#anyways thanks to my friend for suggesting i do this

[pitchsidestories]

A love like in the Christmas movies II Lea Schüller x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1133

summary: Lea and Reader do a cozy Christmas movie marathon together. requested

author's note: Dear readers, have you spot the easter eggs from met someone ? Nonetheless, enjoy the fanfic. 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Everything was set for a great Christmas movies evening, the overhead lights were out, instead fairy lights and candles turned everything into a warm glow including your girlfriend’s and your face. It was perfect until a phone call interrupted the peaceful atmosphere.

“Wait, I’ll just take the call and then I’ll make us two cups of hot chocolates.”, Lea promised.

With an innocent smile on your lips, you asked her: “Okay. With marshmallows too?”,

 “Of course.”, she loved warmly.

“Thank you.”, you mouthed still smiling as the blonde answered the phone call.

The Bayern Munich player didn’t expect to hear her friend this evening, the brunette was on the mission to find love in a queer bar which Georgia recommended. From the disappointment in Lena’s voice she could tell that it wasn’t going according to plan.

While the minutes’ passed by Lea was looking longingly at you cozying up in her sweater on the sofa, oh, what the forward would do to be back in your arms to watch a few Christmas movies sipping some hot beverage.

“Tomorrow at my place? I’ll cook a lot of hot chocolate and then we’ll watch a stupid romcom?”, the blonde offered her best friend.

“Didn’t you do that today already.”, the midfielder returned the question in a teasingly tone turning the older players cheek soft pink.

Touché, Lena knew her teammate all too well. Even though the younger woman mocked her lovingly, she agreed to come the next evening to do exactly what the striker suggested.

“Was that Lena?”, you asked your girlfriend curiously once the blonde ended the phone call.

“Yes, Lena’s not coming, the finding love in a bar sadly didn’t work out for her, but that means more space for us on the sofa. Do you want some Lebkuchen along side the hot chocolate.”, Lea nodded.

“Homemade or shop bought?”, you questioned.

“Sorry, I’m a very busy person just like yourself, so it’s not baked by me.”, your girlfriend chuckled, putting some gingerbread biscuits on a festive plate as the blonde waited for the drinks to be ready.

“That’s okay. I don’t trust your baking skills yet anyway.”, you teased smirking referring to the first time you properly met each other.

“Oh my god, it’s hard to cook while being filmed by such a gorgeous woman behind the camera, okay?”, she protested, her cheeks turning into an even deeper pink which you thought looked adorable on her.

 “Oh, yeah sure.”, you replied and laughed nervously. Receiving compliments wasn't exactly one of your strengths. Although you knew that the striker meant every sweet word that crossed her lips.

To show that she was serious about it, she gave you an encouraging smile as she finally handed you a Christmas mug. “Trust me.“

“At least your hot chocolate is good.“, you subtly changed the topic after you took a sip from the hot chocolate, careful not to burn your mouth.

“It is, right? Have you chosen a Christmas movie yet?”, Leah asked while sitting back down on the sofa.

“I have. I hope you like it too.“, you nodded and pressed play.

You were not surprised that she recognised the movie within the first few minutes.

“Happiest season?”

“Yes?”, you confirmed, uncertain if she even liked the movie.

Lea tilted her head as if she was considering your choice for a moment. “I mean sure. Even though Audrey Plaza and Kristen Stewart should have ended up together, so if they ever do a part two and you direct it, it needs to be about them getting together.“

You tried hard not to laugh as you reminded her: “Lea, I do sports documentaries.“

“Just saying.“, she shrugged.

“Okay, I will tell my agent that she should keep an eye out for that.“, you joked.

Lea nodded with a grin: “She better should. I know you would do a better job.“

“You think so?”, you laughed.

“Yes.“

But you could tell that Leas thoughts were somewhere else all of a sudden. She had been staring at the plate of chocolate covered gingerbreads without saying anything else until you realized what was going on.

“Are you calculating how many Lebkuchen each of us get? You’re such a math nerd.“

The striker looked back up at you, her mouth opened in a little offended O. “What do you mean math nerd? Who wouldn’t? I just want to share them fairly.“

“You know what I meant.“, you continued to tease her with a smirk.

Rolling her eyes, she agreed: “Yeah, I do.“

“See.“

You only spend a few minutes watching the movie in silence until Lea asked: “What would happen in a Christmas movie you made?”

You tore your eyes away from the screen, taking a moment to think about that question while Lea watched you curiously.

“Easy. I’d let protagonist A and protagonist B meet three Christmases in a row. The first time A is in a relationship while B is single, the next Christmas it would be the other way around and then on the third Christmas they would finally get together.”, you explained.

Leas eyes narrowed: “Wait, this is our story.”

“Says who?”, you asked innocently.

“So I’m person A.”, Lea concluded.

“Maybe yes, maybe no. Fiction doesn’t work like that, meine Liebe.”, you shrugged. The truth was that it was in fact about the two of you. Two years ago, you had been working on a short documentary about Leas career and immediately found that you liked her but she was in a relationship.

You kept in touch and a year later you accidentally ran into each other again right before Christmas but at that point you were dating someone who you thought could be the right person. Until Lea. And now you were sitting in her living room as girlfriends and discussing if your story would make a good plot for a Christmas movie.

“Yes, it does!”, Lea protested.

“If you say so. You can choose the next Christmas movie.“, you said while pointing towards the TV where the credits flickered across the screen already.

“Okay, fine.“, the football player agreed but instead of taking the remote, she just studied you.

“What? Or… do you want to do something else?”

“I mean I have a few suggestions.“ Her blue eyes lit up as she flashed you an innocent smile.

“Which ones?”

You watched Lea bite her lip in response, a flash of impatience on her face as she got up from the sofa. She gently pulled you up with her and winked: “Let’s go.“

You made your way to the bedroom. The lights on her Christmas tree were still on and the hot chocolate mugs stood forgotten on the coffee table. It didn’t matter. You both waited too long to finally spend this Christmas together.

Christmas/Winter Oneshots

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

[mr2swap]

Late Christmas gift

I looked at the kitchen clock again, “6:36PM” It had only been 2 minutes since I last looked, after that I looked at the phone just to confirm that the time was correct, Maybe Grandpa Greg's flight had missed. Delayed? We hadn't seen each other, I placed my grandfather's glasses over my eyes, which I had easily gotten used to always having at my side.

I hated these stupid glasses, Grandpa's eyes work as much as his tiny, wrinkled cock, it's been over a year since me and Grandpa swapped bodies, I'd forgotten to buy a damn gift for Grandpa Greg, I didn't even know he liked me. To old people before I became one... I should have given him a foot massager. This huge belly makes my feet so tired that I prefer not to move from the couch for hours.

Anyway, I didn't have a gift, so I just wrote on a piece of paper “Valid for any gift.” How the hell was I supposed to know that what I wanted for Christmas was to be young again?”

The day after Christmas we simply woke up in each other's bodies and the worst thing of all is that we can't say anything about this ridiculous body swapping! Every time I try to tell my parents or one of my friends that I'm trapped in my grandfather Greg's obese, disgusting decrepit body, those thoughts just disappear from my mind and I start talking like I'm a 60-year-old old man. The last time I tried to tell my ex-girlfriend Stephanie, I “woke up” at the racetrack showing off my enormous stomach with a pipe in my lips and several empty beer cans around me.

But all this would end soon... or at least it was supposed to. We had tried everything to swap again, we even watched a long marathon of body swap movies to try various methods, but nothing worked... the only solution was to try to recreate what caused this problem in the first place, I just had to give him the same gift, and he would write “my body back” or something like that.

My family was preparing for dinner when suddenly a sound that came from my cell phone made me put the beer I was drinking on my huge belly.

“I'm sorry kid, but I didn't know how to tell you in person, I decided to leave things as they are for a while, I still have things to do with your body, but don't worry I'll be back for the new year... maybe, I just met a guy incredible on the beach and I wouldn't want to ruin it”

Hey guys! happy holidays!

This is a little story I wrote last year for my Ko-Fi page, thank you all so much for another wonderful year, if you like bodyswap and stories you can support me on my Ko-fi page to access my archive of over 250 bodyswap stories, from my old patreon and discord…

oh! And join my discord server, if you like RP or if you have any ideas that you would like me to write in a future story, I'm taking suggestions for ideas and images.

[izsheum]

Hello!!!

Can i listen to you yap about rodimus and swerve for hours please 🥺🥺🥺🥺

WHEN I TOLD YOU I JUMPED FOR JOY!!!

ugh these guys have been in my brain for a bit now…i swear

“it’d be cool if i took my favs and made them kiss haha that’d be so silly” and then Boom. I kept thinking.

have some art of them i am in the trenches methinks

when i tell you they are PEAK yapper + louder yapper…

like i genuinely believe that’s how it can start. two losers who love to hear themselves talk? it should be a recipe for disaster.

However.

it’s not like swerve doesn’t know when it’s not his turn to talk. he’s got a big mouth, and criminal levels of audacity, but he has manners. and that means that whenever rodimus goes on and on about whatever bullshit he had to deal with during the day, he listens.

and, good lord, rodimus can definitely talk.

he does so with swerve probably after having a few because i mean…that’s how this starts, surely. a bottle of top-shelf and a purely functional arrangement.

(hundreds of words of sleep-deprivation-induced writing under the cut. i am so sorry. completely sfw btw just barely on the edge of suggestive.)

predictably, swerve’s constant chatter is bearable after rodimus gets in a few drinks. and in the beginning of Whatever The Hell They Got Going On starts with the two of them building a routine.

swerve supplies the shots of liquid stress relief and a listening ear (audio processor? cybertronian anatomy is lost on me), and rodimus provides what can only be described as a semi-coherent stream of complaints and whines about his day. and he has a lot to gripe about—he’s suffering from an acute case of ‘doomed by the narrative’, primus help him.

and swerve, for the most part, is quite a good active listener. not that rodimus would ever admit that out loud (for now) because swerve wouldn’t be able to keep that kinda praise to himself. i mean, the guy raved for months after getting his own rodimus star…yeah, no, not happening. rodimus’ appreciation will remain unspoken, thank you very much.

he gets his sentiment of ‘thank you for listening to my bullshit, you’re such a good friend’ out there by continuing to show up. same time, every day, like clockwork. he’s there in the bar, long laundry list of things he’s going to cry like a baby about, and swerve is at the ready with the fainting couch. their little ‘whine and cheese hour’ (as swerve calls it. rodimus will adamantly deny that he likes the name. it’s not clever. it’s not! it’s apparently a human thing, anyways. little thief.) is probably the only thing he’s ever on-time for at this rate.

having someone listen politely to your woes is. nice! having someone gently try and guide you into solutions to said problems is…manageable, i suppose.

having someone who gasps dramatically and exclaims “i can’t believe you had to deal with that—you’re so much stronger than me for putting up with such scrap” is euphoric.

because since getting the weight of the universe thrust on his shoulders again and again. since he had it ground into him every single day that he needs to be this mature, wise, thoughtful leader who doesn’t react to problems with complaints, but rather calm understanding followed by benevolent resolution…rodimus has completely, truly missed just being able to talk shit.

and, oh, does swerve just love that song and dance.

this isn’t therapy, and neither of them are going to pretend it is, though the constant flow of drinks does manage to feel like something akin to self-medication after a while. their lives are messy, god damn it, and they’re going to cope with it messily!

and cope they do. and they talk. a lot. and—for some reason—it helps. turns out, when you get to vent all your frustrations towards someone who knows how to match your energy exactly, you feel seen. not as this esteemed figure who needs to watch what he says and make sure he keeps up the display of picture-perfect-motivational-cat-poster-leader twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five…but as just. a guy. a guy with a lot on his shoulders and a lot more on his mind. turns out, talking with swerve ends up helping rodimus feel normal.

go figure.

and somewhere between the start of their little unofficial gossip sessions and the end of another bottle of the good engex, something bubbles up that wasn’t there before. and it isn’t the carbonation in the cocktail.

feelings. affectionate ones. rodimus goes to recharge afterwards all giddy, like some newly forged spark still buzzing with boundless energy, and honestly? he feels like he might be going crazy. might need some actual fucking therapy, because ho-ly shit he is not about to entertain this. not at all.

because, let’s be real here, it’s swerve we’re talking about. swerve. s-w-e-r-v-e. the ‘shut your damn mouth’ guy? he used to annoy the living hell out of rodimus when he first came aboard, and nowadays rodimus finds himself excited at the thought of going to talk to him again.

war changes people…and, okay, the war is. over, technically. but still. maybe he hit his head a little too hard during a mission. yeah! yeah, that’s it. little concussion knocked a couple things loose in his processor. that’s why he’s suddenly wanting to share more than just his woes with the little ‘bot. that’s why he starts asking swerve about himself, why he starts listening back. chimes in every so often with “huh, i never knew that” or “you should show that to me some time” when swerve goes on his little tirades about foreign media.

why rodimus can’t help but wonder how that big mouth would feel against—

phew! yeah, definitely brain damage. because the alternative is that rodimus has started feeling terrible, awful, affectionate things for swerve. and that just won’t do. nope!

but ohhhhhh god, does that do nothing to stop his imagination. because really. how would swerve fare if he used that mouth for something else—

thankfully for rodimus, swerve is an avid fan of imagining things that he can never have. dreaming like the hopeless mech he is about a future that only someone as deeply delusional and para-social as himself could think up.

in his swerve-y fantasy, the talks start to mean something. rodimus goes from coworker to situational friend to…something. something that he can’t place his finger on. but it’s something that he doesn’t believe he can have. because while rodimus laughs at his jokes…he’s also laughing drunk. and swerve is desperate to let people close, sure. he likes people, he wants friends, he loves connection. but he’s not stupid. a bit air-headed? sure. but not dumb. not by a long shot. he has a mental list of things that he can try to have (friendship, a successful business, endless adventures with said friends that he plans to get more of, he swears), and things that are off-limits.

you can guess which box rodimus starts to fall into.

doesn’t mean he can’t…y’know. think about him. a lot. find excuses to comm him about this or that, subtly hint that he misses him…uh, he meant their talks! offer him free drinks just to see the way his face lights up. deny the suspicion of special treatment by reminding rodimus that he’s the captain! c’mon! of course he deserves a little leeway!

and ignore the fact that the reassurance is more for himself.

swerve is so good at believing that this something he imagines with rodimus is so, so far out of reach that he thinks it’s a joke when rodimus propositions him for the first time.

and, c’mon, he’s gotta be having auditory hallucinations. because there’s no fucking way in the world—in the galaxy, or in the whole universes that he’s visited, for that matter—that (co-) captain fucking rodimus prime-not-prime-status-still-pending-thanks-a-lot-matrix-of-lameship asked to borrow him for the evening. he nearly drops the glass in his hand.

because that’s the only way rodimus can bring himself to phrase it when he finally fucking gets through all five-billion stages of grief over this stupid crush. god. he was so pathetic. the worst part was that he didn’t even care anymore.

“yo! are you working tonight? can i borrow you for the rest of it? we can watch that movie you were talking about earlier this week, or whatever.”

or whatever. rodimus would’ve just tossed himself out the nearest airlock if he wasn’t glued to his recharged slab (not literally, this time) rocking back and forth like an asylum patient. he could hear the cries now—nurse! nurse! he’s out again!

successful attempts at being casual: zero. days since last urge to ram his head into the wall: also zero.

swerve’s response comes in quickly just before rodimus contemplates jumping ship and taking a page outta megatron’s book and starting a new life in another universe. and if rodimus wasn’t busy having a fucking panic attack, he’d’ve noticed the undercurrent of excitement in swerve’s voice when he strains out those six little words.

“sure thing! your place or mine?”

it ends up being at rodimus’. more space meant more wall for the projection of ‘Alien’.

not that they ended up paying much attention to the movie by the time the fledgling xenomorph got loose.

and liiiisten. listen. they didn’t plan on it going that way, alright? major props to ridley scott—the two of them were intensely invested in the film for a good long while. but, as per usual, swerve brought drinks to help ease the tension that threatened to smother them as soon as he entered rodimus’ quarters.

he would’ve pat himself on the back, too, if he wasn’t so consumed by the way the light of the projection reflected off of rodimus’ frame. and rodimus would’ve thanked him (and i mean, like, actually thank him, no reluctance left in him whatsoever) if he wasn’t so focused on the warmth of swerve next to him.

the elephant in the room was slaughtered and left for dead in the same way as the crew of the nostromo as soon as they locked eyes.

and rodimus ended up being right.

swerve’s mouth could do a lot more than just talk.

[fandoms-in-law]

Robin had been hanging around all morning, watching as Steve wrote out his final cards for the kids and added toys into the music tin with them. “So is this the last day they’re getting treats from you? Or have you got some Christmas gifts on top of everything else you’ve given them this month?” She asked.

“This is the last thing I’m giving them. Christmas day is for family, anyway. Not like they’re going to want to come see me tomorrow.” He muttered, glancing over just in time to see her face scrunch a bit like she disagreed with that statement.

“And that’s why you’re set up as if there’s a party expected?” She pointed at the snacks that had been put out just before Steve filled the music box.

He barely looked at them. “You’ve seen those shitheads, right? They act like any trip to my house is a party.”

She tilted her head in a half nod, accepting the reasoning just as they heard a vehicle pull up outside. “And I bet that’s them having badgered Eddie to bring them all.”

“Nope, Erica has a friends Christmas party today. I think Lucas will be taking hers.” Steve corrected, sealing the music box and leaving it on a side table as he went to open the door.

“The Nerd said we’re celebrating here first today, but you better have ice cream and be ready to take me to Tina’s.” Erica greeted, walking past him immediately.

Everyone else filed in behind her, Eddie laughing a little at her words.

Steve called after her, “If I must, I must, but why can’t Eddie? Am I expected to let these guys run wild while I’m out?”

“Ice cream, Harrington! I want some now.” She demanded, ignoring the question.

“Not a waiter, try the kitchen.” He rolled his eyes, heading back to Robin, “Do I need to decide which of you opens the final day I’m doing that this year, or have you already decided?” He pointed at the music box and the kids all glanced to each other.

Lucas eventually stepped over to it, huffing towards the kitchen, “Erica had insisted she would but if all she wants now is ice cream, I’ll do it.”

“Doesn’t being Scoops Troop mean I get to when she doesn’t?” Dustin protested but didn’t move to stop him, “I swear that should overrule siblings.”

“It doesn’t. Platonic soulmates would, but that’s me and Steve, not you brats.” Robin said.

By this time Lucas had opened the tin and was passing out envelopes to everyone, leaving the reindeer toys inside it for the moment.

Max held hers up smirking, “Couldn’t stop yourself from giving us envelopes again, could you? How expensive can we make these?”

“Not very, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to make them annoying to fill anyway.” Steve matched her smirk, waiting for the rest to all open their envelopes before coughing, “And the rest, Lucas?”

Lucas nodded, turning back to get the reindeers out, “Can I cash my movie night now? You did bring some other Christmas movies home yesterday, right?” He asked, gesturing with his envelope as he handed the toys around to each of his friends.

“Sure, but I thought you guys would like some races first.” Steve shrugged at the suggestion, smirk widening at the groans that broke out.

El tilted her head, looking at her friends, “Why are races bad?”

“He’s trying to make us exercise again, El. This isn’t meant to be a work out.” Mike complained.

“But the reindeer can wind up, don’t they move like those toys you showed me before?” She asked Max now.

Narrowed eyes turned on Steve from Will and Mike, “You meant race the toys? Or are you talking about running?”

“The reindeer, but thanks for repeating your disdain for exercise you already do. Is cycling everywhere unless Eddie or I agree to give you a lift not exercise to you?” Steve quipped, pulling a large page he’d drawn a race line on over. El, Lucas and Max setting their reindeer down on it almost as soon as it was settled on the floor.

The other boys looked like they were trying to argue but didn’t have any response even after Erica came back through, a bowl of ice cream in hand. “Really is a party this time, dorky games and all. Where’s mine?” She asked, soon taking her movie night voucher and reindeer toy from where Lucas had set them beside the music tin.

Steve hadn’t been sure how the kids would like the music tin when he first added sweets into it, but it really had made his Christmas time a lot less lonely than he’d thought it might be. He loved these kids, and loved getting them to hang out with him a bit more often.

The Advent Music Box

Author's note: Doing this on a whim and the fact work gave me the music box inspiring this

Summary: Steve is sent a care package from his parents at the start of December

/\

It started with a music box.

Steve’s parents had sent him a care package that arrived on the first of December and in it was some snacks, a few items clearly intended as Christmas presents and the music box.

There was a sticker on it saying there were cookies inside it too but he took most of the morning to figure out that instead of taking a lid off like most tins needed, he had to remove the bottom of the music box.

That was what gave him the idea to fill it and challenge the kids to get the treats from inside. Since they didn’t actually go to his house very often he took it into Family Video, sure at least one of the kids would turn up sooner or later.

Perhaps he could even swing seeing them every day if he said he’d fill it with at least something small for them each day.

[alchemisticramblings]

chess tips from your local five hundred year old man

[yellowocaballero]

Omg hi Ms. Yellow Caballero big fan of your work <3 For real though, I'm really excited that your sharing the Weekenders, it was a joy to read and I'm bongocat-ing now that others also get the privilege to read it as well.

Referencing your tags, would you please elaborate of ableism in fandom and, like you said, how fandom treats characters with unpalatable disabilities?

Hi Ms. Bud Lite I'm a big fan of you <3

TL;DR A fear of writing characters of highly marginalized identities shields you from criticism and discomfort, but it's actively stigmatizing to people of these identities and as a writer you really need to get over yourself and write The Icky People.

I guess I'll come out swinging on this one and say that fandom doesn't like severe mental illness. (As a note, when I say severe mental illness (SMI) I mean illnesses such as psychotic disorders, bipolar disorder, substance use disorders, personality disorders, etc)

Obviously, nobody likes people w/SMI. It's just insanely egregious in fandom to me, since fanfic writers absolutely love writing characters or HC characters with depression, anxiety, or a specific variety of PTSD That Isn't Scary. People actively reject any character HCs for a SMI. When people write a character with SMI, they nicely downplay it, ignore it, substitute it for a disorder they like better, or rewrite it. It's completely untolerated, in both headcanons and in fanfiction, and every time I bring it up I always get the most interesting reasons why somebody couldn't possibly acknowledge a character's SMI in their writing. I've heard all of these:

"I don't know enough about the disorder to write it accurately." Do research.

"I'm not X, so I can't really depict it." You probably aren't a cis white man, but you depict those guys just fine.

"It feels insulting to the character." There is no shame in having a SMI.

"I can't understand what it's like, so it's better to be cautious and avoid giving characters stigmatized identities." There are LOTS of experiences that you'll never understand because you've never had them - you just don't want to write anything you're uncomfortable with. People with SMI make you uncomfortable, and you don't want to write anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, or think of a comfort character in an uncomfortable way. SMIs are marginalized differently than solely depression/anxiety/The Nice PTSD, and by refusing to write them you're actively contributing to the stigma.

I think (?) I've spoken in the past about how I believe that the rigorous external and internal policing of writing people of marginalized identities is actively harmful towards efforts to increase diversity of experience and background in fiction. A lot of fanfiction writers are just terrified to write people who they can't directly relate with, because they're worried 'they'll get it wrong' and be Big Cancelled. I think this is negative enough when it prevents people from going outside of their comfort zone, but on a macro level I think this results in people refusing to write characters of marginalized identities as all. It's an insidious thought process, and it's reflected in people's unwillingness to diversity their writing or acknowledge canon diversity.

'Well, I don't understand what it's like to be Black, so I don't want to write Black people'. 'I want to project on this character, so I only want to write them with mental illnesses and identities I have'. 'If I write a marginalized character incorrectly people will yell at me, so I won't write a marginalized character who's marginalized differently than me at all'. Can you imagine writing a lesbian character with a boyfriend because 'you feel uncomfortable writing lesbian experiences'? It's blatantly homophobic. But people do that with disability and race/ethnicity ALL THE TIME.

People with SMI notice that you feel uncomfortable with them. It's obvious. They notice when a character has a SMI + anxiety, and you only write their anxiety. They notice when a character displays symptoms of a SMI in canon, but you write it out. And POC notice when the characters of color are written out. I know we all like to project on the blorbos and relate to them, and in the joys of your own head do whatever, but as a writer if you only stick to identities you're comfortable with you are actively being a worse writer. Which to me is the REAL sin lmfao.

[icterid-rubus]

So now on top of coming with me to the Christmas lights yesterday, later this week my classmate is going with me to the zoo to see their lights, then to ice cream on the weekend, and finally a birthday treat before Christmas. I’m quite pleased but also, ow, my wallet.

[more-than-a-princess]

That was probably wise: anyone wishing to identify themselves as someone protecting a former Remnant of Despair, particularly one so visible as she was, was someone asking for trouble. Sympathy towards her and her friends was not a popular view, even in the Future Foundation itself. Makoto Naegi was only able to command the authority he did, Sonia thought, because he was able to defeat Junko Enoshima and in turn, he was given whatever he asked or got away with whatever he wished. His former classmates, those still alive anyway, followed in his footsteps for that belief. Even Togami.

So where, then, did Yaguchi fit in all of this? As far as she could recall, her classmates had perished in The Tragedy. All of them, and yet she'd somehow survived. Sonia hadn't thought to ask how or why: it wasn't her place, and she doubted it was something Yaguchi wanted to remember.

"If you insist, I will not counter the suggestion of having you accompany me," Sonia told her, unable to keep the fatigue from seeping into her tone or her eyes. Being a midwife for a cat was exhausting enough, but the realization that no one cared about her well-being more than Yaguchi did and that Yaguchi herself didn't seem to fathom the extent of it...well. Maybe it was something between exhaustion and concern. Just like the hopeful future Yaguchi could reach out and grab if she wished, Sonia's own reality would be a blemish upon it. "Besides. If it is not you, I believe the intent is to send someone else very experienced in combat who answers to Togami, who would have to visit far more frequently to assess my progress."

Something she wondered had more motives than one, a thought that made her skin crawl. The world was bigger than the Future Foundation and they both knew it: not even a thwarted Armageddon could alter the familial duties of the rich and privileged. The ones who had survived The Tragedy, anyway.

She nodded at Yaguchi's agreement. For now, that needed to be enough, her vocalized promise to evacuate Novoselic when she was no longer content with her life there. But a part of Sonia wondered if the woman could realize it when she faced it, or if she'd just endure. Her perseverance surely must have kept her alive through The Tragedy, at her own expense. Who was to say it wouldn't surface again?

"Good, that is what I ask of you to accompany me," She replied, leaving no amount of negotiation in her terms. "But my kindness is just...humanity, I think. Or an attempt to be a human again after the monster I was. Or still am, I'm not sure if being a member of the Remnants of Despair is something I will ever be able to truly put behind me. Do not give me too much credit, Yaguchi: I do not deserve it." She didn't deserve to live, even, but Sonia chose not to mention that as she let go of the other woman's hands in order to begin moving the messy blankets and towels off the bed. It was a two person task to move the mother cat and her kittens onto clean, warm blankets for the evening, though Sonia could at least bundle the soiled linens and toss them into a clean laundry bag for someone to retrieve in the morning.

Something she realized too, thankfully. Once they'd moved the cats so not only they'd be kept clean and warm, but Sonia would have a place to sleep as well, it was time to settle in. "I am not too hungry, thank you," Sonia admitted, finally able to stretch her legs out properly in her own bed. Small luxuries: she'd nearly been certain she'd have to sleep on the floor that night in favor of the new, growing family that called her cabin their new home. "But a cup of hot herbal tea would be lovely, if you do not mind preparing it. I have some rose and violet tea sent from home, in the pink and purple tin." She gestured to it. Chocolate was still too bitter or too saccharine for her to stomach but she'd give Novosonian roses a try. Since she'd woken up, she'd found the scent too cloying, too irritating for her nostrils, likening it more to blood than flowers (and for good reason: she'd dipped white ones into human blood to decorate her castle). But she'd try it again, if just in an attempt not to let Yaguchi down in how much of a disappointment to Novoselic, and to her, she'd surely be.

"I'm aware that it doesn't matter to Future Foundation, Miss Nevermind, but it matters to me." Shinobu let out a soft sigh. "I don't wish to make myself out to be your protector, or someone to whom you owe anything." That wasn't how she thought, and it was important to impress that upon Sonia. Shinobu had her vanity and her arrogance still, in some places, but to be so self-aggrandizing at this point in her life was unlike her. "But, if the rest of my organization is indifferent, and the world you're soon to inhabit is against you, then, I'd rather you have at least one person on your side."

Her hands were holding hers softly, and what Shinobu wanted to do was slip one of her own from Sonia's grasp, and gently cradle the side of her face. This was the woman who was so resigned to everything in her future? The woman who believed that she deserved everything awful that happened to her? The woman who looked in the mirror and saw in it nothing good reflected back? Were it not so serious a moment, Shinobu might have found it humorous enough to laugh, in their own fragile way.

No, Sonia Nevermind had always been a good person, and Shinobu had known that from the night they'd first met. What other explanation was there for her attempting to extract such a promise? They were friends, perhaps, but Shinobu knew they couldn't be equals, not so long as she was a Future Foundation agent. If Sonia resented her for her freedom and position, Shinobu could never have blamed her. But instead, she sat beside her, urging her to reach out and take happiness for herself. It was earnest and genuine. The least Shinobu could give her in return was the same genuine sentiment, even if there were truths she couldn't speak.

Softly, she squeezed Sonia's hand as she once again looked at her, gazing into Sonia's cool blue eyes without blinking. Her own eyes were intense, Shinobu was sure, as they always were, but she tried to keep her expression as gentle as she could to properly convey her feelings. "You're kind to care so much about my well-being, and my future. Thank you, Miss Nevermind. Truly." It was a gift for another person to be worried about her, to consider her feelings and her desires, even when they might have conflicted with Sonia's own.

The truth was that there was nothing else she wanted. There was no career that suited them, and no home to return to. The family estate could have been destroyed, and were it not, then her pond was rotten with the corpses of her pets and the winds had scattered the rock garden sand such that it would take days to fix. So many of her friends were long-dead, and both her mentor and her girlfriend had been killed recently too. There was nothing back there for her except an empty apartment too large for one lonely woman.

Not that she'd say as much, of course. She'd told Sonia of her life before, but right now, there was no reason to make her feel guilty due to the state of things. Instead, they just nodded. "Alright, Miss Nevermind. I promise." Still looking at her, they gave her hands another small squeeze. "In the event that I decide that I no longer with to be with you in Novoselic, I'll put in my request to leave immediately." That day would not come - Shinobu was sure of it. It was a promise easy to make with that in mind, secure in the knowledge that the thing she would want most in this world would be to be at Sonia's side.

Only then did Shinobu break eye contact, gently bringing her hand away from Sonia's, and standing up from her seat. "But, it's been a long night, Miss Nevermind, and I imagine we might both be up a while longer with all the excitement that's gone on." The movie was still running, but even if it was quite cute, Shinobu had since stopped paying close attention. She supposed that was only natural when Sonia was being rather earnest and charming beside her, instead. "Can I get you something to drink, or, can I make you something to eat that's a little more substantial than popcorn?"

[phagodyke]

dating an art student was so crazy I'm just thinking abt that one birthday I had where my ex got me stickers from the etsy of the person they were cheating on me with....

[eternal-reverie]

got the posting anxiety bad tonight

[alwayshappyhoursomewhere]

[tamayokny]

my irl bestie: mads i know you're depressed asf because you have mitski on repeat

[sisterdivinium]

.

[aroaceleovaldez]

i am thinking about pjo promare aus again.

[rosicheeks]

I bought a painting in celebration of your bday!

As for suggestions, does your town have a drive-in movie theater? I know they are so rare now. A near by town where I live still has one and they renovated a few years ago to expand it! They added a huge indoor dining area, a playground for kids, and a good size dog park. It is now a bustling place to meet friends and family.

Not knowing what is available where you live limits what I can suggest (I am not asking for personal info about where you live).

I truly hope you have a great day no matter what you do. I wish you Joy and Love always, Princess!

AH thank you so so much sweetheart 🥰

[visionkept]

Ego sent me THIS JUICY ART and it got big OLDER TOMO vibes. The older they get, the longer their hair gets ! Plus. .  they let their body hair grow out too I’M 👀 👀 😳