u/Least_Candle_9602

Chapter one just got posted!

It's a series of short vignettes about Nico being addicted to shadow travel. I'll post one Vignette every day until it's done!

More specific warnings in the fic tags!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/90657926/chapters/241122266

I've just written a series of vignettes about a sort of addiction in a way, where a character has shadow powers and gets addicted to the feeling of being in between places in the shadows, and then the shadows swallow him, and he becomes a part of them. Then, *blech* he starts reaching out to his boyfriend to try to draw him in too. . .

I feel so uncomfortable rn lmao.

I'M THE ONE WHO WROTE THIS

anyway, do y'all ever do this to yourselves?

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One-shot soulmate AU:

Fred and Lee are soulmates, but Fred never knew he was gay. It's harder to accept when you don't see it coming. Now...is it too late? Does he still deserve his soulmate after making him wait so long?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/88822096

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Brother,

Oh you, you’re the reason I’m alive. The reason I survived.

For more reasons than just that night. You recognized me. We talked, what? Once? And then you said hi. Again. Again. And again. 

Because of you I met that circle there. 

All those wonderful people. 

All a little twisted like me. 

All of them could relate. 

None of them made me feel alone. 

I told you my troubles. 

I told you my joys. 

I told you my fears. 

At the end of it I’d begun to think of you as a brother of sorts, especially when my real one was breaking my heart.

You said it first, didn’t you? “I’ve always thought of you as my little sister, and a good friend too.” 

I thought of you the same. 

You cared, I thought. 

You got me through hard times. 

I wonder if you know that.

I wonder if you still think of me, or if we were all just a pastime you got over.

I used to resent you for it, for leaving. For the way you did it. That wasn’t fair, though, we all had to get out of there sometime. Best to cut ties, clean and simple. 

That’s what I should have done. 

I couldn’t though.

That place does tie you up. Drama, friendships, relationships, curiosity. You don’t want to leave, you can’t miss out, you can’t lose that thing that feels real, that feels exciting that feels alive. 

It’s addictive. 

Being a part of it. 

Being a part of something so small that you’re known. 

That everyone knows you. 

For better or for worse. 

I was always so curious, so excited about it.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Or it tried to.

I stayed longer than I should have. 

Because of him. You brought me to him in a way. He was your best friend and I talked to him when you were there. 

At first. 

Then it broke down and we all gathered in that little circle. 

Okay fine, not all, just most. That’s when it all really changed.

I talked to him even when I wasn’t really…talking to him. I knew him better. 

When it came back up I said hi and I got locked in a conversation with him. Two hours, did you know that? Probably, he told you everything. 

I miss you sometimes. 

I forget what it was like to talk to you. 

I hardly remember anything from that time. I don’t remember the way you talked or the jokes you made, just that you had butterfly earrings…or were they roses?

Sometimes I wish I could go back to that time. 

Even if you guys were the only good part of it. 

Even if you guys were all I had. 

I miss you. 

Does that make sense? Probably not. 

It was a terrible time. It was toxic, outside of our circle. Gosh I can’t even remember how many times I cried because of that. 

I was so…unconnected then. I dated but I hardly felt for any of them. You guys were what tethered me. It only hurt when I lost you. 

I still can’t believe the way you left. You were always so kind. 

Until that day. 

Not your friend? 

I try not to be angry, I do, really, but not your friend? 

You said it yourself. You said I helped you get through things you never thought you could. 

And I’m not your friend? 

I’m sorry the screen made it seem too far? Too superficial. 

I shared my heart with you a million times. The pain, the sorrow. 

My family. 

Not the obvious stuff. Not just the things we joke about for all to hear. Not just the aunt who can’t take responsibility, or the grandpa who can’t see past his ego. 

More than that. 

My mother. How I wanted to feel heard. 

I told you that. 

I don’t tell anyone that. 

I can’t remember the last time I even typed that out. Wrote that down. Months, years? Could be anything. 

Could be when I told you. 

It makes me angry. 

Seeing red. I know what that means because of you. 

It did hurt at first. I wasn’t angry immediately…just…sad. 

I asked him if it was really you. Begged reality, to please tell me it wasn’t you. 

Then I cried. 

I read it, and cried, and read it again. 

Then I stopped crying.

Then I got angry. 

It’s been enough time now, though, I’ve gotten over it, almost. Nearly. Enough, at least, that it doesn’t hurt anymore. 

I wonder if you hurt us on purpose. 

I remember when I first saw it I thought it was a troll. It wasn’t really you who wrote that, it couldn’t be. Because you were kind. You showed compassion. 

Maybe you thought hurting us would make it easier for us to go too. 

If that was the case I want you to know that you failed. You failed miserably because I never got up the nerve to leave. 

I think I choose to believe that. Even if I know it’s not true.

I still go sometimes. 

I went today. 

I don’t know anyone anymore. New people, new cycle. New circles I’m not a part of. 

Like before. 

Except this time you’re not there to draw me in. 

I go because I hope I’ll see him. 

I know I won’t. The last of us are gone. I can’t imagine he still goes. 

Maybe one day? 

Oh, you’d call me crazy, obsessed. Tell me to move on. You’re right of course I should move on. But he lives in my heart now. 

Not a parasite.

Just there. 

That’s why I write this to you. You and him are connected. Always connected. I can’t forget you. Not unless I forget him. 

I can’t forget him. 

So I keep you in my heart, and every once and a while I think of that message. 

I’m glad I didn’t save it. 

I don’t think I’d be able to survive reading those words a hundred times. 

Maybe I could though. It’d make me think of you. That night, somehow I ended up laughing. Laughing. Really. 2am done with life and laughing. 

You saved me. 

I don’t think you like to hear that, that you saved my life. You did though, didn’t you?

Anyone could have, that’s true. 

But you’re the one who did. 

My big brother. 

I love you.

I’m sorry I wasn’t enough to stay. 

But I’m happy too. 

You deserved to escape. 

Goodbye. 

Brother,

Oh you, you’re the reason I’m alive. The reason I survived.

For more reasons than just that night. You recognized me. We talked, what? Once? And then you said hi. Again. Again. And again. 

Because of you I met that circle there. 

All those wonderful people. 

All a little twisted like me. 

All of them could relate. 

None of them made me feel alone. 

I told you my troubles. 

I told you my joys. 

I told you my fears. 

At the end of it I’d begun to think of you as a brother of sorts, especially when my real one was breaking my heart.

You said it first, didn’t you? “I’ve always thought of you as my little sister, and a good friend too.” 

I thought of you the same. 

You cared, I thought. 

You got me through hard times. 

I wonder if you know that.

I wonder if you still think of me, or if we were all just a pastime you got over.

I used to resent you for it, for leaving. For the way you did it. That wasn’t fair, though, we all had to get out of there sometime. Best to cut ties, clean and simple. 

That’s what I should have done. 

I couldn’t though.

That place does tie you up. Drama, friendships, relationships, curiosity. You don’t want to leave, you can’t miss out, you can’t lose that thing that feels real, that feels exciting that feels alive. 

It’s addictive. 

Being a part of it. 

Being a part of something so small that you’re known. 

That everyone knows you. 

For better or for worse. 

I was always so curious, so excited about it.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Or it tried to.

I stayed longer than I should have. 

Because of him. You brought me to him in a way. He was your best friend and I talked to him when you were there. 

At first. 

Then it broke down and we all gathered in that little circle. 

Okay fine, not all, just most. That’s when it all really changed.

I talked to him even when I wasn’t really…talking to him. I knew him better. 

When it came back up I said hi and I got locked in a conversation with him. Two hours, did you know that? Probably, he told you everything. 

I miss you sometimes. 

I forget what it was like to talk to you. 

I hardly remember anything from that time. I don’t remember the way you talked or the jokes you made, just that you had butterfly earrings…or were they roses?

Sometimes I wish I could go back to that time. 

Even if you guys were the only good part of it. 

Even if you guys were all I had. 

I miss you. 

Does that make sense? Probably not. 

It was a terrible time. It was toxic, outside of our circle. Gosh I can’t even remember how many times I cried because of that. 

I was so…unconnected then. I dated but I hardly felt for any of them. You guys were what tethered me. It only hurt when I lost you. 

I still can’t believe the way you left. You were always so kind. 

Until that day. 

Not your friend? 

I try not to be angry, I do, really, but not your friend? 

You said it yourself. You said I helped you get through things you never thought you could. 

And I’m not your friend? 

I’m sorry the screen made it seem too far? Too superficial. 

I shared my heart with you a million times. The pain, the sorrow. 

My family. 

Not the obvious stuff. Not just the things we joke about for all to hear. Not just the aunt who can’t take responsibility, or the grandpa who can’t see past his ego. 

More than that. 

My mother. How I wanted to feel heard. 

I told you that. 

I don’t tell anyone that. 

I can’t remember the last time I even typed that out. Wrote that down. Months, years? Could be anything. 

Could be when I told you. 

It makes me angry. 

Seeing red. I know what that means because of you. 

It did hurt at first. I wasn’t angry immediately…just…sad. 

I asked him if it was really you. Begged reality, to please tell me it wasn’t you. 

Then I cried. 

I read it, and cried, and read it again. 

Then I stopped crying.

Then I got angry. 

It’s been enough time now, though, I’ve gotten over it, almost. Nearly. Enough, at least, that it doesn’t hurt anymore. 

I wonder if you hurt us on purpose. 

I remember when I first saw it I thought it was a troll. It wasn’t really you who wrote that, it couldn’t be. Because you were kind. You showed compassion. 

Maybe you thought hurting us would make it easier for us to go too. 

If that was the case I want you to know that you failed. You failed miserably because I never got up the nerve to leave. 

I think I choose to believe that. Even if I know it’s not true.

I still go sometimes. 

I went today. 

I don’t know anyone anymore. New people, new cycle. New circles I’m not a part of. 

Like before. 

Except this time you’re not there to draw me in. 

I go because I hope I’ll see him. 

I know I won’t. The last of us are gone. I can’t imagine he still goes. 

Maybe one day? 

Oh, you’d call me crazy, obsessed. Tell me to move on. You’re right of course I should move on. But he lives in my heart now. 

Not a parasite.

Just there. 

That’s why I write this to you. You and him are connected. Always connected. I can’t forget you. Not unless I forget him. 

I can’t forget him. 

So I keep you in my heart, and every once and a while I think of that message. 

I’m glad I didn’t save it. 

I don’t think I’d be able to survive reading those words a hundred times. 

Maybe I could though. It’d make me think of you. That night, somehow I ended up laughing. Laughing. Really. 2am done with life and laughing. 

You saved me. 

I don’t think you like to hear that, that you saved my life. You did though, didn’t you?

Anyone could have, that’s true. 

But you’re the one who did. 

My big brother. 

I love you.

I’m sorry I wasn’t enough to stay. 

But I’m happy too. 

You deserved to escape. 

Goodbye. 

Dear friend,

Do soulmates exist? 

I’d like to think so, one in a million. No, one in a billion.

Scratch that. 

One in forever. 

That was you to me 

I can’t imagine another. 

But you? You’re gone, lost somewhere in time, in space, on earth, america, ohio. 

I wish you could show up on my doorstep, tell me you missed me, tell me you love me, that you did all along.

But that’s the thing about unrequited love. 

You won’t do that. 

Even if you could, I’m probably a faint glimmer. A memory, not a longing. 

I miss you. 

Do you care? No, no you don’t. 

I have to believe that. I don’t think I could live believing you’re out there missing me too. Looking out windows at tornados like the idiot you are, and thinking of me. Me telling you that you’re an idiot, and I don’t want you to die. 

Death, isn’t that a silly thing? 

I don’t even know if you’re alive. You could have been hit by a bus, and I wouldn’t know. 

I never got to tell you how my show went, that I lost my voice and couldn’t sing my part for the first two. 

That I made friends that didn’t last beyond the final performance. 

That I wish you could have seen it, because then I’d get to see you. 

Space is a fickle thing. There was always so much space between us, and yet we were so close. 

Distance doesn’t matter when it’s true. 

Distance didn’t matter with you. 

I wish I had your address, that I could write this on a piece of paper, with the multicolored pen that can only make me think of you, slide it into an envelope and send it on its way. 

To you. 

Always to you. 

I wish you could be my destination, that the end of the road led to you, but how could it be possible?

I wish I could reject the principles of logic and think that we’ll meet one day, I’ll recognize you, or you me, from a single picture exchanged when we were quite young. 

My heart does think it sometimes, that fate will play a hand, that if soulmates are true then you are mine and I’m bound to find you. 

You you you. 

Sometimes it’s all I can think of at night when I close my eyes. 

I slip into the old fantasies where one day we meet. 

The ones where he was there. 

But that wouldn’t matter, because we’d be there together, and I wouldn’t be Blue, or all the other names I pretended I was back then. 

No, instead I would be me, just me.

And you would love that. 

And I would love you. 

That was impossible then, but even more so now. Then we had a connection, then you could touch your keyboard, and I mine, and we could be together despite the miles.

Now we don’t have that. 

I haven’t seen words written by you in a very, very long time. 

No caps, or exclamation points, or hearts, or smiles typed by your fingers for longer than I can bear. 

I forget how you speak now, can no longer imagine the things you’d  say if you were here. 

The jokes you’d make. 

The laughs you’d share. 

Not anymore. 

I used to. I used to know how you’d reply when I told you a story.

I used to close my eyes and imagine the conversations we’d have.

Gone now. 

You’re gone now. 

How is that so hard to accept? 

I told them to tell you I love you. 

I don’t know if they did. They saw you again, why couldn’t I? How come they got to keep seeing you but I missed you. 

Even more with time.

I sometimes wonder if you loved me too. If the lack of logic, the twisting bewilderment of those few days meant something. If it was really the lie I wished it was. 

That’s not fair to you. 

If you lied you lied for a reason. Especially if he lied for you. 

Not fair to me either, but I can’t help it. 

I always wanted you to love me too. 

Ducks. 

Oh, ducks, I saw one and almost cried.

I met someone else who likes ducks, observed they acted in the stream, the females keep closer to the shallows, apparently.

I’m not sure I paid enough attention. 

He was nice.

But I was thinking of you, of your duck, I wonder sometimes if I remember that duck better than your face. 

Why didn’t I save that image? Now all I have is a twisting memory. 

I wish you could read my writing now. I think it’s better than it was then, stronger. I wish you knew I’m stopping pulling my lashes. The left side might not grow back now, but I’ve stopped. 

Two months I think, maybe three.  The right side is full again, with those long lashes that make people ask if I’m wearing falsies when I put on mascara. 

The left side ruins the image now. 

I’m okay with it though. It’s a sign of the past. 

I’ve always had trouble letting go of that.

I miss you. 

Is that clear? 

I wish you could hear these words across the miles, hear the tap of my keys as I type them. 

I miss how I was with you. The freedom of it. There was something about that version of me that felt real. 

So real that I question the me I am now. 

I wonder how to get back to that me, the old me, the real me, but it’s impossible without you. 

You were the other half of that me.

It can’t be complete without you. 

You don’t know that my favorite color is green. 

You don’t know that my favorite book is Heartstopper. 

You don’t know that I don’t want to be a vet. I don’t want to open a community theater. I don’t want anything except you. 

Back. Back again. 

A friend, a love, a past. 

Something I can’t forget. 

How many years now?

Almost two. It seems so short now, looking at it on the page. Two. So miniscule, but the hole you left is so large.

I wonder if you’ll come back. If you’ll remember the forum when you’re an adult, when you’re free. 

I wonder if you’ll break free at all. 

I wonder if you’ll really live with your parents til you’re 27 like they want you to.

I wonder if you’ll never date until then. 

Is it selfish that I hope you won’t?

I hope you’ll show up someday, but what is hope without proof? Without possibility? 

Will I still be there then? 

Will it still exist? 

What if it doesn’t? What if it goes away and all is lost? 

I’m lost without you. My north star. You are a star, did I ever tell you that? A bright light in a world of darkness.

When I couldn’t see the path you gave me a lamp. 

And then you left. 

I love you. 

Did I say that yet? 

I do.

I always have. 

Maybe I always will. 

I think I’ll print this, hide it under my bed for no one to see. 

For me to see. 

There’s so much more I can say, I keep going back and adding things, more things I wish you could know. 

You can’t though. 

I guess it doesn’t matter in the end. 

You were my best friend, beyond everything else clouding my eyes in that time, you were my friend. 

A wonderful friend.

I can’t forget you. I hope you know that, even if you can never read this letter. 

Sincerely, your friend(ly neighbor)

Dear friend, 

Do soulmates exist? 

I’d like to think so, one in a million. No, one in a billion.

Scratch that. 

One in forever. 

That was you to me 

I can’t imagine another. 

But you? You’re gone, lost somewhere in time, in space, on earth, america, ohio. 

I wish you could show up on my doorstep, tell me you missed me, tell me you love me, that you did all along.

But that’s the thing about unrequited love. 

You won’t do that. 

Even if you could, I’m probably a faint glimmer. A memory, not a longing. 

I miss you. 

Do you care? No, no you don’t. 

I have to believe that. I don’t think I could live believing you’re out there missing me too. Looking out windows at tornados like the idiot you are, and thinking of me. Me telling you that you’re an idiot, and I don’t want you to die. 

Death, isn’t that a silly thing? 

I don’t even know if you’re alive. You could have been hit by a bus, and I wouldn’t know. 

I never got to tell you how my show went, that I lost my voice and couldn’t sing my part for the first two. 

That I made friends that didn’t last beyond the final performance. 

That I wish you could have seen it, because then I’d get to see you. 

Space is a fickle thing. There was always so much space between us, and yet we were so close. 

Distance doesn’t matter when it’s true. 

Distance didn’t matter with you. 

I wish I had your address, that I could write this on a piece of paper, with the multicolored pen that can only make me think of you, slide it into an envelope and send it on its way. 

To you. 

Always to you. 

I wish you could be my destination, that the end of the road led to you, but how could it be possible?

I wish I could reject the principles of logic and think that we’ll meet one day, I’ll recognize you, or you me, from a single picture exchanged when we were quite young. 

My heart does think it sometimes, that fate will play a hand, that if soulmates are true then you are mine and I’m bound to find you. 

You you you. 

Sometimes it’s all I can think of at night when I close my eyes. 

I slip into the old fantasies where one day we meet. 

The ones where he was there. 

But that wouldn’t matter, because we’d be there together, and I wouldn’t be Blue, or all the other names I pretended I was back then. 

No, instead I would be me, just me.

And you would love that. 

And I would love you. 

That was impossible then, but even more so now. Then we had a connection, then you could touch your keyboard, and I mine, and we could be together despite the miles.

Now we don’t have that. 

I haven’t seen words written by you in a very, very long time. 

No caps, or exclamation points, or hearts, or smiles typed by your fingers for longer than I can bear. 

I forget how you speak now, can no longer imagine the things you’d  say if you were here. 

The jokes you’d make. 

The laughs you’d share. 

Not anymore. 

I used to. I used to know how you’d reply when I told you a story.

I used to close my eyes and imagine the conversations we’d have.

Gone now. 

You’re gone now. 

How is that so hard to accept? 

I told them to tell you I love you. 

I don’t know if they did. They saw you again, why couldn’t I? How come they got to keep seeing you but I missed you. 

Even more with time.

I sometimes wonder if you loved me too. If the lack of logic, the twisting bewilderment of those few days meant something. If it was really the lie I wished it was. 

That’s not fair to you. 

If you lied you lied for a reason. Especially if he lied for you. 

Not fair to me either, but I can’t help it. 

I always wanted you to love me too. 

Ducks. 

Oh, ducks, I saw one and almost cried.

I met someone else who likes ducks, observed they acted in the stream, the females keep closer to the shallows, apparently.

I’m not sure I paid enough attention. 

He was nice.

But I was thinking of you, of your duck, I wonder sometimes if I remember that duck better than your face. 

Why didn’t I save that image? Now all I have is a twisting memory. 

I wish you could read my writing now. I think it’s better than it was then, stronger. I wish you knew I’m stopping pulling my lashes. The left side might not grow back now, but I’ve stopped. 

Two months I think, maybe three.  The right side is full again, with those long lashes that make people ask if I’m wearing falsies when I put on mascara. 

The left side ruins the image now. 

I’m okay with it though. It’s a sign of the past. 

I’ve always had trouble letting go of that.

I miss you. 

Is that clear? 

I wish you could hear these words across the miles, hear the tap of my keys as I type them. 

I miss how I was with you. The freedom of it. There was something about that version of me that felt real. 

So real that I question the me I am now. 

I wonder how to get back to that me, the old me, the real me, but it’s impossible without you. 

You were the other half of that me.

It can’t be complete without you. 

You don’t know that my favorite color is green. 

You don’t know that my favorite book is Heartstopper. 

You don’t know that I don’t want to be a vet. I don’t want to open a community theater. I don’t want anything except you. 

Back. Back again. 

A friend, a love, a past. 

Something I can’t forget. 

How many years now?

Almost two. It seems so short now, looking at it on the page. Two. So miniscule, but the hole you left is so large.

I wonder if you’ll come back. If you’ll remember the forum when you’re an adult, when you’re free. 

I wonder if you’ll break free at all. 

I wonder if you’ll really live with your parents til you’re 27 like they want you to.

I wonder if you’ll never date until then. 

Is it selfish that I hope you won’t?

I hope you’ll show up someday, but what is hope without proof? Without possibility? 

Will I still be there then? 

Will it still exist? 

What if it doesn’t? What if it goes away and all is lost? 

I’m lost without you. My north star. You are a star, did I ever tell you that? A bright light in a world of darkness.

When I couldn’t see the path you gave me a lamp. 

And then you left. 

I love you. 

Did I say that yet? 

I do.

I always have. 

Maybe I always will. 

I think I’ll print this, hide it under my bed for no one to see. 

For me to see. 

There’s so much more I can say, I keep going back and adding things, more things I wish you could know. 

You can’t though. 

I guess it doesn’t matter in the end. 

You were my best friend, beyond everything else clouding my eyes in that time, you were my friend. 

A wonderful friend.

I can’t forget you. I hope you know that, even if you can never read this letter. 

Sincerely, your friend(ly neighbor)

Greetings! I recently cut out and placed heartstopper leaves on my wall! (yellow red and blue, as my wall is green) in a large spiral!

In the center I left a space for me to put speech bubble quotes from the novels.

My main idea, and initial plan, was to put their first hellos, I've though of a few others along the way, but it got me thinking.

What would you put in the center?

Both because I'm curious, and I wouldn't mind some more ideas 👀

Bisexual

I've known I'm bi for quite a while, but I experience attraction to women very differently, as I'm only romantically interested in them if I know them well/we have a friendship prior.

And now I know what it's called! Delloromantic! I'm so happy. I found out I was bi three years ago (approxomately) glad I can finally specify it.

I really don't want to stack up labels, that's I think why I've just stuck with being bi, but this one...makes sense, and really validates my questioning about it, so when I found out about it...I just, yeah, it's me.

Delloromantic