#and that made all the difference in their interactions

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 11)

Their background is clear to you—always has been since your social worker told you about them in her car on the way here.

They’re military men. Most of their long lives have been spent in the field. She even mentioned that their first children grew up on base when they were little.

Which sounded cool, you thought. It was so different from the office jobs other foster parents had. A bonus, even—it made you feel safe in their house.

They were bigger than most. If not by height, then by width. They were large. Buff. Even the damn harpy, who was supposed to be lean, had broad shoulders and lots of muscles.

So you felt safe. That was a big bonus. Better than that weird suburban house you stayed in, where the mother often avoided the creepy neighbor who looked predatory. You remember his strange glances and how nervous the mother was when he came knocking one night while her husband was away.

How nervous you were as you watched their interaction a few feet away.

So, you’ve always had a big thing about safety, thanks to the weird places you have stayed.

And they felt so safe. It was comforting, really. After the initial phase of settling into a foster home—when you flinched away from everyone until you got to know them better—you started to relax.

(Unless they were the angry type. Or worse, the type to lay their hands on you.)

So, when Price sat you on his lap, checking your temperature again and combing your hair with his hand and sharp claws, you felt... calm. Eh, not totally, you admit. You still tensed a little when his hand came near your face and stayed quiet because of your shyness.

But it was progress, and you really, really wanted to feel at peace with them.

When night came, after they gave you more medicine, warm tea, and another serving of John's bean and bacon soup, they decided to put you to bed early.

Which... was fine. You were actually very tired. Sickness does that to you.

Price carried you, lifting you easily from the dining room chair with the booster seat they’d gotten from somewhere. He placed you down carefully in the big nest full of heavy blankets and pillows, the others following behind at their own pace.

Being there gave you a chance to watch more of their routine.

Ghost was the last to enter. You could hear him rattling things downstairs and turning off lights as he came. His low voice confirmed that all windows and doors were locked.

Gaz was already in the room, sitting at the nest’s edge as he combed through his wing with a special tool, a weird looking comb thing. Johnny worked on the other wing with a concentration you didn’t know he could manage. Both of them were close to you, their legs nearly bumping your small form in the giant nest.

Price moved calmly around the room, putting things away and finishing his hygiene routine in the attached bathroom.

"Feeling better?" Gaz cooed softly, his leg—talons, talons, such sharp talons—bumping near you to get your attention.

"Y-yeah, better..." you answered quietly, nodding for emphasis.

"Good." He crooned, satisfied, especially when Soap purred right after.

(Is it really a purr if he’s a werewolf?)

"Good pup, such a good pup. Really brave, huh? Dinae complain even once. So strong..." Soap murmured, leaning over Gaz, who relaxed back against him.

"It's just a small fever..." you mumbled, frowning a bit at his exaggeration. You were shy. "It’s nothing..."

"Not nothin’, kid." Simon grumbled, finally climbing into the nest after discarding his mask and gloves. He lay beside you, checking your forehead again. "Sick is sick. A flu is a flu. Still makes you feel like shit."

"Simon..." Price scolded as he emerged from the bathroom, closing the door behind him. "Didn’t hear the hatchling say one bad word ’til now. Don’t influence her."

"To be fair, we barely heard her speak at all until now." Kyle retorted sassily, smiling at Price before glancing down at you. "Small, quiet fledgling."

"Nah, she’ll warm up to us!" Johnny declared confidently, shaking his head. "Right, pup? Wanna play with Papa tomorrow? We can play anything ya want!"

"Tone it down, mutt. It’s snowin’ outside," Ghost grumbled, already wrapping your small body in one of the blankets.

"We can play inside. We’ve got the space," Soap said smugly, finishing Kyle’s wing before slipping into the nest on your other side. "We can play, pup. Promise I’ll be gentle!"

You tensed a little, unsure. Your expression showed your doubt with your little frown. After a few seconds of silence, you managed to murmur.

"....o-okay... I guess..."

"See? Who said peer pressure doesn’t work?" Ghost deadpanned, making Price snort with laughter, faint wisps of smoke escaping his nose.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, hatchling. Soap will understand." Price says with a quiet laugh, approaching the nest as he adjusts some kind of shoulder weight attached over his sleeping shirt where his missing wing used to be.

You stare at him for a moment, frowning slightly in confusion.

"...Soap...?"

Your question seems to stun them for a moment before they all start laughing softly, like it’s some kind of inside joke.

"Tha’ would be me, lassie." Johnny replies with a big smile, flashing all his sharp teeth as he leans closer. "Just a codename. Military, aye?"

"Nickname...?" you mumble, still confused.

"Close, hun. Codename." Gaz explains with a gentle laugh, sliding into the nest now, his wings resting against Soap and Price’s backs.

"It’s like a nickname, but it’s used for secrecy. So bad people don’t know our real names." Ghost adds calmly, his heavy hand giving your back a slight pat.

That makes you scrunch your nose slightly.

"Why Soap...?"

Once again, the others laugh at your question, except Johnny, who just sighs quietly, though his smile remains.

"Doesn’t matter why." The werewolf says with a shrug, still grinning as he gestures at Simon. "This bastard is called ‘Ghost’ in the field, Kyle is ‘Gaz,’ and John just uses his last name, ‘Price.’"

You nod quietly, blinking as you process the information. It’s kinda weird, but it makes sense for their lifestyle. Military men for most of their lives, huh? That actually makes you wonder...

"...Are your kids also military...?" you ask softly, hugging your knees over the thick blanket.

"Thank fucking god, no," Price answers quickly, sounding both relieved and horrified at the thought.

"I thought we weren’t doing bad words?" Ghost asks slowly, his tone sarcastic as he sends Price a bored look.

"Oh, shut it." Price growls softly back, leaning closer to him with a sharp smile.

"But no, none of them are in the military." Kyle chimes in, smiling slightly. "Doesn’t mean they didn’t think about following our footsteps at some point, though."

"Wee lads and lassies always thought the military was cool, wanted to be like their papas." Soap says dreamily, though his smile falters slightly to a more nervous smile. "We would never let them, though."

"Why?" you ask innocently, tilting your head in confusion. "You didn’t like the military?"

"No, no, not that! Ah love the military, wee lass!" Soap defends quickly, waving his hands around. "Can’t imagine doin’ anything else with my life!"

"But no parent wants their kids in such a dangerous job," Price interjects, shaking his head as he mutters under his breath. "Honestly, if I had my way, they’d still be here in the nest with me."

"Ignore ’im. Dragon instincts get the best of ’im sometimes." Ghost mutters, shaking his head before gently nudging you down into the nest. "Come on, kid. We can talk tomorrow. It’s sleep time."

You’re still curious, but you nod, laying back against the nest. Johnny immediately curls around you, his giant body wrapping you up entirely. You even feel his tail loop around your legs. You tense for a moment at the closeness, but soon relax, rolling slightly to burrow your face into the blanket. His much larger body shields you completely.

"Night, kid." Ghost grunts as he settles, his hand resting on top of your wrapped form.

"Sweet dreams, hun." Gaz murmurs softly.

"Sleep well." Price adds last, leaning down slightly as the others settle into their spots in the nest. "Call us if you need anything, alright?"

"Gonna be monitorin’ her. It’s fine..." Johnny mumbles, still draped protectively over you. "Good night, lassie."

You fall asleep as the lights turn off and the others cuddle into the nest. Despite the heavy snowstorm outside, you feel incredibly warm.

Safe.

[systems-overloaded]

ill make a seperate post with the non-professional advice i give anyone with mental illness (active or history of) that is seeing a physical medical doctor. because this post ended up pretty long.

~

this is about some of our experiences of mental health issue affecting physical health care. as well as our physical health conditions affecting/interacting with our mental health conditions.

--

forewarning, it is a very long read. i tried to condense it, but i struggle to do that.

--

ooph, this shit is so true. although i do think there's a good amount of truth in neurosciences, i just think there are alot of /neurologists/ specifically that are shams, or at least extremely biased and prejudiced about alot of things. neurologists also seem to have the biggest ego of all specialists drs ive seen.

~

i have a couple genetic disorders, which like i have the clinical profiles for and also have genetic tests that match. but only after alot of years of progressively getting worse and going to so many doctors to try to find out why. i actually had to do a bunch of research when i could, even analysed my raw dna data from an ancestry test, found a specialist in the suspected disorders, and got a very clear clincal diagnosis, then got official WGS testing to further confirm that.

so my self-diagnosis was right for a good couple of my disorders actually, but most were diagnosed by others after the other diagnoses were confirmed.

(like evidence of one phsyical disorder made other drs start to take my other symptoms seriously thankfully, bc now it was less likely to be mental illness/conversion symptoms in their eyes.)

but one of the /very first diagnosis/ that a neurologist tried to give me was Functional Neurological Disorder (which i do think is understood to be a bit different now than conversion syndrome, but to most drs it meant the same thing back then. even now, alot of doctors use FND and conversion disorder interchangeably, they think FND is just conversion disorder but "rebranded" so there's less pushback about a diagnosis, which isnt true.)

but FND is a diagnosis of exclusion. thank fuck my moms knowledgeable about stuff and said "no, you cannot diagnose my child that from one conversation and zero tests except routine labs, thats only by exclusion. you have done no tests to investigate their symptoms." so it never was an offical dx, but it was in the doctors notes still, which follow me to other doctors unfortunately.

it should never be the first thing a neurologist diagnoses or suggests to someone. he probably tried to for me because i was on medicine for anxiety depression and OCD, and was having alot of neurological symptoms.

(he also tried to say all my decline, daily headaches and constant migraines id developed after a TBI was just "post concussion syndrome" and "stress", but it was still going on 4+ years at that point. we had no idea PCS is not supposed to last that long, and trusted him about that at least. but when i had to switch drs, my new neurologist was actually /appalled/ the previous one didnt do further tests, or even get an updated MRI. he honestly seemed in disbelief that the old dr was trying to tell us it was "totally normal" to still be so affected after so long, let alone be having a decline as well.)

id literally had to stop my OCD meds very abruptly and have awful withdraws because he (the old negligent neurolgist) refused to do any further testing until i stopped that medicine (without consulting a psychiatrist even, he just said i had to stop it. such such dangerous and reckless doctor advice/order).

i was progressively declining and having alot of seizures and different dangerous medical events. so i stopped it and suffered bad withdraws ontop of everything else that was happening, went back to him, just for him to say it mustve been stress still, i was "stressed".

-

"its stress" is a dr code phrase for "i dont have any idea whats happening with this patient but my ego will never let me admit that, so im going to blame the patient and say its all anxiety".

alot of drs wont admit if they dont know something. but all of my good drs, who have actually been investigating things and gotten to the bottom of a couple of my disorders, have admitted that because im a complex case, they dont know which issues are being caused by what.

they do tests to rule out or confirm major issues and then we try meds/treatments for various things to see if they help to try and find origins. and sometimes we just wont know what a symptom is from, but the goal is to find ways to improve my quality of life and capabilities, while doing frequent testing to keep an eye on the issue. like, all my best drs put their egos aside and say "lets investigate together".

i have been failed in alot of ways by the medical systems and doctors, but i have also had good drs and recieved alot of help as well.

--

but alot of that good help, only came after advocating and fighting like hell for my symptoms to be investigated properly. after doing a fuck-ton of research myself because the system was failing me and i was dying (literally), then finding a specialist in what i suspected was my main issue. they investigated and tested for it properly, then gave me a clincial diagnosis, then "proof" of the disorder via genetic testing later on.

--

im actually lucky in the sense that i actually have some known variants. because a couple of my genetic disorders dont always have known variants found yet, and despite myself having a very clear clincal profile, some doctors didnt even want to "accept" the diagnosis i was given, until they saw a clear genetic marker. even though i was diagnosed already, it was always "patient suspects ____ disorder, still awaiting WGS test to confirm.", "patient has concerns of ___ disorder, no genetic testing done yet.", "patients claims was diagnosed with ____, but no genetic testing done."

if my doctors hadnt been refusing to treat me for my other disorders, "until genetic tests come back", then i wouldnt have tried to get testing, because alot of drs who specialize in this disorder advocate for patients to NOT get testing, because even if someone has a clear clinical diagnosis and treatments are helping, if genetic results come back negative some doctors will take away the clinical diagnosis, stop treatments, and slap a conversion/FND label on them. then the patient doesnt improve because they dont have that, they have a genetic disorder with an un-found variant.

like, im talking about a disorder that the vast majority of people who have it, DO NOT have an identified variant, and it has clear clinical diagnostic requirements, which i fit. its not a diagnosis of exclusion, i fit the clinical tests and profiles, but so many doctors wouldnt accept my diagnosis unless i had a genetic test showing positive.

--

from the time of clinical diagnosis to actually getting testing was a little over 4 years, and my other doctors were all still treating my very real, very clear clincal diagnosis as if i was just suspecting it. so everything, all treatments except for PT (which always made me worse, which is a known thing with my disorder) and some of the meds i was already on, was being delayed and put into limbo, of "lets wait for the genetic test first", even things unrelated to that diagnosis.

everyone said i needed WGS before anything else, but insurance wouldnt cover it, even with appeals, and fighting for so many years for it. so i had to try and save for it myself which is crazy hard when you're disabled with no income. while saving up, we were still trying to get insurance to cover it.

--

so in this circumstance, thank fuck i actually had some known variants! because if i hadnt? i honestly would be dead. and i firmly believe that would be due to medical negligence and malpractice. which i also firmly believe was rooted in mental illness stigma, and stigma/bias due to the fact that an abuser was intefering with my health care (still is actually) by calling doctors offices and telling them that i have munchausens and/or by proxy.

(which i consider this to still be a mental health stigma/bias issue, not a genuine concern, bc alot of the tests and diagnoses i had are not something that someone can fake??? so seeing those shouldve made drs not take my abuser's words seriously, had they not been so biased about it, had it not clouded their judgment so much.)

-------------------

also, on the topic of phsyical abilities affecting mental health:

ooph i also have alot to say about that, in particular how my disabilities affect my OCD, and sometimes needing other people to engage in my compulsions for me, which sounds really weird when i word it like that.

and often i cant engage in some compulsions, or others cant get things "just right" for me, thats a major theme/pattern for my OCD. so ive basically been getting exposure therapy more and more as my physical abilities declined. and its awful awful for both me and my caregivers/helpers when im trying to convey while very stressed the exact way they need to place something or do something, etc. and when im overhwlemed or dysregulated (like how OCD can cause) then im very prone to meltdowns and to speech loss episodes as well, which then interferes with being able to communicate what i need in that moment too.

~

and needing help requires so much vulnerability, often i have people willing to help. safe people, who i love and the logical part of me knows would never actually hurt me. but with traumas and triggers, sometimes i just dont shower, or dont change my clothes, or i hold my urine in, or dont do some other things if i require help.

(and having experiences that match a PDA autism profile, whether from trauma or autism or a mix of both idk. can make all that worse too. i deny my own needs, even when i can do them, because my body is trying to demand it from me, which feels like a threat to my autonomy and choices.)

on the phsyical capabilities level though, i try to wait it out as long as i can until i can muster the energy and abilities to do something myself, or until i cant wait longer and need help. ill try to orient myself to remind i am safe, and sometimes just have to face those emotions, face those triggers.

i know that sounds bad, and i mean it is bad. i dont want to downplay it too much, but i also think its a fairly normal response to the things have have happened to me, and the loss of control my illnesses cause/create/exacerbate.

i have all the supports in place to be able to recieve that help, im often needing that help, but i need to try to hold onto control and autonomy as much as possible that id rather be lacking in my hygeine (especially bc im not even leaving the house or being very active to get sweaty or gross), or have abdominal pain from holding urine/bowel movements in, than traumatize myself if i might just be able to wait a longer until i have the ability to transfer myself and clean myself.

-

my mental illnesses and PTSD affect my willingness to recieve the help from safe and well meaning people even when i do need it. and that then further can affect my mental and/or phsyical health.

like, its just a really shitty situation, that im still trying to learn the best way to cope with. trying to find the best way to let myself recieve help. to let myself to vulnerable, to truly /feel/ that its safe to ask for help even. not logically know, but actually feel it.

thankfully, my main caregiver is respectful of my "no's", and even if shell emphasize if i need to shower, check ive ate or drank water, and offer me help if i need it, she respects when i say "i need help but i dont want it, ill let you know when it gets to the point you need to be hands-on."

shes well meaning, but we still have some communication issues, especially when i have alot more speech issues, and can struggle to communicate to her.

i often think others can read my mind, not in the delusion way, but in the sense that i assume others can read my body lanaguge (even when im not being physically expressive, flat face, etc), and that the way i feel and the things i need are just already understood by others.

and i dont always realize how different some of my thinking patterns/needs are from others as well, and assume they experience some of the same things, so they are just automatically understand.

-

and ive had multiple instances now, when i was having anaphalaxis, but have traumas around needles i cant control (and auto injectors count as a needle i cant control). ive had to wait until i was too incapacitated from an allergic reaction, to have my mom inject me with an epipen.

i am mentally incapable of injecting an auto injector, and will physically resist when capable too even if i want the epinephrine. i can get really severe flashbacks just /thinking/ about needles being inside me. i cannot get the body to do it.

so, i have given prior consents for her to be able to inject me with an epipen if im having really bad reactions even if i say no. but she has had to wait until im too weak or sick, or just dissociated and disconnected and in fawn/flop/freeze rather than fight/flight, to inject me.

so its at least not too bad of a trauma, but it is still extremely traumatic. to need that, and to need someone i love and feel safe with, need to be the person that injects that needle i cant control.

---

well, this was a very long responses. seems when i do post, i write alot. i can struggle to condense and summarize things well, so i apologize if there was too many details or words.

just writing to the void of the internet, a world of strangers and bots. so if feels like i can be more open i think.

i cant speak for everyone but i feel like it's underrated just how much impact being physically disabled has on mental health. because physically disabled people often have to remind others that we struggle with mental health issues that it sometimes sounds like an afterthought to others. but it's a real impact of being physically disabled. being unable to go outside or leave the bed worsens depression. having actively declining health worsens depression because part of depression is being unable to imagine a future for yourself. it also creates anxiety. you have to rely on people. on carers, family, the government. it's hard to assure anxiety when you are in a precarious position and the "worst case scenario" is not something you can circumvent or deal with, because lack of care will kill you. has killed people like you. being told you are worthless, that people like you should die or never live in the first place has a big impact on mental health. being physically disabled and unable to defend yourself, being forced to rely on people, opens up a lot of opportunities for abuse and trauma. being in pain is traumatic, medical procedures may be traumatic - and being a disabled child leads you to be doubly vulnerable. people often have to focus on their physical needs to keep them alive - to keep them clean and fed and such. and with such little energy to spare it is difficult to manage mental health. all the stigma surrounding mental health doesn't disappear because you're already disabled. sometimes when you do reach out people will just focus on trying to make you less disabled in order to cure the mental illness issue, instead of giving you the tools to help manage it in your current and real life.

[satellitespinner]

merry christmas, please dont call. (e.w) ❆

⁺₊❆⋆ ୨⎯ merry christmas, im not yours at all. merry christmas, please dont call. ⎯୧ ⁺₊❆⋆

pairings: ex!ellie x ex!oc/reader

synopsis: an involuntary trip back to your hometown brings back unwanted memories of the girl who broke your heart years before. when youre met with her unexpectedly, you have to decide wether or not to pursue her, or give her a taste of her own medicine. or maybe both.

wc: 6.7k (SMUT; ellie eats pussy then yall ✂️✂️.. angst, cheating, crying, slight comfort but no happy ending, reader is an offputting bitch who cries alot. joel and DINA mention!!!!!! the words and and you are used alot.. oc is shorter than ellie & has hair.)

MERRY CHRISTMAS DYKES IN MY PHONEEE !!! ilysm! im so excited to post this holy fucking shit shyt. interact i beg u. reblogs and comments are encouraged i loveee talking to you guys sm!!! 🫵🏼 come ttm and ill talk back! heavily inspired by my twin @coeurify !! i suggest you go read ttds 1 before reading this!

Christmas of freshman year Ellie bought you a bouquet of red and yellow flowers, you cried.

Christmas of sophomore year she burned you a cd with your shared playlist on it. She titled it ‘our songs” and you cried.

The next year she wrote you a song, it was truly beautiful. it made you cry.

Christmas of senior year was different. That year, your parents decided to use the break to visit universities and then stay at a nearby family member's house for the holiday. Before you left Ellie managed to gift you a shiny heart pendant with her initial carved onto the front and a picture of you two glued to the inside. you cried, hugged her, and told her you loved her.

The Christmas before you left for university Ellie broke up with you. This was the hardest you cried in five years.

So much for a Merry Christmas.

That was two years ago. you haven’t been back to your hometown since then, simply because you knew you couldn’t bear to face her. Going back to Jackson meant running into Ellie, and you weren’t ready for that.

until now, apparently.

your dearest mother had called you and told you that if you didn’t come back this year all your shit was going to the goodwill. Maybe Ellie wasn’t the only reason you avoided your hometown.

So here you were, driving the sickly long drive to the closest place to hell on earth. you had to stop four times because your tears were blurring your vision. when you were finally met with the “Welcome to Jackson” sign, you threw up in your mouth. your driveway mocked you as you sat in your car attempting to collect yourself. you contemplated turning around, driving back to campus and telling your mom to burn your stuff for all you care. But, you didn’t. it was late and you needed sleep. so you pulled your keys out of the ignition, grabbed your belongings and made your way to the front door. your parents greeted you with tights hugs and uncomfortable small talk.

“How’s school, sweetheart?” your mom asked, your dad sneaking off to bring your bags to your old bedroom. “its school.” you kept you answers curt. not trying to engage in useless conversation at this hour. your mom picked up on your exhaustion and excused you with a tight lipped smile. the second you entered your room you regretted the entire trip. she was everywhere. pictures of you kissing on your dresser, her hoodies in your closet and of course, her initial still around your neck, above your heart.

you walked around the room, your cheeks already wet with tears. you picked up a photo that you couldn’t bring yourself to throw out when it ended. it was you and ellie snuggled up on dina’s couch, taken by her of course. you both looked so peaceful. the photo began to blur as the tears really started to fall. your legs gave out underneath you, causing you to fall against the wall. it was like a scene from a movie, a pathetic one at that.

You couldn’t remember exactly when you had fallen asleep, but it was late. you woke up in a fetal position on the floor, with an old picture of you and Ellie held tightly to your chest. your poor back..

the morning was still, your parents were still sleeping when you woke up, something you were very much grateful for considering the amount of questions you knew were to come your way when they did finally wake up. you set the picture back in its place hesitantly.

the lower level of your house was cold, the cold floors hitting your feet woke you up as you made your way to the kitchen. almost immediately upon arrival you decided that your mothers coffee brand wouldn’t do. she always bought the gross nutmeg flavoured creamer.

coffee shop in town it is!

you always hated ben’s, the coffee was mediocre at best and priced at a whopping seven dollars, but it would suffice for today. at least until you could get to the grocery store. the walk was short, thank god. you grabbed your jacket and scarf from the hook and made your way out the door. you were surprised, but relieved that you hadn’t had the misfortune of running into anyone you used to know.

The cafe had a welcoming atmosphere that you knew all too well, yet grew to despise. you ended up hating most parts of this town, the tight knit community, the overpriced coffee, everything. then you left. in your final days of staying in jackson, it was like you were gasping for air. then finally after you had gone to university, you could breathe again.

“Is that who I think it is?!” the cashier beamed from their place behind the counter. you could recognize that voice anywhere. the voice of riley abel, a girl you had gone to school with. she was voted most likely to move far away after grad, how ironic.

‘Hey, riley. how are you?” you asked as you walked up to the counter, trying your absolute best to sound interested. you zoned out as she rambled on about her life.

you picked at your fingernails while she spoke, her voice a distant muffle. you didn’t want to be rude and tell her to shut up, but damn this girl couldn’t talk.

“Anyways, how are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!” she smiled and you couldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m doing fine.” she took your awkward answer as a hint and switched the subject. small talk should be banned.

“So what can i get for you?” she asks, typing away at the ipad on the counter. you contemplated for a moment before answering. you skimmed the menu for the cheapest option that didn’t taste like shit.

“I’ll get a medium french vanilla, please.” you grab your phone from your pocket, opting for apple pay instead of cash. she gives you a small, forced smile. “your total is eight dollars and twenty-five cents. cash or card?” your eyes widen at the price. “card, please.” she nods and passes you the pin pad. you gently tap your phone on the top of it as she begins to make your coffee.

A few minutes pass before riley calls you back up to the counter. she handed you a small cup with your name written on the side, along with a small smiley face. you thanked her and smiled at her small act of kindness.

your walk home is longer, many of the places you used to frequent, bustling with people that you could recognize by face. you almost stopped a few times, pausing and staring into oblivion. you never had the guts to actually enter though.

when you arrived back home you parents were sitting around the dining table, your dad, fairly engaged in the newspaper greets you with a smile. your mother doesnt look up from her phone until you speak. “Saw riley at bennys.” she hums and looks you up and down, it was like no matter where you went there was some weird tension in the air.

“You couldn’t have made coffee at home?” she snarks, tipping her glasses off her nose. “Just wanted some fresh air.” you reply nervously, not wanting to be fighting with her already. clearly your attempts worked because she stopped there. you swallowed the lump in your throat and retreated to your room.

you weren't sure what you were going to occupy yourself for these two weeks, packing up all the shit you wanted wouldn't take more than a few hours. you contemplated just taking your belongings and going back but you knew your mom would disapprove with that idea.

you decided that the most worthwhile decision for now would be to resume your place in a current book you were reading, a silly romcom you were gifted by your roommate before you came home. at least until your mother asked you to help her bake some cookies, or run to target for some last minute christmas gifts.

six chapters in and you were finally starting to get into it when you get a text. a text from Dina, a close highschool friend. you tried to stay in contact after you left, but the relationship fizzled out into short happy birthdays, and merry christmases.

D-Dawg💘

Hey! i heard from riley that you're back for break, we all miss you.

You laugh at the corny name you assigned to her contact in high school, the name had blossomed after a drunk comment from jesse, comparing her to a dog simply because of her big brown eyes.

D-Dawg💘

were having a little get together tonight, if you’re up to it you should come by. you're always welcome.

you decided to ignore the message for now, you weren't really up for the whole forced small talk that came with seeing all your old friends again. as far as you knew they were all still hanging out, everyday, without you. instead you decided to resume your place in your book, hoping to find some sort of entertainment in it.

you’re in the middle of chapter twelve of your book, Wes and Liz had just gotten into an accident in the rain when your mom calls you down stairs. you trot down the stairs, phone in hand. when you arrive, you stick on the last step, the wooden floors still cold. you're greeted with your mother in her signature bird print apron.

“Did you wanna help me with the baking, or were you just gonna sulk in your room all break?” she asks. you clear your throat and step down the last step. you shove your phone into your hoodie pocket, “Yeah ill help, i’d love to.”

“Babe, get your damn fingers outa the cookie dough!” ellie laughs as she grabs your wrist, pulling you out of the batter. you had forced her into baking with you after you saw a stupid couples tiktok. “Relax, its just us eating them anyway.” you defend, you even noticed your precious girlfriend sneaking chocolate chips from the bowl once in a while.

“Yeah, well i don't play about my christmas cookies.” she puts her hands on her hips and glares at you jokingly. you giggle at her actions. “We can tell, fatty.” you joke, her eyes widen and her jaw drops. “What did you just say!?” her slack jaw turning into a toothy smile quickly.

“Nothin’ i didn't say nothin’” you laugh and turn back to shaping the cookies. she steps closer to you and places her hands on either sides of your hips. “Well, thats weird. cause’ I definitely heard something.” she starts moving her fingers in slow circles over your pj pants, her lips meeting your neck slowly.

“hell, ellie. why are you the horniest woman on the planet.” you drop your final cookie onto the tray and turn around to face her, her hands now moving to the sides of your face. “Not my fault I have the prettiest girlfriend ever.” she states, matter of factly. her lips now kissing your own, causing you to smile against her. you move your hands to the back of her neck, slowly twirling with the back of her hair. you both giggle against each others lips, “I love you” you whispered against her. “i love you too, baby.”

the soft moment was interrupted by the oven beeping, signaling it was time to finally bake the cookies. she pulls her hands off of your hips and reaches for the pan, nodding at you to open the oven. “Careful, don't burn yourself.” you open the oven door enough for her to slip the tray in without accidentally knocking her hand against the wall and giving herself third degree burns (again)

you both high five once the cookies were in the oven baking. “i think we make a pretty good team!” you say as you turn the tap on to wash the dough off your hands. “Hell yeah we do, baby!” ellie shouts, smacking your ass. you laugh loudly at her antics. “Ouch ellie!” you cry, pulling a towel off the counter to dry off your hands. she rolls her eyes at your exaggeration.

“Sorry, babe. want me to kiss it better?”

“Will you shut up?”

Baking cookies with your mother was a stressful, if not brutal experience. she was a bossy, nitpicky perfectionist. it was like you could never do anything right with her, everything had to be 100% perfect. she would argue that you weren't trying or you didn't care, but you did. if anything you cared too much.

“I told you to do it like this! not whatever you're doing.” she scolded and nearly ripped the bowl from your hands, demonstrating how she really wanted it done. you throw your hands in the air, “I am, fuck!” you whisper yelled in frustration. your mother abruptly dropped the bowl onto the counter. “Don't you swear at me!” she pointed her pointer finger in your face.

“Oh my god.” you mumbled under your breath. you brought two of your fingers to your temples and squeezed tightly, trying to calm yourself down. “What is your problem?!” your mother crossed her arms as she yelled. “I cant fucking- I cant do this! this is exhausting!” you quickly untied your apron and tossed it on the counter. throwing yourself up the stairs. your mother followed behind you.

“If I'm so exhausting then why don't you pack your shit and get out of my house, huh?!” she shouted, grabbing onto your arm, you pulled it away from her. “Because! you asked me to come! i thought we could've had a normal christmas for once!” by now you had salty tear drops racing down your cheeks, it wasn't pretty.

“well i shouldn't have. so that was my mistake.” she stops on the stairs when she says this. your heart stops for a moment when she says this. the tears come harder when you slam your door shut and lock it.

right now you felt like you were a teenager again, petty arguments with your mom is when you needed ellie the most, you would hop out your window and run to her house. she welcomed you with open arms and told you how much she loved you. she would hold you for hours and whisper praises into your ears while you cried.

But right now, at this moment you couldn't do that, because there was no more ellie.

After scream sobbing into your pillow like an angry child, you fell asleep.

you woke up with a throbbing headache and the need for water. you also woke up to a few unread messages from a few of your friends from highschool.

Jesseee

Hey, r u coming tn? dina said she invited u but u didn’t answer. We miss U

smartass (derogatory)

hi its abby! heard ur in town

smartass (derogatory)

we should hangout before you leave!

you sighed and glanced up at the time. 8:04pm. you had two options, go pack to sleep, or stay up and wallow in self pity. or-

D-Dawg💘

were having a little get together tonight, if you’re up to it you should come by. you're always welcome

hii dina, i’d love to see you! what time does it start? :)

D-Dawg💘

8! didnt think u were gonna reply! but def come by!

her reply came fairly quick. you glanced up at the time on your phone, 6;00. you could work with that. two hours to make sure you look good, just in case you see.. she who shall not be named. you pulled your suitcase out from under your bed. you rummaged for a few minutes until you were met with the one dress you brought with you because you knew your parents had some stupid family dinner planned for christmas day. the dress was modest, classy but not too fancy. next was your makeup makeup bag. you decided to keep your makeup simple too, so you looked good, but not like you were trying to look good.

you brought your makeup bag to the bathroom and started the shower. you usually tried to be quick with your showers considering you were using the only bathroom in the house. you let the warm water hit the back of your neck. for a while, you just sat. sat and stared at the wall. the longer you did this though, the higher your anxieties got. finally, after your neck started to burn from the water, you got on with your business, scrubbing your skin raw and washing your hair as quick as you could. you might be a little late..

after an hour and four almost-breakdowns you had gotten your hair to cooperate. you knew your makeup wouldn’t take long to get done so you before you started you checked your phone. no new notifications from anyone except dina, a simple follow up text of “it will be fun, i promise.” you debated asking her to confirm your fears of ellie’s attendance. maybe knowing would calm you just a bit.

Is she gonna be there?

please be honest.

D-Dawg 💘

she was invited, im not sure if she’ll show up though.

D-Dawg💘

Please don’t stress over this though. its been so long.

im aware, but its still scary

plus you’re all still friends. im not really part of

that anymore.

D-Dawg💘

maybe you guys could talk about it?

i can’t do that. you know i can’t

i will literally die.

likr

my life will end.

D-Dawg💘

sighs loudly…..

fine. but if she comes you

aren’t irish goodbying out my back door.

…

MAYBE.

see u soon -_-

you turned up your music and then shut off your phone, leaving it face down on the counter as you began your makeup. you gently hummed along with the lyrics as the soft brushes worked over your skin. the delicate touches reminding you of ellie’s gentle fingers tracing soft shapes into your cheeks as you slept in her arms. she was never scared to hold you, to tightly pull you into her body and keep you warm.

by the time you had finished your makeup and wiggled into your dress, it was 7:45. the drive to dinas wasn’t long and you didn't want to get there early and be left to awkwardly wait around for everyone else to arrive. so you decided to scroll on your phone to pass the time.

at 8:12 you pulled into dina’s driveway and immediately noticed the differences in her home. the christmas decorations were no longer over the top, and the driveway was shoveled neatly. dina had told you to just let yourself in when you arrived. your hand shook with anxiety as you reached the doorknob. you took one last deep breath and entered the house.

“Bitch, you’re unseasoned chicken.” are the first words you hear as you shut dinas door. you easily recognize jesses voice, throwing insults at abby over a heated card game.

“yikes.” you say, heads turn in your direction. you awkwardly laugh at the group reaction. “I told you she was coming, you dummies.” Dina shouted, her voice booming from the kitchen as she walked over to you, pulling you into a firm embrace.

you scanned the room for any sign of ellie. well, there were many things that could be considered signs of ellie around the house. like the homemade ornaments on dina’s tree. you had all had a sleepover one night in sophomore year and decided to create little hand painted ornaments for fun. ellie’s was a painting of the four of you as stick figures, yours and ellie’s had a big red heart painted over the top of their heads.

the memories flooded in as you stared down the tree, to anyone else this probably would’ve looked really weird, but your friends new. jesses voice interrupts your thoughts, you tore your eyes from the tree to look at him.

“she hasn’t shown up yet.”

and she never did.

Ellies absence didn't make the night any better, however. you hoped it would but it didn't. you were still bombarded with questions that you weren’t quite sure how to answer. dina had probably asked you about a thousand times to just talk to her! but you refused. you were not about to start up a conversation with your ex like nothing had happened between you two. especially when it was her shitty actions, not yours.

you didn't regret going but by the time it was time for you to leave you were happy to do so, your friends bargained with you to stay the night like the rest of them but you politely declined. you did promise to see then all properly before you headed back to campus, though. stating that a proper hangout was long overdue.

after you had said your goodbyes dina had offered to walk you out to your car, you told her you would be fine but she persisted.

“So, ellie texted me.” she slowed to a stop with her arms crossed. you sighed and turned around to face her, leaning your body against your car. “Do i even wanna know?” you roll your eyes. dina steps closer to you, joining you against the hood of your car. dina chuckles, trying to recall ellie’s exact words. “said she wanted to talk, she sounded apologetic” she looks up at you. scanning your face for any emotions.

“Dina-“

“Please, just listen.” she interrupts, “i miss my best friends, everyone misses you guys. nothings been the same since.” her voice going from firm and loud, to a shaky whisper. you sighed.

“I know, D. this is hard for me too. you’d think it would've gotten easier to be here, in this town but its not. i feel like i can’t breathe.” dina nods in understanding. you softly sniffle, the cold air makes your face tighten. the both of you stay silent for a while. dina knew there was more to be said, but she didn’t want to push you.

“I’m sorry.” dina looks back up at your face, her voice now held a panicked tone. you close your eyes, throwing up your hand in a worn out manner, “It’s fine-

“But its not! you’re my best fucking friend. and even though it felt like shit when you just- up and ghosted us, i understand why.” she she paused for a moment, moving her body from beside you to standing in front of you, mirroring you. “And i understand if you never wanna see ellie again, but i missed you so bad, so fucking bad.” at this point shes crying, fat tears run down her cheeks. you coo and bring her into your arms.

”oh dina, if anything i should be the one apologizing.” the shorter woman sobs into your shoulder. you both cried into each other like a cheesy soap opera. this was the one thing you missed about being in jackson. “i missed you so much”

The sound of your doorbell reverberated across your house, “ill get it!” you ran so fast to the door that you had tripped over your own feet a few times. you opened the door to reveal ellie and joel behind it. a small smile growing on her face when it was in fact you who opened the door and not your mother.

“You look pretty” she says as she walks in,you thank her with a small kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas!” you greet joel quickly before he retreats to the kitchen, probably to drink wine and gossip with your parents. “I like your sweater.” you look her up and down, gesturing to the wool sweater that adorned her figure.

“Oh thanks, My girlfriend got it for me!” she says sarcastically, you roll your eyes at her stupid joke. “Yeah, I know.” you grab her by the wrist and tug her up the stairs to your bedroom. you shuffled her into your room and quickly shut the door behind you.

“Would you care to see your gift?” you asked, in a pretend seductive voice. she nodded persistently and shot you a toothy grin. “Perfect!” you clap your hands together and open up your closet, retrieving a small red box with a big green ribbon wrapped around the top.

you couldn’t contain your excitement when you handed her the gift, your body was seen to be vibrating in its place. “C’mon, ellie! openitopenitopeni-“ you ramble, basically throwing the box at her. “Okay! Okay! Slow down, babe.” you both sit down on the bed, you place your arms on her shoulders. at this point you were seething in excitement.

“Holy fuck.. you didnt.” her eyes practically shoot out of her head, staring at the object in the box, a white envelope sticking out from underneath. she turns to you shocked.

“How did you even-” she grabs the walkman and few tapes out of the box. you shrug, “Antique stores are great places.” she puts the cassette into the device, the one that you were able to get your dad to burn your playlist into. the others being the smashing pumpkins and nirvana.

“Do you love it?” she doesnt answer, instead throwing herself onto you, holding you tightly. holding fistfuls of your sweater, your wrap your arms around her and kiss her forehead. “I knew you would!”

after fiddling with the foreign object for a few minutes ellie figures out how to turn it on and off, she passes you one of the wired headphones and slips the other into her own ear. The polices ‘Every breath you take’ begins playing into your singular headphone. ellie added it to your joined playlist because she swears its the song that plays every time she looks at you. How corny.

You two sit for a few moments, just listening to the lyrics.

I’ll be watching you

(every breath you take)

(every move you make)

you suddenly feel her looking at you, you turn your head to meet her gaze. her eyes were practically hearts, she looked so smitten. you smile at her and lay your head completely onto the bed and ellie sits up, careful to not disconnect the headphones from your ears. “what’re you doing?” you asked in a hushed tone. she shakes her head, “Just looking at you.” her face shifts from soft admiration to something different. then suddenly, her lips are slotted in between your own.

(every single day)

(every word you say)

she gently rubs her hand up and down your side as she moves her lips against yours, your hand making its way to the side of her face. you sighed into her mouth and gently moved your arm around to the back of her neck. your legs tangled together effortlessly when she pulls away from you. “I love you.” she whispers, you look up at her, your faces almost touching. “I love you too.” you almost moan when she dips her head back down to continue kissing you.

I’ll be watching you

That Christmas ended up being the night that you took each others virginity and tried to hide it from your nosy parents, who of course, noticed right away but didn't say anything.

Your mother and father left early in the morning to go see some of your extended family, you planned to go meet them later in the day so for now you were left by yourself to wait. you anxiety was high, but the hard part was almost over. after your dinner with your family you could shove all your things into your trunk and leave. you'd be back in the comfort of your apartment before December 26th.

For most of the afternoon you found yourself lazing around, watching movies that you've seen a thousand times before. you sigh to yourself, glancing over at the clock which reads 5:00. you decide to start getting ready.

you had just finished your makeup, your hair still tied up and your body clad in pajama when the doorbell rings. How strange you thought to yourself. who could possibly be showing up for your parents at 5pm on christmas day.

“I’m coming!” you shouted from the stairs, feet quickly moving down the steps. you probably should’ve looked through the peephole before ripping the door open because to your unpleasant surprise you were met with-

“Ellie?” your eyes widen at the sight before you. your ex girlfriend was outside your door with a bouquet of flowers and tears in her eyes.

“Hi- Hey.” she looks just as surprised as you. her green eyes wider than ever. she looked different, her usually half up, half down was now cut into a thinner mullet like haircut. you had tried avoiding any news of ellie since you moved, so her look was entirely new to you.

“What the fuck are you doing here.” you asked, your voice harsh but quiet. she looks at you in disbelief, “I- Dina told me to come see you.” she whispers. Of course she did.

“Why, Ellie.” you pause, crossing your arms. “I haven't spoken to you in almost three years, and now you're outside my door. Why?” she now looks disappointed with your reaction. she had partially hoped that you would throw yourself into her arms and tell her you missed her. but she knew that would never be.

“I messed up,” she looks down at her shoes, you clearly weren't having her half asses words. you sigh loudly. before you could shoo her away dhe interrupts you.

“I did you so dirty, and- i cant forgive myself for it. but youre the only person i've ever loved, truly.” she pleads with you unbeknownst to you, as your eyes stayed glued to the ground. “Would you please look at me-”

“I don't owe you anything ellie.” you snap, you did fulfill her request however, your eyes meeting her frantic ones. “i dont have to accept your stupid apology, why the fuck would i, ellie? what you did- what you did was so wrong. and i should hate you for it.” you slowly step out of the house, your angry pointer finger meeting her chest. tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“and im sorry, im so fucking sorry, baby. i couldn't even live with myself after what happened.” her final words making the tears finally start to stream down your face. you hadn't expected her to admit that, especially not with you practically beating your fist into her chest. but she did.

she notices your tears and grabs you by your face, she holds you as your legs buckle beneath you, something she didn't do years prior on this exact day. something she shouldn't have had to do. “Im sorry.” she whispered into your hair. her flowers now long discarded, and you crying into her arms on your parents front porch.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Ellie?” you cried, your body tensing up after her heartbreaking confession, you peered at her through wet eyelashes. and she couldn't even look at you.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered, fingers fiddling with the rings adorning her hands, the hands that held you whenever you cried, the hands that had made you see heaven just nights prior.

“You're breaking up with me cause why? ellie. im still confused as to what the fuck is happening right now.” your expression is one of incredulity.

“baby, don't do this.” your eyes widen, you couldnt fucking believe her. “Do not baby me, ellie. you’re fucking breaking up with me right now because what? did you fuck her?” her head shoots up from her lap, her bottom lip wabbling between her teeth.

“No! i- we didn't, i would never-” you scoff, rolling your eyes at her actions. trying desperately to hide the fact that she had just broke your heart into a million pieces. “Do you love her?” you ask quietly, the question you had been avoiding since the beginning in fear of its answer.

“I dunno. i just-”

“youre breaking up with me to be with her ellie so you better know if you fuckin’ love her or not.” you spit, your words harsh, but in reality you were about to have a full blown panic attack.

“I do.” she admits. and suddenly your whole world comes crashing down, four years you had wasted just for her to leave you for a girl she met two weeks ago.

your tears became heavy and all of a sudden it was hard to breathe. your vision quickly blurred, your hands shook as you lifted your glass to your lips. and your headache was hard to deny, you needed to lay down.

Your ears rung, ellie still trying to justify her unlawful acts. all you could really hear were clusters of “im sorry, Not your fault-” you sobbed uncontrollably.

Fuck you, Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou-

“are you two ready for your menus yet?” the waitress had came out of nowhere, a sweet girl who clearly had accidentally walked in to something she couldn't just ignore.

ellie kept her head down and you made eye contact with the waitress Ruth her name tag read, “No, actually. we’re done here. Well- I am. she might be waiting for someone else.” you point at ellie, and her head raises. you quickly stand up and begin to quickly shuffle your belongings into your purse.

you wished she at least had the decency to do this in the comfort of your own home, where you could kick her out if need be, but now the entire restaurant was watching as you ran out the door with snot dripping down your nose and mascara running from your eyes to your chest. You tuned out her inescapable voice and walked all the way home.

After a long, exhausting five minutes, ellie convinced you to let her take you inside and clean you up. she wiped the mascara off of your under eyes and kissed your forehead.

“Thanks.” you muttered. “Don't mention it.” she smiled, she placed the flowers on the counter beside where you sat. you examined them, a beautiful bouquet of red and yellow flowers, like the ones she had gotten you your first christmas together. you smile at the thought. remembering your innocent love.

“what are you smiling about? hm?” she asks, you look up at her, “just thinking, about us.” she inhales a sharp breath at that. “what could've been.” you finish, reaching for the flowers, holding them in your lap.

she walks over to you, your knees now touching the front of her jean thighs thighs. “or.. what can be?” she looks down at you, an overly hopeful look on her face.

“Ellie,” you sigh, you seemed to be doing that a lot today. “I cant just let you back in like that. i mean- when did you and Cat even break up?”

“last year, october.” you nod, swallowing whatever was in your throat. “i see.” the room filling with a heavy tension. your intense eye contact has you shifting on the counter.

“Will you kiss me?” you whisper, what the fuck were you doing? she opens her mouth slightly, before grabbing you by your waist. kissing you softly, before she realized what you wanted. you moaned at the contact, and she kissed you harder.

“fuck, okay, okayokay.” she stops for a moment, you look at her confused. “are you sure you wanna do this right now?.” you nod, profusely.

she moves her hands under your shirt, quickly lifting it off your body. “No bra?” she smirks, you roll your eyes. and reach for her own T-Shirt. you slipped it off with ease, unknowingly biting your lip at the sight before you.

she grabs you again, slotting her lips between your own, you wrap your legs around her waist.

“your room?” she whispers against you, “couch.” you confirm. Ellie drops you onto the cushions, you grab at your sweats, quickly lifting your hips to get them off. ellie, preoccupied with taking her own pants off.

“fuck, you’re beautiful.” she positions her body against yours, her lips trailing from behind your esr, all the way down to your lower stomach. small praises leaving your lips at her wet kisses.

she begins to move her lips towards your clit, sticking her tongue out and licking a dtrip over your underwear. “Ellie, please.” you whimper, hips bucking up into her face. she looks up at you and begins to slip your underwear off your body.

“Fuck, youre so wet.” she observed, moving her finger to play in between your folds. you eagerly bite your lip, her face admiring you from her position between your legs. you moan softly as she begins to eat you out, swirling small circles on your soft button. “Oh, ellie!” you whimpered, your body twitching against her mouth.

“ohmygod, baby.” she moans into you, slowly slipping s single finger in and out of your sopping hole, your moans growing increasingly loud, your eyes meet her own when you entangle your hand into her hair, pulling fightly at the back if her neck.

your back arches as she adds another finger, your release so close you can feel the sweat dripping down your back. “Im cuming! ellie, ellieellie!” you scream as she fucks you through your orgasm, her fingers slightly slowing down before she pulls them out.

you beckon her between your legs again when she lift your head from between your legs, she slots her legs between yours, slowly starting ti grind into you. “missed this pussy s’bad baby.” she groans as she continues to move her hips, speeding up as she pleases. “mhm,” you moan, greedily grinding back up into her, small whimpers starting to leave her throat at the feeling of your pussy on hers.

“Tell me you love me, ellie” you ask, your voice breathy. her head snaps down, looking down at you. her movements speed up as she looos at you.

“W-What?”

“Tell me you love me.” you bump your clit against her sweet spot and she moans. “I love you, fuck! so much, i love you soso much.” she could feel her orgasm creeping up on her, she speeds up her movements between your legs. your grab at her brests, pinching her nipples between your pointer and thumb. “you gonna come?” she bites her lip, nodding at your question.

“cum all over my pussy, please ellie.” you moan loudly, her fluid slowly leaking out of her and onto you. you quicken your hips, ellies lip finding home between her teeth until she suddenly falls into you, both of you moan when she untangled your legs.

“fuck.” she whispers, looking down at the mess that spread between the two of you, connecting you. you slowly lift yourself into a now sitting position. gingerly adjusting yourself so that you don't irritate your already sensitive nerves.

“so.” ellie starts, looking over at you, her eyes again filled with hope. you sigh quietly. “So, im gonna pee and you're gonna be gone by the time im done.” you state matter-of-factly as you stand up, slipping you oversized shirt back over your body. she shakes her head in confusion. “What?! But i thought-”

“you thought what, ellie? that i was just going to let you come back? you broke my fucking heart.” you can see her starting to tear up but you ignore the fact. instead slipping your underwear back on but discarding your pants.

“i told you it was a mistake! baby, i love you!” you scoff, your lips curling up into a smile, how fucking ridiculous.

“Listen to me ellie. Im going to go pee and you're going to go home. and then, tomorrow, im going to leave this fucking town forever and i swear to god you will never fucking see me again.” you argued, ellie still sitting there, with no clothes on. you didn't think she deserved your forgiveness. You felt guilty for denying her in such a vulnerable state but you convinced yourself that she deserved it.

you begin to walk up the stairs, you can hear her stand up from the couch and slip into her clothes once again. without turning around to face her you bid your final goodbyes,

“Tell your fiancée i said hi.”

unbeknownst to ellie, you had noticed the wedding band that shined around her left ring finger. that was when you decided not to let her back in.

[alchemicaladarna]

I think I kinda wanna talk about the differences between q!Bad and tr!Bad for a second because these past few lore interactions allowed me to sort of (but not really yet lol) piece together what kind of person tr!bad is and how fundamentally different yet the same he is from q!bad.

Bad, as a character, is immortal. Seen a lot of shit, been through a lot of shit. That's an understatement. Is kinda numb to all of it. The only difference is that q!Bad had a Reason as to why he didn't blatantly engage in that chaos. He only wanted to keep the Eggs (his nieces, nephews, children) safe- and they were his Achilles heel. He kinda went absolutely batshit insane when the eggs went missing; people will always say he was ruthless during purgatory after all, but at the end of the day he reaped and suffered his consequences. He died for the Eggs because they were the reason.

Tr!bad has made it clear now, time and time again that he is not laying down his own life to save someone else's. At the end of the day, he plays for himself- no attachments and no reason for weakness. He can be as chaotic and crazy as he wants because he has nothing to lose. He has no reason. Nothing to live for except himself maybe, and that's where the main difference between qsmp and The Realm Bad lies.

Just consider q!Bad's narrative of selflessness and tr!Bad's narrative of doing things for his own personal gain and tell me you're not clawing at your walls and violently sobbing cuz that's me rn (⁠✷⁠‿⁠✷⁠)

[awfydreich]

In my own uncle related gifting story, for a good while he was essentially the only family I had although we weren't that close and I barely saw him growing up. But he checked in every now and then and we exchanged christmas gifts

Anyway he's very into music (an interest he knows we share) and still only listens to cd's, so I always made an effort to find him something new (to him) that I thought he'd really like, or maybe something rarer that he wouldn't have, and nailed it all but one time

Even had to get one sent from France one time, which was delayed and barely made it so I walked 3 miles late after work on xmas eve to quitely post it through his mail slot so he'd have it on time. So I was always a bit disappointed when every year without fail I got a generic set of pyjamas (I say generic, more like hideous - in garish colours and prints that anyone who's met me for 10 mins would know is the polar opposite of anything I'd ever wear)

Contrast this with last year when I got an unexpected gift from a coworker who I wasn't particularly close to, but I worked with a lot and got on well with - although we couldn't be more different (and would be the first to admit that they somehow exist in the world without noticing any bit of it, I say this with fondness)

Now I know they only did this bc they knew that I had nobody in my life and wouldn't otherwise have gotten anything. And my first thought was 'oh that's a really sweet gesture' but also 'yikes... I'm at pity gift from a coworker just out of their teens levels of pathetic'. Anyway though when I opened it, it was a whole bunch of just small even very generic things like chocolate bars, a candle etc. But it was all stuff very tailored to me and all things I specifically liked, and showed how much they'd really paid attention in our offhand conversations and interactions and I was honestly so touched it was possibly the most thoughtful gift I might have ever received?

I genuinely believe that when it comes to gift-giving, just saying what you want is cheating. Gifts are a way of communicating your ongoing awareness of a person---a good gift says ''I have been paying attention to you in a hundred moments, all the off-hours and sidelong comments, and this is what I learned," while a bad gift is "idk, I got you this, it was expensive."

[libraford]

Misty Copeland, my beloved.

I can't even say that 'appreciation' is the word, at least in the case of bellydance. It's just what happens when a culture touches another. Because 'bellydance' itself is a very broad term that encompasses a variety of dance styles that may have no verifiable country of origin.

Correct me of I'm wrong, of course!

Under a cut because apparently I'm infodumping on dance history.

The best we have as an origin people are the Ghawazee, and today's style looks very little like their practice (which is still taught by it's sole remaining member). But the people traveled before settling in Egypt, so a clear origin is difficult to pinpoint. And you do hear claims that bellydance is Egyptian, and while it's not untrue, it's not the entire story- Ghawazee spent some time in Egypt and the style stuck around to have a stylistic exchange. And a lot of the old Hollywood depictions of bellydance are something between this cultural fusion and awalim. All of these styles, and so many more of that region, informed each other and inspired each other as trade routes between countries became more common, and the Ottoman Empire brought it northward as far as modern day Austria.

And the dance style has been criticized pretty much everywhere it goes. Like our earliest footage of the dance was as a Victorian sideshow that was considered by the primarily white male audience to be vulgar. But as Egyptian film made this style more easily accessed, fondness for it grew, and we enter Golden Age of Bellydance- which was not always not the most culturally sensitive depiction, but it gave a lot of dancers a chance to show their skills to a wider audience- and now women want to learn it too! Teachers pop up everywhere, even though it's still considered a little risque in many cultures.

Bellydance was being seen all over the world because of cinema, even if inaccurate so. And there was a fascination with Egypt that made it the center of attention for a lot of film. There were tons of middle eastern dance clubs, though they were, again, kind of a fantasy version of it.

And then it got hairy.

Iranian Revolution in 1979 put a lot of restrictions on dance. If you were a dance teacher affected by this, your choices were either stop dancing or immigrate to a country where you'd be allowed to teach. So you see a huge boom in the 80s of Egyptian Cabaret styles taking root in the US because the interest in Egyptian culture made it easy to set up shop.

So most of what you're seeing today in modern stage styles is either second or third generation of Egyptian Cabaret style through several layers of translation, which in itself is deep in layers of translation, applied to the melting pot of America and then to the exposure of film, TV, music video, YouTube, Instagram, and then finally TikTok.

And that's fucking fascinating! The cultural exchange that had to happen for us to get that half-beat Turkish drop is high key cool af, just to think about all of the steps we had to go through to get here. It is an ever-evolving discipline of dance, and the fact that Shining Protector is still teaching the old ways of her people to keep traditions alive is AMAZING!

We should want this. And I don't know how to explain to people that sometimes the watered-down white people spicy version is the gateway drug to taking an active interest in a different culture.

When one culture comes in contact with another and the peoples share the things that enrich their lives, that is cultural exchange. But I think it's hard for some people to see any interaction with a white culture as neutral-positive. And it's somewhat difficult to explain the difference.

[deansbeer]

𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐒 SKIES & 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 TIES

001. ARE WE MORE THAN FRIENDS? ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ִ ݁ ♡ .

✸ 𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐋 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟔; four months after you and jensen met.

PAIRING. cowboy!jensen x female reader ꒱

SYNOPSIS. it's been four month since you and jensen met during that stormy december, and now he's around a lot more. between family dinners, stolen moments, and clearing the air about daisy, things between you and jensen are getting sweeter—and a whole lot more complicated.

WARNING(S). fluff | hand-holding | forehead kisses | flirting | romantic tension | developing feelings | playful family teasing | confrontation (toward daisy) | made-up rumors | sisters' tease reader but r supportive of the blossoming relationship | dads' subtle matchmaking attempts | extended family (jensen's family) | past insecurities | self-consciousness | mutual pining | animal interactions (baby foal) | country lifestyle | ranch work references | rural texas.

kari yaps. merry xmas eve! my lil gift to u for the holidays. teehee, i'm already so obsessed w these two, not even kidding. this one is a lil longer than the prologue (obviously) so ur in for a ride !!! i want cowboy!jensen n his charming fine self <3333 yeehaw! 🏇 edit. i don't like how it came out, so im sorry, if it's shitty compared to the prologue :((( + im not feeling as festive & have been crying since earlier over it. anyway, i would hate to ruin anyone else's holiday spirit, so lemme just stop there <3 with that said, i hope ur all enjoying christmas, my loves. and to those who don't celebrate, i hope ur having an amazing day <3

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ୨ৎ 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘.

APRIL in texas brought wildflowers and warm breezes, painting the ranch in vibrant colors that made everything feel new again. four exact months had passed since that stormy december day when jensen first walked into your life, and somehow everything was different while staying exactly the same.

"he's coming over again?" hannah teased from her perch on the kitchen counter, watching you fidget with your hair in the reflection of the microwave door. "that's the third time this week."

"his dad and our dad are friends," you muttered, though you couldn't hide the flush creeping up your neck. "they're working on something."

kimberly snorted from the kitchen table. "yeah, working on getting you two married off."

"shut up, kim!"

"girls," your mom warned, but her eyes were twinkling as she kneaded dough for her famous cinnamon rolls. "leave your sister alone. though i must say, alan has been mighty pleased with how well you two get along."

you groaned, dropping your head onto the counter. "can we please talk about literally anything else?"

the sound of tires on gravel saved you from further torment. through the window, you could see alan's truck pulling up, jensen climbing out of the passenger side door. your heart did that annoying little flip it always did when you saw him now, but at least you'd learned to hide it better.

"sweetheart," your mom called as you headed for the door, "why don't you show jensen those new foals while your dad and his dad talk business?"

"subtle, mom. real subtle."

but you were already out the door, the spring air warm on your skin as you jogged down the porch steps. jensen met you halfway, that easy smile of his making your stomach flutter.

"hey," he said softly, like he always did, like it was just for you.

"hey yourself." you nodded toward the stables. "want to see the new additions?"

he fell into step beside you, close enough that your arms brushed. "lead the way."

the past four months had smoothed out most of the awkwardness between you, replaced it with something comfortable but charged with possibility. you'd learned things about him—how he took his coffee (black, two sugars), his favorite time of day (dawn, when the ranch was just waking up), how his laugh changed depending on what made him smile.

"you know," he starts, as you reached the stables, "my aunt martha's been asking about you."

you laughed, remembering the energetic woman from last month's family barbecue. "is she still convinced i need her secret recipe for peach cobbler?"

"she says, and i quote, 'that girl needs to know how to make a proper cobbler if she's gonna be part of this family.'"

your steps faltered slightly, but jensen pretended not to notice. that was another thing you'd learned about him—he knew when to push and when to let things breathe.

"your family's really taken a shine to me, huh?" you said, trying to keep your voice light as you led him to the newest foal's stall.

"can you blame them?" he leaned against the stable door, watching as you checked on the baby horse. "you're pretty easy to like."

before you could respond, a sharp voice cut through the air. "jensen! i thought that was your truck i saw!"

the happy bubble around you and jensen burst at daisy's sharp voice. she stood at the stable entrance like she owned it, her blonde hair perfectly curled despite the texas heat, wearing a sundress that seemed impractical for a ranch visit. your stomach twisted—she looked exactly like the kind of girl who belonged next to jensen.

"daisy." jensen's voice was flat, nothing like the warm tone he'd been using with you moments ago. his shoulders tensed, and he shifted slightly, putting himself between you and her.

"i've been trying to catch you at your place," she said, her boots clicking against the stable floor as she walked closer. each step felt deliberate, calculated. "daddy keeps saying you're never around anymore." her eyes flicked to you, a quick dismissive glance that made your skin crawl. "now i see why."

"been busy," jensen said shortly. you could see the way his jaw clenched, the way it did when he was holding back words. he turned back to you, deliberately showing daisy his back. "speaking of, you were gonna show me those training techniques you mentioned?"

daisy's perfectly painted lips curved into a sneer. "i guess the rumors about you two are true, then? funny, i always thought you had better taste, jensen."

"excuse me?" the words left your mouth before you could stop them.

jensen's hand found yours, squeezing gently. "there aren't any rumors, daisy," he said, his voice stern in a way you'd never heard before. "and even if there were, it wouldn't be any of your business. never has been."

she flushed, anger flashing across her face. "i just thought—"

"you thought wrong," he cut her off. "there was never a 'we', daisy. you decided there was something between us without ever asking me what i wanted. you showed up at my ranch uninvited, tried to insert yourself into my family, and spread rumors when i made it clear that i wasn't interested."

her composure began to crack. "that's not—i never—"

"you told half the county we were dating," jensen continued, his voice steady but angry. "even went as far as making things uncomfortable for everyone, including your dad. and now you're here, on private property, trying to do it again?"

"jensen—"

"you're wrong, daisy," he said firmly. "now, if you'll excuse us, we've got work to do. i'm sure you can find your way out."

daisy's face contorted with anger and embarrassment. "this isn't over," she spat, but her voice wavered. "daddy won't be happy about how you're treating me."

"your daddy knows exactly how i feel," jensen replied calmly. "has for months. why do you think he stopped bringing you around?"

she opened her mouth, closed it, then spun on her heel and stormed off. you could hear her volkswagen beetle engine rev aggressively as she peeled out of the ranch.

silence fell in the stable, broken only by the soft nickering of horses. jensen's hand was still holding yours, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your skin.

"i'm sorry about that," he said finally, turning to face you. "i should've handled that situation better months ago."

"you don't have to apologize," you reassured him. "it's not your fault she..."

"got obsessed?" he supplied with a wry smile. "yeah, well. maybe if i'd been clearer from the start about where my interests lay, she wouldn't have gotten the wrong idea."

your heart skipped. "your interests?"

his free hand came up to cup your cheek, and suddenly you couldn't remember why you'd ever worried about daisy at all.

"listen," he moved closer, his eyes serious. "whatever you heard about me and daisy... it wasn't true. never was. she just... decided things were a certain way, and no matter how many times i told her different, she wouldn't listen."

"oh." you fiddled with the hem of your shirt. "i just thought... i mean, everyone said—"

"everyone says a lot of things," he stepped closer, his fingers catching your chin. "but the only girl i've been interested in since last december is standing right here, trying real hard not to look at me."

your eyes snapped to his, heat flooding your face. "jensen..."

"dinner's ready!" kimberly's voice rang out across the yard, making you both jump apart.

jensen laughed, shaking his head. "your sisters have terrible timing."

dinner at your house had become a regular thing, both families crowded around the large oak table your grandfather had built. your mom had outdone herself tonight—pot roast, fresh rolls, and three different kinds of pie.

"this is incredible, melanie," alan said to your mom, helping himself to seconds. "you've outdone yourself."

"oh, it's nothing special," your mom waved him off, but she was beaming. "though, i did try that new seasoning donna suggested."

jensen's mom smiled warmly. "i told you it would make all the difference."

you were seated between jensen and hannah, trying to ignore the knowing looks both your sisters kept shooting your way. jensen's knee pressed against yours under the table, a steady warmth that made it hard to focus on your food.

"remember when these two first met?" your dad chuckled, gesturing between you and jensen. "her in those pajamas of hers, looking like she'd seen a ghost."

"dad!" you groaned as everyone laughed.

"oh, i remember," alan grinned. "jensen came home that very next day talking about—"

"hey, dad," jensen cut in quickly, his ears reddening. "maybe we should talk about something else?"

hannah leaned over to whisper in your ear. "bet he told his daddy all about how pretty y'looked in those shorts."

you elbowed her sharply, but you couldn't help smiling.

after dinner, everyone migrated to the back porch. the texas sunset painted the sky in pinks and purples, the air cooling just enough to be comfortable. you found yourself sitting on the porch swing with jensen, your families' voices creating a comfortable backdrop of chatter.

"so," you said softly, "what exactly did you tell your dad that night?"

jensen groaned. "you're not gonna let that go, are ya?"

"nope."

he was quiet for a moment, then he spoke up, "i told him i'd met the prettiest girl i'd ever seen, even if she was wearing pajamas and looked like she wanted to murder me."

"i did not!"

"sweetheart, you looked at me like i was the devil himself."

"well, you were smirking at me!"

"because you were adorable," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "still are."

before you could respond, kimberly's voice floated over, "you two want some privacy?"

"kim!" you hissed, but jensen just laughed, his arm sliding along the back of the swing behind you.

"nah," he answered coolly. "just enjoying the view."

your mom then appeared in the doorway, holding a fresh pie. "who wants dessert?"

as everyone headed inside, jensen caught your hand. "hey."

"yeah?"

"just... i'm glad your dad made you help that day. even if you did try to hide from me for weeks after."

you ducked your head, embarrassed. "well, to be fair, i thought you were dating daisy."

"never," he said firmly. "not her, not anyone. been waiting for the right girl."

"is that so?"

his thumb brushed over your knuckles, just like it had that night. "yeah."

"jensen! honey, you want apple or cherry?" his mom called.

he squeezed your hand once before standing, pulling you up with him. "we should get in there before they send out a search party."

"or before my sisters start making more comments?"

"that too." he tugged you closer, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead that left you stunned. "come on, pretty girl. let's go face the firing squad."

later that night, after both families had gone home and your sisters had thoroughly exhausted their teasing, you lay in bed thinking about everything. your mom poked her head in, smiling knowingly.

"you have a good day?"

"mom..."

she sat on the edge of your bed, smoothing your hair back like she used to when you were a little girl. "you know, i remember when i first met your father. he had that same look in his eyes that jensen gets when he looks at you."

"mama," you whined, but you were smiling.

"i'm just saying," she stood, heading for the door. "some things are worth taking a chance on."

as you stared up at the ceiling of your bedroom, you thought about jensen's words, about waiting for the right girl. maybe, just maybe, your mom was right.

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 taglist. @deanswidow @a1ecmcdowell @beausling @titsout4jackles @frosttbitessam @aileenunfiltered @deansbite @jasvtsc @fallbhind @ostaramoon @lacydollette @ultravi0lence14 @rubyvhs @s4wdvator @depressionbarbie2023 @spcncershasting @severe-mental-illness @lmg14 @bluestrd @starkeysprincess ◟ ☆ ݁ ⋆ 🏇 ˚⊹ ˖ ﾟ✶ ݁. comment OR send an ask to be added / removed !!!!!

𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍 © 2024. ✶ please DO NOT copy or plagiarize my works.

[your-unfriendlyghost]

Stares at you and very politely requests for some transfem soda headcanons

Oh hell yeah I’d love to

(tw for mentions of period-typical transphobia)

Transfem Soda h/cs

-She keeps the name Sodapop.

-She worries sometimes that Mom and Dad would be disappointed in her, to which Pony or Darry will remind her that “Mom and Dad always said they wanted a girl, they’d be proud.”

-She loves to dress all feminine and whatever, but on a day to day basis she dresses more or less like she always has.

-Tulsa is big enough that outside of their neighborhood/school, most people don’t know her as she was before. So on dates, Steve likes to take her to the other side of town, away from all the people who know her as “Soda the boy”. She loves it, it’s so freeing to have folks see her as herself. 

-Speaking of Steve- he’d just finally accepted that he was gay when Soda started experimenting w/ gender stuff. (Turns out he wasn’t gay, he was bi and so in love with Soda that he couldn’t like anyone else, girl or guy.) But it definitely sends him spiraling into another crisis for a bit- he’s supposed to be gay, why’s the thought of Soda as a chick so hot?!

-Steve’s real supportive tho. Back when Soda was just calling it “crossdressing” he’d buy her things to experiment with- yk, like dresses, heels, makeup, etc. Part of that was selfish since Steve was sorta (very) into it, but it mainly stemmed from an earnest hope that Soda would feel more like herself

-That “crossdressing” phase lasted a few months, so when she eventually did come out to him as a girl, he wasn’t completely surprised. He’s who she came out to first, and it means a lot to him that she trusts him so much.

-Coming out to Darry and Pony tho is…harder. She knows they’ll always love her, but she feels like they’ll see her differently. 

-She tells Darry on accident. She’d just come home from work, feeling shitty because someone called her “such a nice young man”. She was tearing up about it, which made her feel worse, and then Darry showed up, home from work early. He got her to explain what happened, and the interaction went like this:

“Wait…so you don’t want folks to call you nice??”

“...I don’t want them to call me a man…”

Darry hugged her and said “Soda…you got somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

And it was all over from there. She just spilled.

-When Ponyboy gets home, he’s surprised, a little weirded out, but mostly glad Soda’s happy. Neither him or Darry really get it at first, but they know she’s happy so they’re happy. Over time though, they understand more and more, till they understand her as well as she understands herself.

-Coming out to the gang is straightforward enough. Two-Bit started to make an iffy comment as a joke, but Steve threatened him till he shut up. Two-Bit’s supportive though- the way he sees it, the world always needs more hot chicks. Johnny goes to her for advice about girls, which he knows makes her feel validated. And Dally pretty much immediately starts flirting with her, partially out of his instinctual need to harass women and partially because it riles Steve up and Dally likes riling Steve up. Two-Bit flirts with her too- she’s hot, blond, and it pisses Steve off, so yeah, win-win.

-Darry worries about her sometimes. He does the protective older brother bit only half-jokingly, and it sort of annoys Soda because Darry was never this worried about her before she came out. She also sort of likes it, because yk, it feels affirming. So she’s got mixed feelings about that.

-Darry threatens to kill Steve if he hurts her. And sure, Darry did that back when stevepop first got together too, but now it feels even more pointed. Steve is a little scared of Darry in a way that he wasn’t before.

-Ponyboy straight up gaslights Curly Shepard, Mark Jennings, and half the kids at school into thinking Soda was always a girl, just a tomboy. “Jesus, you thought I had two brothers? Hell no, I’ve always had a brother and a sister. Soda just looked like a boy as a kid ‘cos she had to wear Darry’s hand-me-downs you fuckin’ idiots.”

-After seeing Ponyboy’s success at that, Two-Bit, Johnny, Dally, and Steve try to do the same with the other hoods. Tim Shepard doesn’t fall for it, but when Dally begrudgingly explains the situation, Tim supports it too. Not because he particularly likes Soda or trans people as a whole- he actually thinks she’s kind of a freak tbh- but because she’s a Curtis. Darry’s his friend, and she’s Darry’s kid sister. Besides, it’s what he’d do if Angela was trans. (this ain’t a great pov to have obviously! But yk, I’m aiming for realism.)

-Steve is saving up money to get Soda HRT. He hasn’t told her, but everytime he gets five bucks from his dad, it goes to the secret estrogen fund. He tells Darry about it, and Darry starts adding a small portion to it monthly too.

-She looks even more like her mom now. Sometimes, Pony will wake up from a nightmare and in his sleepy haze, he’ll momentarily think she is Mrs. Curtis. He’s never told Soda this before and never will. It’d make her feel guilty, and he doesn’t want that,

-It feels lousy living in Tulsa sometimes, where folks often misgender her and bring her down. So when she and Steve get older, they move to a nearby city where everyone who meets her meets her as Sodapop- Steve’s girlfriend, the Curtis sister, a young woman who’s fantastic with cars and even better with horses.

[curseofhecate]

MERRY CHRISTMAS, I MISS YOU | LN4

an: This is based on Merry Christmas, I miss you by Alex Crichton. It can be read as part to to merry christmas, please don't call. Again, depressing but I can't help it. This is Lando's point of view.

w.c.: 1.3k

December 25th, Christmas.

The view from the cabin was captivating. Especially now that the sun had gone down and it was snowing again. Everything outside seemed so calm and peaceful, the complete opposite of the war that was currently going on in Lando’s mind. 

His plan hadn’t been to spend Christmas in a cabin somewhere in the french alps. It had actually been Max's idea, to make their annual ski trip overlap with Christmas this year. He knew his friend very well to know that if Lando was left alone this year on Christmas day he would have ended up wallowing in his sadness. 

The whole day had passed by in a blur. Presents, skiing, food, jokes, card games, it had all been a well revised plan to keep him distracted. And it had worked. Up until now.

It was late in the evening and everyone was off doing their own thing. Lando was sitting on a couch, half watching the snow fall outside through the floor to ceiling window and half watching the movie Pietra and Max, who were cuddling on the other couch. 

Love Actually. He remembered when his girlfriend had forced him to watch it with her around this time last year and how he had complained it was a dumb movie without actually having seen it. Well, ex girlfriend, because he had ruined that.

He hadn’t really meant to. It was something he either did subconsciously or it was out of his control. Usually, he likes to blame their falling out on the distance, on his job, on his career. And while all of those things had played their role in how things progressed between them, what had really destroyed what they had was their communication. Or better said, their lack of. And it killed Lando to admit that his inability to let someone see him for what he really is, had ruined the best thing he had ever gotten hold of.

It is weird how quickly things change.

Exactly a year ago, he could have sworn they’d be infinite. It was the day he had taken her to meet his parents. She was nervous and he had spent the whole car ride down to Bristol reassuring her that his family would love her. What she didn’t know was that they already did. Lando hadn’t stopped talking about her since the day they'd met. 

He had convinced her it wasn’t that big of a thing. Which was a lie because Lando never introduced his girlfriends to his parents. Mainly because most of them couldn’t even be considered girlfriends and fit more into the ‘casual hook ups’ or ‘friends with benefits’ categories.  

He remembered how he had spent most of his time watching her interact with his family and feeling proud about how well she fit in with them. That was the moment that solidified for Lando the feelings he had for her. And as he sat there and watched her interact with his niece we thought about how Christmas would be ten years from now, when they’d be married and have a family of their own. 

It was the moment that made it clear to Lando that this was the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The girl he was going to marry.

If he were honest, he always knew. From the moment he first saw her, at the back of that party on Christmas day two years ago with a drink in her hand and looking awkward, he knew that something was different about her. 

When he first walked up to her, Lando was nervous. Which was the most unlike Lando thing ever. Normally he was really open and comfortable around people, the definition of an extrovert. But for some reason this was different.

The first thing he told her was some lame joke about both of them being out of place since they knew no one and their friends ditched them, He didn’t get much of a response, except for a forced smile, and for a bit lando felt as if he was having a one sided conversation. But the longer he kept talking the more at ease she started to feel around him. 

The walls didn’t really come down until Lando made another joke about something stupid, what he couldn’t remember. What he remembered though was the way she had thrown her head back laughing. And from that moment, he was a goner. 

It was crazy to think how two years ago they didn’t even know each other and last year at this time she was curled up against him, head on his chest with his arms wrapped around her and watching cheesy Christmas movies. And now she is gone. He had lost her. 

Sometimes he wondered what he could have done differently. He knew it wasn’t entirely his fault and some things were out of their control but he couldn’t help but want to go back and change everything. 

What he had felt for her, he hadn’t felt for anyone else before, and he was convinced he wouldn’t feel for anyone else in the future. 

Usually he tried not to think about that. During the season it was easy. He was preoccupied with races and the possibility of winning the drivers championship. Being a formula 1 driver didn’t allow him much time to wallow in his self pity. 

But now, it is really difficult. Especially considering how he kept thinking about the Christmas they’d spent together last year. The look on her face when he’d told her it was too early to blast Christmas songs on November 1st, the domestic feeling it brought him decorating his London apartment together, the way she’d force him to do silly childish activities, like baking cookies and decorating gingerbread houses and how he’d complain even though he always ended up loving it.

Waking up with her in his arms on Christmas morning and pretending to be asleep as soon as she started stirring, just to make the moment last longer, knowing well that she wouldn’t have the heart to wake him up. It all haunted him.

But most of all, it was the what ifs that tormented him.What if she has moved on? What if she’s with someone new? What if he’s nothing but a ghost that lingers in her life?

But then what if she was lonely? What if she missed him as much as he missed her? What if she had realised how big of a mistake this had been? What if she wants to reach out but is afraid to? What if the reason she didn’t is because she thinks he has moved on. 

Lando thought about this far more often that he would like to admit. All he could think about lately was her. And even though he appreciated how his friends tried to distract him he couldn’t help but feel suffocated. 

He missed her. He missed her a lot. How could he not? He was in love with her, he still is. And so he can’t help but wonder whether she would answer if he called. 

He hoped she would. 

Sighing, he picked up his phone and tapped on her contact. He typed out a paragraph, explaining how much he missed her and how he wished he could have her back. His finger hovered over the send button but he hesitated and erased the message, turning off his phone frustrated.

He couldn’t go on like this. 

If she didn’t want to talk then she wouldn’t reply. But if still cared then maybe she would. And for once in his life Lando Norris had nothing to lose. 

He turned on his phone again and typed out another message, hitting the text button and turning off his phone before he could overthink it.

[zkylearnstherope]

Victim [An Analysis]

Part 1 - [Part 2]

Agent Oreo without his glasses.

The most beautiful deaths are the ones who fought until the end.

I swear to god, I went frame by frame just to make sure. 😭

If you know me or have interacted with me before, you would know how much I despise this guy.

Don't care if it was Chosen who fired or not. Watching bullying go down, knowing you had the ability to stop it, but "Choosing" not to... a coward through and through, a traitor and always will be.

Although, I can't help but notice, how much this looks similar to Chosen's portal.

The walk of shame. I bet he didn't want to go back. Of all the people, why only you? . . . But someone needs to tell the story.

The first time we see what the DJ's body look like.

Rocket Co. and Rocket Corp. are both canon names.

MEM_0013

The thirteenth memory is the most horrifying one.

7 years later. Is this the same Box or no? The way the door opened is different.

After all this years.

This looks to be the same wall as before. So this is NOT the Box.

The Production Efficiency Report during Mitsi's time was through the roof.

I am curious as to what the LIES said. I can only make out a few words in the article such as.

----- grippling(?) ---- -- revelation. Where did he go? In the _____ of a leadership _____ following the _____ disappearance of CEO Victim. Backlash (in the red circle) unwilling. debt through the tech industry Rocket Co.

If I read that right, there was a report of Rocket Co. going into debt following the stock crash.

We already know about the existence of rival companies trying to steal the UI Tools before. These are just competitors slandering the name of the company.

And what's more is that one of the workers even became a whistleblower.

The ones we call Mercs are "Soldiers".

The event was called The Disintegration, The Disappearance, and The Decimation by several articles.

Correction: It's Sky Tiles and Green Life Particles

A connection was finally made.

It was Noogai3 again all along.

[sasahuaa]

Can you add scaramouche to your omega character series? He'd be a disastrous omega that needs lots of healing but I'm sure his partner can provide

You're doing great! I love reading your fics and characterization

Scaramouche as an omega

I was really considering Scaramouche before to start with genshin! I was a bit scared to start with Scara because I could see that I would start yapping, and almost did, I had to cut so many things bc my initial idea was to write him in all stages of his life, also not sure if you meant the canon timeline or fatui!scaramouche, but I can do that in the future, for now this fic has some brief mentions of Kabukimono and the fatui. And thank you for the kind words, it means a lot!

gn!reader; cw: contains deep dives into his mindset so he has pessimistic thoughts in some parts (like him thinking that reader is a sort of player, bur nothing too heavy)

This poor omega is indeed disastrous, since the moment his creator abandoned him, Kabukimono was left with a lot of questions regarding his worth. He does not understand, truly, by venturing around he discovered that omegas were not treated with much respect, was that the reason why his mother abandoned him? Does she think an alpha would be more appropriate to be an archon? But he was a puppet, designed by her will, it didn't make sense why she would make him an omega to begin with if that was her reasoning, so what was wrong with him?

The little fledgling was happy during his stay in Tatarasuna, Niwa was a father figure that teached him many skills, and the village helped each other, he was pampered by everyone. What a pity that disaster caused by a doctor's interest befell such a kind community.

Scaramouche felt his dignity crumble more each year, month, day, second that passed. At every step that he was corrupted by the fatui's ideals and methods - his body torn apart from Dottore's experiments - the thoughts of self-doubt grew in his mind. He wasn't enough to be a god, discarded before he had the chance to try, his hands didn't purify the water nor cut through mountains, no one would sing his name in worship, but he also wasn't enough to be human, his skin is artificial, unflawed like porcelain, not even a mechanical heart occupy the emptiness of his hollow chest. Forever lost in between the limbo of where his existence belongs.

For a being so emotional, Scaramouche wonders when was the last time he felt anything besides rage, it doesn't matter too much for him, as he learned how to use his anger as a tool. His underlings - though only in the fatui, as the people of Sumeru never faced the omega's wrath (or better worded, don't remember) - whispered out of his earreach, murmurs wondering if the beautiful omega was capable of love.

And now, carrying the title of Wanderer and face to face with the reason that made the vacant part of him tremble, he finally found the answer.

Courting

Nahida's orders indirectly led him to you, to be a student of the Akademiya would eventually force him to interact with other scholars, you being from Vahumana or not didn't matter, as students from different darshans would often benefited from cooperating. And like many people he met nowadays, he was indifferent at first, which considering his past as The Balladeer, when everyone was an annoying fly in his way, is a considerable improvement.

But for many aspects of life, even as he accepted that this would be something that he never would reach, he was interested in humanity. What makes people human, their flaws, traits, mannerisms and personality, what makes them yield or fill them with confidence. His almost deification didn’t bring him the same satisfaction as he felt with Niwa and the rest of the Tatarasuna people, but watching the Sumeru's citizens may be close enough.

If it's something he can't be, then he will appease himself by observing.

As he looks at alphas, he thinks that this is another thing that he is flawed at. In his studies, Scaramouche determined that omegas supposedly went crazy over alphas, but he never felt it before, or maybe he never gave himself a chance to try. A long time before he learned the consequences of creating genuine connections, that humans tend to betray the same way gods do.

But… he learned that they never did abandon him, that maybe he can trust again.

And while you both worked on your project, these types of thoughts ushered to the top of his mind like never before. You were nice to him,and laughed it off when he was being purposely cunning. You were also attentive, meticulous in your work and doting on him, always bringing him tea or other types of bitter delicacies, and just shrugged when he said there was no need to feed him.

He liked to see your reactions, there were moments when your behaviour took a tired and upset turn, when you mumbled curses about the things that went wrong with your work. It was somewhat relieving and entertaining to witness, that the gentle façade crumbles when faced with challenges.

“It's always better to work with a full stomach” you said, not sparing a thought that he didn't need to eat.

“This is pointless” the omega grumbled, he took a step away from the food.

“So just eat for the satisfaction of it, the success rate of content workers is higher than stressed ones” you insisted, and Scaramouche hated that.

Why do you treat it like there was no trouble in taking care of him? Getting out of your way to please others is dumb, especially for the likes of him.

The omega knows that he is a pessimist, that people always have motives behind their actions, and even Nahida didn't escape his judgement as he does not believe she is merely being kind and benevolent. You are no different, and when he is alone with his thoughts after bidding you goodbye and retiring for the day, he must find your intentions.

As he looks himself in the mirror, Scaramouche looks carefully at his appearance, “alphas and betas are always kinder to pretty omegas, we all know that they only want one thing” it's what the older men from the bazar say. He raises his hands to cup his face, fingers touching smooth skin with no marks, doe indigo eyes look back at him with something akin to divinity, and as he glances lower, he does not think his body lacks in beauty.

That must be it, they clearly are being good to me only to get in my pants!

Scaramouche is not a saint, he knew that, but since he started to work on his path to atonement, he was completely honest about himself. The omega knows that not everyone is like that, people that mask themselves behind lies and generous mannerisms are the worst kind of evil, and to think that you would be capable of that-

Hurts.

There is an annoying pain in his chest and a prickle behind his eyes. He needed proof, he will uncover the worst in you, that's a promise he made to himself.

Scaramouche was snarky and insufferable the following days, refusing to cooperate at all. And though he won't admit it, it was hard for him to do that, your scent wavered with a hint of sadness everytime he was rough, and he felt a need within him clawing to be free, he had to fight himself against releasing a comforting scent to appease you.

But his instinct quieted down whenever he saw you acting honorably to other omegas, when you held the door open for a nobody, or when you generously lent a hand to someone feeling troubled. The rage he felt was immeasurable, he growled lowly and was almost convinced to attack whoever was taking your attention from him.

So he wasn't special at all, he wasn’t needed, he wasn't wanted, it's always like that.

It all came to a boiling point when he snapped at you, harsh words thrown at your directions about what he thought you were doing, messing with omegas hearts just to set them aside when you were done getting what you wanted, truly shameful. Nonetheless, he felt regretful when he saw your pained expression.

“What made you think that?” your voice was quiet, and Scaramouche would prefer if you looked pissed by his accusations, anything to reassure him that he was right “You could have told me you were uncomfortable, I would've stopped”

Uncomfortable? He isn't uncomfortable by your actions towards him, he is… pleased that you did not shy away from a broken thing like him. What he did not like was when you did things for others that he believes should be only for him, and the perceptions he created himself even when you never gave him a reason to.

During all this time Scaramouche was overwhelmed by feelings, and though he is used to feel too much, what he felt about you was completely foreign to him, not the familial care he felt for Niwa and the kid from ages ago, not the gratefulness he felt for Nahida and the traveler for giving him a chance to atone for his mistakes, and not the kinship when he met Durin.

“So are you saying that you were running away from it?” Nahida questioned, placing a flower crown above the omega's head, aranara's joyfully circling around both of them “It's fine to be scared, and if you talk to them about it I am sure they will understand”

“How are you sure that people won't disappoint you? Don't you believe it's easier if you cut the problem by the roof so you never have to discover it?”

“I decide to give an opportunity for everyone to prove themselves, and maybe you would be happily surprised by the results” the goddess cupped his face, pinching the fat of his cheeks and giggling when Scaramouche bat her hands away “You look different since you met them, even your scent doesn't hold that sour end from before”

And he followed Nahida's advice, not because she told him what to do, but staying away from you was killing him inside. This is not normal, is it? To think the world is falling apart just because your desired person is not close by.

Moreover, he guesses that since becoming a citizen of Sumeru he started to work on redeeming himself, what is one more person to apologize for when you acted out of line?

Scaramouche prepared a basket of fruits and Padisarah flowers and headed to your work station, exchanging these types of words is still unfamiliar to him, but he made it very clear that he wanted to improve your relationship.

It's possible that the state of your relationship was just confirmed when someone he was jealous of before questioned him.

“Of course we are courting, don't ask stupid questions”

Honestly, it's possible Scaramouche just came to terms with his feelings after he said that. The omega was still astonished that he is loved back, he doesn't know if he deserves this.

And yet, he can't deny himself the pleasure of being in your arms, taking deep breaths of your scent and resting his eyes with your rumbling under his head. If he is being selfish and taking a good alpha form a good omega, so be it! No one deserves you anyway, if another omega even thinks of taking you from him they will be met with sharp teeth and claws.

You both become inseparable, while it's mostly because he enjoys spending time with you as much as you - and he sees you as one of the few people that it's not a waste of time to be together -, it's also a result of a deeply buried insecurity of being betrayed, he knows that some were misunderstandings, but it's hard to change a mindset after hundreds of years believing in it.

He prefers the reassurance coming from actions instead of words, so when his alpha permit him to scent all of their clothes and also their body, or hold him tight and shows that he belongs by their side when he is feeling bothered by the presence of another, it's moments like this that he feels the most complete.

Scaramouche is truthful in a relationship and he expects you to do the same, if he feels that he needs something and you can provide he will ask, he may not be the romantic type, but everyday he makes it very clear how much he adores you.

He doesn't have a favorite gift to receive - unless you make a table full of sweets, he will complain non-stop if you do that. Spending time together is enough for him, but he appreciates anything you give him, gift him a small plushie and say you thought of him when you saw it, perhaps he will tease you and joke a little, but he will keep it safe. If you give Scaramouche jewelry or any small token, he will bring it with him anywhere he goes. His gifts to you include artifacts he finds when Nahida sends him on expeditions, also Scaramouche doesn't have hobbies for himself, so instead he will engage on yours.

Growling

During the fatui era, growls were very frequent sounds he made, it was almost impossible that someone that worked with him and never heard him growl. And he felt so powerful doing so, a long time ago, while he still lived in Inazuma, omega's were heavily punished if they growled at someone, and though this conservative behavior diminished a lot compared to the past, it was far from being extinguished.

So with his title as a harbinger, Scaramouche growled until they all cowered by his feet, just like a god should be revered.

But since living in Sumeru, he doesn't growl as much anymore, this is because he is not as stressed as before, he lifted the weight off his shoulders that was having to act like something he would never become, he was not trying to sacrifice his body for his objectives anymore. There's the occasional growl when other people irritate him, as a warning to watch their words and actions.

In a relationship with you, Scaramouche also growls when he is feeling jealous or insecure, but overall, he does not growl at you unless he is in a deep mindset that something feels wrong, he will require reassurance in times like this.

Purring

Scaramouche doesn't remember the last time he purred, and now he is almost sure his purr box is broken. The omega has two reasons to think that, one is that it has been centuries, he does not know how to purr due to the disuse of that part of his vocal cords, another is because of the experiments Dottore made on him, turning his body almost inside out.

Nowadays he does not care whether he purrs or not, it's a thing he lived almost his entire life without, and he does not miss it.

If he somehow discovers that he can purr again, it would be an almost inaudible sound. If you want to hear it, you would need to rest your head over his chest, it's more vibrational than vocal. Scaramouche will not purr in public, for him, it's a thing that just both of you should be aware of.

Nesting

Scaramouche does not have a proper nest, actually, what he calls his nest is merely two pillows and one blanket that he carries around his home. at max he will try to put the blanket in a circular shape.

He took a while before introducing you to his nest. He was a bit insecure at first, other omega's have big and filled nests, with an enormous assortment of colors and textures, while his… during the fatui, he would say it was just another thing that proved something was wrong with him.

And he enjoys it so much when you are with him in his nest, you could be just relaxing around the house, and he would bring his blanket and wrap it around you wordlessly. It made him feel warm with adoration whenever he saw you inside something purely his.

He won't get out of his way to buy or make things for his nest, but he will increment it if it is a gift from his alpha. He thinks it is kind of lovable that his alpha would try to get things to make him more comfortable, and Scaramouche deeply appreciates that.

Marking

He marks you all the time, even before you started to officially court. His scent is now almost ingrained into your skin, and if he already had permission to give you a biting mark, he would.

It's not just a sign for other omegas that you are already committed to him, it's also a reminder for you, that you have an omega to come back to, and that he would do anything to keep you with him.

But even after he becomes confident that you won't leave him behind - no omega or yourself is going to separate you from him - he still covers you in his smell, Scaramouche became very fond of the whole process of scent marking and to claim you for himself.

It's therapeutic to him, he will nuzzle quietly your cheeks and bring the scent glands of his wrists to your neck, not a single gland of your go untouched. For him, it's a mandatory procedure that you must go through before leaving home, especially if your agendas oblige you to not be together for the rest of the day.

Subspace

He never entered subspace before you, and it also took a while for you to achieve that. He denied himself the mindset many times before, he felt kinda scared by it, to be so vulnerable. Anytime he felt that his mind was starting to feel like it was becoming cotton filled, Scaramouche immediately backed away from you and tried to distract himself.

When he does enter subspace, he is whiny and clingy, following you around your home and hugging you when you are busy, from behind if you are cooking, sitting on your lap and throwing his arms around your neck while you work.

Scaramouche feels like he took a shot of serotonin when he smells your skin, he is addicted, touching every exposed part of your body to his contentment. He also likes to bite, so you probably will be covered by marks of nibbles by the end of it.

And when he sobers up again he gets flustered easily, he can't believe he let instincts control over his body. He will hiss if you mention anything that he did during subspace. Nonetheless, he will eventually get into it again and the cycle will repeat itself.

☽ ☼ ☾

Scaramouche supposes things should turn out like they were before, that everything would come back to normal, he followed Nahida's advice, the instinct in his gut that begs to be with you, and yet, it seems worse than before. The omega may have had a strong reaction before and jumped into conclusions far from the truth, but he has also gotten used to silently pine for you, not expecting anything from it - maybe he can be and was aggressive towards other people that had your attention, but he won't mention it! -, for he can count the number of times in his long life that situations turned into his favor.

But Scaramouche reminded himself that he has to learn that your entire existence is too good to be true. You give him hope in many ways that he never imagined before. Your arms are stretched before him, holding a light blue and soft blanket.

“And for what reason would you give me that?” he stepped forward, picking the material from your hands.

“Can't you guess?” you chuckled and shook your head, the movement dispersed your scent that was reeking of amusement “If anything, see it as a gift to compensate the time we spend apart, to show how much I cherish you”

His eyes widen at the proclamation, under his nose he can smell that the blanket is scented. An item for a nest and carrying your smell, isn't that a sign of a courting gift? He couldn't help but hug the blanket tighter at the thought.

“Thank you for trying to look out for me”

For a long time he desired for a normal life, all his objectives from the past had the intention to lead to it, sadly all was for nothing, and he hopes he didn't look pitiful for that. And yet, in front of him, he saw an opportunity for that, he just needed to reach for you.

Once again, he gives himself the chance to dream of a better future.

[mosneakers]

My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024🎉

Thank you to the absolute legend @kari-sims for tagging me, your whole post was a magical treat ♥

-> tagging @ravingsockmonkey @lilamausmaus @beebeesiims @bananzerssims @echoweaver @simgnomeful @cinamun @salemssimblr @nova-kim @myopiccc @surely-sims @pixelsinmyveins @pixelshary and anyone else seeing this, don't let the the confines of tags stop you from joining in on the fun ^.^

obvs no pressure to participate, just for fun <33

January

From this chapter from Many Moons Ago- Erik and Agnes Darling 🥺

February

Oh god, it has to be this one. You know the one. My heart sinks seeing it. 😭

March

I really love all the shots from this post— Erwin's close call. I'm very proud of how they turned out, despite how his fate turned out 😥

April

This is when we were introduced to Mackenzie and his very short and very... brutal arc, but it was fun while it lasted. I also loved building a vampiric office lol

May-July

VOID August

Ahhh, the Salient Recollection documentary. By this point I had finally gotten access to a working computer and my creative juices could no longer be contained. It was time for the season 10 finale, and we were going out with a baaaang 😫 This post introduces two new characters interviewing Tycho as he reveals his alien identity in the documentary. September

Hopefully this isn't too much of a spoiler right? Lol hoping everyone is all caught up at this point 😄 But seriously this entire scene was so much work. Working with Coraleye's dress and hair alone, plus trying to capture movement during action shots like this? took hours to edit— plus multiple different versions of the same shot all merged together to get what we see here. It was really important that I captured the fear and desperation and also drama! of the moment though

Also another favorite of mine personally, is this one from this post! By this point I had made probably a million individual glove/suit wrinkles, tears, and hair strands in these edits alone and I think this edit reflects that lol— I also love the lighting and the eeriness of the glow from the TV static behind them, and the desperation and frustration they're both feeling, definitely one of my favorites probably of the year.

October

Oh geez lol October is always a big year for me creatively, so expect a bit more than just one :p

This whole post was so hearbreaking to make for me. Coraleye and Tycho (while incredibly toxic and problematic at times) were my favorite couple I've ever written, and breaking them up was so incredibly painful 😢 I loved how all these shots came out and I'm super proud of them. Take note of how Tatiana's winning the election was foreshadowed in that last shot 👀

Somewhat separately (although stay tuned for season 11, js 👀) from the main story, there's no denying this gifset was undoubtedly my most popular post. I've been in a liminal spaces kick for months now and needed to bring that to my safe space, and let's be honest, the most liminal space of all- the sims!

November

In the finale of season 10, the very last post- Coraleye recounts her mental breakdown. The flashback of cutting her hair at her bathroom sink, tear stained cheeks, bloodshot eyes, and then lying on the ground mourning her friend in front of the house the whole group used to room together at in Britechester—I felt—was pretty powerful. Then the juxtaposition of her months later, seemingly bounced back to her regular flirtatious self while interacting this filmmaker, clearly having him wrapped around her finger, I found quite eerie but also just compelling. Another very proud moment for me. I genuinely just love writing and exploring this character.

December

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ A render I made to show off some cc- but for those who get it, get it.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 12/24/2024

pair of portentous tuesdayposts: this one is christmas eve and the next one is new year's eve

trying something new with the reading section, where i list off a bunch of books i bounced off and briefly explain why. let me know if this is interesting, or if it's more interesting when i finish a book i sort of enjoyed and really dissect what didn't work for me like with that annoying evil wizard book a couple weeks ago.

listening

the true champ of the past few weeks has been friends at the table's (an actual play podcast about critical worldbuilding, smart characterization, and fun interaction between good friends) horror/weird west season Sangfielle, and i know i have listened to about sixty hours of it bc i have played about sixty hours of stardew valley. i am currently on ep 49, one before the last finale episode, and it feels like it is wrapping up in a very rushed and weird way? maybe i will feel differently after listening to the six coda episodes wrapping up everyones' characters?

the song of the week is fleet foxes’ white winter hymnal, which is morbidly festive without being strictly christmas-y and is not salting the open emotional wound within my chest that is The Holiday Season. album released 2008. christ im old

-

reading

the concept of this gag award is EXTREMELY funny to me. i wish the EFF sent them a little physical trophy. perhaps a challenge coin.

bounced off a lot of stuff. the six larger books and the far top right are all from my absolute favorite thrift store with the worst vibes, who regularly has a 8/$1 media sale bc they actually want to be more of a kitchen goods and home decor thrift store and don't really want to constantly be overflowing with records no one buys. yet here they are.

i really do need to find a good indie used bookstore around here that will take books and give me back slightly more in store credit than in cash. bc i would like to fill some missing chunks of trilogies/fill out the star wars shelves a little more. but every time i have gone to half price books i have had an unpleasant time.

lumberjanes/bravest warrior/adventure time were not making me feel nostalgic and in fact made me quite sad instead (more in a memento mori way than in subject matter) so they're going to a friend's kid

glad i looked up Heartthrob (despite the really good premise of woman haunted by her heart donor) on my library's comic app bc the third one seems to mostly take place in a mental hospital which is really never a vibe i want

GRIFTER has art i don't love and a bland storyline about an ex-marine who is the saddest boy in the world and can also detect literal space aliens living among us. no thank you

tangle's game has a close-call near-sexual assault in the first chapter. no thank you! cool dystopic social credit score premise but no thanks!

gil's all fright diner is about the king of vampires and the duke of werewolves but they're hicks. the narrator hates that they're dumb hicks. did not jive with the authorial voice on this one

i bought Two Tickets to Tangiers in high school bc it looked cool and have only cracked it open now, almost fifteen years later. fifteen year old kay did not yet have the context clues from the cover that it would be a very racist travelogue

i need to stop trying agatha christie. i am never going to like agatha christie

-

watching

somehow i have seen the first tinker bell fairies movie three times this week bc that's all my bestie's toddlers want to watch. a really stupidly stacked cast??? how did all these people have free time in 2008???

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playing

finished the community center in summer 2 of stardew valley (wildly popular and very intense farming sim) and would have finished it in winter 1 if not for the FUCKING pufferfish. i hate fishing minigames and i especially hate the fishing minigame in stardew so i am excited to leave it the fuck alone for a while.

my cauliflower got stupid mchugelarge?? i do not know why they did that. also a meteor fell on my farm and gave me a bunch of really valuable ore, just like real life meteors.

i do kind of regret picking the beach farm bc so much of my day is spent watering, but i am trying to lean harder into animal products and being more of a fun silly flower farm instead of the intense agriculture i find myself doing. i have the greenhouse, i have a small patch of sprinklerable land, i will simply make sure to buy some of every seed each season and if i really need something i will toss it in the greenhouse.

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making

people are being very gracious about their mediocre colored pencil portraits. most of my gift budget this year was two flat rate boxes to my siblings. silly little pet portraits are very cost effective if you already have art supplies, nice paper, gumption, and very cheap small frames.

[flaggermuser]

The First Christmas

1,238 words || Fluff, Christmas, GN Reader, Doctor Reader, Parent & Child Relationship, Parent & Child Attachment, Not Beta Read, Tawny is used to mean parent as reader is GN ||

I originally planned to do three Christmas fics but didn't get the time.

Previous Tawny fics: When You Loved Me, Home Is Where His Heart Is, They Took My Sunshine Away & Take Me Out To The Ball Game

This is also unbeta'd so we are dying like kings

It has been a long time since you celebrated Christmas.

Sure, you’ve been to friendly gatherings, invited in by neighbours to celebrate, even bringing homemade pies but it never felt as good as a family Christmas. Your parents had died years ago and you didn’t have any other family, so often you spent the day alone with a prepackaged dinner, watching the various Christmas specials; you always record the Vought ones.

But this year's Christmas is different.

You've had a busy morning, waking up early to start the preparations for lunch and you've pulled out all the stops to make sure that it's perfect.

There's turkey with all the trimmings, roast beef, a rack of lamb and smoked salmon. Then there's a range of desserts accompanied by home baked gingerbread people and a gingerbread house, as well as cookies in Christmas shapes topped with icing.

Your dining room table and your kitchen counters are overflowing with food, enough to feed around ten people instead of you and the two very special guests joining you. It seems extravagant but then again, they're used to the much finer things in life. You hope you've done enough, that they'll enjoy spending Christmas with you.

There's not just an abundance of food either, you've gone all out decorating your home. A real fir tree sits in one corner of your modestly sized living room, decorated with lights, baubles and tinsel, with a pleura of gifts underneath. You've spent a great deal of money on those presents and you pray that they'll like them.

If only you knew that your existence was more than enough, that you were the greatest gift he'd ever received in his whole life.

The doorbell goes and slight panic sets in, so you do a last minute check on the way to the door, taking off your apron and hanging it on the back of the kitchen door. You make a brief stop at the hallway mirror, straightening out your clothes so you look presentable before opening the door with a smile.

Ryan isn't really sure what to make of you.

Naturally he knows about the lab, Dad had been sure to tell him all about it. And despite his repetitive reassurances, Ryan is still reluctant to meet you.

After all, you were part of that team once, the one that tortured Dad in the lab, that turned a blind eye to him when he screamed and cried, begging for some form of human interaction.

“They’re not like the others,” Dad says. “Just trust me champ.”

Ryan nervously stands a few feet from the front door, breathing hard, doing his best not to panic but it’s getting difficult. He’s not prepared to meet the human-shaped monster on the other side. He sees the door open but from where he's standing, you're obscured so he only hears your voice

"Merry Christmas John."

Your voice is soothing and he watches as Dad falls into your arms, your hold on him tight. You're showing a great deal of affection towards Dad, something that Ryan knows Dad hasn't received from anyone else. When the hug ends, Dad looks back at Ryan and motions for him to come over.

Ryan slowly approaches, getting more anxious the closer he comes to the door. By the time he reaches you, he's not sure how to react. Who he had expected is the complete opposite of who he sees.

Instead of a monster, it's just you.

"Merry Christmas Tawny," Dad says before looking at Ryan. "This is Ryan."

“Hello Ryan,” your smile is humane, your hand stretched out to greet him.

Your handshake is warm, your grip isn’t tight, it’s almost as if you’re treating him like he’s made of glass or a delicate item that needs to be handled with care.

"Come on, let's get you inside."

Ryan’s eyes are glued to the festively decorated mantelpiece.

Pictures of Dad through the years, all in those fancy frames, accompanied with newspaper clippings. Then the one in the middle, the one of Dad when he was young, sitting on your lap with a smile on his face.

He can see why Dad is so attached to you - you were… you are nice to him.

You love him.

“A glass of milk for John, a glass of lemonade for Ryan and a plate of cookies to share."

Before you can return to the kitchen to continue cooking what smells like a feast, Dad takes your hand and squeezes gently, prompting a parental smile.

Now Ryan is far less intimidated than he was when he first arrived, reassured by the way Dad reacts to you and your affection practically beaming, how happy Dad is for you to call him by his actual name instead of his title.

Half an hour later, you return to the living room to announce that lunch is ready so him and Dad follow you into the dinning room, Ryan's eyes widening at the way the table is arranged and decorated. There's so much food, that Ryan isn't sure how the three of you are going to finish it all.

But it's clear that it's all made with love.

Ryan doesn't remember the last time he was so full, or the last time he had a proper home cooked meal.

There's still some food left over that you started to plate up as leftovers, and he can hear you telling Dad to take quite a lot with him. When you both emerge from the kitchen, Ryan is drawn to the bags that Dad holds, clearly overfilled but Dad doesn't seem to want to argue.

Dad is more than willing to do what he's told by you, his parent.

His Tawny.

Ryan spends the rest of the afternoon with you and Dad, watching the Christmas specials. He feels at peace, enjoying the familiar domestic simplicity that he can never experience at the Tower. It reminds him of Christmases at home with his mom.

Right down to the iced festive cookies on the plate on the coffee table.

There has been an abundance of gifts for Ryan all day and you've added to the pile, yet there seems to be more for Dad. These gifts are thoughtful, not just things that Dad probably won't use or doesn't want. You gone to a great deal of effort to make sure that you give Dad the best Christmas possible.

And that makes Ryan happier.

Eventually, it comes time for you to have your gift.

"Sorry about the wrapping," Dad says, handing it over. "I've never been very good but I wanted to do it myself."

Ryan watches you open the present with care, not just ripping the paper off as many usually do. The atmosphere changes and Ryan sits up straighter, filled with concern at your reaction.

You stare at the photo frame in your hands, shedding tears of what he hopes is happiness. Getting up from your seat, you head over to the mantle, moving some of the other frames out of the way to place this one down pride of place next to the one of you and Dad from the lab.

"We need to take just one more, just the two of us. It's important."

It's a photo of Dad and Ryan, immortalised in an ornate frame.

A picture of your son and grandson, the only family that you have.

And one that deeply loves you.

[porcelainseashore]

A Party of Two

First snow / Fake relationship / Ugly sweater || Leon Secret Santa || Gift for @sillydicejelly as part of the @leonsecretsanta event

Summary: It’s not every day that you bump into the one and only Agent Kennedy alone at the office. And it’s certainly not every day that you invite a stranger to your family’s Christmas party. The question is, can you convince Leon to celebrate his most hated holiday with you?

Time flies. Before you knew it, nearly another year had gone by, along with its series of missions done and dusted. It was a week before Christmas, and a particularly unassuming mid-December morning when you stepped into the office elevator, engrossed with your phone and the multitude of messages coming in from your family group chat. The screen lit up with a loud ping each time a new one was sent.

“Aunt Gretchen won’t be able to make it this time.”

“Damn, that’s a shame /s”

“Language!”

“Yes, mooooommmm…”

“Anyway, don’t forget the dessert!”

“And the dress code!”

“Hey! Could you hold the doors for a sec—” A deep baritone voice rang out in the distance, interrupting your reverie.

Oops. You shook your head from your thoughts, glancing up at an all-too-familiar face and a pair of cerulean blue eyes piercing through dirty blonde curtain bangs. He made a run for it as you slammed your hand against the closing elevator.

“Agent Kennedy,” you greeted politely with a simple nod.

“Uh-uh,” he wagged his finger cheekily, somehow managing to slide through the doors gracefully without breaking out into a sweat. “It’s just Leon.”

“Leon,” you acknowledged. 

It was refreshing how he didn’t have a stick up his ass like the rest of the goons who worked in the DSO, regardless if he was the golden boy or not. However, since you were in different departments, you hardly interacted with each other outside of the required formalities. It didn’t help as well that you considered yourself more of a wallflower than anything. Surely he wouldn’t—

As if right on cue, he uttered your name, followed by, “Angela’s PA, right?”

“How did you—” “You think I wouldn’t know who the amazing PA of the head honcho is?” he rebutted, his lips curling up in a smile as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

You were at a loss for words. “Um,” was about all you could manage.

“Come on, don’t die on me now,” he laughed, shrugging as he continued, “I’m just good with names, faces, you know, all that jazz.” He fanned his hands to illustrate his point before pausing abruptly and dropping them down to his sides, as if he had remembered that he was in a security division, not a children’s playground.

Clearing his throat sheepishly, he turned to the control panel. “Second top floor, right?” Without waiting for you to answer, he punched the button and the lift started to move.

The silence in the space was awkward and deafening, so much so that you felt an innate desire to make small talk to pass the time.

“So, you doing anything for Christmas?”

For a split second, you spotted a wince in Leon’s expression before he masked it, and you instantly regretted the words you had blurted out.

“N-nah, not really,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze as he forced out a cordial smile. “Not my thing.”

Pursing your lips, you recalled the way your colleagues often heaped praises and compliments onto the man before you, only to gossip about his personal life in hushed whispers behind his back. That was the double-edged sword of being something akin to a celebrity hero in the office. It usually went along the lines of:

“Poor Leon, that guy’s a loner. No partner, no kids, no family.”

“No wonder he’s a workaholic!”

“I heard he’s pretty good friends with the bottle, if you know what I mean.”

“With the kinda shit they put him through? I’d be damaged goods myself.”

You had heard it all. And though you were never consulted for your opinion of him, you found their talk a little mean-spirited.

Without thinking, you stated, “We’re having a small celebration at my parents’ house. It’s only about an hour and a half’s drive away. You’re welcome to join if you want?”

Your hand flew to your mouth, shocked that you had actually uttered the first thing that came to your mind. Leon just stared at you, seemingly having trouble finding the right words to say.

Scrambling to come up with an excuse or to backtrack, or both, you sputtered, “Well, uh, you see, we have this thing where, uh, it’s not great to spend the holidays alone. You know? So, well, sorry, forget what—”

At this, Leon chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he reassured you. “Thanks, really, it’s nice of you to offer, but I’ll be alright.” On my own.

You had no idea what possessed you to do what you did next, but you whipped out a sticky note from your bag and scribbled down your number with a ballpoint pen.

“Here,” you thrust it into his hands. He looked just as surprised as you. “Just… think about it, okay?”

Ding.

The doors opened and you hastily made your exit, mentally cussing at yourself for being so bold and assuming toward an almost-stranger.

“What’s the dress code?” you heard his voice call out from behind you.

Spinning around, you caught a glimpse of his lopsided grin as you smiled back. “Ugly Christmas sweater, of course.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

“No promises.”

That was the last text you received from him on the day of the Christmas Eve party. Leon appeared to have cold feet, which didn’t take you by surprise, seeing as he had been hesitant to begin with.

You sighed.

Perhaps it would take him a couple more years to come round to it. What on earth were you thinking anyway, inviting him to a family-do like that? Not to mention, you had already written in the group chat about bringing a plus one. Jumping the gun much? Well, at least you still had an afternoon’s worth of errands to run and distract yourself with. You could worry about the explanation later.

Soon, the gifts were wrapped up and ready to go, and the spiced ginger Yule log you had baked sat pretty on the counter. After loading all of the goodies into the backseat of your car, you started the engine and embarked on the long drive to your parents’ house.

In the meantime, Leon had been lounging on his living room couch, complete with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand as he swirled the melting ice in it lazily. Such a let-down, he thought. You didn’t deserve that, and as a matter-of-fact, you didn’t deserve any of this. He peered at the liquor bottle he had just cracked open, mocking him as he gulped down the remnants of the liquid from his chilled glass.

Smacking it onto the table, he was about to pour himself another shot when his phone buzzed. He saw your name flash up on his screen. Normally, he wouldn’t bother to check or answer it during his drinking sessions, but this time, curiosity got the better of him. It was a message with an attachment. Hmm, interesting.

Upon opening it, he saw a selfie of you posing in your horrendous-looking sweater and a mouth-watering dessert behind you. You were holding a present in one hand and making a funny face. The message read, “Come to the dark side, we have cake…”

He burst out laughing—he had to admit, it was rather cute of you to try, especially when no one else had before. Fiddling with the device in his hand, he hesitated, wondering if he should spend another night drowning himself in alcohol at home, alone, or whether he should take a chance on you and celebrate the holiday he hated the most with a bunch of strangers.

“Ahh, what the hell,” he mumbled before pocketing his phone and coming to his decision.

━━━━━━━━━━━

It was half past seven in the evening when you reached your parents’ house. Most of the guests had arrived by then and the celebrations were underway. The hallway was bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights and a large fir tree stood by the corner, decked out in festive garlands and ornaments as presents were tucked beneath its coniferous branches. The delicious smell of stuffed turkey, rib roast, baked ham, mince pies, and eggnog wafted through the air. Your family had prepared a feast and you were surrounded by your close ones. All was in its rightful place, but there was just one thing missing—Leon.

“So… I’m looking forward to seeing this plus one you’ve been talking about,” your mom nudged you as she sauntered over with a plate full of food.

Sensing your unease, your older sister came to the rescue, which you were ever thankful for. “Mom, stop, give it a break already.”

“I’m just curious! It’d be nice to meet this mystery person, hmm?”

You shifted between your feet uncomfortably. At this rate, you were pretty sure that Leon had bailed on tonight’s plans, so you might as well come clean about it. “Well, um, he—”

Before you could finish your sentence, the doorbell rang. Wait, could that be him? Your heart leaped in its cage.

“I’ll get it!” your younger brother yelled as he ran toward the door and you chased after him.

Yanking it open, both of you were greeted by the devil himself. The corners of his eyes crinkled, deep blue set against his pale skin, flushed from the cold.

“Sorry for being late,” he said, extending his arms toward you as you froze up in astonishment. Your younger brother stealthily gave you a push forward and you stumbled—quite literally—into Leon’s awaiting arms.

“Oof, hey!” he laughed. “Nice to see you too.”

“Sorry,” you stammered while you held onto him to find your footing. 

Once you had regained your balance, the scratchy material of his outfit caused you to have a proper look. From the porch lights, you could just about make out the knitted design. There was a figure of who you assumed was meant to be Jesus, sitting on a reindeer and riding it into an explosion of stars with an assortment of ill-matching Christmas trees in the background.

Noticing the perturbed expression on your face, Leon asked with a tinge of anxiety in his voice, “Ugly sweater, right?”

That was when you started giggling, realizing that his sweater definitely outclassed yours in whatever imaginary competition you had in mind. “God, that’s terrible! Okay, you win.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the prize?” he smirked.

At this point, your parents had come to the door to see what the commotion was about. Upon seeing Leon standing outside in the cold, they ushered him in quickly, asking him to make himself at home. 

As Leon settled in and went through the customary round of introductions, the topic that you had been dreading came up—naturally, from your nosey mom of course. “How well do you two know each other?” she pried. “Are you two…”

Leon glanced between you and your mom as she trailed off purposefully, and while you nearly choked on your saliva, he didn’t seem fazed at all. Instead, he responded with a disarming smile, “Yes, we are.”

Your mom emitted a contented hum, turning to your dad with a knowing look, and your eyes shot up to meet his in panic. However, he placed a hand on your shoulder comfortingly, mouthing the words, “Relax, I got this,” as he gave you a brazen wink. 

You had no idea what sort of game he was playing or where he was going with this, but he had a way about him that made you want to place your trust in him. And so, you eased up, allowing him to take the lead in the conversation while showing him to the dining table. Your dad served him a plate and Leon poured out the wine he had brought as a gesture of appreciation. 

Dinner went on without a hitch, filled with warm-hearted chatter and a never ending supply of food and beverages, in which all of you ate and drank until you were stuffed. Although your family could use a lesson in minding their own business, they were relatively easy-going and laid-back, so much so that Leon appeared to be enjoying the company. He seemed brighter and lighter than when you usually saw him in the office, away from all the scrutiny and judgment that could be found there. It was as if he was getting energized by the banter and a social environment which expected nothing from him, but to just be himself.

Your parents took to him and so did your siblings, being none the wiser to the fact that you and Leon were still practically strangers. Well, strangers was too harsh a word. It was more like: not quite friends yet not quite strangers. Occasionally, you would sneak a peek at each other from across the room, sharing shy smiles and furtive glances.

You were pleasantly surprised by how smooth Leon could be when he wanted to, considering that your earlier exchanges with the man had been stilted at best. It was never like how it was in the movies, where couples would hit it off instantly at ditzy meet cutes. Hold on a minute—couple? You mentally berated yourself for thinking about you and Leon on romantic terms. It must be the holiday season making people feel lonely, you figured. How many times had you received drunken, emotionally-wrought texts from exes, only to have them fumble with excuses for sending it out the next day? Anyway, this was nothing. What you had with Leon would only last for tonight, like a trick of the light. You went back to rearranging the gifts under the tree for the umpteenth time.

It was getting late. As your family had a tradition of only opening their presents on Christmas Day itself, they wanted to head to bed soon.

“Leon, you’re very welcome to take the bed in the guest room if you like,” your father offered.

“It’s a long drive back after all,” your mother hinted with a wily grin on her face. Your sister sighed and rolled her eyes while your brother suppressed an obvious laugh.

You saw a slight blush creep up Leon’s neck, but he relented. “Well, if you insist. I can’t thank you enough for all your hospitality.”

Your parents waved off his comment as everyone helped to clear up the dishes. When the remaining chores were finished, you brought Leon to his room, giving him a fresh set of towels, toiletries, and spare clothes from your dad as the rest went to sleep.

“You didn’t have to lie about us, you know?” you mentioned, touching his arm gently. “I mean, I appreciate it.”

“I know.” He brushed his thumb against the back of your hand, causing it to tingle. “It’ll be our little secret.”

You scoffed at his quip, shaking your head in mock disbelief before pulling away. “Well, I’ll get ready for bed. Let me know if you need anything, alright?”

“Mm-hmm.”

After you cleaned up and changed into your pajamas, you went outside to sit on the old wooden swing by the porch. It was draped with fluffy cushions and a thick fleece blanket, which you snuggled under to get comfy. This was your favorite time of the night, when the world was quiet and through the darkness you could spot faint glimmers of light from the street. The air was frosty and you could see your breath condense into puffs of mist.

“Is this a party of one?”

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even heard the front door creak open. Leon was standing beside the swing, motioning to the empty spot beside you. “Mind if I join you?”

Scooting over to give him some room, you jested, “Sure, as long as you don’t steal the whole blanket.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smirked as he sat down, wrapping his body with the covers.

You trembled as the chilled air hit your skin and he raised an eyebrow. “Cold?”

“No—” But your body betrayed you as you shivered uncontrollably again.

“C’mere,” he muttered, shifting his position as he opened his arms so that you could scuttle in between them.

You gulped nervously but gave in, moving closer as you leaned your head against his chest, catching a whiff of his musky cologne. In response, he snaked an arm around your shoulders in the form of a semi-embrace. His chin rested on the top of your head, and the warmth radiated from his body to yours and back again as you heard his heart beating—maybe a little faster? If someone had told you that you would end the night cuddling with Agent Leon Scott Kennedy, you would have said they were out of their mind, but yet here you were.

“Your Yule log was delicious,” his voice cut through the tense silence and you could hear it reverberating through his chest.

“I knew it’d sway you over to the dark side,” you teased. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t miss out on that?”

His fingers stroked through your hair absentmindedly. “I’m glad I didn’t miss out on all of this.”

You peered up at him inquisitively as he continued, “I haven’t… done something like this in a long time. I kinda forgot how nice it can be…”

Reaching out, you took his hand in yours and squeezed it. “I’m happy that you’re here.”

“I’m happy that you’re here too.”

It came out as a barely-heard whisper, but before he could speak any further, a crystallized snowflake fell onto your cheek. You thought it might have been a fluke at first, but soon, more and more feathery flakes landed on your clothes and hair, littering the floorboards of the front porch in a myriad of geometric shapes.

“It’s snowing,” you gasped.

“First snow of the year.” Leon looked up, similarly in awe at the blinding yet beautiful scenery before him.

You stuck out your tongue to taste the fluffy, sticky ice which fizzled and melted on it. Then, a sudden thought struck you. 

“What time is it?” you asked.

Leon untangled his arm from underneath the layers, squinting at the clock face of his leather-strapped wrist watch. “Just past midnight—”

You jolted up, taking him by surprise. “It’s Christmas?”

Grinning at you, his hands encircled your wrists, the palms of which still laid on his chest. “Uh-huh, so, about my prize…” he tapered off suggestively.

“We’ll unwrap the gifts later with the rest of my family,” you scolded playfully.

“No, I mean, the prize I get for wearing the ugliest sweater in town,” he snickered.

Your heart was in your mouth as your mind raced, simultaneously attempting to come to terms with what he was implying and second-guessing yourself. 

“What kind of prize…” you began, but didn’t manage to complete the sentence as you found yourself drifting toward him on your own accord, closing the gap as you licked your lips and watched with bated breath.

His gaze dropped to your lips as he caressed your cheek with his knuckles. Cupping your face in his hands, he tilted his head, nudging his nose against yours as he planted a tender kiss along your parted lips. You stayed like this for a while, tentatively exploring, soft kisses and skin upon skin, tasting each other until the both of you were satisfied.

When you finally broke away, there was a fond look in his eyes, as though he were seeing you for you, just like you did with him. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured, voice half-dazed and husky.

“Merry Christmas, Leon,” you smiled.

Dividers by @saradika

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

As a person who was genuinely made uncomfortable when I discovered Viv does all this crap like 🍇-romantification, I appreciate this blog so far.

For months I've been trying not to interact with hazbin because of viv's actions, which genuinely makes me sad cause I really liked the show (not including episode 4).

I understand darker skin not suiting your style (like mine) or having trouble with different proportions of characters due to where they're from or something (like me) but the fact that she made all the bad guys that way really doesn't scream "I have trouble drawing ____!"

⚠️YOU ARE NOT REQUIRED TO REPLY OR READ FULLY⚠️

Hi! Totally get this all dw, I just got out of the hospital however so if I explain weird please forgive me 😬 also dont take all of this as me giving specifically you a lecture, this is just me letting my thoughts flow out to whoever is reading 🤝

Also theres leaks in this! If you people don’t want leaks be sure to not read past “read more”!!

Its been brought to my attention that the information in the next paragraph is not true and Vivzie did not design or draw these characters! So she apparently just actually can’t draw them at all

Viv has absolutely no problem drawing POC! I mean just look at the human designs for the succubi in Helluva boss

These designs are wonderful and very diverse! But out of these characters, the ones that are important are Verosika and Vortex and even then these characters are side characters. And on top of that, technically they’re only really coded as POC since these aren’t their true bodily forms, but hey thats a topic for another time. Let’s just ignore that for now and say they 100% are POC, they’re still side characters. She can draw POC wonderfully, she just has issues… making them important.

For characters like Alastor (who was only made POC to get away with demonising a closed religion) we don’t see him as his human form. I mean to be fair why would we- but also why did he turn white when he died?? Why did his entire hair texture change. This is a problem for Vivzie where she doesn’t want to commit to representation or feels she doesn’t need to. Vivzie could’ve made Alastor’s design look more like his leaked human design or couldve just altered his colours a bit, but she didn’t do this because she feels so connected to her original high school OC design that she cant bring herself to change him. Like look at this.

Yeah it’s got a different style, but this is the same guy; he’s just weirdly marketable now. It’s incredibly easy to tell that Vivzie didn’t want to change him if she didn’t 100% have to. Lets take a look at Alastor’s old human design.

This guy definitely looks like he could be Alastor! He’s got the same sort of hair but shorter in the back and a little more combed, but looking at this you can still tell it’s Alastor. However this guy doesn’t exactly seem mixed, right? That’s because he isn’t! Back way way in ye olden days when Alastor went from race ambiguous to white, he just kind of looked like that! And there’s no problem with him being white! Good for him on doing that! I guess!? But when you look his design now, things start to come off as a bit odd.

This is where you non-leakers go read somethin else

This is an entirely different person now. Not just race wise, but personality, the way he presents himself in the arts pose, and just overall the actual look of the character. He looks conniving yes, but he doesn’t look like Alastor. This is not a face matchup.

Now, you definitely can have your ugly little red thing design and still use that human one! You just have to not be too chicken to actually change your character so it makes sense. Let me demonstrate.

Shocking how easily this design can fit the human one while still maintaining the original aesthetic of the base design isn’t it! This Alastor looks like the provided new human design. If you don’t want the character to change, don’t change them physically. And if you do, follow through on it and don’t be a wimp. I don’t see whats so hard to grasp about that to this lady. If you want to keep that same ugly fucking bob then just keep him white. She literally only changed his race so she can use it as an excuse to appropriate vodou. Vivzie can draw POC, she just doesn’t want to when it comes to actually having to change a character. Anyway, good day!