#AND MY MOM SAID SHE LOVED THE COLORING IN THIS I WAS SO FLATTERED

[jztr-77]

Bunny date!!

[clamorybus]

i haven't cried since saturday but a lot of little things have made me misty-eyed. like our birthdays are in a month and a half; ever since my parents moved out her and pa's house she gave us phone calls on our birthdays. and for the first time in my life i'm not gonna hear her voice on my birthday

[fandomwe1rd0]

"Colors" A Rick and Morty songfic

TW ALOCHOL AND DRUG ABUSE UNDER THE CUT

Your little brother never tells you, but he loves you so

Rick was looking at Morty. He was asleep, he looked so peaceful when he's asleep, so much different then how he usually saw Morty, yelling, running, and overall just being anxiety if anxiety was a person. He sighed as he saw the bruises that littered Morty's arms after their latest adventure, he ran a hand through his hair as he sighed. He took a syringe and injected it into Morty's cheek letting out a deep sigh. A churning in his gut formed with the knowledge that this was his fault. He patted Morty's head with a whisper "I'm sorry..."

Rick's inner voice insulted him "You don't deserve his forgiveness. You're a piece of shit."

You said your mother only smiled on her tv show

Morty tapped on her mom's shoulder. Beth turned over "What!?" Morty flinched

"See even your mom doesn't want to spend time with you anymore, she hates you. Everyone does." Morty's inner voice chided.

Morty stammered "I-I-I just-" Beth sighed "Look, I'm busy right now, can it wait?" "But I-" Beth sent a glare that sent shivers down Morty's spine, "Wait." Morty gulped then Beth's phone rang. She pinched her nose and mumbled "This shit again..." She answered the phone with a smile on her face, she chirped, her voice like honey "Hello! This is Beth! Yes I can go to the horse hospital right now!" Beth started walking and Morty grabbed onto her arm "Wait mom-" Beth ripped herself from Morty's grip and went to the horse hospital, while Morty gripped onto the card he made Beth for Mother's Day.

You're only happy when you're sorry, head is filled with dope

Rick was high off of kalaxium crystal, he also maybe had a weeeee bit of whiskey. Hah. That's what he told himself. It made his addiction sound less serious right? In truth, he only had 2 bottles. Less than the 5 bottles he usually drank though. He attempted to open Morty's door, he missed the doorknob 4 times, but eventually manged to open it, kicking the door behind him to close it. Morty fluttered his eyes open. Wait..what was Rick doing here? He had a test tomorrow! Morty internally groaned "R-Rick what is-" Rick cut him off with a hug. Morty hated the way he near instinctively relaxed by the hug. "Rick what is-" "I'm sorry little budddddyyyy." Morty blinked. 

What? 

Rick wasn't one to apologize...

"Because he doesn't have to apologize. You deserve it. You're just an oversensitive piece of shit." Morty's inner voice commented, laced with venom.

Morty gulped down the lump in his throat. 

Rick slurred "I...I put you through too much budddddyyyy. S-sorry for being mean on the latest adventureeeee." Rick smiled wide, showing his yellow teeth "Y-you did good buddy...y-you...you did great m-my little buddddyyy"

"He doesn't put you through too much." Morty's inner voice argued. "You're just too weak." Morty hated the way his cheeks flushed due to being flattered as soon as those words left Rick's mouth, hated the way hs body went limp, completely surrendering to Rick's touch, he knew Rick didn't mean it but...the physical affection and validation was nice...even if he only got it while Rick was drunk

"God, you're soaking this up like a puppy..." Morty felt his cheeks getting hot, this time with shame 

"Pull away." His inner voice urged "If you do this he's just going to using you for adventures."

But Morty didn't.

He doesn't know why he didn't.

But he didn't.

He just...couldn't... 

"Fucking weak ass bitch..." His inner voice muttered as if Morty couldn't hear him.

Morty hated the way tears stung his eyes.

He really was weak...

Rick asked "What's wronngggg you became like a limp noodle buddyyyy." "Nothing."

Rick laughed "You're weirddddd." Morty sniffled, hating how loud it was, Rick asked "You sure you're okay m-muh m-my guyyy" "I'm fine" Morty lied, replying a little too quickly.

He always lied.

He was never fine.

But Rick didn't care.

He never did.

I hope you make it to the day you're 28 years old

Rick laid surrounded by beer cans and pills, completely passed out. 

Morty was left cleaning up the beer cans and pill containers. He sighed.

"Nice job, downgraded from Rick's sidekick to his maid." Morty's inner voice sarcastically congratulated. Morty clutched onto the bag.

Hard.

The bag crinkled under his grip and Morty took a deep breath as he continued cleaning with a vice-like grip on the bag.

He looked over to Rick, and sighed. "How are you still alive?" Morty mumbles. His eyes shoot open when he realizes what he said, he feels something horrible twist in his gut, that's a terrible thing to say! Why did he even say that!? Morty felt it again, for the 3rd time this week, it was Wednesday, he felt it. The awful, aggressive, angry, feeling chewing inside of him, wanting to get out.

He ignored it.

He always did.

You're dripping like a saturated sunrise

Rick and Morty were running from a monster. Morty was panting, sweat covering his shirt. Rick grabbed Morty's wrist roughly as he pulled him near him "GO FASTER FUCKNUT!" Morty was hyperventilating, running as fast as his legs can take him.

"You're so fucking weak." Morty's inner voice insulted. Morty was too busy trying to get his heart to stop beating so fast, to put an end to the adrenaline coursing through his veins. 

You're spilling like an overflowing sink

As Morty was running, he felt tears stinging his eyes, he hated how he was starting to cry when stressed, Rick's bruising grip on his wrist wasn't helping either, Morty could already see the purple-blueish marks that were starting to blossom like flowers on his wrists. 

Morty squeaked "R-Rick...your grip...you're hurting me..."

Morty cringed at how pathetic he sounded. His inner voice made it clear that he sounded pathetic 

"Jesus, crying like a little baby back bitch." Morty sniffed and Rick rolled his eyes "There are more important thing to worry about Morty!" Rick barked. Morty looked up at him with watery eyes and let out a pitiful "Please...?' Rick groaned "Jesus fucking Christ." Instead of loosening his grip like a normal person, Rick pulled Morty closer, and hoisted him over his shoulder, one of his hands on Morty's back as he used his other to shoot the beast that was hunting them. Morty blinked "Rick what-" Rick barked "Shut up." 

Morty's inner voice mocked "Forcing Rick to carry you like you're a fucking baby...God you're pathetic." Morty didn't force him to do this! But he hated himself as he felt a comfort at his touch, his body instinctively yielding to Rick's touch. Jeez, he really was Rick's lapdog wasn't he?

You're ripped at every edge, but you're a masterpiece, and now you're tearing through the pages and the ink (mmm, mmm)

After that adventure Morty was dry heaving and Rick looked away, patting Morty's back. Morty felt tears sting his eyes.

"Look at you, Christ you are such a big baby."

That did it.

All the emotion he was holding in all day came out as Morty began crying and dove into Rick's chest, sobbing in his chest while clutching his lab coat with an iron-fisted grip. Rick put his arms up, unsure what to do with them, he looked around awkwardly then placed them around Morty. "Hey buddy...wh-wha-*burp*-t ha-what's wrong buddy?" Morty sniffled.

"Look at you, clinging to him, he hates you. I know he does." 

That just made Morty cry harder. 

"I-I'm sorry Rick...I-I'm so needy...so clingy...you must hate me..."

"Morty..."

"I-I made you carry me! Y-you had to carry me on our adventure! L-Like I was some kind of...like some kind of child!" 

Rick began rubbing Morty's back in comforting circle as Morty locked his arms around Rick's neck as tears flooded from his eyes. 

Rick sighed "Morty...c'mon...you know I don't..." 

Rick's jaw clenched.

He couldn't let himself finish that sentence. 

"You know what happens when you love people." Rick inner voice bitterly reminded him of. "Remember what happened with Diane?" Rick bit his lip until he the metallic tasting blood coated his tongue. 

"You know I..." The words died on Rick's blood soaked tongue.

He sighed and just hugged Morty as Morty bawled his eyes out on Rick's chest.

Everything is blue

Rick sat down in his office, staring up into the ceiling. 

"You're such an asshole." 

Rick needed something to numb the pain.

His pills, 

Rick took out a canister of opioid pills, and swallowed them, his eyes immediately dialed, leaving a small sliver of blue left, he giggled as he felt the euphoria take over, making everything else seem but also his stomach churned, as he suddenly felt the need to throw up, he clutched his stomach, laughing breathy. As he tried his best to ignore the tears filling his eyes.

His hands, his jeans

Morty looked at his hands, breathing heavily as the teal blood of Mr. Jellybean was coating his hands, the sickening warmness on his hands, his breathing heavied as he clutched the stall door, quiet sobs rattled from his chest, hugging his knees. Not caring that the teal blood stained his jeans. He hated being in the same stall as that sick fuck, He buried his face in his jeans, slobber and tears darkening his jeans in dark spots.

And now I'm covered in the colors, pulled apart at the seams, and it's blue, and it's blue

Morty was on yet another adventure with Rick, he had no say in it, did he? He always was going to get dragged on these adventures, whether he liked it or not. 

It doesn't matter if he didn't feel like it.

It doesn't matter if he's so sick he can barely move.

It doesn't matter if he got no sleep last night.

It doesn't matter if it was dangerous.

It doesn't matter if Morty could die during the adventure.

He always needed to go with Rick.

Always.

"Because you're nothing but a pathetic lapdog to Rick." Morty's inner voice commented.

Morty's shoulder slumped.

It was right.

It was always right...

Everything is grey

Rick laid down on his bed, trying to find a reason to get out, which always got more and more difficult. His entire world felt grey. Numb. Bleak. Tired. Damp. Nothing matters, he knew that. So why bother doing anything? Why not just go to sleep forever? Why even live? Lord knows Rick hates himself anyway...he hated his life, he hated everything.

Rick thought of Morty, that's right...that's why he was still alive...he hated that kid...

"Oh shut up, you love him, you shouldn't feel anything you know what happens when you love people, they die or leave you, and y'know what? I don't blame them. You deserve it." Rick's inner voice snubbed

No he doesn't.

"Keep telling yourself that..." Rick's inner voice said.

Well...Rick wanted to hate him.

But it's not his fault!

It's Morty's!

It's not like it's Rick's fault that Morty's smile radiated pure innocence, so much so that it reminded Rick that there was still some good in this broken universe, it wasn't Rick's fault that the way Morty looked at Rick with so much trust in his eyes, the trust the he didn't deserve, the look that made Rick almost feel like he wasn't a huge piece of shit and hate himself at the same time, it wasn't Rick's fault that Morty was able to ground Rick into the world the way nobody else was able to..the way he was his little buddy, his partner, his best friend, his...

...

His reason to live...

...

Rick hated almost everything.

His hair.

Rick ran a hand through his grayish light blue hair. His hands nearly instinctively reached for his cigarette.

"Of course you fucking reach for the cigarettes, you fucking addict." His inner voice criticized. 

Rick reached for a cigarette. Smoking the whole thing in one breath.

His smoke

Rick exhaled, the grey smoke filling up the garage. Rick coughed, but only a little. He got used to it. Used to the metal in his lungs, he could always get new ones, so why did it matter?

The back of his throat was itchy, God it was annoying, but he could always reverse it.

His mouth became dry, but he could always make a device to wet his lips again, or just fucking lick them, he could also just drink alcohol, like how he always did. He has burned through so many livers.

Why did anything matter?

If you're a man who can do anything you want, why even try anymore?

Any negative effects of anything can easily be removed, so what's the point?

Why take care of yourself?

That was Rick's thought process, at least. 

I mean, he certainly didn't like himself enough to take care of him, so why put in the effort when he can be doing more important things?

His dreams

Y'know Rick's old dream was to kill Rick Prime.

He has fantasized about it so, so many times.

It was going to be an epic battle.

Or at least that's what Rick always thought.

But here he was.

Punching Rick Prime while he was strapped to a chair.

He saw the life drain from his eyes, heard him gurgling on his own blood, saw him become motionless, expecting to feel some happiness, or hell, I don't know...satisfaction?

He just killed the guy who killed his wife.

But he felt nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

And now he's so devoid of color, he don't know what it means and he's blue and he's blue...

Whenever the effects of the drugs Rick took worse off, he would take more. Or he would just drink alcohol.

When the effects of his alcohol wear off. He took more.

He always just wanted more, more, more.

He was never satisfied. He always just felt empty.

There was a hole in him.

It just took more, more, more.

It was never satisfied. 

Never.

It numbed him at least.

Made the voices quieter.

Made the voices got further and further away...until Rick almost couldn't hear them

...

Almost.

Numbed him to everything.

Made him forget how much he hated himself.

It didn't matter how much it destroyed him.

How ashamed he felt about himself after.

How much he regretted what he did when he was drunk.

It didn't matter how much it isolated himself from his family.

He didn't care.

He liked being alone.

So why did he always want to cry when he was alone...?

Whatever.

It helped for the moment.

Made him feel relaxed, euphoric.

He felt pure ecstasy for the moment.

It was only for a moment.

He always felt like shit afterwards...

But...the pure, raw, unfiltered, ecstasy...

That made it worth it in the end...

...

Right...?

...

I-it made it worth it

...

Please tell him it made it worth

[immortalarizona]

“This is chaos magic, Wanda. And that makes you the Scarlet Witch.”

— Agatha Harkness

a sketch showcasing my Wanda design!! credit to @adorkastock for the pose reference used :)

below the cut is a full breakdown of my design, including its evolution, my thought process, and other unposted drawings relating to this project, so read on if you’re interested!!

okay, so real talk, I first decided I wanted to make my own Wanda design because I Could Not be bothered to keep looking up refs for whatever tf is going on with her mcu costume bodice. I mean, look at this:

I mean, maybe it looks okay onscreen, but there’s so many fiddly little details, especially around the collar, and it was just a pain to draw whenever I would draw my Wanda. and okay I’ll be real I also wanted to distance my Wanda from the whitewashed Wendy version of her, because I Do What I Want. and also, the dullness of the reds did not spark joy within my heart. she’s the Scarlet Witch, people, not the Vaguely Maroon Witch!!

and I fell in love with the Kevin Wada design when I first saw it. it’s gorgeous, it’s sleek, it’s witchy, and it’s significantly less frustrating to draw!!

so for a while, I drew my Wanda in a variation of this fit, blended with some of my own touches (a high ponytail + an occasional choker) and a few of the things I did like from her mcu fit (the crown + the half skirt thingamabob + the long cape). but I was still feeling :/ about it, mainly because while the off-the-shoulder design looks lovely, I found it tricky to draw whenever Wanda would raise her hands above her head. exhibit a below:

behold, the sketch for an old drawing I never finished!! and I know artists smarter than me have figured out How The Sleeves, because some comics even today still use this design, but I only have so many brain cells to spend, and I felt like simplifying things for myself even further.

that was when Russell Dauterman’s design for the 2022 Hellfire Gala dropped. and I went FERAL.

it’s gorgeous!! it’s stunning!! high collars my beloved!! so I took the collar design and ran with it for my own design.

behold, a janky rendition of my costume design in the crappy colored pencils provided to us during my fashion design class!! I know, I know, the coloring looks atrocious, but I was working with what I had. now, you may have already noticed some elements not present in any of the designs I cited as my influences. let’s talk about those!!

the sleeves are split from the main bodice as gloves: this was for my own sanity, haha. it was a construction my smol lizard brain could comprehend and work with much better than Whatever is going on with the comics designs.

the red portion of the gloves tapers in kind of a V design rather than cutting off at the fingers: personally, I felt like this accentuated the elegant flow of all the hand gestures Wanda makes when using her powers better than the classic fingerless design, or whatever thumb strap thingy was going on with her MoM costume.

where’d the design for her cloak clasp come from?: now we all know that tumblr’s pixel budget is next to nil, but if you zoom in, you’ll notice that the clasp of Wanda’s cloak is not her M crown design, but rather a golden kinda coffin-shaped thingy. see, I saw this one theory that this hex shape in Wanda’s mcu bodice was an homage to Vision and the Mind Stone, and I liked that theory, so I referenced it with a hex-shaped clasp.

and the runes on her bodice and skirt?: I actually referenced the Enochian font for those!! according to wikipedia, it’s said to be the language of angels, which feels appropriate for a character as tied to cosmic powers as Wanda. also, real talk, it just looks cool. the script on her bodice originally said “not born, forged,” in reference to the Darkhold’s Scarlet Witch prophecy, but it’s become truncated as the bodice has become shorter to accommodate a more high-waisted structure, which I personally believe to be more flattering in general. I added the runes pretty late in the design process to her skirt to tie the whole fit together visually. from an in-universe perspective, I like to think of the writing as Chthon visually marking Wanda as his creation. his witch.

why does Wanda have a high ponytail when she’s never had one in her most recognizable incarnations?: because a) I do what I want, and b) Alba Flores looks STUNNING in a high ponytail.

and let it never be said that I am not fruity as all heck about Wanda Maximoff <3

so there you have it, a Wanda design that I think is as beautiful, regal, and magical as she is, not to mention one that I can draw repeatedly without having to immediately reach for my phone to Yet Again look up references for how the heck the bodice works.

(and really, it only seemed fitting that the Scarlet Witch of Earth-19384 should receive her own unique design.)

[xerith-42]

I decided to watch Void Paradox

I'm about five minutes into the first episode and I'm still not entirely sure if this is a good idea or not, but Laurance has already spoken like three lines of dialogue and I felt my heart wrench at just one of them, so clearly I'm in too deep now.

This post serves as my live tweeting/mental break down that I am currently having as we speak. It is very incomprehensible because it is literally just my thoughts as they happen, and given how much I have to say, I'll probably make proper posts out of a lot of these points once I finish the series.

This mess is just giving you a taste of the madness I truly posses.

I am only three minutes in before I have to pause and feel the urge to scream about how bad the dialogue in Aphmau series can be. Like this series is fairly okay, especially based on the standard set by her other shows but man... something is just not working here. The whole thing feels very clunky and while I can get the gist of what Jess is going for, the execution of said gist is leaving a lot to be desired.

[Laurance shows up]

nevermind Laurance is on screen and fully voice acted everything is better

Literally nobody talk to me I need to scream about Laurance Zvahl because he is EVERYTHING in this series. The way he very softly says Aph's name when he sees her, the immediate instinct to hug her because he's so relieved to see her, the fact that you can hear the smile in his voice the minute he registers that she's there and alive!! AUGH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!

And I literally screamed when he revealed that he was transported to this AU right at the end of season 1. Oh my Irene, I screamed. I collapsed. I was truly defeated by a single line of dialogue. I don't know where this series is going to go but I am here for it. And the fact that he knows Garroth did it and hid it from her???

I can't overstate how genuinely healing it is to hear Laurance fully voice acted. I know Sebastian Todd is retired from voice acting, but when he retired, he took down all his posts, including what I considered to be a comfort video. That video of him reading iconic Laurance lines from before he was in mcd/lines he just didn't act? That video was my everything when I was trying to hold onto this version of the character I knew I loved who was different to what Jess made him. When that video got taken down it was a major cowabummer bc there's so little properly voice acted Laurance content that isn't mcd Season 3 or My Street stuff (and I can't stand My Street like 80% of the time)

Hearing his voice, hearing him get to be properly expressive, it's just doing things to me man. I missed this character a lot. I've mostly been enjoying him through fan content or my own work. It's nice to say I enjoy a piece of canon content involving him, at least so far.

Still not sure how I feel about literally anything else. The whole relationship between Aph and Tommy feels very... weird. She describes herself as "basically his mother" after she's left with him, and treats him like it in the opening scene. But then when he's mocking her for being attracted to Laurance (so relatable), it seems really weird for a [checks wiki] 14 year old kid to be calling out his mom for finding someone hot. Feels a lot more like sibling dialogue to me? Which I guess they could be seen as siblings, but the series explicitly stated that she views it like motherhood??? But I don't think Jess is even thinking that deeply about it, I just over analyze her work for fun at this point.

Okay what the actual fuck is going on with the inside of this house???

Why is the color scheme purple and yellow? And not in any kind of flattering way which is possible with opposite colors, it just has both of them. The wallpaper changes when you get into the living room except not entirely on the windows, and in an earlier scene it looked like it wasn't even put onto all of the walls. And the wood that she used as supports just does not compliment either of these colors as they are. Just make it all purple, you know you want to Jess.

Also is the texture on the table and the glass the same??? I don't know a damn thing about modding or making texture/data packs for minecraft but that just seems. odd.

Laurance: mentions the nether Me: [screams just a little]

Tommy: shows up and gives a random ass lore dump Aph: Kay thanks go back to your room

"I don't know what I can do to help."

"Just be there for me. I just need someone to ground me right now."

I literally want to shake Laurance around like a rag doll and give him a stupid kiss on his stupid fucking face UGH why can't I be normal about this block man and his stupid feelings?!?! The way his voice breaks as despair sets in?? The fact that he's no doubt pieced together that Garroth probably stole the amulet and plans to use it to hurt Aph and he can't do anything about it?? I'm literally losing it.

How did I not watch this series before.

Literally about to cry over him just calling Aph "M'lady" out of pure instinct. He didn't consciously do that. He just misses her that much.

oh no spooky evil alternate Laurance or whatever--

MAN I'm so happy I decided to watch this series. This was probably a mistake though :)

[starlightsearches]

Ok Eddie ask.

It’s ok if you don’t want to do it but yeah.

So I’m in my 20s but I’ve never been kissed. Like never even held hands with someone romantically. Can you do one with Eddie x reader who is embarrassed about her lack of experience and feels like it’s impossible for any guy to be attracted to her

Enough

AN: First of all, friend, I am so so so sorry that I've been holding on to this request since June. I was not ignoring you—I just wanted to make sure I did your request justice. We, and many others, are in the same boat, but you don't need Eddie to tell you that you're worthy of so much love 💖

Also, big thanks to Irma (@theold-ultraviolence) for helping me so much with this story!

Warnings: sexual content so 18+ only but no smut, lots of body-image/confidence issues from reader's POV, writing this did make me cry a little bit tbh, angst and then hurt/comfort and then a little fluff to make up for it, language, idiots to lovers, boners, swimming, Eddie is friends with Robin and Steve but no events from S4 are mentioned, and I think that's it.

You can tell Eddie's scowling behind the frames of the heart-shaped sunglasses he found on the floor of your car, his nose scrunched up with distaste at the scent of chlorine and the baked asphalt of the parking lot.

"It's too hot for this, babe."

You shift your bag from one arm to the other, trying to catch a breeze under your cover-up.

"That's the whole point of going to the pool, Eds."

You'd found Eddie in a puddle-like state, laying on the floor of the trailer with three different fans pointing at him, curls brushed up off his neck and spilling across the carpet. It hadn't taken much convincing to get him into your car, but a public pool would obviously be a harder sell.

He tugs at the waistband of his borrowed swim trunks—the ones Steve had thrown in his direction the second you walked through the door of his big-ass house. He'd said something about the Hawkins pool over the general racket before heaving a cooler into his arms and leaving with all his children in tow.

"We could still go to record store," Eddie pouts, pulling at your wrist, "or the movies. You know? Somewhere with air conditioning."

He bats his ridiculously long lashes, and you almost fold, fingers curling into fists with the effort it takes to resist his dumb, huge, baby-cow eyes.

"Come on," —you nudge him with your elbow — "it'll be fun."

Eddie doesn't look convinced.

The place is already packed, even though the day just started, filled with moms fanned out on lounge chairs and their screaming spawn. You pick through the crowd, all the way to the chairs Steve and Robin have saved for you in a shady corner at the back.

The kids are already in the pool—you can catch the sound of Mike yelling past a mouth full of water when Max dunks him under—and it looks like Robin and Steve are headed that way.

"Took you guys long enough," Robin scolds you, pushing her sunglasses into her hair while you set your bag down.

"Sorry, I had to go get my swimsuit."

Your hands tremble at the hem of your baggy t-shirt, but you play brave, lifting it up over your head and shaking your hair back into place.

Robin whistles jokingly as she smears some of your sunscreen over Steve's shoulders.

"Woah. Is that new?" Steve asks, looking at you with furrowed brows and trying to dodge Robin's slick fingers poking at his face.

"I've had it for forever, Steve."

You're lying through your teeth. Fucking three hours at some mall six towns over and about a hundred potential breakdowns in dressing rooms at five different stores—it had taken all your will power to find a swimsuit you actually, honest-to-god, liked. Now you're wondering if all that effort had been wasted.

You'd felt so good looking in the mirror back at your house. The colors looked nice on your skin, the cut was flattering—but Eddie's hardly glanced in your direction, already flopped down in one of the empty chairs with his nose tucked into the newest Stephen King.

Robin and Steve run off, taking quick little steps on the sizzling concrete before jumping into the pool—two splashes echoing in quick succession—as you sit on the chair beside Eddie, pulling one of the spare towels across your lap, feeling stupid and small.

It's your own fault. You'd put too much hope in a dumb piece of fabric.

Pining for your best friend is as painful as it is fruitless. You'd sworn him off before, swallowed your feelings like a chipped tooth. You'd park outside the trailer and promise you wouldn't go all gummy when he used all his fucking Munson charm on you. But you were shit at keeping those promises, and Eddie was too big of a flirt—and too clueless—to know you were dying inside.

Whatever. It wasn't just Eddie, anyways. There'd never been any guys who wanted to get to know you—not any more than they had to before asking if one of your other friends was single. And you could handle being alone, even if you hated being lonely. You'd had plenty of practice.

Eddie waves his hand in your face, blocking out the sun. The look he gives you says he'd been trying to get your attention for a while.

"You there, sweetheart? Our kid is calling."

You can hear Dustin shouting from the edge of the pool, waving his arms wildly. A couple sunbathers shoot you a glare, like you're the one who's screaming, and you return the dirty look.

Eddie sighs, dog-earing the page he just finished before offering you a hand.

"Shall we, m'lady?"

You take it, your palm cold and clammy despite the summer sun. He starts heading for the pool immediately, almost losing his balance when you drag him back in the shade.

"Eddie, you gotta sunscreen."

Maybe it's just the first sign of sun burn, but you swear Eddie's cheeks turn pinker. He grabs at the collar of his favorite Dio t-shirt. "I was just gonna wear this."

"In the pool? The chlorine will bleach it, Eds." He just stands there, chewing at his lip. And, thinking back, Eddie's always been pretty modest around you. When you'd spend nights at the trailer or when he was working on his van—even when he'd step back in the room after a shower—he'd always have a shirt on, the damp fabric sticking to his shoulder blades or stained with grease.

You're about to offer your own shirt when he drops your hand, pulling the at the collar and lifting the fabric over his head.

Fuck. Eddie bares his torso and you're lucky he can't see you past the shirt bunched up around his head, because you're staring, and it's obvious.

You hadn't thought much about Eddie shirtless—because any skin-to-skin contact in your daydreams was a good sign you needed to get the fuck back down to Earth—but you'd been missing out. He's not particularly toned or anything, but the patch of dark hair that grows just under his belly button has got your mouth-watering, and his skin looks warm and soft. He's just so fucking pretty. Shaking out his curls, Eddie tosses the t-shirt onto a chair, and you try to pretend it's his tattoos that you're so invested in, and not the other kinds of marks you'd like to leave on his skin.

"You got the sunscreen?" he asks, voice quiet.

Looking him in the eyes would be like lighting a match over a gasoline spill, and your throat is too tight to speak. You grab the little bottle from the top of your bag, squeezing a bit of the lotion into your hand.

Eddie scrapes his hair off his shoulders with one hand, fingers tangling in his own curls. It's stupid to be jealous over something like that. It's stupid, but your teeth still sink into your lip hard enough to sting.

"So should we start with my back, or . . ." Eddie tries a laugh but it doesn't quite land. There's something in his expression that you can't read.

"Uh, yeah."

If you thought the view from the front made it hard to be normal, the back is a hundred times worse.

"Oh my god."

The words slip out, and you can't bite them back. Eddie glances at you over his shoulder, fingers still caught in his hair.

"Are those- are these ones new?"

He knows what you're talking about; the tattoos take up the entire span of his back, stretching down past the sharp edge of his shoulder blade. You trace one thin line of the wing crossing just under Eddie's neck—skeletal and webbed like a bat.

He laughs hesitantly, and his skin jumps under your finger.

"Uh, kinda, yeah."

"Cool. That's really cool."

God—you're so hungry for him it's made you faint, and stupid, made you forget how to speak like a person.

You smear the lotion over his neck without any warning, and he shivers, shoulder blades pressing together, bat wings flexing as his skin grows taut.

"Sorry," you mumble. His skin's still warm, even after the lotion sinks in. You make another pass, this time over his shoulder and down his bicep. His arms are surprisingly toned; you feel the hard flex of muscle under your fingers.

You can't think about how it would feel to grip at those arms while he drove into you, fucking you hard and fast, tongue caught between his teeth and curls sticking to his cheeks.

You stab the sharp end of the sunscreen bottle into your thigh and grit your teeth against the pain. You've got to stop touching him before you do something you regret.

Eddie's uncharacteristically quiet as you move your hand down to his waist, massaging the lotion in as quickly as you can so there's no time to think about leaving scratch marks down his back.

Fuck, you need some kind of intervention. Maybe a divine one. It's actually a little pathetic to want someone this badly.

"All done?" Eddie asks, but he's already stepping away from you without waiting for an answer.

You chase after him, hopping over a couple stretched out over a towel just to keep up with him, the sunscreen still open in your hand.

"Eddie," you grab at him by the shoulder, but your hands are still slick and he slips away, almost to the edge of the pool before you catch him again, "we still gotta do your front—"

You don't mean to look down. You're just following the line of his gaze when you see it. And you may be inexperienced, but you're not stupid.

Eddie's dick is so hard it's about to split the seam of his trunks.

You're skin is burning when you look him in the eyes again, jaw flopping open and snapping shut without any words coming out. You've got the image of his dick imprint burned in your mind, but it feels like he's the one seeing you naked.

He's got the same look on his face he did the time he accidentally backed into your car trying to pull away from the trailer, too busy arguing with you about the tape you put on to look where he was going. Then he shoves you hard on the shoulder, and your feet give out underneath you.

You don't get a chance to take a breath before the water swallows you up.

The drive back home is quiet. Eddie doesn't even try to fiddle with your radio this time, even if you'd let him put on what he want without slapping away his hand.

The trailer appears in your windshield, and he still hasn't said a word to you. You throw the car in park, leaning your head back against the hot leather seat. Your shoulders sting from the sun and the chlorine has made your skin tight.

"So," Eddie asks, "should we talk about . . . it?"

It would be good to hear a name. If you knew who he wanted so badly you could nudge at all the gaps between who you are and who Eddie craves until they became craters and you could learn to finally get over him.

It would also hurt like a bitch.

"If you want to," you tell him. His hair's still a little wet and frizzy, and the sun's made his freckles stand out more.

"You mean, you're not . . . uh, mad?"

"Why would I be mad, Eds?"

He's got that guilty look on his face again, long fingers playing around with the mirror on the visor so he doesn't have to look at you, lips pressed together and silent.

"I mean," —you'll talk if he doesn't want to, rambling to get it over with— "we were at a pool, you know, and there was a lot of . . . skin. So what if you were watching somebody and-"

"Wait," Eddie's hand lands on the bare skin of your thigh, just above your knee, and you flinch at his touch, "what do you mean somebody?"

You want to push his hand away—put indifference on like an armor and shrug all of this off. But Eddie's always been your Achilles' heel, and you can't pretend around him. Your vision wavers when you meet his eyes.

"Do you really not know?"

Everything about him is soft, eyes turned down at the corners and his mouth a tender frown when the tears start to fall down your cheeks.

"Baby, baby, don't—" Eddie tries to wipe the tears from your cheeks but you do push his hand away this time, gripping the steering wheel just to steady yourself.

"I'm sorry," he tells you, and you can feel the hurt in his voice like knives between your ribs, "I won't bring it up ever again, I promise, just please—" Eddie's voice breaks, so quiet and small you hardly recognize it.

"Please don't stop being my friend."

Eddie's crying now too, little sobs that shake his shoulders. He looks so young when he wipes his nose on his arm, hurt plain on his face.

"It's not that, Eds," you tell him, taking his hand, and it doesn't hurt this time, "it's just- why me?"

"What?" He looks genuinely confused. You drop your eyes, watching the way he twines his fingers between yours, and your stomach drops.

"I'm not . . . pretty."

The words feel hollow, half of the story you're trying to tell. It's a part of it, but it's only a part, at the shallowest level. It's that you've never felt pretty enough, funny enough, nice enough.

You've never been enough for anyone.

"Seriously? Sweetheart, how can you even say that?"

You shrug, sniffling. Eddie cups your cheek with his free hand.

"Baby," he tells you, shifting close, "you're so fucking pretty to me.''

It's like he's removed a stake from your heart. You know Eddie well enough to know that he means it, and he means more.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Eddie laughs a little, seeing you smile. And that makes you laugh too.

"I think you're pretty too, Eds."

Eddie kisses you for the first time from the passenger's seat in your car. He tastes like sunscreen.

[dystopyx-blog]

their unwilling mistress (3/4)

~Gals~

DANIELA 

Delusional

believes Rip is meant to be with her and is extremely confident in that fact. 

girl that makes you beg "TAKE ME NOW" 

Like that tall vampire everyone simps for Dimetrescu mixed with Grace from Umbrella academy

She fucking k n o w s she's simpable 

Likes to get Mistress in seemingly innocent but extremely not innocent situations 

Can reach top shelf

Will reach over Ripley to get things from top shelf 

Makes big old biddies obvious to Ripley as she reaches over the poor girl

Puts the power in power top

Loves being flattered 

Also loves flattering her mistress 

"I don't like it when you guys call me "mistress", it's beyond wack." "Oh? Then why don't you call me mistress instead?~" *outraged demons in the background* 

Mom friend but make it uncomfortably sexy, yknow?

Sexy mom friend -

Milf friend

Everything she does is sexy

It is incredibly frustrating for the demon girl just trying to be a human girl with her human girlfriend

Also frustrating for the other demons 

REINA 

Manipulative

Sweet girl tryna act all tough but she's such a softie 

Tsundere. Thinks being uninterested will make her mistress interested.

It does not. 

Casual clothes, skirt, zip up hoodie sweater, v neck t shirt 

Hair that flows in nonexistent wind

Said wind seems to reflect her emotions 

Unlike typical tsunderes, who act up out of self defense or whatever, Raina uses it as a strategy.

Her crush doesn't seem interested in devoted loyal followers???

Fine, she isn't a loyal devoted follower at all. 

In fact she doesn't care! 

But she does care. 

She cares so much.

Loves music n singing 

It's how she bonds 

 ELAINE

Manipulative possessive. 

Femme of your dreams

Specifically Jane the Killer, Momo Yaoyarozu (idk how to spell it ajsfhgdg)

pale girl with dark hair 

F U C K take me now 

u know the type  

Mmmmm

Flirty but gentle, u know?

BEAUTIFUL fucking laugh 

Ripley can't stay around her too long, she's definitely the biggest risk and Ripley really really loves her gf

Manipulative? What no of course not

Picture of innocence 

Definitely not Monika, you do not have to worry about her ha ha—

No she is 100% like Monika she would not hesitate to destroy her fellow demons if it meant getting what she wants, but she needs them so she can't 

She was also one of the main minds who came up with the scheme that led to this basement harem

Voice claim: Taylor Louderman  

XOCHI

Possessive slight delusional

Firmly believes Rip doesn't need anyone else. 

Butch of your dreams. 

Specifically vintage lesbian. 

Tan skin. Dark hair n eyes. 

Power woman. 

Def a top oml. 

H i p s 

They do not lie 

"Hey, could you help me tie my corset?~ 

Bad habit of referring to Mistress as Babe. 

"Thanks, Babe."/"no problem Babe" 

The only one who hates it more than Ripley is August. 

Will steal your heart, your girl, and your ID 

Voice claim: Marina or Barrett Wilbert Weed

SAOIRSE 

Obsessive. Completely and utterly. 

Soft pretty girl 

Long flowing P A L E pastel hair, multicolored eyes, soft tone of voice

softest damn soft girl you'll ever meet 

Soft flowy pastel clothing

Girl looks like a ghost, soft colors only

Unless Ripley gives her something. 

If gifted something by her mistress, she will turn it into a charm and wear it always.

Don't make her angry - she's half banshee 

Ripley fucking dreads the days she gets angry. 

Clingy 

Slightly masochistic???

Wants to be useful

Wants to be used 

Voice: probably Melanie Martinez

[haunted-dragons]

Ohhhh i can explain the eyestrain beeb! If you open up scrying workshop->predict morphology, preferably on pc or pc format of phone browser, and click on any given color, you will be given a long list of colors to scroll through. We call it a color wheel, it connects at the start and end in algorythm

Notice that some colors are very similar despite being very far away from each other (like maise and banana, or eldritch and hunter, or orca and mist.) Its because each set of colors has it's own section with as many undertones as possible, so some versions of colors, especially bright or dark, will seem very close while being half a wheel away from each other. Browns are especially mind-boggling since its a neighbor to orange and red. And not black or gray.

That said, your progens' primaries are brown and black! What do hatchies do? For each color, they look at the wheel and pick a random color between their parents' colors. The further they are away, the more of the wheel the choices will encompass.

So this hatchie had a choice for the primary: a few browns -> full spectrum of red -> full spectrum of pink -> full spectrum of white, then gray, then some black. And it liked red ^^

Notice that we ended up stepping over the end/start of the list. Hatchoes look at the shorter way around, so nobody will be skipping over the whole wheel to go from pink to white.

Yea I love messing with predict morphology! I've never really understood how to get certain coloured dragons via breeding, it's not really most important in my breeding projects so I never paid attention

The dad, Jaxx, is obsidian/midnight/ivory and mom Cedar is brown/teal/caribbean, not the most flattering combos but they make them work! Their daughter Laux came out as ruby/overcast/goldenrod, a very difficult combo

But flair came to the rescue

That's super interesting tho, thank you! Everyday I learn something new from the game, I appreciate the teaching moment! This kid really chose violence with her colours (she had more vibrant primary gene when she was born, seen below)

[glamgirlkayla]

How to Be More Feminine and Ladylike

Femininity has always come very naturally to me but as for how it started? That’s a mystery. My mom has always been a bit of a tomboy rather than girly girl. I remember putting together outfits from her closet when I was younger, wearing her heels around the house and putting on her makeup. She dressed me in the frilliest dresses to play outside in the mud haha (I would never get dirty, of course). And as I grew up, I always found myself enthralled by fashion… but not just any fashion. Feminine fashion. And it doesn’t stop there.

I’ve always had a more feminine demeanor. My behaviors and interests lean more traditionally feminine naturally. This is not something that I’ve done subconsciously but it is something that I’ve realized over time as people have brought more attention to it. With this, I’ve deducted what is considered to “be more feminine” and I’m excited to share my findings with you today!

With that being said, I believe that we all have a unique mix of feminine and masculine qualities. It’s important to own who you are and what you do best no matter where this falls on the scale. But I also understand that there is a desire from a lot of people to be more feminine and this honestly makes me so happy!

Before this whole popularity increase in being more feminine, I was looked down on and made fun for being my authentic self, which happens to be… you guessed it – feminine. People would often asked why I was always so dressed up or why I love pink so much or why I love wearing dresses. I discussed this in detail in my post about Why It’s Okay to be a Girly Girl. For some reason, these are negatives in the eyes of others. What’s even worse is that I was often judged for my appearance. People would often think I was unintelligent, untalented, air-headed, and weak. I specifically remember many situations where I was judged and punished solely on the basis of how I looked and presented myself. But that’s a story for a different day.

I’m really happy that society “seems” to be more accepting of femininity these days and to be honest, I’ve always felt a need to preserve it. I love sharing feminine outfits but I also love breaking stereotypes and inspiring others to do the same. You can be feminine and strong, fun, successful, talented, smart and masculine (crazy, right?

For now, let’s get into all of my tips on how to be more feminine and ladylike! 🙂

Dressing The Part

Let’s start with the basics! Looking feminine is all about dressing feminine. Of course, there are items that are more traditionally feminine but don’t feel like you have to dress in a way that is not authentic to you. By sharing my tips, I want to encourage you to embrace your femininity but I never want to take away the things that make you special as a person. It’s not that black and white. With that being said, these are my best tips for looking feminine!

Fashion

When it comes to dressing feminine, dresses and skirts are more traditionally feminine so this will give you a very obvious feminine look. Personally, I love dresses and skirts that nip in the waist and flare out but honestly, go with a silhouette that is flattering on you and that you are comfortable with.

You can also look feminine without wearing dresses or skirts. In this case, just look for feminine details like ruffles, bows, pin-tucking, embellishments, etc. Look for more feminine fabrics like silk, chiffon, tulle, lace, tweed, etc. And of course, look for lighter colors, pastels, and traditionally feminine patterns like florals, polka dots and more.

Hygiene

Having proper hygiene is an important part of being more feminine. However, it doesn’t have to be excessive with an hour long skincare routine haha. Just a little effort in taking care of yourself goes a long way. If you are wondering how to make your face look more feminine naturally, I think that having a good skincare routine is a great place to start.

Personally I love to indulge in self-care and it’s a ritual that I set aside time for each day and week, no matter how busy I get. My bare minimum is a morning and night time skincare routine. If I have a bit more time, I love utilizing skincare tools like a steamer, facial roller or an anti-aging device like Nuface. At home spa days are also a win-win in my book! I love indulging in bubble baths, face masks, hair masks and DIY mani/pedis.

These are things that make me feel my best. You don’t have to dedicate as much time – just do little things that make you feel good. Even something as mundane as showering can become a luxurious experience! To make my showers more exciting, I use a shower radio, shower bombs (like bath bombs for your shower) and indulge in nice hair and body products.

This might seem obvious but brushing your teeth, washing your face and brushing your hair are super simple but go a long way appearance-wise (and health-wise). For clothing, I highly recommend using a steamer for a flawless look. Things like shaving, waxing and plucking also give off a more feminine look but like everything else, do what makes you feel most comfortable. Don’t feel the need to incorporate something that feels inauthentic to you.

Hair and Makeup

How to Make Your Face Look More Feminine Naturally

How can I make my face look feminine? This is a question that a lot of people ask! If you are wondering how to make your face look more feminine naturally, I recommend a great skincare routine, feminine makeup and a feminine hairstyle. Naturally feminine facial features tend to be softer, daintier and more rounded in nature. Even if you don’t have these features naturally, you can make your face look more feminine by utilizing makeup and the right hairstyle for your face.

Before proceeding, I do want to note that femininity can look different to different people. I’m a huge advocate of working with your natural features and bringing attention to your favorites! With that being said, read on for tips on how to have a more feminine face!

Makeup

Wondering how to make your face look more feminine? Doing your hair and makeup can really elevate your appearance and create a more feminine look overall. I’ve always loved wearing makeup – for some reason, it’s really relaxing to put on. I listen to music or podcasts and make it a thing 🙂 My makeup changes depending what I’m doing. I go all out with a full glam makeup look. For day to day, I prefer a lighter look with some BB cream, lipgloss and mascara. And for lazy days, I put on tinted sunscreen and call it a day.

For feminine looking makeup, I think it’s important to not go to overboard. It’s better to err on the safe side with more classic, timeless and natural looks. That’s not to say that you can’t have fun with colors or techniques – just use them in moderation. Put emphasis on one feature – your eyes or lips are a safe bet. Wear colors that suit your complexion and eye color. I personally love wearing pink-toned eye shadows to bring out my green eyes. Play up the features you love the most. I was always made fun of for my full lips when I was younger but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve grown to appreciate them and this is the feature I love to emphasize the most. You will hardly see me without some type of lip product on.

Hair

When it comes to how to make my face look more feminine, hair definitely helps! For hair, the most important thing is that it looks clean. Like makeup, feminine hair styling looks best when it’s more natural and simplistic. Embrace your natural hair for an effortless look or go the more polished route. I think that this will heavily depend on what you feel more comfortable with, what suits your face and features and what you realistically have time for.

Personally, I am very basic with my hair. 95% of the time, it’s down and curled. The other 5% of the time, I love creating simple ponytails, braids and half up styles. I love incorporating feminine hair accessories like barrettes, hair bows, ribbons, scarves and headbands. Hair accessories are not for everyone but they are fun to wear – give it a try if you’re feeling brave!

[foxholes]

15 questions for 15 (or so!) friends!

tagged by @euphcme!! ty cleo!!

are you named after anyone? nah, my parents just flipped through a baby book until they found a name they agreed on. i was close to being named taylor, but ultimately they decided against it because then my initials would be the same as my siblings and they wanted us to be easily distinguishable by just initials. for my middle name, which i won't say what it is cuz it's not a typical "middle name", my mom said she just chose one that was more traditional to kind of offset the more trendy first name. that way, if i grew up and didn't like how popular haley was, i could go by my middle name instead

when was the last time you cried? i have a goldfish memory so i have no idea, but it was surely this week and probably over something really dumb like i stubbed my toe or read a sad fanfic honestly.... it luckily Has Not Been That Serious for me lately (knock on wood), so no big reasons to cry and just silly ones and for this i am very grateful!!

do you have kids? i am not mentally stable or financially secure enough for a child rn, but i do think i might want them later on (esp if i find a loving partner who agrees). i personally think that, at 25, i am too young to have kids (i know people my age are parents, but it completely baffles and scares me), so it's not something i'm gonna put too much thought into until i'm in my 30s. 30 is also, coincidentally, the age i'll be when my iud expires (unless the fda approves it for longer), so i am fully Not Worrying About It Yet 😌 thats for future haley to hem and haw about. current haley is vibing with 0 responsibilities over other living breathing human beings

what sport do you play / have played? i have never actually played a sport... my parents made me try so many when i was a kid, but i would literally throw fits and scream until they let me quit. i did play recreational tennis for a little bit and i always want to go back to it cuz i still have the racquet, but i don't currently have anyone to play with!

do you use sarcasm? absolutely. it became a problem at work (reported to HR cuz someone thought i was serious), so i have to really try and contain myself in professional settings 🙃

what's the first thing you notice about people? hair! then style/fashion, demeanor, and general age range. if they're in my age range and i'm otherwise attracted to them, the very next thing i always check is their hands bc i lovveeeeeee hands (rings, tattoos, nail polish 🤍)

what's your eye color? like a denim blue/gray with green/gold/hazel central heterochromia (prev also has CH which is very cool, hey twin!)

scary movies or happy endings? 90% of all media i consume has a happy ending and i rarely watch scary movies except at halloween, so happy endings!! give me that HEA or give me death!!!!

any talents? oversharing and never shutting the fuck up or being able to read a room 🤍 no but fr, i can play the flute if i choose to (which i rarely do bc i live in an apartment and do not want my neighbors to Crucify Me). i also embroider/cross stitch, but that may be more of a hobby? i do write very well, and i love it so so so much, but finding motivation and time is nearly impossible for me lately. i have absolutely been having a quarter life crisis about the fact that i am neglecting almost every creative outlet in my life due to burnout - would love to get back to it and learn how to sew since i need to learn how to alter my clothing as off-the-rack does not fit nor flatter my body... tall chubby girl problems frfr

where were you born? take a map of the usa, put a pin in a place you would never want to go, and you're probably semi-close!

what are your hobbies? reading and listening to music are the biggies. if i have any downtime at all, i will usually be reading. i cancelled all my streaming services bc i literally was not using them since i'm always reading instead... libby app and my kindle are my beloveds 🤍 and for music, i literally netted like... 190,000+ minutes on my spotify wrapped last yr bc the only times im NOT listening to music are when im sleeping or if im doing something that prevents me from listening to music (like a meeting at work where i have to actively participate). i also like to build lego sets! but i don't have room for any more of them tbh my apartment is FULL up on stuff since it's soooo tiny and i took in a lot of my grandma's stuff after she died since i couldn't bear parting with it, so i have 0 room now. next time i want to build one, i'll just have to take apart and then redo one instead of get a new one

do you have any pets? unfortunately no, but i would love a cat! a little afraid to get one for two reasons tho. 1) i have never Had a pet before and am afraid of doing wrong by the little baby, and 2) i Was attacked by a cat a few years ago and am still a little afraid of them. i have a friend whose cat is VERY aggressive (lots of biting, scratching, jumping on and attacking them) and i would not do well with a cat like that and would want a more mellow cat (they can playfight with me occasionally of course, but i could not deal with the near-constant attacking my friend endures. it would absolutely freak me out). but, since you can't really know a cats personality until you get them home and acclimated to the new environment and owner, there's no guarantee i wouldn't get a cat i'd be afraid of, so i've held off on adopting for now. i keep hoping i will get blessed by the cat distribution system and they will give me a cat they know will mesh with me, since i know cats like that exist. my siblings cat is literally the sweetest baby and has never hurt, scratched, bit, or attacked them before and just snuggles or ignores them and that is the kind of cat i would need. @ the universe..... please....

how tall are you? 5'8.5/174cm almost exactly. if i'm talking to a man, i round down and tell him i'm 5'8 but if i'm talking to a woman i round up and say i'm 5'9 (gotta impress the ladies with my height, gotta humble the 5'10 man who said he's 6'0 and is now upset he's so close in height to me when i'm 5'8)

favorite subject in school? english, science, and history! but i was a total nerd and loved every class tbh

dream job? novel writer! but writing is so difficult for me lately since my job is so draining of all my time and mental energy that even when i have free time, i can't bring myself to do anything other than rot or read and listen to music. but, i can't quit my job to write bc i cant afford to live w/o my job, so for the time being, my bestselling debut novel that will get a movie deal and change my life for the better, making me vastly wealthy and enabling me to continue writing at my leisure, is still stuck inside my head

I truly cannot think of 15 people to tag in this cuz it is very, very late and i am very, very tired but i will tag.... 3 people rn and edit it if i think of more later!! no hard feelings if you don't want to do this, but i'd love to read your responses if you do 🤍

@lastparty @ratatouiile @lvagirl

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Pumpkin Painting / Painting A Pumpkin 🖌️ 🎨 🎃 ✨

(Story was inspired by this and is based off of these written pieces here and here as well as these au headcanons by @livvychoclate)

"Mom, mom!" Luz beamed to her mother with hands behind her back.

Paint was present on the teen's clothes, arms, and cheeks.

"Ready to see my pumpkiny masterpiece?" she asked with a grin.

Camila nodded with a smile. "Ready," she replied.

"Okay then... BEHOLD!" Luz began before quickly revealing the scrumptious-looking surprise she had crafted - it was a caramel apple painted pumpkin!

A dowel stuck out of where the stem once was and the pumpkin was painted a Granny Smith-esque green with the bottom being a golden caramel color.

The non-edible fall treat was displayed in a large, industrial-size coffee filter.

"Ta-da! Whatcha think, Mom?"

"Luz, it looks amazing!" Camila gave her creative daughter a cheery compliment. "You're so talented!"

Luz giggled lightly at the praise. "Thanks, mom! I painted it for Amity since she's my sweet little caramel apple!"

The teen gushed with glee at the thought of her awesome girlfriend.

Camila chuckled, raising a playful eyebrow at Luz. "I thought she was your sweet little batata."

Luz laughed. "Yeah, well, she's both. I just hope she likes it."

"She'll love it," Camila would kindly reassure.

"Thanks, Mom. How's your pumpkin?" Luz suddenly gasped, excitement shining in her browns eyes. "Can I see it?"

"You can, but..." Camila pulled out her pumpkin, feeling a bit embarrassed by it.

"It's not exactly the prettiest," She admitted with a small nervous laugh.

Crooked red hearts were painted on her pumpkin.

"Mamá, what are you talking about?!" An enthusiastic Luz exclaimed.

"Your pumpkin is so, so, CUTE and so, so PRETTY! I love the little hearts! They look absolutely lovely!"

"Aww, Luz, you really mean it?" Camila giggled, flattered by the praise.

Luz swiftly nods her head. "I do!"

"Thank you." Camila wasn't an artist like Luz or Philip, so the compliment was well-appreciated.

Speaking of her bearded beloved, her eyes shifted to see him and their youngest daughter painting their pumpkins together.

She smiled softly at the innocent interaction.

"Papá, papá!" A five-year-old Alma said to her father with a cheerful smile.

"Are you almost finished painting your pumpkin?" She asked him, applying some paint to hers.

Philip nodded. "Almost," He told his daughter with a smile as he continued to work on his.

"I just need to add a bit of black there aaand done! Would you like to see it?"

"Yes please!" Alma was so excited to see the pumpkin.

Picking up the pumpkin, Philip turns it around before setting it down, revealing his painting on the other side.

"Ooo, horsies!" Alma squealed excitedly. "There are so many of them!"

Philip's painting depicted a detailed horse stable.

"That's right," He chuckled. "As a child, my brother would regularly take me to the horse stables. May I have a look at your pumpkin now?"

"Mm-hmm!" Alma hummed as she put her paint brush down and showed off her pumpkin.

"It's a cat face! And look!"

She pulls out a headband that has cat ears and places it on top of the pumpkin. "Ta-da! It now has ears!"

Philip chuckles a second time.

"How unique." He complimented her sincerely.

[3amandimstillawake]

I'd like to write a sort of love letter to my friends.

It's often so easy to feel like i actually have any weight in anyone's life. but i do. i do, and it shows when one of my friends let me know im the only person she's told her mom about. it shows when she says if her life was a show, I would be one of the favorite characters of the audience. it shows when one of friends say that tiger lilies remind her of me because they look so fierce and bright, just like how I am. it shows when she takes a candid photo of my side profile and flatters the hell out of me saying how pretty and photogenic I am, even tho I've never felt that way, and when she showed me the photo, i believed her, and i saw how i was beautiful in it because it was a photo taken with so much love. it shows when one of my friends say I am made of sunshine. it shows when she says she's blown by admiration for me and says I'm smart, I'm confident, and I'm talented. it shows when she comes back from vacation with gifts for all our friends, and she gets the same white & gold earrings for everyone, but gets a brilliant, glowing navy blue & gold one for me, because she said as soon as she saw those earrings she was reminded of me, that they'd suit no one better than me because they have a color as bold as me. it shows when i spend every class with one of my friends always, always holding hands with her, to the point where some people think its in a romantic way, but I only laugh to myself because of how many people miss the simple and beautiful romance that is present in all friendships. it shows when multiple of my friends would start calling me relentlessly any day I dont go to school because why the hell am i not there? it shows when my friends make a mini vlog for me at school on the day im sick and absent so I can feel what i missed. it shows when any one of my friends randomly text me to tell me something about their lives, to discuss something they are passionate about with me, to ask me for advice or help on anything because they trust me. it shows when they make me feel good about myself, even tho i think i dont deserve to feel so unless i am constantly performing at my best 24/7. it shows when they think of me and include me into important events in their lives even tho they've not known me very long. it shows in so many little ways, and with burdening big feelings of self pity, i happen to so easily forget the accumulation of all these little moments. but they mean so much. even when i feel incredibly out of it, even when i feel lonely and want to be swallowed up by the earth, being around these people reminds me i do belong to a world bigger than the one i created in my head. that i am significant in people's lives, that people love me even though I'm not perfect, and they love me without condition. my heart is so filled with love with these people that i could cry happy tears for once. i love them all in a million little ways, just as they love me in a million more. they want me to be a part of their lives, and many times an important part as well, and as someone who has spent most of her life feeling excluded and detached from everyone, it means a bunch to me. yes, i will still likely feel overcome with a different, strange kind of sadness at almost every turn of my life, but despite that empty feeling, in fact even with the existence of these depressive moments, this goodness exists in the form of all these amazing, beautiful people I've met. and i hope all of them end up living the happiest version of their lives, because it is precisely what they deserve.

Thank you for existing in this time of my life, for giving me rich and lovely experiences that will mark my ending teenage years. you have made many months worth the exhaustion and struggles of living when i get to experience those moments of happiness with you. regardless how often i speak to each of you, regardless of whether or not our paths will keep going in the same direction after we're done with school, I will hold a terrific amount of love in my heart for you.

[helenaheissner]

Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 19

Kate

“You ready for this?” I asked Faith.

“As I’ll ever be,” Faith replied. 

“My makeup looks okay?” 

“I did it myself, didn’t I?” she said. 

“Good point. Of course it’s perfect,” I said. 

“Heh. Flatterer.”

“Never been called that before,” I said, raking a hand through my hair, noticing some split ends. I should get it cut soon… Or get it done soon, I suppose. I guess it was time for me to figure out the difference. I’d been going to barbers once a year all my life and asking for the bare minimum to be trimmed and promptly didn’t think about my hair after that. Now… Now that seemed like a terrible idea, and one I couldn’t believe I’d been indulging for as long as I had. I should try something new with it- Mom had mentioned her stylist was a miracle worker with something called ‘layering.’ I’d have to look up what that actually meant, but if it could make me look girlier it must’ve been a good thing. And maybe a new color, too; the platinum blonde looked great on Mom, and everyone had always told me I’d taken after her in the looks department, so maybe it’d look good on me too. 

“I’ll admit, that’s not terribly surprising,” Faith said, unbuckling her seatbelt in the shotgun of my truck, checking her own hair for split ends. Lucky girl had perfect hair- it was so unfair, she probably woke up with it looking that good. 

“Hey now,” I said, poking her cheek. 

She playfully swatted my finger away and raised an eyebrow. 

“Okay, fair enough, I walked into that one,” I said. “Also, it’s pretty accurate.”

“Yes,” she said. “Just like ‘flatterer’ is accurate for who you are now.”

“And like how ‘gorgeous supermodel’ is accurate for who you are now?” I said. 

Her jaw dropped, and I couldn’t help but picture her thought process as being a hamster running on its wheel. She broke off eye contact, and I started giggling. “That’s so not fair!” she said, finally giggling back. 

“It’s the truth, is what it is!” I said, poking her in the cheek again. 

“How dare you,” she said. 

“How indeed,” I said, winking at her. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” she said, opening the passenger side door. 

We both walked into Gaines’ Auto Body and Bodybuilding kitted out in our respective favorite sundresses: mine was pink with shirt-sleeves and white polka dots, hers was a sleeveless black number with gold stripes. I grabbed her arm and held her tight as we walked through the gym towards the back office, and whispered, “Just ignore them,” when I saw her eyes go wide with fear at all the huge dudes staring at her for various reasons. 

Nadine was waiting for us inside her office when we got there. “Hey, girl! And other girl! You must be Faith Watanabe!”

“I am she,” Faith nodded. 

“Kate’s told me all about you.”

“Oh?” Faith said, looking at the floor. 

“Good stuff, I promise,” I said, patting her on the back. 

“I just wanna start by saying you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Nadine said. 

“I want to,” Faith said. “I think Kate’s idea is good. And if Gaines is as much of a tool as you make him sound like-”

“He is,” Kate said. 

“He VERY MUCH is,” Nadine nodded. 

“Then forcing his hand doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world,” Faith said. 

“I couldn’t agree more,” I said. 

Nadine spent a few minutes adjusting the lighting in her office, then set us up for our photoshoot. It took about an hour, but when it was over, we had a full roll of pictures ready for social media to announce both my own friendship with my former arch-rival and Gaines’ public support of the trans community. Eric Gaines’ may have been a cynical asshole, but if I could use the implements at my disposal to push him into being more publicly trans-friendly, then I’d be doing myself (and probably other people as well) a favor. Nadine also had a whole ‘women in STEM’ angle she wanted to try pushing, but she mentioned that it would be better to wait until the finals tournament started to go for that. 

Of course, any of this working out long-term was contingent on me continuing to win. 

No pressure or anything.  

The shoot went by relatively quickly, and after that Faith and I decided to get a late lunch. She guided us to a ramen shop on Sawtelle Boulevard in Culver City, and after about forty minutes of waiting and parsing through anime merch shops, we were seated at a long bar table around the kitchen watching our soup and noodles prepared for it. Salt and pork and chicken and spice and seaweed scents all mixed together into a tantalizing symphony of aromas. 

My pork miso ramen and Faith’s chicken shoyu were placed in bowls in front of us, and Faith pressed cloves of garlic into both our bowls. I dug in with my chopsticks and took in a mouthful of spicy ground pork and red broth. “Mmmmm,” I groaned. 

“Good stuff, right?” Faith said, swallowing her own food. 

“Soooo good! How did you find this place?”

“Olivia took me here on our first date,” Faith said, smiling wistfully while looking at nothing in particular. 

… Until a moment passed, and suddenly she was smiling wistfully while looking very clearly at me. 

I shifted in my seat and broke off eye contact as Faith sipped from her glass of water, leaving a red lipstick stain on the rim as she stared longingly into my eyes. A hundred million thoughts all went through my mind at different speeds and in opposite directions, but chief among them was ‘you have a boyfriend, you have a boyfriend, you have an incredibly handsome and charming and supportive boyfriend.’

Did I miss something? When did this happen?! This made no damn sense- everything about Faith Watanabe had always been confusing, and now that was even more true than ever! 

Okay, let’s think about this- Zeke hadn’t said anything about this, and he told me everything so I didn’t think he was holding out on me. I was… Resigned to the idea that he might want to leave me for Faith, even if it would feel like my heart getting surgically removed without anesthesia. Faith was here first, had liked him longer, knew him better, could probably make him happier, and was way, way, WAY hotter than me. Dancing with her the other night had been fun, and dancing with her and Zeke had been REALLY fun, and I really liked spending time with her, and I really REALLY liked spending time with both of them… But I didn’t want to make Faith into a third wheel, and I was aware that I might wind up being the third wheel if he dumped me for her… 

UGH! This was so confusing! Why did nothing make sense!? Why did I have to be so freaking stupid?!

That was when I noticed Faith waving her hand in front of my face. 

“Gah!” I said, my slumped posture suddenly straightening. 

“You okay?” she asked. “You kinda… Went away for a minute there.”

“I, uh, well, you see,” I stammered, struggling to make eye contact. “You… I… How are things with you and Zeke?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” she smirked. 

“I mean, it’s a relevant question for both of us,” I said. 

“That’s true,” she said. 

“After the other night, after we all danced together,” I said, “Did things go back to normal between you two? Did you talk at all about what happened? Are you guys okay?”

“To answer your questions in reverse order,” Faith said, “We’re okay. We haven’t talked about what happened. And I don’t know that things will ever really go back to normal per se, now that the cat’s out of the bag.”

“That… That makes sense,” I said, gulping down a mouthful of noodles and meat. “I just mean… What do you think is gonna happen between you guys?”

“I don’t really think that’s up to me,” Faith said, stirring her soup with her chopsticks. “It’s up to him. And you.”

“What… What do you mean by that?”

“I mean…,” she started, “I mean that I know what you were thinking, when you got me to confess to him. You thought he would leave you for me. Because you think you still aren’t done apologizing for being a jerk to me. But the reality, my dear Katie-”

I blinked with the rapidity of a machine gun open-firing. “‘My dear?’” 

“- is that I was just as much of a jerk to you, and I don’t think I’m done apologizing yet. You, however, have more than made up for everything. I really like the person you’ve become. Or maybe it’s just the person you’ve always been, whom I was just too dumb to see,” Faith said. She reached across the table and put her hand over mine. 

My brain was short-circuiting, and I dared not open my mouth for fear of stuttering at a million miles per hour. This wasn’t happening, there was literally no way this was happening-

“I like you,” Faith said. “And I like Zeke. I like you both the same way, even if it feels different with each of you. And I know you and Zeke have a good thing going, and I don’t wanna get in the way of it. I want you both to be happy. But you… You taught me to be brave, Katie Calloway. I mean that- you’re the bravest person I know. You see something you want and you go right for it. I want to be more like that, more like you in that way. And I gotta start somewhere. So I’m starting here and now, with you. Not leaving anything unsaid.”

A feeling surged through me, like I was being lowered into a hot spring after running a marathon, my aching limbs and throbbing heart finding relief and bliss and comfort. My mouth opened and closed, and Faith put a single finger over my lips. “You don’t have to respond right now. You can think about it, about how you feel about me, about what you want to do with this. I’m throwing a lot at you, I know.”

“D-does Zeke know you like me too?” I said, trying to focus on anything other than the finger hovering on the borders of my mouth.

“No,” Faith said, taking her slim, delicate digit off of my lips, to my relief and my chagrin. “I was gonna talk to him about it after the Gregson fight. He doesn’t need the distraction right now.”

“That’s fair,” I said, trying to keep my brain from melting out my ears. “Do you want me not to say anything?”

“I don’t think that’s up to me,” Faith said with a nonchalant shrug. “He’s your boyfriend, it’s your call whether or not you tell him about this conversation.”

“But what do you want me to say?” I said, staring into my bowl of food. “W-what do you want out of this? What’s your ideal outcome?”

She bit her lower lip a moment, then said, “I had a lot of fun dancing with the both of you the other night. If we could all keep doing that together, I think… I think that would make me really happy. But if that’s not what you want, or not what he wants, I’ll back off. Mostly… I just want you both to be happy.”

I gulped. “O-okay. I need to… I’ll take you up on your offer to let this marinate for a few days, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” she said, cupping my cheek and brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. I struggled not to release a sapphic moan there and then. “Food is on me today, yeah?”

I nodded. 

This was… This was a lot to take in. I couldn’t even believe it was happening, and yet… 

And yet here I was. So very blessed.

***

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[scrivellc]

Jason let himself be comforted, but the familiar warmth of his mother's touch could only soothe so much. He believed every word that she said, that things with his father had been difficult. But it didn't silence the nagging voice in the back of his head that still wanted to know him. The portrait his mother was painting wasn't flattering, and the thought that anyone had ever made his mom feel like that made his blood boil, but that same person was also a big part of who he was. He knew he shouldn't have been, but when his mother said that this was better, that things as they were was what was best for everyone, Jason couldn't stop from feeling defensive. He never knew the man, and he never would, and somehow he was supposed to believe that this really was better? Maybe for his parents, maybe for his little siblings, but surely it was more complicated for his father and by extension for him? The biggest thing he'd left behind. "I...guess so, I'm glad you and dad are happy, but I...is it really better that my real dad is de....not around anymore?" He felt some color rise in his cheeks, almost immediately ashamed of asking such a thing. "I mean...not real dad. I just meant...I don't know."

How could he say something like that? To his own mom! When she was already so clearly upset, but between not telling him about his father for years and now to imply that him dying was best for everyone Jason could feel an unhappy wedge pushing between them. He didn't want his mom to be unhappy, and he loved his dad so much, but his mind was struggling to not take it all personally no matter how much his mom insisted this wasn't about him. How could it not be! This was his biological father they were talking about. They were linked whether his mom wanted to acknowledge it or not.

"I'm sorry, mom, I'm not mad...well, I'm a little mad, but I just..." Jason sighed, wishing his voice wasn't shaking so much as it was. He pulled his hands into his lap. "I wish there was something of him left. I trust you, but...I wish I could figure out how I feel about him myself."

Audrey smiled a little at Jason’s surprise, remembering her own surprise when she had first met Orin. She even laughed a bit as Jason continued, “Oh your father was very pleased with his profession, and he made sure everybody knew it,” Her smile faltered a bit as different memories resurfaced. She remembered the things he’d make her say or do in the name of his ‘profession’. She wished that it didn’t have to be so double sided, she wished it could all be as innocent as Jason’s initial thoughts. “Yes, he was very clever, and he knew how to use all that to his advantage,” Audrey’s heart sank as she saw Jason’s expression become downturned. She had known that this wasn’t going to be an entirely pleasant conversation and she had tried to prepare herself, but despite that she hated seeing her baby look so defeated. She leaned forward, taking his hands in hers. She squeezed them tightly and nodded, “It’s..It’s hard to revisit that time. And even now I-I’m still afraid sometimes. It's hard to completely break free from a situation like that, even all these years later.” She looked down at their hands as a wave of her own guilt crashed over her. She traced the insides of Jason’s palms and fingers the way she had when he was little, simultaneously comforting him and herself. “But that’s not an excuse for not telling you sooner. We should’ve-I should’ve told you earlier,” She slowly brought her eyes up to meet his, “And I’m sorry I didn’t,” She said genuinely, wrapping her hands around his and squeezing them again. “I don’t want to go into detail, but I need you to know that things are better this way. And like I said earlier, none of this has anything to do with you,” Audrey could feel a lump gathering in her throat and she tried not to let herself get too overcome with emotion.

“And I could answer some questions about that time,” She continued, “The what’s, the when’s, and the how’s…But I can’t answer the whys. Sometimes we don’t know why people are the way they are,” Audrey’s eyes grew glassy, but she persisted nonetheless, “But I don’t believe people are born bad. Somethin’s gotta happen along the way, and that’s unfortunate. Not everyone grows up out here. Your father didn’t…I didn’t, and dad–Seymour–didn’t. Seymour and I..we just got lucky. And I’m sorry it wasn’t like that for your father. And I’m sorry that he never got the chance to change,” A single tear slipped down her cheek as a slideshow of memories played through her mind, “But the things he did weren’t good things, and that can’t be ignored.”

[simpforboys]

in a field of flowers

she/her pronouns

summary: medieval!au, when y/n is forced to be in an arranged marriage, her only escape is vinnie.

warnings: vinnie is a servant, reader is a princess, some angst, fluff, swearing, arranged marriage, toxic parents and household, some blood

this is inspired by an episode story i read a long time ago😭

y/n often found herself wishing she could live as those in lower rank.

no expectations, reputation to hold… just a chance to be happy with who they choose.

and today was like no other. well… other then the news y/n received.

“miss y/n?” a handmaiden knocked on her bedroom door.

the sleeping girl nudged slightly. soft snores escaped her mouth and drool hit her pillow.

“y/n!” her mother’s high pitched voice suddenly woke the girl up as she swatted her with her hand-fan that was gifted from the last suitor’s mother.

“ah!” y/n yelped as she sat up, her heart pounding from the intrusion of her slumber.

“we have a guest coming soon. look presentable instantly,” her mother instructed before she walked out of the room.

y/n rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes as the handmaidens came sashaying in.

“do any of you know who the guest is?” y/n asked as the servants began working on her hair and sorting out her dress.

“i believe it’s another suitor.” maribel, the handmaiden closest to y/n, spoke.

y/n nearly choked on her spit. in a coughing fit, one of the ladies rushed to get her a glass of water.

“another?” y/n coughed anxiously.

“well- you are the only (l/n) sister to not be wedded.”

what amelia said was true. y/n was the youngest of the (l/n) family, a long line of royal lineage. she had four sisters and they were all helping their husbands rule their own countries.

y/n had met suitors from france, great britian, and prussia, but none of them had ever caught her attention, frankly because it lied elsewhere.

-

“i cannot marry him, vinnie!” y/n paced back and forth as they stood in vinnie’s own little hut ways away back in the forest.

her lavender dress swayed with every step. vinnie approached her, his beautiful eyes locking themselves on her frame.

“you’re going to be alright, my precious angel.”

“he- he’s vile and cruel and he is a two faced roach! one moment he’s flattering my mother and the next he’s-“

vinnie’s strong arms wrapped around y/n’s body as she sunk herself into him. his bandaged hands slid up and down her biceps in an attempt to soothe her.

vinnie knew all too well of what had happened because he watched it all play out.

-

y/n’s hands were tucked away behind her back as she stood with her mother and father. the duke of spain stood before them, his black hair slicked back with bright yellow and red colors standing proud on his coat.

“welcome, it is so lovely to meet your acquaintance,” y/n’s mother bowed to the duke. y/n followed her mum’s actions as she watched duke joaquín charm her father.

“wipe that look off your face,” her mom nudged her slightly. y/n hadn’t noticed how her face twisted in disgust. the four all approached the dining room.

vinnie worked with the horses but sometimes helped in the castle with the cooking. while he was well aware of most of the girls infatuation with him, he paid no attention to them.

when y/n first saw vinnie she couldn’t help but let herself be absolutely smitten by him. his beautiful curls, glowing features, sharp jawline and the tattoos that coated his skin. something about him seemed so… bad. and y/n was drawn to him.

vinnie’s heart practically skipped a beat when he saw y/n seated at the dining room table. only she has ever had that effect on him, the one that made his tummy erupt in butterflies.

their secret affair had been going on for at least four months. vinnie had never known what love was, his mother died in childbirth and he never met his father. but when y/n shot him sassy yet flirtatious remarks to his witty ones, he knew that their personalities were synced. it was as if they were one soul split between two bodies.

he served the royal family their first course to which they all mumbled thank yous. vinnie paid no mind, he was too busy watching y/n. she looked absolutely disinterested as duke joaquín boasted about his achievements and wars he has won.

vinnie often found himself wishing he was higher rank. the life he could promise y/n, a way to properly support her and a chance for them to be together publicly.

he wanted nothing more in his life then to be able to be the best partner for y/n, because he’s never loved anyone like this before.

y/n flashed him a small smile as he exited to the kitchen. after the royal family finished their courses and meals, vinnie stood in a hallway (cleaning a gifted china vase- not ease-dropping).

“i think we should leave the two alone,” the queen spoke up.

“of course, dear,” the king agreed as the royal couple tangled their arms together and walked out of the dining room.

vinnie’s whole body shifted when he heard duke joaquín speaking in a low-toned voice to y/n.

“you better accept my proposal, or else i will ruin you and your prissy family.”

blood rushed through vinnie’s veins and it felt as if smoke was gushing out his ears. all he wanted to do was go beat the man to a bloody pulp-

“vincent?” another servant asked. vinnie and the man got along exceptionally well, maybe even close friends status. he was named joseph.

vinnie hadn’t noticed the now broken vase in his blooded hands. he hadn’t even heard the shatter, too lost in his own anger.

-

“i want to run away, vinnie. i cannot live this disheartening life anymore- i refuse!” y/n ranted on.

“allow me to take you somewhere, my princess?” vinnie asked.

y/n let out a slow nod. vinnie delicately grabbed her hand as their interlocked fingers.

he lead her to their place- the place where there was no titles, expectations, rules. a place where it was two souls allowed to love.

a giant field of flowers that overlooked the extravagant castle in the distance. all sorts of flowers occupied the land with a small stream of water being the only noise heard for miles.

vinnie let out a deep breath. he watched the way y/n’s dress flowed in the wind, her beautiful skin glowed in the sunlight. he couldn’t wait any longer.

“my princess?”

y/n looked back at vinnie to see the man on one knee. she let out a gasp as he grabbed her hand so delicately, something he always did. it was if she was glass and he was afraid to break her with a strong grip. she loved that about him.

“i’ve been infatuated with you from the moment i laid my eyes upon you. you’re extremely beautiful, y/n, but your mind is what is so pleasing to my soul. the way you never doubt speaking up about actions and decisions and your astonishing personality has got me in a trance. i know i cannot promise you a good life- i know i cannot promise you what all the dukes can- but i can promise you that i will love you unconditionally as long as my heart shall beat. will you do me the biggest honor, and take me as your husband?”

y/n knew tears were rolling down her cheeks but she didn’t care.

“yes! oh my goodness- yes,” y/n pressed passionate and gentle kisses to vinnie’s plump lips.

she loved him and believed she wouldn’t love anyone else as much as she loved vincent.

the newly engaged couple laid down on the grass, cuddled up against one another. the day went from being atrocious to outstanding within a few hours.

y/n was with her fiancé, in their spot, without a single thought in their mind. because in the field of flowers, they were allowed to be free.

[cowboyjen68]

What are your thoughts on gender neutral parenting?

This is the question I have next up. I have 30 minutes before I need to be on the Farm making kettle korn after a long, hot day yesterday of landscaping for a little side money. So here is goes My parents raised me in a sort of gender neutral way.. without awareness of it. This we the late 60's and early 70's. I still was praised for being "pretty in a dress" and told to smile because "I have such a pretty one". My mom wanted me to get perms and she always, always said when I was leaving to go anywhere, "don't be loud." (As a youngster I was very loud and outgoing. I tamed a bit as I got older, pretended I was shy so I didn't have to hide being a lesbian so hard.. just stay in the background.) But they also encouraged me to play with whatever I loved, to run around out side “GO OUTSIDE!!”, to be very independent, often riding my horses for hours without contact. They gave me chores from helping in the kitchen to cleaning the garage. They didn’t quell my passion for being rough and tumble AT HOME... in public mom tried a little harder to get me to settle and be more passive. They mostly let me dress in what I wanted except for fancy occasions like weddings and out to dinner with Uncle Jerry from Chicago. They did not force gendered things on me all the time for two main reasons. My sister (who is straight) was very independent and head strong. She did what she wanted and they figured I would too. AND my siblings were 17, 20 and 23 years OLDER than me. They were tired. They were over it. So they didn’t fight me on what I liked. (And dad was HAPPY to have help on the acreage since they moved there on my behalf to get horses and let me be more wild). When I told my mom, at 12, I wanted to be a boy she told me I did not (colorful description of why not... and not flattering to the male body) then said "what do you really want". I wanted to do what boys did. So she said "do it.. talk to your father". I did. He had been bypassing me in favor of the neighbor boys on manual labor since I was 9. He thought I was not interested. From then on, chainsaw, mowing, (not just the easy parts) hay, oil changes, and such. When he was dying he told me to take his belt, "good leather last you a life time and you pass it to your kids" and he made sure I got his "wedding suit". A brown 1970's 3 piece JC Penny suit that he wore for every "suit" occasion since he retired in the late 80's. He said I would look good in it. Mom was way more into making sure I followed the rules of my sex and the gender society applied to that. She was concerned I would not fit in, would have a hard time, or be bullied for not conforming to the expectations of females. Women=feminine. Which is odd considering she played softball, was known to be very bold and outspoken (there are stories worth telling there). She bowled, always worked full time and managed the financials of the house. She shared cooking with dad. Her worry came from a mom knowing her kid was different and if she could lesson that "oddity" she could protect me. OF course.. a butch in a dress is still a butch and everyone who can see knows it. So gender neutral parenting. It is a great theory. It should be a thing. When I say gender I mean the set of stereotypes and societal expectations placed on us because of our sex. The engrained response to gender is little girls get pink and teddy bears and little boys get blue and trucks. Most parents don't even realize (there have been studies) that they do it. They tell a little girl in boys clothes "you are so strong and tough" and a little boy in a dress "aren't you just precious and pretty... boys will love you". They are using visually gendered clues to determine the sex and therefore the gender and ROLES this child is supposed to abide by. Not just abide by but thrive on. Praise for following the rules. And kids figure that out very quickly. Little girls stop trying "hard or dirty" tasks and little boys stop being tender with a doll or each other because they don't earn praise for those behaviors. Unfortunately no matter how perfectly neutral a parent (or family) is the world exists. Day care, the park, grandparents, cousins and on and on also affect this child's view of themselves in the world. Gender Neutral purity can be dangerous. You child will get into the real world and be hit with reality. We are expected to follow certain rules based on our sex and not doing so can cause issues at school, jobs, summer camps etc if that child does not have an idea about what is happening. Gender awareness parenting is much more important once the child is past the stage of being only with mom and dad. Actively speaking to your son about the benefits of dolls (sesame street has a short clip about this and IT IS STILL amazing). Speaking to your daughter about what she loves and encouraging that. If a little girl loves pink and dolls GO FOR IT> Parenting is NOT and never should be a political statement. DO NOT use your chld to prove your wokeness on gender. If your little boy likes motorcycles and buzz cuts don’t make him grow long hair and ride a pink bike because “color is not gendered” Kids should be encouraged to love and pursue what they love not what their parents want or think they shouldwant  in order to make a statement. I am going to repeat that. Kids should never be a statement of their parent’s political wokeness. Kids are people.. they deserve to love what they are passionate about. THAT Is the core idea behind gender neutral parenting.  You can’t send your kid, unarmed and unaware in to a world still very flush with gendered jobs, clothes, actions, hobbies etc based on their sex and expect them to just blindly power through. Actively educating kids to understand gender expectations and empowering them to do as they please is parenting at it’s finest. A child kept in the dark about the reality of the bad effects gender roles has on each one of us can be dangerous. They need to be actively involved in making decisions to keep themselves safe, to understand why gender exists and to let them choose when and where to push back.