#headphones are IN music is ON i am not acknowledging anyones existence just stop being downstairs

[bird-in-a-cage]

5 + Harringrove please

Hi anon, thanks for the request! The rest of the list can be found here.

I had an idea for this one pretty much straight away, I hope this lives up to what you were expecting! 

#5 - I feel stuck. And everyone is moving without me.

Clawfoot

The master bathroom was Mrs Harrington’s pride and joy, whenever she was around long enough to use it. Steve remembers the remodel taking forever because, above all else, a clawfoot bathtub was essential. Apparently it had been extremely expensive too, something about the floor needing strengthened, causing more than one bitten off fight around the dinner table Steve was too young to understand at the time. But he remembers them. Vividly.  

Now neither parent was really around, Steve claimed it for his own. Left his toothbrush and hair products all over the sink in front of the mirror that was bigger than the one in his bathroom. Left towels on the pristine white tiles for far longer than they should have been there. But the tub was his favourite part. Especially after a long day of being a minimum wage drone with nothing really to do other than think too much. 

He turned the water on, waited for it to get hot to the point of being almost blistering before allowing the tub to fill, before stripping off the Family Video uniform and sinking into the bath with nothing more than a small hiss as the heat attacked his skin in sharp prickles. But it was good. He needed this. The pain stopped the thoughts from swelling too far. Thoughts about how he was going to be stuck in Hawkins forever. 

Usually he was able to brush off the ever increasing self doubt, it still lingered but he tried not to let it show to the outside world. Still the same Steve he’d always been, just more mellow now. Less concerned with popularity and being king. Surviving three near death experiences in quick succession will do that. Little things didn’t tend to matter anymore. He woke up breathing in his own bed every morning. Sometimes that was enough.

Robin got into college today. It was her day off but she came into the store to show off her acceptance to UCLA to major in languages, and to tell Keith to go fuck his stupid job and his stupid hair and his stupid cheeseball breath. Steve was happy for her, of course he was, but it was just another piece falling away. Another support beam crumbling down.

He sunk into the red hot water up to his chin. Let the prickles sink down to his bones. He was growing to like being boiled alive. Sometimes it was nice to feel like a lobster the moment before it realises it's going to be slathered in melted butter and served for dinner.

With Robin going there was no one left. Dustin didn’t count, he was a high school kid now and Steve couldn’t hang around high schoolers anymore. It was too weird. He didn’t want to be known as that guy. Nancy and Jonathan were happy in Washington last time he’d heard. He hadn’t spoken to Tommy in years, but he apparently left town to travel around a bit, find himself. And Billy was dead. Everyone left seemed to be able to just pick themselves up and carry on. Why couldn’t Steve? Why, every time he closed his eyes, could he still smell fireworks and smoke? Why could he still see tunnels in his dreams? Why was he still being chased night after night by monsters no matter what new drug the government appointed therapist put him on?

The tub was the only thing that brought even a second of relief. The feeling of pain mixing with pleasure to create a weird soup. Every small movement and splash echoed around the tiles. It was calming. It almost wasn’t real. Time didn’t exist.

Steve hated that therapist. He would talk for almost the full hour every week about how he couldn’t sleep through the night without keeping the lights and the radio on, about his nightmares when he could finally drift off that caused him to panic and sweat and scream with no one to hear it, about how a bus with burnt out brakes screeched outside Melvalds not too long ago and Steve felt his heart stop because it sounded like those monsters coming back. All he would receive in return was silence, a pen scratching on paper, a new prescription.

Robin wouldn’t talk about what they’d been through. The only other person in the whole world who would maybe understand even just a small fraction. Steve had tried to bring it up once, after a sleepless night where the room was swirling and it felt like those Russian drugs were back in his system again somehow, but was shut down with a simple “I don’t want to talk about that”. Steve had to respect her wishes, it would be unfair to just dump his trauma out in the open. That was probably just how she dealt with it. Pushed it aside and moved on. Steve did talk about it though, when she was doing returns or sorting new releases with headphones on and music blaring loud. He would say things to her she would never hear. At least, she never acknowledged she could hear anything. Everything said with a smile so, even though no one was listening, no one would suspect anything was true. All just a joke. Same old Steve Harrington.

“Hey, remember that time we nearly died and no one would ever find our bodies if we had? Yeah, fun times.”

“I don’t think my parents would come home for my funeral, probably just send a card in the mail. Funny though, ‘cause I’d never be able to read it.”

“Hey, so, last night I cried so hard I threw up. Imagine that! I’m too old to be doing that shit anymore, but, here I am. A pathetic mess.”

“I feel stuck and everyone is moving without me...”

“Everyone deals with life in different ways,” was all the advice the therapist would ever give, even when Steve was begging for more. Something that would actually help. But really, the sessions were only there so they could gadge if anyone else knew about what happened. Who Steve was talking too, who was important in his life. It was just the government keeping tabs. God forbid they actually help.

Steve’s sigh echoed around the bathroom. He sucked down one last breath before slipping under the water completely, letting it burn and soothe and burn some more. Letting the heat attack the thin skin around his closed eyes and flood his ears. Holding his breath until his lungs ached and he could feel his heartbeat thumping louder and louder. Forced himself to stay down, stay under as long as possible, putting his hands over his mouth and nose, pushing his bare feet into the porcelain of the tub to fight the urge to rise too soon. Until all he could hear was his heart. Until all he could feel was burning. His lungs on fire and every inch of skin alabaster pink. Nothing mattered at the bottom of the tub. It was a million miles away from everything. Misery didn’t exist down here. Sadness and the inability to just move on, like it was the easiest thing to do, didn’t exist. All that mattered was his baser instincts fighting through to survive.

The first breath was always the sweetest. The first gulp of steamy oxygen. Gasps and splashes echoed around the bathroom, bouncing and reverberating. Water sloshing over the sides of the tub and dripping onto the tiles. Still alive. This time. That’s all that mattered.

Still alive.

#my writings #prompt list #steve harrington #tw: depressive episode #tw: depression #stranger things #stranger things fic

[rpausandwhatifs]

Is This What You Call...Safety?|| Hush Hush

A/N: This is for my friend Jayde for her belated birthday! Enjoy bb!

@ledabunnie-rp @nevergoodenoughforthetruth

Vincent had came to work, but he had gone through his load entirely too fast. He was mostly at the hands of one guy- and he was the host. However, it was too late to really think about it before the drugs had set in, causing the man to stumble and fumble as the pills he took before the party mixed with the lean in the cup he finished while making sales. He was a blurry mess and somehow guided his way to the closest bathroom he found in a part of this rented house where most of the goers in this area were having sex or chatting it up so they could hear. He pushed past them, going into the first open door and falling into it. “Oh..fuck..” he muttered as he almost collided with the wall, feeling the tile and touching the wall as the spinning continued and he found his way into the toilet, vomiting immediately before finding the flush lever.

Leda forgot that she didn’t lock the door, so the really cute boy in the skin tight chinos and boots with the long hair barged in it scared her half to death. She put her 3DS down and slid her headphones off, about to bang on the glass chamber that was the stand alone shower until something stopped her and it just made her watch the man try to recover as he lit a cigarette. 

The man propped himself up and crawled to the top of the toilet and threw the lid down as he took another drag, trying to see where the light switch was even though there was a hue of red and purple from the string lights. Quickly giving up on his adventure he threw up one more time into the bowl and sat up on the closed toilet, dragging his cigarette while he let the cool porcelain calm him down. He heard the distant movements in the shower and pryed one eye open to barely see a girl with turquoise hair in a rave outfit with a backpack or something staring at him in a clear box. "Who's in the shower?" He calls out, rocking his head back and forth fighting the nausea.

"I'm here in spirit..I don't exist," Leda said back, weary at how he was able to spot her.

"That's the most human thing I've ever heard from a spiritual entity," he laughs and scoffs, "That's a cute voice you got, you have a name oh spirit?"

"I'm... not telling you that.." she said, "And you die from a heart attack in here im not saving you."

"Are...you... you're in here.. you're human- fuck i can't see- are you in the shower? Is that why you sound like that?" He asked with a small joke, "Wanna cigarette?"

"Maybe.. if you can't see then how are you smoking and offering me one?" She challenged him.

"Muscle memory. You'd be surprised how many things you can do automatically.. Just with your arms and hands..." he trailed off, "Also you didnt drink out of the cup when you got here? You sound like... crazy sober."

"No..I didn't, Felix told me about it before the party and I just-"

"Wanted to keep your clout you came to this party even though you didn't want to, but you didn't wanna let your friends down, but you didnt wanna just sit at home on a Friday night again..I heard something close, did you bring a video game?" He said.

"Shut the fuck up, Vincen-"

"Ohhh you do know me... interesting. It must be because of Felix... speaking of, wonder who he's got down his throat...Ah, I'll worry about it later...I thought I knew his friends.." he muses, I would remember an ethereal voice like yours.."

"I...I..." she was stuck, she shouldn't have said his name, "Thanks for the compliment, can you go back to quietly being too fucked up on drugs to acknowledge me now?"

"Actually...I've overstayed my welcome at this place anyway.. there's a guy in here and he's... less than thrilled his house got rented out for the debauchery that is horny college students," he mentioned, slowly lowering himself on the floor and crawling to Leda, placing himself against the wall, facing straight ahead with the girl in what would be his peripheral.

Leda's ears perked up, he knows there's a spirit in here? Was he just pulling her leg or what? His eyes were still closed but his voice sounded way better up closer than across the large bathroom. The crackles and creaks of it made her nervous. "There isn't anyone in here," she claims supposedly.

"No... he's dead. The house was sold to a PM that rents houses out for events and vacations..he likes the renovation though...He showed me he carried you in here," Vincent said, "You woke up and immediately tried to protect yourself in the shower."

"Now you're making shit up," she called out wrapping on the glass box.

"If I'm making shit up then how'd you get in here?" He asked and was met with silence, "You don't remember... do you?..He told me you just kinda walked out your house with the lights on.. guess he didn't want you to get hurt- but seriously, how did you not drink the syrup at the door?"

"I poured it out when no one was looking and washed out the cup with vodka and hoped an appletini would calm me down.. cus I got really anxious being around everybody pushing everyone and the music is too loud..." she started, drawing her knees to her chest, "He scared the shit out of me."

Vincent laughed, "Yeah that's how i was when i saw him standing in the middle of the room... Did you want the cigarette? Also i have a valium if you want one.."

Leda smiled when he laughed, feeling way better that someone other than her could see spirits and understood possession. She knew what valium was, and just one couldn't hurt with a cigarette cutting it up, "He tell you how he died?"

"Wife poisoned him.. then shot him.. didn't take the divorce very well... sounds like a gold-digging bitch anyway," Vincent said as he used his to light another for her.

"Wow... you don't wanna share?" She gasped quietly as she slid her hand out of a crack in the door to take the cig.

"That.. would mean I get closer... didn't think you'd want that.. you know who I am..I'm the drug dealer on this campus... You don't know what I'm capable of.." he warns her, finally looking into the glass at the door, "I sold all the things I have so anything at this point is personal stock.. but..I couldn't keep a freebie from a cutie like you holy shit...If I could see you like he showed me, I dunno if I could contain myself.. What color is your hair?" He leans into the glass as his head starts spinning again almost muttering his words. He gets up and takes out a Tic-Tac, fumbling his way to the sink and crunching on it as he washed his mouth out on the faucet, wetting his face and wiping it on a towel before bringing the damp cloth to the floor. He stumbled back to the huge glass chamber on his hands and knees, opening the door and crawling over her and excusing himself before settling next to her.

Leda was shaken to her core at his words, and forgot that he was probably on a few different drugs and high on something else. She couldn't get her mouth to open to create the words. She quickly forgot the question and watched with wide eyes as she no longer was terrified of opening the door when Vincent pushed it back and crawled to her. She was almost shaking as he excused himself. "Purple a-and pink," she stammered, "I have to dye it again..I'm doing black with tips.."

"Hm..i see," Vincent said with a weak nod, pushing his wet hair back again as he exhaled, "I'm sorry I'm trying to come down and this shit is coming in like... waves and.. fuck~"

"What is it specifically?" She asked, taking him in, he looks so interesting yet her eyes darted back to the toilet across the room, "And don't worry I don't need the valium right away..”

"Ah shit right.. the valium.. doing what weed has done for years since the 70s," he chided as he fished a pill bottle out of his pocket, then handing her two pills of different shape and color.

"What's that?" She quickly asked.

"Muscle relaxant..that's for you too..helps the valuim, no psychoactive side effects to speak of...reduces lactic acid," he mentioned, relighting her cig, "I have friends in pharmaceutical chemistry.. they really hook me up and in return they get paid in weed.. down the hatch."

Leda's heart was racing at how he sounded so close to her, lighting her up like a gentleman even as a slumped mess. She smoked quietly as he had fallen into another unconscious stupor while the drugs were doing their job. They were working faster than she expected. "Vincent..." she called to the ceiling, "I'm tired.."

"I thought you would be..i forgot to tell you it acts fast.. but you're fine I promise," he mentioned.

"No I feel amazing, I just...I need something soft to lay on," she sighed.

"How about we go to one of the suites?" He offered, "I can see now if my legs will work."

They get up, getting out of the bathroom in search for unoccupied rooms. Settling on the empty pool house, where they found an open skylight in the bathroom since the doors were locked. They bust in and find the bedroom, resuming their conversation in this California simple and dainty king bed.

"Why'd you lock the bathroom door?" She asked as she lit her own cig even though she just begged him for it.

"You always do that at college parties if you create another entrance to the bathroom.." he said simply laying back on the end of the bed with his legs planted to the floor, bending his head up to see the girl snuggled in his jacket, twisting his body to lay on his stomach, "uhhmm yeah, you lock the door behind you at any party because frat boys with give you a swirly or worse..or someone who's eager to use the bathroom and they're too fucked up to be aware so they do it on you-"

"Ugh that's gross!" She exclaimed, laughing lightly, really allowing herself to enjoy this guy that she barely knew and at most should have hated. He just was so sweet and up her alley for her to ever admit but he undoubtedly made an effort to come to this party for her. She hadn't realized until she looked down and saw him looking up at her again from her feet. She could kill for his eyes and the way he collapsed on her legs to just touch them, it was sending electricity as dull needy aches through her body. "Vincent~... what are you doing?"

"Admiring your body... listening to you talk.. thinking about how i can get my jacket back," he croaks stretching a little, lightly throwing his head back on the bed, "What you thinking?"

"Have you come down yet?" She asked cutely, and instantly panicked at her casual feelings of interaction with him.

"Not all the way, I'd have to sleep it off mostly or something...sex also resets the clock, but...we're not doing that," he mentions while he rubs his eyes, checking his phone.

Her chest caved when he mentioned sex, and even though he wasn't offering it up, she just wondered what it would feel like to be that close with a guy like him. If this is all he usually did, outside of being a homewrecker as she's heard, then maybe he's not a creep. Girls do lie in college for any reason, but always putting themselves at an advantage. "Uhh.." seeped out of her mouth before she bit her lip and tried to disguise that.

"You know I'm looking right at you, right?" He says to her, giggling at her embarrassment, "Don't feel like you have to...I know you've got a problem with peer pressure-"

"I don't!...I don't have a problem with peer pressure..shut up!" She bit at him.

"Rawr...calm down kitty cat, put the claws away..Im just saying. Me mentioning sex kinda made you think," Vincent said, "When's the last time you got some..if you have gotten any- cus I have came across a few virgins..."

"Were they virgins when you were done with them?" She asked tongue in cheek.

"Mostly. I respeected that they didn't want sex...and they're firm in their beliefs that they're still a virgin if thou therein whereto receive or produce cunnilingus... they just want neverending head. It's heroine to them," he explains gesticulating to make it interesting and twisting his voice.

"Isn't that a good thing?" She asked, loosening her grip on the pillow she was holding.

"I don't mind it... but sometimes they're horrible at head and that's all they can do. Girls at this school count the ass too, so even face-fucking is a far cry."

"Oh..okay...Uhhh..I haven't thought about it, honestly.. been kinda dealing with my issues over having sex. The stories I hear about hooking up really have weirded me out.." she's admitted.

"Are you a virgin?" He asked, exaggerating his inflection.

"Unfortunately no.. well, I consider myself a born-again...I don't really remember a lot of the sex I used to have, and since it was... traumatic, to say the least, I'd rather act like it didn’t happen and get more memorable experiences, cus...I heard it's fun if done right," she explained.

"It is...I'll keep it in mind.." he nodded with a smirk, sighing as a weak wave passed thru him.

"Yeah.. but.. you've peaked my curiosity, honestly," she jumped up to say, causing Vincent to turn his head and raise an eyebrow.

"I hardly think that's fair," he said with a giggle, "You took a valium and a muscle relaxant..you'll never cum or cum too much. Im fucked up, and not exactly of consenting or open to communicating during sex like you might need me to..."

"That's... true.. then why touch my legs if you weren't going to?" She asked, a little frustrated, kicking her legs a little.

"See? That's what I'm talking about!... Acting like a brat when you haven't asked for anything," he said, giggling.

"But...I..." she started, realizing herself that he was right.

"You didn't straight up ask for sex.. you implied that it interests you..I can't start anything off implications," he explained, sitting up.

"I know how consent works, don't fucking patronize me!" She snapped shoving his chest with her foot. He falls back and rolls his eyes, which makes her more riled up, throwing his jacket on the floor.

"Leda.. what the fuck?" He asked sitting up on his knees to look at his jacket, "What the hell is your problem?"

"Don't act all fucking innocent! I know you.. you're a damn dog and you would've had me 5 ways to Sunday by now! Rosanna told me how creepy and controlling you are-"

"Thaaaaat's who it is... see i knew it sounded familiar.. You're her rogue drone! I just didn't realize... are you spying on me? Did she send you?" He jumped up once he realized why she knew him, her name would come up with he spoke to Rosanna, possibly whenever they were speaking again.

"Wh-No! She's not even at this party! She's with Mark!" She fussed, "It doesn't mean she's wrong..."

"Uh that's exactly what the fuck it means-"

"Why should I listen to you?" She prodded, folding her arms.

"You've got this fucking far! Wouldn't you want to at least understand my side? Ms. Confectionery Prodigy got some skeletons of her own," he was quick to explain how they had a fleeting relationship that was mostly roleplay meetings and oral and heavy petting. Leda wasn't entirely convinced and he made her promise not to tell anyone before he showed their messages leading up until the first 3 months she was dating Mark. It was Ro no doubt. Her fantastical language and promptness in response, pastry emojis as her signature. Cookie's toys in her explicit pictures.

"That's ridiculous..so she just left you for dead?" Leda asked, knowing she just swore never to speak of this, but she had some questions because he'd seen a side of her not even Mark has seen. And probably never will. "Why?" She asked simply.

"Said I reminded her of her ex. She was in deep with the guy.. he was older so she felt like her freedom in her youth had kinda been held back, so she went after me and Mark because she just... found herself in the middle of being young at heart but feeling grown and confident...I guess.. but she's always worried about her lies being found out and she loves a secret if she can help it," he said with a shrug, "They way she spoke about him, I'd love to drink with him, but, she's just happy where she is and who was I to stop her? If she hadn't made me a villain then she would have lost everything- from her confidence to her credibility."

"So you just... leave her alone? That's..that's," Leda was almost at a loss, but it was both the most mature and childish and high school thing she had ever heard. This felt like the heaviest thing she's encountered in a while.

"Not for you to think about," Vincent said, quickly and low as he had inched closer to brush her hair behind her ear, "Humans are complex creatures.. weaving these dangerous webs of lies and history.. you should always worry about your own but don't ever give anyone the benefit of the doubt.."

Leda couldn't handle his gentle touch or his words, she wanted to still be mad and hate him for it but she didn't know how. She wanted to be mad at Ro for being such a hypocrite but most of that was pushed back when she felt his lips on her jawline. It made her shudder and lean into him, submitting herself into the kiss that could replace her first kiss. She wanted more, she wanted him. Her mouth pushed out little sounds against him, whining quietly when he pulled back and breathed with a smile. "Vincent~" she breathed, her head in a tizzy.

"You want it don't you?" He asked, his lower voice sending shivers through her body.

"Can I have more, though, ..of what you gave me?" She asked, "I-"

"Later, okay?.. You'll be fine without it," he interrupted her with a soft smile and backing up to give her space to breathe and rubbing her back.

“Uhm...I feel like-”

“You’re overwhelmed...it’s okay. You seem confused, and it scares you a little...”

“I wouldn’t say it scares me..I just have never related to someone I now wish I hadn’t met..so much so..Because..Rosanna...Rosanna would-” the girl gasped and controlled her hollow breathing, definitely happy she had his hand on her back to focus on.

“You don’t know what Rosanna would do..and you really thought you’d known her..is that it?” he asked.

“Y-Yes!..N-No~! I-I mean...I don’t know how I feel~ I’m really into you, but...but why me?!” she asked looking at him with slight exasperation.

“You look like you deserve not to be living in someone’s shadow just because you don’t see yourself that way,” he answered.

“Is that what you said to Rosanna?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“No..what I said to Rosanna to start our whole fling is..vastly different from just us talking about a mutual friend-”

“What about my current state makes you think I’m gonna be friends with her-”

“You wouldn’t throw her away for me..”

Leda leered at the Vincent and clenched her jaw, knowing that this whole night was something she’d throw her whole life away just so she’d know where in the world he’d whisk her away to and for how long. “And what if I did?” she asked at a low whisper.

“What do you think you’d deserve for doing that? Because I definitely didn’t ask you to renounce your gods and join my great legion of the undead...”

“This would totally work if I was a Virgo or a Taurus, but I’m a Leo, so you must not understand-”

“I’m a Sagittarius, and I’m attempting to be very patient but since I know I don’t have to I’ll call you stupid to your face. That would be one of the dumbest decisions you could make but the fact that I make you feel like you’d rather make that decision than live with the ‘what-ifs’ or knowing that you could never look at Rosanna the same way again because I arouse you intellectually and emotionally-”

“Don’t forget sexually-”

“And sexual- Really?” Vincent looked over at her.

“You talk a lot, I see why she liked you...” 

“You hate talking about yourself-”

“I can talk about myself-”

“You can’t even tell me you want to have sex with me let alone that you like me..also, I feel like that should be thought about after tonight...given the circumstances,” Vincent sitting up, backing away from her more. It causes the girl to stare at him at the loss of touch completely, pushing out a frustrated sigh. The air was tight to her, but Vincent rolled his eyes and pulled the glass rod from his jacket pocket in front of her and smoked out of it.

“So...could you maybe stop being an aloof prick and explain to me how to get laid?” she said while pulling the ponytail out of her hair and taking the rod from his fingers and smoking out of it.

“You want to fuck me specifically or you want some faceless hookup?” he asked giggling.

“What exactly is a faceless hookup, Vincent?” she asked, her eyes meeting his again for the first time in a while and still couldn’t keep herself together. His hand was gently over hers and she deciding on playing with his fingers, biting her lip.

“Well, first off, you’d have to take off your clothes...then I’d suggest a brief makeout session before first or second base- given that my way of doing these things is slow mostly-”

“I dunno if I have the patience for slow,” Leda said quickly as she slid off the side of the bed and stood up, pulling her pants down and deciding to undo the knot that kept her shirt up, hiding her midriff. Then got back to Vincent as he tried to watch, but his mind flowed with ideas. He pushed himself forward, planting his feet on the floor and taking off his boots. He looked up at Leda, who was waiting for him patiently, which made him smirk as he stood up and gave way to his jeans.

“You don’t have the patience for slow?” he echoed.

“Nah, never did. Guys usually don’t take their time with me or they had made up their minds already and I hadn’t gotten a choice,” she explained, hoping her shirt hid her thighs rubbing together at the crooner in front of her. She could feel her anxiety rise in an interesting way as Vincent saw right through her. “Vincent-” she didn’t mean to breathe.

He raised his eyebrows as he heard the wind whisper his name, and he quickly moved around her to make the back of her more aligned to the back of the bed. She gasped a little as she heard his phone and wallet hit the nightstand and did a magician’s gesture to make a condom appear between his fingers, “Not yet, though.”

“Why?” she asked.

“You tell me,” he said, gently taking her waist into his hands and Leda could barely hold in her exhale and moan as it felt so slight as her body moved into it. All of the thoughts started flooding and so did the memories. She felt like he could be there at any second, but there was Vincent blocking him. Her body ached a bit at how he just froze. “Your lips look so soft and plush..and I like your hair down like this.”

The girl tried to hide, but it was met with another squeeze, “V-Vincent~” she sputtered as he kept yanking her out of her head, feeling the muscle relaxants and the weed mix. 

“You alright, babe?” he asked softly in her ear, being sure to not touch her elsewhere. Leda didn’t understand why she felt this way. 

“No..” her voice shook as she gulped, “My head’s going crazy but my body’s not..and I want to be terrified, but that’s..just..not what I’m feeling...What was in that tube thing?..” She finally asked.

“Weed obviously...not even the stuff I sold tonight. It’s a preview from the guy I buy off of-”

“I don’t really smoke grass-”

“Is it because THC can be a psychostimulant?”

“Ye-yes!..I feel like-” she cut herself off and took in his cologne instead. She couldn’t let him know what all she was thinking. It wouldn’t make sense. She would look more certifiably crazy then. Her mouth pushed out half of moan as she exhaled his scent where she tasted the cigarette and the fact they had been at a college house party. 

“I was gonna tell you to take a deep breath but you did it already-”

“Are you...Are you gonna fuck me or not?” she balled up her fists.

“If you would let me fucking finish and stop interrupting me solely to say something that would piss me off then yes!” Vincent said as he let her sides go and folded his arms.

“Not my fault you drugged me and are taking your time..” she folded hers and looked away from him, not wanted to meet his eyes.

“So what, I was supposed to brazenly assau- Ooooohhhhhh....You’re not mad at me..And...I just became mad at myself for realizing it-”

“What?” she asked, whipping her head towards his.

“You don’t know how to enjoy it, because you’ve never been given the option..nor the opportunity,” he mentioned, returning his hands to her sides quickly. 

“What?!” Leda asked, more surprised and now sent back through those thoughts of him touching her again, “You do-don’t know if I-”

“You told me you did..I dunno if it changed..did it?” putting slightly more pressure to allow her to embrace him.

“Ugh~..no..” she once again cursed herself on the inside from only getting a hug from being revved up by his hands lingering on her waist and lower back. Part of her just wanted to let go, or at least tell him to- since part of her completely trusted him. He passed the tests. He was so close to figuring her out and it angered her how clandestine he could carry himself through it all. Her body relaxed into the long hug and waited for this to not be real. For Vincent to pop a hard-on or something so that she knew he was doing all of this because he was still plastered and wanted to bed her. It was hard to expect him to do that when he would talk and his hands wouldn’t really move. And when he moved he tried to stay quiet. Leda’s arms started to move once again, snaking her arms up and crossed them behind his neck, “B-be...be gentle, alright?” she pulled back slightly to meet his eyes- gods those eyes- and his hair in his face before kissing him.

x

Leda was at Vincent’s again, no longer afraid of him or his touch, if anything, he’s the only one whom she trusted. Before she would be ready to fight if anyone tried to touch her, and obviously Vincent was given exclusive access. However, Vincent had to always do something to salvage their experiences, and there were times where he didn’t have it in him. 

The fresh couple lived through such a visceral honeymoon stage that Leda couldn’t think that a guy could have loved her more than the one who was after Cameron. She tried so hard not to think about it. One evening Leda was excitedly waiting for Vincent in the car while he made a sale. This is how they started dating and it just became something she found herself doing before she stopped staying in her dorm and sleeping at Vincent’s apartment. He came back and put everything in the trunk before getting in the car and only resting his head in his arms over the steering wheel with a huge sigh.

“Baby..you ok?” she asked as she sat up and rubbed his back. 

“No..” he said quietly, desperately trying to keep himself together. 

“Well..we..we gotta go..or..are we going somewhere?” Leda said, looking up and looking around.

“I have to go back in there...It’s not like..I mean you don’t care right?” he finally says when he sits up and pushes his hair back.

“How can you even ask me that question?” Leda looked at him, coming off louder than she expected, “What do you mean?”

“We’re not...This isn’t..Look it’s a party in there and...I wanna be single tonight. Like my boss, he’s- fucking treating me to the party in there and I can’t tell him you’re in here and you don’t do parties so-”

“I never said I don’t do parties. I don’t do party drugs and uncomfortable situations-”

“Your whole life is an uncomfortable situation, Leeds,” Vincent chuckles lightly, reaching in a pocket for his cig he started before he went in the first time, “It’s not gonna take me that long, babe..”

“Wait! You’re actually going back to the party?” she pushed her hand on his chest, then shook her head slowly, “What the fuck?”

“I’m going back in, yes. To enjoy the party? No...To probably get my dick sucked by a drunk Sean McLoughlin cus he’s been walled up and he said he would?..Yea-” he gave her some theatrics before turning away.

“NOO!” she snatched his shoulder, “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“What? You’re not going to do anything about it. And it’s not gonna change anything with..us..per say...it’s just I’m having sex with Sean tonight,” he tried to explain.

“I’m not fucking stupid! That’s if I allowed you to! Who put you at the head of this relationship?” she looked at him, perplexed and angry.

“Who put you at the head of this relationship? Listen, half of this problem is the fact that I fuck other people. The other half would be the disrespect of dishonesty and I’m not giving you that!” he said trying to deescalate the situation.

Leda was so upset and couldn’t believe that he was just trying to brush off cheating in her face. He had brought up a few good points, so maybe he doesn’t understand how this hurts her, “Ok but you’re not respecting my additional choices, the fact that I may feel some type of way about it- You just came in here and told me you’re gonna fuck Sean!”

“Is it because it’s Sean specifically?” he asked, pulling back a little.

“Urgh! No! Well-..no, because...I should call Mark because he should be home right now,” Leda tried to say, feeling caught up by his question and now enraged that she felt anything because he was still in the wrong. 

“We can drop him off,” he shrugged and chuckled before looking over to her, “Oh come on! I wouldn’t not stop the car or anything like that. I’d make sure he’s sober or at least hydrated...but he looks like he could blow off some steam and he gets a safe ride home. You can bring him in his dorm, tuck him in, let Mark know he got back in one piece- fuck! Knowing Musclebound Buffpants he’s probably on his way because Sean probably called him accidentally on purpose.”

“He’s with Ro tonight..she told me he’s being held hostage for the night,” she interjected with not as much energy, “Why won’t you take him in? You’re the guy!”

“I’m in the running to apply for Alpha president..I don’t have good luck with being seen in a good light..You know that, you came from the factory,” Vincent  scoffed, before finishing the cig and flicking the butt out of the window and blowing the smoke with it, “And so because Ro is with her future husband, you have to play pretend with me?”

“No! Can’t we just...like hang out?! What the fuck is your problem?” Leda snapped at him, throwing her hands up.

“This! This moment right now and everything about it is my problem, Leda!” Vincent snapped back, “Answer me this, am I your boyfriend?”

“No, I-”

“Right. Not your boyfriend. And you’re not my girlfriend. You won’t let us call us an us...and why is that again?”

“Because you’re a fucking prick.”

“Ah no..sorry, we were looking for you care too much about Ro’s opinion and your social status with her friendship.”

“No I fucking don’t! I don’t need to be with her like that!” she defended weakly.

“Listen, if you don’t like what I’m doing then take my car and do whatever the fuck you want and I’ll call you in an hour. Go back to my place, go fuck someone else, go have a some weird lesbian fantasy about your best friends and deny it in an attempt to keep them because you know you don’t have a chance. Go hang with someone else, actually fucking take your meds and do your homework for once-”

“Shut up, Vincent!” she yelled as she shoved him, causing him to abruptly get up, slamming the door shut and wrangling his car key off his ring and tossing it in the car. Leda had screamed when he shut the door, holding her arms up defensively as she heard the keys fly into the car through the driver’s window and hit the dashboard.. the girl cried for several minutes and contemplated going into the party, but it was too dangerous. She realized she shouldn’t have come with him. She takes his car and has a night out of her own, knowing Charlie was probably aching for some human contact. 

X

Vincent couldn’t believe he actually was able to move in. He was already so excited to be the Alpha house president, even if not everyone agreed with him. Rosanna dutifully worked under him and kept herself busy, vowing to herself and to Mark that they almost never see one another unless it concerns the house. Vincent could still see every moment they had together. He doesn’t ignore her lingering looks and touches while they tried to quickly check and proof records and evaluations and documents for the house. She didn’t regret no looking back when she could still steal glances from the very corners of her eyelids and faintly think of Mark for a second. Allowing their imagery, their voices, their strength to overtake her for a fleeting moment before she was brought back and remembered the business at hand. 

Since Leda disappeared with his car a few weeks back, Vincent hadn’t a clue what came over her after one fight on one night. She hadn’t known where she’d gone, but didn’t know what Cyr had done with the things of hers that she left. She went up to the registry and seen that Cyr lived in Alpha now. She had remembered him very vaguely discussing running for Alpha president, but hadn’t really cared about it at the time- she thought he wouldn’t get it. Vincent was going over the printout of the proposal for an event that Rosanna had suggested to boost revenue and new pledge turnout when he got a shiver, and it made him play it off by rolling his neck. “You ok?” Ro cooed, rubbing his shoulders, Vincent sinking in.

The girl had found out that he had done away with his off-campus apartment for Greek Row, so she took the long walk going up from the office. Ro hadn’t been this sweet on him, and she didn’t know what came over her in this moment to try her luck- to see if it still pulled the same, to see if it was still like lighting a fuse, to see if he remembered her. She couldn’t help herself taking in his relaxation into her hands and watching him push his glasses off, “Ah..yeah uh...You’re just gonna have to come back for the second..revision...tomorrow- I..I don’t think I’m gonna get this done,” he said, rubbing his face and taking a few more breaths before taking both her hands in his swiftly and gently, bringing them on top of one another, and closing them in his as he directed her to come from behind him. He locked eyes with her as he slowly stood up, towering over her as he let her hands fall, hearing the light gasp as her hands fell. The lanky man turned back around, having already excusing himself past her to start gathering the papers on the table, at her noise, “You alright, doll?” he asked plainly and still killed her.

Leda knew somewhere that maybe if she could admit her side of the story, things would be smoother. She could definitely talk to Ro about Cyr than to Cyr about Ro, and since no one can know, it felt even more important. She admired all the people around and the new faces for a mundane weekday on campus as she strolled onto Greek Row, seeing the lights on and the Congratulations banner still up from his apparent celebration. Vincent felt the shiver again as he put his shirt back on and played it off by adjusting it. Ro was long gone, but it was another isolated moment of quick stimulation. All she ever wants is to be touched, and he knew all the right spots and loved the noises she made when he did get them just the right way. It didn’t worry Leda much that Ro wasn’t answering her phone at this time of day, she probably fell asleep after a brisk walk with Cookie. Joey sang her praises for her return and spoke of the boy who’s car she’d stolen and no longer had. “Leda~..wow...I wasn’t sure what happened, but you can come get all your stuff- uh...I dunno if you wanna talk or anything-”

“Who is she?” Leda asked, pushing past him and wiped her finger across his lips then showing him, “Whoever it is, it’s a cute color..”

“Leda, I think you owe me an explanation-” he said flatly, pulling off his shirt entirely and wiping his face.

“Is my room in here still good?” she asked as she immediately started picking out and finding clothes. She was safe here again, she didn’t need to hide. 

“I let them give it up for more room, we had an influx of- Stop that...Leda, talk to me-” he said, strolling over before getting a hand to the chest.

“Congrats on becoming President, baby~! How about..we celebrate?..Just you and me! Just like before! Hm? I wanna take a shower first, though, cus I’ve been...traveling all day,” she led him into the bathroom as she turned the shower on.

“Can we talk while you shower?” he asked, standing and filling the doorway, “You know this whole suite is mine. So it really is just us.”

“Nah..you, me, the spirits I brought with me and that are on these grounds, the gods and goddesses, and Rosanna’s lace dainties?” she said as she picked the light lace cheeky underwear on the bathroom floor, “Let me take my shower alone, please.”

~

Vincent sat out and cleaned up his room a little bit, chain-smoking as he wasn’t sure what was going to happen when the girl got out of the bathroom. Leda didn’t really understand how she felt the way she did, and why she wasn’t angry at Ro. Why was it a little more interesting to know she was still going to Cyr to get her rocks off? She opened the door to Vincent’s surprise, not wearing anything else but her t-shirt bra and a dainty lace thong. Her hair falling over her curves just right, and he couldn’t help but follow her with his eyes. She had grown up into her shape more, maybe not as much colour on her still plush soft skin, but there’s now tattoos and her hair is as vibrant a colour can be when he met her. She smiled at him, even though she wasn’t smiling on the inside, and she straddled his waist on his bed. She lured him into a kiss and an energy boost he’d missed from her- the world felt more at balance and it made sense with their lips pushed together. “I missed you..so much..” he breathed, unable to hold back his overwhelming comfort.

“Your car broke down and I left it on the side of the road in Oregon..I sold the drugs out the trunk and ran into some ex...problems,” Leda started, “Did some cat and mouse and travelling and yeah..I..I missed you, too Vincent~” 

“That’s fine...but..why’d you leave in the first place?” Vincent asked laying back as she worked on kissing his neck and grinding. The girl stopped and avoided his eyes, “Leda...Leda baby you can tell me..I’ve been waiting about a year to know...” he reassured her as he leaned up to embrace her and kiss her shoulder.

“I-....I..He said he was gonna find me, and the stick had a plus on it and I was gonna show you when we got home, but even I didn’t wanna go home so...” she stiffened as she explained, moving her fringe out of her face, shrugging.

“You were pregnant?” he asked, eyes immediately darting down, “Did you lose it?”

“I...I just didn’t want you to get upset and I didn’t want him to find me if I-”

“Ok Ok...I don’t care about that..What happened to the baby, Leda?” he asked her pulling her in and rubbing her back.

“I lost her...” her voice broke, “I can’t have kids...he’ll find me. He did this to me...”

“Hey, hey, hey...Hey, look at me, Leeds. Alright?..I’m not mad about the car..I’m not mad that you had to handle things with your ex..and I’m not mad about the baby...” Vincent said, “I just wanted to know if you were ok..And that I wasn’t holding your stuff and you didn’t need it anymore..”

Leda couldn’t help her tears and was so glad she had a fresh naked face to let herself cry in. “I-I-It’s not that I didn’t want her, I just..she didn- I dunno what happened...” she tried to say while she cried.

“It’s alright, babe..Don’t worry. She’ll come when she’s ready, okay? And when she does I have no doubt she’ll be as beautiful, smart, and creative as her wonderful mother,” Vincent said, rubbing her back some more, “Listen, next time you get knocked up, I’ll take care of you...I’ll make sure nothing happens to you...I’ll keep you safe.”

“Vincent~ you can’t..no one can..he’s always gonna find me,” Leda whined, shaking her head quickly, “He’ll kill you.”

“Not if I kill him first and even then, I’m giving all of this to you. You deserve not to worry. You deserve safety, babe,” he said, “Is that why you were at my apartment?’

“Yes, but you don’t live there anymore-”

“I’m subleasing until I graduate from here...or I get tired of these people finally,” he chided.

“And how long do you think that’s going to last?..Especially if it’s you and Ro..” she started chuckling lightly.

“I don’t think it’s gonna be me and Ro for much longer, anyway,” he sighs, letting the girl off his lap and onto his bed as he got up to start turning the lights down and closing off his room from his office, “Don’t get me wrong- it’s exciting! It really is, but she shouldn’t be doing that. She’s...gonna need that wakeup call.”

Leda sat and waited for him and lit one of his cigs from the box on the nightstand even though he opted for the little glass tube, “What do you mean?”

“She’s still careless, she’s playing with fire...She didn’t want everybody to know but she’s had-like- two scares...She’s gonna tell you when she finds out that you’re back,” he said, hushing his voice like she was in his office. Leda was shocked to say the least, but she liked Vincent for that: he held onto the only side of her she was never proud of.

“Like...pregnancy scares-”

“No STI- yes pregnancy scares! Told me that she didn’t want to get rid of the kid but didn’t want to think of losing the life she was building with Mark and wanted all of the kids she had to be in their happily ever after or whatever shit...you know Rosie..” Vincent snapped, clearly still emotional and indignant, smoking more frequently as he stress-cleaned his room. Leda was stunned. It wasn’t exactly something she expected from someone who craved so much stability and control- safety. 

“How...”

“She disappeared. Like three times, She told everyone she went to visit family. I saw her and she stayed with me for like..a few days..and we just hung out how she wanted us to. She never left because nobody could know that she was back yet. So when she did return it was like she picked up Cookie from the sitter on her way home from the airport...I liked it, but..when she told me all of that over those days and she told me about being President and how she would eventually hate me enough to overthrow me and then she’ll have her life with Mark and I’ll leave the Youni...”

“So then...when’s the last time you saw Ro?” Leda asked, frightened slightly by what she heard. And part of her wanted to fight her. It wasn’t much of her business but as a friend and as a human that’s not something she should get away with. 

“You didn’t see her going to the Vice President’s suite?..Or the girls’ side? Kitchen?...Cus she literally just left when you had knocked on my door,” Vincent paused and stared at her with a squint.

“Nope,” Leda admitted shaking her head and threw her hands up, “Honestly I didn’t really get here until I told you I lost the baby and by then I kinda knew that I could let it go I guess..because now I feel fine..”

“Weird...I had a weird feeling the whole time she was here that someone was coming..I didn’t think they were alive so I didn’t think anything of it...This is all..you know, Indigenous grounds, not necessarily burial, but sacred space tends to pop up when they’re talking...”

“That’s weird...but highly likely..Western U.S. does have some crazy energy pockets,” Leda said, blushing a little that he knew she was coming, “Are they leftover or residual? The panties, I mean..” She giggled.

“I couldn’t tell ya, but I’d have to guess that she left those in my bathroom because it was very apparent she wasn’t wearing any, but I thought she had come over commando..Didn’t think she committed to the idea while she was in the bathroom. I guess that’s what she’s gonna wait for me to say something about. Can’t lie, I’m gonna miss how smart she is,” he said with a smile and waves of realization of what he liked about the girl after not knowing for so long.

“Clearly not smart enough,” Leda scoffed, “If she’s pulling the ‘I had to go to my mother’s for a summer so I can have an abortion and therapy’ this early in the relationship and they’re still going strong, maybe it’s that you’re not gonna judge her and she can kinda reward herself with you and vice versa- definitely a karmic soulmate...” She smiled again as she realized that they might be a particular soulmate or at least spiritual partner. “Vincent, sit down, please,” she asked sweetly. He sat back down and she rubbed his shoulders, sighing, “I’m sorry, Vince...Like that’s really shitty and I’m..so..sorry, babe..but like that’s what happens when you gamble.”

“It would help if you’d taken responsibility for running out on me fucking months ago,” Vincent bit at her, “Maybe I wouldn’t have leaned on her so much...chasing fucking waterfalls,” he scoffed.

“Wow you’re really gonna sit here and blame me?” she backed up, raising her voice.

“No! I said take some fucking responsibility! Like do you understand how you’re no better sometimes?” he said.

“Oh my- FUCK YOU! Who the fuck are you?!” Leda snapped, shoving his shoulder and getting up.

“Will you keep your voice down?!” he whispered quickly standing up and taking her arm in his hand gently.

“Don’t fucking touch me!-”

“Or what?! You’ll scream? Ro’s gonna come rushing back in here to check on me to find what? Us fucking fighting about her and as far as she knows you dropped out of school,” Vincent breathed, “No one..and I mean no one..knows about any of that.-”

“WHy are you still trying to defend her?!” she growled as she fights him.

“Same reason I defend you, but not the same because you’re not about to marry some meathead to forget your slutty phase,” he mentioned and the girl released her grip, “Also again with the dick jealousy and arousal over your friend and you screwing me.”

“Stop saying that! It’s not fucking true!” she snapped at him.

“I’ve been talking to college girls for a long time. This is the most bisexual thing two straight girls can do is fuck the same guy and give the guy shit for getting off on the fact that at least one of you wants to fuck their lunchbox friend...and right now, you’re the mad at the Snowflake Queen, Needy.”

Leda stopped and looked at him, “Did you really just use that reference?” 

“It’s true. No matter the reference. I’ve told you that before-”

“You didn’t-”

“Yes I did, you just forgot because we were having fun...you know..dating,” Vincent lit his cig, handing it to her, “My whole thing is I wanted you to have fun without living in Rosie’s shadow.”

“Don’t do that,” she said, smoking quickly going back to the bed before he takes her hand and twirls her and dips her.

“What?” he said.

“Don’t call her Rosie,” she said, blushing hard.

“Why? Cus you’d call her Rosie?” he asked, shotgunning a hit with her.

“Stop saying I wanna fuck Ro, cus I don’t,” she giggled.

“You’d watch me fuck her though,” he inserted, putting the butt in the ashtray as he pulled her in, “Or vice versa.”

“She said she would?” she asked, furrowing her brows.

“Needy, when I say she’s never been worried about you when she’s with me, she’s not. I don’t push her, either. Like I think about you if she says or does something that reminds me of you but other than that she’s in her own little world with me,” Vincent said, caressing the girl, looking away to think. 

“Stop calling me Needy, I clearly look like Megan Fox,” she said, meaning to put herself down.

“No, you’re Needy at the end of the movie after she’s been affected by Jennifer,” he explained, “You were simping and running and screaming while getting teased the whole movie then at the end, even though you kinda lost your guy, you’ll get more..and it’s kinda because she took what was meant for you..even if it killed her..”

“Wow..Vincent..did you just say you loved me even if it kills Ro?” Leda asked, smirking wildly.

“Yeah I guess so.”

#vincent cyr #leda muir #au #ro

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

Just Give Me A Reason

Summary: Virgil has a misunderstanding and lack of communication. Analogical songfic based off Just Give Me A Reason by P!nk

Word Count:  1,336

Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @spoopy-turtle​ 

Special thanks to @lizluvscupcakes for the help on this one!!

It had been almost too easy to fall in love with Logan. Virgil didn’t know if it was the way he paid so much attention to him, or the way he made him feel safe and calm. Soon, Virgil was opening up to him in a way he had never done to anyone before. He showed every vulnerable part of himself, every part that made him think he was unworthy of love. And Logan took them and showed him why he was so wrong about himself. 

It wasn’t long before they had moved in together, Virgil falling asleep in Logan’s arms every night. He always felt safe and protected, as if his anxiety didn’t exist when he was with him. Virgil was happy, for the first time in what felt like his whole life, he was happy. He should have known it couldn’t have lasted. 

He woke in the middle of night, jolted awake by a nightmare. Rolling over, he tried to snuggle into Logan’s chest to block it out. What he heard made him freeze.

“I’ve had enough.”

Virgil looked up at him, seeing his peacefully sleeping face. He wondered if he had imagined it, but he spoke again. 

“You’re so needy.”

Virgil almost went into a full anxiety attack right there. Instead, he pulled away and crept out of the bed, making his way to the bathroom. He splashed water on his face before staring at himself in the mirror. “Am I really that needy?” He asked the empty room. He sighed, shaking his head as he went back to bed.

He kept a distance between them, facing away and putting a pillow against his back. Logan wasn’t there when he woke up the next morning. He made himself breakfast, the words from last night swirling around his head. He went about his day, the words hovering over him like a cloud.

When Logan got home, Virgil avoided him. He went out of his way to not acknowledge him, to not be in the same room as him for prolonged periods of time. He knew this might be petty, but he wanted to show that he wasn’t needy, and didn't need to be around him every second. 

When he was feeling hungry, he made dinner for the both of them. He left Logan’s dinner next to him before trying to retreat back to his hiding room. Logan caught his free hand before he could get far, holding it between both of his own. “Virgil, are you alright?” His voice was as soft and kind as ever.

Virgil didn’t look at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just want some alone time. Why, did you need something?”

“I was hoping to continue watching our show from last night. But, if you really need alone time, I understand.”

Virgil’s heart ached as he walked away, the words from last night, “You’re so needy,” coming back to buzz in his ear, an almost forgotten whisper.

He spent the rest of the evening in his room, coming out only to put his plate in the sink and clean up from cooking. When it was time for bed, he was already lying down with the pillow against his back again. Logan came up and kissed Virgil’s neck, whispering a “Good night, Starlight,” before laying down as well. 

The next day was almost a repeat of the first. Virgil’s space was respected as they slept with the pillow between them and Logan was gone before he woke up. When Logan got home, Virgil had his headphones on while reading and had lost track of time. He looked up to see his boyfriend standing in the doorway, an unreadable expression on his face. Virgil nodded to him before going back to his book and music.

Logan came closer, sitting on the couch next to Virgil, who scooted away a little. Logan responded by staying where he was, respecting Virgil’s space as always. When he delivered Logan’s dinner, he once again asked him to stay and eat with him. Virgil couldn’t look at him, wondering if Logan was planning on breaking up soon. “No, thanks. I think I’ll turn in once I’m done eating.” He retreated back to the room, coming out again to wash the dishes only to find that Logan had already done them. 

This went on for almost a week before it was stopped. The weekend rolled around and Virgil found the bed empty when he got up so he sleepily went to grab a toaster strudel before starting his next art commission but found the kitchen occupied. “Wha. . . ?” His voice trailed off.

Logan turned around, apron wrapped around his waist and spoon in hand. “You’re not supposed to be up yet. It’s a Saturday.”

Virgil frowned, waking the rest of the way up in an instant. “Let me guess, I’m looking needy again?”

Logan looked at him in confusion. “What? Why would you think you were being needy?”

“It’s okay to tell me that you’ve had enough of me. It’s alright so say that we’re broken. I know that we’re one step away from breaking up.”

Logan turned the stove off and walked around the island. “I’m sorry, Virgil, I don’t understand where all of this is suddenly coming from. I thought we were fine?”

“You do know you talk in your sleep, right?”

Logan sighed. “What did I say this time?”

Virgil blinked. “This time? You mean this isn’t the first time this has happened?”

“No, it’s not. What did I say, Virgil?”

“You said you’ve had enough.” His voice got quiet as tears threatened to fall. “You said I was being too needy. So, I- I tried to give you space. I tried to- I tried to not be as needy with your time. Even though- even though I still love you- love you so much. I tried to stay away- to give you space- when all I really wanted to- to do is-” The sobs took over and he dissolved into tears. 

Logan rushed over and gathered him in his arms. “Your head is running wild again, my dear. I will always love you.” He picked the sobbing mess of a man up in a princess carry and walked over to the couch, sitting with him in his lap. “Our love is written in the stars and nothing can change that.”

Virgil sniffled, his sobs slowing. “Then why did- why did you say I was- I was needy?”

Logan held him close. “I don’t know why I say things in my sleep. They never correspond to anything going on in real life and normally have to do with an obscure dream I don’t remember when I wake up. You have nothing to fear as I, awake and aware, am telling you that I love you and you could never be needy. Not to me, not ever.”

Virgil nodded, nuzzling deeper into Logan’s chest. “Okay.”

“Never think of us as broken. Never think of yourself as broken. If anything, we might go through a rough period but at that point, we will bend, not break.” Virgil smiled into Logan’s chest, feeling a lot better after talking things out. But Logan wasn’t done yet. “Nothing will ever come between us if I can help it. If it does, I will tell you as soon as possible, understand?”

Virgil nodded, not feeling like talking right now. Logan pulled back enough to drop a kiss on the top of his head. “May I get up? I have breakfast to finish.”

Virgil nodded and reluctantly slid off onto the couch. “What are you making?”

“Pancakes and grits as I know you enjoy them. It was supposed to be a breakfast in bed surprise as I thought you weren’t doing so well mentally. It seems I was right to some degree.” 

They spent a peaceful morning together, enjoying each other’s company and enjoying the much missed skinship. They ate their meal before cuddling up under blankets and watching space and cryptid documentaries.

#analogical #songfic #virgil sanders #logan sanders #fanfic #ace writes

[teeentyonepilots]

Hohoho it’s me, your Secret Santa, @neds-bayou !! It’s been great talking to you and I hope you have a fantastic day with lots of fun and celebration! I am so excited to reveal who I am so we can talk for real!

For your gift, I wrote you a fic and I hope you like it! I used some of your favorite story elements.

Merry Christmas, Hannah!!

Tyler knew he was the world’s biggest chicken but he swore he had good excuses as to why he’s never confessed his true feelings to Josh. From the moment he met Josh, he knew—over a year later able to recall longingly the dim lighting, a hue of red over his downright adorable face from the exit sign overhead which heralded their fateful meeting. Josh’s smile burnt into his retinas, and his handshake imprinted into the whirls of Tyler’s fingerprints.

Falling so quickly in love— something he was hesitant to even saying, feeling like it was too cliche— was unexpected and Tyler didn’t realize it for at least two months, and denied it for another six. After a lot of introspection and agonizing, he finally came to the conclusion that he was completely and deeply in love with Josh. They were just so compatible and everything worked so well.

Josh even pointed out early on how they were soulmates, in so many words.

“Dude, it feels like I’ve known you in like all my past lives, or something. I’ve never been this close to someone so fast and with anyone else I would feel uncomfortable telling that to, but with you…. man, I know you get what I mean.”

Tyler knew exactly what he meant and at the time, just agreed and acted like it was just some cool platonic joke they had, rather than a truth that made his heart race and palms sweat imagining who they were to each other throughout history.

He had a lot to wrestle with in the growth of his friendship with Josh; not just in acknowledging his feelings, but also allowing himself to love another man. While his family turned out to be more accepting over the years, there was still a lot holding Tyler back. The judgements of everyone else echoed horrifically, but worst of all was the thought that Josh wouldn’t accept him. Not having the feelings reciprocated was one thing that Tyler would have to deal with, breaking his heart. But having Josh utterly reject him for being attracted to him? Cutting all ties off? Tyler wouldn’t know what to do if that were to happen.

So he decided to live in waiting for the right moment, when he was finally sure it would turn out okay and he wouldn’t lose Josh in the process.

But there never was a ‘right’ moment. For every ounce of evidence, every nice thing Josh said to him or friend swearing up and down that he liked Tyler back, Tyler couldn’t take the plunge. There were many moments where he knew he was a breath away from planting a huge kiss on Josh’s lips but time and time again, he held back.

Being in a band together only complicated it all. Josh joined the band this past year and Tyler knew he couldn’t say anything after that happened. The music meant everything to the both of them and they made all the sacrifices to say that they didn’t want anything to come in the way of playing shows and touring

Telling Josh that he was in love with him would probably change their dynamic entirely, at worst— he would leave the band. There was too much of a risk so Tyler decided, for now, not to say those three words his heart begged him to say.

“What if I could guarantee it would work out?” Mark said, the usual victim to sit and listen to Tyler pine. “Josh likes you so, so much in return. It’s so obvious when he talks to you, and also when you’re not even there… it’s like you’re both already in a relationship with each other.”

Living with Tyler means he’s physically the closest person for Tyler to complain to, and it was plain he was getting tired of Tyler’s inaction. TV on in the background but Tyler was mid monologue before Mark finally had enough.

“It’s Christmas, just freaking pull him under the mistletoe and kiss him. He will kiss you back.” Mark threw his hands up. “I don’t know what more you want me to say.”

Tyler scoffed, “it's not that easy.”

“I think you’re gonna find out in the end that I’m right,” Mark vowed. Tyler was still doubtful.

…

Tyler also agonized over what gift to buy Josh for Christmas. They both didn’t have much money— most of their funds going towards equipment and touring. He knew Josh would be mad if he bought something expensive because Josh would know that Tyler would have to forgo food or something else just to pay for it.

Mark’s suggestions were less than helpful, in Tyler’s humble opinion. “Dude, just get on your knees, tell him you’re madly in love with him, and then suck his dick while you’re down there. That’s exactly what he wants for Christmas.”

“As much as I really, really want to do that, it’s not possible,” Tyler replied with a pained expression on his face.

“The only person stopping you is you,” Mark pointed out.

The pep talk was helpful but didn’t change anything. Tyler got Josh a cool color-changing X-Files mug filled with chocolate and a new pair of headphones because Josh’s pair broke on the drive home from their last show of the year. His headphones were important to him, helping to stave off his anxious thoughts. Tyler hoped it was thoughtful and meaningful enough.

...

They hosted a Christmas party at the rental house for friends the last weekend before the big day since everyone would be with their own families then. Josh showed up of course, looking festive and downright hot in an atrociously tinseled sweater which he leaned in to whisper in Tyler’s ear that he found it at Goodwill and added more tinsel. He was so close, Tyler could smell cinnamon lingering on his skin from the baking Josh helped his sister with every year.

Josh brought Tyler some cookies and he couldn’t help falling even more in love with him.

Tyler had to dive away from him like a grenade had been thrown— he could sight of Mark trying to sneak up on them with mistletoe on a string dangling from a fishing pole. He was resorting to some devilish tactics to make them kiss and Tyler army crawled away, leaving Josh looking… was that disappointment?

He could’ve cried; as the night wore on, if either of them came within a few feet of each other, Mark or anyone else would appear with the pole and Tyler would run. It was completely counter-productive. Josh and Tyler were incapable of spending any time together. Tyler was about to pull Mark aside to tell him to back the hell off, when a pair of hands grabbed him and pulled him towards the stairs.

“Quick, before they notice we’re gone,” Josh tugged Tyler towards the sanctuary of his room. (Their departure was seen by every person there, and silent fist pumps of celebration filled the room they left).

Josh sat down on Tyler’s bed, the boundary never existed for him. Quieter up here, Tyler felt less frantic with just the two of them, almost hanging out like normal, though Josh is looking at him with an unreadable expression— his eyes soft and endless. Josh patted the bed next to him and Tyler sat with their knees touching.

“Have barely seen you all night,” Josh’s voice was neutral, soft.

Tyler willed his throat to laugh, “it’s cuz of Mark and that stupid mistle-pole or whatever he’s calling it.”

“What? Do you not want to kiss me?” Josh’s voice is still soft, teasing him with a little smile, but Tyler still feels a sudden surge of adrenaline at being called out. “You kissed other people tonight; do I have a disease or something?” He nudged Tyler, “I’m just joking, dude. It’s fine.”

Tyler wasn’t sure if the shaking stayed out of his voice, but he retorted, “yeah, it’s a bad disease. No one else wants to tell you, but you’ve got a terminal case of dumbass-itis. Sorry you had to find out like this.”

Josh laughed and gave Tyler a noogie— pulling his head to his chest to ruffle his hair. “Okay, wow way to ruin Christmas.”

“Speaking of which!” Tyler remembered, “I’ve got your gift here.”

Josh perked up, “oh! Thanks! I completely forgot yours at my place. I guess that’s a symptom of dumbass-itis.”

“It’s all good.” Tyler assured him and grabbed it from under the bed.

“Ew, dude were you storing it with all your cum towels down there?”

“I wrapped it in my jizz tissues, bro,” Tyler shot back and Josh laughed as he unwrapped the mug.

“No way! New headphones! And the mug is awesome— thanks so much, Tyler!” Josh gave Tyler a one armed hug and Tyler smelt cinnamon again.

“Anytime, bro,” he mumbled into Josh’s neck, wishing Mark appeared with the mistletoe so he could finally be brave enough.

“The real gift is letting me be in your band,” Josh kept a hand on Tyler’s shoulder even though he pulled away.

“Our band,” Tyler reminded him. “And you saved the band by joining so I have a lot to be grateful for, with you. Like, not to get super sappy—”

“You just can’t help yourself, dude.”

“Nah, I can’t, but anyway, I dunno how I would be able to do it without you. You’re just… we’re meant to be in a band together and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if we don’t make it, I’m just happy to be doing this with you.”

“Of course we’re gonna make it,” Josh said quietly, putting the mug down, so he could face Tyler completely.

This would’ve been the moment, Tyler knew he would regret it if he didn’t do something. But he felt paralyzed, stuck. He just wanted to know what Josh’s lips felt like against his, would he open up to meet his kiss, and how their bodies would move together. He needed so much, but all he could do with his mouth was whisper his name, “Josh…”

“Yeah?”

“I, Uh, I…. um… you’re… I’m really…”

Tyler never would’ve finished his thought, so Josh answered for him. Hands bracing his shoulders, Josh pulled him closer and pressed their faces together, finally kissing Tyler.

And Tyler knew.

His hands immediately went to the curls on Josh’s head, keeping him in place so he could push all the feelings and thoughts and emotions he had about him into that kiss. Tyler felt Josh’s hands move to brace his body and guide him to press their chests together. It wasn’t enough— they needed to be as close as possible. No words were said as they broke apart from their first, very long, kiss. Just a look communicated that they had to keep going; climbing further on the bed for Josh to lay down and Tyler to sprawl across him.

They continued to makeout for an unknown amount of time, an eternity. Their world condensed to just their lips and bodies against each other— Josh quickly losing his shirt to ‘save the tinsel creation’. Both their mouths were shiny and lips swollen from kissing for so long and so hard. They panted and stared at each other, as if surprised that the person they were with was their bandmate and best friend. Now a new label would be added, and Tyler couldn’t keep back the words he had been hiding behind a dam in his heart.

“Josh, I’m in love with you…. so much.” Tyler told him, pulling back from another long kiss.

“You know I am too,” Josh assured him, kissing his jaw and smoothing Tyler’s hair.

“No, I mean I’m like in love, love with you. I want everything— not just dating but everything with it and beyond. Dude, I wanna grow old with you and… it’s too much to be thinking all that with someone but you’re not anyone. You’re Josh and… I’m just gonna screw it all up.”

“No, you’re not gonna mess it up,” Josh replied. “Trust me, I feel the same exact way. And how could I not feel the same way back? You’re my best friend and so much more and I’ve waited to tell you this for so long.”

Relief. Tyler’s head sagged and rested on Josh’s collarbone. Josh kissed his forehead.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered to Tyler. “You’re the best present I could’ve ever asked for.”

Tyler for once, had no more excuses— his answer was a kiss.

🎄👽

#clique secret santa 2019 #my fics #my writing #joshler #this will go on ao3 after i post my 100th fic #was wondering if you guessed it was me because i purposefully used my sign off in my latest selfie #merry christmas to everyone!!! have a good day!!

[elsa-the-snowbitch]

And tell me some things last

AKA the fic in which I address Matteo’s depression as personally and I hope as gently as possible because I too am a Depressed GayTM (pansexual, but like semantics) 

And also there is David content because of course there is

for Mika, @detroitdavid because he is a real gem 

Sometimes Matteo can’t even tell when it begins. It just creeps up to him, slowly and makes life so much harder to balance like the books on his shelf that are just tethered there by sheer will.

But sometimes, like today, there is just a weight on top of him, a heavy blanket that muffles the world, drowns out all the noises, all the feelings. When he woke up, he already knew that something was different.

He has difficulties with getting out of bed most mornings but this morning, he has to force himself to open his eyes in order to look up at the ceiling. He can’t move, can’t speak and it is not even sadness that brings him down, it is the hollowness in his chest, the emptiness of his room. It is cluttered, clothes strewn around, beer bottles on the table and his nightstand but it is empty at the same time. A true reflection of how he feels.

His phone buzzes on the nightstand and as much as he wants to look, he cannot physically bring his body to move in any direction. It is as if he is stuck, trapped. He didn’t want to just cry like a child but there is nothing he can do about the pillow getting wet.

There is nothing he can do about the fact that he is late for school even if it is only spirit week. Jonas, Abdi and Carlos are waiting for him, he knows that. They wanted to come as a team, as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. But today they will have to make do without Michelangelo. He just can’t. Sara is waiting for him as well and he is not willing to pretend for another day but she was so sad when he rejected her.

Why can’t you tell her? Are you scared?

And yes, he is scared. Terrified of all of his masks crumbling to dust once they know. Panicking at the prospect of his parents knowing. Jonas finding out what he did. Not being able to hang out with the boys anymore because they might be disgusted by him.

Not knowing what David might think of him.

His phone buzzes again and this time it stubbornly carries on buzzing. A call.

It takes such an effort to move his hand, it is as if he is navigating through fog but then finally he is able to pick up his phone.

Jonas. Of course.

“Hey, bro. Abdi, Carlos and I are here in front of the school, man, where are you?” he asks and Matteo swallows. It takes several tries to speak and when he does, his voice is raspy, as if he hasn’t used it in years.

“It’s not good today, dude,” he manages and swallows again. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and he is forcing himself to hold his phone. He cannot force himself to smile or sound positive though and Jonas notices, of course he does. He is his best friend. And he went through a phase like this himself, after Hanna and him broke up.

Your fucking fault, Matteo a voice whispers in the back of his mind but Jonas interrupts it. “I’ll tell the teachers that you aren’t feeling well, okay? We shouldn’t even have classes anyway but hey, the system doesn’t care. Do you want me to come over?”

Matteo is so grateful that he could cry but there is nothing but numbness right now, so he shakes his head, belatedly realising that Jonas can’t see him so he whispers a “No. And can you tell Amira? I just…”

“Sure. No problem. I am busy later but I can ask my study partner in maths to bring you your stuff, okay? He is pretty cool, let me even copy his homework once,” Jonas says and he sounds cheerful. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t just give out your address out to anyone.”

Matteo just hums his acknowledgement and closes his eyes again as Jonas ends the call. Blessed, cursed silence. Faintly he can hear music and laughter down the hall, Mia seems to have a visitor. At least one of them is happy and he envies her for a moment.

The hours seem to stagnate and rush all at once, he hears voices in the kitchen, one moment in all of those hours Hans sticks his head into Matteo’s room to bring him piece of bread with cheese and a glass of tea. He doesn’t say anything, he just carefully kisses Matteo’s forehead as he leaves and again, there are tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. It is such a simple sign of affection and still, it hits Matteo harder than he wanted it to.

The bread and the tea almost taste of nothing but he manages to eat and drink.

Something is better than nothing.

And then the doorbell rings. There is a voice.

“Jonas asked me to bring over Matteo’s stuff for him, so… uh… hi.”

Fuck. It’s David.

David is Jonas bench partner in maths. Why was Matteo never privy to this piece of information?! And why is he here? He shouldn’t see Matteo like this.

“Matteo, my little butterfly, you have a visitor!” Hans calls out and he sighs, rolling over to face the door of his room (his own room. He has his own room). It truly is a mess.

A knock. It is soft and careful, so different from what he has gotten to know David. “Can I come in? Or are you contagious? Jonas told me that you aren’t doing well. I can also just put your stuff in front of your door and… leave.”

Is it just Matteo’s imagination or did David hesitate on that last word?

It is your eyelash. You should know what to wish for.

“No… I… come in. Please.” Matteo’s voice wavers on the last word and he flops back into the pillows, looking up at the pattern of the ceiling as the door opens and David steps in. He waits for a comment, for a derisive scoff, for the door to immediately close again but then the mattress dips and his heart lurches, picks up again in double time. Shit, he is right here. On his bed. Sitting so close that they almost touch but far away enough that Matteo’s heart isn’t in full escalation mode. But he wants. He wants to touch so badly.

For a couple of moments neither of them say anything but then David moves, fumbles in his black backpack (of course it is black) and Matteo just observes him, the line of his neck, the way his black hair curls, his skin that looks as if it would be soft underneath Matteo’s fingertips. Stop. Stop right there.

David makes a triumphant little sound and holds up a headphone splitter and two pairs of headphones, a smile on his face and now there is something underneath all the numbness, the smallest tendril of curiosity, the smallest hint of fondness.

Is he really doing this? Listening to music with someone he is utterly drawn to?

Is he really this stupid?

To answer all of those questions: yes.

“Can I…?” David indicates and there is a brief moment of awkward shuffling until they are both situated on Matteo’s bed, their legs almost touching and this time it is not Sara sitting opposite him, it is David sitting right next to him, here on his bed, holy fuck.

But it’s not Spotify or iTunes or any other music app David opens. Instead he indicates towards Matteo’s laptop that is teetering dangerously close to sliding off the bed, hanging on by force of gravity and dumb luck alone. Much like Matteo is sometimes.

And it is incredibly private to just hand over a laptop, who knows what might be hidden there. Maybe his google search which would really just add to the awkwardness of the situation. But he does. He hands over the thing he spends most of his afternoon on and lets David type away, searching for whatever it is he wants to watch with Matteo.

“No peeking, this is supposed to be surprise,” David gently chides him as Matteo tries to catch a glimpse of the computer screen, a small smile playing on his face and it takes everything Matteo has in him not to stare so blatantly. They are so close that he would be able to count each one of his almost ridiculously long eyelashes. The emptiness is not as noticeable anymore and how can it when the guy he spent nights (and days) thinking of is right here next to him?

“There we go. Found it. It’s live,” David says and hands one pair of headphones over to Matteo. Their fingers brush and his skin begins to tingle, he begins to notice that he has a body, that he isn’t just existing but that he is alive. 

Of course he knows that feelings aren’t the all-heal cure for him, that feelings can be too much in some moments, can drag him down to the bottom where he is currently floating aimlessly while listening to something called Motown with David but they can sit with each other in silence and Matteo doesn’t feel like he has to do anything but be.

“Does this happen often?” David finally asks, his voice careful, as if he is scared to shatter the bubble that has built around them, the comfort. “That you are like this?”

Matteo wants to shrug because that is basically his default mode but he thinks twice. David deserves better than a noncommittal shrug. “Yeah, I…” (be stupid, deflect, make a joke out of it, I am so tired of making it a joke). “It’s the depression,” he finally answers and can feel the corners of his lips struggling to tick up into a smile. Doesn’t work that well. “My dad divorced himself from the situation, my mum is… (crazy, off her rocker, psycho) not doing well and I just. I had to leave. I couldn’t live as a caretaker of my mum when she is supposed to be the adult. I am so tired of feeling lonely and rejected and out of the loop, I…”

He trails off with a sigh, closing his eyes, feeling wrung out and empty, sorry for himself and for David, that he has to witness him being a massively whiny bitch. “Sorry,” he finally says and feels a gentle tug at his sleeve (at his heartstrings) and David looks at him with so much understanding that it almost hurts.

“Hey, no, don’t worry. I get it. You can leave all your word vomit with me, I am good at keeping secrets. The last time someone spilled any secret was the time I had to kill them and move states,” David calms him and there is something in his eyes that speaks of more than just a simple joke. “Let’s just listen to music and not think of anything. Not that that is hard for you.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of Matteo and shoves David gently.

Outside, the clouds disperse slowly and a ray of sunshine carefully creeps its way into the room where two boys are sitting on a bed, sides pressed together like two magnets, listening to music, occasionally smiling at each other.

And it feels easier than anything Matteo has ever done.

#elsa writes stuff #druck #druckdieserie #druck fics #matteo florenzi #matteo x david #otp: entangled particles #i tried you guys #gentle content #depression mention #i wanted to post this on ao3 but I am too lazy #maybe gonna do that soon but not yet #rambling in the tags #this was only supposed to be a little drabble type thing #but no I had to go and escalate into almost 2k of words

[wtnv-panels]

Good Morning Night Vale, episode 5: “Good Morning the Shape in Grove Park”

Symphony: Close your eyes. Let my words wash over you.

Meg: You are safe now.

Hal: Good morning, Night Vale.

Meg: Hello and welcome to Good Morning Night Vale, episode 5, “The Shape in Grove Park”. So my name is Meg Bashwiner, I am your tri-host, co-host, what do you call it when there’s three of us?

Hal: Throst?

Symphony: Three…

Meg: Throst?

Symphony: Aa-aa, I was thinking that too.

Meg: And I am joined today by the beautiful Symphony Sanders…

Symphony: It’s me!

Meg: And the beautiful Hal Lublin.

Hal: That’s me.

Meg: And we’re here to talk to you. We’re here to talk to you.

Hal: We’re just here to talk, but you know what? We also wanna listen.

Symphony: [chuckles]

Hal: That’s not gonna work for this show.

Meg: Let’s all listen right now.

Hal: Alright, let’s just listen for half an hour. [long beat] Has it been 30 minutes?

Symphony: That would be terrible.

Meg: Yeah, felt like it.

Hal: Yeah, that felt like 30 minutes of listening.

Symphony: So hey guys! What are we, what do we do in this show, huh?

Meg: We recap and chat about episodes of the hit popular podcast, This American Life, no.

Symphony: Is that popular?

Meg: It was, it was like one of the first podcasts, but I don’t think anyone listens, I don’t think they make that anymore.

Hal: I’m just glad a show exists where somebody recaps and analyzes Joe Rogan’s podcast, and we are those three people!

Meg: No we’re here to analyze and recap the hit popular podcast Welcome to Night Vale.

Hal: That too.

Meg: And this week we’re talking about “The Shape in Grove Park”, which is described as “A protest against the removal of the shape in Grove Park that no one acknowledges or speaks about, plus changes to the school curriculum, a growing tarantula problem in town, and musical auditions”. So that’s a pretty hefty description for lots of things that happen this episode.

Symphony: There are lots of things that happen in this one. Well, first of all, the fact that it’s called the shape and is a shape in, that Cecil repeatedly asked to get a statement from it, and sometimes it quivers or something, but that freaks me out a little. I don’t know about you guys.

Hal: That scared you? Did you get a little scared listening to it? It’s creepy.

Symphony: Well-

Hal: There is a creepy experience to like when you listen to it, especially with headphones, because like the sound picture being painted is so specific that it can, it can creep you out.

Meg: Yeah absolutely. So we’re talking about “The Shape in Grove Park”, so there’s this monument, this landmark, which reminded right away of the removal of confederate statues.

Symphony: [chuckles] Right!

Meg: I was like, this is another one of those like creepy foreshadowing to the public removal of statues where in this case it’s like, no one talks about it or acknowledges it but it’s still really important. That’s kind of the vibe there whereas with confederate statues, we all talk about it and it’s important and we should tear them down, but… [laughter] It’s this kind of similar discussion about public space and monuments and interacting with them.

Symphony: Yes and the City Council isn’t very helpful with all of that at all. Aren’t they trying to make sure, they’re trying to save it right, so they end up putting it in front of the studio in and trouble ensues, obviously.

Meg: Yes. So this is kind of a monumental, monument, monumental episode in the sense that this is where Cecil gets a name.

Symphony: Oh right!

Meg: This is where Cecil gets the name Cecil.

Symphony: I always forget about that, that he’s just like nameless narrator until a certain point. But he still doesn’t have a last name.

Meg: No. And he doesn’t get a last name for a bit. And then he gets a middle name.

Symphony: Yes.

Hal: There is something interesting to this that this is the first time he really gets an identity for the listener in terms of a first name, but the thing that struck me about that it even though there are a lot of things that happen is that it’s just his existential struggle. Like that’s the thing, that was my biggest takeaway from it and the thing that struck me is how well constructed that was, and then it didn’t need to, I mean it has a place in the larger continuum, but it also can exist on its own, just that particular plot line of him struggling like, am I the only one here, for all I know nobody’s listening or. I just, that was something that I was really drawn to and and, just very well written and well executed.

Symphony: Yeah I loved that idea of him possibly being alone in this universe, to something that’s not even connected to anything or anyone else. I mean, haven’t we all felt like that at one moment or another?

Meg: Yes.

Hal: Oh sure.

Meg: (God).

Symphony: [chuckles] Just…

Meg: So yeah, that’s the plot point that launched a thousand theories, conspiracy theories about this show.

Symphony: Yes. [laughter]

Meg: Cecil is alone. There’s been heat death of the world and Cecil is all that is left, alone in his empty universe.

Symphony: Yeah or it’s just, even that he’s like in this all by himself or it’s in his head kind of thing, I’ve seen a lot of those theories on Tumblr and whatnot over the years, so that’s always been really fun.

Meg: I thought this was one of the funnier episodes, I think this is they’re really starting to find their rhythm with their writing structure, their joke structure for how this show works, and this episode is very funny. There’s lots of really interesting things that are done with writing, like when they talk about the tarantula problem. Which is, [chuckling] there’s just so many different things that happen in that paragraph…

Symphony: Teen pregnancy.

Meg: ..teach a spider to read, teen pregnancy teach a spider to read, stop the madness.

Symphony: [chuckles] Yeah.

Meg: It’s just like it just keeps, things just keep happening in that paragraph that keep turning it on its head.

Symphony: Yeah and I love that they are, yes they do find their humor in this, and Cecil starts becoming more of a fleshed out character, you can hear in Cecil’s voice acting even. Like, he starts getting a little bit more into his higher ranges, which is always very fun for me to hear, ‘cause it just is more light-hearted than just like..

Hal: Yeah.

Symphony: ..the announcer, I mean Cecil has a gorgeous timbre to his voice already. But when, you know you’re adding these other levels to this person, you are really fleshing out a character.

Meg: Absolutely, we are starting to kind of land in Cecil now that are, this is yeah we’re at this point we’re five episodes in, and so we’ve learned a lot about the world of Night Vale, we’re learning a little bit about the character of Cecil, and then just the continual world building that we’re getting. Michael Sandero gets his second head.

Symphony: That’s more attractive.

Meg: Yeah.

Hal: Yeah.

Meg: That his mother prefers, so.

Hal: And puts, I love that she has a list out on, a public list, ranking of her children that goes out in front of her house for everybody to see.

Symphony: In the front yard! [laughs] If only, I mean Hal, you’re an only child, right?

Hal: True.

Symphony: So you’ve never really had to deal with this, but Meg you have a sister as I have a brother. And there is always that sneaking suspicion of who’s like, the more beloved. [laughs]

Hal: Do you think it’s you?

Symphony: No, I think my brother is the more beloved, in a different way.

Meg: Yeah. I think my sister and I kind of trade that position, like over the years in our life we’ve kind of traded that role several times back and forth about who’s the favorite. So we’re just hoping for many more years of trading off who’s the good one, so… [laughs]

Symphony: Can you imagine tho if your parents put that in the front yard for everybody to see it’s like, this is my favorite kid and this is my least favorite kid?

Meg: At least you’d know where you stand, you know.

Symphony: I guess so. It’s all (that truthfulness).

Meg: Which is kind of interesting, ‘cause in my family you know where you stand. There’s like…

Symphony: [laughs]

Meg: We’re not really a passive aggressive bunch, we're pretty much an aggressive aggressive bunch [laughter]. So you know when you’re on top and you know when you’re not.

Symphony: [laughs] Oh. Well, what if you grew another head and it was more attractive or people liked that head better, how would you feel about that? It’s not even just like your sibling, it’s like on your own body, like that’s adding insult to injury, now?

Meg: Do you have to do its makeup or does it do it on its own?

Symphony: Well I guess if you share a body, the body has to do all the work. Like the, right? Like maybe you only get one arm like, the left head gets the left arm and the right head, that would be really tough for your eyeliner, I can’t wing with the same hand.

Meg: Yeah. I do most of the stuff with my right hand. The thing that would probably bother me the most is that I would have to share the, the real estate of my body with someone else, like I feel like I’m barely getting by being a clumsy person with the stuff that I’m working with and to have to share that with another entity that would just be, I’d fall down every flight of stairs, I would not be able to chop an onion. [laughter] Symphony: Well and this gets into the territory of Siamese twins, guys.

Meg: Here we are. Episode 5, we finally got there.

Hal: Finally. I can’t wait, this is welcome to the finale of Good Morning, we got there in five episodes, we did it, that’s the record for getting to Siamese twins. I feel like I’m so insecure, the idea of a better looking smarter head on my body is like…

Symphony: Right.

Hal: That is my worst nightmare that I didn’t know I had until you asked that question like two minutes ago.

Symphony: Also is it now incorrect to say Siamese twins? [laughs]

Meg: I think we say “conjoined twins” now.

Hal: We say “conjoined twins”.

Symphony: We say “conjoined twins”. (Grant, cut it!) [laughs] OK. So “conjoined twins”. Yeah after I heard it I was like, that probably sounds a liiittle racist, (--).

Hal: I know that people can’t see what we’re doing right now, but Symphony has a clipboard in her left hand, and when you ask questions like that, you look like a camp counselor who’s going through the sensitivity training like, [laughter] can we say “Siamese twins”? Is that OK, let me mark it down ‘cause I had a note about that, I have finally the answer. Free swim at 9 AM, that’s gonna be fun.

Symphony: And crafts are in the barn.

Hal: Even for you “conjoined twins”, see I do learn. [laughter]

Symphony: After last summer’s debacle, (I mean it is)…

Hal: Surprised you came back, but I’m glad you’re here. [laughter]

Symphony: It’s how we learn, it’s how we learn.

Meg: Right, we just gotta keep the conversation, keep the conversation (going).

Symphony: We’re gonna move forward.

Meg: Yeah.

Hal: Yeah.

Symphony: So OK, I feel like this is the first time that the people huddle outside the back of the Ralphs. I’ve always loved that imagery, like in the hole of the parking lot.

Hal: Yes.

Symphony: It’s like, what are these people just like hanging out in a hole? Ralphs is a grocery store.

Meg: Yeah, Ralphs is a grocery chain.

Hal: Yes.

Symphony: Right. It’s like real tho?

Meg: Yeah.

Hal: Yes.

Symphony: Right, I’m like I feel like I’ve heard of the Ralphs before.

Meg: They’re just in California and maybe there’s one in Arizona.

Symphony: OK, well…

Hal: You know them as Kroger, same company.

Symphony: Ah, I do know a Kroger, seen a Kroger before. But I always think, I saw that recently about like chain grocery stores, and that’s always interesting to me ‘cause what you grow up with you’re like, oh all grocery stores aren’t a Jewel?

Meg: Or a Shoprite?

Symphony: But when people are just hanging out in a huddled mass outside of the Ralph, and they put out an ad for it.

Meg: Yeah, that Cecil delivers earnestly.

Symphony: Like come hang out with us.

Hal: Yeah.

Meg: Just an earnest ad for a hole in the parking lot.

Symphony: For you to huddle with other people in.

Meg: Pretty good. So we add to our intern count, intern Leland.

Symphony: Leland.

Meg: RIP.

Symphony: But you know, doesn’t there seem like there’s more pomp and circumstance with this one like…

Hal: Yeah!

Symphony: He dies but they talk about having a funeral and how they bury them in the break room, which…

Hal: [laughs]

Symphony: ..was never discussed before, but I like it.

Hal: Yeah.

Symphony: It seems a propos.

Meg: It’s important to have ceremony surrounding grief, you know.

Hal: Oh absolutely. [chuckles] It just feels, I like, I love watching the little detail like coloring the corners, getting the little nooks and crannies in this world building, and that’s what this feels like ‘cause it’s not, yes a series of, at this point you probably would figure out that most of the interns are going to die. But those little like, you get filled out what actually happens when somebody dies outside of, Cecil makes an announcement that there is a full sort of funeral held in their break room, which is just really for all intents and purposes, a graveyard where they eat sometimes.

Symphony: [laughs] I don’t think they allow that in actual cemeteries, so they get mad if you go in there and try and picnic.

Hal: Have you tried?

Meg: You can. Yeah.

Symphony: Can you?

Meg: Yeah I have a friend growing up whose Mom would take her to the cemetery to eat on her grandparents’ grave, they would like go do that. They would take a hot lunch.

Symphony: But if you didn’t know anybody, you’d just like sit that’s what I’m saying…

Meg: Yeah, then it’s…

Symphony: Not like it’s some of your family.

Meg: Yeah it’s like have some respect, you’re just sitting there like eating a six-inch Subway meatball sandwich just like, I was hungry! [laughter]

Symphony: It’s like, oh I just stopped at the Kroger or whatever like I just needed a place to sit down, and this is closer than the park.

Meg: Quieter, it’s cleaner.

Symphony: Totally, and it’s nice, there’s flowers, trees and stuff.

Meg: Yeah.

Symphony: Some cemeteries are very nice.

Meg: They are.

Symphony: Although I think a waste of land.

Meg I- I have to agree that they’re a waste of land, although some of the existing ones are pretty special, like-like the famous existing ones they’re special. There’s a bunch of ones that are just like, you know, miles and miles of dead people, where it’s like they probably could have figured out something better to do here with this, but you know.

Symphony: I like the fancy ones in LA.

Meg: Oh.

Symphony: I’ve been to a couple of those.

Meg: Yeah.

Hal: Hollywood Forever, where…

Symphony: With like celebrities.

Hal: Yeah, they show movies at Hollywood Forever…

Symphony: Yeah yeah yeah!

Hal: ..you can go see, when Jennifer and I were first dating, we went with Annie Savage who was appeared on the show, and her future husband at the time Fred and Ben Acker, we all went and watched, I think “Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure”. Like they just project it onto a mausoleum and a bunch of people show up, and and it’s acceptable.

Symphony: Wow.

Hal: That’s what happens in a Hollywood cemetery. It’s all glamour out here, folks.

Meg: Anything goes in Hollywood. Anything goes.

Hal: All the rumors are true.

Symphony: But I guess that’s what you sign up for when you’re like, oh I wanna be buried in this Hollywood cemetery and then you’re gonna get a movie shown on your grave, you know?

Hal: Yeah. I wanna, if I do that I want it written into my will which movies I will allow.

Meg: What would you pick if you had to like have a list of a few that you would find acceptable to project onto your grave?

Hal: Only “Xanadu”. That’s all I want shown all the time.

Symphony: Yes! [sings] Xanaduu…

Hal: And only the big number at the end where they combine all of their ideas into one horrific – dance number?

Symphony: [laughs]

Meg: I’d have to go with “Grease 2”, if it was me.

Hal: [laughs] Bowling alley sequence only?

Symphony: That’s the one with Michelle Pfeiffer?

Meg: Yeah. Yes.

Symphony: OK so, ‘cause I was about to say, I was like wow are we going to let Olivia Newton-John here? And then no it’s ‘cause it’s “Grease 2”. I think on my – “Labyrinth”.

Meg: Oo!

Hal: Nice. Nice.

Symphony: I like that movie a lot.

Meg: That sounds cozy and you know a bunch of college kids would roll up a joint and rock up to your grave and..

Symphony: Right!

Meg: ..(-) [silly voice] “Are we watching ‘The Labyrinth’ at Symphony Sanders’ grave tonight?” And it would be a good time.

Symphony: Yeah, and then my ghost would come out.

Meg: Yeah, and your ghost would love it!

Symphony: [laughs]

Meg: Your ghost is like, I’m trying to imagine what your ghost is wearing, it’s a one piece.

Symphony: Yes.

Meg: It’s like a spooky little one-piece jumpsuit. [laughter]

Symphony: You know me and my one-piece living, or dying.

Meg: Your one-piece dying! [laughter]

Symphony: Boo, Sanders! So speaking of celebrities and dead celebrities, Rita Hayworth apparently. But I mean you guys, first of all it’s hearsay of hearsay. This is like the most like not, probably it’s not true at all.

Hal: It did come from an angel, they’re very trusted sources of, they’re known celebrity spotters.

Symphony: They said to Old Woman Josie, who told Cecil, right?

Hal: Yes.

Symphony: The angel didn’t tell Cecil, Old Woman Josie did. She could be a liar.

Hal: Are you saying…

Meg: Wow, accusation.

Hal: ..there are unreliable voices in Night Vale?

Symphony: [laughs] Noo… Yes. No. Maybe. Uuuh, well, do you even know what Rita Hayworth looks like?

Hal: Yes!

Meg: I don’t.

Hal: Have you not seen “The Shawshank Redemption”? She’s the one who whips her hair back when they watch the movie and goes “Who me, boys?” She’s the first poster that he puts on his cell wall.

Symphony: No I was just asking like for posterity, do you know what [chuckling] Rita Hayworth looks like?

Hal: I do.

Symphony: So the answer is yes.

Hal: Yes. She’s shorter and more Hispanic than I remember but…

Symphony: [laughter] (-) that was fun.

Hal: Yeah.

Symphony: Well, maybe that woman’s name was Rita Hayworth, it just wasn’t the Rita Hayworth that we’re thinking of.

Hal: That’s true, that’s on us.

Symphony: Right? Her name could be Margarita Hayworth. She just goes by Rita. Actually that’s my, a girl I went to high school with. Her name was Margarita so it’s not like…

Meg: No, when I was taking Spanish class in fifth grade, my Spanish name was Margarita, so…

Symphony: Did you know what a Margarita was, the drink?

Meg: Yes.

Symphony: OK.

Meg: I wasn’t drinking them at the time, but I had been to a Chili’s before, so I… [laughter]

Hal: You do a lot of growing up the first time you go to a Chili’s, don’t you?

Meg: Sure, that’s for sure.

Hal: Mm hm.

Symphony: God I love Chili’s. I also have digestive distress, but it’s so good.

Meg: I feel like we have already done this on this show, we have ranked the Applebee’s and the Chili’s and [laughter] and the uh, TGI Fridays, I feel like we’ve already been down this road.

Symphony: Well Applebee’s is on the lowest, it’s on the lowest.

Meg: We all agree that Applebee’s is the worst, it’s Scrabblebee’s.

Hal: Applebee’s is terrible, but I got food poisoning at a Fridays, so that will always be the bottom for me.

Symphony: Well that’s full of people that definitely don’t wash their hands.  

Hal: That’s true. They dump their wings in the toilet before they bring them out.

Symphony: [laughs]

Hal: And they told me, it’s really on me. I rank myself below Fridays for that reason. (--) OK, you know what, I’ll roll the dice, I’m a gambler. [laughter]

Meg: I also really love the satire that we have of auditions, and (--) as a whole we get for the “Once on this Island” auditions announcement. [laughs]

Symphony: Yes. I love how they do this throughout the series, throughout the show in general, but they’ll do lists of things and it’ll start out normal or it’ll be like a couple normal things, and then it’ll totally go off the rails. Which I love, and I think you know, when you’re an actor, you just gotta have all those skills, you know what I mean?

Hal: Yes.

Meg: Yes.

Symphony: Sniper skills, all sorts of things. What is a dirigible?

Hal: It’s a, it’s a blimp.

Symphony: You’re, [laughing] you’re a blimp?

Hal: (--) I’m a blimp? ‘cause I answered, how rude!

Meg: That’s rude.

Hal: That was just Applebee’s style behavior right there.

Meg: When you’re here, your family. [laughter]

Hal: What is the biggest lie you ever put on your resumé, or like the dumbest skill that you have on your acting resumé?

Symphony: My own? I dunno.

Hal: Did you write stuff on other people’s resumés? When you’re on auditions you wrote like, “doesn’t work well with people”.

Symphony: Well I just remember I was, I was looking at someone’s once, and I just thought it was funny that they put like “burp on command”, they could burp on command.

Hal: [laughs]

Symphony: And I’m like, do people like test you on that, or what?

Hal: They might.

Symphony: I mean I’ve always wondered if people get called out, you know.

Meg: If someone were to actually call me out on the horseback riding skills that I list, it probably would be dangerous, I probably would get hurt. Like so you can actually really ride a horse, right? Yeah sure, totally. And like, I would get trampled. It’d be like here, gallop down this beach, and I’d be like oh no, we’re all gonna die.

Hal: [laughs]

Meg: I always wonder why they have the, like where we have to put our that we have a driver’s license and that it’s valid. [laughs]

Symphony: Yeah.

Hal: Yeah!

Meg: Valid driver’s license.

Hal: Like they’re gonna go, oh driver’s license huh? I’ve got a truck downstairs in the garage and they just throw you the keys. Go round the block and don’t hit any stuff!

Meg: Yeah. I’ve never had to act in a car. It’s never been a place for like…

Symphony: Me either, never been in that commercial. That’s usually like commercials, right? Like…

Meg: Yeah.

Hal: Yeah.

Symphony: You’ll have to be, but do they even like, make you drive in the actual car, or is it like you’re in one of those fake cars on a like green screen?

Hal: It depends. Sometimes you probably have to drive it. But even then if you haven’t ever driven before, and they put you in the car and you do that thing that kids do where you’re like just, you’re constantly moving the wheel..

Symphony: Yeah.

Hal: ..because you know that there’s a steering wheel in a car, that’s how they know this person probably doesn’t have a valid, this person can’t act like they’re driving, they seem really bad at it.

Meg: We would all get not cast in “Once on This Island”. Which is an interesting choice.

Symphony: Well maybe I could because I’m a person of color…

Meg: Yeah.

Symphony: So I was encouraged, that’s good.

Meg: That show really should be people of color..

Hal: Yeah.

Meg: ..only. [laughs]

Symphony: Pretty much, well except for, there’s like four white people in the show.

Meg: Yes.

Symphony: They’re like staying at the hotel or wherever.

Meg: Actually I saw Welcome to Night Vale actor Kevin R. Free in a wonderful production of “Once on This Island” at the Papermill Playhouse, and he did a fantastic job. Fun fact about Kevin R. Free is that he has a beautiful singing voice.

Symphony: He’s a good actor.

Meg: He’s a good actor, beautiful singing voice.

Hal: Not a surprise.

Symphony: All around good guy, yeah. Just sending Kevin R. Free some love, that’s all.

Hal: Yeah. I do like the idea of auditions ‘cause that in the later, in the touring show that just concluded, there was another bit about auditions as well, like it’s just a fun thing to come back to, that something’s always being cast and it’s very dangerous. Like the requirements are different every time, but also you know we were talking about the lists earlier, so people who are a fan of comedy and breaking down comedy, listening to and sort of studying how these lists are put together by Jeffrey and Joseph, it’s a little good way to understand heightening and misdirection, and the way they build their laughs out of surprises and then, they build on the surprise, it’s like constant hard turns, and then build build build hard turn that gives them like a reset to build off of, which is really really smart and fun as an audience member to experience, and really fun as an actor to perform.

Meg: Yeah, absolutely like especially in this episode with the list where they talk about the curriculum. “Finally, in addition to the current foreign language offerings of Spanish, French, and modified Sumerian, schools will now be offering double Spanish, weird Spanish, Coptic Spanish, Russian, and unmodified Sumerian.” So yeah, construction of these lists that do, they just take us on a journey, a journey of humor.

Symphony: I love the text books, that was always, that was really funny for me. I just like when they turn the things that would normally happen in everyday life right on its ear, you know like the math and English, those two just switching names but they still are the same like principles right? I just find that really funny and imaginative. And that teachers are astral projecting.

Meg: Yeah. And we get our, I think it’s our first Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner.

Symphony: Yeah, about the moon.

Meg: Where Cecil’s talking about the moon, yeah. [laughter] And Telly the Barber and Carlos, so I think it’s our first Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner, which is a fun segment on this show. So speaking of segments on this show, we have some fan theories and fan questions that we got from our voicemail and from our email, and we’re going to talk about those.

But first, let’s talk about the weather.

[ad break]

Meg: So this episode’s weather was “Jerusalem” by Dan Bern.

Hal: I love Dan Bern.

Symphony: I thought that song was so funny. It had, the tune itself made me think of almost like a 60’s revolutionary folk rock song, but what he’s talking about, the whole thing about the olives was killing me, I was like yes.

Meg: [sings] Olives!

Symphony: I wrote “loves olives”. [laughs]

Hal: Yeah, Dan is super smart and super funny and he sounds, he’s not a Bob Dylan soundalike but he’s super evocative. He’s got a similar vocal style, the way he plays the guitar has that folk rock feeling to it. That is like, he’s the kind of musician where you want to listen to, the lyrics are super important and sometimes just the way the music is built is the most important thing. But with him, you wanna catch all the details of what he’s saying as he sings, ‘cause it’s always super smart and really funny satire.

Meg: Yeah, agree on all of those things, I think it’s a really nice addition to this episode. It feels like it almost matches the rhythm of this episode, where it is one that does kind of, has a more humorous tone to it, has a “hey pay attention to the words” kind of tone to it, observational humor tone to it, it does feel like it is a nice match with that, whether that’s intentional or not, it feels like at home in this episode.

Hal: Yeah, 100 per cent. Probably the most, the best fit in terms of matching what’s going on. It doesn’t feel like it’s hard to turn away from where we’ve been. It feels kind of, it’s logical in a way that…

Symphony: Right.

Hal: The weather doesn’t really have to be, but when it is it’s nice, it’s a nice little sort of surprise.

Meg: Let’s go into the FanZone where we hear from some of our fans who have written into the email address and have dialed into our weird voicemail. So I (-) through the email account today and found some things. We asked, just for these first couple of episodes, we asked fans to react to the first ten episodes of Night Vale and what they had in terms of theories and questions. And Erin B. writes to us and says: “Theories. Carlos was sent to Night Vale by the place he works for, and as soon as time distorted, he wasn’t able to ever send any research back. Theory 2: Cecil was extremely lonely prior to Carlos arriving and pushed people away. Theory 3: The Voice of Night Vale infects Cecil and he doesn’t even really need a radio station to podcast. And theory 4: the secret government agency sent Carlos to Night Vale.” So we’ve got some theories here. I think are interesting when we are listening to it and hear the kind of new things about how Cecil wonders if his microphone is even attached, and if he is all alone. So it’s kind of the first episode that starts to pull back the, the (lens) of possibility and so, hearing from Erin on their theories about what’s going on here. We can’t of course confirm or deny any of these theories. I think that Cecil probably was extremely lonely prior to Carlos arriving. I dunno if he pushed people away, maybe he pushed people away, it’s possible.

Symphony: I think it is interesting that um, just like with a lot of theatre itself like, why is it important now, why are you talking about this thing now? So obviously Carlos coming into his life has been a catalyst for something or it’s been a big deal, because he wasn’t really, like we didn’t hear about Cecil before all that stuff, and now since Carlos has come into his life, things have changed. I dunno if he pushed people away, but now things in his life are changing, and Night Vale especially.

Meg: Yeah.

Hal: Yeah. I think they’re good theories.  I like the, I like back filling sort of character. You sorta can find the notes that you need to back fill where a character might have been when they arrive through listening and just sort of what the current relationship is and how important it is to the people, so I’m all for stuff like that. And then it’s fun when the writing either confirms or denies that, and if it doesn’t, then that’s something you can hold on to, and you’re always right.

Meg: Yeah and on that, the similar topic there, (Julianne) writes to us and says, “In episode 5, Cecil explicitly addresses this idea, questioning whether his mike is even plugged in and if the world is held aloft merely by my – his delusions and by his smooth, sonorous voice. But it leaves, it has a hypothetical scenario by not pursuing it past his musing. But his mind being stuck in limbo makes sense, Cecil and the city having (-) sense of time is the biggest clue, followed by a general lack of knowledge about how things – science, correct building materials for drawbridges and - heck, just how weird everything in Night Vale is”, so that’s (Julianne) saying that it makes sense that this might be a real thing that Cecil’s not actually there, that because it might prove that Cecil is stuck in limbo and that creates a weird sense of time, which makes sense why everything is weird in Night Vale.

Hal: I would ask, and (Julianne) you can’t respond. You can do it on social media I guess but right now, [chuckles] right now we can’t have a conversation about it, but I always wonder in those cases, is it more interesting for it to actually exist and be real, or is it more interesting if none of it is real and he is delusional, or has created a reality around him, in which case where is he and what is the real world around him? And I don’t think I, I don’t have an answer one way or the other, but I think that’s sort of the interesting question and conversation that you can jump off, either thinking about it by yourself or discussing with other friends/fans.

Meg: Nice. And Nina asks us, trying to put this the right way, Nina says: “Did I hear that a typo in an early episode resulted in a somewhat prominent change in plot? Can you tell us what that was all about?” So it’s not so, getting the story from Jeffrey, we talked to Jeffrey about this. Not so much that a typo resulted in a prominent change in the plot, it was that a typo resulted in a prominent change in the plot so we had to have Cecil re-record. So the way that the episodes are recorded is Joseph and Jeffrey work on a script, that script goes to Cecil, Cecil sits down, reads the script and kinda figures out his emotional beats, and then he performs it into a microphone and then he sends that recording off to Joseph, who cuts it into an episode. So there’s not a director in the room that is gonna go through word for word and make sure that the writers’ intents come through, so in this situation there was a typo that twisted the meaning, or a word got dropped and that changed the whole meaning of an episode, so he had to go back and have Cecil re-record and get that word in there, and have the episode have the meaning that Joseph and Jeffrey intended.

Symphony: But otherwise, all is well.

Meg: All is well. Sarah writes (-) us about Michael Sandero and Michael Sandero’s mother. So Sarah says: “Michael Sandero’s mother kept a ‘which of my children I like best’ ranking outside her house, which means Michael presumably had at least one other sibling. Why have we never heard about them? Will we ever hear about them? Are they simply so utterly normal compared to Michael and his recordbreakingly awful luck that they don’t stick out at all? Do these siblings actually ask?” And then this is in parenthesis: “Regardless of siblings or lack thereof, Flora is not a good mother, at least to Michael. So if the siblings are real, it would be nice if they showed him the support she does not.” Sarah also says [chuckles]: “How are the troubled tarantulas doing? I hope they’ve managed to turn their dire situation around and get on their many very hairy feet by now.”

Symphony: I don’t know that, like any theory, we can only make assumptions on the information that we have. And knowing how Night Vale is, I mean maybe he does have other siblings, but they don’t get any sort of (interest or play), right? They can’t possibly, ‘cause he’s a big football star. When you got a big football star, if you don’t live up to that, you know? It’s like “Friday Night Lights”.

Hal: He was already at top of the list and then the head beat him out. So he can’t, even when you’re at the top of the list, you’re not at the top of the list. Sorry, Michael.

Symphony: Yeah. You’re never safe.

Hal: Never.

Symphony: Oh and the tarantulas, do we wanna answer that? Is that a question?

Meg: How are they? I hope they’re doing OK. I mean, it seemed like there was a good program in place for them.

Symphony: Yeah, I mean they’re trying to get them to read, which is the first step I think in any sort of, uh, programming.

Meg: Yeah. And I think there’s passionate people involved in trying to rehabilitate and provide opportunities for these tarantulas, just all we can only ever hope for is that people are, there’s good people trying to do their best for them.

Hal: I’m deathly frightened of tarantulas, so they could all walk into a fire as far as [chuckling] I’m concerned!

Symphony: [chuckles]

Meg: That’s so cold, Hal. So cold.

Hal: Yeah. Not the fire, the fire’s plenty warm, if you’re cold get in that fire.

Meg: [laughs]

Hal: It’ll warm you up.

Meg: So let’s burn the tarantulas or not. And thus we end the FanZone. [laughter] Alright, we got through our episode. Thanks so much for discussing “The Shape in Grove Park”, all ‘yall! Next week, we are going to be speaking with Jon Bernstein, you may know him as Disparition. He is the creator of the music for Welcome to Night Vale and Alice Isn’t Dead, and he is an all around rad dude. We will be discussing episode 6, “The Drawbridge”, so we have that to look forward to, which is exciting. I’m very excited.

Hal: Me too!

Meg: Symphony?

Symphony: I’m not that excited.

Hal: Wow, hateful. The shade!

Symphony: Just kidding!

Hal: [whew].

Symphony: It’s because I’m afraid of bridges.

Hal: [laughs]

Meg: Awww. Well we’ll unpack that and all of our fears in next week’s episode, where we unpack our fears and talk it over with musician Jon Bernstein. You know him as Disparition, I refer to him as Yon. Symphony, do you have any other nicknames for Jon?

Symphony: Berenstain. I call him like Berenstain Bears, he doesn’t like that.

Meg: No. Alright great, (-) one in the (-), thank you all so very much for listening, and we will check in with you next week. And until then, good morning Night Vale, good morning.

Meg: Good Morning is a Night Vale Presents production. It is hosted by Symphony Sanders, Hal Lublin and Meg Bashwiner. It is edited by Grant Stewart. It is mixed by Vincent Cacchione, it is produced by Meg Bashwiner. Theme music by Disparition. Special thanks to our fans who submitted their thoughts. Leave us a voicemail at 929-277-2050, or email us at [email protected], to share your theories and ask questions, or to tell us which host would lie in court for you.

For more information on this show, go to goodmorningnightvale.com and follow us on Facebook and Twitter @NightValeChat. Special thanks to (Christy Gressman), Jeffrey Cranor, Joseph Fink, and Adam Cecil.

Today’s adverb is “savagely”. The lion savagely attacked his tempe and quinoa salad, because he was a hungry wild beast, but also had just started doing meatless Mondays, because sustainability matters and we are all on this planet together.

#night vale presents #good morning night vale #meg bashwiner #hal lublin #symphony sanders #episode 5 #the shape in grove park

[ri-writing]

Too Shy To Say It

Title: Too Shy To Say It Pairings: Jyn/Cassian Summary: Jyn doesn't understand Internet pranks. Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Star Wars This is what happens when Coryphefish pitches ideas at me.  I take them and write fic. No one typically sent messages to Jyn Erso – at least not personal ones.  Her morning message box always held the same three messages: (1) a message containing the schedule of classes she would be teaching that day, as generated by the base's computer system; (2) a general information bulletin everyone received; and (3) a message about the weather she signed up to receive after feeling particularly lonely because she had only been receiving two messages.  Messages from friends were basically non-existent.  Occasionally, there would be a message from Chirrut and Baze, talking about the monastery they were working with, but those were few and far between.  Jyn could count her remaining friends on one hand, and neither of them felt the need to send her messages.

It was a surprise, then, when there was a fourth message sitting on her datapad that morning.  Jyn didn't recognize the sender's address – a string of what appeared to be random numbers and letters – but the subject line caught her attention.

Cassian said I had to send this to you. Cassian never sent her anything.  He wasn't even on base at the moment; he'd left last night.  For a moment, Jyn wondered if he'd learned of something at the last minute and asked K-2SO to warn her that she was about to get in some sort of trouble.  While Jyn couldn't think of anything in particular that she could have done to upset the brass, that didn't mean much.  The Alliance had a complicated system of what was Okay To Do and what was Absolutely Unforgivable that didn't make much sense to her.  Jyn knew she could have accidentally stumbled into something she shouldn't have.  Warily, she opened the message. Cassian wanted you to have this, K-2SO had written.  Underneath it was an external link.  Frowning, she ran her finger across the datapad, then activated the link.

~*~

“You've been quiet,” Bodhi noted as he climbed out from underneath the shuttle control panel.  Jyn hadn't moved from where he'd left her sitting against the co-pilot's panel.  It wasn't that Jyn being quiet in itself was necessarily concerning.  Jyn was generally a quiet person.   It was more that Jyn was being weirdly quiet.  Every time he'd seen her over the last two days, she'd been sitting alone with headphones over her ears, wearing an expression that cycled between concern, confusion, and a pure, unadulterated joy he'd rarely seen from her.  She'd spent the last thirty minutes sitting silently in the shuttle as he worked, and Bodhi was getting the distinct impression she wanted to talk but wasn't sure how Talking To Friends worked.   “Everything okay?” “Thinking.”  Jyn replied.  Bodhi waited as she went through some sort of internal deliberation on how much of her thinking it was safe to share with other people.  She looked remarkably the way Galen had when he was working through a problem.  Finally, Jyn confessed, “I'm not very good with people.” That, Bodhi thought, was an understatement.  He knew better than to ask any of the natural follow-up questions, so he turned his attention to ripping out the wires he'd freed from underneath the nav computer. “How many relationships have you had?”  Jyn asked. He hit his head on the bottom of the control panel.  “Romantic relationships?”  He had not expected this topic of conversation, nor was it one he particularly wanted to have.  Unfortunately, now that he was stuck in the middle of it, he had no way to extract himself from it.  He found himself answering the question.  “Um, two?  Maybe?” “Maybe?”  Jyn frowned. “I was twenty and it was complicated.”  Bodhi said quickly.  “Can we, er, not talk about my failed relationship history?” Jyn nodded.  She played with the headphones in her lap for several moments before admitting, “Cassian sent me a song.” “O-kay?”  He wasn't sure what that had to do with anything.  Sure, Cassian didn't seem like the sort to send people songs, but truth be told, Cassian wasn't the sort of person who made an effort to let other people get to know him.  For all Bodhi knew, Cassian could have an extensive collection of music and thought music sharing was the key to long lasting friendships.  Bodhi had met all types.  He tried not to judge.  “I mean, friends do that, Jyn.  You see something you think someone you know would like, and you let them know about it.” “It's, um,” Jyn looked awkward.  “It's really romantic.”  She leaned her head back against the station behind her with a clunk. Okay, that might be odd – not the part about Cassian fancying Jyn.   That part was ridiculously obvious to everyone – or at least everyone other than Jyn.  The part where he sent her a song to let her know, however, was weird.  Although, Bodhi considered for a moment, Cassian seemed to have as many barriers and issues in being open about things as Jyn.  Maybe this was the only way he could think to communicate genuine emotions? “Am I reading too much into this?”  Jyn asked.  “Maybe he really just likes the tune?” “Jyn,” Bodhi tried to keep from sounding as uncomfortable as he felt, “You remember the part about only maybe two relationships, right?” She turned her head to look at him.  “What do I say when he asks if I liked it?” “Well, do you?”  He asked.  “Like it, I mean?” “It is the best song I have ever heard in my life,” Jyn said with conviction. Bodhi tried to translate that.  “Because Cassian sent it?” He was rewarded with Jyn cycling through at least ten entries in her scowl collection.  “No,” she finally said, “Because it's about always being there for someone.  And it has a good tune.” Bodhi nodded and pretended to be engrossed in his work.  “Well,” he offered, “If Cassian asks, you could always say that you liked it.” “Do I want him to feel this way about me?”  Jyn asked quickly. Bodhi had to check if she was serious.  Unfortunately, she was.  He wasn't sure why Jyn thought he would have an answer to that.  He also wasn't sure how he had found himself in the midst of a conversation with one of his only friends about whether another of his only friends was interested in a romantic relationship.  “I don't know, Jyn.  I'm, uh, not good at relationships?  Maybe, uh, maybe you could ask someone who gets all this stuff?  Write to Chirrut and Baze?” Jyn seemed assuaged at that idea.  She nodded to herself and slid her headphones back over her ears.  After several minutes of blissful quiet and no awkward questions, he felt a hand brush his sleeve.  “Thanks,” Jyn said softly. ~*~ “Make sure you check our messages,” Chirrut announced as they returned to their tiny room.  Baze resisted the urge to point out that no one ever messaged them.  Whenever anyone around here wanted to talk with either of them, they would do so in person.  The monastery was only so big.  He knew, however, that the moment he voiced any of that, they would actually get a message and Chirrut would wear that smug little smile for the rest of the day. So he checked. There was a message. Of course there was. “We have a message from Jyn,” Baze announced. Chirrut smiled.  It was smug.  Of course it was.  “What does Jyn say?” Baze skimmed the message, which was blessedly short.  When they received messages from Bodhi, they were long with paragraphs' worth of small talk before Bodhi revealed the reason he wrote.  Jyn's were always short and to the point.  “Captain Andor sent her a song.  She wants to know what to do about it.” “'What kind of song?”  Chirrut asked. Jyn, fortunately, had included a link.  Baze followed it. They listened. It was, Baze decided as he suffered through it, one of the worst songs he had ever heard.  His opinion of the captain decreased. Silence returned as the song ended.  Baze silently said a prayer of relief before wondering if Chirrut knew what he'd done. “I can understand why Jyn likes it,” Chirrut said at last. “I can't.”  Baze replied.  It was horrible.  Worse yet, it was now playing over and over in his head, despite the fact that the music had stopped. “The lyrics,” Chirrut amended.  "She likes the lyrics." “There are better ways to express those sentiments,” Baze pointed out. “Telling someone, for example.  Writing a letter.  Engaging in any act besides playing someone that song.” “Captain Andor does not enjoy acknowledging his feelings,” Chirrut noted somewhat diplomatically.  What Chirrut meant was Captain Andor does not acknowledge he has feelings. “You want me to tell Jyn that?”  Baze asked.  It would not go over well. “I doubt she would appreciate that sentiment.”  Chirrut remained diplomatic.  “What would you have done if I had sent you that song?” “Suffered through it,” Baze replied honestly. “Back at the beginning?”  Chirrut clarified. Found it adorable.  He was not sharing that.  “I would have been concerned about your taste in music.” “Ask Jyn how she feels about the captain sending her the song.”   Chirrut instructed.  Baze looked at him.  Even though he couldn't see Baze's expression, Chirrut somehow knew what it was anyway.  “I know.   But she has to figure that out herself.  Just ask her.” ~*~ Luke Skywalker made a point to try to be friendly to everyone.  Some people – like Wedge Antilles – were easy to be friendly with.  Other people – like Han on his bad days – were more difficult.  Nonetheless, Luke had found that everyone wanted friends, deep down, but some people weren't sure how to get them.  He tried to make it easy for those people, so when he saw Jyn Erso sitting alone (again) in the middle of the crowded mess, he set his tray down across from her.  He was rewarded with a confused look.  Luke smiled.  “Hi.” Jyn looked at him a long moment with the sort of expression he came to associate with an animal that wasn't sure if he was friendly or not.  After several heartbeats, she nodded and returned to staring at her tray and listening intently to something over the headphones attached to her datapad. Now that he'd made Jyn his project for this meal, Luke was determined to see it through.  He gave her another smile and asked loudly, “Good song?” Jyn hesitated, the wordlessly removed the headphones and passed them over.  Luke slid them on and resisted the urge to groan.   Not this again.  R2 had been sending it to him at least once a day.   Apparently, the droids thought it was funny to try to get each other to play the song.  Somehow, that had spilled over to the pilots.   Wes Janson had come up with several creative ways to trick other members of Red Squadron into listening to it.  Even Han had gotten in on the prank.  The princess had spent a good ten minutes screaming at him for sending her the song just this morning.  (Han, meanwhile, had seemed quite pleased with himself).  Luke quickly passed the headphones back. Jyn frowned.  “You don't like it?”  She seemed genuinely surprised.   Luke wondered if she was that good of an actor, or if she was being sincere.  While he wasn't one hundred percent accurate with his ability to use the Force to ferret out a lie, it felt like Jyn was being sincere. It struck him, suddenly, that Jyn didn't get the joke.  Someone had sent her the song, and she genuinely liked it.  He didn't want to dampen her mood – he had just gotten her to speak actual words – so he managed a tiny shrug.  “I've heard it before.  It's, uh, kind of popular right now.” “I can see why,” Jyn noted.  "It's really good."  Once again, the only thing the Force gave him was complete sincerity on her part.   “Yeah, it sticks in your head,” Luke agreed, trying to be nice.  “Did one of the droids send it to you?” “No.”  She replied.  “A friend thought I might like it.” “That was...nice of them.”  Luke quickly looked for a safe change of subject.  Anything would be better than a discussion about that song.   He didn't know much about Jyn Erso, and most of what he knew was the sort of thing that normal people did not bring up in conversation.  He quickly seized on the only topic he knew would be unoffensive.  “Hey, so, Wedge and I wanted to ask you about something you showed the recruits in hand to hand the other day....” ~*~ Cassian was not happy.  While there were many – many – times his human was not happy,  K-2SO recognized that this time was different.  For one, Cassian had gotten to do a recruiting mission (something K-2SO understood to be Cassian's favorite type of mission), and the mission was successful.  The general had not ordered Cassian to kill anyone (something K-2SO understood Cassian did not enjoy doing), nor did any situation arise where Cassian's hand was forced.   Cassian had even smiled as they returned to base. He stopped smiling after the first evening back.   K-2SO was not sure what happened, but there was a 98.5% chance that something had because humans did not typically go from happy to not happy without provocation.  As he followed Cassian to a meeting with some of the new recruits they'd brought back with them,  K-2SO quickly replayed the last twenty-four hours in his memory.  He could not identify anything that would typically upset his human.  Cassian had a meeting with General Draven, but it consisted of little more than reporting on the new recruits.  Cassian had forced him to go to dinner with Bodhi Rook, but while K-2SO found Cassian's friends trying at times, Bodhi was one of the better ones and Cassian liked spending time with Bodhi.   Breakfast was blissfully quiet and Cassian was able to get quite a lot of work done since Jyn Erso's attendance had been required elsewhere.  This, K-2SO knew, should make Cassian very happy, since Cassian loved getting work done for the Rebellion.  It seemed as if the Force was trying to ensure Cassian received all the things Cassian generally liked. But Cassian was not happy.   K-2SO could tell in the way his human held himself, and in how he responded when people talked to him.  Most humans,  K-2SO was sure, had no idea Cassian was not carrying on as usual, but humans were terrible at noticing important things about other humans.  This was why all humans should have at least one droid.  Droids understood humans in ways humans could not.   (Cassian, however, did not need more than one droid;  K-2SO was a spectacular droid.  But other humans were not as lucky and might not have as good a droid as  K-2SO.  They might require more). K-2SO waited until after dinner to see if Cassian's unfortunate mood would clear up on its own.  When it did not, he determined it was time to have a talk with his human.  Knowing these things had to be addressed delicately, K-2SO started with the obvious.  “You are not happy.” “I'm fine, Kay.”  Cassian did not look up from his datapad. “No,” K-2SO observed, “You are not.” “It's fine.”  Cassian repeated.  After a beat of silence, he added, “It's human stuff, Kay.” “I can listen to you talk about human things,” K-2SO offered, trying to be helpful. Cassian hesitated.  He did that a lot, K-2SO had noticed, when K-2SO tried to help him with human things.  It was almost as if Cassian questioned whether K-2SO was capable of helping with human things.   (This thought was ridiculous, as K-2SO was quite confident he could run processes to analyze any human problem humans might have, and provide probabilities for success for each potential solution).  Cassian apparently saw the sense in getting solutions and probabilities, because he decided to share about his current human problem.  “Jyn's avoiding me.” Oh.  Oh dear.  It was a feelings problem.  K-2SO hated those.  There were often irrational components to them.  Cassian had been having more of those sorts of problems as of late, which was slightly distressing. “She's upset with me,” Cassian continued, “But I don't know what I did.” “You did not do anything,” K-2SO tried to reassure his human.  He had seen other rebels do this when they were upset about human things.  “Jyn Erso is moody and unpredictable.  That is Jyn Erso's problem, not yours.”  K-2SO quietly congratulated himself for knowing the proper code humans used in these types of situations. Cassian, however, wasn't assuaged.  “I asked Bodhi about it.  He said he didn't want in the middle of it.  After we left, something happened, Kay.  Have you talked with Jyn since then?” Technically,K-2SO had not spoken with Jyn. K-2SO had, however, sent a communication to her.  It struck K-2SO that he might know what happened.  This was frustrating.  He had calculated that, by now, Jyn Erso was a friend.  Friends, K-2SO understood, shared jokes.   R2-D2 joked with K-2SO quite often (R2-D2 was one of the few droids who were K-2SO's intellectual equals).  When K-2SO shared this particular joke with R2-D2, R2-D2 had found the joke so hilarious, R2-D2 played it on his human.  He should have known that Jyn Erso did not have the intellectual capability to appreciate the joke the way R2-D2 had.  “I sent her a joke,” K-2SO reported.  “Perhaps she did not find it amusing.” Cassian became very still.  “What joke?” “I sent her an annoying song,” K-2SO explained.  When Cassian looked at him strangely, he elaborated, “The song is terrible, so it is amusing.”   Cassian continued to watch him with that odd look.  “Everyone else finds it amusing.”  K-2SO considered the truth of that statement before amending, “Except C-3PO.  But he is an inferior droid.  He cannot throw people across a room, either.” Cassian shook his head once, blinked, and then asked, “Am I involved in the joke?” “I told Jyn Erso that you wanted her to listen to it,” K-2SO explained.  “She might not have listened if it was from me.” Cassian rubbed his hands over his face.  “What song, Kay?” K-2SO searched his memory banks and selected the right file.  He picked up Cassian's datapad, transferred the file, and then keyed the machine to play.  The obnoxious music started a moment later and K-2SO was treated to the look of horror on his human's face as the singer crooned in the background: Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down... ~*~ Jyn, I'm sorry.  Kay tried to develop a sense of humor and it backfired.  No, that wouldn't work.  Kay sent that message.  I'll tell him not to message you again.  No...  It's supposed to be a joke.  Kay was trying to be your friend.  He didn't realize that song might have bad connotations for you.  He means well....  Cassian continued to discard potential apologies in his mind as he knocked on Jyn's door.  He unfortunately hadn't found a good one by the time the door slid open.  “Jyn.” She swallowed as color appeared in her cheeks.  “Cassian.” Neither of them said anything for several moments.  Each second clicking past felt like hours.  “Can we talk?” Jyn stepped aside and let him into her room.  As he glanced around, he realized he hadn't ever been inside her quarters – not since she moved to the instructor rooms in the training hall.  Despite the tiny room having a layout similar to his own, Jyn's seemed lived in.  There was a 2D image printed on flimsy of Jyn and Bodhi tucked along the corner of the small mirror over the chest of drawers.  He recognized the ugly green blanket on the foot of the bed as one Kay had draped over Jyn one night when they were outside and she wouldn't stop shivering (apparently Jyn had 'forgotten' to return it to the store rooms).  There was even a small basket with cleanly laundered clothes sitting on her desk chair. “I know why you're here,” Jyn said as the door slid shut behind them. Cassian returned his attention to her.  “Jyn, I-” “I've been avoiding you.”  A touch of nervousness crept into her voice.   He didn't know what to make of that.  “The song...” he started. “Can I talk first?”  She asked, interrupting him again.  “Please.  I'm awful at this and if I don't talk first, I won't say it.”  When he fell silent, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Jyn opened her mouth, somehow managed to turn redder, and then shut it again.  She hunched her shoulders, as if bracing herself for a hit.  “I feel the same way.” That made zero sense.  “The same way.” She nodded once.  “I...I'm not good with...” Jyn waved a hand in the air as if that made sense.  It didn't.  There were many words that could be placed at the end of that sentence.  “I never thought you....  And I didn't want to, to do anything to lose....” she waved a hand between them, looking slightly distressed.  “I...” It occurred to him, suddenly, that he'd gotten the situation very, very wrong.  Jyn did not realize that the message was a joke.  Jyn was not, in fact, angry that he (or, technically, Kay) was insensitive.  She thought he meant it – that he was using (quite terrible) song lyrics to confess feelings for her.  Romantic feelings. On his way to Jyn's quarters, Cassian had thought this could not possibly get more awkward. He had been wrong. Because, of course, Cassian felt that way about her.  He just hadn't planned on ever doing anything about it.  He had dozens of reasons for that decision – because Jyn could do better; because Jyn would never return those feelings; because it would make things awkward in their tiny group of friends; because... “Jyn, I didn't send you that song,” he forced the words past his teeth.  They hurt, but he had promised himself long ago that he would earn Jyn's trust.  That he would be worthy of Jyn's trust.  Lying to Jyn – again – would not promote trust.  “It's a joke on base to send it to your friends.  Kay thought...” Jyn's face was completely blank.  Stop talking, Andor.  You're making it worse.  Just stop talking.  “Kay thought you were friends.  He doesn't understand...human things.”  He saw her shoulders hunch up again.  In a moment, Cassian knew, her eyes would go feral, because Jyn thought he was rejecting her.  “But I do.”  He added quickly as he reached out to touch her arm.  He felt her flinch.  Cassian let his hand drop.  “Feel that way.  About you.” Neither of them spoke.   Cassian resisted the urge to study his boots.  He knew his face had to be redder than Jyn's by now.  He could feel the blood rushing to it.   When he couldn't take it any longer, he said, “Please say something.” "I don't understand."  Jyn said. "I didn't send the song," Cassian repeated.  "But I do feel that way." “Why didn't you ever...” Jyn moved to wave her hand again.  He caught it in his.  Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she finished the sentence.   “Say anything?” “Why didn't you?”  He asked. Jyn considered the tiles on the floor of her room.  “Because everyone always leaves.” “I'm not going to leave,” Cassian said.  He let his fingers lace through hers.  After a moment of silence, he answered her question.  “I didn't think you'd....”  When he trailed off, Jyn looked at their entwined hands, then back at him, daring him to finish the sentence.   “Want that,” he said.  “Want me.” Jyn contemplated that.  “Oh.”  She was silent for a moment before adding, "I do."  More silence.  Then, “Now what?” “I don't know.”  He answered honestly.  He didn't exactly do relationships - not real ones.  Somehow, the games he played as Willix or Sward or Aach didn't seem appropriate.  Not with Jyn.  He didn't want to try to trick Jyn. “Oh.”  Jyn said again.  She tilted her head to the side slightly and studied him.  Her gaze was intense; Cassian started to wonder what she was seeing.  He was distracted from the thought when he felt her free hand reach behind his head.  Her mouth brushed against his a moment later, almost feather light.  She moved away slightly and whispered, “Is this okay?” How was that even a question?  “Yes,” Cassian replied.  “This is good.” “Good,” Jyn said.  She kissed him again, properly this time. The last thought Cassian had was that, later, he would need to thank Kay for trying to be Jyn's friend. Notes: Forever and a day ago, the discussion was - Jyn gets Rick Rolled, but doesn't get the joke.  Instead, she really loves the song; she thinks it's wonderful. I don't know why or how everyone lived.  They just did.  

#RiFic #cassian andor #jyn erso #rebelcaptain #RiWritesBadFic #k2so #JynDoesntGetInternetPranks

[liinos]

If I go down later to eat and this man tries to talk to me again...

#leave me alone that is my time!!! stop being in the kitchen at 1am when im in the kitchen!! #god im already stressed about my br*ther coming down at those times i dont need the extra stress of the possibility of my dad trying to #fucking talk to me too i already kind of had it and i dont want more #headphones are IN music is ON i am not acknowledging anyones existence just stop being downstairs #my parents used to complain about how i was always in the room... yeah bc you all are always in the damn kitchen 😐 i like my privacy. my #alone time. my silence. i like being left tf alone! and people being downstairs until 2am is cramping my style severly

[mollyjoycupcake]

I’m kind of in the mood where I hate my life.

I’m not sure what exactly is getting to me. It is most likely a combination of things... but I would really like it to be just one thing so i could take care of it and go back to enjoying my own existence. 

I keep feeling like my life lies somewhere in the future. I have a hard time acknowledging that my life is happening now as well. I guess this is partially true; after all, this is my last semester with my CC, and I can either take a break or move on to university from there. So, in a sense, a new chapter in my life does start in the future. And right now is that awkward, anticipatory stage.

Lately I have felt very strongly that I don’t want to be an engineer anymore. At least, not in this forseeable state. I don’t think I am mentally healthy enough to handle the rigors of the coursework. Even thinking about calculus makes me anxious. I tried to cope with it the best I could, but to no avail. I have come to the conclusion that, at least for now, I shouldn’t be putting too much stress on myself.

The psychological torture of my past life still seems to be tagging along with me. It is impossible to block out unless I am staying busy. Sometimes it feels like it is lurking in the shadows, waiting to come out and consume my new identity completely. My sense of “self” feels very fragile and unsolidified. I feel flaky and unsure about pretty much everything in the planet. This is not a pleasant sensation. I think that this has been worsened by my death-grip on my goal of engineering. After all, I originally clung to this degree program to both spite my past and to assert an identity for myself. Although this seemed to carry me through the past three years (which were especially painful), it seems to no longer serve its purpose. Now it seems to provide a time capsule of my past pain and need for belonging. At minimum, I need a break from the discipline to continue growing. However, I feel in my gut that it’d be best to forgo it altogether and choose another life path for myself.

I have had nightmares every single night for about a month now. Literally. Every. Night. They usually have a common theme: lack of control. For example, one of my dreams (which is recurring) involves a natural disaster that I am trying to escape from. When I try to run to the shelter, I either cannot run fast enough to escape the threat, or the doors are shut by the time I get there. No matter what, I cannot seem to will myself to run faster. Another dream that I had last night involved a woman that resembled my mother. She broke my beloved headphones (which I use to essentially escape the world- one of my means of direct control) and refused to replace them. She backed up her refusal with bible verses and religious babble. Nobody in the room backed me up. I felt powerless. In another dream, which was particularly distressing, I was a small bird that had its wings violently ripped off by a larger, ugly bird of prey.

On top of all of this, I can’t help but wonder if I am lesbian. Sometimes I am so focused on women that I forget that men even are an option. When I am in the bar, I only check out women. The majority of men really just gross me out or make me feel resentful. It doesn’t help that I am at the wonderful age where I seem to get catcalled or leered at everywhere I go. This is definitely another situation that I feel no control in. Whenever a man treats me that way, I feel so angry. I want to lash out and hurt them. I want them to feel abused and objectified. I frequently fantasize about inflicting physical harm, like breaking their nose. But I know that if I even acknowledge them, they have won in some way. So most of the time, I hold my tongue and keep walking. But, oh god would I love to just destroy them. 

I have bouts where I feel extremely angry about my past. Last night, I saw a photo of someone on facebook that reminded me of my ex husband. I immediately felt rage and disgust. “How could I have dated someone so ugly and deplorable?” “I should have never given him the time of day...” These thoughts overwhelmed my mind. I HATE HATE HATE how my bad decisions have created a history of me giving away my own power. I HATE looking back and seeing myself as so submissive and codependent to such disgusting people. My ex was racist and sexist and an alcoholic. His soul was putrid. If I could go back in time I would stop myself from ever even making eye contact with that disgusting creature.

Where are the good people at? I need to surround myself with people with good souls. But they seem so rare. It feels unfair that the world is full of trashy people.

Being surrounded by people like that to this day makes me feel assaulted. It feels like the hole in my heart gets bigger every time I meet someone that does not have love and peace in their heart. I crave that love and that peace so badly. Yet most people I encounter on a daily basis are vile and operate in a very poorly evolved state of mind. People don’t SEE me. And I can’t SEE them. It is sometimes so unnerving to look into someone’s eyes and not be able to detect the soul. Where is it?

In addition to people around me being not-so-great, I really haven’t been too kind to myself either. Although I have been exercising and making an effort to nourish my body, I still seem to be steeping in a broth of my own pain and negativity. I have been very critical of myself. I keep feeling like a failure and like I don’t deserve to earn my degree this fall. I feel like I have not performed as well as I could have. I feel like I am too depressed sometimes to even get up and put on clean clothes. But I want to be able to wake up and attack the day! I want to be that girl that busts ass in the gym every day and slams out her schoolwork and gets all A’s- while eating fabulously healthy and maintaining flawless skin and hair. That is all I really crave at this point in time. I want to feel like I am taking care of myself to the best of my ability. Every time I put on a jacket that feels too small, or shoes with a hole in them, I feel like I’m slowly whittling away at my sense of self worth. I am always afraid to invest in myself, however, because I get anxious about my money. There is also the part of me that strongly believes that I don’t deserve ANYTHING. I feel like I deserve to be homeless and hungry and ugly. I feel like I deserve to be punished. I feel like I am wasting cells and atoms with my body. I don’t believe that people like me, or that I am capable of making anyone happy. I don’t think that I am capable of making myself either. I feel obsessed with accomplishing my goals because I feel like it will finally make me WORTHY. I feel like once I have a degree, people will like me, and most importantly, I will like me. Right now, I feel kind of worthless for a variety of reasons: I don’t have an expensive car, my skin still breaks out, my teeth aren’t perfectly white, my boobs aren’t big enough, I’m not muscular enough, my tan isn’t even, I have too many freckles on my body, my posture sucks, I don’t have a degree, I’m not some prodigy kid that can have a PHD in a snap (at least i don’t think i am), I don’t keep up with enough of my hobbies, I spend too much time just looking at memes, i dont eat healthy, my self control isn’t always great, etc. This list is constantly running through my head. I try to silence it by trying to solve the issue, and it seems to work. But I know that some of these things will take time. My degree will take time. It will take time to get more muscle bulk. And that kind of frustrates me and makes me feel like I’m not in control. 

Most of all, I don’t know who I am! I don’t know what career I want. For now, fuck engineering. It’s not worth it anymore. I don’t want to spend my college years slaving away at my desk watching smoke pour out of my ears only to graduate and do the exact same thing at an engineering job. I want to travel! I want to perform! I want to be surrounded by beauty. I want to be around beautiful scenery, beautiful people, beautiful music, and delicious food. I need tranquility and excitement. I want to feel ALIVE. I want to feel loved. I want to feel like I am growing every single day. I want people to know who I am. I really want to be around cute birds. Maybe I’d like to even have my own parrot. I want to have beautiful outfits to wear and regular manicures and I always want to feel like I look beautiful. I want to feel secure in myself and know that I can rely on myself to be these things. I won’t want my life to be a constant juggling act between working too hard on myself and letting myself go.