ts-sideblog

Remus: Yeah, whenever I’m near someone I have a crush on i start acting stupid.

Logan: I don’t get it, you’re always acting stupid?

Beach episode?

Please click for better quality.

Okay but that was too cute not to draw

Kind of. 

It wasn’t a sinkhole or anything, so the world wasn’t literally caving in, but the cracks in the pavement all traced back to one spot, like the eye on an asphalt map of a spidering hurricane; a withered tree loomed overhead, with leaves that crumbled to pieces before they hit the ground and black bark crawling its way upwards in a seemingly endless death march. Settled right next to an abandoned storefront with mottled paint and a collapsed roof, the scenery wasn’t exactly inviting, and its emptiness made the world seem almost paused - if you laid right in the middle of the cracks and stared up at the tree’s drooping branch, it felt like the world was actually caving in. 

Remus had swallowed a couple leaves on accident while laying there, but overall, it was a pretty peaceful pastime. It also gave him a good place to go and be angry at the world. He could tolerate a few leaves in his digestive system for that. 

Here, he had space. He had a noisy quiet, the buzz of cicadas and rushing cars and his fingers tapping on the pavement to fill his focus. Here, under the tree and on top of the cracks, the urges to kick things and scream into a void and squeeze his eyes shut for hours until his face hurt and the rushing thoughts in his head made no more sense than when he started - all that fizzled into the limbo of the parking lot.  Here, he didn’t feel… calmer, really, but like he could tolerate the frenzy a little easier. 

Another car zipped past, wheels screeching. Remus thought about what he must look like to them, a boy just laying on the pavement. They would look out their car window for a second, spot him on the ground and feel a small spike of concern, and then they would be gone down the road forever. He would be a moment of worry in their lives for a split second, and then they would forget him. He kind of liked the idea, kind of didn’t - he could do whatever he wanted, because he would be a fading figure in their memories soon, but he’d had enough of being a simple inconvenience a long time ago. 

Another leaf fell onto his face. He blew it back up into the air and watched it drift to the road, then watched it get run over. He couldn’t recall what color it had been. 

Another wave of something urgent ran over him then, like a car in his chest; he took a deep breath and blew harder, filling the space around him with whatever it was, watching it mingle with the wind and push more leaves off the tree. He’d given up on naming the feelings a long time ago, right after everyone else gave up on trying to understand them (and him). They were sharp, and heavy, and they beat against his head and chest, fighting to escape however they could - he used to act on them like it would make them go away, impulsive and futile - but without a name, they were just a passing nuisance, haltingly acknowledged but ultimately ignored. He wondered a lot if his parents regretted giving him a name. 

He grabbed a fallen leaf and ground it into the pavement, sprinkling the tiny pieces into a nearby crack. The loose asphalt bit into his cheek, but he didn’t mind; it was a nice reminder, sometimes, that he was real. That he was a living, breathing human being, who deserved feeling and time and attention and understanding, even when asphalt left marks on his face, or when the things inside him weren’t pretty and simple and familiar, or when he felt so angry at the world for letting him exist as he did without explanation. 

But then again, the world was caving in beneath him, and he guessed none of that really mattered when you were laying right in the center of disaster. That was the appeal of this place to him, if he was being honest - anything that crossed his mind here was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. He could be angry and lonely and righteous all he wanted, and no one could condemn it, even himself, because the cracks underneath him would spread eventually, and the nameless burdens would be swallowed up right along with him. 

He was so angry with this world. But it didn’t care; it held him up with the cracked pavement and said, “You are who you are, with all your broken pieces inside you,” and left him with that, with only the promise of the cracked ground beneath him as apology.

He didn’t know what to do with the broken pieces, how to name them or put them back together. How to make everyone try again despite them. He didn’t know what to do with himself. 

Pocket Sides 5/9: Janus

So maybe you want somebody as dark as Remus but not as messy? How about Pocket Janus?

Marks and Rec: Misc #2088

He’s sneaky😏

Patton always finds somewhere to squeeze himself into and calls out to Virgil so he can come find him. After the first few times, it became a ritual for them.