#im thinking about notr...if this has been done before im sorry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imnotcameraready · 5 years

Text

chivalry is dead (4)

A/N: also can be titled “roman #1 get so valid that BS almost started crying while writing this” — roman gets valid and things are about to speed the h e c k up!!!!

WARNINGS: Sympathetic Deceit, cursing, panic, yelling/arguing (things get Bad before they get Good), crying, self-hatred, self-deprecation, more mentions of being touch-starved (im returning to the story’s original idea YEET) — let me know if i missed anything!!! also i realize i stopped tagging sympathetic deceit? so im gonna go back and.,,.. fix that., ., . ., . .

Words: 3796

Pairings: in this one? Roman gets valid and loved, but nothing overt yet

Part 1 (chivalry is dead) — Part 2 (i’m wishing) — Part 3 (the bells of notre dame) — Part 4 (honor to us all)

AO3 link!

@starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda @askthesnake @k9cat

enjoy!! <3 <3

“The….Playwright,” Deceit recoiled, nose scrunching up as the name rolled off his tongue. He didn’t like the confusion, of course, but he especially didn’t like how Roman was being honest about his name. “I think I speak for all of us when I say that we don’t want to deal with your dramatics right now, Roman.”

“What’s the purpose of your outfit change?” Logan took a step closer, and Roman took a step back from Logan’s accusatory tone, “And all of these outfits? And the pseudonym? Where did your room go? Why have you been hiding for a week? What—”

“That’s all backstory, I can’t help you there. It’s not very fun to focus on,” Roman — the Playwright? — walked around the group, towards the table, “Roman and the Imagination are in a very important discussion, and you all interrupted us at the first climax.”

He leaned on the table, ignoring everyone by looking through some papers, mumbling to himself. It was unnerving. The energy of how the Playwright carried himself, just from seeing him, was distinctly Roman-like. But not. He seemed more orderly, hands holding the papers delicately, covered in handwriting that wasn’t nearly as loopy or rushed as Romans’ typically was. It was as though they’d entered an Uncanny Valley.

The group shared looks in a circle, Patton’s eyebrows pinched in worry, Deceit with a tense frown, Logan with an impatiently cocked eyebrow, Virgil and tired snarl. The room’s tension was heavy; it was a miracle that the Playwright was ignoring it.

To Deceit, it seemed that the other three didn’t understand the atmosphere change. “I’m really done with how often you all hide things from each other,” he said, “Look at him. That’s clearly not Roman.”

Patton caught Virgil’s eye. He was staring at the ground, hands shaking at his sides, shoulders hunched to make himself seem smaller. Patton extending a hand towards him, but Virgil pulled away. He marched away from the group and towards the Playwright, ignoring Patton’s hushed warning “Virgil!” and grabbing the Playwright by his sleeve with both his hands.

He spun him around to face him, holding the Playwright tight but trembling horribly.

“I don’t know what you and the Imagination’re on about, but you’ve been locked in here for a week and you got us all worried. And now you’re saying you’re not Roman? You’d better start explaining what the hell you’re doing in here, or we’re dragging you out into the common room,” his voice was deeper, doubled over with his Tempest Tongue, “I’m not fucking with this.”

The Playwright just stared at him, wearing a disgruntled frown. He leaned forward, putting his other hand on Virgil’s chest and pushing him away slow. “If you all paid more attention to the foreshadowing, then you would have seen this coming,” he said.

“What foreshadowing?!” Logan all but shouted, startling them enough for Virgil to let go of the Playwright’s hand, “You cannot just speak in literary terms and expect everyone to understand you as though this’d been expected. This whole debacle has frankly been too obtrusive to our regular routine. You’ve been unnecessarily tense, causing the rest of US distractions in our work out of worry for you. And with Thomas’ new videos to think of, our production has been placed on a halt because of your gratuitous pity parties—”

“Logan!” Patton yanked him backwards and effectively shutting him up, “That’s enough!”

Logan looked back at Patton, who appeared angrier than ever, and then up at Deceit and Virgil. Both had similarly shocked and fearful expressions. “We know you’re worried, we’re all worried, but you can’t vent your anger out like that,” Patton hissed, out of the Playwright’s earshot.

Clearly the tension’d built up. Logan looked back up at the Playwright. His hands were gripping the table behind him, chest heaving as his breathing quietly picked up. Behind his glasses were tears growing in his eyes, face contorted into a hurt and disgusted unhinged-jaw scowl. What an outburst. Logan leaned back, withdrawing his hand from where he had been angrily pointing a finger just seconds before.

Immediately, he knew he had to apologize. “I...Roman, I—”

“No development,” the Playwright was venomously angry, “No-No awareness. From any of you. I already said I’m not Roman. Not….”

His voice cracked and he looked away. “Not all of him, anyway,” he turned back around, facing the table, shoulders hunched over.

Patton pulled Logan back, letting him quietly stand with Deceit and Virgil. He approached the Playwright slowly and put a hand on his shoulder. “Playwright, right?”

The Playwright swatted Patton’s hand away. “Don’t touch me,” he hissed.

Patton’s brows pinched again, and the Playwright continued in a softer voice, “It-it feels weird. Sorry.”

Alright. Alright, that was okay. Patton leaned on the table besides him. “That’s okay. I’m sorry we interrupted you. Really. But we’re all really worried about you, and we miss you a lot, all of us. We didn’t know what was best to do, since you don’t like being interrupted, but we couldn’t just leave you alone. And, if there’s something we can do to help, we’d like to. We just wanna understand what’s going on.”

The Playwright looked up at him with a single eyebrow raised and fresh tear-tracks down his cheeks. It didn’t look like he was bought what Patton was selling.

Patton took a deep breath and kept going. “I’m sorry we didn’t check on you sooner. But we, um. We wanna help you finish, uh. Writing the story. Or play. You’re a Playwright,” he was rambling now, wasn’t he? He should wrap it up. “We just care about you, a lot.”

He searched Patton’s face for fault and, finding none, turned back to the group. Logan’s fists were balled as he stared hard at the carpet, and Virgil and Deceit were standing besides each other, both watching the Playwright with set jaws. Virgil gave a tiny nod. Yeah, they did care, and they sure as hell weren’t leaving without answers.

The Playwright looked at Patton again. “It’s alright, right, Playwright?” Patton asked, voice soft with a puckish edge.

His response was to snort quietly and punch Patton’s shoulder gently. “I appreciate the wordplay.”

Patton giggled. The Playwright chuckled, too, and wiped his face with the butt of his palm. “I’m sorry, you all,” he said, “I’m, um. This whole situation has been a headache and a half, incredibly stressful, so I must report that my emotional state is rather volatile.”

He cleared his throat, fixing his tie and vest, without looking at the group yet. “We–I–All of us didn’t think you’d care enough to be involved, but now it’s a little late for big changes. Thank you for checking, though.”

Again, nothing hidden. Deceit cast a sidelong look at Virgil. Virgil was fiddling with his zipper while watching the Playwright, tugging it open and zipping it shut. He seemed to be calming down himself as the but the lingering questions of what the heck was happening definitely weighed in everyone’s minds enough to keep him on edge. Deceit glanced at Logan, who was watching Patton with a blank look, before deciding to ask himself.

“So. Playwright,” he stepped closer, one careful step at a time, ignoring how the Playwright was refusing to look at him, “What’s happening? Care to explain?”

The Playwright just gazed around at Logan, Patton, Virgil, then Logan again before answering. “I’m sure you’re all wondering that. Sit, I guess. I’ll provide some exposition, for a change.”

He waved a hand, conjuring couches behind them. Slowly, each Side sat, though everyone leaned forward to an extent. The Playwright sat on a stool in front of them, cradling some papers he’d pulled from the table.

“Roman — the Roman you know, the Prince — had an epiphany. I believe he mentioned it on camera, actually, during the Sander Sides episode ‘Crofters: the Musical,’” the Playwright squinted at one of the papers. “‘I can’t help but wonder if we as a society are past the days of celebrating dashing princes and acts of bravery that are edging on stupidity,’ at timestamp 4:36.

“Despite the acknowledgement that there would be no heavy character development in that episode, that line stuck with him. Princes simply aren’t appreciated anymore, by the audience nor by you all. Thus, to continue maintaining a desired presence, Roman tried to imagine a new form that would be….wanted. But we came up with multiple possible forms. After all,” the Playwright sighed, flipping a page, “Anything is better than the Prince.”

That sat uncomfortably with everyone, though it was difficult to pinpoint why. “I, uh, kiddo?” Patton raised a hand slowly, but the Playwright waved his papers at him.

“Don’t interrupt! Anyway,” he adjusted his glasses, “Back to the source material, Logan is my point of comparison. Hence,” he indicated to himself, “Exhibit A. But I wasn’t the only ‘form’ produced, for lack of a better word. Because there were so many forms — seven, to be precise — we have been hosting a small battle-royale in the Prince’s favored setting. The other six are integrated into Prince Roman’s kingdom village. My themeing is less tied to a narrative and therefore I am backstage.”

“The Mind Palace’s considered backstage?” Deceit jerked his thumb backwards, at the hall of costumes.

The Playwright only glared at him over his glasses. He cleared his throat, looking over Logan and Virgil as though daring them to interrupt, before continuing through his notes.

“All of us theoretically have the common goal of capturing the others and killing them, in the hopes of replacing the late Prince—”

“Hang on, hang on,” Virgil put his hands up, “‘Late’? Roman’s dead?!”

The Playwright rolled his eyes. “Clearly not,” he said, earning an exasperated glare from Virgil, “Roman has simply been dissolved into seven facets, each displaying different characteristics that he possessed. The same could be done to all of you but, well, enacting it in the actual Mindscape without the help of an imagined scenario would likely be painful. Example given, we could probably divide you into impulse, self-deprecation, overthinking, et cetera. Though I can’t declare myself an expert on the Mindscape’s lore, so don’t quote me on that.”

“Thanks for the fucking call out,” Virgil grumbled, pulling his hood up and yanking the strings down.

The Playwright’s brow pinched, not understanding what he’d done wrong. He turned to the other three Sides, lip pursed, and motioned for the conversation to continue.

“So, and correct me if I’m misunderstanding,” Logan said, “But you are one of the seven forms that the Imagination created?”

“Indeed. Like I said prior, I’m the Playwright. The things I represent are more in-line with the creative features of Creativity, though I must admit a little bit of egoism and dramatic flare are definitely written into my character,” he flipped to the last page of his notes, “Much of my inspiration was drawn from you, as I implied earlier. And, to be frank, my goal is simply to maintain order while the other aspects of Roman deal with whatever they believe is correct.”

“I understand. I do enjoy the necktie,” Deceit rolled his eyes at Logan’s self-flattery, sharing a tired look with Virgil. “Focusing on something else, does that mean the other six forms bear different resemblances to Roman as well?”

“Of course. One of the only commonalities I’ve noticed thus far is everyone’s affinity for Disney, but that can be attributed to Roman falling back on a strong creative inspiration base, thus dividing Roman’s representation across multiple character tropes to find one suitable.”

“I don’t—okay, I’m not following,” Patton raised a hand again, “You’re using Roman’s name kinda….without talking about him as a person.”

The Playwright smiled thinly, fingers drumming against his papers. “Yes. I’m discussing ‘Roman’ more as a concept than an individual. Consider it as though myself and the other six are presently different pieces of the whole ‘Roman.’”

“Yet the Roman we know, the Prince as you call him,” Logan felt Virgil squeeze his arm, “He is somewhere in the Imagination. In whatever projected battle you have all created or not, but he still exists.”

“Well, like I said, I cannot declare myself an expert over the Mindscape. We may be able to create and bend reality here, but there are even things that we don’t know,” the Playwright pulled the pen from his hair and scribbled something onto his notes, “That is an interesting point to research, though. I can think of one form that bears a striking resemblance to the Prince, but if they were the Prince before, they certainly aren’t now. Should the Prince be somewhere in the world, we might be able to erase him finally, because I don’t think—”

“Erase? No, no, we need him back,” Virgil stood up at the same time as Deceit, who said “We’re here to GET Roman back.”

The Playwright blinked up at them, pen still pressed hard against his notes. He looked at Patton and Logan, still sitting, and saw them just as shocked. Maybe a little distrusting. He hadn’t been gifted with a sense of emotional atmosphere, so he didn’t fully understand everyone’s reactions to the news he deposited.

“.....Why?” he turned back to Virgil, setting his notes back on the table behind him, “Any of our other forms are more prefered. The fans don’t enjoy the Prince, none of you like the Prince. It could be argued that you just don’t like Roman, but, well. I don’t—”

“We love him!” Patton stood up now. “Roman — the Prince, he’s one of our best friends! And the Imagination can’t just take him away!”

“Yeah, now — yeah. Yeah, no, we need Roman back. I don’t like this whole,” Virgil stood up, too, gesturing to the Playwright, “Roleplay stuff. Give us back our idiot Prince and we’ll get outta here.”

Logan cut in, though stayed sitting. “As much as I’ve enjoyed our discussion here, Playwright, I’m inclined to agree with Patton and Virgil. We would prefer to have the Prince back.”

Deceit just squinted at the Playwright. He was trying to dissect the battle royale situation that’d been described.

“Like I said. He is gone. I don’t know where, I don’t know where the Imagination brought his being or what form he’s taken, but he’s not here,” the Playwright put his hands up, sliding the pen back behind his ear as he did so. “Why are you all so attached to the Prince? Hasn’t he failed you all enough?”

What was the purpose of the battle royale? What were the possible implications?

“Well, we’ve all failed each other a bunch, haven’t we? We want Roman here, flaws and all,” Patton said.

“But the less flaws Roman has, the more desirable he becomes. He’s annoying, not smart, not practical, quick-tempered, loud, dramatic—”

The Playwright understood what they were saying, Deceit realized. He just didn’t understand the why.

“You don’t need to list his flaws, we know. But despite that, Roman is also intelligent, ingenuitive, pensive, reflective, and,” Logan drew in a breath, voice steadying. “And is loved.”

“Well, that’s a great sentiment, but you can’t mean it. That’s—”

“He is ridiculous at times, but he does his best,” Deceit finally stood as well. “You’re unable to weigh his virtues.”

“Oh, he’s got virtues now?” the Playwright’s voice grew shrill. “No one’s demonstrated that line of thinking!”

“Yes, of course he does. He is thoughtful, spontaneous,” Logan was counting on his hand, “Kind, endearing, chivalrous—”

“Haven’t you heard? Chivalry is dead!” the Playwright’s voice increased, suddenly screaming. “No one wants the stupid, annoying, needy Prince Roman! You don’t want ME!”

His back immediately straightened, hands shooting to his mouth as his words echoed around the darkened costume room.

Everyone froze as well, staring at him with incredulity. The Playwright leaned back onto the table and looked down, hands still gripping his mouth.

Silence fell as a blanket over the group, dampening the growing tension with an uneasy reality, as the four Sides looked between each other. Virgil opened his mouth, but Logan held up a hand, opened his, and then Patton held up a hand and made a shushing sound. Virgil put his hand over Patton’s, an eyebrow raised.

Deceit wished he understood what the hell they were all saying to each other, with their eyebrow raising and quiet gestures. Maybe it came with them being so intertwined within the Mind Palace. Wow, Deceit, focus on the task at hand before you think of your own solitude.

He cleared his throat, and the other three glanced up. “Of course we want you, Roman,” Deceit’s voice was quiet, gentle even.

“You….I guess that’s an interesting plot twist, if you all truly want him back,” the Playwright whispered into his hands, rubbing them together in front of his mouth, “But you’ll have to convince him. Roman, not….not just the Prince form.”

“Convince you?” Deceit whispered.

The Playwright shook his head. “Him. Roman. All seven of us. And–And not all of us are friendly or docile. And not all of us are forthright, or understood, or easily interpreted.”

Truly an endeavor, if they couldn’t even get into the imaginary kingdom. Deceit stepped back, pursing his lips. He looked back at the rest of the group and, for once, they were all on the same page. “Alright, then.”

Virgil approached the Playwright first. His hands were balled at his sides but he seemed more level-headed than before. “Hey,” he said, leaning on the table besides the Playwright, “If it’s for Roman? Sign me up.”

“Me, too,” Patton said, determination lacing through his voice. He leaned on the other side of the table, meeting the Playwright’s skeptical eyes with a small shrug. “We need him.”

“As much as I am confounded by the Imagination, I agree that we need Prince Roman back. His absence leaves much to be desired,” Logan stood in front of the Playwright, arms resting behind his back.

The Playwright watched Deceit, eyes wide behind his glasses. He slowly gazed over each of the Sides, once again stopping on Deceit, who simply nodded.

This was real.

He sniffed, and he laughed, lifting his glasses again to wipe his eyes. “That was so cliche,” he murmured, “And you’re all fucking saps. You’ve….well, I can’t say I’m difficult to handle, compared to everyone else. I’ll help you into the Imagination and see what I can do to help you find the other forms, but that’s all the deus ex machina I can perform.”

“You’re wonderful, Playwright,” Logan smiled at him, and the Playwright chuckled quietly.

“Rich, coming from you.”

“Um,” the Playwright turned to Patton, whose arms were open. “Can I? I know you said it felt weird, but, uh, I know Roman likes hugs when he’s feeling down, and I like hugs a lot, too.”

The Playwright blinked once, slowly, before leaning into the hold. Patton’s arms wrapped tight around his shoulders.

It felt.

Heavier than a cloud.

He shivered, snuggling his body more into the hold. His hands grasped at the back of Patton’s polo, tugging him closer, if possible. The staticy and burning feeling of Patton’s arms pressing against him was more bearable than he’d thought it’d be. It was nice. Grounding, even, for a desperate piece.

“Thank you, Patton,” the Playwright mumbled into his chest.

Patton laughed, squeezing him again. “Any time, kiddo.”

Left unattended, the Playwright probably could have stood there for hours. The lights in the room, ominously glowing from no direct source, seemed to glow brighter. With a sniff, though, the Playwright leaned back and rubbed his face, then clapped.

“Alright! First, you all need to look through some of those,” he gestured to the left wall of costumes, “Because I refuse letting you go out and ruining the setting. Period dress only.”

“And it’ll give me some time to write in a mechanism for you to find the other forms,” he moved back over to the table, shuffling through his papers with an increased fervor as the other four sides followed. “Perhaps even the Prince, I don’t know. I don’t know what’s happened to him.”

“Period clothing? Doesn’t this count?” Deceit gestured to himself, “Don’t I look period enough?”

The Playwright stopped and shot him a deadpan look. “No. That hat, in a medieval fantasy setting? The cape, maybe, but you can definitely find something more….functional,” His lip cocked up just a little when Deceit let out a dramatically offended gasp, “Go look, I’m sure there are some hats that’ll fit your fancy.”

Deceit turned back around, grumbling to himself but following the other three Sides in flitting through the clothes. As they found outfits that they enjoyed, they brought them to the Playwright, who conjured them into new colors and perfect tailoring without much comment on the outfits. All the while, he was to be scribbling something in a book, black ink flowing from the golden pen, muttering quietly to himself when the others weren’t near. After what seemed like hours, trying on outfits, discussing presentation with the Playwright, the four sat on the couch.

Ready, supposedly, for what was to come. The concern and nervousness of earlier had mixed together, with a new spark of understanding and determination. They were going to get Roman back.

The lights grew brighter.

The Playwright approached them, holding the book in his crossed arms. It looked like a simple leather-bound book, but the front was adorned with a pressing of the same ribbon-esque decal that was on the back of the Playwright’s vest. “This should help,” he said, holding the book out to the trio, “It….As you win over the other forms, the cover will update, and the inside will update with more about them and the world.”

Logan took the book and flipped it open. Sure enough, most of the pages were blank, but the first had a “Table of Contents” with one entry available: “the Playwright.”

“Thank you, Playwright,” Patton said, reaching up and taking his hands, “I’m sure we’re gonna do great! After all, I can’t imagine what’d go wrong.”

Deceit groaned, and Virgil snickered. The Playwright just smiled a tiny bit more.

“I couldn’t dream of anything happening,” Deceit shot back, and Patton laughed.

The Playwright felt a twinge of something, in his chest. Something he couldn’t identify. Maybe another form would figure it out.

“I wish you all the best of luck,” he said.

“Wait,” Logan looked up from the book, “Are you coming with us?”

The Playwright’s smile widened.

“Uh, Playwright?”

He lifted a hand and snapped his fingers.

The couch and the ground beneath them all disappeared. They all let out shouts and screams as they fell through the floor, into the pit, watching the Playwright and the costume room fade upwards into the distance.

95 notes · View notes

longcoat-and-tophat · 5 years

Text

Rant

Hey no Im actually so done with tumblr being "woke" about notre dame. I can't understand why so many people are bothered that people in europe are upset that a unesco world heritage site has been half destroyed. Like what would it take to make you people care, is it that its in france? If christ the redeemer went down would you still be pissed? The pyramids?

What monuments destruction will make you focus on a present events? You havent dedicated your life to helping the poor or slowing down climate change but half of you act like if you think about anything other than that for a single day (because you people were on here 5 seconds later getting pissed people were upset) its all over and your values mean nothing.

Also its not like Europe doesnt care ahout these issues, students strike literally every Friday about climate change. And yes I know newsfeeds have been taken over by this but in Europe its because its happening there and else where its because theyre owned by people with attachements to europe. News gets overrun all the time, thats just how these things go so often, and no its not a good thing but maybe get angry that brexit was The News for 3 months instead of notre dame for a week.

Im also sorry about those churches in America getting burnt down, that is a tragedy and if it had been in a different country it would have been widly covered in the news and considered a horrible act of hate but the US doesnt do things like the rest of the world and you cant expect people from other countries to know that 50-100 year old churches were destroyed in towns they cant point out on maps.

A lot of people have been talking about the millions that were quickly donated as well and this is a point that I do agree is just proof of what these billionaires could do if they cared. However, for once these people are spending something on the public rather than buying a yacht. Im not saying we should settle for that but its not like we didnt know billionaires had billions before.

Basically stop not allowing people to feel about events that happen. What type of world is it that everyone would turn to ancient burning building that has huge significance for people and say "why does it matter havent you heard the ice caps are melting?" They are and its shit but as humans we can care about more than one thing at once. You are allowed to be upset over notre dame and care about everything else too.

Its a tragedy not a competition

#notre dame #rant #notre dame rant

46 notes · View notes

cinnaminsvga · 4 years

Note

hey zee, scholarship anon here. thank you so much for allowing me to ask you questions, it really means a lot bc ive never been so confused before. ive done some research and my hope has been dwindling bc of how truly expensive everything is and how there's so much cost even before going to college but that's beside the point. after doing the research i saw that most scholarship offered by uni usually requires you to apply first? do i have to be admitted first to get the scholarship?

[cont.] i dont,, exactly have a college in mind and dont know which one has the best financial aid. my original plan was finding one that suits my needs for funding but if i have to apply first, surely that complicates it right? and since you're studying in canada, wherein canada do you think is good and affordable for international students? i heard that vancouver and toronto are pretty expensive. also for the sponsor thing, how exactly do you find them? on,, the internet??

[cont.] one thing that's baffling me from all of this process is probably the paperwork and stuff and ive only done research. im still really confused about everything. honestly how did you do it? you're amazing zee! once again thank you for helping me like this, i have no idea where to get help from lmao. thank you so much, truly!!

omg scholarship anon im so sorry,,, this literally got buried under 3 months worth of asks so im only getting around to answering this ;w; hope i can still be helpful even though im so late,,,

okay so you’re correct in saying that scholarships offered by universities are only valid once you actually get in. so for example, when i applied to nyu back in the day, they offered me 10k financial aid per year. my other friend got a lower one of around 8k. these are usually called entrance awards, and they give it according to how “good” your application is (ie your grades, essays, supplementary info, etc) but all in all, i didnt take the scholarship bc it barely covered nyu tuition fees. my current uni offered a small entrance award, but given than my uni is waaaay cheaper than nyu, this was okay for me.

its okay not to have a uni in mind per se, because you really cant know how much each uni is willing to give. there are statistics online and forums that can tell you which universities are more willing to give aid, but it all depends on how great your application is anyway. in my experience, canadian universities are more difficult when it comes to getting awards if youre international, but theyre significantly cheaper than american universities. im studying in vancouver, and my tuition sans all my scholarships is basically the same amount as an domestic american student would have to pay in their home state. thats actually fucking insane!!!!! tldr american universities suck lmao

sponsors are a difficult thing... i dont personally know how to “find” one bc ive never ventured into that territory, but the only way ive seen people do it is either by having connections or by applying at agencies that offer sponsorship (you can probs find them online,, or even on the paper?? ive seen ads for them on my local newspaper before lol)

all in all, the best way to find as much financial aid as possible... is to apply everywhere. and i mean EVERYWHERE. i applied to a total of 8 universities, which isnt a lot compared to other people i know. i have a friend who applied to 15 when we were seniors in high school, and now shes studying at notre dame on a semi-full ride because she just tried everywhere. i know its a lot of paperwork, so pls speak to your counsellor about that stuff!! my counsellor helped me a lot during my senior year, and its more likely that they know things that you dont, so make sure to ask them for help!! or communicate with advisors from the universities themselves!! visit their welcoming centers and take tours,, always ask questions. good luck homie!! you got this

#zee gives advice #PHEW i havent thot about entrance awards in a while... LMAO #Anonymous #answered

1 note · View note

ursoself-satisfying · 5 years

Note

do you think eugene is maybe scared of long boat trips? i was thinking about it the other day, maybe he plans on going on holiday with his s/o and the only way to go abroad would be on a boat right? but maybe he would get a little (a lot? im not an expert on this) ptsd while being on the boat and his s/o supporting him but not fully understanding because lets be honest, no-one apart from the soldiers fully understand this sort of stuff, and maybe there's another veteran on-board who helps him?

Before we get into it I wanna say I totally agree n that unless u actually have experienced that ur rly not gonna understand what the person is going thru n this applies to all kinds of trauma but just bc u dont understand doesnt mean u cant do ur best to or that u cant still love support n help them handle it n it doesnt mean they're not gr8tful for ur involvement even if u dont understand,, writing for post war eugene is always tricky cus I dont wanna assume ik how any of this goes or the extent of what it entails i havent done this I've barely done any research its heartbreaking tho n unfair n I just wanted to say all that before u get into this cus it's a combo of both asks but also more of a touchy subject than I feel like I've addressed here so that's just a heads up but enjoy!!

Omg eugene my bby

I def think hes still afraid of boats big time,, so when the two of u decide to go abroad for ur honeymoon it's a big decision for u two to make one w lots of beforehand discussions n considering all ur other options but in the end the push of ur families n the pull of the convenience of a boat eases u both into the decision, even tho nothing about it u kno is going to be easy,, Eugene is p nervous cus I mean the nightmares have lessened n u both have been learning how to handle his flashbacks n the like but u had never tried anything like this yet so on one hand it could be a good time to test the waters but on the other hand neither of u have any idea how itll actually go

Even just in the car on the way there he starts to get shakey n then on the dock it gets a bit worse but ur hands r on him somehow the whole time either locked in his or on his leg or arm or stuck in his pocket n that comforts him, ur touch anchors him n keeps him from drifting to worse thoughts it keeps him thinking about u instead,, its till hard tho just thinking about it being back on that boat forcing himself to remember hes going to France n it's not occupied n hes not alone n hes going to get to see the sights w his wonderful wife n thoroughly enjoy those bright French mornings n that it's going to be quiet, no more bombs or raids or alarms just u n him under thin sheets hot n sticky n just together n safe

But first,, the boat

On the boat? It was rough,, every bit of turbulence n every odd sway made him anxious n as much as u tried to entice him to enjoy more of the boats activities like a cabaret show or even just playing some chess out on the deck n tho u could get him out a few times n he did enjoy himself,, he spent most of his time in the cabin trying to ignore the fact he was on a boat at all,, the rest of his time not being coaxed out by u he spent napping in a deck chair w u often lounging beside him n watching over his sleep carefully, also making sure he didnt burn n lathering her exposed skin in sunblock as much as u could as he slept

U two kept busy in the cabin tho I mean it was ur honeymoon after all ;;;))) so he ravaged u as often as he could bc not only were u a comfort but also a distraction,, u did other things as well tho like laying n listening to ur favourite radio shows or playing guitar to him or sketching him or dancing together or once even doing a silly little fashion show where he def tripped after putting on ur heels

He did have a few attacks tho but u had prepared as best u could n even if some of ur cabin took a beating in an outburst u had always managed to talk him down n he spent a lot of time in ur arms

His breakdowns btw would come suddenly when something would trigger him like a sudden movement or a splash against ur window n then he would get angry n scared n become protective of u until his aggression bubbled over into hot tears drowned out by ur soft words of confirmation trying to tell him u were on a modest cruise liner n u were going to Europe n that the guns n the bombs n the tropical climate were all far away n u would pull him into a cold shower w u n he would often (fuck u hard first then) just cling to u n cry until he could calm down n fall asleep n if he stirred in his sleep u would repeat the process until he could sleep soundly

He was gr8tful to finally be off the boat n back on land tho n once in Paris the two of u could rly enjoy ur honeymoon beginning w breaking in ur hotel bed ;;;)))

But then the two of u got to see the Eiffel Tower n the Seine n the Louvre n Notre dame n it was all so amazing!!!! U spent half the time w ur head in ur sketchbook n he spent all his time taking photos of u w ur head in ur sketchbook lol

The photos were brilliant n sweet n excessive n there were def a few of u bare n freshly fucked (pardon my french) w the Parisian skyline out the window behind u, the morning like shining thru ur messy hair like a halo,, but there were also many of him from the perspective of u kneeling over him n many more of both of u playfully holding up the tower or picnicking in front of a cathedral w u plucking at ur guitar or him w a bottle of wine at his lips

It was all v picturesque n romantic n perfect n u thought he deserved nothing less n he thought the same for u ::""))

U spent about 4 weeks there together n he had throughly used his time to fuck u in every way possible n use every toy u brought with but then it was suddenly time to go home n u were concerned about eugene being back on the boat but he seemed less nervous when u got on n he admitted to feeling a lot better after the first trip n this time he actually went out w u n u played board games w other passengers n danced in the halls n sang w the cabaret n he still sunbathed n napped n made love to u n wrecked ur cabin n u still listened to all ur radio shows n drew n sang but ur lives felt more full somehow after this experience

Oh n u def showed off everything u had bought is Paris n as much as he loved that silk dress on u he loved peeling it off u even more ;;;)))

He rly did feel better when u were finally home to ur little cottage for the first time together as a globetrotting married couple ::"")) he felt better that he hadnt handled it nearly as bad as hed expected n urs n his trip abroad left u feeling loved n cultured n more experienced in life plus u both had taken a huge chance n now u were better for it n felt more capable n confident that he was getting better n it was an affirmation that u would take care of him n that u would always be there for him, just as u had said in ur vows ::""))

He was happy to consummate ur new marriage in ur own bed for the first time tho lol n on top of that gr8 feeling it was just gr8 that he felt less held back w u there w him especially after the boat experience

So yeah a quick note I rly do think he would be terrified of ever stepping foot on a boat again n would refuse it n be vvv adamant about not doing it again for a vvv long time but I think he could be worn down n would EVENTUALLY be ok w it but maybe not this fast n tho I dont feel like I go into much detail here he def has a hard time on the boat as well like hes just agitated the whole time n probably was prescribed some medication for it if just some motion or sea sickness meds n maybe anxiety but i would say it prolly makes him drowsy so hes kinda out of it which keeps him calm but doesnt stop certain flashbacks n maybe he lashes out n hurts someone once in a while cus it's incredibly traumatic returning to that environment but anyway yeah he would be v fidgety n not like it but in this scenario hes willing to take a chance given how well hes been recovering n how much he trusts u n how much u have helped him n the option had pull so that's why but rly I dont think irl he would have gone back on a boat anywhere near that soon but this is romantic fiction so ::))

Also I have a v specific image of who eugene is w if u cant tell lol so I'm sorry for that specificity but I'm so whipped for him n his gal I lov sm I hope u enjoy n guys I'm so motivated to finally write out the storyline I have for him I'm gonna finally get out his fic ok I promise

#she has a voice!!!#joe mazzello #not queen #nut #the pacific #eugene sledge x reader #eugene sledge #anon asks #answered asks #send asks #send me asks #asks #anons #anon me too wow #anon #send me anons #anonymous

14 notes · View notes

milomeepit · 6 years

Text

Virgil’s Birthday

Prompt: So headcannon where the sides are all talking about special dates ((birthdays, anniversaries, etc)) and Patton goes, “Hey, Virge, when’s your birthday?” and he gets all quiet before just saying it, and horror just fills their faces as they realize it was forgotten a week ago https://chemically-imbalanced-romance.tumblr.com/post/168974544071/so-headcannon-where-the-sides-are-all-talking

Relationships: Platonic LAMP (Maybe Analogical at the end if you squint?)

Tag List: (I think I got everyone? Sorry if I missed anyone who wants to be in my tag list!) (I also tagged everyone I could in the notes of the original post, true to my word!) @istolelittleredshoodie @do-rey-me @chemically-imbalanced-romance @kittyboof8 @zoranzumrov @gay-space-rain @koalamuffins @pinknachoobject @realityisnt-real @minimandy1256 @vixyrules @torito-sakka @liberalautisticnerd831 @linnamonroll-too-good-too-pure @the-king-of-lemons @c-a-l-m-sanders @texastwo22 @shy---anon @themeddlinggirl @lynisnotamused @ohmyfuckingchrist @allaboutme7 @thomas-the-smol-gay-bean @pieces-of-annedrew @shyrinhabits @undertakershairline @nicky-nix @jinxgolden5 @i-support-angsty-virgil @maximusgayimus @cringey-username @nicole-is-online @theangelsoars @keeshy-ekho @failureofaesthetics @thepusheenqueen @captainmcfluffin @ananipurlue @hello-my-fandoms @justarandompersonwithadream @space-princey @sanders-trash-4ever @thelogicalloganipus @lovelylogans @baguettes-save-lives @waste-of-space-666 @lucyheartfilia123 @thatsthat24@issocoldiminfuckingnarnia @sunshine-hal @madd-catter @all-da-fandoms @devilessyeet @thebrokennightmare @fortunebooks @pyromaniacphoenix @leesacrakon @sos-fandoms @ireblogstuff-andineedalife @the-answer-is-juice-or-murder @novagalaxy4real @bennidoesart @sandersfanders @midnightcandy @mantha-has-fallen @awkward-avocado-of-death @softpretzel13 @angsty-sandersides @j-ust-l-ive @roliza @nyxwordsmith @persiphonec @ai-logical @cecil-the-scientist-catcher @im-bad-at-life @littleoptimistme @spoonfullofcrofters @markiptefangirl2017 @blade-the-demon-fangirl @11wolfpup11 @nyifmet @galaxypankitty3030 @seas-space-and-stardust @otto192 @enchantingdefendorperson @deathshadowrules @iaminmultiplefandoms @superwaywardangel @cheapwiltedroses @tree4life25 @fsm-c-sher @that-purple-snazzy-dragon @super-confetti-cannon @future-watcher @anotherspnfangirl @passionateaboutponies

Patton stretched up on his tiptoes, trying to reach up to the top of the window. He huffed in frustration and strained to hang the end of the banner on the hook attached to the wall. What he wouldn’t give to have the extra six inches to be Virgil’s height. “Roman?” He called, half-turning towards the kitchen.

“You need some assistance there?” Roman grinned as he meandered over.

Patton pouted. “I can’t reach. Can you get a ladder or something?”

“Psh, I can do better than that!” Roman proclaimed. He swooped forwards, wrapping his arms around Patton’s waist and lifting him up.

Patton squeaked in surprise, then quickly hooked the banner onto the wall. “There!”

Roman set him down and nodded. “It looks good!”

Virgil glanced up from his spot on the couch. HAPPY MEW YEAR! the banner read. Cartoon cats with party hats were on either end, and he chuckled at the pun. “Nice one, Patton.”

“Indeed, it shall suffice for the celebration,” Logan agreed. He sat at the kitchen table, carefully drawing out a schedule for the new year. Papers, rulers, and pencils littered the surface around him.

“Yaaaaay!” Patton grinned, clasping his hands together and bouncing up and down excitedly.

“So, what’s on the agenda for 2018 so far, Specs?” Roman asked, coming up behind Logan and clapping a hand on his shoulder.

Logan jumped at the sudden touch, frowning up at Roman. “Well, first of all, we need to work out resolutions-”

“Because that went so well last year,” Virgil said dryly.

Logan cleared his throat and continued. “Then of course, there’s Patton’s birthday, Valentine’s Day, Memorial Day, your birthday, Independence Day, Labour Day, Halloween, my birthday, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Now, naturally, I believe we should be focusing on staying organised in the new ye-”

“Wait!” Patton interrupted, shooting over the the couch and flopping down next to Virgil. “You forgot Virgil’s birthday!”

Logan blinked, looking closer at his schedule, and frowned again. “... I have indeed. My sincere apologies, Virgil. I’ll add it immediately.”

Virgil sighed, cupping the back of his neck. “N-nah, it’s fine, guys. Don’t worry.”

“C’mon, Gloom N’ Doom, we couldn’t forget about you!” Roman insisted.

“Virgil, what’s your birthday, kiddo?” Patton smiled at him.

“It’s, uh...” Virgil licked his lips, nervous. “My birthday’s December 19th.”

The room went silent for a few seconds, and he regretted saying anything. He closed his eyes, curling up tight. There he went again, spoiling the mood. God, couldn’t he keep his mouth shut-

“We missed your birthday?” Patton whispered, horror clear in his voice as he gently touched Virgil’s shoulder.

“It’s fine, guys, don’t worry about it,” He murmured dismissively, unable to meet Patton’s eyes.

“It most certainly is not fine!” Roman shook his head. “Virgil, we are very sorry-”

“It’s fine,” Virgil snapped, shaking off Patton’s hand and standing. “Just drop it, okay?” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “... I’m going to bed.”

“It’s 4pm,” Logan glanced at his watch.

“I’m tired.” Without another word, Virgil disappeared up the three steps leading from the common area into the hallway.

“... Uh oh,” Roman sighed.

“Oh nooooooooo, we have to do something, guys!” Patton rushed over, grabbing onto Roman’s sleeve.

“Absolutely.” Logan agreed. “The only question is what? We clearly wouldn’t want to overwhelm him if he’s already not feeling great about it.”

“Buuut, it needs to be something special. Something... that just screams Virgil...” Roman mused.

“I’m gonna start making a cake!” Patton announced, sprinting to the kitchen. “Do you guys think chocolate would be good? Oooh, maybe devil’s food. Or black forest?”

“I think I remember Virgil saying he liked cherries,” Logan replied, setting aside the schedule and pulling up another piece of lined paper. “Roman, can you help me brainstorm some movies that Virgil might like?”

“Top of the list, Black Cauldron. Hmm...” Roman tapped on his chin. “The Hunchback of Notre Dame might be good as well. Return to Oz, perhaps?”

“All those suggestions sound really good!” Patton grinned. “How about Fantasia?”

“Fantasia? For Virgil?” Roman didn’t sound convinced.

“Well, sure! He likes music a lot. The animation is gorgeous. It’s right up his alley!” Patton explained.

“True, true... I’ll write it down,” Logan nodded.

Meanwhile, as the three older Sides talked, Virgil was pacing back and forth in his room. Good job, dumbass, you upset them all. God, why do you even bother? It’s not worth it anyway. You’re not worth it. Even if they did do something, you would have said or done the wrong thing.

His hands nervously raked through his hair.

You’re just fucking everything up again. They’re gonna hate you for not wanting to participate.

His fingers tightened into fists, pulling at the roots of his hair.

theyhateyoutheyhateyoutheyhateyoutheyhateyou

He sunk down into his bean bag, shaking. He tried to focus on his breathing. He could see the danger signs, see that he was standing right on the edge of a meltdown. The air was thick and heavy, hard to heave into his burning lungs. He couldn’t. Not right now. He couldn’t call the others to help. He couldn’t do it right now.

hecouldntcouldntcouldntcantdoanythingcantevensuffocateright

He shuddered, lurching forward off of the bean bag and crawling towards his bed. He snatched the Eeyore plush off of his bed- a gift from Patton- and clung to it desperately.

See, Patton gave me this, Patton cares, they care. They care. They care. He repeated to himself silently as tears began to roll down his cheeks.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, curled awkwardly on the ground, silently crying until his eyes seemed to run dry. Minutes? Hours? Time seemed static, unchanging, within his little bubble of misery.

Well, aside from the sun going down outside his window, but that was an illusion anyway.

A soft knock on the door shook him out of his blank trance. He leapt to his feet, scrubbing at his face quickly with his hands. “Yeah, what is it?” He called, doing his best to sound nonchalant.

“Hey, there, buddy...!” Roman’s voice was cheery, suspiciously so.

“... Can I help you, Princey?” Virgil rolled his eyes, gently setting Eeyore down on the bed before he trudged over to the door. He stood before it with his arms crossed, not yet opening it.

“So, Logan wanted some help with planning the next few videos and he wanted to see if you had any input?”

Virgil stiffened. Of course. Even after earlier, a small part of him had been quietly hoping that they would ignore him, make a big deal out of it, do something special. He viciously crushed the thought. He had told them to drop it, they had. He should be happy they did as he asked.

Not that they understand what you want because you never fucking talk to anyone.

idiotidiotidiotidiotidiotidiotidiot

“Y-yeah, sure. I’ll be out there in a sec.” He replied, glancing at himself in the mirror and frowning. His eyeshadow was smudged to hell and back.

“Excellent!” There was a pause. “Out of curiosity, do you like cherries?”

Huh? “I mean, they’re okay, I guess.” Virgil shrugged as he began to clean up his face. “Why? We doing a fruit video or something?”

“Yeah, something like that. Just curious.”

Virgil set down his makeup, then opened the door. Roman was leaning against the wall across the hall, a thoughtful look on his face. “Gee, you almost look like you have a brain,” Virgil said sarcastically.

“Surprisingly, it does exist,” Roman laughed.

Virgil snickered. “You’re a dork, you know that?”

“And proud of it!” Roman extended a hand and grinned. “Virgil, do you trust me?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “I mean, you asking honestly or...?”

“Shut up and close your eyes, Mr Secretary of Nagriculture.” Roman grabbed his hand. “I promise not to trip you up.”

“Oh gee,” Virgil snorted, closing his eyes, “I feel safer already.”

Roman led him down the hallway, dodging around the pot plant next to Patton’s door. “Okay, gonna stop just before the stairs, alright?”

“Sure?” Virgil frowned.

He heard hushed whispers, a giggle from Patton, and Logan sighing. He strained, trying to hear what they were saying.

“Are you ready, Virgil?” Patton asked, suddenly much closer to him.

He jumped slightly. “Uh... yes?”

“Open your eyes and come on in, then!”

Virgil cracked open his eyes and took a step forward, onto the middle stair.

He was suddenly assaulted by party horns, confetti, and a spray of silly string onto his chest. He yelped and jumped, losing his balance. His foot slipped off the stair and he landed with a thump on the wooden floor.

“Oh, gosh, are you okay?” Patton tossed his party horn to the side, kneeling down next to Virgil.

Virgil looked around the room, speechless. Black, purple, and grey streamers were hung from the ceiling, draping down like cobwebs. A dark purple tablecloth had been thrown over the dining table, where a large purple and black iced cake sat. Even from his spot on the floor, he could see the dark glazed cherries in a ring on the top. Balloons bobbed up from each chair, with more tied to weights dotted around the edge of the room.

What caught his attention most, however, was the large, bright banner hanging across the top of the window. Happy Birthday, Kiddo! It read in bold, colourful writing, with his purple stormcloud on each end.

“Patton... your banner. You worked so hard to hang that up,” He mumbled.

“Oh, shucks, I can hang that up again with some help!” Patton waved a hand, laughing.

“I...” Virgil put a hand over his mouth, unable to say anything else. Tears pricked at his eyes.

Oh great yes go on cry theyll just think youre even more pathetic go on virgil start up the pity party thats all this anyway they just feel sorry for your stupid ass youre so needy

“Virgil, are you alright?” Logan asked, stepping closer, concern etched into his face.

Virgil opened his mouth, his hand still loosely touching his face, but nothing came out. The tears began to overflow from his eyes. They rolled down his cheeks, fat and hot, and he choked out a sob.

Roman threw his can of silly string over his shoulder and dropped to his knees in front of Virgil, expression worried. “Hey, hey...” He said soothingly, taking Virgil’s free hand and squeezing it gently.

Logan sat on his other side. “What’s wrong, Virgil?” He asked, his voice soft.

Virgil sniffled, waving his hand at the decorations, the cake, everything. “I-I don’t...” He struggled, swallowing another sob. “I don’t deserve any-any of this...”

Patton’s eyes started welling up. “Vir-gil!” He exclaimed with a huge smile. “Of course you do! You are perfect and special and wonderful!” He threw his arms around Virgil’s shoulders, almost knocking the featherweight Side onto his back.

“Indeed you are. There’s nobody else than all three of you who I would want by my side in life’s great adventures!” Roman proclaimed grandly, beaming at him.

Logan paused for a few seconds before speaking. “You’re vital. Both to Thomas’ functioning... and to us. We wouldn’t be... us without you.” He said slowly. “We... love you, Virgil.” He laid a hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

theydontmeanittheyhateyou

Virgil sniffled again, ignoring the voice in his head for the first time that day. He had solid proof. The lingering smell of baked goods. Patton’s hug, his glasses pressed awkwardly against Virgil’s cheek. Roman’s grip on his hand, warm and solid and soft and comforting. Logan’s gentle, subtle, touch, soothing in it’s own way.

“I-I love you guys, too.” He smiled.

#it got a little away from me #im sorry #but also im not sorry at all #virgil #sandersssides

286 notes · View notes