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#just a lil something bc I’m useless today and can’t draw :
rapidhighway · 2 years
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can’t heal it :/
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imnotcameraready · 5 years
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chivalry is dead (20)
A/N: BIG YEEHAW HOURS TODAY Y’ALL ITS BALL TIME!!!!!!! AND WE CAN’T HAVE A BALL WITHOUT A PRINCE *stars bawling*
costumes will come in another post bc i. got really excited and then drew them all like, last month (most of them, some were finished last night y e e et)
WARNINGS: remus mention, heist details, wound descriptions, sword mention, scar descriptions, threats of violence, thoughts of dying — alright, im pretty sure that's it, but this chapter has thicc details so if i missed anything pls pls pls lmk
Words: 4550
AO3 link!
MASTERPOST! <– look here!! for the longterm warnings!! including sympathetic Deceit and cursing/swearing!
enjoy !!! <3 <3 <3 ,3 <3 
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Deceit really was right, Patton thought while he looked around at the town. His arm was linked around Logan’s as they walked down one of the town’s side streets, from Dr. Picani’s office, and he was taking the time to admire how intricate all of the architecture had gotten. It was intricate and worn and every building seemed unique now, something that he hadn’t realized was missing during their first pass through. 
There were arch ways, bridges between doors on the third floors of buildings. There were seemingly hand-woven canvases shielding some of the streets from the sun and, if Patton squinted hard enough, he could see actual detailed stitching and some stains of age. They passed buildings that had scratches and chisel marks, and Patton could clearly see that it was made from stone bricks that had been painted over. Twice, actually. Once with a very old and faded blue, then with a lighter cream that still let the blue show through in spots where the paint was gone. 
He wondered a little what had caused those spots. Was it because you weren’t supposed to layer house paint? The spots were different sizes — how many memories were made here? 
Patton stumbled, tripping over his thoughts and heels, and leaned more into Logan’s side.
Logan tugged at his arm. “Don’t ponder too hard, Patton,” his voice was soft, hushed to not draw attention.
They’d figured that the best thing to do was to not think about the world around them. Thinking too much about the world and specifically the things that they would affect about it made their focus wander onto fixing those things. Logan would get a headache, Patton would space out, and Deceit would….well, okay, Deceit hadn’t disclosed how and if he’d been affected. But Patton noticed he’d been sweating like a sinner in church, and how his fist would clench every so often, so it was clear that something was happening with Deceit. He didn’t want to force him to talk; honesty wasn’t Deceit’s strong suit.
The four Romans had agreed that that was the smartest decision; none of them nor all of them together were able to limit the Imagination enough. The Playwright had argued that, had Dragon and Damsel known that it was hurting the other Sides, then they would probably all have a unified thought enough to close up the unused worlds. But that would require discussing the entire matter with them, which, as the Thief pointed out, is “pretty fucking useless where they are now.” 
So the focus thing was their current strategy. Patton grinned at Logan. “Thanks for the reminder, Octo-cutie-pie,” he smiled wider as Logan blushed. 
“I–I’m–Octopi is the plural for octopus and there is only one of me,” Logan bit his lip, then patted Patton’s hand gently, “Thank you.”
Patton giggled, snuggling against Logan’s side briefly as they kept walking. They hadn’t actually talked about the whole love thing, hadn’t really established boundaries, but that seemed like a problem for tomorrow. 
Right now, they were all going across town, invitations in hand, to the ball. And, at the very specific right now, Patton was admiring the Playwright and the Artist’s handiwork. They’d worked together to make everyone’s outfits and he’d be a liar if he said they weren’t handsome and beautiful.
Patton himself was themed after a cat — a grey cat, but a cat nonetheless! His dress had a long train for a tail, made of shimmering silver tulle, the same as his poofy sleeves. The skirt went from his waist to the ground, with a built in flair in his corset at the waist. Like, all of it was sparkling, all three tiers of his skirt, which went from grey to black with an inner layer gradient of blue to grey. His favorite part were his gloves, though. Silver for the most part, but with soft circles on his palms and the tips of all his fingers. His own lil’ toe beans! 
Logan’s outfit was one of Patton’s favorites. His was themed after an octopus (“Known for their intelligence,” the Playwright had explained, face bright red as he tied Logan’s necktie into an Eldritch knot) with a dark blue blazer and slacks. He wore a vest that shimmered royal blue, with a white button down underneath. There was a piece of coral in his lapel where a flower would usually go, and his coat tails seemed to spiral in shapes that resembled an octopus’ arms. There were even rhinestone bubble decals on his shoulders, or suckers, if you wanted to interpret it that way. The Artist and the Playwright had a small argument about that.
He was dashing, in summation. Patton leaned his head against Logan’s shoulder. “Who knew the town was so big!” he said. 
“That’s actually on purpose,” the Playwright said from behind them, “It’s actually not so big as the castle is small, using the same foreshortening techniques used at the Disney theme parks to make Cinderella’s castle, or Sleeping Beauty’s castle depending on which park you’re at—”
“I think he means how far Picani’s office is from the castle, God Mod,” the Thief responded.
The Thief and Deceit were walking in front, swords drawn on the chance that they ran into any guards, and so that the Thief could critique Deceit’s sword fighting skills. Surprisingly, he’d taken to the weapon, something about it being good to have at his disposal while dealing with the Others. The Thief offered to make him one once this escapade was over. 
Or maybe it was an excuse for the Thief to keep touching Deceit’s hand. Because that was happening every so often. A lot more often than would be considered normal. 
It wasn’t like Deceit was complaining about the touching. It was more the other way around. The yearning for physical contact was frustrating, but neither of them were going to admit that they wanted to hold hands. Even though they’d confessed to at least caring about each other. 
“Oh,” the Playwright hummed.
“Cheer up, butter cup, I love hearin’ bout the forced perspective! The Disney parks are so~o~o fun,” the Bard sang out. “When’s the next time we get to go to California? Are we making a trip down to Anaheim? Can we PLEASE take a trip down to Anaheim!”
One of his arms was looped around the Playwright’s, while the other was looped around the Artist’s. They had settled on outfits that complemented each other’s, pulling from the same red and black color palette.
The Artist was the only of the trio in a suit, though his outfit could be considered the loudest. Buttoned down the middle with a high collar, half of his shirt was a solid black, while the other half was a diamond checkered pattern. All of the accents were gold, and his pants were half solid red and half checkered as well. Tonight, the Artist would be a jester. 
An improvement on his self-esteem, the Bard had thought. The Artist had said so, too, saying he’d be dressing like a joke. It...was nice to hear.
The Playwright had also gone with a more light-hearted outfit, pun completely intended. He was dressed as the queen of hearts, with an A-line skirt that skimmed the ground and was almost entirely a replica of the skirt worn by the Queen of Hearts in Disney’s Alice in Wonderland animated movie. His corset had a low scoop neckline with a long heart that stretched down from the neckline to the bottom of the waist. His sleeves were poofy, black with red stripes between. 
It was a deck of cards theme between the three of them. Honestly, they took a bit of solace in their three Musketeers situation. The Bard was dressed like a harlequin in a ball-dancing dress. His entire dress was checkered, a stiff corset traded for a looser fit bodice that was sinched at the waist by a thick black belt with a heart clip. Bits of tulle were attached to his wrists, ideal for dancing in, which was perfect for the plan. He and the Playwright had matching heart chokers, too. 
As he’d said earlier, “We cute.”
Neither the Artist nor the Playwright had argued, and they had yet to pull away from him holding their arms. Maybe they didn’t hate him. 
They didn’t! They were moving beyond all that! 
Because they had to get the Child back, and Virgil back, and save the Damsel and they had a plan. Actually, they should run through the plan again, because the Bard had already forgotten most of it. 
“Thief?” he called ahead. 
“Mhm?” 
“Can we run through the, uh,” they had a code word for it, shoot, what was it? Oh! Oh, right, “The waltz again?”
“Great Mona Lisa, Bard, how the fuck did you forget how to waltz?” the Artist groaned. “We’re going to a ball.”
“No, no, no, THE waltz,” the Bard nudged the Artist’s side with his elbow. 
The Artist shot him a small confused glare, but realization struck his face quick after. “Oh. Oh, that waltz. Yeah, uh,” he turned to the Playwright, who also seemed confused, then to the front again, “Before we get in, we should go over the waltz again.” 
The Thief and Deceit both stopped as well, fingers brushing once again. The Bard saw the motion and chuckled to himself. Sweet Chopin, they needed to just hold hands already. He could envision the love birds flying around their heads. 
He felt a smidge bad, though. After all, he was the lucky Roman who got to kiss Patton. 
Logan and Patton both turned back to them. Patton let go of Logan, then looked around. They weren’t quite at the castle yet; a side alley, wide enough for all of them to stand in and with ample trees, barrels, and an open door beside it would provide good cover. 
“Let’s go over there,” Patton grabbed Logan’s arm again and led them all into the alley. 
They grouped up into a small but tight circle, the Thief pulling them together. He was in a suit, and an ironic one at that. Originally his costume was intended for Deceit, but he suggested switching them, so that the Dragon would think he were Deceit while being less suspicious. He was themed after a snake, though the theming was less noticeable than the color palette; there were yellow sequins arranged in scale patterns across his black blazer’s forearms, and his vest was black as well, undershirt yellow, and bowtie black. It looked a little like a snazzed-up version of Deceit’s lawyer suit and, though he’d tell no one, the Thief loved the look.
Deceit had said it looked nice on him, too. The bowtie, specifically, but also the entire outfit, and also the Thief simply looked good — yeah, they were both kind of messes. Gone was the ability to seamlessly flirt, apparently.
Still, it was nice to see Deceit in something other than yellow for a change, too. He was dressed as a peacock, with no blazer but a side-cape that shimmered iridescent purple and green. Part of it had blue and green rhinestones inching up the shoulder, and his vest beneath was teal, while his undershirt was mint green. There were bands on his upper arms, keeping his shirt bunched back, that were dark blue. Even his ascot was an iridescent purple and blue. 
They leaned against each other in the huddle. Brown eyes trailed all around the group, meeting similar expressions of steely determination. 
They could do this. 
“Alright,” the Thief started, “For the first hour, we’re gonna scope out the room and surrounding rooms. Meet wherever the snacks are in pairs, alternating pairs, and spread details. Patton and I will go twice.”
“Because you and I are gonna peel off after the first hour to go get Virgil and the Child,” Patton said, meeting the Thief’s eyes.
The Thief nodded. He looked around at everyone — Deceit and the Bard had both been fairly defensive about that choice, but he argued that they needed people who were good at causing distractions on the floor. Patton would be the best at comforting both Virgil and the Child, and the Thief was the only one who had any inkling of what the inside of the castle looked like. 
He continued. “Right. We’re gonna try to get out and—”
“Say, what d’ya think that’d make us?” Patton asked, a tiny grin on his face. 
“Oh, no,” Logan groaned, “Not—”
“Cat burglars!” Patton exclaimed with a giggle. 
The Bard immediately broke out into a fit of giggles, leaning into Deceit a little as he did so. Deceit just rolled his eyes and patted the Bard’s back, letting him cling to his side. 
The Artist stifled some chuckles of his own, and the Playwright grinned. Oh. Oh, no, not the idea grin. 
“I think Dragon will be hard pressed to find flaws in our purr-fect plan,” he said, eyes shining as Patton laughed as well. “We’re just gonna have to distract him with our adorable kitty-Pat.”
Logan groaned again, in good humor this time. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side, Playwright,” he grumbled. 
The Playwright immediately sobered up, mouth pressing into a line. “Ah, Logan, darling, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“Hey, but,” the Bard raised a finger at the Playwright, smile wide and mischievous, “If he catches wind of anything, you, Artist, and I can pull a wild card and deck him.”
That got the Artist and Patton to both laugh aloud, and even Logan smiled a tiny bit at the Playwright, if only to reassure him that his frustration was not directed at him.  
The Thief seemed actually annoyed, though. He snapped his fingers in the center of the circle. “C’mon, focus here. Patton and I are going to get Virgil and the Child, then we’re going to come back up to the ball room at the second hour. At that point, Deceit—”
“I’ll be dancing with Dragon and, once you’re back, I’ll be distracting him enough for you to get out,” Deceit waved his hand, also slightly exasperated. He wanted Virgil back immediately and, as the time to pull off their hest approached, he grew more nervous.
“Right. Then, Playwright will take you backstage once everyone else has filed out,” the Playwright nodded to the Thief regarding his involvement, and the Thief looked around the group once more, “All of that sound good? Everyone else, be on the look out for Damsel. We don’t know where he’s gonna be. If he’s out on the ball floor, Logan, you—”
“I will approach him and explain that we are here to get him out,” Logan grimaced, “If he is not on the ball floor….”
“Then I’ll be on standby to head into the dungeons,” the Artist said, smile deflated, brow furrowed in thought.
“Good,” the Thief patted his shoulder, gripping reassuringly, “And if Remus is there, then Bard is going into the dungeons with Patton and I’m staying in the ball room to kick his ass.”
“This all sounds like a plan, Thief,” the Bard said, smiling at him, “Logan, thoughts?”
Logan huffed, frowning at the ground. He’d rolled the details over in his mind a few times, so he’d already worked out some of the issues, such as the irrationality of the original plan’s “jump out the dungeon’s windows, really, how large are the windows, and how do we know it’s not underground.” For right now, it seemed as though the plan were efficacious, but they couldn’t be certain until it was enacted. 
But at that point, it’d be too late to change the plan to any degree of impeccability. They would have to wing it. And Logan wasn’t a fan of that. 
But what choice did they have?
“It is as detailed and as faultless as we can arrange for it to be currently,” he said.
The Thief’s mouth twitched into a slight grimace, but he nodded all the same. That was as optimistic as he would be. “Once this is all over, we meet at the tree as fast as we all can get there,” the Thief said, casting one more look around, “If we pull this off right, no one’ll be leaving alone. If your partner gets injured, you carry them to the tree.”
“I don’t think….” the Artist said, frowning a tiny bit as his voice trailed off. 
The possibility of injury was very high, actually. Death for the Romans, at least. And they didn’t know if the Dragon had injured Virgil or the Child. To be honest, they didn’t know if the Child was alive. Oh, goodness, what if Dragon had killed him? 
“It’s gonna work,” the Bard said, “It’s gonna.” 
He squeezed the Artist’s arm and gave him a nod. It was going to be okay. Roman was optimistic by nature, and the Artist did crave that sort of positivity. 
“It must,” Deceit affirmed none too positively. 
“It will,” Patton said, smiling at them all again before clapping, “And break!”
Everyone stood up on instinct. Then, they all shared slight laughs, small smiles.
The Bard leaned over and hugged Deceit with an arm, reciprocated a little. Patton leaned against the Artist, who didn’t hug back, but also didn’t flinch finally. 
They were getting somewhere. It was going to be okay. 
It was going to be okay. 
….Without Virgil, they all felt as though their optimism was naively placed. But that was why they were going to get him back! 
Once he was back, Deceit thought, he was never letting go again. If he was back. No, no, once he was back. He was coming back soon. 
“Let’s go,” the Thief pulled his mask out from his coat, a black half-face mask covered in yellow sequins arranged like scales.
Everyone shared looks, nodding to each other as they slid on their own masks. Logan, Patton, the Artist, and the Playwright all had special masks that mimicked their glasses prescriptions so they wouldn’t need contacts, too. With faces obscured, they nodded once more, squeezing arms in reassurance and patting backs and giving smiles, and hurried out of the alley. 
The Playwright walked at the front of the group, the only one not paired to any Side. He looked up at the sky. A storm had grown, clouds angry and grey above the castle, which was only a few blocks away now. Perhaps it would thunder during the ball. 
He wondered vaguely what had caused the sudden shift in weather. During their week alone, it was all sunny skies. 
Was it….
No. No, no part of Roman was that desperate, to have gone to Remus. Right? He’d been telling himself that ever since they’d begun this game, but the darker their future seemed, the more he worried about the Duke’s involvement. 
The Thief seemed to think it was very real, enough to have a back-up written into the plan. C’est la vie. Such was life, he thought, the show must go on.
They walked quietly for only a few minutes. The closer they got to the castle, the more Imagination inhabitants they saw walking around them, some in pairs, some in groups, some alone. Everyone was in costume, most intricate. Good. This would be good, for coverage. The Thief had been a little worried that the ball would be sparsely attended, but this was good. 
It was going to be okay. 
They approached the drawbridge. Patton leaned against the Artist, gripping his arm tighter as the wind picked up. The Thief and Deceit were stoic behind them, and Logan and the Bard were simply quiet, though their hands were interlaced tight. It was going to be okay.
A line had formed on the bridge, in front of one man in a suit, perhaps the medieval equivalent of a bouncer. The group shuffled into the line, looking around at the castle, at the moat (“I think it’s filled with alligators,” the Bard murmured to Logan, who shook his head and was about to respond that that didn’t make sense, until an alligator’s maw jumped up and snatched a low-flying bird) and at the sky. 
Angry, angry clouds. 
It took an excruciatingly long eleven minutes for the Playwright to finally reach the front of the line, but when he did, he immediately grinned. He had to hand it to the Dragon. 
“May I see your invitation?” Zac Efron asked, dressed in a black butler’s outfit.
Bless the Imagination’s castings. The Playwright handed over his invitation, and Zac looked over a list in his other hand before handing back the invitation and checking off a name. “You may enter to the ball room,” he motioned to the door. 
The Playwright curtsied and hurried in. Behind him was the Artist and Patton, both of whom gasped a little, becau se holy shit, it’s Zac Efron. 
The Dragon was really out here casting Thomas’ celebrity crushes as butlers. It was the first thing that the Artist had wholly agreed with the Dragon on, actually. Once they were Roman, they were going to have to look into that as a possibility. 
One by one, each entered, walking down a grand hall with a ceiling so high and so vaulted that there seemed to be a sky inside. But, then again, there probably was. This was the Imagination. It looked somewhat like the Great Hall from the Harry Potter movies, this time shining with stars and constellations. 
Logan could identify Aries and Pieces. That was actually accurate for the season and hour, so he gave a mental kudos to Roman for his design, then considered if it were his knowledge that had been used to perfect the stars. Well. That was inconsequential, I guess?
The hall was also lined with suits of armor, and bannisters adorned with Roman’s full crest. Though, Deceit noticed while he walked through, the entire crest was outlined in gold and the castle in the center was colored with grey and brown and black. He thought the Dragon was only supposed to be the outer tower and walls. If the Dragon called all of the shots around here, then why was the center tower also colored?
The walk was long, heels clacking against the stone. They turned with the carpet to the left and entered through a pair of double doors that had to be at least two floors high. 
Inside was life. The room was massive, stretching almost the size of a football field. There was a stage near the entrance door where there were musicians (with undetailed faces, Deceit noticed) were playing loud enough to echo across the room. The dance floor seemed to take up about half the room. 
Farther away from the entrance were some circle tables, arranged around with some citizens already sitting down. Further back were some long tables, food stacked atop them, and even further….
The throne was elevated so the Dragon could see across the hall to the dance floor. The Thief’s fists clenched immediately upon seeing him wearing the Prince’s attire, white uniform a stark contrast to the black he was typically adorned with. It was a jarring difference. 
He was taunting them. By Doc Holliday’s pistol, they were gonna take him down.
Beside his throne was a large Ottoman seat, where there was another figure. The Damsel, most likely, though his face was obscured by a sheer red veil and distance. He was wearing a large dress, which had a triple-tiered skirt that seemed to flare out orange, then red, then black. His corset was decorated with red and orange and yellow rhinestones, and raised behind his head. It almost looked like flames. 
Burned. The Damsel’s scars were also entirely visible, scabs on his arms angry and red, clearly not fully healed. They weren’t openly bleeding, but the Playwright could tell that they would start bleeding at some point in the night. 
His nose scrunched as he examined the pair. They didn’t seem to notice him, the Damsel leaning against the throne’s side and not moving, the Dragon stroking his chin and looking across the hall absently. He had a sword sheathed beside the throne, too, with its handle sticking up in an easily accessible manner. 
He was waiting for them, he realized. Of course he was, this was a trap, you fool. You knew this. You’d planned. It was going to be okay.
The Playwright turned back to the group just as the last pair, Logan and the Bard, entered. 
“Okay. I am going to move toward the snack table,” he nodded toward the thrones, “Octopus, would you like to join me?”
Logan let go of the Bard, who curtsied and stepped back, and then offered a hand to the Playwright. “It would be my pleasure,” he said, “How about we acquire a table, Hearts?”
The Playwright nodded, then shot the Thief a look. “Snake,” he said, a promise, a warning, “Let’s waltz.” 
“Let’s,” the Thief responded, squeezing Deceit’s arm. 
The Bard and Patton had already taken each other onto the dance floor, hoping to not be conspicuously waiting in a group by the door way, and the Artist was meandering around — nope, no, he just asked an Imagination citizen to dance. Blending in well. 
Operation save Virgil and the Child was a go. 
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Virgil could hear the faint music from above. He squinted up, then closed his eyes and exhaled. What’d that matter? 
His side was throbbing. It seemed that just wrapping a bandage around a wound did fuck all to stop it from hurting, or bleeding, especially if it was just wrapped once and around the front. Virgil would have to remember that for the next time he got stabbed by an evil Dragon, he thought snidely. 
He and the Child had relocated themselves to the bed. Pretending to not be panicking was tiring, but luckily for him, the Child had fallen asleep. 
He sniffed quietly, rubbing his eye with the butt of his palm. For the past half an hour, ever sine the Child fell asleep, Virgil had been silently crying. And there was no Damsel to conjure him a glass of water or tell him it’d be okay. Because he knew it wasn’t going to be okay. 
Even if he didn’t die in the Imagination, he’d be exiting it alone. And that was fine! 
The Child snuggled closer to his chest, tiny arms wrapped around him. Virgil sniffed again and hugged him tight. 
If he did nothing else, he’d at least protect this Roman. 
He wished he’d at least told Roman how he felt. 
Maybe he’d never get the chance. 
Gosh, this was really fatalistic, even for him. It wasn’t like he was gonna die in the Imagination. 
Virgil shielded his eyes with an arm and, as illogical as it was, wished that he could use that one arm motion to block out the sounds of the ball going on above. Shit, he was gonna die in the Imagination. 
….Usually that’d freak him out a bit more. Maybe he’d bled out to the point where he was too tired to be worried. And, maybe it was childish, but he really did want to dance with Roman. 
taglists!
chivalry taglist: @starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda @askthesnake @k9cat @patromlogil @theobsessor1 @ninja-wizard101 @fandomsofrandom
general taglist: @jemthebookworm @okay-finne
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fairycosmos · 5 years
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i really wanna start a journal but like ,, not just of writing like i want it to be simple lil drawing n everything idk bUT i feel like i’ve just lost any sense of creativity & my own personality like there’s just emptiness n everything that’s taken over for so long idk what to do ): i feel like i can’t even keep going bc everything’s just broken & it’s been for so long that it’s like ??? it’s always going to be n idk how to survive
hey love. that's a great idea!! journalling is so theraputic. :) the thing about that sort of internal barrier is that if you spend all your time thinking about it, giving power to the shitty parts of your brain, you'll create a million reasons not to help yourself. you'll make a complexity out of a simple problem, instead of just doing it. you'll end up ignoring why you should try: because you want to. all of the worry you're feeling about it is coming from a place of self hatred, and when has that ever lead you anywhere good? actively going against those instincts, is how you inspire change, as shitty as it may feel. as hard as it can be. look, it doesn't have to be an every day thing, there's no pressure. a small doodle or a single thought, a couple times a week, is enough to get you started. that's how i began last summer when i was almost even worse than i am now. i just picked up a pencil and drew some bullshit. i don't regret it all. and putting in that small effort really did make me feel more present in my own mind. you deserve a place to rant and express and be yourself. it's not a performance, it doesn't have to look or be a certain way. just has to be worthwhile, which it will be since you're so interested. i totally understand the feeling of total emptiness, how debilitating it is. you deserve more. but it's up to you to find out what 'more is', to seek it out. i'm still learning that too, and it's fine if it takes time. it's fine if you try and change your mind, it's all okay. there's no wrong way to do this. i promise, the biggest fucking trick of depression is the way it convinces you that all pain is permanent, but it's not. it's a tactic, to make you feel self destructive instead of self reliant. i know it's useless to say that, and you don't have to believe me right now. you just have to look at what you can in this moment to make things feel even just a little better. if that starts with journalling, then why hold yourself back? because you're struggling, because of something you can't control, but something you can identify and work around? i'm so sorry to hear that life's not being kind to you at the moment, and i hope you know that there is always a way forward. always support somewhere, even if it's not right in front of you. time will feel different in a few years, even a few months, just as everything will. you can't trust the illusion that it's always going to stay the same, it never does. for example, tomorrow, or whenever you're ready, you could write a few lines. already, that will make it a step up from today. it will change the routine. creating something instead of endlessly consuming or avoiding is a way to fill up the silence, to connect again. just think about it as objectively as you can. i'll be rooting for you with all my heart and i really do believe in your ability to adapt to the idea of taking it one step at a time. you survive like that. you start building again cause some part of you understands that the only thing worse than being a person is giving up on the only chance you'll ever get to be one. i'm sending you a lot of luv!! let me know if you need a friend or if you want to talk more about it. i'll be here :)
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nyancheetosmusical · 7 years
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BMC Orphan AU
Heck my dudes I’m supposed to be studying rn BUT I really wanted to share with you this random lil AU @justpidgance and I came up with.
Basically, Jeremy’s parents die or leave him or something when he was very young (Like 4-5 ish). But before they go, they get him to take a Squip, in the hopes that at least somebody will be there to take care of their son.
Below the cut is a copy-paste dump of ideas we had. Enjoy!
So like, Jeremy is an orphan, and he gets a Squip when he's a lil kid (like his parents knew they weren't going to be around so they got him one). And the Squip, raises Jeremy, which is pretty hard when you're not corporeal. But like he leads Jeremy places and he basically helps him live on the street, but like he's a little kid so he just thinks that it's a parent.
Like the Squip leads Jeremy under a bridge and helps him find stuff to build a small "home"
And he is always checking what places are giving free food and stuff
Sometimes he'll play "games" with Jeremy like "try to throw the rock onto the bridge right....now!" And he does and the rock (just like the Squip calculated) gets stuck in the wheels of a bike which is delivering pizza, and the bike crashes and a pizza flies off the bridge, and Jeremy catches it and look! Food for a couple days!
At night he tells him stories to help him sleep
And uses his abilities to help regulate his body temperature and stuff so he doesn't wake up
But the worst part is that the Squip can't touch Jeremy. And Jeremy wants to have someone to hold
So the Squip figured that he can stimulate nerves so if feels as if Jeremy is holding something
He isn't but it feels like it
And Jeremy is honestly really happy
Like yeah life is kinda hard but the Squip is able to determine his moods and help him
School? Why go there if you have a supercomputer in your brain?
The squip tried real hard to get Jer enrolled but he has none of his legal stuff. Like Jeremy is technically not a person. And he wants him in school bc free meals and safety for 7 hours of the day. But he cant
If only Jeremy could make a friend...
MICHAEL MAKES AN ENTRANCE
Okay tbh the only reason I thought of this AU is bc I have "Be the Hero" from Big Fish stuck in my head and I really wanted the Squip to sing it to Jeremy and I needed a situation, and here we are. It's like all the stories he tells Jeremy, as well as his hopes that Jeremy can survive
https://youtu.be/bHoNw263X50 
AND THE SQUIP IS ABLE TO BRING JEREMY'S IMAGINATION TO LIFE 
Random HCs
The squip taking Jeremy to a b-day party at the park and joins in. And the parents there are like, “the more the merrier” so it’s all cool. Plus, he gets to make new friends and have cake !
Whenever Jeremy does something good, the squip would play a clapping sound.
The Squip, on a regular basis, to feed Jeremy, takes him to vending machines and hacks them. he tries to get the healthiest food for him, so his body has the nutrients it needs, but one time he couldn't say no to them puppy dog eyes and gets Jeremy a poptart. Jeremy has never had a poptart before. The Squip takes him to a vent behind a store where hot air is coming out: “Hey, put the poptarts on the vent.” Jeremy has warm poptarts. "WOAh, THIS IS LIKE....so yummy." IF YOUR HUGS WERE A FOOD, THEY'D BE THIS!”
SQUIP FINDING WAYS TO TAKE JEREMY TO PLACES HE ALWAYS DREAMED OF GOING FOR HIS BDAY
SQUIP TELLING JER BEDTIME STORIES WHEN HE'S SCARED
SQUIP ENCOURAGES JER TO MAKE FRIENDS, SO HE MEETS MICHAEL
SQUIP MAKING JOKES ABOUT JERS INSANELY GROWING HEIGHT
SQUIP WANTS HIM TO MAKE FRIENDS WITH A PERSON WHO IS ECONOMICALLY MORE WELL OFF
BUT JER LIKES MICHAEL SO MUCH
But like won't michael's parents get suspicious?
This kid keeps coming over and he has no parents...
AND HIJACKS TWO PEOPLE ALSO WITH SQUIPS AND THEY COME AND PRETEND TO BE HIS PARENTS
and the Squip can't be out with him (cause Squip is always vvisibly manifested with Jer) so he just has to play along
And afterwards when Jer is alone the Squip is like "is everything alright?"
"...why don't I have a mom and a dad like Michael?"
"....I....I don't know, Jeremy"
and the Squip feels kind of bad, cause he realizes that even though he's doing his best he can never be parents
Jeremy is sitting there and drawing in the dirt and he just says: "I'm glad I have you then."
OXYTOCIN IS A HORMONE IN THE BRAIN THAT IS RELEASED WHEN A PARENT HOLD THEIR CHILD (ESPECIALLY AFTER CHILDBIRTH) IN BOTH BRAINS THAT STIMULATES BONDING
SO THE SQUIP IS TRYING TO RAISE JEREMY NORMAL
SO WHENEVER HE "TOUCHES" HIM
HE STIMULATES THE RELEASE OF OXYTOCIN
SO THAT JEREMY CAN FORM A BOND WITH HIM
(sorry about the all caps there I really love science and got excited about it)
The Squip’s visible form (only visiblle to Jeremy btw) after a while starts to manifests physicla traits Jeremy has in order to further develop their bond; like freckles, same eye color, body build.
Jeremy’s outfit in BMC (stripe shirt, blue jacket, etc) is a version of what his Squip wears.
Swimming HCS:
Squip sneaks him to a kiddo pool at some public place (so there's lifeguards in case) and they just have a fun time. and jer giggles as he tries out his attempts, and the squip finds it adorable. these sessions take place once or twice a week, and finally at some point jer Is able to swim a bit and hold his breath under water
Jer is learning how to swim with help from the squip, but since this is very new he has a very hard time with it. and at one point, jer just starts sinking deeper into the pool and starts coughing and the squip begins to panic. and there's nothing he can really do to help, and he just screams in jers head to try to swim towards the edge of the pool. and that doesn't work, so he tries to take control of jers body but he's loosing connection because of what's happening to Jeremy.
Luckily, a lifeguard dives in and gets jer to safety. but in this moment the squip starts to think he's dangerous for Jeremy-he realizes how little help he really is for jeremy. he needs somebody who'll actually be there for him rather than something as useless as a voice.
Imagine the Squip being so nervous that Jeremy might be taken into an orphanage and he might not be able to leave; the Squip knows that things might not go well. So as soon as Jeremy comes to, the Squip takes over his body and pumps him full of adrenaline and RUNS. Once they're safe, he lets Jeremy in and Jeremy is so tired. Also, a little scared of the Squip
And the Squip wonder if maybe an orphanage would be better than him
The squip convinces jer to go to a vending machine as an apology, and gets Jeremy poptarts AND skittles cause Jeremy has always wanted skittles and the Squip apologizes a lot. And even asks him: “Do you want someone to take care of you that's not me? I....I can't always be there for you.”
But Jer is just quiet, and the Squip is sad cause he thinks the answer is yes. The squip really wants to like comfort him, but he doesn't want to pressure him. So instead, sometimes, to make Jer feel better he'll release oxytocin or dopamine or other hormonesor serotonin I forgot that one
to help him feel better.Also, he wants to "touch" him,  but this is a choice Jeremy has to make on his own. And Jeremy is eating his skittles, and he picks up one and show it to the Squip:
Jer:  "Look at this letter!"
Squip:  "...that's an s."
Jer: "Uh-huh! I love all things that start with the letter S!"
Squip:  "....what-"
Jer: "Skittles, sea horses, socks, and Squips!"
And the squip melts a little
Squip: "Jeremy, are you sure? You saw what I did to you today, didn't that make you afraid?"
Jer: "Well, it did, and it was really scary, but....you did it because you love me, right?"
Squip: "Y-yeah...."
Jer: "So I forgive you! You we're just trying to help. And you even said sorry and got me skittles!:
Squip: "....what on earth did I do to deserve you."
Jer: "that's a silly thing to say! Oh, look at this, they're all in the rainbow order!"
The Squip in public with Jeremy:
It has to be like "Listen, Jeremy, you're not allowed to talk about me in front of other people, okay?"
"but why not?"
"don't worry about it, okay? And remember, what do we say when someone asks about your parents?"
"uhm....Oh yeah! They live just down the street!"
"Perfect! Alright, we can go to the park now."
"Yay! Can you play the drum song?"
"If you skip to the beat, then yes"
The squip uses powers of internet to play song and Jer skips to the park. To anyone watching, it's just a kid having a good time, running to the park.
And then @justpidgance and I had to torture each other with angst
Jeremy going to the hospital and the doctors find the squip and remove it, and Jer wakes up all alone, no parents or squip coming for him.
So he has to figure out what a squip WAS and either save up money for one or steal it and take it again.WAIT, THE MOST HORRIBLE PART: NOW HE'S A TEENAGER,  THE SQUIP IS DIFFERENT, IT JUST WANTS HIM TO BE POPULAR. So now he has the only person he thought he loved in his brain telling himm how horrible he is
The Squip used to stimulates shocks to allow Jeremy to ‘feel him’, but the new squip doesn’t do that. So purposely, Jeremy slouches or does something stupid so the new squip can shock him. Even if it hurts, he needs to have that feeling again.
The squip telling him to stop expecting love and compassion from him:
"I'm a supercomputer, not your parents"
"how did you even survive out here as long as you did?"
"....it was you"
"well if it was I must have done a pretty terrible job, I mean look at you?!"
"....you told me I was just right the way I am...."
"Well I must have been faulty, because you are not.
AND THE SQUIP PICKS UP ON THIS PRETTY QUICK. SO HE WILL, EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE SAY SOMETHING NICE OR MAKE JEREMY FEEL GOOD
“....well done, Jer-Bear.”
“!!! Th-thank you so much!”
“Stop smiling, your teeth are not fixed and it makes you look very unappealing.”
“R...right. Sorry.”
“Let’s go.”
JUST SO JEREMY KEEPS LISTENIN’  BECAUSE JEREMY JUST HOPES OLD SQUIP WILL COME BACK
168 notes · View notes
tboytoby · 7 years
Text
Clutz and Tomalgam (And a lil SepraTorm at the start)
@tomalgam @rejectclone Here it is! The format’s a little odd since we used MSPARP to do this. 
Warning: It’s a little long
-------------------------------
Clutz: Clutz is an Edd clone, this he knows. However, something he doesn't know, and would very much like to, is why he came out the way he did. He can't do a lot right. One of the few things that he can do correctly, though, is break things. He's broken more fragile items than he's even able to count anymore and as much as he hates it, it's who he is. He's tried everything but he just can't stop being so clumsy. At this point he's begun to think he was born with two left feet. What would that look like? He looks like he has a left and right foot that should work normally.. The clone is suddenly torn out of his thoughts about why he is the way he is as he trips on his shoelaces for the fifth time today. "Ow.." He lets out a soft sigh, ignoring the pain in his hand. He appears to have scraped something. Again. It's quite hard to keep a positive personality when all you do is fail at basic things such as tying your shoes. And walking.
 Separatorm: Well heres him, whos him? He is Separatorm, A reject. He was made when a tom clone and a tord clone somehow were messed with like play dough. They were smushed together than pulled apart. They didn't fully separate. Thats how they got their name. Separatorm. Even with this small little fact, for some reason, these clones liked each other, a lot. More like loved. how? we'll never know. They just love themselves. No fighting. They love themselves so much they speak in one voice all the time, unless there's an argument...but that's rare! They almost don't have any arguments. They sigh, with that giant mouth of there's. They were just leaning against a wall until they saw Clutz. They wave, and smile. And walk over. "You alright?"
 ((wheezes
 ((You did a good, babe
 ((I'm just gonna quickly have a shower while we wait for Candy uvu
 ((k
 ((im also getting lowkey tired
 ((might d i e
 [4'2"] Scribble Tom [7'2"] Tomalgam (Candy) [] joined chat.
 SCRIBBLE: shit one sec-))
 Torm|Clutz (Sky)'s connection timed out.
 TOMALGAM: Big ol' Tomalgam was not really your average clone. Some just had little defects, like not having the same interests as the originals, or some were fused, but Tommie was very different. Standing at seven feet tall, with a couple of inches on top of that, he had a face made up of ten "eyes" and three mouths (one in the normal place, one on his cheek, and one above his eyebrow). That wasn't counting the other one on his neck, either. Six arms and four legs, walking was a nightmare for the poor babe. His torso was too heavy for his legs to hold up, so often he found himself crawling like a spider. Scuttle, scuttle! Right now the nervous reject was stumbling along, somewhere near that injured-looking Edd clone and the half separated Torm.
 SCRIBBLE: *eight arms and six legs
 Torm|Clutz (Sky) [] joined chat.
 ((Okay i'm finally back
 Clutz: Clutz rubs his hand a little. "Yeah, i'm okay. Tha...nks..." He pauses as he looks up at the reject clone before him. He's seen Torm before, even a few different variations of them, but never before has he seen a Torm this... Odd..? He doesn't want to think of the poor clone as scary, as much as they are to him, as that would be judging them just by their appearance and that's rude. He decides to just sit up, instinctively patting and brushing away any dust or dirt that decided to cling to his hoodie and his torn pants. He looks up again to notice a certain multi-limbed Tom clone. The clone looks rather uncomfortable as he walks. Even though Clutz knows he'll probably make it worse, he stands up and attempts to move over to the clone. "Sorry, excuse me." He smiles softly at the Torm clone before walking over to Tomalgam. "Hey, are you oka- Ah!" He trips. Again. He groans softly as he lands face first on the ground. Ow.
 ((Clutz is great at first impressions
 ((i,,
 ((HE MADE SURE TO SAY SORRY BUT HIS MOM SENSES WERE TINGLING
 Separatorm: Oh. Hes..kinda..hurt? but he gets it. That tom clone seems like he needs help more than him. He sighs, and just watches, he pats his own back, reassuring himself. Ok, hes good. He coughs though, eugh.
 ((My replies,,,
 ((are gonna be short because im v tired
 ((Is ok
 ((You is a tired bean
 ((pat
 ((//Hugs// My tired bean
 ((:0
 ((Tfw you have two unfinished drawings bc you don't have the motivation to finish them
 SCRIBBLE: I have to do hw so ill bbl-))
 [4'2"] Scribble Tom [7'2"] Tomalgam (Candy)'s connection timed out.
 ((:0 Okie dokie
 ((//Pats Jam// You can sleep now bby
 ((ah,,
 ((fades into the astral plane
 ((There they g o
 ((jk
 ((hugs u
 ((now i sleep
 ((Sweet dreams, babe. Love you <3
 ((love you too :0
 Tom|Seperatorm (Jamie) [] disconnected.
 [4'2"] Scribble Tom [7'2"] Tomalgam (Candy) [] joined chat.
 ((Ayy
 SCRIBBLE: Heeey))
 ((//Faceplants// I'm ded
 SCRIBBLE: catches))
 SCRIBBLE: same))
 ((:')
 ((Do you wanna continue with the rp? :0
 SCRIBBLE: Yeah sorry im just drawing-))
 ((Ooh :0!
 SCRIBBLE: Two of the clones mouths yelp, creating a duet of fright. He looks down at the poor reject that just fell at his feet, eyes blinking in confusion. After a moment, three arms are held up to help the chap up. Tommie doesn't talk, he just tilts his head a little.
 Clutz: "Thanks." He wipes the area just below his nose, wincing slightly as he sees blood on his hand. "S-Sorry." He feels rather useless. He came over to try and help this poor clone, not to make a fool of himself and have to get help from this poor clone! "I'm fine, i-it happens a lot." He sniffles softly to try and lessen the blood coming out of his nose. He's probably smudged it all over his cheek at this point so he just gives up and gives Tomalgam a reassuring smile.
 SCRIBBLE: The maw on his neck chews its bottom lip testily, drawing blood. Tomalgam winces, looking at the blood smudged across this fellow's cheek. He lifts an arm and points at the spot on his own face, then at the place his nose would be if he had one.
 Clutz: He wipes the spot a little, mostly cleaning it. "Did I get it?" He looks up at the tall clone's face, only really mildly disturbed by his features. Clutz does, though, notice the chewing from the other's neck mouth. "Oh, are you okay? Does it hurt?" It hasn't even dawned on him the possibility of this Tom clone being mute. He'll probably feel really bad if he gets no response.
 SCRIBBLE: He nods at the clone's first question, then an arm lifts and forces the neck's mouth open, ceasing the biting. Another nod, Tomalgam doesn't like talking. He hates his voice :(
 Clutz: "Oh, good! Since I was gonna try and come over here to help you anyways." He smiles brightly. And he's obviously helped so much since he moved over here... He quickly dismisses the thought from his mind.
 TOMALGAM: Tilting his head again, Tomalgam points at Clutz, eyes blinking. It's meant to be a sort of "who are you?" gesture.
 Clutz: He thinks for a second. Oh, right. "Everyone calls me Clutz..." He doesn't really like the name but it's the only one he has. "Can you tell me yours..?"
 ((Oop brb
 TOMALGAM: same-))
 TOMALGAM: All of his mouths, save the one on his neck, set in a thin line. After a while, he reluctantly forces out, "Tomal...gam..." His voice is hoarse and rough, and he seems to struggle to talk. Must be difficult with a mouth pressing against his windpipe.
 ((I LIVE
 TOMALGAM: eyy))
  Clutz: He jumps slightly, having been just about to ask if the poor guy was mute. "Oh, it's great to meet you Tomalgam!" He doesn't seem to pay any mind to the strain in the poor guy's voice. He's just appreciative that Tomalgam went to the trouble of projecting his voice for him.
 TOMALGAM: Nodding again, he holds out a hand for Clutz to shake. He has to stoop a little, tall babe.
 Clutz: He laughs softly and takes the tall bois hand. He's smol anyways at a nice 5'6. Taller than his mun by an inch.
 TOMALGAM: Coughs. Though his main mouth stays straight unlike him, the one on his cheek hesitantly smiles. Pure boy. Soft boy.
 ((They were both at 6'0, were they supposed to be? :0
 ((Cause I'm pretty sure my phone is just bein a butt
 TOMALGAM: oh, mustve not worked =]:/))
 ((What heights were supposed to be there?
 TOMALGAM: 7'2" and 5'6"))
 ((Ah ok!
 ((Man Clutz is tiny compared to Tomalgam
 TOMALGAM: imagine scribbs next to him))
 TOMALGAM: three foot))
 Clutz: It's okay everyone's gay in Wonderland He softly shakes the tol soft bois hand. Tall soft and small soft. Soft team.
((T INY
 TOMALGAM: The tall soft of the soft team points at Clutz various injuries with another arm, head tilted. How the fuck can one guy get so many injuries-
 TOMALGAM: imagine if tommie picked scribbs up and fucking wrapped him up in a little arm cocoon-))
 ((AaAAAA
 TOMALGAM: soMEONE NEEDS TO DRAW THAT-))
 Clutz: "Hm?" He looks at the arm. "Oh, I'm just really clumsy. I trip a lot.. Fall down stairs... A lot."
 Clutz: Hand* hecking
 ((Aw mAN I WISH I HAD ACCESS TO MY DRAWING TABLET
 TOMALGAM: He frowned sadly, that doesn't sound nice. He gently pats the soft smol's head.
 TOMALGAM: PATS,))
 Clutz: He flinches a little but smiles. He,,, Has a head injury,,,
 TOMALGAM: nnnnoooOOOOO- He sees the flinch and frick,,, he hurt him,, He pulls his hand away, fuck, he did bad. "Sorry.." He croaks out.
 Clutz: "No, no, it's okay! I just hit my head earlier." Soft comforting arm pat.
  TOMALGAM: "No..." He whines, it's all his fault. He sniffles, black liquid starting to ooze from a few of his eyes. He's a big baby.
 Clutz: PANIC. He just quickly hugs the poor boy. "No, don't cry!" Or,, Whatever he's doing,, "I-It's okay! It's really not your fault! You didn't know." He buries his face in Tomalgam's hoodie, not wanting to see the poor baby cry. "It's okay. It's okay."
 TOMALGAM: ! Snuffle.. four of his arms wrap around the boy, a tight cocooning hold. The other two wipe his eyes. Poor cuties.
 Clutz: He smiles softly and rubs his cheek against the big boy(TM). He picked up a few qualities of cats by living with a few stray ones right after everyone escaped. He still owns said cats. Man he loves cats. They're so graceful. Wait he's hugging someone. "Soft." Soft, warm and safe from all of the accidents he has. He's very rarely experienced a hug, let alone one with so many arms.
 TOMALGAM: Tomalgam has never been called soft before. Scary, ugly, sometimes even horrifying, but never soft. It makes him feel warm and fuzzy. The other two arms join their brothers around the small boy(TM).
 Clutz: He loves the affection. He's p much smothered in arms at this point but he really doesn't mind, as long as he can still breathe he's okay. He lets out a little laugh. "You give great hugs." He absolutely loves compliments. Getting them, giving them. He just loves em.
 TOMALGAM: The mouth on his neck makes a little noise of gratitude as the arms hold him tighter. Tomalgam be careful youre going to hurt him-
 Clutz: He finds it a little harder to breathe but tries to take no mind to it. He's pretty durable but any tighter and he'll have to call it quits.
 TOMALGAM: After a while like this, Tommie finally pulls away. Don't want to kill him on the first date- He looks around, he's getting tired of standing.
 Clutz: Lowkey takes in a few deep breaths of air. His legs are starting to get tired so he just sits down on the ground with a soft hum before patting the ground next to him.
 TOMALGAM: He slowly sits down, careful to not fall. This is done by crouching, and leaning forwards onto his hands as he sits. Hoo. Job well done.
 Clutz: He smiles as a silent 'good job!' before hesitantly leaning on the other. He just likes how warm Tomalgam is.
 Clutz: Plus if he's close to someone he feels safer.
 TOMALGAM: Tommie feels safer too, he remembers cuddling Good Tord. He misses Good Tord. He puts all his arms around Clutz, pulling him into his lap. Soft.
 Clutz: Oop he's a teddy now. He lays happily in Tomalgam's lap, positioning himself as close to the other clone as possible. Aw yeah first friend that isn't dead or a cat.
 TOMALGAM: Who says Tomalgam isnt a cat? He'll purr if you stroke him in the right place. He buries him face in the lil ones hair, smiling.
 Clutz: Omg He becomes a lil blushing mess. Aaa what is this affection he is receiving.
 TOMALGAM: It's affection from a big cuddle monster. Tommie isn't blushing, he probably thinks this is platonic or something
 Clutz: He does, too. He's just a lil cutie that gets easily flustered He can't help but giggle. He's a happy smol and he's gotta show it.
 TOMALGAM: Tommie laughs too, a gravelly, wheezing noise. Hoo, babe that doesn't sound healthy.
 Clutz: He's a bit skeptical but doesn't want to ruin the situation. He can ask about it later. He just adjusts his position to be a little more comfortable.
 TOMALGAM: Ruin the situation, eh? Tommie takes this moment to lay down and turn onto his side, Clutz still clutched tightly in his arms. No escape.
 Clutz: This is how he dies- He makes sure he's facing the bby as they both lay down. He rests an arm on Tomalgam, just putting the other in a comfy position. He's happy with this.
 TOMALGAM: Clutz is now his teddybear. He hasn't been this calm in fucking ages, woah. He could almost... zzzzz...
 TOMALGAM: Okay i think im gonna skedaddle for a while, seeeeeeya))
 TOMALGAM: tommie will never let clutz escape))
 [4'2"] Scribble Tom [7'2"] Tomalgam (Candy)'s connection timed out.
 ((Oh whoops. Nearly passed out
 ((I wanted to sleep anyways lmao
 Clutz: Aw fuck it's a dang sleepin party. He yawns a little and falls asleep not long after Tomalgam. Sleepy beans.
 ((And I'm off. Night babies
Torm|Clutz (Sky) [PHONE] [] disconnected
10 notes · View notes
florafraser-blog · 7 years
Text
OOC WEEK: this or that
RAPID FIRE:
Tea or coffee? tea. leaf juice over bean juice.
Stars or planets? planets. pluto is my girlfriend.
Sun or moon? moon. u can’t stare directly @ the sun, but u CAN stare directly @ the moon.
Black or white? black, like my Soul.
The zoo or the aquarium? aquarium!!!!!! lemme watch the fishes!!!!!!
Drama or comedy? drama drama drama drama
Thriller or adventure? thriller Always.
Short walks to the fridge or long walks on the beach? can i have a short walk on the beach?
Indoors or outdoors? both. both is nice, as long as there are no bugs in either environment.
Animals or plants? animals.
Time alone or time with others? listen, human beings exhaust me, but i also require constant attention.
Introvert or extrovert? introvert.
Silence or music? music.
Darkness or light? light, but like, only well lit light.
Cats or dogs? dogs.
Dancing or being the wallflower? dancing my lil toosh off.
Right or left? right.
Werewolves or vampires? i had a rly long ‘the vampire diaries’ phase ok. immortality fascinates me. vampires.
Dressing stylishly or dressing comfortably? as i’ve said to carlie before, my style is “cultivated messiness” aka i look like i put 0 effort in but in a cute way, but i actually put 0 effort in. so dressing comfy but in a stylish way!!!!!
Sunrise or sunset? sunset.
Lead or follow? a lil bit of both. sometimes, u gotta lead when nobody else is doing jack shit, but sometimes, u gotta keep ur mouth shut and follow so that other people are responsible for the Anarchy
Optimist or pessimist? lil bit of both. it’s hard 2 be optimistic when a tangerine is in charge of ur country.
Staying up late or waking up early? staying up late!
Speaking up or staying silent? speaking up always and forever.
White lies or brutal honesty? depends on what the situation calls for. as a rule, i like to be honest, but with the people i’m close with, sometimes that will do more harm than good, and sometimes, you just have to let people come to a conclusion on their own.
Ask for permission before doing the stupid thing or ask for forgiveness after doing the stupid thing? 100% ask for forgiveness after doing the stupid thing.
LONG FORM:
Pet peeves: ppl leaving the toilet seat up, ppl who walk slowly, ppl who eat tuna in public (that shit is STINKY), ppl who stand too close to u in line, ppl who don’t ask permission before they take something of urs or touch something of urs, ppl who sneeze into their hands
Bad habits: not eating enough fruits and vegetables or drinking enough water, spending too much $$ on useless crap, liking boys, not wearing my orthotics, not finishing my food, procrastinating on my work (GUESS WHAT I’M DOING RIGHT NOW), ignoring all of my problems in hopes that they’ll go away, not charging my devices.....ever....., never cleaning my glasses, undoing the hems on all of my clothes
Favourite scents (your amortentia!): peppermint, nail polish remover, freshly baked bread, lavender, dryer sheets, petrol
Favourite animal: ORCA!!!! WHALES!!!!!!
Favourite colour: green~
Favourite place to go (local or otherwise) (photos get bonus points): there’s a student run coffee shop on USC’s campus called “ground zero” and they have the best milkshakes known to man, but they also just in general have such good study vibes and writing vibes, so i spend like 98% of my time there.
Favourite meme: the evil kermit meme
Do you have any creative or artistic abilities? i goddamn hope so!!!!!!!! i would like to think i can write semi well, and that’s about it. i can’t draw or sing or paint, so writing is basically all i’ve got. i also feel like i have Some Aesthetic sensibilities, so i’d be somewhat ok at photography and cinematography, but i’m not actually that interested in the latter, just the former.
Talk about something that made you happy today, yesterday, this week: one of my best friends came w me to see the movie “lion” on monday. i’d already seen it, but i really wanted her to see it, and she got us FREE TICKETS at this beautiful theater in santa monica, and we went, and she loved it, and just seeing her enjoy this thing that i loved made me rly rly happy :’)
Talk about an experience that made you feel proud or confident: OK i bought overalls over christmas break, and let me tell u, i have never felt more confident than i feel in these overalls bc not only do i look Good, i look Gay, and today i put them on, and curled my hair, and i feel like the prettiest goddamn human being in existence :’)
Talk about something/someone that makes you feel relaxed: carlie!!!!!!!!!! this is gonna get sappy i’m trying 2 kill her when she wakes up!!!!!!! but talking to carlie alway makes me feel really calm and chill, even if we’re being super high key about something. and if something’s going Wrong, i know i can talk to her because she always has a Good Perspective that Soothes and Supports, and i love her very dearly :’))))))
Talk about something you’re yet to try for the first time but want to: this is dumb, but i’ve never done a face mask before??? i rly want to??? i want my Skin To Feel Soft And Nourished. i also want to dye my hair and become even more of an aesthetic hoe than i already am
Who are your role models and why: 1) david fincher, for just saying fuck u @ everything and doing whatever the hell he wants 2) viola davis, for her constant intelligence and perseverance and strength 3) shonda goddamn rhimes, for creating an empire 4) amy elliot dunne, for being a BAD ASS BITCH 5) peter paige, for continuing to bring nuanced queer stories to the screen, as an actor, as a writer, as a person 6) all of the friends in my life who are just.........amazing and complicated and driven and heartfelt who constantly give me a reason to want to be the best version of myself
Talk about something you want to do this year: i want to start flossing. flossing and i have never gotten along. but my dentist told me i was like THIS close to having perfect teeth, if only i flossed more, so i was like....u know what.....why not go the extra mile......this is my new year’s resolution, and it’s lame, but it’s Mine.
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