Call me Squish || ae/aer || kotlc writer and occasional artist || go follow my main @squishmallow36 for all my brain's ramblings || this /should/ just be art and fic storage || not sure if I'll post from here or rb from my main to here. We'll see. || squishmallow36 on Ao3 || If my Creative Writing teacher finds this, Mr. B, I promise I didn't steal my stories from this acc. I'm crossposting them here. || Pfp by the wondaerful @dizzners
I'm using this as a storage medium for any and all fics and art that I've accumulated because the current system is pretty much nonexistent and I was visited by a vision of organization late at night. So this was my fun activity the next day.
Tagging system
#ship: [ship name]
This refers to the main ship of the piece. I'm not going to try to tag every alternate name that exists for it, so, for example, "#ship: detz" isn't likely to get results but "#ship: fedex" should. Please don't try to search with the brackets included. It might go badly.
#series: [an (un)official title I've given it]
I figured this might be helpful for finding instances of a specific fic series. I abbreviated most of them beyond comprehension but I'm not going back through it. Also includes art that I made to go along with some of them.
Series include: kotlp (keeper of the lost prepositions), fvastm (fitz vacker and the secret museum), oneshot (anything that isn't a series), tlc au (the lunar chronicles au), sokeefitz: the gathering (exactly what it sounds like) and the garvar fic tm (you're all I wish to hear tonight, and you're all i wish to be, and this is how we all fall)
#character: [the character's first name...usually]
This is art-specific because I started doing it after I had already rbed over all the fics and I don't want to go through them. It's mostly because the tags were looking sparse but it could be helpful for the single person portraiture.
#kotlc fanart or #kotlc fanfic
This delineates both fandom (kotlc because of course it's kotlc) and the medium. Maybe you want to spam reblog all of my fanart. I don't know why you'd want to do that, but this makes that possible.
Let me know if you want to be added/removed from my taglist. This will likely expose you to multiple eye crimes but hey. Eye crimes are fun.
Want a line from one of my wips? Send me a 🐼. Or if you don't have emojis on a laptop or whatever *panda emoji* also works. I'll get the idea.
If, hypothetically, you wanted to use any of my works for the recursive exchange (or just, like, in general): have fun! Just please credit and tag me :) Anything on @squish36-writes-and-draws, @squishmallow36, or Ao3 (squishmallow36) is fair game.
Happy Fedex Week 2026 day 7: Free day! I genuinely didn't know if I would finish this in time but here it is!
Word count: 39, 782
Summary: What if Fitz never realized Sophie was an elf that day in the museum? What if instead he had to ask Dex and his people-finding skills to help him find the Moonlark?
TW: Underage Sex, Swearing, Death Threats (of varying levels of being a joke), Kidnapping
Posted on Ao3 because tumblr did not like it when I pasted it all in under the cut as usual
Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed! I know it's been a While): @stellar-lune @faggot-friday @kamikothe1and0nly @nyxpixels @florida-preposterously @poppinspop @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @corruption-exe @seeker-in-ruins @when-wax-wings-melt @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @hi-imgrapes @callum-hunt-is-bisexual @callas-pancake-tree @hi-my-name-is-awesome @katniss-elizabeth-chase @sillyguy-supreme @thefoxysnake @olivedumdum @cutebisexualmess
And, of course: @fedexweek26. Thank you for giving me motivation to actually finish this thing.
Hi @purplesoup-lad-le, I was your secret santa! Big thanks to @song-tam for hosting this!!
While I was writing, I was visited by a vision of some art to go with it and oops my hand slipped--
I have been mentally calling it POV: Dex (someone send help) The background is probably wildly inaccurate because I used references on like two pages and then just didn't for the rest so don't use it like it's an academic source. Anyway, moving on to the reason we're all here, the fic:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Word count: 7.8k (it was supposed to be 5k...)
TW: A quick little silly remark about eugenics, some minor Fitz trauma flashbacks
Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @faggot-friday @kamikothe1and0nly @nyxpixels @florida-preposterously
Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak
This time, Keefe is frolicking through the streets of Florence. Which is to say, he’s sat on a street corner the entire time looking sad. He hasn’t even gone exploring the tourist traps, and it’s not like those are difficult to find. He’s literally two blocks away from some big giant dome building that probably has a horribly fancy name based on the sheer vibes it gives off.
He just sits there. It is difficult to know how to feel about this development as it is of his own doing, but it is understandable why he came to the conclusion he did. It is an incorrect conclusion, but still a reasonable one. Gisela has this whole shadowflux magic thing to keep tabs on him, but the delay is still a bit annoying. There is a nonzero chance that he chooses to leap to a new icty and throw himself in front of a bus before the alarm goes off, and he is increasingly looking like that may occur.
This would be a tad bit unfortunate for scientific research purposes. Rerunning the experiment would be quite a hassle. Then again, a sample size of one is almost worthless in the larger picture.
Enough waxing poetic about the pointlessness of even bothering to write down these records. It is not as though it will be useful at any future point in time, and yet it is still a task to be completed. And, as such, it shall be completed.
It seems as though yet another human has taken an interest in Keefe. What reason she may have is as of yet unknown, but considering how this has played out twice in the last three weeks, it is not difficult to see how it might go. That, of course, is presuming that Keefe and Florent’s dynamic was of a romantic nature, which is currently still up for debate. It would, however, not be particularly surprising if it were, given the available evidence and Keefe’s marked tendency to disregard elvin cultural norms when it is convenient for him.
This new human has not revealed her name quite yet, which makes transcription more difficult, but anyone who is willing to walk up to Keefe and nearly get into a fistfight is worthy of a modicum of respect. Unfortunately, the speakers are not of the greatest quality, and the topic of the argument currently remains undetermined, but knowing Keefe, it was probably something incredibly inconsequential.
The only audio that was able to be parsed was the human, after roundly winning the fight, asking Keefe if, “You want to go get some coffee?”
Keefe refused this offer. It is unclear whether this is to avoid personal attachments or because he was trying to protect his own ego. Both may have played a role in his decision. It is quite likely that Keefe will be filling out a diary entry directly based on this event, which may have more information to provide further insight into these events, as soon as it is within the field of view.
Keefe Sencen's Journal
It is quite often that I am taken aback by beautiful people and, in doing so, I start the stupidest arguments to ever occur. Case in point: I had a fun time trying to defend my opinion that Stracciatella is the only gelato flavour to exist. I no longer acknowledge the existence of any others.
Anyway it’s my luck that I managed to find Lodo, who is apparently just as determined as I am to cause problems on purpose.
And, to top it all off, they asked me out afterwards. Like I have the emotional bandwidth for that. I really did want to accept their proposal though. It would’ve been absolutely lovely. We would’ve gotten into so many pointless fights.
They’re also just unfairly pretty. I do level that criticism against most everyone, but that does mean it still applies. I hope I never see them again. I may be a stubborn bastard, but I am also so bad at sticking to decisions I've made when the other option would be far stupider and far, far more entertaining.
I’ll be fine. I’ll figure it out.
I think I just want to make myself feel something again, even if that something is hopeless longing for a relationship I’ll never be able to attain in the way I want it. It’s been a long few days.
Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak
Dear journal, I know it’s tacky and pathetic to be speaking to you this directly, but you need to promise that you’re not going to tell anyone of these pages. If you for some reason find yourself in anyone else’s hands, figure out how to spontaneously combust.
I was wandering the streets as usual, and I found myself gazing up at Brunelleschi’s Dome, attached to the Cattedrale de Santa Maria del Fiore. I wondered just how difficult it would be to sneak in there and how long it would take me, falling from the highest floor, to hit the ground.
I would just remove myself from the equation. My mother can’t use me as a pawn in her little game if I’m dead.
I would never drag anyone else into this mess along with me again.
Even now, as I write this, I keep thinking of digging this pen into my fingers until I can feel something, anything that isn’t simply my brain telling me that it would be easier, better, even, if I were to just end myself here.
It’s not that I want to die. It’s that it’s the best option after a string of horrible decisions followed by horrible decisions. Everything I’ve ever done, I’ve fucked up beyond repair. Anyone that knows me knows that I’ve run off to a random place in the Forbidden Cities.
It would be so, so easy to just disappear permanently and I can’t think of a single reason that not killing myself would bring a measurable benefit to anything.
If I do end up never writing in here again, you can assume that I’m dead. In that case, I want a few things to be known. I’m pan. I didn’t know that was something someone could even be until barely a week ago, but there’s no words for how right it feels.
It’s also the reason that I have to let Taylor, Florent, and, yes, Sophie know that I love them. I didn’t know it was possible to love more than one person at once and maybe that’s just another thing that’s wrong with me, but that’s all I know. You all deserve so much more than me and I wish you well on your future endeavours. I hope it improves from here. The bar is not set very high. Please forget me. I can’t ask you to forgive me, because I can never forgive myself, but I don’t want you to think about the pain I know I caused all three of you time and time again.
Fitz, I’m sorry I was such a shitty best friend for so long. Maybe if I hadn’t been caught up with staring at you any time we were in the same room, I would have seen just how badly you were spiralling and that your life wasn’t as perfect as I always imagined it being.
Tam, you’re going to be pissed with me no matter what I say. Please try to be there for Sophie the way I never could. Also the reason I made fun of your bangs is because they made my heart stop with every glint of sun they reflected and I never figured out how to process that in a healthy way.
Dex, I’m sorry for tearing your family apart. I never wanted to do that, but that doesn’t mean it’s not my fault. Keep on causing problems for me, I know you’ve always been a better executor of plans than I could ever hope to be. Fitz has some ideas if you’re willing to tolerate his presence. He might need some support, even if he doesn’t want to admit that out loud. I’m not telling you to go deal with all of his problems, I’m just suggesting that maybe he’s not having such a great time after the whole Alvar thing. It might be worth worrying that he’s going to get mad at everyone and that’s an unpleasant Fitz to be around. Deal with this as you see fit.
After an extensive review of the evidence, I’m simply an irreconcilable failure and there are times I wish I never existed. It would have been so much simpler if I had never existed. And yet, here I am, waxing poetic about wanting this all to end instead of actually getting up and doing it. I don’t want to die. It’s just making the best of a bad situation.
Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak
I once loved a carpenter who carved a smile for me
Sanded my rough edges, crafted new and lovely things
But now my love is gone
And I can't help the fracturing
Keefe Sencen's Journal
I can’t help but think that I’ve made the worst decision of my life. I kind of wish Florent would hate me. Maybe then I wouldn’t hate myself quite so much, but he just has to be gracious about me showing up in his life and carpet bombing the everloving shit out of it. I can’t do this again. I know I said that last time, but I can’t implicate anyone else in this mess. I’ve done enough damage.
I think my mother just can’t stand the idea of me even approaching some semblance of happiness. She gives me just long enough to have me throw myself at the feet of a gorgeous, wonderful person only to rip them away from me at the first chance. It’s my fault if I keep playing this game.
Just shove my emotions in a little box and then I don’t have to deal with any of this anymore. Embrace the change. I’ve found myself here in Florence now—I can just eat gelato until reality becomes more of a vague suggestion than rigid rules of the universe. I don’t need emotions when all they do is lead me to ruin.
I’ve barely been away from Florent for an entire day and I already feel the numbness creeping in on the edges of my periphery. Even my skin, so used to waiting for emotional input, is less sensitive than it used to be. I cannot feel emotions radiating through the air, even as I try.
That’s for the best. Maybe if I’m not subject to an overwhelming avalanche of feelings from the outside world, I’ll be less prone to experiencing an internal one. Maybe I’ll even be so useless to my mother’s evil schemes that I can go back to the Lost Cities and I won’t have to contend with any of this anymore. I can pretend like this was an extensive, exhausting dream and nothing more.
What am I saying? I’ll never forget Florent and Taylor. I hope, above all else, they both learn to hate me, if they remember me at all. It’s easier than the alternative. I have to be better, for their sake and mine.
Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak
Yesterday had the honour of being another day in which I was ruled solely by the tide of my emotions, and I am all the happier for it. Each day, it’s just a little bit harder to remember reality and pretend that maybe there’s a chance that this could be my life. It can’t, but I want it to be so bad. Reality has to come in and be dull and, uh, realistic. So rude of it, honestly.
And then all of that just fades away when Florent brushes against me and I know he’s just as into me as I am him. How hard would it be, really, to go down into the catacombs and make a little life for ourselves until the world forgets that we even exist?
Nevermind the fact that I was never supposed to get myself involved with anyone in the first place.
To be completely fair, it’s not my fault that he’s so pretty. It’s kind of impossible to not notice. It’d be more concerning if I didn’t.
Transcript of Keefe and Florent Interacting. Again.
How many more times are these two going to have the exact same conversation? We all get it. Plants are things that exist. Nobody fucking cares. Nobody should have to put up with this for so long. The best part is that none of the information is actually retained. It’s great.
Florent asks, “Do you remember what this plant is?” to which Keefe’s response is, of course, absolutely not. It’s a tiny thing sticking out of the ground. That barely even counts as a plant.
Florent sighs, turning towards Keefe with something like affection in his eyes, strangely enough. “That’s a dandelion. There’s quite a few of them around here, if you haven’t noticed.”
Keefe nods, and shows Florent a sketch of a plant. It’s unclear, but it has similar fan-shaped leaves as the pures.
“Remind me that one day soon we need to figure out how to get you to DM a DnD session.”
Keefe shakes his head, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.
“You’d be so good at it, I promise. I’ll start working on finding some victims.”
Keefe smiles, almost laughing before the expression drops from his face as he fixates on a point past the available field of view.
Florent notices this shift, and asks, “You good?”
Keefe weighs his options, most of which are not ideal, before finally saying, “Not here.” His voice is crackly from disuse, and he coughs to clear his throat before leading Florent down an alleyway.
“This is going to be a long story and most of it is not going to make sense.”
“Keefe, whatever it is, it’s okay.” Florent takes Keefe’s hand into his own, his thumb stroking soft circles into his skin.
Keefe flinches at the touch and, presumably, the rush of emotions that it brought with it.
“Where do I even start?” Keefe pauses for a painfully long time. “The relevant information is that the real reason I’m here is because I’m hiding from my mother. That’s why I was in Australia last week, that’s why I don’t exist—well that and the fact that I’m an elf so it’s kind of hard to have human documentation—and that’s definitely not something I should admit to because you’re going to think I’ve completely lost it and—”
Keefe’s sentence is cut off abruptly by Florent pressing his lips against Keefe’s, his free hand moving up to cup Keefe’s cheek.
He pulls away and they spend a long second gazing into one anothers’ eyes.
“Calm down. You’re okay. We’re okay. Now, what do you mean about the elf thing?”
“I don’t really know how to explain it, you know? There’s elves in DnD, right? I don’t know any of the lore so I don’t know how similar we are, but there’s a whole bunch of us elves and our society is kind of a dumpster fire, which is kind of a long story—I sound completely mental, don’t I?”
“A little bit,” Florent admits.
“Okay, proof. What can I do?” Keefe pulls out an Imparter. “This is an imparter—that’s not enough for you. Uh—there’s a random thing that elves can do called blinking and, well—” Keefe flickers in and out of sight for a fraction of a second. “--That’s pretty cool, I guess.”
“Excuse me, what?”
“Blinking? Yeah, that’s just a thing that we can do.” He blinks again just for emphasis.
“Alright, you got me. I trust everything you say implicitly. What can I do to help?”
Keefe, notebook open, begins sketching an elvenoid figure. “If this guy comes up to you, you don’t know me. You don’t know where I am. I don’t exist and have never existed and will never exist.”
“Am I allowed to know who that is? Your brother?”
Keefe lets out a bitter laugh. “He’s one of my mother’s little henchmen. Don’t tell him I called him that. His name is Gethen and he is part of the organisation that my mother runs. Or, at the very least, runs for now. There have been quite a lot of managerial restructuring recently.”
“Is it okay if I give him some plant trivia?’
“Do what you have to do, my daisy. I’m sure he would absolutely hate it because he’s a bad person who doesn’t know how to have fun.”
“You say that like you’ve ever listened to anything I’ve told you about plants.”
“Yes, but that’s because you make my brain stop functioning.”
Florent smiles, and they kiss again. Hitherto this variety of behaviour has been undocumented in elves, and, as such, it is quite interesting from a research standpoint. More investigation is required to find out if this may be a side effect of certain dependent variables.
“I love you,” Keefe whispers. “I want you to know that. I’m—there’s a very good chance that I’ll leave here and never see you again—”
“I could come with you,” Florent interrupts.
“You have a life here.”
“Plants live pretty much everywhere. I have marketable skills.”
“And you have a family. I don’t think they’d like it if you went off gallivanting through the countryside with a guy you met a week ago. Even if they did, you’re still subject to child endangerment laws. It’s not worth upending your entire life over.”
“Then give me your damn phone number.”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“Email address?”
Keefe exhales. “I don’t even know what that is.”
Florent breaks eye contact, focussing hard on their intertwined hands and blinking rapidly.
“I just don’t need you to get tangled into my mess more than you already have. I want you to be safe, above all else. It’s okay if you hate me for barging into your life like this and leaving it a mess. It’s a price I’m willing to pay and, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For a lot of things.”
“I love you too,” Florent whispers. “Come back here when you get a chance, alright? I’ll wait for you.”
Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak
A Script of a Video from Florent's YouTube Channel
Alrighty, everybody. Being that I am chronically on the internet and I expect that you are as well, I take it we’re all familiar with the concept of flower shop AUs. If you aren’t, well, maybe you should preserve your sanity because one second you’re reading a cute little story about these deeply traumatized characters opening up a flower shop together and the next you know way too much about the Omegaverse. Don’t look that up. I don’t need you to be scarred for life too.
Today’s topic isn’t really going to be connected to fanfic, but I needed a way to hook you into the video because let’s be fucking honest, approximately none of you are going to willingly click on a video about the history of plants. You can make your self-inserts have a crisis over the fact that Stegosaurus never saw a flower. It’s very sad. I’m sad.
Where I’d like to start today is with the Great Oxidation Event. It actually killed, like, everything, so it’s kind of significant in the course of Earth’s history. This was over two billion years ago—I better not see Young Earth Creationists in my comment section. Go away. Humans and dinosaurs did not coexist unless you count birds as dinosaurs but then again birds are just government spies so they aren’t real either—but essentially the whole thing with the Great Oxidation Event is that some microbes figured out how to do photosynthesis, realised it was good for making food, and then they pumped so much oxygen into the atmosphere that everything fucking died.
So, uh, that’s why we have oxygen in the atmosphere now, which is kind of a nice thing to have in general, I’d say. The really cool thing is that we have fossils, called stromatolites, of these microbes from that long ago. Like, we have a spotty record of multicellular life, but these biofilms of cyanobacteria managed to survive two billion years. So much has to be missing from the fossil record.
The next stop on our journey is a lot nearer to us. In the Devonian period, which ranged from about 420 million years ago to 360 million years ago, instead of having forests of plants like we’re used to, there were giant fungi, like Prototaxites. I know what you’re thinking and I refuse to comment. The Devonian is also home to what is currently the oldest known tree, Wattesia. Before that, it was Archaeopteris, which definitely isn’t confusing when put next to Archaeopteryx, a genus midway through the transition from dinosaurs to birds that lived during the Jurassic.
The Devonian ended in a mass extinction before giving way to the Carboniferous. Most of the coal that we’re using to cause next mass extinction is from the Carboniferous, mostly because there were a lot of fucking trees. Like, so many trees that by the end of the period the oxygen levels were around 35%, which is quite a lot compared to today’s 21%. Trees were having a good time.
Insects were also having a good time. The increased oxygen levels means that they could get a whole lot bigger and at the same time figured out how to do flight, which is good for them and bad for my mental health. Just to take a couple of examples we have the genus Meganeura, a dragonfly with a wingspan of a meter and the genus Arthropleura, which was a myriapod taller than me.
I am aware that I am short. However, that is still heinous bullshit and I shall not stand for it.
On the arthropod front, there’s a clade of spiders known as the Mesothelae featured in Walking with Monsters and it was the size of a cat. I don’t want to be here anymore. Let us move on to the Permian for about thirty seconds.
In the Permian, everything died. A lot. More than the dinosaur asteroid that I’m sure all of you know about. Plants died a little bit less than most things, but it was still generally not a good time. While we’re here though, I want to talk about Glossopteris. Now, all of you are looking at this and going, “that just looks like a leaf,” and, yeah, it is. But its fossils were used as evidence towards proving tectonic plates, which I think is pretty cool. I’d also like to mention Lepidodendron, which lived during both the Carboniferous and Permian and has been mistaken as being an imprint fossil of a large reptile’s skin. No. It’s just a tree with some funny-looking bark to our modern eyeballs. And, to round off this trifecta, we had conifers first appear during the Permian.
And now let’s jump forward to the Cretaceous. This is the one with most of the dinosaurs you know. As an audience retention strategy, I want you to come up with a list of your ten favourite dinosaurs. Unless you’re a dinosaur aficionado purposely trying to be difficult to invalidate the accuracy of my point, you’re probably going to name at least a couple that are from the Cretaceous.
The Cretaceous is also where angiosperms, flowering plants, went absolutely buck fucking wild. Like, today angiosperms make up 90% of the living plant species on Earth. And you know what else first appeared? Well, technically it’s a flowering plant, so I’ve already covered it but, like, the concept of Earth without grass is completely absurd to my little brain. I’m sure the ecological niche was covered by other things, but the fact that most of human society exists because we domesticated grasses in the form of wheat, corn, and rice and that only appeared during the Cretaceous is not something I want to comprehend.
And that brings us mostly to today. I mean, there was probably an asteroid in there, but I also don’t care very much about the Paleogene. It’s close enough to modern day to not be as interesting as the older periods. It’s just slightly weird. I mean, there was the family Chalicotheriidae, which looks kind of funny, I guess.
What does all of this mean though? Why did I bother doing all of this? Was it so that you could copy and paste what I said into your Flower Shop AU I definitely didn’t cause to start existing at the beginning of this video so you spent the last ten minutes writing instead of watching my shit editing skills? No. It’s because I know too much shit about plants and I need to tell other people about them or I’m going to be even more of a menace to society than I already am.
I also think that it’s important to think about plants in the context of geologic history because so much of the space is taken up by dinosaurs, and that’s kind of a shame. I’m not advocating for less dinosaurs; I just want to highlight that there are other things in the fossil record. There are people who stare at fossilized pollen all day. I’m not going to lie to you—I would sell my soul to do that. That sounds fun. I’d be so good at it, I promise. Let me see the pollen. You can trust me to not eat the rocks.
I definitely haven’t ever tried to eat a rock before.
Anyway—I’d like to thank all the people on Patreon who, for some reason, fund this mess, and if you’d like to join them for whatever reason, link in the description. I don’t know why I bother saying that. You know how YouTube works. You also know that YouTube likes it when you like, subscribe, and leave comments telling me about how I’m obviously wrong about everything ever. Genuinely though, I do appreciate the corrections you guys give me. I’m one guy here and sometimes I say stupid or stupidly worded shit. I can’t wait for the Latin scholars to tell me that I absolutely fucking butchered the scientific names. You all know who you are. In my defence, taxonomy is a dumpster fire and it’s not my fault that I’m treating it like it is. And, finally, I’d like to thank Keefe, who took the time out of his day to stare at me ominously while I was writing this script. I’m not concerned at all.
Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak
Ignore the fact that I haven’t written in this thing recently because I was too lazy to write the past couple of days. Honestly I don’t really know why I bother with it. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to want to go back and relive some of the shit from the past two…? Weeks. Yeah. I think it’s been two weeks now. It feels like it should be more than that. I feel like it would’ve been funny to make a bingo card predicting the wild shit I’d get myself into while I’m here in the Forbidden Cities.
It would also be funny if mother dearest found this thing and immediately regretted all of her life decisions after having to experience my thought patterns about Florent. I also want to take the time to mention that I have had many, many more objectively worse thoughts that I have not given the dignity of being written down. You’re welcome.
So, what’s happened since the last time I bothered to put effort into recording history for the future generations that would surely be interested in my recordings? Uh, well, I accidentally have a boyfriend now. He’s so fucking hot. I can’t even put it into words. I look at him and my brain juices just evaporate. It’s great. I never needed those brain juices anyway.
Ninety percent of our conversation is him infodumping about whatever plant is nearest, and being that I don’t know jack fucking shit about plants so I’m just left grasping for straws with whatever basic facts I have on hand about plants. It turns out, most of those plants do not live in the Forbidden Cities.
This would be fine, except it means Florent thinks that I’m writing my own Lord of the Rings Part 2: Electric Boogaloo with even more worldbuilding than the original. I don’t think I knew any of the words in the previous sentence last week. This is heavily concerning on many levels. I am concerned.
Anyway that means I’ve been drafted to play DnD. I do not know what that implies but apparently I would be good at it. I mean, if it requires making up random bullshit, then maybe I’ve got a chance. I’m very good at spouting nonsense, if I do say so myself.
In other news, the real reason why I sat down to write today, Florent snuck up behind me today. That would not normally be a remarkable event, and normally I would just have the shit scared out of me and then move on with my life, but it made me realise something that I do not want to consciously acknowledge. There’s a reason I’ve been rambling about other shit to avoid talking about this. A week ago, I would’ve felt his emotions behind me, even several meters away. I’m sitting here, staring at people across the street, and even when I try, I can barely feel anything.
I’m going to be real with you, I do not like the implications there. Nerfing my abilities was kind of the whole point, but I’m afraid of being numb. It’s just another way to hurt the people that I care about, and there are already so many ways. I don’t need more, but it’s what has to be done. At least I can still feel for now.
Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak
Fair warning for the content ahead: nobody involved actually knows what is going on in the realm of plants. Agriculture is an immense and difficult topic when one does not give a shit that plants exist. Nevertheless, it is Keefe’s new fixation, though the reasons why remain unclear as of yet.
It started by getting threatened by a gardener and now Keefe is sitting in the dirt while said gardener does his best to work around him. Keefe seems to be quite annoying in this aspect, as he is with most other aspects of life.
Neither of them, however, seem to be angry about this particular arrangement. Further observation is required to ascertain the exact reason as to why. Nonetheless, Keefe is currently attempting to sit against some evergreen bushes that have seen some better days, which appear to be quite prickly as Keefe squirms around in a futile effort to find a comfortable position. This merely results in his being covered in the leaves—needles? The green bits.
Footnote: Research seems to indicate that these plants are more officially known as conifers, but telling the difference between the large clades is difficult without a better resolution. Pines typically have two, three, or five which emanate from the same location on the branch, while spruces and firs have a single one. To tell the difference between them requires the removal of a needle. Spruce leaves have four sides and will roll in one’s fingers while firs have only two, and, thus, will not. There appears to be more, but as that is largely insignificant, good enough will be left alone.
The person that Keefe is bothering is spending most of his time pulling ivy down off the sides of the building. He also seems to be telling Keefe to pull smaller plants out of the ground to keep him busy, but he does not seem to be receptive to this request, instead doing as he is told while he is aware he is being watched before immediately shifting his attention towards the ivy once again. It is quite irritating for everyone involved, to be completely honest.
After an extraordinary length of time that would be at least half of what it actually was if Keefe were not involved, it seems that a sufficient amount of work has been completed—though ivy still remains on the side—as the both of them move on to the next house.
Their dialogue just barely becomes audible over the rustling of the crunchiest leaves ever to fucking exist, spurred on by the lightest breeze ever recorded and yet somehow deafening.
The human translator struggles for a bit longer than usual before it begins recording their mostly one-sided conversation.
The human points at a small plant with a single yellow flower in the mulch where Keefe was probably supposed to remove. “Can you tell me what that one is?”
Keefe opens his notebook to a mostly-blank page, displaying what is apparently the best answer.
“It’s nice to know you aren’t a lost cause.”
Keefe shakes his head, curls barely moving with the sheer amount of dirt he’s gotten into it over the past few days. Most of that was by choice, mind you. Not an hour ago he was waving around one of those same yellow flowers over his head which contributed quite a lot to the collection.
Overall, he is doing surprisingly well compared to the last few days, probably owing to the fact that he has enchanted himself for at least fifteen minutes earlier today solely devoted to watching a worm wriggle around. It seems as though prospects for further testing have not been compromised by the alleged appearance of Gethen at the site, which is promising. It is probable that he will be just as malleable as usual when it comes time for the next phase of the experiment. That should not sound as ominous as it does.
Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak
I, being the nerd you all love me for, spent most of the day reading about the gays™ in the library and uh fun fact: homosexuality has been legal in France since 1791 thanks to it just not being mentioned in the penal code from that year, but apparently that’s pretty early for a human country. I don’t know what year it is but it’s nice to know that I won’t be guillotined for anxiously waiting for the gardener whose name I don’t know to appear once again.
Not knowing people’s names is kind of turning into a theme. We should all wear name tags. Although, I would absolutely change it every day just to fuck with people so maybe that’s not the best idea I’ve ever had. I mean, considering that I’m the architect of the great gulon incident, it is pretty hard to be the best idea I’ve ever had.
I also wandered around Paris for a bit because reading all day would make me a dork and I’m definitely not one of those, right? Right? Anyway I tried to find where Sophie and Dex went on their little excursion and by excursion I, of course, mean kidnapping. Too bad I cannot figure out how French spelling works to save my life.
There’s the memory of how Sophie said it, but my little polyglot brain is apparently unable to figure out whether it’s, like, a direct translation into the Enlightened language or a borrowed word and if it’s the latter case, it’s got no clue how to transcribe it, meaning I get to stand here and not know where I’m going. I just went to the Eiffel Tower for a bit of entertainment instead.
Also did you know that you can’t take pictures of the Eiffel Tower at night (or, at least, you can as long as you don’t admit to anyone that’s what you’ve done) because the lights are copyrighted? That’s my other fun fact of the day. At this rate, I’m going to be impossible to converse with in three to five business days.
Another one, just for the exile of it: a group of otters is called a business. Well, it was a busyness but that’s what you deserve if you’re looking at old spellings of words.
If I don’t get actively threatened by gardening shears tomorrow, I’m probably going to be hopping to another city. I probably should anyway, just to be safe.
There’s no telling how Gethen found me last time—actually, scratch that. He got told to go somewhere, I’m certain. There’s no telling how his commanding officer (most likely mother dearest) found me last time, but I think she underestimates just how annoying I’m willing to be.
Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak
I had a surprisingly not shit day. I mean, I did get threatened by a guy with a pair of very dangerous looking garden shears, but, honestly, that’s nothing compared to the last few days. I’m trying to not think about those last few days and it really isn’t working, so I’ve taken to hyperfocusing on the previously mentioned garden shears incident.
Apparently I scared him by hiding in the bushes trying not to get found because it’s hard to hide when you didn’t bring an obscurer and, as discussed many times before, I don’t have any fucking money.
So, you know, like any rational person, he started yelling at me and I thought for a second that my polyglot thing was broken but it just turns out that it’s a processing speed limitation as a result of barely sleeping for the past week and a half.
As I was blinking away the exhaustion, I found myself looking at his eyebrows, the angry crease accentuated as they move up and down while ye yells at me and —
Fuck.
It’s kind of a great wonder of the world that I hadn't figured this out yet. I am a buffoon of the highest order. No one has ever or will ever buffoon more than I have. It’s almost like a world record, except bad.
Get me a shamkniv. I need to remove my eyeballs. I’m not doing this again.
If you haven’t guessed, dear journal, I may have gotten deeply distracted by another person’s existence once again, and, as such, I cannot fucking deal with this anymore. All logical options point to me just fucking off to another city, but I’m just going to do it again, aren’t I?
This is the neverending cycle that I’m going to throw myself into. Not even a full forty-eight hours in a new city and I’m already doodling in the margins about a guy who, statistically, I’m never going to see again. And even if I do, that’s not happening. I’m not dragging anyone else into this mess.
Who am I fucking kidding? Either I’m going to leave or I’m going to fuck up. Those are the two options. There is no secret third choice where no one gets hurt.
Later: I should probably also muse poetic about the fact that he’s, you know, a guy and how the elves try to pretend like that whole thing doesn’t exist, but we all know what’s going on behind closed doors with the councillors. Also Alden and Quinlin. They think they’re so clever, but, dear stars, they are so completely and absolutely wrong. I don’t think Fitz knows though. That’s going to be a bit of a revelation if he ever finds that one out.
While we’re talking about Fitz, of course I have to reflect on how our friendship has existed over the last insert-number-of-years-here. And, uh, well, shit. Fitz is hot. How dare he? If I ever go back to the Lost Cities and then get rejected by Sophie, I’ll gladly get rejected to the oort cloud by Fitz.
He’d totally fucking murder me while directly quoting the laws governing the Matchmakers. Although, that does sound kinda hot too.
Who said that—?
Maybe I need to turn off my brain for a bit. That sounds nice. Just give it a nice little bath in cerebrospinal fluid. I’m going to try to get some sleep. It’s not going to work, but it’s worth trying, right?
Quick little update: I have burned through my stash of prewritten pages, and now, when I need to write more, I have a cold and a shit ton of school things I should be doing. We're going to be on shaky ground until probably Saturday.
Word Count: 510
TW: Keefe is swearing a lot. Also, general Keefe angst. Self-esteem is in the single digits.
General Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @faggot-friday @kamikothe1and0nly @nyxpixels @florida-preposterously
Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak
I once loved a gardener with his dirt-smudged face and hands
Trimmed my weeds and gave me room to grow my flowers again
But now my love is gone
And I am left here withering
Withering
Keefe Sencen's Journal
I hope you’re happy now, mother dearest.
I hope you know how much you’ve fucked me over.
I should have never even attempted to draw Taylor into this mess. I just—wanted to think that I’d be safe for once in my starsexile life, but that’s too much to ask.
Over the last couple of hours, I’ve bounced around the globe looking for a nice place to go and also trying to figure out how the pathfinder determines coordinates. I’ll probably be working on that instead of actually reflecting on my life tonight because exile I don’t want to think about my life anymore. Absolute dumpster fire of a life right there.
I think I’m in Paris? I can see that famous tower thing but let’s be real when we say that I’ve got no fucking clue where I am or how human society works. It could be some other ostentatious tower just to fuck with me in particular.
Anyway the time zones are really different between Sydney and wherever I am because I left right around dawn, and now it’s sundown. If I thought my sleep schedule was bad enough as it is, it’s about to get so much worse and I’m here for it.
I haven’t had any interactions with humans around here, and if I could, I would definitely try to avoid speaking to anyone about anything ever because we saw how well that went last time. Alas, I don’t trust myself enough for that to not be a possibility.
I’ll probably be bouncing to the next city in a couple of days. Maybe if I pick a new place often enough, no one will be able to find me. Maybe then I can stop hurting everyone around me. It won’t work, but it’s a nice possibility to think about.
I found a nice garden to loiter in for the next couple of days, and in the case that I get bothered by the legal authorities, I can just simply…leave. I could cause so many crimes on purpose. That bank heist plan doesn’t actually sound that unrealistic now that I’m genuinely considering it. I won’t, but it would be funny, and that’s the real measure of success.
You know what else is funny? I don’t, but someone across the street does. It’s much less overwhelming than it used to be and on the one hand, that’s a good thing because I don’t have a constant migraine, but it also means that I’m going to be fucked to exile in another couple of weeks, let alone centuries of this. Who am I kidding? There’s no way I’m making it centuries without Gisela finding me. I just need to hold out long enough that I’m not useful to her little schemes and machinations by the time she comes to collect her little unethical science experiment.
If I can’t solve the problem in its entirety, I’ll settle for being annoying. It’s gotten me this far which isn’t exactly a glowing endorsement, but it’s better than nothing, and that’s all I have.
General Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @faggot-friday @kamikothe1and0nly @nyxpixels @florida-preposterously @poppinspop @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @corruption-exe @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @hi-imgrapes @callum-hunt-is-bisexual @callas-pancake-tree @hi-my-name-is-awesome @katniss-elizabeth-chase @sillyguy-supreme @void-kill @thefoxysnake
Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak @theleopardstalker @you-will-meet-your-downfall @multi-fandom-lunatic
TW: significant Keefe angst. Creator chose not to use archive warnings.
On Ao3 or below the cut!
First (3 November) / Previous / Next
Keefe Sencen's Journal
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
I fucked up.
A lot.
I don’t think I can stay here anymore.
How am I going to tell Taylor? Am I going to tell Taylor? I don’t know if I can I don’t know if I should—all I know is that I fucking saw Gethen across the street and that means that somehow, some way my mother has managed to find me. Was it something I did? Did I get into the newspaper by accident? I know that’s how Fitz found Foster, but why would anyone ever bother to run an article about some random guy who recently started loitering in the park?
I am going to explode.
I don’t know what to do. How the exile did she find me in all these fucking people? No, Keefe, don’t start crying. You don’t have enough handkerchiefs to clean your sinuses out.
If I leave, I’ll never see Taylor again. It’s not like I can just disappear and accept that she’s going to be fine with me being halfway across the planet for potentially years but she’s my everything and I love her so starsexile much and I know it’s irrational but dear stars I can’t do this anymore. Any of it
I should just turn myself in to my mother. I can’t put myself through this again and I know for a fact that I will. It’s just a matter of time, and not even that much of it, considering just how recently I met Taylor.
I’m never going to meet anyone as wonderful as her again. Sure, there might be other people in the world, but she’s perfect which is why it hurts so much to be forced to leave for her own safety. If Gethen knows where I am, it’s just a matter of time before mother dearest uses her against me.
I have to go. I just don’t know if I can.
Maybe my real ability is to just leave a trail of decimated lives in my wake. That’s probably even more useful than the ability detector or command shit and that’s mostly just a consequence of my personality.
I keep playing it over and over in my mind, trying to prove that it isn’t Gethen, but my photographic memory is either being an unreliable narrator or I saw the crescent=shaped scar on his hand. Each iteration I’m less certain, but the possibility means that I’m going to have to go anyway. If nothing else, I need to make sure that Taylor doesn’t get caught up in this any more than she has already. I couldn’t live with myself if she were hurt. Exile, I can already barely live with myself for letting it get this far. You’re so fucking stupid it hurts.
Letter from Keefe to Taylor, left on the chessboard.
You don’t have to forgive me. In fact, it’s probably better if you don’t. I could give you a big long explanation about why I have to leave, but it would raise more questions than answers. I guess I could say that I’m hiding from my parents, but that feels like such an oversimplification that it’s almost worthless. I wish—no, it doesn’t matter what I wish. It’d be great if things were different, but that’s never how my life has chosen to work out.
It was never my intention to show up in your life, fuck over your entire emotional state, and then leave from whence I came, but I can’t see any other way out. If I could, I would take it, but here I am, once again abandoning the people I care about in a last-ditch effort to make sure that they don’t get dragged down this chasm alongside me.
Maybe one day I’ll be back, but I don’t know when that will be and I severely doubt it will be worth it to you to wait until then. I don’t know where I’ll be going next, but it won’t be here. I’ll never forget you, Taylor.
If nothing else, I just need you to know:
I love you. You mean more to me than you could ever know.
General Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @faggot-friday @kamikothe1and0nly @nyxpixels @florida-preposterously @poppinspop @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @corruption-exe @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @hi-imgrapes @callum-hunt-is-bisexual @callas-pancake-tree @hi-my-name-is-awesome @katniss-elizabeth-chase @sillyguy-supreme @void-kill @thefoxysnake
Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak @theleopardstalker @you-will-meet-your-downfall @multi-fandom-lunatic
TW: Unreality, Swearing
On Ao3 or below the cut!
First (3 November) / Previous / Next
Transcript of Keefe and Taylor's interaction
Another day in the park. Keefe and Taylor have got to be some of the most boring people to ever exist. No wonder they’re so infatuated with one another. It is thoroughly disgusting—
Keefe, kindly, what the actual fuck? What do you mean you moved your king on the second turn?
Something is deeply wrong with him and Gisela was right to consider a mind wipe just like Alvar. To be fair, she was hoping to make him more willingly compliant, but it would also fix the fact that something in his brain has been scrambled.
Though that might be a side effect of the experiment. This is what happens when there are no controls and a sample size of 1. Any effect is almost impossible to prove causation from the independent variable. That is to say, all of the data being generated is largely worthless apart from a scientific standpoint.
To absolutely no one’s surprise, Keefe loses very quickly. At this point, he is likely continually trying to find the worst way to play chess every day. He will probably resort to eating his own pieces soon just to lose faster.
You know, there’s a chance that he might just be into losing.
Taylor knocks his king over, and, in the same movement, kisses him across the board. This results in most of the other pieces falling over, as well as Keefe no longer being able to be a functional person. Don’t feel too bad; he wasn’t that functional beforehand. He’ll be just fine.
As Taylor begins to pull away, Keefe whispers, in an unpracticed, gravelly voice. Running this through the human translator reveals it to be, “I love you.”
How cute.
It’s too bad that she’s going to be dead in a hundred years or less.
Taylor, to her credit, does not immediately slap him for making such a bold declaration after a week of not speaking. She does, however, look very uncomfortable. The second-hand embarrassment is quite strong. She makes her excuses and leaves, leaving Keefe halfway between the accomplishment of speaking after avoiding it for so long and wondering if he just fucked everything up irrevocably.
SMS from Taylor to Silas
Taylor: I got you another update
Silas: Spill the tea or I’m going to pour it in your lap
Taylor: Ilys were exchanged
Silas: Bro no
Taylor: Bro yes
Silas: But why though
Taylor: Because I'm a pathetic fuck who makes bad decisions
Silas: I guess that means you two are perfect for each other
Taylor: Ikr
Silas: That was sarcastic
Taylor: Not to me it wasn’t :)
Silas: You are irredeemable. I don’t know why I should try anymore
Taylor: I know. I don’t know how you put up with me
Silas: Me neither
Keefe Sencen's Journal
I don’t have to rip flowers apart anymore at 4 in the morning, it’s official. She loves me. Let’s fucking go.
One might think I would want to praise my unlimited skill, but I don’t think I’ve actually processed any of it yet, even if it has been a couple of hours. I don’t really know what to think, I’m just—happy. It feels like it’s been a long time since I felt this genuinely content with life, if ever.
General Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @faggot-friday @kamikothe1and0nly @nyxpixels @florida-preposterously @poppinspop @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @corruption-exe @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @hi-imgrapes @callum-hunt-is-bisexual @callas-pancake-tree @hi-my-name-is-awesome @katniss-elizabeth-chase @sillyguy-supreme @void-kill @thefoxysnake
Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak @theleopardstalker @you-will-meet-your-downfall @multi-fandom-lunatic
TW: mild references to Keefe being allosexual.
On Ao3 or below the cut!
First (3 November) / Previous / Next
Another day, another date, another lost game of chess. I think tomorrow I’m going to use the bongcloud opening just for the exile of it. Today’s bonus fun fact is that Taylor made me a little crochet butterfly friend, who is now my son Fregor and I will hurt you if you touch a single hair on his perfect little head. I will now forever be in Taylor’s debt, and I am okay with this in exchange for my little guy.
Mrs. Stinkbottom is overall less thrilled with this development. Yeah, I might’ve neglected to consider housing, food, or clothes, but you can bet your ass that I brought Mrs. Stinkbottom. What am I? A heathen? I think not.
Anyway today’s date was dragging me to a movie theater and eating a frankly absurd amount of popcorn, and they will now likely no longer be offering free refills because I think I just caused them to lose hundreds of dollars to my internal food dumpster. I did not have an opportunity to watch the movie for obvious reasons (and, yes, one of them was the popcorn. The other was Taylor.) and, as such, I shall not become a film critic on these very pages. I hope you are not too disappointed.
Well, to be really honest, I don’t fucking care. My parents already think I’m a disappointment and I view that as a life accomplishment, so why do you think I would genuinely care what a fucking diary thinks of my behaviour? Go fuck your pretentious self.
I really can’t think of anything else I want to complain about today but I have got a little something in the works, which, if it works out, I’m going to ascend to another plane of reality. I really should get to actually working on it instead of procrastinating. As I am the king of procrastinating, that is almost insurmountable, but, alas, I am also Lord Hunkyhair, so all shall tremble before my wrath. Farewell, my subjects.
Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak
I am the greatest person to ever exist, and, no, I will not be taking any criticism because you’re clearly not the greatest person to ever exist if you’re judging me.
That’s right—without having any way to act normal or communicate in a method that isn’t painfully slow, ya boi has scored himself a first date. Three years knowing Foster and I’ve nothing to show for it. Three days barely interacting with Taylor? Fuck yeah, baby.
Now, that doesn’t mean that if, in a twist of fate, if Foster just, like, appeared out of the void despite the fact that I explicitly told her not to do that and asked me out, I’d totally fucking say yes. Like, why should I choose? I promise you’d either be best friends or absolutely want to murder each other, but either way, that’d be kinda hot.
Who said that?
Anyway…
I’m not capable of having coherent thoughts at the moment that won’t turn into smut within the next three sentences, which I’m fully aware is a skill issue on my part, but I also, frankly, do not fucking care.
Now that I’m thinking about it, that might just be the empathy numbness starting to set in, which is not something that I want to acknowledge exists as a concept because all I want to do is lie on the floor and maladaptive daydream until someone gets worried that I picked the middle of the street for my floor time.
I should probably also actively worry about the whole “I’m an elf” thing because that’s probably going to be a lot for someone to process, assuming they don’t immediately turn me into the local newspaper and then I get to move to another city so mother dearest doesn’t find me.
Yahoo. Fun times. Can’t wait for Taylor to get kidnapped and used as leverage. I am making so many bad decisions, but let’s be fucking real: that’s never stopped me before and I’m not going to start now.
Later: I have been dragged on a tour of what feels like the entire city (it is not but my feet hurt) and this will go down as the greatest first-but-technically-sort-of-fifth date that has ever and will ever occur. Why, I hear a chorus of you implore. It’s because I was taken to a dark alley and I will not be giving you explicit details because you’re a piece of paper and you don’t have the necessary security clearance, but I will say that my previous entry has narratively paid off successfully.
SMS from Taylor to Silas
Taylor: I had a stupid people moment and now I deserve to be condemned to the second circle of hell
Silas: Hey, it could be worse
There’s like seven worse than that
WAIT THAT’S THE LUST ONE
WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO
Taylor: Nuh uh
All I did was make bad decisions
Silas: These better not be Megan decisions again
Taylor: Worse
Silas: Are they Keefe decisions?
They better not be Keefe decisions
Taylor: …
Silas: I’m going to disown you
Taylor: You’re not my dad
Silas: Yeah that’s because Keefe is now
Taylor: That’s unfair. It was one date.
Silas: and…?
Taylor: A nonzero amount of making out 😔
Silas: What part of the fact that he lives in the park is not an immediate turn off
Taylor: I will get you your damn picture eventually it’s not my fault i was distracted today
Or yesterday
Or any other day in the past, present, or future
Silas: incorrect.
Taylor: What else do you want me to do? Not date the hot guy that seems to like me for some reason? Difficulty level: impossible.
Silas: You have such a bad case of ‘i can fix him’ disease. I’m sorry for you.
Taylor: I do not
Silas: Then how else do you justify buying him food every day?
Taylor: I'm being nice, which is a normal thing to do.
Silas: You are a lost cause
I’ve got math homework to do. I will see you tomorrow and I expect a better report.
