you don't understand but i laughed so hard at this

Hearing Voices Part V - Joins This Hell
  • Ruby: *adjusts outfit*
  • Qrow: You alright, kiddo?
  • Ruby: Yeah. I just got bark and dirt all over my butt sitting on that log back there.
  • Nora: Me too! It's so annoying...
  • Ruby: Right?
  • Jaune: What are you two talking about?
  • Ruby: It's a skirt problem.
  • Nora: Yeah, you boys wouldn't understand!
  • Ruby: Actually, Jaune would...
  • Nora: Oh, that's right. But the rest of you boys wouldn't understand.
  • Oscar: *pauses, suddenly far away in a memory*
  • Ren: No, I suppose we wouldn't.
  • Qrow: We should keep moving.
  • Oscar: *small snort of laughter*
  • Qrow: *turns to glare at Oscar suspiciously*
  • Ruby: Oscar?
  • Oscar: *starts laughing outright*
  • Jaune: What's so funny?
  • Qrow: *glare intensifies*
  • Oscar: Ha ha ha! Ha ha - BA HA HA HA HA HA HAHAHAHAHA!
  • Qrow: *starts moving towards Oscar*
  • Ren: Is he alright?
  • Nora: I don't get it. What's so funny?
  • Ruby: Oscar?
  • Oscar: *laughing so hard he can barely speak* Ha ha, like...LIKE WHAT YOU SEE! Hahahahahaha!
  • Qrow: *grabs Oscar by the back of the collar and starts dragging him away from the others*
  • Ruby: Uncle Qrow! What are you doing?!
  • Nora: What's wrong with him?
  • Qrow: *not turning around as he drags Oscar away* ISN'T IT OBVIOUS? HE'S A CRAZY PERSON! HE TALKS TO A VOICE IN HIS HEAD! HE'S INSANE AND YOU SHOULDN'T LISTEN TO HIM OR TRUST ANYTHING HE TELLS YOU!
  • Ruby, Nora, and Jaune: *speechless*
  • Ren: *even more speechless than usual*
  • Oscar: *still in fits of laughter even while being dragged* HA HA HA HA! La - HAHA - Landing strategy! HAHAHAHAHAHA!
  • Guren: Last night I accidentally slept with Mahiru.
  • Shinya: Really?
  • Guren: Yes.
  • Shinya: You accidentally slept with Hīragi Mahiru.
  • Guren: Yes.
  • Shinya: Accidentally.
  • Guren: Yes.
  • Shinya: I don't understand. Did you trip over something?

hobbitdragqueen  asked:

It probably wasn't directed at me but when I was trying to run food, clean tables, help out in wash and bring stuff to the coffee till I overheard this customer say to her friend "that's the thing with this younger generation, they don't know what hard work is". I've lost 7 pounds since I started this job a month and a half ago, I don't go to the gym or eat particularly healthy but that's how hard I work. Bitch.😒

It does sound like you overheard another conversation unrelated to you, but it’s still a shitty mentality. A lot of people my age talk shit about millennial like baby boomers talked shit about us. Plus from what I understand anyone 34 and younger IS a millennial. I’m 33, so I am one. It makes me laugh so hard seeing people my age act like they’re hot shit and so much better while not understanding that they are a part of this age group. Yeah, we’re on the older side, but we’re still under appreciated and insulted too. Not as widely as those in their late twenties and younger, but we’re still one of them. I call people out that are my age now and tell them that. They get all huffy like a kid “NO I’M NOT!”. Bitch, yes you are, stop sounding like a goddamn 80 year old woman complaining about whippersnappers. You’re not quite near as dead yet, asshole. -Abby

signs as perks of being a wallflower quotes
  • Aries: "And in that moment, I swear we were infinite"
  • Taurus: "If you care about somebody, you should want them to be happy. Even if you end up being left out"
  • Gemini: "So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be"
  • Cancer: "I think everyone is special in their own way. I really do"
  • Leo: "I'm going to do what I want to do. I'm going to be who I really am. And I'm going to figure out what that is"
  • Virgo: "I just need to know that someone out there listens and understands and doesn't try to sleep with someone even if they could have. I need to know these people exist"
  • Libra: "We accept the love we think we deserve"
  • Scorpio: "It's just that I don't want to be someone's crush. If somebody likes me, I want them to like the real me, not what they think I am. And I don't want them to carry it around inside. I want them to show me, so I can feel it too"
  • Sagittarius: "We didn't talk about anything heavy or light. We were just there together. And that was enough"
  • Capricorn: "I just want to know that you're very special...and the only reason I'm telling you is I don't know if anyone else ever has"
  • Aquarius: "He's a wallflower. You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand"
  • Pisces: "There's nothing like deep breaths after laughing that hard. Nothing in the world like having a sore stomach for the right reasons"

anonymous asked:

I laughed SO HARD at your "even Satan got a tragic backstory" post. It's so true, and you actually had a point there. Even the worst character needs a complex development and a compelling backstory so we can understand his motivations. I don't know why antis can't see past their own noses and get that.

Hahaha hi, anon. 

In The Pleasure of the Text, Roland Barthes divides the effects of the text into two: plaisir (a frugal pleasure) and jouissance (a sublime bliss). This distinction further corresponds to his concepts of texte lisible (”readerly”) and texte scriptible (”writerly”). Basically, the plaisir (pleasure) of the text corresponds to the “readerly” text and the jouissance (sublime bliss) corresponds to the “writerly” text. The “readerly” text wants to please the audience. He doesn’t want to challenge the reader’s core moral values (good/evil, heroes/villains). If they do, the readers feel insulted and reject the text. The “writerly” text, on the other hand, provides bliss because it challenges the readers to understand its literary codes through metatext and forces them to break out of their submissive role as mere observers.

In my opinion, antis want to extract plaisir (frugal pleasure) from every single text they come across, and when they’re confronted with something that demands an active role and/or challenges them, they get offended by the fictional world, as if the narrative is attacking them personally through the characters’ actions.

These people apply an extremely rigid set of moral values to characters and narratives, and they are unable to enjoy fiction if the narrative or the character’s morality is conflicting with their own. They don’t want to truly engage with the text, and they’re pissed when other fans are able to extract jouissance (sublime bliss) from something they personally dislike. It’s pretty ridiculous, over the top and immature. 

(I apologize for the academic rant but I spent the whole day in class, so French Structuralism is all over my head right now and I need to get it out of my system.)

  • Shale: It has become rather close to the other Grey Warden
  • Alistair: ...Yes I suppose I have, haven't I?
  • Shale: I find this difficult to comprehend. It is whiney and weak and always laughing
  • Alistair: Then I guess a romance between you and I is completely out of the question, huh?
  • Shale: And the attempts at humor, I cannot understand why it is endured!
  • Alistair: Maybe you should ask HER why she likes me so much instead of bothering me with it
  • Shale: It has a loud mouth. Why its head has not been crushed already is hard to imagine
  • Alistair: Or maybe you just happen to figure she likes me a lot more than you
  • Shale: Don't be foolish
  • Alistair: Yes I thought so!! Just watch your step or I'm totally telling
  • Shale: I'm going to stand over here now

Can you imagine everyone at a play together, Isak and Even making out in the back, seemingly attached at the lips, Magnus seeing them and trying to kiss Vilde who just wants to watch the dang show so she accidentally slaps him and feels really bad, and Jonas is trying so hard not to laugh at them, while Drunk Eva is pestering Noora and Chris who are making eye contact with each other and understanding that she will need some extra help later, and Sana happily looking over all of her friends, not even paying attention to the show because she is so content with her life at that moment.

What He's Like When He's Jealous (Kissed By The Baddest Bidder Fanfiction)
  • Eisuke: Rough. He's so consumed with the anger coursing through his veins, he doesn't really understand how he's coming across to everyone else. He especially isn't aware of how hard he's pressing your arm, as he guides you back to his room. Pressing you against the wall, caressing his tongue with yours. "I don't like it when other men look at you."
  • Baba: Cheerful. He's all smiles, and laughs. Joking about it, when deep down, he's actually pretty upset. His smile doesn't reach his eyes, and his hand is squeezing yours a bit tighter. When you question him about it, asking him if he's really fine. He smiles, and squeezes your hand. "It's fine if other men flirt with you, it just means that they have good taste. As long as you don't flirt back, I'm fine."
  • Soryu: Scary. You don't blame the guy for running away like a dog with his tail between his legs. You're a bit scared of right now as well. His face clouded in a dark purple aura, his eyes so cold they look like they were made ice. He held your hand with a stronger grip, allowing you to walk beside him. When you ask if he's all right, he doesn't say anything. Just pulls you towards him and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. "Don't leave my side again."
  • Ota: Pouting. Your painter is actually very Possesive. He makes you take a bath several times, scrubbing you himself the last few times. Trying to "erase" the places where the man touched you. When he can still see them, he finally leans into you and covers them with his own toutches. "I guess, as long as I cover them up, it's almost like they weren't there in the first place."
  • A/N: I left out Mamoru, because I wrote the drabble on him. I know a lot of people have requested this, so here you go!
  • -SKY
  • Katedots: What kind of home [do marinette and sabine stay in re: scary sabine au]? Probably a fancy place.
  • Katedots: because gabe still exists in this world, but his influence is maybe not as great with another designer around. Or maybe she even surpassed him?
  • Katedots: Or we can be like "eh he moved to London" or some shit since he doesn't have a son to take care of.
  • Katedots: So he and sabine work in the same field, but aren't in direct competition
  • Katedots: so maybe sabine does own THE mansion
  • Katedots: it would have a different style though. Active gardens. Very oriental on the inside
  • Katedots: So instead of the cold modern, it would have a very classic style, a mix of chinese and Parisian
  • Katedots: It could be the same "layout" but it would be almost unrecognizable without the same style. And the gates would largely be open. She has a security system, but she's more social than Gabe and hosts parties all the time for business and pleasure.
  • Katedots: So in contrast to Adrien's childhood which was largely cold and quiet and ignored, Marinette is constantly seeking out time for herself because if there aren't a bunch of strangers around, there are a bunch of mom's friends, or mom herself, or the hired help, or whatever else.
  • Katedots: Like the house is busy and lived in, but it's not FOR HER. like a lot of the rooms are off limits or the food is always set aside for a function or whatever. So she has to carve out little spaces for herself. Her room, which is of course lots of pink and her mom is always threatening to send the cleaning lady in. Or the cooler in the corner of the kitchen where she keeps her snacks hidden out of the way.
  • Katedots: And she always has to be on her best behavior around the guests. And getting alone time with mom? forget about it.
  • Katedots: yeah. adrien can't hang out with dad because he's always hidden away "doing work". Marinette feels like she can't hang out with mom because there's always something or someone more important.
  • littlered: i have trouble imagining what sabine would be like in this au though, in regards to other people
  • littlered: i think i can figure out the parent-child relationship but not sabine in a public/social situation ?
  • Katedots: Sabine is scary sabine. She's IMPORTANT and she's very social and outwardly pretty friendly but she's TERRIFYING and very intimidating.
  • littlered: i think caprette or someone mentioned somewhere that she was funny, in a way? haha i didnt fully understand that part though
  • Katedots: She's the kind of person who can look you dead in the eye and say something and YOU DON'T KNOW if they're joking or not so you kind of laugh awkwardly and pray
  • littlered: OH okay
  • Katedots: So yeah, the "people ask me how i got into this business and I always tell them the same thing... how dare you fucking talk to me"
  • Katedots: Because is she joking??? probably. Is it still terrifying??? absolutely.
  • littlered: oh god thats actually pretty hilarious to think about
  • Katedots: So interns and stuff are always seeking her approval because it's hard to come by. She's not super warm. But she isn't unfair.
  • littlered: i like this au more now
  • Katedots: But she can be hard to read, so like... you could laugh at something you think is a joke and then she like looks you dead in the eye and is like "do you think this is funny" and suddenly you're like FUCK no no not at all
  • littlered: yes thank you im getting it now \O/
  • Katedots: and the RUMORS like there are all kinds of rumors about crazy stuff she's said to designers and interns and stuff, but you never know if they're true or not! Like "once i heard that she ripped out someone's seam and told them to re-do it" "wait what?!" "no i heard she stared him down until he ripped it out himself!" "god she's so intense i can't even look her in the eye" "omg me toooo"

anonymous asked:

Are requests still open? O: I know you've got a lot right now (take your time, if anyone complains then theyre, pardon my language, /fuckin rude ass people/) but if you end up getting to it at some point in this lifetime, may I have a short request to their gf saying she'll share her peanut m&m's with them? (This probably sounds really strange but I don't share my peanut m&m's with /anyone/ they're like drugs to me I swear, and I don't tend to eat many sweets either but they're an exception lol)

This made me laugh so hard but also made me super happy like you don’t even understand xD I know this took forever and I’m sorry I hope you like it~

Gifs aren’t mine

SEOKJIN:
Seokjin was actually really touched that you would share something that you loved so much with him - especially if that something was food. He’d tell everyone that would listen that he got to eat some of your favorite food and they didn’t, a wide smile on his face the entire time.

YOONGI:
Yoongi tried to act very nonchalant about the whole thing, but the gummy smile on his face as he savored the food you’d given him gave away how he really felt, though he didn’t really care that you knew; he didn’t mind if you teased him so long as you continued sharing with him.

HOSEOK:
Hoseok was almost giddy as you offered him some of your favorite food, nearly forgetting the food completely as he beamed at you and told you he loved you over and over again. He would eventually take the food from you, popping it into his mouth and eating it like there was no tomorrow.

NAMJOON:
Namjoon loved that you were offering your favorite food to him, but he didn’t want to take it from you if it made you so happy. So, instead, he acted jokingly disgusted by the food, scoffing and saying he didn’t like them; it made you laugh, and you got to eat all of what made you so happy, so it was a win-win for both of you.

JIMIN:
Jimin actually was touched that you would share your favorite food with him, but he was going to over-dramatisize his reaction; he would act over-the-top as he “graciously” accepted the food from you, only to laugh and mutter a sincere thanks before eating what you’d given him.

TAEHYUNG:
Taehyung would assure you that you didn’t have to offer him any of your food, especially since it was your favorite, but he’d take what you’d offered and eat it before you could try to take it back, not wanting to miss his chance at eating the food that you loved so much.

JUNGKOOK:
Jungkook would end up making a joke about the whole thing, pretending to get flustered as he took a step back and asked if you were sure that you were ready for that step in the relationship. Of course, he’d snatch the food from you before you could take it back, grinning all the while.

Thoughts on the types, from an infp
  • Istj: i can really jam with you and i have the maddest respect for you, but i hope you eventually feel the need to lose it and do reckless shit one day
  • Estp: you're cool as hell but you also intimidate the shit out of me, like, i'm a timid bird give me a chance here
  • Istp: i've never met one, you sound frightening yet simultaneously like huge dorks
  • Estj: the ones i know are domineering as fuck like, don't do this i'm a free spirited flower, i'll bite you, don't touch me, jeez...
  • Isfj: angels. You're angels, damn it!
  • Isfp: we get on but simultaneously we don't and it's strange. And i always feel like the cynical bad guy around you people
  • Esfp: you're lovely and easy company but PLEASE CALM DOWN SOMETIMES PLEASE
  • Esfj: you're a wonderful angel but you need to learn how to let things go, for your own sake
  • Infj: you seem chill but simultaneously not. Like you have a dark side or some such dramatic thing. And you worry far too much!
  • Infp: i don't know any of you! Where are you? You're the only ones who understand. You're the only ones who know this hell i'm living with
  • Enfp: we can laugh about bizarre shit together and it's magnificent. Also do you hate literally everyone?
  • Enfj: i'm rooting for you so hard, and i always have done
  • Intj: we've known each other a long time and i get you. I see through you. I know all your ways. I'm rooting for you too
  • Intp: you're weird as hell and it's absolutely great, but i really wholeheartedly wish you could be happy
  • Entp: you cover the pain with dank memes
  • Entj: i don't think i know any entjs. I don't think i'd fuck with an entj. You seem frightening but if i can hack the intj then surely i can hack you guys... Right..?
  • Shale: It has become very close with the other Grey Warden
  • Alistair: Uh...yes, I suppose I have at that.
  • Shale: I find this difficult to comprehend. It is whiny and weak and constantly laughing.
  • Alistair: Then I guess a romance between you and I is completely out of the question?
  • Shale: And the attempts at humor. I cannot understand how it is endured.
  • Alistair: Well maybe you should ask her why she likes me so much instead of bothering me with it.
  • Shale: It has a loud mouth. Why its head has not been crushed already is hard to imagine.
  • Alistair: Or maybe you just happen to figure she likes me a lot more than she likes you.
  • Shale: Don't be foolish.
  • Alistair: Yes, I thought so. Just watch your step or I'm totally telling.
  • Shale: I'm going to stand over here now.
7

~PeteZahHutt Appreciation Post~

• hilarious
• cares so much about his subscribers
• works super hard to create good content for us
• still makes videos even when he isn’t feeling well
• is super sweet with Kara
• has a huge heart
• laughs like a kid
• smiles brighter than the sun
• honest in everything he does
• always positive
• really talented
• incredibly soothing voice, singing and talking
• awesome hair
• super cute

He can always brighten my day, and whenever I see a video from him in my sub box, it brings a smile to my face. Love him so much ❤️

Unintended Chapter 5

5- ROOF TILES AND PIANO 

summary: Foreston Academy was the very last resort for angry, lonely Dan Howell. He never could have imagined meeting anyone like Phil Lester, and Phil never could have known that befriending his new roommate would change his life entirely.

Is there such a thing as being too forgiving?

betas: comefeedmyobsession and kaleidanscope

wc: ~5.5k THAT’S LITERALLY LONGER THAN MOST OF MY NORMAL PHANFICS WHY

warnings: bad chapter name i mean wow zelda couldn’t u think of anything better than ‘roof tiles and piano’ smh

Dan curled up against the wall, the drummers in his head banging harder and harder, the agony splitting his skull as his red eyes blurred with tears.

Maybe it would hurt less if he stopped crying. But Dan couldn’t stop crying.

Four days. That was a new record for him. One of them wasn’t even a schoolday.

He didn’t know what to do- the world around him had seemed to start imploding, wave upon wave of horrible flashbacks and thoughts and sickening fears overwhelming him until he felt his head could burst with the pain.

 

‘We’re putting Buttercup down,’ he hissed, sharp Southern accent cold and emotionless.

'Please. Father, please, no,’ Dan is on the floor before him, face screwed up and red and his knees on the cold marble floor.

'Perhaps you should learn that there will be consequences to your atrocious behaviour in the future, Daniel!’

'Please, Father! Please!’ His voice is just a choked sob now, because he is breaking- his only friend- he can’t- he wouldn’t-

'She’s not done anything!’

'But you have. And you need to learn.

Besides… I never liked that damn dog anyway.’

 

Dan saw two long black-clad legs walk past him and sit on the bed. Two minutes later they were up again. And then Phil was pacing.

Dan wondered if the sound of his desperate sobbing was annoying Phil, and started to feel sorry that he had woken him up last night to see him in this pathetic state.

'I’m sorry,’ he managed to choke out. His vision was too blurred to see legs too clearly, and his viewpoint too low to see anything above the boy’s waist, but he saw Phil stop pacing and turn to face him.

And then Phil was crouching level with him a few metres back, and Dan could see the blue shining eyes beneath the blurry splash of black that defined the top of his head.

'You should be,’ Phil said slowly, and then sighed as Dan dissolved into fresh sobs, body shaking with fear.

Phil didn’t really understand- Dan had beaten people up before- and he didn’t enjoy it as such, but it made him feel good. It was the only way he could ever get any control or respect, and commanding an audience of people as large as there was today made him feel as though he was actually of some importance- for once not clutching at loose footholds that let him slide helplessly down the cliff face when they crumbled- for once, he was not the useless one, the unimportant one, the pathetic one.

So he wasn’t sorry for that.

He also wasn’t sorry for the way he had behaved at the school. The teachers had dragged him off, and told him that he was disrespecting the long and gracious history of the school. This school is here to understand you, they had said. This school is here to help you and let you be who you truly are, they had said. But Dan didn’t want to be who he truly was. Dan despised the person he was. So he wasn’t sorry about that.

He had treated Phil like shit, he knew. He understood that the boy was a genuinely nice person, and although he wasn’t fully clear why Phil had tried to be his friend even after Dan had made it clear that they weren’t to associate, Phil had changed things the night he took Dan down to Firespot. Phil had put the idea into Dan’s mind that perhaps he could be happy with these sorts of people. Perhaps even that he could not be considered pathetic.

The following day had shown that that couldn’t be the case. And so Dan wasn’t sorry about how he had treated Phil.

Much.

He was crying now, horrific sobs crumpling his body in pain and causing him to gasp and snort and all the other vile noises that you make when you’re breaking inside, and Phil looked uncomfortable, and Dan just wished he would leave. He wished Phil hadn’t heard him last night, and he wished he had just told Phil to go back to bed, and he wished he had just kept himself where he belonged- nowhere near someone like Phil. Because now he was stuck in this confusing mess and Phil wasn’t leaving the room and yes, he was sorry that Phil had to listen to his sorrow.

But really, this situation was all Dan’s fault. Dan knew that he was wrong. Dan knew that he had acted like a dickhead. And Dan knew that he had acted irresponsibly. And most of all Dan knew he had acted cruelly. What he had done to Chris had been wholly unnecessary. Having woken up to the horror of another boy lying so close to him, he had exploded at the sight of Chris and PJ acting so intimately as he entered the canteen, and the situation had spiralled so out of control that here he was now, the school a short conversation away from ringing his parents.

And when they did that, his life would be over.

His punishments had gotten worse and worse over the years as he consistently broke the rules, but Dan genuinely couldn’t think of anything else they could take from him.

Dan had nothing else he cared about any more. And so the sickening tarry pit of fear in his stomach was not because of any of these things.

It was because he knew that when his parents found out, they really would hate him.

And for that, Dan hated himself. Dan had hated himself for quite a long time now.

'Dan.’

Dan owed it to Phil to reply, so he choked back his next sob with an ugly squeak and, still staring down at the carpet, replied, ‘I’m sorry, Phil. I’m so sorry.’

'So, what’s happening?’ Phil asked awkwardly. Dan could see that Phil was still furiously angry. But it was like he was programmed to be almost unbearably nice and kind, and so just couldn’t let Dan sob his heart out without at least trying to do something. Which used to infuriate Dan. Now it just made him realise even more how horrible and useless a human he was. ‘Are you going to get excluded?’

'What makes you assume that?’

'You seem devastated. And from what I’ve seen of you so far, you wouldn’t be this cut up about hurting Chris.’ There was an awkward pause as Phil watched Dan dissolve back into self-loathing. 'I’m sorry. That was harsh.’

Phil’s voice was wooden and Dan just looked away.

'I do care,’ he whispered.

'I know you do,’ Phil replied gently, and they both knew that he was lying. 'Do you want a tea?’

Dan twisted around so he was looking up at Phil angrily. ‘Alot of fucking good a tea is gonna do me right now!’ He shouted, voice cracking on the words.

'I was just trying to be nice!’ Phil almost-shouted back, 'I don’t have to do anything for you! I shouldn’t even be speaking to you, after what you did to one of my best friends!’

'Then don’t!’

For a second it looked like Phil was going to storm out again, but something in his expression changed and he stopped still, every muscle tensed up. ‘Why are you like this, Dan?’

Dan clawed his way up the wall so he was face-to-face with Phil, their noses inches apart. ‘Why am I like what?’ He spat.

Phil didn’t answer, simply glaring hard at Dan, Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat, and Dan could see every little imperfection on his face and every colour in his eyes- turns out they were not completely sky-blue as he had thought, but rather an ocean of different colours that swam around with expression and emotion, lit bright from behind by all the care that Phil put into everything and everyone, and the passion with which he stared back into Dan’s eyes now.

'You don’t understand anything,’ Dan hissed. 'You’ve had such an easy life. You’ve gone to one school, you’ve had friends and classes and you’ve behaved and you had parents that gave a shit about you and-‘

He choked off and looked away, glaring down at his feet, furious at himself for giving Phil so much of himself, before quickly treading as hard as he was able on Phil’s foot and running out of the room as fast as possible.

***

 

'Mate, don’t worry about me. I’m Northern. Made of some tough stuff!’

'I’m from up north aswell!’ laughed Phil, 'but I wouldn’t be overly chuffed with a broken leg!’

'Well, I’m not saying I’m happy about it,’ Chris said, rolling his eyes,'but y'know, it’s not actually broken…and it’s quite soothing in here after having to share a room with Peej snoring his head off!’

'Oi! Watch it! You may be an invalid but it doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you!’

'Ooh, I’d like to see you try!’

PJ raised his eyebrows. ‘Make me.’

'God guys,’ Phil moaned, 'do you want me to leave you to it!?’

'Mmm, please,’ giggled Chris as his painkillers came into effect and his head dropped onto the pillow, 'you might not wanna be here when Chris and I,’ he yawned, eyes screwed up with sudden tiredness, 'get frisky!’

'I might go back anyway,’ Phil said, turning to PJ (who was making gagging motions in response to Chris’ comment) as Chris drifted off, 'time’s ticking on.’

'I think I’ll stay in the hospital wing a little longer with him,’ PJ replied, nodding. 'You seen Dan?’ Phil nodded affirmation, 'he deserves to get kicked out for this. Actually, he should be getting police attention. He’s insane.’

'He’s screwed up, Peej.’

'What do you mean?’

'I think his life’s been a mess. I keep getting little hints off him before he clams up. Something… There’s something wrong.’

'A tragic history may explain a crime but it doesn’t excuse it.’

'Where did you get that pearl of wisdom from?’

'Dunno. Can you stick a cup under that leak when you leave? The rain’s getting in. Would have thought the hospital wing would have slightly better roofing, if I’m honest.’

 

Phil turned round quickly as he left, and he could have sworn that PJ was holding Chris’ sleeping hand.

 

***

 

It was raining outside and Dan was just in a black tshirt and jeans. Atleast his dark attire would mean he was less likely to be spotted outside out-of-hours, he thought.

Not that he could really get into much more trouble than he was already in.

His hair was already plastered to his head, rain running down his face in icy rivulets and merging with his stinging hot tears.

He reached up to brush away the water in his eyes but his arm was just as wet as the rest of him and the gesture was pointless and he was trembling with cold and fear and his mouth was dry and his head was splitting in half and half again.

By the time he reached the clearing in the trees that contained the dead embers of Monday’s bonfire, he didn’t realise that his feet had taken him all the way to Firespot.

His clothes were all plastered to his body and his hair drooped pathetically over his face.

As he approached the edge of the clearing again, he automatically gravitated towards the spot he had sat with Phil only two nights ago, curling up on the sodden wood and breathing in the smell of the rain and the damp leaves and mud and tree bark.

 

***

 

When Phil reached his happy place, he almost jumped out of his skin.

There was somebody there already.

 

After leaving the hospital wing Phil had realised he wasn’t ready to go back to the room, so after borrowing PJ’s waterproof mac and cuddling up in it, he had headed outside into the building storm.

Now his fingers were numb with cold and his face spattered with rain, but he felt calmer and less confined. He had been looking forward to arriving at his beloved Firespot and being able to sit down, completely alone with his own thoughts, to mull over how he felt about everything.

And yet, there was somebody there.

Phil crept over, feet squelching in the mud, and realised before he got to him that curled up on the seat was the defeated figure of Dan. Of course it was. Of course it was.

Phil walked away from the place that made him happiest.

Just at that moment, he couldn’t deal with it all.



***

‘Dude you’ve been playing the piano for over an hour and it’s now 3am so I just came to tell you to shut the fuck up.’

Dan spun round to see Chris limp out of the shadows behind him, face and hair partially veiled in blackness.

‘How did you even hear me?’

‘The hospital wing is directly above the music suites, and seeing as my leg is in fucking agony, it may not surprise you to know I’ve had some difficulty sleeping. Basically, the dorms are at the other side of the building, but the hospital wing is conveniently placed over here. Peej is still asleep because he’s a heavy sleeper. Also… I’m not sure how many loons frequently play music at such obscene hours in the morning.’

Dan looked away, trying to hold back the tears. Of course it would be Chris to come and find him. Of all of the hundreds of pupils in this school, of course it had to be Chris.

‘What the fuck is going on with you?’ Chris approached him slowly, carefully, as though he was a bomb that could explode any second. Dan guessed after all that was exactly what he was. A thing to be feared. Unpredicatble, uncontrollable, and hated by everyone.

He didn’t wipe the salty tears away quick enough for Chris not to see.

‘How long have you been like this?’

‘Like what?’ Dan’s hands were still resting on the cold ivory keys- the one single place he felt he was capable of expressing himself.

‘Like…’ Chris waved his arms around as he tried to articulate his thoughts, ‘Like… Well, so… Hating everybody… The people who want to give a damn about you…

‘So… Stupid…’

This angered Dan. ‘Stupid? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? How am I stupid?’ Dan had no redeeming qualities- he knew that- he was a fuck-up in every way, a by-product, good at nothing… But he was sure that he wasn’t stupid. Intelligent- not overly. But not an idiot. After all, he was able to see his own flaws- wasn’t that a thing that made you smart?

‘Yeah, you’re stupid. You’re a goddamn idiot, Dan. Phil… And Peej, and even me, we wanted to help you. We decided to be your friend, and you were a wanker. And then guess what? Phil still took you down to Firespot, and you did it again. Infact, then you decided to out-do yourself. Really,’ he guestured down at his crippled form, and Dan wondered how much he hurt. Probably not as much as Dan himself. ‘You’re stupid because you think David’s crew are where you belong. You’re stupid because you think they actually give a shit about you-’

‘No.’

‘What do you mean, no?’

‘I mean, no. You’re wrong. David and his gang don’t give a shit about me, and I do know that. Nobody gives a shit about me. You have to understand. I accept that. If I wasn’t me, I would hate me too. No, no, I do hate me.’

‘Oh shut up with your self-pitying crap, Dan,’ if Chris had been less exhausted and in agony and if Dan hadn’t been the reason for both of those things, perhaps Chris would have been gentler. But Chris was a good person, and he was pissed off with Dan. ‘We tried. Phil tried so fucking hard. And you still think we didn’t give a shit about you?’

‘You don’t after what I did,’ sighed Dan, staring at his hands, still resting on the piano keys.

‘That wasn’t the question!’ Chris flared up, voice an angry loud-whisper. ‘You’re making all of this about self-pity! If you had stopped being such a wuss, you could have just told those guys to shove off. And then you wouldn’t be in this state!’

‘But I couldn’t. I didn’t. You’re right- I am pathetic.’

Chris allowed himself just a second to howl into his hand in frustration. The darkness in the room filled out between them.

Dan broke the silence that followed with a soft, sad note on the piano, followed by another, followed by another. As he begun to spin the threads of a melody, he looked up at Chris, who slowly nodded his head in silence.

Soon, Chris was sucked in by a gentle, soothing flow of music, the notes swirling around him and taking over all of his anger and frustration, letting it leak out like a poison as he sunk into the tune.

‘What’s that?’ Chris asked when he finished, letting out a deep breath he didn’t know he had been holding in.

‘Uh, it’s called “Dearly Beloved”, from the game Kingdom Hearts? It was kinda like a shittier version of Final Fantasy. But the music was good.’

‘Mhm,’ Chris said, nodding his head as he he looked over at Dan slowly. ‘You’re not okay, are you?’

Dan stared down at they piano, and a glistening tear fell onto one of the keys.

‘I’m going to get Phil. You need to talk to him.’

Dan leapt up and grabbed Chris’ arm. ‘No! Please, no! He hates me.’

Chris rolled his eyes. ‘We both have reason to hate you, dude. And I’m helping you.’

Dan’s voice was low and confused. ‘Why?’

‘Because you need help.’

‘I don’t.’ His voice was now almost inaudible.

‘You’re a mess. And it’s not me you need.I know you need Phil. I can see it every time you look at him.’

As Chris started to stride towards the door of the music suite, Dan dropped onto his knees, eyes once again filling with tears.

***

‘Dan?’ Phil’s voice was soft over the sound of the breeze and the night and the shushing of the stars, because that’s what the silvery night does- it make you feel like you need to be quiet. ‘Dan? Are you up here?’

Phil looked around, head filling with hundreds of panicky situations and reasons why he could fall to his death any moment, and his feet were rooted to the spot, slate tiles slanted scarily beneath him and reflecting the moon’s silver with the rain of the night, his feet six floors further off the ground than he would have liked them to be.

And then at the other side of the sloped roof, Phil saw the silhouette of a boy stretched languidly out under the stars, hair being played with by the wind and skin being tickled by the moonlight.

Phil closed his eyes and took a deep breath, placing one foot forward and then when he felt safe enough, another.

Chris had followed Dan up here. He had said the boy needed Phil.

After everything, was Phil willing to give up his time for this boy? Certainly not his life, right?

Of course he was. Dan needed his help. And who would Phil be if he denied his help to someone?

And then the moon drifted slowly behind a grey cloud.

The darkness was all-consuming, and so was the absolute fear that gripped at Phil’s heart.

The sole of his shoe didn’t have enough grip to hold him in place as his arms flailed and black hair flashed in the wind, and he let out an earsplitting scream as he slid backwards across the tiles-

‘I’ve got you- I’ve got you! It’s okay. Shhh, Phil, Phil, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-

Phil’s breathing was rapid and horrified and brain haywire as he started to grasp the fact that he had almost fallen to his death.

His eyes travelled up the one outstretched arm that was holding him stable on the slippery slate tiles, past his forearm, still in PJ’s rented raincoat, his pale trembling arm, clasped in another-

‘Give me your other hand,’ Dan whispered to him, ‘I can’t hold you up for much longer.’

Numbly, head still mostly uncomprehending, Phil pressed his hand into Dan’s freezing cold one, and slowly, the two of them started to steady themselves on the roof.

Phil was trembling all over. He hated heights as it was, and his near-fall had completely shaken him up. He didn’t want to be here. With Dan, who didn’t care about anyone-

Dan; who had saved his life.

‘Don’t thank me or anything,’ Dan whispered, after realising that Phil was much to scared to release his unrelenting grasp on Dan’s hands, ‘It’s my own idiot fault that you’re up here in the first place, I, I, I almost killed you.’

Phil still didn’t say anything.

‘This is all my fault. All you wanted to do was help me. Chris explained. I mean, I guess I knew that, really. I’m not that stupid. I think.’ He paused, cocking a head on one side, as though wondering just how much Phil was listening. Admittedly, the answer was not much. ‘But please, Phil. I don’t know if I can… Be normal. But we like the same music and books and food and oh my god, Firespot, and I don’t know, I just, I know I don’t deserve it, and you can say no and, I just, could you… Give me a second chance? I mean, I know I don’t deserve it, I know, and… Yeah…’

Fleetingly, the thought crossed Phil’s mind how easy it would be to shut Dan up by pressing his own warm lips to Dan’s, to hold his cheeks, flushed with the cold night air, and to let go of his hands just to tangle them in his dark hair.

When Phil caught himself, he had to take in a deep breath of the cold September air.

Delirious with fear… Shock… Gratitude… Or something. Right?

‘Are you okay just to walk down here a little?’ Dan asked, motioning with his head (Phil still had his hands tightly clasped in his own) towards Dan’s spot a little further down the roof. It wasn’t far, but… Dan wanted Phil with him.

If he was going to do this, he was going to do it here. Dan didn’t know why, but the cold roof and the dark damp night air and the isolation of the height calmed Dan. For some reason, Dan was able to think up here.

He had found the way up onto the roof completely by accident. After Chris had left the music room, Dan had realised he needed to flee before he came back with Phil, and so he had run as far and as madly as he was able in the opposite direction from the dorms.

The corridor that lead to the stairs that lead to another corridor which lead to a tiny hidden doorway which lead to the balcony which lead to the roof was clearly not meant to be found by students, so Dan had known he wouldn’t be disturbed.

He hadn’t counted on Chris following him.

But for some reason, when Dan had seen Phil stumble out onto the roof, things had become clearer in his head; he knew that he had to stay at Foreston; he knew that he had to stay with Phil, with Chris, with the ‘misfits’ of Firespot. For the first time, Dan realised that it might not be a terribly bad thing to not fit in perfectly. In fact, he wondered if trying to fit in was where he had been going wrong all along.

And so he had resolved himself to tell Phil. Tell Phil everything, if he wanted to hear it.

And Phil was here, and now they were sat with their legs hanging over the edge of the roof, hands intertwined and hair blowing lightly in the breeze, and Phil’s blue eyes fixed on his own brown ones, and Dan tried as hard as he could.

‘I’m not going to ever try and excuse anything I do,’ He said as he watched Phil’s and his own legs swing back and forwards together in time, the dark gardens of the school far below their feet, ‘But you said you wanted to know what was wrong. And… I guess I was terrified of making my parents hate me. Well, I mean, I think they already do, but…’

For a second it looked like Phil was about to interrupt, so Dan looked up at him in earnest, begging the midnight-haired boy not to stop him.

‘I’m kinda just in the way all the time. Like, I don’t have any siblings or anything, and I never had any friends round either, unless my mum tried to force me. But I wasn’t all that good at making friends… I don’t know, it all sounds so stupid! I’m just a dickhead, I just-’

‘Dan,’ Phil’s hand gently squeezed his own and then he let go, wrapping his arm around Dan’s waist.

Automatically, Dan leant into him.

‘Have I done too much to be forgiven?’

‘I don’t know. You sprained Chris’ leg. Or something, I’m not sure. He’s not gonna be able to walk properly for a few weeks, so he’s not best pleased, I’ll give you that. I just… I want to like you, Dan. A lot of the time, I do. I want this to not be you, to not be your fault…’

‘But it is.’

‘But it is.’

Dan pressed his face hard into his hands before scraping his fingers back over his scalp and through his tangled, windswept hair.

‘Please don’t hate me,’

‘I don’t hate you, Dan!’ For some reason, Phil looked genuinely shocked, even a little angry, ‘We’re going around in circles here! If I hated you, would I be here? I want you to be you, the real Dan that I know is inside there, the one that sings his lungs out to Muse, and the one that wants to be a good person and do something with his life, and the one that runs across a steep wet roof because he thinks his friend is going to fall off-’

‘Anyone would have done that.’

‘No they wouldn’t.’

‘I don’t deserve another chance.’

‘If you keep saying that, I am going to get so annoyed that I might just swandive off this roof of my own accord.’ Phil growled in reply.

The rain had stopped by then but the night was still thick with the memory of it; the roof tiles slick and shiny and the leaves on the trees heavy and dripping and Dan’s hair damp and curling.

And the night’s storm had left its legacy on the morning with the thick black clouds that filled the sky, the heavy silent night pressing down all around them, not uncomfortably so, but overwhelmingly, deafeningly silent. The blackness was oppressing and inky, torn apart only by the golden glow of streetlights far away towards the road, and the tiny pinpricks of light that dotted the Foreston gardens.

It was now that hour where everything is dead: infact, it was no longer even night, but the miserable time of morning where the only people that were awake in England were the ones sailing their lorries down the motorway in the black, eyes drooping and misty with lack of sleep and radio station turned up loud with garish club remixes to try and keep them awake. Back at Foreston, Dan talked. He spoke in a low voice that barely even classified as a whisper, his tone raw and his speech filled with constant pauses to take rasping breaths. He tried to keep those breaths as quiet as possible, as so not to break the thick darkness around them, and he started to tell Phil everything.

He even told Phil about how he had been expelled from his previous two schools- the posh, private boarding schools that had thrown him out after he got too out of control. The threat his dad made to him the night before he left for Foreston Academy- if he got expelled again, he would be sent off to a behavioural camp.

Dan told Phil how his father was always true to his word.

Phil had a raincoat on, dark and crinkly and shiny with wet, and Dan pressed his side into it, the material transferring all the rainwater straight onto his jumper, causing him to shiver as it soaked right through. Dan had been drenched earlier in the night after his stupid venture into the woods, but he had seized the oppurtunity to dry himself off and change when he noticed the room was empty.

But he didn’t regret cuddling up to Phil, because as he continued to talk, and the black-haired boy listened in perfect silence, he felt a hand tentatively wind itself in his.

And when Dan looked up into Phil’s face, the boy gave him a look as if to say ‘Is this okay?’

And Dan tried to give him a look back that adequately conveyed the message, ‘yes, yes. All the yes’s in the world, yes.’

 

Eventually, Dan’s story was over, and he was overwhelmed with a guilt and embarrassment for having talked solely about himself for so long. But Phil gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

Dan placed his hand on the cool tile beside him to steady himself, and almost overbalanced as it slipped in a puddle.

Phil caught him in under one arm, eyes wide.

And so, for some strange reason that Dan couldn’t quite comprehend, but which filled his heart with warmth and hope nonetheless, Phil sat there on the edge of the roof with him for the rest of the night as Dan told him all about his pitiful life and shortcomings and failings, and then Phil told Dan about his dreams and aspirations, and Dan slowly started to unfurl, telling Phil more and more about himself, until he finally reached the point where he felt the boy knew him better than anyone else ever had.

And when they sat there in silence to watch the sun rise, Dan put his head on Phil’s lap not because he was cold, but simply because he wanted to listen to the slow beat of his heart, and melt into the soft comfort of his enveloping arms.

6. headphone sharing - masterpost

 

i’m sorry

The first time Keith kissed Lance, there was alcohol involved, of course there was. Lance had discovered the somewhat unsafe looking thousands of years old space liquor cabinet underneath the main castle, and had dragged the entire gang there to marvel at his findings. Shiro passed to go pace around and think about something deep and meaningful, and after a couple of bottles of space wine Pidge was passed out in the corner and Hunk had wandered off to go eat anything and everything, and it was just the two of them, drunk past any semblance of control. Keith would have jumped out of the ship right them if Lance told him to, he was so far gone. They were lying there on the ground next to each other, fingers just barely touching, courtesy of Lance, and Keith was staring up at the ceiling and all the pretty swirls and patterns in it, completely mesmerized. He’d since forgotten what they were talking about, but he was giggling and so was Lance and they were such a mess, oh, they were a trainwreck. And Keith found himself looking into those perfect blue eyes, the eyes he hated, the eyes he loved, and Lance smiled this big, goofy smile at him, and then their lips were touching and it was like once Keith had gotten a little bit he couldn’t have enough, and they weren’t people, they were pure energy, raw and electric and amazing.

The first time Keith told Lance he loved him, they were alone, and Lance was crying, and Keith’s only thought was that he had to make him feel better, he had to. It was late at night, the time of night when Keith pretended he was sleeping and Pidge held her computer like it was the only thing keeping her alive and Shiro acted like he didn’t have waking nightmares and Hunk snored like a fire engine and Lance thought about how much he missed home. He was awfully sentimental, more than Keith, certainly, more than any of them, except maybe Pidge. That night, Keith was wandering around the castle with dark circles under his eyes and murder on his mind, wishing he could just let himself have one moment of peace. Most of the crew were sleep deprived monsters, and it showed. He wondered how much the rest of them wished they could close their eyes and keep them closed, how many times each night they laid there, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the soft hands of sleep to latch onto them but, of course, they never did. Keith was tired and fed up with everyone and their bullshit, and he half hoped that if he paced up and down the hall enough times he would pass out from exhaustion. He found himself outside Lance’s door, as he did most nights, and he leaned against the wall, listening and wondering if Lance had somehow managed to get those few restful hours he seeked so much, even though he knew he hadn’t. Instead, all he got was sniffling, the sound of someone trying to hide that they’re crying, although Keith didn’t know why – he was far to tired to even think about crying over anything right then. He didn’t want to have to deal with Lance and all his drama and yet, almost against his will, he pushed the door open and sat down next to Lance on the edge of his bed, where he was hunched over like a defeated old man, crying into his hands. Keith didn’t know why – he just wanted to have some peace and quiet, and this was the completely opposite of that –, but he reached out and put a hand around Lance’s shoulder and pulled him close. He let his dejected boyfriend rest his head on his shoulder, and he ran a hand through his hair in an effort to calm him down, to calm both of them down.

“It’ll be okay,” he assured Lance, even though he had no idea what he was sad over, and even though they both knew it probably wouldn’t be okay. And then he spoke, those three words he’d thought over and over but never said, that burned away at his mind and heart and invaded his thoughts when he needed them least. “I love you.”

The last time Keith kissed Lance, he was in a state of panic, the walls were closing in, his breaths were erratic, jarring. He couldn’t hear anything but the rush of blood in his ears, tears streaming down his face as his lips brushed Lance’s against and again, cold, pointless, unnecessary. He pumped on his chest even though he knew it was hopeless, counting numbers he had already lost track of through the blood in his mouth, he’d chewed away at the skin on his cheeks without realizing it. It was pointless, this was pointless, everything was pointless, oh god, oh god, he couldn’t breathe. Every bit of air tasted like poison, the rising and falling of his lungs ached in his chest, this wasn’t his air this was Lance’s. He was falling, he was losing him, he was gone, he was gone, Lance was gone, why was he still doing this? Why did he still think that if he tried hard enough, he could bring him back?

The last time Keith told Lance he loved him, it was a struggle just to open his mouth and say those words. Because he was holding Lance against him and everything was the same: his hair, his jacket, it was Lance, his Lance, but behind that jacket there was no heartbeat, the body was getting cold and even Keith couldn’t stop it. Lance would never smile again, he would never laugh so hard that Keith had to join in, he would never act like an idiot just because he could. And he would never hear what Keith was trying to tell him, he would never understand those last few words that might as well have stayed left unspoken.

“I love you.”

Every word, every syllable, every letter ached, and the hole in Keith’s chest grew larger, and he doubted it would ever close.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

anonymous asked:

What does horse solitary mean?? I saw you say something about it earlier but I don't understand, sorry. :(

it’s actually not called horse solitary but something “card jockey” i think and it’s a game that was presented at nintendo’s direct today, i was just joking about it because the most were expecting or at least hoping for them to present a cool new game and then they showed us cute little horses with card games… it just made me laugh. so hard.