#and she talked about all the social work she and her workers have done so far

[cator99]

I always get detained at da border because PROFUNC never ended but basically I'm like if a targeted individual didn't even care

[marblecakemix]

I fucking love women!

Today I went to [insert city] women's health congers and it was the most amazing thing I've ever come to. No man was talking on the panels, there were no male doctors, all made for women by women and all of them were so based. It felt like home it was so empowering to hear that "I'm proud to be a woman and all of you girls should be too!" It was so nice to learn that there are so many women in my city who think the same as me.

There were classes on sex ed exclusively for women, childbearing and sterility, women's health after menopause, and more. You could go and get yourself checked for free and have breast Ultrasound to see if you have breast cancer. We broke last year's record in breast self-examination and every woman got a little cute gift after that. But most importantly we were all together and we were celebrating our diverse femininity.

I made some friends too, it was great!

[lxvvie]

Couples Shit with Simon Riley, Stay at Home Missus Edition:

Simon Riley is a SAHM (stay-at-home missus). Yes, he's fine with it. Yes, you're fine with it. No, taking care of Beanie and the house is not bloody hard. Yes, he enjoys it, even when Beanie wakes him up at the asscrack of dawn to play Princess Daddy Bandit Heeler. No, it's not babysitting, it's called being her FATHER, and no, it's not emasculating what Simon does, it's called being a MISSUS and taking care of his family. What the fuck?

You and Simon are a team, a well-oiled machine playing the game of life on your own terms, and while what you do may not work for others, it works for you two and you're all the happier for it. Plus, it's adorable how much Beanie has Simon wrapped around her finger.

Simon's an organized fellow. Keeps a checklist of things to do around the house, things pertaining to Beanie, etc. Nothing he can't handle. He likes working with his hands.

And speaking of Beanie, she is your alarm clock. Once she's up, the whole house is up preparing for the day. You're usually sleepily trailing behind Simon into the kitchen. At the same time, Beanie sits comfortably on Simon's shoulders and lives her best Queen Bean life like she should, happily talking your ears off about everything on her mind.

Beanie turns getting ready for the day into a family affair, especially when she goes to nursery (she doesn't go all week, only a couple days to get her acclimated to a school setting and to socialize), and she wants to look her absolute best. You two help her get ready and all's well until you and Beanie decide that Daddy should be twinsies with his baby girl. Oh... bloody fuckin' hell. And so he does—matching shirts—and he's on official Princess Daddy Security duty.

Lunch? Already packed and ready to go. And like clockwork, you forget yours. And like clockwork, Simon has to drop it off to you after he drops Beanie off.

Though Simon in general doesn't have two fucks to give, he's all too aware of the stares he gets when he's with Beanie. Some wariness, a little bit of fear, and some... interest? When he drops her off at daycare, takes her to the playground, takes her on playdates with her friends, or is at the store getting groceries, he gets stares. What, they've never seen a man on Princess Daddy security duty before? The shock value and looks on their faces are worth it all, especially when Beanie is screaming-laughing "Daddy!" as Simon hoists her over his shoulders.

But if he isn't getting stares when he's out with Beanie, he gets stares from your co-workers. Your co-workers who STILL can't believe he's the missus. Your co-workers who can't believe he's the one who keeps the house while you work. You make it a point to kiss him every time he drops your lunch off, right in front of your co-workers, before staring at them pointedly. And Simon, your MISSUS, chuckles every time.

Grocery runs with Beanie is an adventure all its own. The Queen has to give her approval and it's his daughter's world after all. "What do you think, Beanie?" She contemplates a little before nodding and going, "That one!" 'cause Rileyland has to have the best food after all. And then they go to the bakery. They keep it a secret—"Pinky promise, Beanie." "Pinky promise!"—from you. Rileyland has to have the best sweets after all.

When you come home, you're greeted by the Queen Bean herself who's helping Daddy make dinner. Your usual greeting is to hug him from behind and just hold him. Your husband, your missus, the bedrock who gets shit done, and supports you and your daughter with everything in him. You couldn't ask for a better partner.

After a hearty dinner complete with Beanie talking about her day, cleaning up, packing your lunch for tomorrow, and taking your evening bath, you three usually wind up on the couch. Everyone is pilled on Simon and just... being. Relaxing. Well, you and Simon are relaxing and Beanie is fighting sleep and trying to convince you both to get a dog because her friends have dogs. Yeah. Just another day in the Riley household.

[archangeldyke-all]

I miss CEO Sevika :(

What about Reader and Sevika going to...idk a dinner party/charity event with multiple companies in attendance. Sevika is one of the speakers for the night and while she's nervous, she knocks it out of the park. Meanwhile Reader is like "wow my wife is such a fucking boss and so hot for doing that on stage, I can't NOT suck her off and get fucked in a random, out of the way bathroom right afterwards."

i was thinking about this ask the entire time she was up there by vander's statue giving her speech. my sweet baby.

men and minors dni

sometimes, you forget just how important sevika's work is. most days you're stuck in your office together, making phone calls and signing documents.

but it's nights like this, when sevika's company has its annual ball, that you're hit with how much sevika does for the community.

the company built on the idea of giving low income communities low interest loans to build businesses and homes. there're several neighborhoods and families that you know personally that have had their lives transformed by sevika's work. but it's not just that.

it's parks built on the company's dime, community centers and pools and basketball courts sponsored by sevika herself. it's the team of social workers and accountants sevika's carefully hired over the years, who make sure that your clients are trained in financial literacy so they don't fall through the cracks. it's underfunded public schools-- the schools you went to as a kid-- being sent busload after busload of books and computers and supplies from your wife. it's medical bills being paid off by a mysterious, 'anonymous' source--the chickenscratch on the checks all matching your wife's.

and nights like this, with each lead team member of all the departments giving presentations of the differences they've made in the community this year, where it really hits you how incredible your wife is.

your poor wife. sevika's currently on the brink of passing out from her nerves, a glass of whiskey shakily clutched in her palms as she waits behind the stage. "baby." you coo, reaching up to cup her face.

sevika winces and pouts in your hold. "i hate public speaking." she whines. you chuckle.

"i know, love." you sigh. you'd give this speech for her if you could-- but it's kinda a requirement that the ceo speak at these big events. "it's just five minutes, talk about the good you've done this year, get some claps, get some laughs, then we can bail." you promise her.

sevika pouts even more, slouching down against you. "you remember the first time we put one of these shitshows on?" she asks.

you giggle and nod.

your second year working for sevika, a few months into dating, and the company had the first of it's now notorious annual balls. of course, back then it wasn't quite as sophisticated as today's is, but it was pretty memorable. after her speech (which she nailed, because despite how much she hates it sevika is good at talking) sevika ran off the stage, high on the applause she'd received, and practically leapt into your arms where you stood backstage. "fuck i can't believe i did that." she whispered against your scalp. "and they liked it!" she laughs.

you giggled and kissed her cheek. "course they liked it, you're very easy to like."

and then sevika said the words you'd been dying to hear her say, the words you were trying desprately to keep inside your throat until she was ready. "i couldn't've done it without you, y'know." she whispered. your smile got softer, and sevika leaned impossibly closer to you. "you kinda scare the shit outta me and... i think i'm in love with you."

you had just grinned and kissed her, mumbling a teasing "you think or you know?" against her lips.

and here you are, nearly ten years later, on the same little patch of floor backstage of your favorite venue, smiling up at your wife.

"course i remember, baby. one of the best moments in my life. right up there with meeting you 'n marrying you. think it'll be in the little montage that flashes before my eyes once i die." you say, giggling.

sevika smiles sweetly and kisses you. "yeah, me too." she whispers.

you hold her for a moment, hoping the touch will help her relax a bit, both of you swaying gently in your dark little corner as you wait for seamus to finish his speech and introduce sevika. "you're gonna do amazing, y'know. you do every year."

"ugh. i know." sevika huffs against you. you giggle.

"so then why are you so worried?" you ask. sevika shrugs against you.

"just. 's a lotta people. and i like when you baby me." she says.

you burst into laughter just as the audience on the other side of the stage bursts into applause. sevika groans, and you give her one last good squeeze and a smooch to her cheek before pushing her toward the stage. "go ahead baby. you got this." you encourage her. sevika smiles shyly at you, and you curse. "shit, sev, wait! i left a kiss mark on your cheek!" you squeak, scrambling to grab her wrist and wipe off the lipstick that must've transferred from her lips to your own, then onto her cheek.

sevika ducks out of her hold, though, her smile only growing. "good. let 'em see it." she says, winking at you before ducking under a curtain and out onto the stage.

the crowd bursts into applause at her appearance, and your heart melts as her words sink in.

she's such a fucking sap. you love her so much you think you might explode.

she nails it, because of course she does. by the time she walks back off stage, there are literally people chanting her name, like she's a rockstar or something.

you intend to tease her about it, but then you see her and her sweet shy smile, your very obvious kiss mark on her cheek, and her hands nervously clutching her note cards, and something ravenous courses through your bloodstream.

you nearly tackle her to the floor as you launch forward to kiss her. sevika gasps, and her notecards go flying as her hands reach up to hold you tight. fuck you love her. she's the most incredible woman you've ever met.

"sev." you whisper between kisses you can't stop pressing to her skin. "sevika."

"y-yeah?" she asks, her voice squeaky and excited.

"can i blow you in the bathroom, please?" you ask. "want you so fuckin' bad."

sevika shivers full bodied and lets out a shudder before she grabs your wrist and starts sprinting toward the bathroom. you cackle the entire way.

your favorite thing about this venue is that they have plenty of single stall bathrooms. you and sevika have used this feature to your convenience many times over the years.

sevika's already rock hard in her trousers by the time you lock the door and pin her to the wall. she's clawing at you, whimpering as she tries to catch your lips in a kiss. you giggle, cupping her jaw and kissing her soundly, shoving your tongue in her mouth to calm her down a bit.

sevika sighs heavily, and you pull away, gasping a breath before dropping to your knees.

"fuck. i'm not gonna last, baby, fuck." sevika whines as you paw at her pants. you giggle.

"you better. want you to cum inside my cunt, love." you say.

sevika makes a pained noise, and her dick jumps in her boxers. you laugh. "you better touch yourself while you're suckin' me then." she says. "want you to cum with me."

it's your turn to shiver. you claw at her boxers, a little growl escaping you when her cock's finally revealed to you. "fuck." you grunt, before leaning forward and just pressing your face against her cock.

sevika sighs dreamily, reaching down to cup your face as you nuzzle her dick. "so pretty on your knees." she whispers. you smile up at her. "lemme see you touch yourself." sevika requests. you shove a hand down your waistband, rubbing your wet clit with your fingers as you rub your face against her length. "that's it, baby. fuck. now put your mouth on me, love."

you're needy for her, so needy that you take a little too much of her at once, gagging loudly on her cock.

sevika moans at the feeling then laughs at the embarrassment on your face when you pull back and catch your breath before trying again.

"don' laugh at me." you pout, spitting on her dick and jerking her while you blink back your tears.

"'s just cute baby. so fuckin' needy for me you choke yourself on it." she sighs.

you shiver a little. you can't really deny that. "you did amazing, by the way." you whisper. "you always do."

sevika's shoulders scrunch up to her ears, and her eyes dart away from yours. you giggle. "shush. you aren't supposed to be talking right now."

you laugh and kiss her wrist, then try again, taking her back in your mouth and slowly working down her cock.

sevika melts against the wall behind her, and her eyes fly back to yours. you hum around her and she groans. "shit, i'm not gonna last, baby, fuck." sevika whines as she starts thrusting into her mouth.

drool is trailing down your chin and into a puddle on the floor, and when sevika's thigh starts shaking you sink two fingers into your cunt, getting ready to take her.

"fuck, i love you." sevika whines. "i love you so much, baby, love your fuckin' mouth, love fuckin' your mouth--" she cuts herself off with a little giggle, and then she groans. "off-- off-- pull off baby, i'm gonnahh!" sevika shudders as you pull away right before her orgasm. she glares down at you, and you giggle, kissing her clothed thigh. "get up here." she growls, tugging you to your feet and roughly shoving you back against the sink.

you grin, shimmying out of your pants with sevika's help, kissing her anywhere you can reach as she hauls you up.

"you ready for me?" she asks, rubbing her cock against your soaked folds. you whine and nod.

"been ready for you since you put that suit on." you tease.

sevika just chuckles and pushes in, both of you groaning at the feeling.

"oh fuck, please tell me you're close." sevika whines, ducking down to bite at your neck as she starts hammering into you.

your hand flies to your clit, rubbing quick little circles against it in time with her thrusts. "s-so close." you whimper.

sevika shivers at your answer, then lifts up to kiss you on the lips. "i love you so much." she whispers.

"p-please cum inside me, sev, wanna make you feel good."

"y-you always do baby, fuck!" she shouts as she fills you up, cumming and shivering against you.

you grin, satisfaction and pleasure filling you equally until you're falling apart around her, laughing and moaning as you pull sevika to your chest.

"you really did do amazing, you know." you sigh after you catch your breath.

sevika smiles against you. "i know. practiced really hard last night, my wife finds it sexy when i give speeches."

"your wife finds it sexy when you do anything, love." you correct her. she grins.

"can we go home now?" she asks.

you giggle and nod. "kinda have to babe. my shirts covered in drool, and i'm sure we got cum somewhere on your pants or something." you say.

sevika cackles.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone

[yamumsyadadd]

Mami and mama

It felt natural coming out of your mouth, like you’d always called them that but it wasn’t until you were home the you realised. 

It was coming to the end of the season, which meant warmer weather and less school, less football too. A big holiday with Alexia and Jenni was planned, Leila and Mapi would be there after too. 

It had been about 8 months since Alexia and Jenni took you home. There were a lot of hiccups along the way and they truly realised that you needed extra love and reminders to be a kid. 

—————————————————————————

You were sitting there, cris-cross applesauce, hands neatly on your thighs, waiting for alexia or Jenni to let you out of your room for the day. 

It was something that started at your old foster home, unless the adults said you could leave your room, you were to sit and wait. You could only leave if your bed was made, your limited toys cleaned up and you were dressed and ready for the day. If you didn’t do it then boy were you in trouble. 

Alexia noticed how quiet you were in the morning, you usually didn’t leave your room without permission and even when it was granted you stood in the corner of the dining room staring longingly at the table. 

“Are you hungry Mariquita?” 

“Sí.” 

You still didn’t move. Almost like a solider on post. It confused her for a while. You were four, but it didn’t look it. You were lanky like Jenni but incredibly skinny, almost too skinny. Your social worker had mentioned that you were underweight and the paediatrician suggested six meals a day that were smaller in size. 

Every morning was the same breakfast, porridge with honey or cinnamon, a bowl of fruit, a piece of toast and two drinks: one orange juice and one milk. At first, you ate and drank it all. Often making yourself sick due to the amount of food, but slowly Alexia and Jenni were able to convince you that it was okay to eat a bit of everything, as long as you were truly full. Jenni usually ate the leftovers anyway. 

They didn’t love taking you to training, but since the event with Eli, it was their best option. After a few weeks the club agreed to turn an old office into a play room of sorts. Alexia and Jenni then spent even longer finding a carer for you. Someone who would be willing to be patient, without be condescending. Someone who would help teach you how to play, to be a kid. That’s what they truly emphasised throughout the interviews. You didn’t know how to play. 

Isabel was their final choice. She was young, younger than Alexia wanted but you took to her quickly. She taught you how to play but also how to paint, how to do simple maths and you taught her about the violin. Like how the modern violin has been around for at least 500 years or that they were usually made from spruce or maple wood. 

At no point did Isabel ask about your Mami or papi, or about foster homes. She didn’t make you talk about the bad stuff but she did help you learn about feelings and what to do when you were having big feelings. It didn’t take long for everyone around you to notice the difference. You were smart, incredibly so, and even though you were shy around certain people, you started to flourish around the adults to deemed safe, two of those being Mapi and Leila. 

—————————————————————————

School had been out for two weeks and Isabel had called in sick, catching the bug you had during the week. That meant that Alexia and Jenni had to bring you pitchside for the day. You’d packed your bag with a few books, your maths sheet Isabel and you were working on and your disposable camera Mapi gave you last week. 

Jenni slathered your face in sunscreen, letting out a satisfied hum when she was done and laughing at the frown on your face, before she ran off she pulled the brim of your hat down so you couldn’t see. 

After you got comfortable, your snack box to the left with your water bottle, your stuffed dog that looked like Nala (that’s exactly why you got it), you started your maths sheet. It was easy work, and you flew through it. 

You didn’t noticed the team had taken a break until the class clown sat down. 

“Hola Mari!” Mapis cheerful voice put a smile on your face immediately, “what are you doing?” 

“Maths! See!” You shoved the paper in her face as you sat up. 

“Wow! You got these all right, you’re the smartest girl in the world Mari!” 

“Mami and mama said that too.” Taking a big mouthful of water you went to move to your snack box before Mapi grabbed your hand. 

“Who?” 

“Mami and mama?” 

“Who are they?” 

“don’t be silly Mapi! You know Mami and mama. They are right over there!” You pointed to Alexia and Jenni who were both drinking and chatting with the other girls. 

“Right, yes of course. Silly me.” Mapi did the same annoying move with your hat before she was gone. You went started reading your new book that Mami had picked up. 

By the end of the day you were tired and your skin had the yucky residue left over from the sunscreen, your snacks were gone and your water was almost done too. 

You were in the middle of a game of tag with Leila and Mapi when it happened. Mapi was in, chasing you around the pitch while most the team watched on with smiles on their faces. Leila, forever the traitor, had scoped you up in her arms so Mapi could tag you. 

“Mami! Mama! Help me. Lele is cheating again!” Everyone froze. Leila wasn’t sure what to do and shared a shocked look with Mapi. As soon she as arms relaxed enough you got yourself out and ran towards your Mami and Mama. Everyone just watched you, no one dared to move. 

“Mariquita? What did you call us?” Jenni got on her knees so she was eye level with you. 

“Mami and mama?” You titled your head at her, truly confused. 

“We are your Mami and mama?” 

“Yes silly! You’re mama, she’s Mami and I’m your mariquita. That’s what Abuela says!” Alexia had turned around, not wanting you to see her cry. The fact that you thought of them as your Mami and mama made them feel on top of the world. 

“You’re our mariquita. Our beautiful, once in a lifetime mariquita. Is that right Ale?” She raised an eyebrow at the other woman who was hastily wiping her tears. 

“Sí, sí. All ours.” The hug that was shared between the three of you very quickly turned into a group hug. Every member of the team joining in and subtlety wiping their tears. 

Once safely tucked into bed that night, Alexia finally let all her tears fall. Jenni held her tight as she cried, shooting a text off to her mother in law. After all, she knew Alexia would’ve spoken to her about hers hopes and fears for the little girl. 

She called us Mami and mama today. Thank you

[theoddest1]

Let's Actually Talk About The Issues With Vivziepop

Okay, first off, hello you beautiful people! Sorry about this foreboding title, but I needed to catch y'all attention on this so I can break down the issues that I and many have with "Hazbin Hotel" and "Helluva Boss" creator, Vivienne Medrano. Now I am sure you all on here are already aware of at least a couple of the controversies that revolve around this particular creator and if you have seen my posts floating around already, some have been greeted with the problems surrounding her social media presence and just her overall as a person. I know seeing another callout on her seems very very tiring at this point, but I felt that a lot of the current callouts missed key details that were not at all addressed or properly delved on. I plan on shedding light on my issues with her and I hope you get where I am coming from when I say that she sucks.

BULLYING

Okay, I am starting off with Vivienne's blatant use of bully mentality, her agreeing or encouraging her fans to call people who see flaws in her works sub-humans or harass those who find issue or simply jest about her works trademark cussing and and overcrowded designs. She has had this issue for YEARS and refuses to grow up and act her age despite many telling her, even her own fans at times, that she shouldn't be acting so unprofessionally. Clearly, she doesn't care and thanks to her fanbase caring more about her feelings than her being better she feels as though she doesn't need to change or do better. This goes for her friend group as well, who defend her tremendously and act as though she is never in the wrong. Name one time a friend of hers called her out for acting childish, I'll wait.

Now, you're probably wondering, "Wtf could they have done to warrant such a response?"

Criticism...That's all they did. (White Text is random peeps they would speak with or maybe mutuals)

Keep in mind...they used to be a fan as well. They were also a minor at this point

But, Viv doesn't care, this person's critical yet harmless tweets about her shows is what lead to her painting them in a horrible light and making them out to be someone who has attacked her personally and as "nasty".

Rich coming from Viv since she is completely fine doing exactly that for "Ava's Demon". Not only does she criticize it, she takes a shot at the creator as well, but GOD FORBID others do the same towards her.

And according to someone who knew her well, it's all cause they felt creeped out by her.

Her hatred for criticism is so prominent that Ima makes that a section of its own. But let's get back on the topic of bullying.

Vivienne has a fanbase filled to the brim with pushy and overall annoying individuals who have harassed, threatened, disrespected, and wished harm on many people, all cause someone had a negative thing to say about Vivziepop's mid af show. One of the earlier known instances is the one revolving around a MEME of all things.

This was what started it all, and it led to both parties blocking each other and people being mad pushy and calling them an idiot and the like over their opinions. Now look, their take and you're opinion on said take is fine so long as you stay respectful and humane about it all, but don't dogpike someone all cause they think HH sucks. And while Viv can not control her fanbase, for they are not a hivemind (some of y'all act it tho, ima keep it real) she is seen here ENCOURAGING the behavior. Tell me how someone who doesn't even like your trash ass show has the sense to tell people not to harass others, someone with a smaller following, but not your grown damn near 30 year old ass?

Oh, but people wanna act like she can handle criticism, is a sweet person, and grew from her past experiences. Fam, she was 27 in this screenshot [December 16, 2019] and has shown no change from 2013 to fucking 2024. Over a decade of the same petty ass behavior, and keep in mind, according to several of her old friends and workers, she is worse behind close doors. WORSE. She's already acting like she got no damn sense out in the open, imagine behind closed doors.

Last but not least, a glimpse into her outright blatant slander towards Dollcreep, a once good friend of hers that she even visited and spoke with frequently!

She stated that they fetishized pedophilia yet according to the victim and friends of the victim who were once friends with Viv as well, Viv actually threatened to end their friendship if he hadn't drawn NSFW art of her character and his character having sex [Addi was 15 at the time this was drawn]

On top of that, she liked the post, something she didn't need to do. The art also depicted things she had regularly drawn on her own. Addi being tied up forcefully, being sexualized, being harmed to some degree through bondage, etc. The claim that she forced DC to draw this out is backed up by her own art depicting similar elements. Also, if my memory serves me well, Viv and Doll were 17-18 years old [Doll was 17 Viv 18] and have a 1-year age gap. The way Viv frames things here is as if DC was way older and imposed some sort of power over DC, which sources say otherwise. If anything, Viv had a LOT of control throughout all of this drama, which deserves its own section.

I'll be making posts that talk about the different issues regarding Viv, so one post isn't too long (this one is already lengthy enough) and that you can just pick at one post targeting certain issues around this creator.

[hubbvrd]

Love letter | Quinn Hughes

summary — in which quinn is in love with y/n the social media worker for the canucks.

pairing — quinn hughes x reader

words — 2955

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You couldn't choose who you fell in love with.

It usually happened so quickly that you hardly noticed and couldn't do anything about it.

It was actually a nice feeling to be in love. You had the feeling that the world suddenly became carefree and you walked around with a good feeling.

You were happy to see the person again and to be near them, while the warmth shot up your cheeks and your stomach tingled.

That's exactly how Quinn felt at the moment. He was in love.

A few weeks ago, he had fallen in love with the young woman y/n, who worked in social media for the Canucks.

In a joint video, in which the young woman had asked him countless questions to create content for the Canucks fans, the two of them had had a lot of fun and occasionally got a little closer to each other, so that the odd physical contact was inevitable.

Since then, Quinn had been thinking about the young woman almost constantly.

His teammates Elias and Brock would often catch him looking over at the young woman during training, who would take photos or videos and then post them on social media channels.

This was the case again today. Practice was in full swing as Quinn gripped his racket tighter and scanned the ice ring for the woman who was turning his head.

It took him a few seconds to spot her. She was standing there with a young man Quinn had only glimpsed so far and seemed to be laughing happily about something.

Every now and then, the stranger would touch her, causing Quinn to unconsciously tighten his grip on his bat and his eyebrows to furrow slightly.

"Hey man, you're staring again." Elias came to stand next to Quinn on the ice, so Quinn saw Elias adjusting his helmet out of the corner of his eye.

Quinn knew he didn't need to give Elias an excuse, because his best friend knew about the young woman and Quinn's feelings.

A few days ago, Elias had caught Quinn staring and then confronted him, but Quinn had folded not long after and told Elias everything.

After all, there were no secrets between the two best friends.

"You should finally ask her out."

Now Elias stood in front of Quinn so that he could no longer look over at the woman who had taken a liking to him.

"Elias, I-I..." Quinn began to give his team colleague another excuse, as he had done the last few times.

But he raised his gloved hand to indicate Quinn should be quiet.

As Elias began to speak, he gave the captain a serious look.

"Quinn, you have a different excuse every time. I can see how smitten you are. But the longer you hesitate, the less chance you have. I hate to say it, but I guess that guy over there is trying to get to her himself."

With a nod, Elias gestured over to the young woman and the red-haired man, who had come a little closer to her and kept grabbing her by the arm.

From a distance, Quinn couldn't interpret the expression on the young woman's face, as she was standing with half her back to him.

"And how am I supposed to do that? Just run over and pull her away from the redhead?"

A nervous expression formed on Quinn's face. The thought of simply walking over to her and approaching her made him start to sweat.

He wasn't good at approaching women, so the thought of talking to the young woman made him want to flee.

"That's actually how you do it, yes. But I have another idea." A grin formed on Elias's face as he stepped a little closer to Quinn and then whispered something in his best friend's ear.

And this idea appealed to Quinn so much that he decided to put it into practice.

"Good morning" a smile came to your lips as you greeted your colleagues and then slipped inside.

"Good morning, y/n! Good to see you." One of your colleagues, Lucy, ran up to you beaming and then pulled you into a tight hug.

Ever since you'd taken the social media job with the Canucks, Lucy and you had become instant friends.

Since then, you've been more or less inseparable. Lucy also worked for the social media team.

She usually took over the press conferences or was there for the post-match interviews, while you took care of the social media channels and shot the occasional content video.

The brunette put her arm around you as you walked side by side through the building to the small office where you had made yourselves comfortable.

The office wasn't very big, so only two desks fitted in opposite each other and two small, cozy armchairs had found their place at the other end of the wall.

Despite their small size, you loved the office more than anything, even if you spent more time on the road than in the office.

"What's on your agenda today?" You checked in with your colleague and best friend as you opened your office door and slipped into the light blue room.

On the wall behind your desk was a huge Canucks logo painted on the wall, while on the other blue-painted walls were some pictures of the team that you had taken yourself.

"I've actually just got some paperwork today and need to make a few phone calls for upcoming interviews, you?" Lucy dropped into her desk chair while you carelessly threw your jacket onto one of the chairs and then walked over to your desk.

Before you could even begin to reply, a white envelope lying on your desk caught his attention.

It wasn't unusual for you to receive mail in the morning, but this letter was different to the mail you usually received.

You could feel that directly. Slowly, you walked over to your desk as you answered Lucy curtly.

You didn't want your colleague to get suspicious.

Your name was written on the letter in curved handwriting. There was no sender or indication of where it might have come from.

This led you to conclude that this was a personal letter.

Your curiosity grew as you began to examine the letter, but made no attempt to open it.

Who wrote you a letter?

You carefully picked up the letter. It was quite light and you could feel a note through the thin envelope.

"Who did you get mail from?" You suddenly heard Lucy's voice, who had more or less caught you in the act.

"Oh, just from a customer, nothing important," you babbled and opened a drawer in your desk to carefully put the letter inside.

Your curiosity wouldn't diminish over the next hour, but you wanted to read the letter in peace and quiet, so you had to wait until Lucy left the office and you could finally be undisturbed.

But you didn't know how agonizingly slow the time would be until then.

Four agonizingly long hours passed before Lucy finally made the effort to leave your shared office to have a conversation.

After the door had slammed shut behind Lucy, you jerked out the letter, which you carefully opened and pulled out the neatly folded paper with your heart beating faster.

With trembling fingers and increasing nervousness, you unfolded the paper before placing it on the desk in front of you and began to read.

Dear y/n,

I keep looking at you, but can't touch you.

You don't know, how much l want to. want to be near you, want you to look my way.

A moment alone with you, would be beautiful. A moment alone with you, would feel eternal.

You skimmed over the words again and again. Your heart kept leaping in your chest as you read them.

You had never received such words before. In the past, you had always found it very cheesy when your friends told you that they had received love letters or wrote them themselves.

But now that you had your first love letter in front of you, it warmed your heart.

It was really sweet to read these words that were addressed directly to you.

You didn't know who this letter was from, but you wished it was a special person.

This one particular player called Quinn Hughes.

The first time you had made a video with him for social media, you had immediately noticed how well you Both got on and you had even gotten a little closer to each other at times.

Since then, you've often thought about the captain and occasionally caught yourself looking over at him and staring at him for a few seconds, lost in thought.

But what if the letter wasn't from Quinn at all, but from Alex? Alex had been very close to you recently and you had caught him looking for physical contact again and again.

Alex was a really nice young man, but you just wasn't attracted to him.

The thought that the letter could be from Alex made your face contort slightly and you put the letter aside.

Your fingers reached for the envelope, which you began to shake and shortly afterwards a small Post it note in the shape of a heart fell out.

You had completely overlooked the post it so far, so you reached for the pink note with a pounding heart and turned it over to reveal the writing.

If you're brave enough to find out who I am, meet me in the parking lot at 7 tonight.

Once again, no signature under the message. There wasn't even a single letter that would have given you any idea who had written you this sweet letter.

Your heart was almost pounding against your chest as you glanced at the bottom of my computer screen to see what time it was.

By now it was 6:30pm and so you still had some time before you would meet the unknown love letter writer.

Nervously, you started to slide around a bit on the black office chair.

You were really curious to find out who was behind the sweet lines.

But even though the message was really sweet, you were afraid that it might just be a joke.

After all, the Canucks boys had the occasional challenge and banter amongst themselves.

But had you really become one of her victims? With the best will in the world you couldn't really imagine that, as everyone was incredibly nice to you and treated you as if you'd been part of the team for ages.

Of course, you never know what makes other people tick and even though you couldn't imagine for the life of you that this letter was just a joke, you decided to be careful.

But despite all this, you wanted to know who was behind the letter and so you decided to go to the place where it was said and find out who it was.

Your heart beat a little faster against your chest with excitement and nervousness.

You hadn't mentioned the letter to Lucy once, so you had to come up with an excuse to more or less get rid of Lucy at the end of the working day an hour ago, as she was desperate to have a drink with you.

The last hour that you had spent alone in your office had gone by rather agonizingly slowly, even though you had already prepared a post or two for the next few days on social media.

But now it was time to find out who had written you the letter.

With every step you took closer to the parking lot, your heart began to beat faster and faster, making you feel like it could jump out of your chest at any second.

You buried your hands, which had become sweaty again, deeper into your jacket pockets, where your right hand played with your bunch of keys.

You were incredibly nervous, so your hand needed something to do and you were a little more distracted.

When you arrived at the parking lot, your eyes wandered nervously back and forth.

In addition to your car, there were four other cars in the parking lot, but you couldn't identify their owners.

Since you didn't know exactly where to wait in the not-so-small parking lot, you positioned yourself a little more centrally in the large parking lot so that the unknown person could easily spot you.

A glance at your cell phone display showed that it was still five minutes until 7 pm.

You used the time to take a few more deep breaths and try to calm yourself down as best you could.

Luckily, it wasn't a dark time of year, so you didn't have to be afraid of the parking lot, which was usually only dimly lit by a few lanterns in winter.

Although the weather was pretty gloomy today and the clouds were increasing, it was bright enough that you had a good view of all the creepy corners and only had to run a few meters to your car if necessary.

Your eyes scanned your surroundings and every time footsteps came closer, you looked hopefully in the direction they were coming from.

But none of them paid any attention to you and shortly afterwards, all but one of the other cars pulled away.

So the last car, which was not too far away from yours, had to be the car of the man who had written you the letter.

A few more minutes passed, during which the nervousness began to creep up inside you again.

And then suddenly the time had come.

From a distance, you could recognize someone. The person was wearing a dark blue hoodie that clearly stood out.

His hood was pulled over his head and his gaze was slightly lowered, so you couldn't tell who it was yet.

On his shoulder was a sports bag, on which you could see the Canucks logo from a distance.

So it was a player, you thought, as the stranger came closer and closer to you and your nervousness grew so much that your heart began to pound in your chest again.

He seemed to be moving in slow motion and took forever to get to you, so you started moving without thinking twice and ran towards him.

When the two of you finally came face to face, the stranger slowly lifted his head and pulled the hood off his head, revealing thick brown hair.

And your heart literally skipped a beat as you struggled not to clasp your hands over your mouth.

Because standing in front of you was none other than Quinn Hughes.

The man you had gotten a little closer to some time ago.

The man you got on well with straight away.

The man who made you laugh.

The man you couldn't stop thinking about.

"Quinn..." His name left your mouth in an almost whisper.

The person opposite you nodded in response, a shy smile on his lips and he began to clutch the handle of his sports bag like a lifeline.

Suddenly he seemed so shy and embarrassed. Very different from your video shoot.

He cleared his throat. "Hello, y/n."

"The...the letter...it's from you?" To be on the safe side, you checked again. There was a little fear in your voice because you wanted the letter to be from him.

"Yes, I wrote the letter."

Embarrassed, Quinn looked at you and ran his free hand through his thick hair, brushing a few strands that had fallen into his eyes out of his face.

"Wow...I mean...those words really touched me" You babbled on, which made Quinn's cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

"Really?" he asked hopefully. He couldn't seem to believe that you were reacting so positively.

You began to nod eagerly.  "Yes, really!" 

Quinn began to almost beam and seemed to spend some time searching for the right words, which made you slightly nervous.

"I'm not really good at talking, that's why Elias gave me the idea of the letter. I thought you thought this was just a joke and you weren't even going to show up, but I'm really relieved you're here."

Now it was Quinn who was babbling nervously as his left hand moved to the back of his neck, where he began to scratch himself in embarrassment.

"Really? I thought it was a joke too, since the name wasn't signed. But I was too curious and wanted to see who was here."

A nervous laugh leaves your lips, causing Quinn to start laughing as well.

"Wow...that's really something."

Quinn smirked slightly before gathering all his courage and finally the sentences he would have loved to ask you already left his mouth.

"Y/n I know this might be risky because you work for the same team as me. I don't know exactly what the contracts and agreement are here, but I think you realize there's something between us too, don't you? Would you...would you go out with me?"

His eyes looked at you with an almost hopeful expression, while your heart stumbled again and you began to feel the warmth rush to your cheeks.

And it actually didn't take you long to give Quinn a suitable answer.

Because the answer has been on the tip of your tongue for a long time and you were finally able to say it out loud.

"I would love to go on a date with you, Quinn."

[ixhika-jsx]

This is the society we are talking about.

It's not about female doctors getting raped

It's about womens going through all this

"The entity - the gender from everyone takes birth is in danger" should be enough for our government and society to take action against these rapists

Some fuckers in this society have guts to say things like:

"Her rapists were so lucky, I wish I could have been in those 8 - 9 ppl"

"She wasn't even pretty and 10 men raped her,where are men's standards ?"

I have been seeing so many ppl asking for justice for that female doctor like almost in millions

But if in exchange of that doctor there was a sex worker or a girl with onlyfans account then maybe no one would have spoken for her justice...

Why ? Becauase She have a vulgar job or because she is used to it?

When there is someone speaking for them then there are some assholes who go like

"She could have done some respectful job then maybe she wouldn't have gone through all this"

"That was her own choice to get in such work..."

And what not....

This is the society we are talking bout.

After reposting these stories on thier social media they all are back on showing their lively life while partying and what not

And you say 'we stand united'

Stand United where? In clubs?while backbitching about a girl's hair? While driving your cars of which you post stories continuosly?

Today in my coaching there was this boy who was posting bout speaking against rapist on his social media

And in class he and his friends even female Friends were bitching bout some girls who have done nothing but have those facial and physical features since birth

This is the society we are talking bout.

Reblog this as much as you can..so you can spread the word. Only if you are really honestly share the empath and actually are concerned

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 [Intro]

Hearts can get hurt so easily in this cruel world. But maybe it's time he opens his own up for someone else.

Tags/Warnings: Non-Idol Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, former criminal!Jungkook, mentions of past neglect/abuse, reader has some pretty bad psychological problems (OCD, Anxiety, Selective mutism, hints at an eating disorder), hypersomnia, old to recovery, hurt and lots of comfort, angst, Jungkook has some problems with aggression and swears a lot, more TBA in future chapters

Length: 2k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Boo. Also you can have early access to this and other selected fics on my Patreon!

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"You might've noticed the color of their collars." the worker says, barely pulling Jungkook away so an excited Hybrid boy runs past- and not into- him. "They all have a specific meaning for us. Over there, the brown ones-" she points, and while Jungkook looks disinterested, he's acgually actively listening. "They're healthy and don't have any physical or behavioral issues, and can therefore be adopted with no limitations. Over there, black, that means the young hybrid has been taken in because the former owners have passed away. He's gonna keep wearing that color until he decides that he's done mourning." the worker explains as she walks around the main 'Social Area' of the shelter.

There's a couple of hybrids sitting together on the floor, all bunnies he notices- and all wear the same colored collar. "Pink means they're on medications. The tags on their collars show which one's." she says when she notices Jungkook looking at the small group. "Yellow means severe behavioral problems. This young boy, for example, has bad anxiety." the worker explains as they walk a bit further.

"...and green?" he mumbles, unable to mask his interest.

"Physical disability." she says softly, as the girl talking to the yellow collared boy shifts a little, one leg replaced by a prosthetic below the knee. "You'll get used to it, don't worry. They adapt quickly and tend not to really care about it." the worker reassures when she spots the slight shift in Jungkooks gaze.

Once they sit down, he signs some papers before the worker leaves him for a moment to get an employee badge for him. He's busy resting his face on his hand, already painfully bored of it all- he's gonna be watched the entire shift he needs to work for the next few months anyway, because considering that his crimes include violence, there's no way they'll trust him to handle any of these hybrids alone.

It's when he notices someone asleep in the corner of the social area, wearing a bright red collar.

"Alright, this vest should fit you, you can just put that over your regular clothes. Those plastic coverings go over your shoes so you don't bring any dirt in. And this-" she offers a plastic card with a clip. "-goes somewhere we can clearly see it. Alright?" she beams, and Jungkook nods.

"Hey uh -" he wonders, gaining the employee's attention. "What do red collars mean?" he wonders, and somehow, her entire posture and expression change slightly.

"Ah.." she sighs sadly. "...those are non-adoptable hybrids. They're basically permanently homed here for the rest of their lifes." she explains.

"So they just.. stay here forever?" he wonders, and she nods.

"Their status is checked every year, but almost all red one's we have tend to not show any improvements after getting here." she says, sorting the papers he'd signed earlier. "terminal illnesses, severe disability or extreme behavioral problems can put someone in the red category. Most never get out."

"Whats with her?" he asks before he can stop himself, nodding towards where you sleep near a window, facing away from everyone.

"..has been here for four years now. She doesn't talk, mostly sleeps, and doesn't like physical contact. Also has OCD- she only eats one specific brand of hybrid food her old owner forced her to eat, and is convinced that if she looks someone in the eyes, they will die." she explains. "She's been here since I've started working here. Very sweet if you look past all her issues- but I agree that she's not fit for a regular home."

Jungkook doesn't answer.

He doesn't even want to attempt to imagine what you must've gone through to end in a situation like this. It had always pissed him off how most hybrids were treated by society- the whole system royally fucked up in his opinion, but then again, he's not a picture perfect citizen either.

Otherwise, he wouldn't be here.

"Alright then, let's go into the kitchens!" the worker snaps him out of his mind, leading him away from the social area.

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"Do you want to bring it to her?" Hana, the worker, asks him when she notices him looking at you again.

"I- uh.. Do you think that's a good idea?" he mumbles almost, cringing a little at the food they've put in a bowl for you - looking like dry cereal, if anything - more so like plain dog food. But then again, if that's what you chose, he shouldn't judge too much.

Though he can't help but feel like in a span of four years, how come no one has ever managed to at least get you to accept decent food?

Hana waves him off. "Just place it close to her and maybe sit with her. You can take a break until she's done and bring the dish back." she just says, before walking off to handle the other hybrids who're still waiting for their lunch.

Jungkook sighs, walking towards you with the bowl and his own lunch in hands, carefully getting closer to where you're sitting in front of the window. Your back is turned towards him, and your tail limp on the floor. While you don't move, he can see your ears turn towards him.

He knows they just told him to sit with you so they don't have to look after him like a kid.

"Uh- here." he mumbles, putting the bowl close to you. At first, you don't react at all- and he's fine with that, quite honestly. He just starts to eat his own meal, breaking the chopsticks apart before digging in, while you simply pull the bowl closer, taking a handful of hybrid pellets. "Does that even taste of anything?" he mumbles more or less, and he notices a slight stutter in your movements, signaling that you're definitely aware of his words directed at you.

He notices how you put a singular pellet close to him without turning around - offering it in a way, and Jungkook doesn't know what to think of it. But, being curious as ever, he doesn't hesitate to eat the bland looking ball of whatever it might be.

It tastes just as bland as it looks.

"Damn, what the hell.." he cringes a little before looking your way. "You do know there's other options than.. That, right?" Jungkook offers - but you shake your head at that. "No one's gonna bite the dust if you have something decent to eat." he shrugs to himself, rather indulging in his lunch to get the weird taste from his tongue.

All of this just makes him all the more upset at whoever forced you into such a state.

Taehyung is a dog hybrid too, after all. And somewhat the reason he's forced to do this whole social work shit at all- considering that Jungkook broke someone's collarbone for tying his best friend by the neck and leaving him in a yard just for the fun of it.

Just because he's a hybrid.

You wave a little with your hand, apparently trying to signal that he can leave- but he just stretches out his legs, lays on his back and rests his head on his arms, before closing his eyes. "Poke me when you're done eating or something." he just shrugs and doesn't notice that you take the chance of his closed eyes to look at his face.

He looks young, but mature at the same time. There's a butterfly stitch on his eyebrow, the other side decorated with a silver piercing. His lip seems like it had had some injury too recently- but it too is sporting a silver piercing, the ring sitting simple on the skin, yet the effect of it is undeniable. There's a softness to his face, and yet, taking all the features in, you can spot some rough edges here and there.

You wonder if he has many friends.

He seems a bit grumpy but nice, nonetheless. No one's ever attempted to try your food, let alone be so direct in trying to convince you of letting go of this old habit. You're not stupid. You know no one's gonna die if you eat something else. It's simply your body that doesn't seem to get the memo. It's there every time, vividly in your head. If you eat something other than this, someone's going to get mad.

And You don't trust anyone in this place.

Not after attempting to try a tiny piece of leftover cheese from the table, just for a tiger hybrid to angrily snarl at you. It's always your fault in the end, it's always you who has to take the blame, because if you can't talk, how can you stand up for yourself, explain yourself? No one wants to listen to you anyways.

You poke the dozing new guy. His name tag reads 'Jeon Jungkook'.

He wakes up, yawns. Stretches his arms, his legs, sits up and looks your way. You only look at his neck, barely able to see his mouth move as he speaks. "Done?" he mumbles, and you shrug, pushing your leftovers back towards him. "Come on. I know it tastes like shit but that's all you can eat?" he asks, and you shrug again. Why does he care how much you eat? "Here." He scoots a bit closer. "half of that. At least. Eat that or my leftovers." he offers, threatens almost, unable to push you off to the side like everyone else apparently does. He just sees so much of Jimin in you; his best buddy's hybrid, a rescue as well. And while Jungkook isn't as gentle as Yoongi was with Jimin when the cat hybrid was in his phase of recovery, he still can't ever shake off the images, the scenes he'd witnessed back in the day.

He fucking hates how some people treat hybrids.

And maybe that's why he stays until you've eaten as much as you can, shaking your head at some point stubbornly before shoving the bowl back towards him. He chuckles, the sound making your ears snap towards him, curled tail shaking a little bit, like it wants to wag but can't quite get over the fear to do so. "Good girl." he praises without thinking, barely snapping his hand back from almost petting your head out of instinct. He clears his throat.

Does he think you're weird now?

"Alright imma be out of your hair now." he says, before leaving you be, walking back towards the workers.

"Do you know her?" Hana asks, another worker just as curious as she seems to be standing next to her.

"No?" Jungkook says, suspicious of them as he raises an eyebrow, putting the bowl down to be washed after throwing your leftovers in the trash. "Why?" he wonders before Hana looks your way.

"Because that's the first time I've ever seen her tail wag."

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[separatist-apologist]

Separatist-apologist lore beneath the cut

I dropped out of college when I was 19 and when I decided to go back, I had two kids. I was undeclared and I felt old despite still being in my 20s. I had a scholarship which required me to do daytime classes with all of the brand new 18 year olds and I felt wildly out of place. Before that, I'd been staying at home raising my kids while their dad worked and a lot of people thought wanting to return to the workforce was a mistake, so there was this immense pressure to succeed where I'd once failed.

The problem was not knowing what I wanted to do. All I really cared about was history and domestic violence and as far as I knew, there was no good career path that combined those things, and so I signed up for four random classes that had nothing to do with each other. One of them was called Serial Killers in America which was taught by a former police officer. Another was introduction to psychology, taught by a social worker.

I was sitting in the Serial Killer class one morning, way in the back where no one paid me any attention, when the professor (former cop, remember) began telling a story about being called to a house for domestic violence and I remember looking up at her as she said that too often, these things are a "he said, she said," and they're usually both lying.

And it just ignited something angry in my stomach. I was looking for an advisor since I'd been undeclared and I turned that day to the psych professor and asked if she'd fill out my form to be my advisor. As she was, I told her what the other professor said and how much it bothered me and she asked me what I wanted to do. So I told her, and she asked if I'd ever considered social work.

So began six years of perfectionism and the single-minded goal of getting my masters degree and working in the field as a licensed social worker. I remember my first day in orientation at grad school, someone asked if anyone knew where they wanted to be in 5 years. I was the only person who raised their hand. I knew where I wanted to be.

And for the last three years, I got to live that dream. The good, the bad, the horrible- all of it was mine. And today I pack up this office I've worked in for the last three years because its all over. The work was always good and I'm proud of what I've done. I've published papers, I've sat in state-wide commissions, I've talked to legislators, I've presented at conferences and I've trained a new generation of advocates who feel the same passion I do.

It's no secret that people who work in this field are typically survivors themselves. Something about surviving it turns people into advocates, whether they meant to be or not. And often they manage to make it out of the metaphorical burning building, turn around, and decide they need to go back inside to try and get others. The amount of people I've talked to who say, "I want other people to know they're not alone and they can get through this," is numerous. It makes you optimistic, it makes it impossible to ignore the good in humanity even when you're faced with some of the worst people/circumstances you'll ever encounter.

And despite all the petty office politics, a system designed (sometimes purposefully) to make leaving difficult, and state legislators who push back every inch of progress we ever made, I will miss it. The work was always good. I'm proud of the things I did individually for folks, of the amount of times I got to tell someone they did nothing wrong, that they deserved safety and respect.

These three years have been the best and worst of my life, but the work was always good. I will always be in it, will always be standing beside the ghost of my childhood self, offering her a hand and a voice and I think if I accomplished nothing else, at least I did that.

[thebearmage]

Reborn - Five Hargreeves x Dolores - Chapter Two

Rated 18+/Mature.

TW: Coercion, mention of sex, attempt at rape 

(Chapter One) (Chapter Two) (Chapter Three - coming soon)

Chapter Two - Fight or Flight

“Dotty, honey! We got another beer at table three,”

Dolores massages her temples behind the bar before turning to face one of the older women in Mr. Higgin’s establishment, Rosa, with a tight smile. 

“Got it, Rosa,”

Dolores returns to the tap, takes a glass, and fills the pitcher. She watches the golden liquid fill the glass, her thoughts running just as fast. 

Eleven months, two weeks, two days. That’s how long Dolores has been working at this shithole. Mr. Higgins kept his promise; he gave Dolores food, shelter, and a steady income of cash, but it was not enough, not by a long shot, for Dolores to get her own place. 

Dolores hated it, every goddamn second of it. Mr. Higgins was ‘kind’ enough to let Dolores stay on waitress and bartending duties unless asked for specifically by a client. Those nights were the worst. 

“Just lay there and look pretty,” Rosa told Dolores one night after she returned from her first night with a customer, “They don’t want a partner. They want a toy. So, be the toy and get them off so you can be done,”

Even with her little social knowledge, Dolores knew it was wrong. She felt like a doll again: manhandled, squeezed, told what to do and how to act. 

“I am a real person…I am a real person…I am a real person…I am a-”

Dolores’ thoughts are cut off by the feeling of the beer overflowing onto her hand; she quickly wipes everything down before carrying the drink to the table, trying not to trip.

Mr. Higgins forced all the women to wear skimpy outfits that barely covered anything. Dolores wore a white crop top over a black lace bra that everyone could see, tight jeans shorts, matching lace panties, and white Stiletto heels. 

Dolores had no idea how other women could walk in these hell shoes. 

Teetering slightly, Dolores makes it over to the table and serves the man his beer, but as she turns away, she feels a sharp smack right on her butt. 

“Hey!” She cries, angered, “What the fuck!?”

She turns to find him leering up at her in a very lewd and unashamed way.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. It just looked so appealing. Lighten up.”

Dolores feels her face twist into a scowl, but knowing this job was all she had, she holds back, actually biting her tongue to keep herself from talking. 

“Is that everything, gentlemen?” she says, trying hard to keep her face in check.

“Not quite,” said the man, “Why don’t you come and spend some time with me. All work and no play makes-” he squints at her nametag, “-Dot a dull girl.”

“No, thank you,” she says stiffly.

“Oh come on, girl,” The man bites his lower lip, “You’re asking for it, come on, spend a night with Daddy,”

Dolores tries not to vomit but lets her disgust show on her face, “Ugh, fucking gross,” she starts to walk away.

“Hey!” The man gets up, “I’m talking to you, bitch!”

Dolores turns around, “Yeah? Well, I’ve taken your order and served your drink, so this discussion is over,”

The man fumes, “Oh you fucking-” he reels his hand back to slap Dolores, but another hand stops her. Mr. Higgins.

“Now, now, son,” He grins, “Hands off the merchandise. I have a special customer looking forward to seeing her tonight; I don’t need that milky skin marked up now, do I?”

Dolores folds her arms over herself, tray under her arm, trying to seem smaller. Higgins didn’t value any of his workers as people; they were just pretty cash cows for him to exploit. He talked about the girls as if they were works of art for him to sell off to the highest bidder. Or, more accurately, pieces of meat.

“Go get ready, dolly,” Higgins orders Dolores, “Your man will be here soon,”

Dolly. That fucking nickname. Dolly or Doll. Dolores hated that name with a burning passion; just hearing it sent waves of fury curling in her gut. It takes all she has not to hit Higgins around the pudgy face with the tray in her hands. 

Though the thought has helped her sleep many nights. 

“Sure,” she responds, before walking away to get ready. 

By getting ready, she means taking everything but her bra and panties off and waiting for the guy in her room. It was so different from before, where he would wrap her up in layers of clothing to ensure she was warm, that she’d survive. Now, Dolores was actively removing her precious clothing to appease a man in almost the same way. 

“Wait, what guy am I even thinking about? When did this happen?” She shakes the thoughts away and reapplies her makeup before sitting on the bed. “You can do this. Just be the toy for a few hours, get the extra money, then go home,” Dolores tells herself, “Be the toy. Get the money. Be the toy, get the money,”

It doesn’t take long for the man to knock, and Dolores looks up, “Enter,”

The man was tall and older, maybe in his mid-40s, with graying black hair and brown eyes. He wore a three-piece suit and matching fedora. He looked fucking ridiculous, like a wannabe prohibition-era gangster. It amused Dolores as well as disgusted her. 

Dolores puts on her best fake smile and greets him, running a hand up his arm, “Heya, baby, how can I be of service tonight?” The man breathes a sigh of relief and instantly wraps his arms around Dolores's middle, “Oh baby, the list of things I wanna do to you tonight,” he whispers into her ear. Dolores could smell the beer and tobacco on his breath, “I got a list,”

Dolores giggles, “We’ll show me, mister, and we can discuss it,”

The man looks at Dolores, “Discuss? No, no, no, I’m doing all of these…” he pulls out a folded list and lets it fall open in front of Dolores’s face, “...to you tonight,”

Dolores scans the list, and the alarm bell rings in her head. Not even two words down, and she’s already seen one of her hard nos.

Anal Fisting 

“Oh fuck,” Dolores tries to smile again, “Baby, limits and boundaries must be discussed,” she laughs awkwardly, “Otherwise, I’m going to have to turn you away,”

The man’s grip on Dolores tightens, eyes full of lust due to her fear and smile predatory, “Did you not hear me, babe?” he asks, “I said ‘I’m doing all of this to you,”

He pushes Dolores backward, causing her to trip on her heels and sprawl out onto the bed, and she scrambles to get away, only for the man to grab her arm and force her under him. 

“Come on, baby, you’ll love it, I promise!”

“HIGGINGS!” Dolores screams, “HIGG-” The man claps his hand over Dolores’ mouth, “Shh, shh, shh. No, no, baby, we’re going to have fun,”

The man moves his free hand down to Dolores’ panties, and something within her…clicks. 

Without thinking, Dolores grabs one of her shoes and jams the heel right into the man’s ear. He cries out as blood spurts from the busted eardrum as Dolores rolls off the bed and onto the floor. 

“What the fuck!??” The man shouts, blood leaking through his fingers as he holds his ear, “You fucking psycho! You busted my ear!”

The man attacks again, but Dolores blocks his three hook punches before jabbing the man in the kidney once…twice…thrice before punching him square in the jaw.

The man drops like a rock, crumpling to the ground with Dolores standing over him with a bloody shoe. 

Hearing the commotion, Rosa bursts into the room, “What in the blazes is going on-”

She cuts herself off, seeing the prone man and Dolores. 

“Honey?”

Dolores was panting, her eyes wide as she stared at the man, the shoe, then back at him.

“What the hell…?” she mutters, sitting on the bed, “What the hell!?”

“Dotty, what happened!?” Rosa drapes a robe over her, “Did…did he try something?”

Dolores nods, “He tried…” she takes a harsh breath to keep the tears from spilling, “...he tried to rape me, Rosa,”

Rosa gasps softly, “Oh baby,” she hugs Dolores, and the younger woman breaks down in her arms, sobbing into her shoulder. 

The other girls, hearing Dolores’ sobs, come in and crowd around, one sitting on Dolores’ other side and rubbing her back. Rosa mouthing the word ‘rape’ to them had them all gasping in horror. 

They all start whispering encouragement and comfort to Dolores, one girl gently petting her hair while another rubs her back. They all stayed with her until her sobs turned to sniffles. 

One goes to get Mr. Higgings, and the unconscious man is dragged out. Another makes tea, and the girls stay with Dolores. They talk about random things—how their day was, comments about the men who remained at the bar too long—until Dolores is ready to speak. 

Dolores tells them the story, all of it: him coming onto her, her saying no, him insisting, throwing her on the bed. 

“It’s like I…snapped,” Dolores holds her head, “I just…suddenly knew what to do,”

“Maybe it was an old memory springing forth,” Jenny, a waitress, says, “You said you lost your memory, right?”

Dolores nodded, remembering the cover story she had told the girls when it became clear that Dolores didn’t know things that would typically be common knowledge. 

“Maybe you were some kickass cop-in-training or something,” Cassy, the bartender who’d initially served Dolores her first night, comments, smiling, “That would be cool!”

Dolores, despite knowing it wasn’t true, laughs, “Yeah, maybe,” she sighs, “I just hate when I’m forced to be a toy for them,” Dolores rests her chin on her hand, “I’m not…into it, as one would say,”

Jenny thinks for a moment, “Dotty, have you ever considered being on top?”

“Top?” Dolores sniffs, “Top of what?” Cassy laughs, “Top of others, silly! You know women don’t always bottom, right? Why not be the one who's in control? That way, you could hit men - which you're clearly good at - AND they'd pay you for it,”

“Yeah, yeah!” The second bartender, Myra, adds, “Oh my god, Dotty. That’d be perfect for you! You seem to do better when you’re in control, and I know quite a few men who love being dominated by women,”

Dolores looks around, seeing that all the women agree, “But I…I wouldn’t know how…I’ve never,”

“Oh girl, no one does it at first,” Cassy scoffs, “Here, little secret…” she leans in as if to whisper, hand by her mouth, “I moonlight at a club…” she pauses as if looking for eavesdroppers, “...a sex club, downtown! They cater to all kinds of people there! I bet one of their experts can teach you a thing or two! Maybe you can even get a job!”

Dolores feels hope surge in her chest, “...Really?”

Cassy hits her arm, “Yeah, girl! Tell you what, I'll get you an interview, and then you can hook the rest of us up when you get the green,” Cassy cheekily rubs her fingers together, “Deal?”

Dolores nods, beaming, “Deal!”

The girls squeal and all hug her, Rosa looking at the group fondly. 

»»————　★　————««

Dolores walks briskly down the city streets, dressed in the attire Cassy helped her pick out. She hasn’t said anything to Higgins in case this doesn’t work out. 

Dolores was nervous; she’d never done an interview before. The girls helped her practice, but it became clear Dolores knew nothing, so they had to run her through standard social practices. 

The only thing they told her to do was be there early. Her interview was at three p.m., and it was currently two forty. She would have to sprint to get there at least ten minutes early. 

Dolores was in such a rush that she didn’t notice when she ran smack-dab into a man. His coffee, luckily, only hit the concrete instead of their clothes. 

“Shit!” he curses, backing up, “Watch it!”

Dolores pants, looking at the man. He was shorter, with black hair that fell over his green eyes, “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking. I…”

Dolores looks around to see the C.I.A. building right next to them. The man has clearly started walking up the stairs, crossing her path. 

“Oh fuck, I ran into a C.I.A agent,” she curses herself, “I’m so sorry, I have an interview and I…”

The man holds out his hand, “It’s okay,” he smiles politely, “I have one today, too. I get it,”

Dolores gets a better look at the man. His hair was shorter but just tickled his nape in a way that said he was growing it out. He wore a three-piece dark gray suit with a white button-down. He had a sharp, handsome jawline and a slightly hooked nose, and he was looking at her with a little line between his furrowed eyebrows. His posture was professional and tall, speaking wonders about his confidence.

Dolores smiled, “He’s kinda cute,” she couldn’t help but think before shaking it off, “I’d offer to get you another, but I really have to go,”

The man shakes his head, still smiling, “No need. Good luck, by the way,”

“You too,” Dolores smiles before brushing past him, “Have a good day!”

The man starts up the stairs, sending her a wave. Dolores hurries the remaining block before reaching the building.  It was a giant black house with a rather intricate staircase leading to giant black wooden doors. It looked odd with the city buildings on either side, but Dolores liked it. 

With a shaking hand, she knocks on the door. After a moment of waiting, a younger man with bleached white hair, eyeliner, a band T-shirt, black skinny jeans, and Converse opens the door. 

“Dolores Smith?” he asks, smiling when Dolores nods, “Alright! Come on in!”

Dolores takes a breath before stepping inside, following him, “Here we go,”

[am-i-interrupting]

Velvet— One Author; Two Show Hosts Headcanons

One Author; Two Show Hosts is a Vox x Alastor’s Child Reader series. Essential knowledge: you and Vox are married by the point Velvette comes to Hell. Reader is a POC with curly hair.

Bonus: Playlist

Velvette started off her time in hell working as a costume designer. She starts off with a small business and a couple of workers, mostly overworking herself to stay on schedule.

You figure out about her while looking for a new designer for your theater.

For several months, you’re Velvette’s highest paying client.

Over time she realizes that you’re actually a fun person to bitch and gossip with. When she lets something slip about Hell being behind on technological advances, you introduce her to Vox.

This leads to Vox trying to contract her but she wises one up on him and suggests they be business partners instead.

She doesn’t do much with the technology programming and whatnot but she does have at least a general idea on how things worked and gives that information to Vox.

Soon she goes from a small business to having her own distinguishable fashion brand.

You’re still her favorite costumer though.

She makes all the costumes for your shows herself and makes sure everyone knows it.

It doesn’t take long for her to move into your and Vox’s tower.

She has a love hate relationship with Vark.

Sometimes they get along swell and are cuddled up on the couch together. Other times he’s drooling on her clothes or chewing on them and she does not respond well.

Speaking of clothes say goodbye to your wardrobe freedom. She is going through it and everything she hates in a kindle.

She will not get rid of your true vintage unless it’s absolutely atrocious. She’s a fashion girlie. She knows everything comes back in fashion eventually and with the rise of social media, that time comes around quickly.

She will collab with you in order to make you fashionable but you clothing.

Beauty is pain but she doesn’t want you to hate what you wear. You only look like a bad bitch if you feel like it.

Better practice your runway walk because you will be modeling your exclusive line.

If she catches you wearing clothes someone else made (with perhaps an exception if it’s vintage or made by Rosie because she, unfortunately, has to accept that you’re friends with Rosie) prepare for an Edna Mode type blow up over it.

Also, your privacy? Yeah, that’s a bit gone too.

She’s not outright mean but she is willing to playfully embarrass you on social media.

You know that “Hey, wake up, sleepy head!” vine? She’s done that to you and Vox.

She will throw shit at you and Vox if you’re being too lovey dovey.

Makes constant old people/old married couple jokes about you and Vox.

Vox makes short people jokes in retaliation. Then gets something thrown at his head from behind. Looks back, remembers you and Velvette are close in height. Shuts up real fast.

Velvette is absolutely soul crushed the first time she sees you have curly hair because. . . What the fuck? It’s so pretty! How dare you!

She vlogs your entire curly hair journey, undoing years of damage.

Vox just lets you do your thing on hair wash/styling days. Does not get involved because you both become so focused he’s kind of scared what will happen if he breaks it.

Doing each others hair while watching shitty Hell-a-Novelas.

Yelling at the TV when people do something stupid.

Absolutely gossiping and shit talking people all day. Like no one else’s business.

Velvette taking so many pictures to post when you’re done.

Overall, Vox gets a new business partner, you get a new bitching partner. Win win, right?

[the-starry-seas]

I was thinking about how exactly the Royal Squad came to join the family, because adopting five clone cadets isn't exactly an impulse decision, and like

Fox interrupting Breha's schedule and approaching her as his queen, not his wife, and asking her for several million credits. And she knows that something is up because he's calling her Your Majesty and using corporate-speak and swearing to find some way to repay her. And neither of them are idiots, she knows there's nothing he can do to bring back that kind of cash no matter what job he gets.

So Breha, obviously, has questions. Maybe a thought or two in the back of her mind that Fox might not know what a spam email is. Fox is generally very calm and even-tempered so she wants to know what's going on and why he needs so much money.

Fox says that Kamino is going to sell off everything they can to recoup losses from the latest batches of clones that they're no longer being paid for. He says most of them will be sold to slavers. He says the ones that can't be sold will be killed. He says none of them are more than five years old. He says there's ten thousand of them and he knows it will be expensive, but he could never live with himself if he didn't find a way to save at least some of them.

Breha is weeping long before he's finished. She's seen his scars, she's heard him wailing with terror from nightmares, she's felt him flinch when she touches him without warning. She loves him, but she would do anything to change his past. She will do anything to spare his little brothers from the life that can never stop haunting him. She thinks of darling Leia, two years old and safely at home with Bail doting on her every move, and is sick at the thought of any baby being treated in the way Fox just described.

She gives Fox carte blanche to bring home every last child. He falls to his knees and kisses her hands, thanking her in jumbled words and eyes shining with tears. She has no regrets for the financial havoc she's just caused herself and will never let him repay her.

Fox brings home ten thousand and five children. He snarls at anyone who comes near the youngest, holding the runt of the litter his every waking moment, his hands always gentle but his eyes glaring a lethal warning. The legion of social workers deployed to help find homes for the children, well, they unanimously decide that that's someone else's problem.

(There's a bright spot in all this hustle and drama. As it turns out, selling children into the Core worlds... it's just so incredibly unbelievably illegal. Breha gets back every credit that Fox spent, and a reward for alerting the police to what the Kaminoans are doing. Clones have human rights on Alderaan, after all.)

Eventually, after several months of several thousand people working twelve-hour days, all ten thousand clone cadets have been placed with loving families all across the planet. There's still welfare checks and such to be done, but for now, everyone is safe, happy, and in no more danger from the Kaminoans.

This leaves five.

Fox finally goes home to the palace, after being one of those people working twelve-hour shifts, and says, "I adopted some. I didn't mean to."

Breha says, "I heard you cold-cocked someone for suggesting an adopted family for them on their third day here."

Fox has to say he did, yes, and he didn't mean to do that either, and he already apologised several times.

Breha smiles and says that Bail's been excited to meet them for weeks now, and won't Fox come to dinner?

Fox does come to dinner, and brings his tubies, far too nervous at the idea of leaving them with anyone else, even Leia's nannies. It doesn't surprise him when Breha is the first to bring it up.

"Bail and I talked about it, and we understand if you want to be their only legal parent. We know there's complexities around their adoption. Whatever support you want from us, you'll have it."

Fox doesn't expect his eyes to blur with tears, or for them to feel like tears of joy.

"Leia's my daughter," he whispers, "and these are your sons."

"Helio is a family name on my side, you know," Bail mentions. He smiles at the tubie in Fox's lap, who giggles and waves back with his little hand clenched around a green bean. Then Bail's gaze meets Fox's, and the fatherly love already in his eyes... it takes Fox's breath away.

"My parents once said that they planned to name me Vidal if I was a boy," Breha adds, and takes a sip from her glass. "Though I suppose some of them might have names already?"

Fox shakes his head. There were so many other things to be busy with that he's just been calling them by the last two digits of their CT numbers.

"I wasn't sure what to call them," he admits, "but I was sure you would love them."

They beam at that, and Fox manages to smile back, despite how exhausted he is from the past few months. There's still so much waiting in the future, but for tonight, he can take the time to breathe.

He falls asleep quickly that night, with his head in Breha's lap and her hand in his hair, Kit already fast asleep and curled into his side, listening to Bail read a bedtime story to all six of their tubies.

[rederiswrites]

Well, today I had the entertainment of having a dental hygienist schedule me for my next cleaning to make sure that she was the one doing the cleaning, so that she could hear "the end of the story". It was definitely a uniquely entertaining tooth cleaning.

You see, I got a message from Jacob while I was in the waiting room, telling me that... Well, the situation with my mom, who lives in our basement and is causing us problems I don't really need to get into, had deteriorated even further. So when the hygienist went to take my blood pressure, I was like, "oh actually, it might be really bad right now, cuz I just got upsetting news, don't worry about it." And then it was, in fact, fairly terrible. It's always been great before, and was great in their records, so we called that one a scratch.

But naturally she was curious to know what had my blood pressure through the roof. Presumably if I'd brushed it off she'd have respected that, but I was like, hell, why not, it's some pretty wild gossip. So I told her the basic outlines, and actually it was good for me, because at some point I'd really started to give my mom a little too much credit, trying to keep the situation peaceful. The hygienist gave me a fresh perspective of like, "wait so why is that even a problem for her?" And at a couple points there seemed to be surprising parallels with her life. So when I was done, and hopefully less likely to pop a blood vessel, I said, "Well I gave you the goods, I think you'll agree, so fill me in on your story!"

Because after all I was about to have her hands in my mouth for fifteen minutes, so my turn with the talking ball was definitely over.

She's like, "Alright, but fair warning, this might be more uncomfortable for you than me." And naturally I say something to the effect of, "Oh nah I'm cool with most things", and she gets to work.

"So ten years ago," she begins, "my husband died."

Me: *indistinct noises of shock and dismay* What's that one Twitter thread--"I know, classic start to a funny story."

Anyhow, short version, her husband died, she had a two year old to take care of, and she was working as a social worker and feeling like she couldn't take another day of it. So she quit her job, sold her house, moved back in with her parents (she got space in the unfinished basement, the baby got her old bedroom) and trained to become a hygienist. It certainly hadn't been her plan to still be there ten years later, but hey, she had help with the kid, he comes home to his grandparents every day instead of her scrambling to find a situation for him until she gets off work, and she feels spoiled to have her mom cooking for her. It's not perfect, but the way she sees it, it's been much better this way for her son.

So now she's gotta wait six months to find out if we get a mediator and how we settle the situation. Which I guess means I gotta actually settle it. God I hope.

As we were saying goodbye, I said, "Wait, I didn't get the punchline. Are you happier as a hygienist?"

"Oh. Oh yeah. Absolutely."

[velvet-vox]

V and Doll; trauma, mental disorder, and low empathy.

(Warning: this post is slightly outdated and contains some incorrect medical terms that don't correspond to the modern classification of ASPD. You can still read it if you are curious, but don't take anything stated here as hard facts. They are not.)

Very recently on my notifications I received a reblog by @aroaceweirdos101 to a response I've made to a post talking about how Doll went through so much more pain than V, and it made me realise that the response in question was actually, like, really good.

I had genuinely forgotten and underestimated how good of an analysis of both V, Doll, mental health and societal stigma it really was.

Now, of course, I disagree with the sentiment that Doll suffered more than V and fully believe that out of the two V endured way more pain and trauma than Doll; yet, although the responses in the comments checked out with what I previously said, they felt... meaner?

Like, the answers went to the opposite extreme of the original comment and tried to downplay Doll's trauma in comparison to V's, almost implying that Doll was a b##ch (which she was) for snapping as hard as she did when V still managed to retain a sense of restraint; and I disagreed with that, so in response I wrote this:

*Look, I believe both Doll and V are interesting characters, and although I feel more sympathetic towards Doll, I definitely believe V went through so much more pain than Doll and had way more reasons to snap and be the way she is now, but I just really hate people who use that as an excuse to label Doll has the more evil of the two or "she was always just a psycho, she just needed an excuse to snap"; it's especially disheartening when people straight up interpret her as unreademable or pure evil, when V and N's body count is 10 times higher than Doll's.

Also, I'm sorry but I really can't stomach the possibility of Liam redeeming the genocidal war machine and not the broken orphan created by said psycho, it literally would be the fictional pinnacle of "since these are the protagonists, they can get away with as much as they want and are always in the right"; I'm fine with the way Doll died because it was done by Cyn and there wasn't any moral lesson to be gained from our protagonists about it, but if it was done by N, Uzi, or worst of all V again, it should have played out like "we have reasons to do the things we do, and you have yours, unfortunately we're on opposite sides and you are hurting us so we must kill you now".

The human (worker drone) mind is extremely fragile, and some people, due to a probably inherited and undiagnosed mental illness or a particular personality type, are more at risk of snapping then other people, yet instead of being understanding towards those who are born with more issues than others (especially women, look up Azula or Ashley Graves) we tend to isolate, demonize and then kill them because they were incapable of fitting into the larger societal standard of acceptable social behaviour, even when said society never did anything to help them meet its unreachable standards because it required too much work from society's side to give you the special attention you needed in order to make you work and fit in.

V was a quiet kid because she was shy, Doll was a quiet kid because she was introverted. Those are two very different types of people and one of them (Doll) was inherently more at risk of developing mental health issues than the other due to their personality type and how it's stigmatized.*

Here's also the original post made by an anonymous user on @md-confessions

Also, here's the link to another post still talking about V and Doll. I made two comments in response, but neither of them is particularly well thought out and since you can't correct them I left them as they were.

Now, back to the highlighted part:

I want to use this response as a springboard to talk about the main differences between Doll and V when it comes to their different handling of their decaying mental health and why it's unfair to say that one of them was worse than the other based on their actions and attitude towards the problem.

(Also, all of the Murder Drones characters are extremely complex, and the fact that the show doesn't have filler makes it harder to get a good grip on one's particular mindset, so if it seems like I'm talking more about Doll than I am about V, it is because V is the most complicated character in the cast and I'm not as confident to talk about her as I am with Doll; it took one entire year to finally understand Doll as well as I do now, so V is a touchy subject for me that's why I might not do her justice).

First of all, it has to be said: Doll is a sociopath, V isn't, despite appearing like one. And that's ok.

When I say that I feel more sympathy towards Doll than I do for V, this is what I mean: I don't sympathise with Doll heartlessness more than I do with V jackassery; rather I understand and relate with Doll's low empathy since I also have low empathy as well, and it is quite common for people like us to be misunderstood for uncaring individuals.

It's the same reason why I and many others tend to like villains and sympathise with them more than we do with the heroes (Lord Shen from Kung Fu Panda 2 is the perfect example for this); it's quite common for villains to be written as individuals with low empathy, as an highly empathetic individual tends to be harder for the audience to buy as an antagonist, since you need to justify why someone this caring is committing all this heinous and terrible stuff, but if that person is already unemphatetic by nature, than it's just a matter of establishing their goals and motivations. These people also tend to be ostracized by their environment and go through a gruesome and violent death because it's socially acceptable to let these despicable individuals find comeuppance through death since they lack the traits that make a person traditionally good.

So, when people use the "So what? She's got dead parents. Many others do, including Uzi, who's also infected with the Absolute Solver, yet they have not become cannibalistic serial killers obsessed with revenge" as a slight against Doll it's not entirely fair because from what we've gathered in the show the other worker drones don't suffer from sadistic impulses and sociopathy like Doll does, even if they (Rebecca) are pretty uncaring. (Side note, Uzi also suffers from sadism/sadistic impulses, but not from sociopathy, hence the main difference between the two).

V, on the other hand, despite what her introduction and psycho girl persona might trick you into believing, was never a sociopath nor did she struggle with low empathy, she was, instead, a pretty timid maid who suffered through unspeakable physical and psychological trauma that led her to adopt this fake identity to cope for the atrocities that she was now committing for the company (Absolute Solver) and the safety of N; V cared about N in a pretty normal person kind of way: she kept N at arms length and hid the truth from him so that he wouldn't get hurt, all while detaching herself from the actions she was now committing, not saying Doll wouldn't or didn't commit any of these actions, but V did them in a way that better aligns with someone who doesn't suffer from sociopathic disorder.

Speaking of N, since he has been mentioned, I'll say that while Uzi suffers from sadism but not low empathy (she has shown to be pretty empathetic many times), N doesn't suffer from sadism but from low empathy; as better explained by a section of this post made by @melissa-titanium :

N x Doll

Don't believe me? Then maybe you should rewatch the series again because N's unemphateticness is his own can of worms to delve into.

But back to Doll, it's time to dissolve (😏) one of the oldest misconceptions surrounding her character:

Doll reached out for help. A lot. She just didn't have any luck with it.

Call me crazy, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised that the fandom wide spread belief that Doll rejected all the help that was handed to her to be a massive lie, and in fact, Doll actually tried to reach out way more than you thought, arguably, even more than Uzi:

The impact that Yeva's education has had on Doll's life can only be noticed in this way: Yeva extended her hand to Nori and she accepted it, thus, it is fair to assume that Yeva taught Doll to be pretty open to others and to give a hand to someone in need (the show was rewritten after the pilot, so ignore the incongruences with Doll's initial characterization), and in fact, after enduring the trauma of watching her parents die, she opened up to Lizzie for help and support, unfortunately, Lizzie wasn't exactly the right person to talk about these things (no offence to her, all of Uzi's classmates suck for one reason or another, including Uzi herself, I guess that's what happens when you are stuck inside a bunker your whole life), after all, Doll was still killing and cannibalising her classmates.

Then, before she went back to gain her revenge, she tried to get Uzi on her side, which wasn't an attempt to open up, but she was still willing to connect, even if for the wrong reasons. Finally, once she discovers that Uzi also has the Absolute Solver, she promises to help her out, and at this point, Doll wishes to talk it out with Uzi, but because she is surrounded by the Disassembly Drones (V), she can't.

And now, for the most interesting discussion, there's this brief and frankly weird moment in episode 5 where Doll compliments Khan for raising Uzi, and while Khan laughs it off immediately, since he is a dumbass, this could have been a perfect opportunity for him to reach out to Doll and reason with her, since she's clearly putting aside whatever her objective actually is to talk to him, but he doesn't catch on, and this leads Doll to immediately closing herself off again and returning to the mission, and like, maybe we all kind of underestimated how much significance this moment carried, but consider this:

Doll, at this point in time, has been living out in the cold for what... a month? Six months? A YEAR? If we exclude J and Cyn from the equation, this is probably the only social interaction she ever had since The Promening, yet, because of Khan's lack of touch, she immediately reminds herself of the massive disconnection between her and the other workers (eh ehm sociopath) and thus storms off rapidly; this moment is actually quite painful when you look at it from this perspective, yet it's also, the only interpretation that makes sense? Otherwise how do you explain the existence of this moment when Murder Drones is a show infamous for his high plotting and lack of filler? They had to go out of their way to animate this, so why did they play it off in this way?

Tessa is a meanie

Penultimately, and again, I want to bring up a post by @capnsaltsquid since that's where I got the inspiration to write this paragraph off, Doll opened up to J and Tessa to get the answers she was seeking, yet not only Tessa shot her in the face for s###s and giggles, but then proceeded to fraternise with her parents murderers, and at this point, she closes herself off enough to realise that she might have to unintentionally kill Uzi and leave everyone in the dust if she wants to get anything at all.

But unfortunately, that is not the case, she dies of a lonely, meaningless, gruesome death, and at this point, she still tries and finally succeeds in reaching out to Uzi, and yet, like all of her previous tries, this is unsuccessful, as Uzi has other things in mind right now.

To wrap things up nicely, both V and Doll went through severe amounts of trauma and handled said trauma in a similar yet also different way, since they are different individuals who process emotions and love differently, thus the actions they took made sense for the person they were and should only be judged in the context of their writing and characterization.

Want more?

[specialagentlokitty]

Amy Santiago x sibling!reader - people suck

Amy Santiago having a Sibling who struggles with social cues, and her being protective when people make fun of them for it? - Anon💜

Amy knew you didn’t enjoy going outside much, she knew you worked, and you worked somewhere quiet where you could stay by yourself.

What she didn’t understand was why.

Even now after all these years she never understood why you didn’t like interacting with other people.

But she also knew you struggled with social cues, you always had and when you were young you relied on her to help you because the rest of your family wouldn’t.

Standing next to you at the takeaway, she was messaging Jake while you read from the screens above the counter to decide what you want.

“Does he want something to eat?” You asked.

“I’m trying to ask him but he’s making it impossible to get an answer.”

You turned to your sister.

“Do you know what he eats?”

Amy shrugged a little, putting her phone in her pocket.

“Not from here, he’s not answering me now so I’ll just get him something from somewhere else.”

You shrugged a little, turning back to the bored.

You carried on reading the items while the teenager behind the counter stood there, arms crossed while watching you.

While you were choosing what you wanted, Amy noticed how the teenager behind the counter began to mock what you were doing, but you didn’t seem to notice.

When you did, you furrowed your brows a little bit.

“Is there something on my jacket?” You asked.

“No, there’s nothing wrong with your jacket.” Amy said.

She narrowed her eyes at the teenager who snickered a little, going to talk to some of the other workers while waiting.

You went back to browsing the menu.

The whole interaction while order went the same way, and it was something you picked up on.

“I’m going to wait in the car…”

Amy gently grabbed your arm.

“No, you’re going to wait here.”

She turned around, walking to the counter.

“Do you think it’s funny to make fun of people?” She asked.

“Come on, it was a joke, no need to get shitty about it.”

“A joke is something everyone can laugh at. Making fun of someone, mocking them and copying them because they struggle with things isn’t a joke, that’s harassment.”

The teenager scoffed.

“Don’t like it go somewhere else then. What are you a cop or some shit?”

Amy reached into her pocket, pulling out her badge and slammed it on the counter.

“Actually I am, and I want to speak to whoever is in charge right now.”

The teenager immediately went quiet, and you walked over.

“Don’t, it’s not worth it Ames please.”

“No, it is worth it. I’m fed up of watching people mock you, it needs to stop.”

You looked at her, and she smiled at you.

“It’s going to be alright, I promise.”

She turned back to the teenager who was awkwardly standing there talking to someone before leading them over.

Standing behind your sister, you let her do all the talking, and she had a lot to say.

Amy was smart, she knew a lot, so she knew everything that this place was doing wrong and all the laws they were breaking, and she brought them all up.

She went deep into everything, leaving no room for argument from anybody, and when she was done the place fell silent.

“Let’s go (Y/N), and I’ll make sure this place is black listed by every single police officer in this city.”

While everybody protested and begged for you both to come back and see reason, Amy just took your hand and led you from the takeaway.

“There’s a place across the street, so you want to try there?”

“Can I just wait in the car this time?”

Amy gave you a little smile, hugging you before she nodded, handed you the keys.

“Of course, I know what you want.”

“What about our food from that place?”

“I already told them to cancel the order, we’ll be refunded.”

You nodded, heading to the car so you could just sit there and wait for your sister to come back.

This was why you hated going outside, because people were horrible, but at least you had Amy