed his ass and wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tightly while pushing up against his thrusts. 

“You never tried this?” she asked softly, her fingers dancing along his well-sculpted chest and around his scarred nipples. 

“Not exactly…” he admitted, looking down between them, slightly embarrassed for not thinking of it sooner. “But better late than never right?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded, progressively struggling to form words as he fucked her harder, needier.  

He could feel the pressure in his stomach building, the possibility of finally getting to come so close, but seeing her fall apart like this a second time was too tempting to pass up. Almost worth edging himself one last time.

His thumb was already rubbing her clit in quick figure eights again in the same way she responded to so well last time, earning louder and more full-throated moans as opposed to her cute little whimpers.

“Oh fuck…” Kylie gasped, throwing her head back onto the bed, her legs trembling as she clung to him for dear life.  “Don’t stop…don’t stop…”

He could feel her tensing from deep in her core, every pulse, every flex around his growth pushing him further into oblivion. Unable to process any coherent thoughts. His hips frantically jerked into her even after her limbs went liquid.

“Keep going,” Kylie whispered, her nails deep into Roy’s ass. 

“Fuck I’m gonna come!” he growled, gritting his teeth, steadying himself on her shoulders. “Are you-“

“Keep going…” she repeated.

“I’m gonna…I-”  He finally came. Unabashedly moaning out any last praises in her name as his whole body ignited, like a high he hadn’t felt before and he wasn’t sure if he could come down from. 

His head full of lights and tingling, his body overheated and overstimulated but he knew he needed more, he needed to come again and fast.

“A little more left in you, Sugar?” Kylie asked sweetly, wiping some sweat from his brow. 

“Yeah,” he panted, desperately fumbling, struggling to find the right spot he had inside her again after he accidentally slipped out. “I just need to, shit, get this right.”

“Do you need help?”

“Fuck this.” 

“C’mere, it’ll be easier,” Roy quickly scooted up to hover over her chest where Kylie waited, resting on her elbows so she’d be the perfect height.

“Jesus…Christ.” He let out another shocked high pitched whimper when her tongue circled his dick. He grabbed her head on either side, guiding it where he wanted her to suck a little harder instead. 

“Don’t bother being gentle,” she purred against him, sending delicious shivers straight through his whole body, fogging up his already oxygen deprived mind even more.

“God, where have you been hiding all my life?” he joked in an effort to regain some control, fucking her face till he turned to jelly.

Legs weak, oversensitive and spent, he finally fell back, laying down opposite her; the both of them giggling at the absurdity of the night’s events that lead them here and the scattered bites and bruises they each showed for it. 

“Boy, that was a blast wasn’t it?” Kylie was the first to speak, again, patting Roy’s sweat-drenched thigh.

“Fuck,” was all he managed, still a chuckle in his voice. “We should do that again sometime.”

“Yeah, some time…” she lulled, feeling around the bed for where her phone had dropped when they walked in earlier. “I mean, it’s only about midnight now, what time do you have to leave?”

“Seriously?” Roy shot up like an overzealous meerkat, looking at her in disbelief. 

“Well?” She shrugged, hooking a leg over his so they were in a perfect scissor position again. “Might need a minute to catch my breath, but you tell me,” she teased, scooting her hips closer so they were touching again.

Both holding onto the other’s hips, they happily melted together again, laying back down to lazily enjoy another round as Roy sighed, “God, I love pride.”

Pride Challenge Points: 7685

[wolfprincesszola]

The Fate of the Marked Six Chapter 4

I need to start queueing these posts because I keep forgetting until it's late~. I hope you guys enjoy and if you do, please reblog this because it helps a lot more than a like would! <3 ——————– Summary: Virgil moves into a new town and meets Roman, a ghost that he promises to help in finding the unfinished business needed to pass over. However, Roman's past seemed to be deeply muddled with trouble, an uncurable disease that has started to affect a classmate, and a certain tight-lipped valedictorian. Friendships are made and Virgil finds himself thrown into a situation far more complicated and twisted than he signed up. Hopefully, with the help of his new five friends, he can find a way to bring peace to the town once and for all.

Trigger Warnings: None

Content Warnings: Slight swearing, intrusive thoughts

<Masterlist>

<Previous> <Next> ——————–

Chapter 04

The problem with Virgil moving to another city was that he had to be the new kid. He hated being the new kid. It meant having to reintroduce himself to every single person that came to talk to him, and having people stare at him in the hallways, the attention was going to be on him for a while, and more.

That was why he put off going to school for the first week, saying he needed more time to adjust to living in their new home and that he would go in afterwards.

It was the day before his supposed start day for school as he was looking through his closet. He heard a voice, “Knock knock knock.”

“Come in.” Virgil pulled his headphones down, turning around to see Roman phase through the wall. Unamused, he put his headphones back on, “You’re here to bug me earlier than usual.”

“Oh come on, Count Woe-laf, the least you could do is listen to me when I come up. I got bored of eavesdropping on your dad's conversations with the neighbor's dad.”

Virgil rolled his eyes as he took off his headphones that weren't playing anything. Having them hung around his neck, he focused his attention on talking to Roman. As much as he hated to admit, Roman was a really good conversationist and often played to his banter. He wasn't a bad person and wasn't a bad friend, but Virgil knew that even if he had promised to help Roman, it didn't mean that he wasn't fully annoyed at Roman bugging him every day.

“Really? That usually keeps you entertained for two more hours.” Virgil finally responded to Roman's comment about being bored.

“Yeah, well they were talking about cars, and you know how I feel about cars.”

Virgil’s lips turned up in a small smile as he remembered about Roman's unfortunate accident, “Do I really? Please…enlighten me.”

Roman scowled, “I didn’t come here to get bullied by you. I just heard that your neighbor goes to the high school you go to. Apparently, he’s the same age as you too.”

“Uh huh…and?”

“Oh come on, I know you’re feeling nervous about this whole new kid thing, but trust me. It’s not that bad. If I remember anything about high school, there’s going to be someone who will go up to you and become friends with you, even if you don’t want to become friends with them.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t even know the town’s view on magic users, or how many there are in this town.” Virgil wasn't even sure if he wanted Roman to be right. As much as it was nice to have someone to talk to as a friend, making friends by itself flagged his anxiety. It seemed like so much work, time, and socialization: three things that Virgil hated the most.

Roman pursed his lips, trying to remember about the town.

“Do you even know what town this is?” Virgil asked, watching Roman try to think of what to say.

“No.” Roman snorted, “Of course I don’t. Do you?”

“Gainsville. This has to be where you died, so why don’t you remember it?”

“What do you mean? I died in my hometown.” Roman snorted.

“What’s your hometown?”

There was a pause as Roman thought about it before his face melded in horror, “I don’t know.”

“How do you not know your hometown?” Virgil sputtered.

“I don’t know. All I know is that I lived in my hometown for my entire life, and I had a family-”

“Specifics about your family, like their names. Did you have any siblings? Grandparents that lived with you?” Chills ran down Virgil's spine. If Roman didn't remember anything about his past, that could mean something really bad happened during his life or that something more sinister was at play.

“...I don’t know.” Roman’s voice cracked as he started to realize that he didn’t know anything. “I know I had a mother and a father. I don’t know their names. I feel like I had a sibling, but I can’t remember who they were or what they looked like. Is that bad?”

Yes. It was very bad. Still, seeing Roman's distressed face put Virgil at unease. As much as he wanted to tell Roman the truth, he knew that the new ghost would probably be more terrified over something new he learned. From the looks of it, Roman still hadn't really gotten the whole 'being a ghost' thing down to a T, so Virgil decided he would tell Roman once the ghost was more comfortable.

“Well…I’ve certainly never run into a ghost that’s forgotten their past, and it’ll make things a little bit harder.” Virgil sighed, hoping that Roman couldn't hear the lie through his teeth.

Luckily, Roman didn't as he asked Virgil for more information. “Things as in…?”

“Finding what your unfinished business is.”

“Oh…” Roman seemed to slump down, clearly upset about it before he shook out of his mood, “Well, nevermind that. I came here to talk to you about going to school since you’re still a bit unsure about the whole socializing thing. I think you’re being a bit too hard on yourself. Just breathe and believe that someone will come up to be friends with you.”

“I don’t know…” Virgil murmured.

“Do you want me to join you? I can just float around and keep you company during your classes.” Roman offered.

That would be amusing, but Virgil knew that if Roman was beside him, it would probably make the principal lock Virgil away into the asylum. Virgil had a tendency to forget that ghosts were not something everyone could see, so it would be even worse in school. Again, he also wasn't sure about the amount of magic users and how they treated magic overall in the town.

“No, thank you.” Virgil exhaled a small laugh, “There could be mediums at the school and I don’t want them to judge me right away.”

Roman pouted, “But what am I going to do all day if you’re not here to keep my company?”

“My parents are home for half the day, and the other half, there are things such as the internet.” Virgil remarked, “It’s not your fault you haven’t learned how to interact with items yet.”

“I can interact with items?” Roman gaped, going to Virgil’s desk to try and pick up a pencil.

Virgil snorted as he watched Roman struggle to even make contact with the pen, the pen just phasing through his hand. “I wish I could help, but it looks like you’ve got the whole learning thing covered. See? You have something to do while I’m still at school.”

“Will you be okay there?” Roman asked, turning towards the boy and genuinely asking him.

“I will. Will you be okay here?”

“By the end of tomorrow, I will have figured out how to pick up a pen.” Roman gave a loopy smile to his friend.

“I doubt that, but I wish you luck.” Virgil saluted Roman.

-+=~=+-

When Virgil was dropped off at his school, he couldn’t help but agree with his mother about how fancy his new school was. Although it wasn’t private, the sheer size of the buildings and the way people presented themselves made it seem like they were.

Rushing into the school, it was clear the school had a system that Virgil wasn’t aware of because he almost got run over by a group of teenage boys racing through the halls. The only thing that stopped him was a pair of arms that pulled him out of the way.

Virgil turned around as he heard a boy's voice chirp in, "Woah! Careful there!"

The boy had a light-blue polo shirt with a grey cardigan that hung around his shoulders and a backpack hung from his right shoulder. He was smiling as he adjusted the black glasses on his face and stared at Virgil in front of him. "You okay there, kiddo?"

Virgil just nodded at the boy who was the same age as him. Instead of pointing out how the boy talked as if he was a middle-aged dad, Virgil just whispered out a "thank you".

“Don’t sweat it.” The boy shrugged, “You must be new here.”

“Yeah. That obvious?” Virgil pulled the sleeves from his jackets up, playing with the fringes as he desperately wanted the conversation to end. It wasn't the boy's fault. He seemed nice enough, but Virgil wasn't much of a conversationist. It was times like these where Virgil wondered about how Roman would fare in these scenarios and if he would hit it off better than Virgil was currently doing.

“Unfortunately.” He offered his hand out for a handshake, “The name’s Patton.”

“Virgil.” Virgil shook his hand before the two heard a bell sound off. The hallways seemed to almost be cleared, a few kids lingering. “Shouldn’t you be getting to class?”

“Two minute bell. I can spare those two minutes. Is there anywhere you need me to help you find?” Patton asked, kindness flowing through his words. He had nothing but the best intentions, Virgil could tell.

“If you really have time, the front office would be nice.” Virgil was relieved that someone had offered to help his because he was almost about to stumble through the hallways until he was able to find them. He would sacrifice some socialization if it meant that he didn't have to have a mental breakdown trying to find any of his classes or the front office.

“It’s right over there.” Patton pointed to the door right across from where they were looking.

Before Virgil could say anything, the two heard someone coming down the hall, and a teenage boy threatened Patton, “Morris, class?”

“Right, I’ve got to go. I hope you know where to go?” Patton smiled at Virgil. It looked almost as if his smile could be contagious from how happy he always seemed.

"Yeah, thanks." Virgil shrugged, watching Patton run to class before turning his attention to the boy who had threatened Patton.

The boy seemed to be even more formal than Patton with a black button-up, a tie, slicked hair, and black glasses that matched Patton's. He got to the point, staring at Virgil, "You must be Virgil Gray, the new kid. My name is Logan Sanders and I am the valedictorian of our class. I can show you the way around campus."

Logan's speech was all formal and apathetic too. Virgil wondered if the boy ever felt anything since the roboticism and formality seemed to take over Logan's entire personality.

“Don’t you have class?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. He doubted that Logan needed the classes anyways, being the valedictorian and all, but considering the boy had just scolded Patton for being late to class, it was making Virgil wonder.

"The principal asked me to show you around, so I was excused." Logan cleared his throat, "Let’s get you your schedule first and then I can give you the tour.”

Virgil nodded in agreement, following close behind Logan who had started to walk ahead towards where Patton had motioned for the front office. When they walked in, there was a desk where a lady sat, who Virgil could only assume was the secretary. Although she had no nametag, she was nice to him, helping Virgil with the classes right away.

“Alright, you’re all set. I’m guessing our lovely valedictorian is going to show you around.”

“You guessed correctly.” Logan replied, grabbing a binder on the side of the secretary’s desk, “I’ll return this on the tour.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet, honey. Thank you.” The secretary gave a small smile towards Logan.

"It's no problem, Ms. Inug." Logan nodded, forcing a smile on his face that looked almost unnatural. Virgil wanted to pour water onto Logan to see if he'd short-circuit, but wasn't brave enough to do so. They walked out soon after that, walking out back towards the hallway they first met.

Logan turned towards Virgil after stopping in the middle, “Most new kids don’t want the school tour. I’m asking you if you want it, or if you want to go to class right now.”

“What happens if I take the tour?”

“You skip your first period, I take you to your second, and you continue your day from then.”

“Do I need to know anything first?” Virgil asked, looking at his schedule. Math. In the start of the day. He hated math.

“You have Mr. Davidson. As much as I'd like to pride our school in having excellent teachers, Mr. Davidson doesn't seem to enjoy teaching and often relies on ineffective and outdated ways to teach a class."

So Virgil wasn't going to learn anything in math, if Virgil had interpreted Logan's words correctly. That was good, at least. He hated math.

“I’ll take the tour.”

"Then follow me." Logan replied as he walked around, giving short commentary on where they were, as well as a bit of background. The more into the school they got, the more clear it was that Logan knew the school like the back of his hand. He talked about rumors and legends that happened in the cafeteria, as well as the more prominent people in their grade.

Once their tour was done and Logan had made a quick stop to drop off the binder at the correct classroom, the two sat in the empty cafeteria, waiting for the bell to ring for Virgil to go to his second period. Virgil, noticing how quiet Logan liked to be, decided to break the ice.

“Who should I look out for?”

“In terms of what?”

“In terms of I shouldn’t piss them off or even bother talking to them.”

Logan looked up, thinking about it for a while, “Remus Porter is the king of the school. You piss him off, you have no more social life. Janus Wright is his best friend. You piss Janus off, you piss Remus off. Remus is really easy to be friends with, although most people don't stick around to listen to him talk. Just don’t piss off Janus.”

“Yikes. Is Janus a hard person to please?”

“No. If you’re quiet, he'll be okay with you. He doesn’t like loud people.”

“Okay.” Virgil took note of all that, “What about you? As a valedictorian, I’d assume you have a lot of influence.”

“I don’t let people get the better of me.” Logan murmured as he looked at the time on the watch. “The period is ending in a few minutes, so let’s start walking to avoid the crowd.”

Virgil stood up, following Logan, “Thanks for taking me around.”

“Of course.” Logan shrugged, as if it was known he would do anything anyone asked, “It’s just what I do.”

“What? Help people?”

“Yes.”

“Now, kiddo, you know lying's wrong.” A new voice remarked.

The two turned to see Patton walking behind them, raising an eyebrow at Logan.

“Shouldn’t you be in class, Morris?” Logan challenged, crossing his arms. Virgil noticed how quick Logan was to avoid the question.

“Bathroom pass.” Patton showed the pass wrapped around his arm, “Can’t bust me yet, Sanders. I just wanted to see how our new duckling was doing.”

Virgil became hypersensitive at the mention of Roman’s last name, unsure of why that was Logan’s nickname.

“Don’t call him that.” Logan scowled, “Go back to your class.”

“Oh you know you love me.” Patton grinned, “You can join us at lunch, Virgil, if you want.”

“I’m not included in this ‘us’.” Logan scoffed. “I’ll be seeing you in detention today. Don’t forget it.”

“Got it. See you two later.” Patton remarked as he walked away, going back to his class.

“You don’t seem too fond of him.” Virgil remarked.

“Patton Morris’s a class clown. To me, it means I have to clean up all of his messes. As long as I’ve known him, I don’t think there’s any way for the two of us to get along, especially when we’re such jarring opposites.”

“He seems nice though.”

“No comment.” Logan replied as he stopped at a classroom, “I’ll see you later in fourth. Are there any questions before I go?”

Virgil thought about it, the back of his head nagging to ask about if Logan’s surname was Sanders. However, he just shook his head, deciding against treading somewhere where he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to know.

-+=~=+-

Virgil walked into his English class, expecting his teacher to be chill when it was the exact opposite. Walking in, he was greeted by a chirpy “Hello”. Virgil gave a small awkward smile before his English teacher stared at his before gasping, “You must be Virgil, the new kid.”

Virgil winced at how loud his teacher was, “Yeah…”

“Oh gosh, I saw you on the roster, but I couldn’t believe it. It’s free seating everywhere, but I want you to-”

“Miss Loanes, leave the new kid alone.” A guy walking into the class snorted, “I love your enthusiasm, but half the class could not and would not care if they walked up and spent the entire class period talking about themselves.”

His English teacher paused before sighing, “You’re right, Remus.”

“New kid, sit with me.” Remus flashed a smile, offering the seat across from him. There was already a quiet guy sitting there with a face mask covering the bottom half of his face. From what Virgil could see, the guy had a scar on the left side of his face that he was trying to hide with spots of makeup and the face mask.

“What’s your name?” Remus grinned at Virgil expectantly.

“Virgil. You’re Remus, right?”

“I am him.” Remus confirmed, motioning to the boy he sat next to, ‘This is Janus, my best friend.”

Virgil remembered vaguely about what Logan said to not piss them off, “I’ve heard that you two are an undefeatable pair of best friends.”

“Untrue. He’s just a loud asshole who won’t stop talking to me.” Janus finally spoke, crossing his arms, “And he’s powerless too. I mean…pick a struggle, Remus.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Okay, like you’re any different. You’re powerless too.”

Virgil watched Janus’s eyes flicker to Remus’s forehead as if he was staring at a mark, and Virgil looked there, expecting there to be a sharpie mark or something. There was nothing. It was clear Janus wasn't letting onto his powers. Whatever his power was, it was the most clear on Remus.

“Do you have powers?” Janus asked, “If I may ask.”

“Uh…” Virgil dragged out, wondering if he should lie or not. However, by the way that they seemed genuinely interested and not like they were going to capitalize on powers, he decided to be truthful. “I’m a medium. I can see ghosts.”

“Wait, really?” Remus’s face melded into interest, “How does that work? Can you hear them? Can you touch them? Can you-”

Janus cut Remus off before the boy could say anything more, "Let's not freak out the new kid just yet, Remus."

"You're no fun, Jan." Remus pouted, but still left the sentence unfinished.

Although confused, Virgil just moved on, hoping that Remus wasn't going to ask what Virgil thought Remus was going to ask. "Well, when ghosts die, there are some who have unfinished business. Those ghosts reside in between the spiritual world and the real world, and so they are in our world, but no one but mediums can see them. There are some mediums that can reach into the spirit world and talk to those ghosts, but I’m only the type of medium who can see ghosts with unfinished business. They can only move onto the next world once they finish their business.”

“How do they know their unfinished business?”

“They don’t. Most ghosts spend thousands of years trying to figure out what it is. Sometimes it’s getting their name in headlights, and sometimes it’s making things up with family members. I try to help as many ghosts as I run across to return to the spiritual world.”

"Ooh, has any of the ghosts' wishes ever been to watch someone shove a butt-"

"Remus Porter." Janus glared at his best friend, "What did I say about not freaking out your newfound friend?"

Although Janus had interrupted Remus before the boy could finish, Virgil could guess what Remus wanted to ask and he now understood why Logan said most people don't stick around long enough for Remus to talk.

"Hey, Jan, unlike you, I don't hide anything." Remus grinned.

"Clearly." Virgil grumbled as he desperately tried to erase any of the thoughts implanted into his head from Remus.

"You seem cool.” Janus remarked, “If you want to, there’s a place for you to sit with us at lunch.”

“Thanks." Virgil nodded. Although it seemed that the pair were weird, they seemed to be more together than most of the people at the school. They knew who they were and weren't ashamed of their place in high school. Virgil knew that they would probably be Virgil's go-to people to sit. "Patton also told me that. Apparently he likes to sit with Logan?”

Remus giggled. “No way. Valedictorian Logan Sanders?”

“Yeah, why? Is it that unbelievable?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. He had seen how much Logan was exasperated around Patton, but Patton didn't seem to have any ill intent or ill feelings towards Logan.

"Patton's been Logan's enemy since he first entered this building day 1. Logan was asked to show Patton around, since he was the principal’s son. He showed up to lunch doused in ketchup because Patton thought it would be funny to dump it on him after Logan mentioned loving tomatoes. It was meant to be a lighthearted prank and had it been anyone else in the school, it would've been fine. However, something snapped in Logan and he stopped telling people anything about himself after that. In fact, he stopped being friends with people after that." Janus remarked.

“Why?”

“Don’t know. All I know is that I don’t need to piss off the principal’s son anytime soon because he has power, both as a stepping stone to getting expelled, and a stepping stone towards getting hundreds of detention hours.”

“Got it, so don’t mess with Logan.”

“Don’t mess with the Sanders. I’ve heard his brother is pretty nasty too. Don’t know anything about him though because Logan never talks about his life.”

“Interesting.” Virgil noted the fact that Logan’s last name was also Sanders. However, once Virgil realized that Logan looked nothing like Roman, all of his logic was figuratively thrown out the window.

Before anyone could say anything more, the bell had rung and the three had to be quiet as they listened to the lecture.

-+=~=+-

The cafeteria was chaotic during lunch. Virgil had packed lunch, just in case he didn’t like the menu, as he was very stubborn in food. However, it was the direct opposite why he was glad he packed lunch. The options seemed so amazingly good, but they were all gone by the time he walked into the cafeteria.

Walking into the cafeteria, he glanced around aimlessly until he heard a voice.

“Virgil!”

He looked to where the voice was calling his to see Remus waving and smiling. Janus seemed to be staring, almost embarrassed and trying to get Remus to stop. They were both sitting at the table in the middle, with no one around them but everyone was still staring at them. Remus was currently eating his plate while Janus was playing a game on his phone.

Virgil just walked over, going over to sit with them.

“You bring lunch?” Remus asked, “What did you bring?”

“Pasta.” Virgil shrugged, “But the food options look amazing.”

“Here.” Janus pushed his plate towards Virgil, “I don’t like any of it. Remus always makes me get an extra plate because he’s hoping one day I’ll eat at school. He always eats my plate at the end of the day, but I’m afraid that he pretends like he’s not too full by the end of it. Spare the both of us.”

Virgil gave a small smile, grabbing it, “Thank you, Janus.”

Janus shrugged, going back to his game, “Let me know if you have any allergies next time. I can get lunch for you.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay. I’ll see if I can arrive early to grab it-”

“No, that’s not how this lunch thing works. It always gets sold out before the bell even rings. Trust me, we have a system to even get it. Let my little pogchamp get it for you.” Remus remarked, ruffling Janus' hair

“You call me that again and I’ll break your dick in half like a glowstick.” Janus threatened as he didn’t bother to even look up, continuing with playing the game on his phone.

“Alright, thanks, Janus.”

"Do you have room for another two?" A familiar voice came through.

The three looked up to see Patton grinning, holding Logan's collar behind him. Logan had his arms crossed as he was holding a clipboard and pencil.

“Sure.” Remus shrugged, making room for the two of them on the side Janus and him were on. Patton took the offer, but Logan went to sit next to Virgil, taking out a worksheet.

“Our one and only valedictorian. So studious.” Patton remarked with a genuine awe laced. It was clear to Virgil that Patton looked up to Logan a lot, even if it may not have been requited.

“He dragged me out of my club meeting.” Logan seemed annoyed, “Said they could run it without the president.”

“You have no trust in your board members.” Patton argued.

“I have all the trust in them! I have zero trust in you.” Logan glared as he worked on his math.

“Cookie?” Virgil offered the pissed off boy the chocolate chip cookie, which Logan gladly took.

“Thank you, Virgil.” He grumbled, going back to working on his homework.

“How's your first day been?” Patton asked, changing the subject.

“Good. Chaotic, but good. I made a couple new friends today.” Virgil nodded.

Patton flashed a smile, “I hope it’s the five of us here today.”

“Yeah.” Virgil cleared his throat, trying to hide his flush.

“Stop doing your homework for one second, Sanders, and pay attention to the conversation.” Patton swiped away Logan’s homework, leaving Logan to death-glare him. Patton's tone reminded Virgil of almost like a disappointed dad.

“I thought you said you don’t let people get the better of you.” Virgil remarked.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t thinking of Patton Morris when I said it.” Logan rolled his eyes, pulling out a yellow slip of paper, writing Patton’s name on it and giving it to him. “Virgil, have you seen the rest of the city, or met anyone else around these parts?”

“No, why?”

“Well, it is a small city. You are bound to know people.” Logan shrugged, “I was just wondering because if not, you should check out the museum downtown. They finally added a few new sections.”

“What? Really? Why didn’t we hear about it?” Patton perked up, “I love the downtown museum. We should all go there and check it out one day.”

"I don't know, Patton." Janus raised an eyebrow, "We're all not that great of friends."

"This is a great way to make us friends! We would get to know each other.”

"Ooo, in that case, count me in." Remus grinned, wiggling his shoulders in interest, "We could list all the different ways you could kill someone in alphabetical order while we're there."

Patton's eyes widened at the thought of that and Janus sighed as he tried to de-escalate Patton's reaction, "To spare everyone's sanity, Remus and I will not be doing that."

“That sounds like anxiety and socialization I’m not prepared for. I’ll pass.” Virgil replied.

“Count me out.” Logan made a face, “I don’t get close to people.”

“Wow, what an ass-.” Patton snorted as he saw Logan standing up, clearly going to take care of responsibilities elsewhere. "-sset."

Virgil didn't know that Patton made jokes, let alone jokes like that. He had to hide a smile begging to break through. It was clear the rest of the group was doing the same.

“Like I can’t say the same about you.” Logan remarked back, fixing his glasses before walking away.

“I think it’d still be nice if we planned it.” Patton offered, “Besides, I don’t have many close friends. It’s kinda sad how Logan’s so close to me that he’s my best friend, but he won't even talk to me. Maybe if I get to know you guys, I’ll have better friends.”

“You keep pissing off Logan. It’s not our fault that he hates you.” Janus snorted, “If I had someone who did everything he could to stop me from doing stuff I wanted to do, I’d probably be pissed off too.”

“Hey, you do have that!” Patton motioned to Remus.

“Hey! You’re right! Why didn't you mention me?” Remus pouted.

"Sorry." Janus rolled his eyes, "The difference is that Remus and I have come to an understanding. You create messes for Logan that he has to clean up."

Patton slumped down, thinking about it, "Oh man...do I?"

“I don’t think the problem is that you keep annoying him, but I just think that you guys don’t work together because you guys are so different. He's quiet, you’re loud. Everyone loves you, everyone hates him. He's the valedictorian so he’s super serious all the time, and you’re the class clown who I've heard makes a lot of puns. Of course you guys are going to always go head in head.” Virgil offered.

“He's smart. I’m officially adopting his as mine.” Janus replied, putting his phone down to make eye contact with Virgil.

Seconds later, his eyes shifted to Virgil’s forehead, where Virgil touched, worried that something landed there.

“Ah, sorry, I thought I saw something. It was nothing.” Janus murmured as he looked away.

“I’m down to go!” Remus grinned, “Janus, I don’t care what you say, but you’re coming too.”

“Great.” Janus’s voice was deadpan.

“I’ll find a way to get Logan to come.” Patton grinned, “Leave it to me and the six remaining hours he has to spend with me in detention.”

“Why is he spending detention with you? I thought he was the valedictorian.” Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Being the principal’s son means he gets a lot of responsibility that teachers aren’t willing to put in themselves. It saves on money, and Logan can write it off as responsibilities of being valedictorian.” Patton explained.

“That leads to a higher standard for the next valedictorian. The teachers will have to go back once Logan graduates.” Virgil frowned.

“Yeah, well, it’s rough for the Sanders. Apparently it was the same with his brother.” Janus murmured, “There’s always been a rumor that’s spread around that there’s a reason his brother isn’t seen around the city anymore, the reason being that he was sick of everything.”

“Is this just known information? Should we be talking about it?” Virgil didn't feel comfortable in this situation. He felt as if he shouldn't be talking about it.

“Logan knows about everything. There’s no doubt he also knows the rumors that surround his family.” Remus remarked.

“Does anyone know his brother’s name?” Virgil asked.

Everyone shrugged, “No one talks about him. Not even the Sanders family. It’s almost as if he disappeared from existence for them.”

“Really?”

“Actually, I used to be really good friends with Logan.��� Janus shrugged, “He was really open all the time, and happy. he was loud and he felt like himself. He was still a nerd, but he was happy and proud about it. Then…around middle school, something happened and he stopped doing everything he used to do. He stopped being loud and himself, and instead became closed off. He stopped talking to people outside of schoolwork. He started working harder on stuff, and didn’t go anywhere if it wasn’t to study. He just became a recluse after middle school.”

“You think it has anything to do with his brother?” Patton asked.

A throat cleared caught everyone's attention. The four turned around to see Logan standing, unamused, "You should know…it’s not very nice to talk about rumors behind someone’s back.”

Speechless, the four could only stare at Logan as if he had caught them in an intricate web of lies. Guilt crawled up Virgil's spine, knowing that he should've stopped everyone from talking about it. However, Logan seemed to be the most embarrassed out of all of them as he walked up to Patton.

"Apologies. I had forgotten about my Calculus homework that Patton had grabbed out of my hand." Logan murmured as he held his hand out for Patton. Patton was quick to give Logan his things and he started to walk away.

No one said anything as they watched Logan walk away. At least until Logan broke the silence once more upon halting in his tracks and turning back to them. His cheeks were flushed and it was the first time Virgil ever saw any real emotion on Logan's face. He seemed upset almost.

"I don't care if you do speculate on my life, or about my family. Just...please, whatever you say, leave my brother out of it."

Logan turned on his heel and walked out of the classroom before he could even get confirmation from the others. Once he was gone though, Patton's expressions flooded with sadness and guilt. "Logan's never sounded so desperate. He always has a polite or authoritative tone."

"Right...well, you heard the boy. No more talking about his brother." Janus exhaled a sharp breath as he stood up, "Come on, Re. Let's get to our own math class before you start speaking about more gore."

“Coming!” Remus packed up as fast as possible, bounding towards the boy who had already started walking.

“Which way are you going?” Patton grinned, turning his full attention to Virgil. “I’ll walk you there.”

Virgil uncrumpled the paper he had shoved into his pocket to look at the last class of the schedule, "Art."

“We should go before the crowd picks up when the bell rings.”

The two walked in silence the entire way to the class, until Virgil broke the silence, “Hey Patton?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think Logan has a power that makes him scared of getting close to people? Maybe that’s why he stopped talking to Janus.”

“Hm, maybe.” Patton smiled, “I’ll ask today, but I doubt it. I think he has magic. I just…don’t think he uses his power ever.”

“Really?”

“Trust me. I can feel it when people have powers.”

“Do you really know?”

“Yes, I do, Mr. Boy With Powers.” Patton remarked as he walked away, right as Virgil stopped by his classroom. ————– Patton may not make as many puns in this fic since it's so hard for me to make puns, forgive meeeee T-T, but ooooo, I love characterization and learning about backstories. Also 5/6 of the gang are together now and we get more insight into the dynamics of everyone~

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging! Reblogging helps me a lot and are very appreciated. Check out my masterlist for more, feel free to request any writings, and stick around if you want to see the rest of what I have in store for this! :)

[dunefandomevents]

Dune Mini Bang

Artist Sign Ups open in 2 weeks!

Artist Sign Up / Art Claims - July 1st - until all stories are claimed Check In 2 - July 14th Rough Draft Due - Aug 18th Posting Claims  - Aug 18th - Aug 25th Posting Schedule Announced - Aug 26th Final Drafts/Art Due - Aug 31st Posting Starts - Sept 3rd

GENERAL FAQ

What is the Dune Mini Bang? A Mini Bang (or Big Bang) is a collaboration between writers and artists who work together to produce fandom-inspired content, in this case Dune, and share it with the world. A writer and an artist are paired up, the writer well writes and the artist will create some form of visual content to go along with their story. The work is then posted together on a selected date at the end of the writing period.

Where can I post my fics/art? Stories and art can be posted to your own personal journal, Tumblr, ff-net, AO3, or wherever you like. For those of you with AO3 accounts, we will set up a collection that will go live on the day of the posting. If you don’t currently have an AO3 account but would like one, you can contact the mods for an invitation code to see if they have any available. You can also add yourself to the AO3 Invites Request queue.

For posting on other social media platforms, such as tumblr or twitter, please tag duneminibang2023 and @dunefandomevents , spread the word!

When do I start posting? We will open the posting date claims ahead of the close date. How many days it will be spread out will depend on how many writers we have signed up. If your story is multi-chaptered it does not need to be posted all at once, you should start posting chapters early so the story can be listed as completed by your posting date. You will be able to select a preference for where in the queue you are but ultimately your posting date will be selected by the moderation team.

What platform are these being advertised/posted on? AO3 will host the main archive collection - The collection will be created and ready to go for the Sept 3rd posting start date. Tumblr - Used for advertising signups and after posting starts we will cross post all stories to a masterlist. Twitter - Used for advertising signups and after posting starts we will be cross posting -  Linking AO3 collection / Tumblr masterpost. Reddit - Will be used for advertising signups.

What if I have issues or concerns with my artist/author? Sometimes authors and artists do not get along and this may cause problems with working together. If this happens to be the case with you, please email or contact the mods on Discord and we will try to do what we can so that everyone has a chance to have fun!

If you have not heard from your author/artist in some time after trying to contact them, you can reach out to us via email/discord and we will try to get in touch with them for you.

Extensions? I am pretty attached to the idea of starting posting on the anniversary of the Dune Premiere at the Venice Film Festival on Sept 3rd but if you really really need one please email the mods as soon as possible. One easy option would be to select one of the later posting dates but if that doesn't work we may allow a few extra days.

Can I drop out? We have high hopes that everybody who signs up can actually finish the round and share in the joy of the reveal with us, but real life can unfortunately get in the way and we completely understand! If you feel like you just cannot finish in time and no amount of assistance from us can help you, just let us know by asap! Ideally we would wish to know before artist claims have opened.

Is it possible to be banned? Yes it is. The following events will result in being removed from the event and a one event ban on next year; Lying about your age in order to gain access to the 18+ content Hate on another participant for their ship/character/content - we are allowing ALL content for the mini bang. Hate on another participant for any reason really Failure to meet the event requirements

ARTIST FAQ

Minimum/Maximum requirements for art? There is no strict minimum, but we do ask artists to remember that the authors are writing a minimum of 5,000 words and your artwork should reflect that. You can do anything you like, including banners, wallpapers, icons, mixes, vids, gif sets, picspams, etc. Suggested guidelines for art are 500x500px (or equivalent of smaller pieces like banner + spacers, cover + icons, etc.) for traditional art, digital art, and manips around 3 - 5hrs; 2 minutes for vids; 10 songs + cover art for mixes; and 6 images for gif sets and picspams. We also ask that when you are in contact with the author, you work with them to see if there is anything specific they would like (i.e. a wallpaper, book cover, etc.). The art is your work, but having ideas doesn’t hurt!

At this time we will NOT be allowing AI Art. There are a lot of reasons for this. If you have questions please send a mod a message!

What are art claims? Artists sign-ups and art claims are the same thing; we use one form for both things, and that way the artists don’t sign up for an event they may not end up participating in. Writers will have submitted 2 short excerpts from their story for artists to read and get a feel for the work. It is based on a 'first come, first served’ and artists may choose up to three potential stories (in case their first choice is unavailable). If there are more stories than artists, there will be a second round of claims wherein artists may choose a second story to work with. And on until all stories are claimed for art.

If a fic up for claiming is rated explicit (R, NC-17, etc.), please only claim the story if you are over 18 years of age. Some authors may be uncomfortable working with underage artists on explicit works. We do not verify ages in any way for the bang, so this is solely on the honor system. Artists are encouraged to join the discord server and follow along with everyone a head of the artist claims being opened.

[pet-genius]

I think I know why some people hate Snape so vehemently and not Voldemort or Bellatrix. Snape as an adversary is much more relatable to them. Everyone knows how it sucks to have a mean teacher who picks on you. The reality of what it takes to be a spy in a war is lost on them. I’m happy for them, truly. I wish the reality of ethnic cleansing was far remote for me, too, so far remote it would sound like a scary fairytale. That’s what it is for them. They don’t feel any particular anger at Voldemort killing Harry’s parents, because they can’t imagine themselves in Harry’s shoes in that situation. They don’t feel angry about Bellatrix torturing Neville’s parents, too, because it’s very far removed from their reality. Unfortunately when you are in that reality, it quickly becomes clear who is the hero and who is not. I bet they would be surprised to realise that almost no one is willing to risk their life for someone they don’t like. I feel very angry each time I see a post like ‘Harry should’ve not called his son Severus, Snape does not deserve it”. In reality, a queue of people willing to die for you so you can pick and choose and evaluate their moral values does not exist. And I mean die for you in a literal sense. I wish they understood the gravity of those situations. I wish I never did. I’m sorry for the rant. I think it’s been brewing a lot in my head lately, but I don’t want to post it on main and deal with people who know nothing about what’s it like to be in a war.

First of all, I'm so sorry all of this has happened to you and yours. I definitely agree that people have absolutely no perspective on the stress Snape was taking on, which, regardless of his initial moral purity, would have come out somehow, so it's kind of absurd to expect him to worry about not hurting children's feelings when he knows what they'll be up against and worries they won't be ready. This is all setting aside the different educational norms in the 1990s and in the magical world in general.

Harry hates Snape because he is worried about Snape's allegiance, and he has plausible reason to. When Harry learns the truth he changes his opinion. The fact is that, as you said, taking on the most dangerous job in the order was absolutely not obvious and it merits all the gratitude and honor in the world. Never mind that this also honors Lily, since Sirius got a name, so why not the man who proved how much he loved Lily?

Anyway, yeah. I hope you'll be safe, and your anon really touched my heart.