#feltstrange

[diiagnose]

19, 29, 36

50 oddly specific headcanon asks .  //  accepting .

19 .    do they have any distinct voice mannerisms ?    (  e . g . saying ‘  like  ’ or ‘  um  ’ a lot , stutters  )

arden awkwardly laughs a lot . that’s probably his most notable voice mannerism , but he also tends to quickly repeat himself by backtracking a few words & rewording & adding details ? i don’t know how to explain it , so example :    ‘ it’s on , uh , monday-    y’know mon-    monday , the-    the day before tuesday .. haha .. after-    after sunday ! the day , uhm , that is , the day .. the day after sunday . ’    sorta like that . & by that you can see he also tends to say  uh  &  uhm  a lot .

plus he uses a lot of filler words in the sense of  yeah  & just pointless adverbs . another example :    ‘ oh , yeah .. yeah , definitely . that’s .. yeah . TOTALLY . ’

tl;dr :  he’s awkward & has a lot of stammers & vocally - centered awkwardness .

29 .    has your muse ever had a pet ? if so , what type ?

he had a stray cat named paws . he got the name in two different ways .

ONE .    in toy story , there’s a cat mentioned named whiskers . arden thought that was really cute , but he didn’t want to directly steal the name , so he wanted to go with a name centered around a body part ? that had that same feel to it ? so paws worked out perfectly .

TWO .    arden was lying down in the grass when a cat came up & gently rest his paws on arden’s chest , & so the name came from the first thing he ever saw of the cat-    his paws .

36 .    what simple task is your muse surprisingly bad at ?

dancing . you’d think that because of musical ability & rhythm , he’d be decent , but something about it just trips him up so much . as the old saying goes , he has two left feet .

[reluctantseer]

@feltstrange I just googled ian beale and I,

[reluctantseer]

ben vc: more like sleeping horror

       ’ more like leave me alone. ‘ 

[empathreading]

❝ You could have died! You… you scared me to death! ❞

it sure was a meme | @feltstrange

       when you cut your ties with most people and have no friends, you get used to the not caring; the almost dying and knowing it wouldn’t have made much of a difference if you hadn’t made it out. eldon’s gotten used to it over the years even if sometimes he wishes he hasn’t, and maybe he should’ve lied to avoid this because he’s not sure if the sudden concern is terrifying or comforting in a way that’s been foreign for years.

      the absence of a cat by his side and his own gaze wounded as he narrowly misses ben’s stare only reminds him that now he has something, whatever it is, and it makes the concept of dying scary in a way it wasn’t pre-ben. eldon shuffles closer, allowing a hand to curl around ben’s and trying to keep his voice steady as he speaks. his words are soft but it doesn’t mask his fear, or worry.

       ❝ i can look after myself, ben. besides, I always come back – I’ll always come back.  ❞

[empathreading]

‘you wanna be friends forever? i can think of something better.’ he probably wud sing it 2 :/

h.k lyrics | @feltstrange

       it’s been a slow winter, the afternoon sun bright but soft, and eldon’s not all that used to anything other than the californian seasons he grew up with. it’s the kind of weather eldon would describe as somewhere between ‘freezing’ and ‘comfortable’, and maybe it’s not as cold as the below temperatures ben knows but the air’s got a certain chill to it. or, he’s sitting on the couch wearing one of ben’s jumpers and a pair of worn pyjama pants, and, even then, it’s cold enough to warrant a shiver.

       still, ben’s shirt is a little baggy on him and his hair is a mess, and it’s cold but nice. cold enough to be close unlike the too-warm summers’, and nice like eldon’s only half focused on his phone, thoughts too occupied with running a hand through ben’s bed-hair, and kissing, and more kissing. ben sitting on the other side of the couch is almost too distracting for eldon to be able to think about anything else; all freckles and soft hair, and the curl of a smile on his lips.

              ‘ okay, smart guy. why don’t you come here and prove it? ’ 

[reluctantseer]

being miserable is valid !! uwu ✨☀️🌱🌻💕

       "votes just came in for prick of the year-- you won." 

[starpositivity]

@recklessrose​​ sent you some love !

┏┓ ┃┃╱╲ In this ┃╱╱╲╲ house ╱╱╭╮╲╲ we love ▔▏┗┛▕▔ & appreciate ╱▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔╲            @feltstrange ╱╱┏┳┓╭╮┏┳┓ ╲╲ ▔▏┗┻┛┃┃┗┻┛▕▔

[empathreading]

"I said I’m not crying."

idk it’s late | @feltstrange

       eldon realises, halfway between driving to ben’s place and now, standing small in the empty space of ben’s apartment, that tonight ben had a date. there’s something soft and warm about the open windows, the chill of a late spring night replacing the heat of ben’s kitchen with a conflicting breeze, and the bright candle burning itself to its end next to the sink. it’s not like ben can’t afford electricity, and as far as eldon can tell, there’s no real reason to have it there when ben’s bedroom light is bright and spilling through a half-open door, and the kitchen light switch is so close he could reach out and touch it. tonight was date night, eldon realises, hovering awkwardly and loudly (he has always existed too much, he knows), and trying to ignore the strain in ben’s voice when he speaks.

        ‘stood up’ are not words eldon’s familiar with; it’s not like he dates or bothers to meet boys, but he’s no stranger to being alone. eldon jokes, harmlessly, and mostly when they’re watching movies and he can pretend ben didn’t hear him if he doesn’t reply, that if ben’s still single by the time he’s middle-aged, they should get married. eldon spends too much time focused on ben’s ‘maybe’, tucked between a smile and an amused glance, and realises that there is no possible way someone couldn’t fall in love with him. maybe, eldon likes the idea of it being him. maybe, he knows ben is too good and pretty to end up alone and cold with no one but eldon. the eldon of yesterday lived for that first maybe, and the eldon of now knows even in this state, and in this light, ben is too beautiful to end up with nothing but a boy for a back-up plan.

       “dance with me?” he asks, voice rough and choked, with a hand reaching out towards ben. it doesn’t mean anything, he knows, that a faltering smile appears for longer than a second, and that ben’s hand is cold and familiar in his. eldon can’t promise he’ll always be here, like ben can’t promise he will always want eldon around, but for now it doesn’t matter. ben laughs, not forced but still hurt, in eldon’s ear and his grip tightens for the second it takes to make a joke back, and it still doesn’t matter. what matters, now and not later when eldon is too busy thinking to sleep, is that eldon knows all about being alone and it is too painful a concept to consider; them, together as friends but lonely for all their lives. 

       eldon speaks into the fabric of ben’s shirt; his voice is muffled and quiet but the message clear. ‘you deserve so much better than this.’