#bc it feels weird to plug my own shit

[alexihollis]

me: *sees post asking where all the warriors fanfic is*

me: WE'RE DOING OUR BEST. THERES LIKE SEVEN OF US

[your-favourite-yapper]

popular girl mary x loser pandora mentioned

OK so this is sorta the same universe as this post (self plug)(trigger warning: outingand murder and suicide and murder)

so in like primary mary was like sorta bullied and in the late primary school area she gets paired off (by the tr bc noone wanted to offer to pair up w her) w this weird blonde haired and big blue eyes and ...are those bugs? g r e a t.

So yea they pair up and Mary on one hand does not Like pandora bc while yea maty IS a loser she's trying to not be one while pandora dgaf on the other hand pandora is maybe the onky person in the school who's like less cool than mary soooo maybe if mary makes fun of pandora she'd gain social points??

And so the project continues and pandora says the weirdest shit ever and when ppl smirk and snort at her she throws bugs at them and when mary asks her avt the project she replies w the most random sentences ever and is always practically vibrating w manic energy and this is how a convo bn them would go

M "mrs hannah says we need to show her the draft by sunday can u do Sunday"

P "my hands are so dizzy rn. I think its bc of the rainbo2 bugs i ate today"

But also one secret hidden part of mary wishes she was like pandora who Gen could care less abt what ppl think and talks abt her bugs and doesn't flinch when the students snicker at her when she starts her sentences w "greetings " and she doesn't feel embarass3d dor walking around on her own gasping at the walls of the school and singing the national anthem and yeah

And once mary has pandora over and pandora doesn't seem phased by Mary's whiny Lil siblings and the fact that her dad is out like 90% of the time working his ass off and so noones home and doesn't seem phased when they have to eat Ramen for dinner infant she even asks for ketchup to add on it

And Mary makes run of pandora to her friends but once again she takes things So Far she litr made fun of the underwear she saw In pandoras drawer from that time she was in her house for the project and everyone was like "mary that was kinda mean" and Mary's so confused bc she thought it was normal and once again she is an outsider

Ev mady goes to hs and she's starting to be Cool and once she's sure peter (another person from her primary in her hs) won't say anything abt the "old her" she begins to completely destroy her sense of self and just becomes a new person entirely and in fact forgets all abt pandora (not rlly)

And then.

Guess who transferred.

Guess. Who. Fucking. Transferred.

Pandora.

UGHHSGJ <- mary rn

after trying so hard to keep primary in the past, the ONE person she would have bated to come back to her hs is pandora

And the rzn she came here is bc she like, set her school on fire ""on accident"" and so she goes to the hs and yeah and Mary's like whatever we probably won't interact and Mary's so mean to pandora when pando4a tries talking to her She walks past her w her friends and tells her friends she's "just a loser" loudly so pandora can hear her and we'll pandora IS tech a loser in hs too BUT u kno how the school heretical structure is acc more common in middle school and not hs?? Yeah. Quiete a few ppl think pandoras funny and well since pandora has never cared on what ppl think of her She litr is unaffected but mary is SEETHINGGG bc how??? Mary has been training for the social heirchacial structure in hs her entire life and this bozo just got popular (not rlly) for no rzn????

And rmmbr how mary wants to do robotics ?? She goes into advanced phy and NONE of her main friends are there but she has many casual friends she could sit w right? But today somehow maty was running kate SKMEONE had shoveled snow infornt of her house (wonder who...) And well she enters the class late and everyone is in their sea5s...paired up...excpet ....pan fucking dora

So she sits next to her and can feel the eyes on her (noone cares) and to make things worse the tr said this is their perm seat chart and Mary thinks well they don't have to talk do they? And the tr gave them a group oroject...great

And pandora isn't oblivious so she knows what Mary's doing to her but doesn't care bc she thinks mary is hot and pandora is still weird but like more mature and she like I said has the MAJOR hots for mary but maary is so focused on popularity its sad so pandora will help her and see!! She's a good person!!

And so pandora arranges meetings for the projects in outdoor parks and enjoys watching mary squirm as pandora approaches her in the school hallway and those meetings in parks pandora ON PURPOSE keeps distracting mary and mary is so weirded as fuck looking at pandora w her face scrunched up and koyth slightly agape bc what type of bullshit is this bitch ssaying?? Qnd she forgets abt doing the project and pandora feels so proud bc mary litr would nvr do that 4 any1 else

And pandora let's mafy tmi to her and infact tmis BACK even tho she typically doenst like doing that and mary likes this (and of mary after realizing that pandora does this, strategically tmis not so embarrassing info and starts collecting embrassing info on pandora well...thats not here nir there is it 😇)and pandroa wasn't as Abad as she was in primary bc even tho she dgaf she has had to tone down a bit of her acc personality

And in one of their inc stupid convos pandora casually says she's bi and Mary's like wait how do u kno and pandora tells her and Mary's like u can't love girls AND boys and pandoras like nu uh and then she kisses her to let mary kno if she likes girls and it's so clumsy and flimsy bc they're 2 stupid teenage girls and pandora is like wow. Bc mary tastes like strawberry and she's licking the rem taste of her lips and Mary's like "uh oh" and they have a situationship and mary writes pandora stupid poetry and pandora tells mary abt taxidermy and they're so cute tighter excpet 4 the fact mary doesn't talk abt this 2 any1

Mary then realizes that the project isn't getting done and confronts pandora abt this in the hallway and it escalates...alot pandora doesn't like the fact that mary is yelling at her when her plan was going oerfectly and she doesn't like being yelled at in Gen and also she dgaf abt being embarrassed so she qkly starts yelling while mary who was in like survival mode all her life can see her status go to shambles in like 4k and so imm starts bringing up EVERY SINGLE TMI piece of info pandora told her INCLUDING THE FACT THAT SHES BI (its a catholic hs) until they're having a screaming match which then leads to a brawl where pandora scratches marys lip and bites her (??) And Mary pulls pandoras hair and manages to slap her like 5 times bc she got training from fighting h3r younger siblings

and they get sent to the principals office and mary after calming down is like acc tweaking bc she's nvr been sent to the principals office evr in her entire LIFE and pandora is si5ting there like woah. Bc mary tasted like strawberries and she's like licking her lips to get the rem taste (also she v much didnt mind being slapped but shh)

And bc mafy doesn't have ar3cord she gets 5 d3tentions and pandora gets suspended for a month but mary cries sm every1 thinks SHEs the one that got suspended

Ane when pandora came back mary did Damage Control and now somehow everyone HATES apndora so she changes schools and while she doesn't typically feel this much she's sEETHING AND THE ANGER FESTERS AND FESTERS BC MARY MADE HER THINK SHE CARED

so pandora becomes a stalker stalking mary all the way thru marys uni and her sm acc inc her spotify and knos her gmail and can c her utube history and can tell when she starts dating a girl (owie) she sees red

So she buys a truck

And gets her uncle to offer mary a job interview

And drives said truck

INTO MARYS FACE AND NOW MARYS BLOOD IS SPILLED ALL OVER HER TRUDK AND PANDORA IS SURE IT WOULD TASTE LIKE STRAWBERRIES AND SHE GETS OUT AND LICKS MARYS BLOOD AND IS MAD IG DOESNT TASTE LIKE STRAWBERRIES ON TNE INSIDE BUT ISNT SURPIRSED BC MARY WAS ALWAYS A FAKE LITTLE BITCH AND SHE BURSTS INTO TEARS AND HAS A FULL PSHYCOTIC BREAKDOWN AND GOES TO A MENTAL HOSPITAL FOR A YR AND WHEN SHES OUT SHE SPENDS HER DAYS DOCUMENTING EVERYTHING ABT MARY AND LEARNING HOW TO DRAW SO SHE CPUKD DRAW HER AND EVEN MOLDING CKAY SCULPTURES OF HER BOOBS AND SHE HAS A SHRINE OF MARY AND ONE NIGHT SHE SEES MARY IN HER HOUSE AND FOLLOWS HER INTO THE WOODS AND THEY TALK AND ITS SO FUN THEN MARY SENDS HER BACK HOME AND EV PANDORA IS RAVING SO SHE GETS A BOWL OF STRAWBERRIES AND SLEEPING PILLS AND ODS ON THEM

the last thing she tasted was mary

[neighboringheart]

woke up with a fever which means more canceled plans bc my body doesn't let me do fucking anything anyway minimegarod (or megarodimags? it's Mags in this scenario) breeding kink shit on the brain

picture it with me Rodimus strapped to a breeding contraption (I know it's got a name but I'm too tired and ill to remember rn) that keeps him comfortably laying on his front legs spread and valve bared but he's also strapped down so he can't escape even if he wanted to but they've been planning this for weeks so he's already dripping

Magnus playing the role of Rodimus' owner soothing him and telling him that he found the perfect stud to breed him until he's round with strong newsparks (which not possible in this scenario but he's saying it for Roddy's sake) and Rodimus whimpering and squirming like he's nervous until he feels huge warm servos land on his hips and a fat spike nudge his valve

Megatron grinds against his folds for a moment and it's the only warning Roddy gets before he's pressing in and spreading his loose walls wide around the plentiful ridges that adorn his shaft

for the sake of extra weird details Megs is also wearing a removable set of fake balls that Rodimus loves for the way they smack against his node with every rough thrust and it only makes the fantasy feel more immersive as though he actually could be bred which just makes him pull harder against his restraints trying to fuck himself against Megatron's fat spike

the final icing on the cake is the way Roddy gets more and more desperate as he feels Megatron's knot slowly inflate and bump against his entrance

Magnus will hold his face and pet him gently telling him that he's being so good and that he's gonna be full so soon and then he can rest and be pampered just like the rest of the carriers taking spike whenever he needs it

the knot is roughly shoved into him and he overloads drooling as he feels his valve filled with a thick flood of transfluid

it lights up every node he has and makes him feel weightless his walls stretching to hold it all and when Megatron's hips twitch trying to get just a bit more friction the way it sloshes rips a broken moan from his vocalizer

there's just so much and it feels so good clinging to every inch of the inside of his valve

he's barely cognizant as Magnus carefully wipes over his body waiting for Megatron's knot to deflate but when Megs finally pops it out Roddy's eyes go wide as some of the viscous cum squirts out of his valve sobbing as more tries to dribble out of him

how can he be a good carrier if he can't hold all that he's given what if it doesn't take

but Magnus is swift to scoop up whatever is dripping down his thighs and pressing it back into him easily sliding a plug into place that locks every last drop inside steadily pulsing charge to keep Rodimus calm

and if Magnus decides to commit a taboo and fill up his lovely bitch's aft port with a fat load of transfluid of his own who's to know

Rodimus certainly wouldn't tell anyone even if he could

[neganium]

Things I dream of constantly (mostly regarding a house that I'll probably never get to own):

A spacious walk-closet.

My own bathroom.

A big-ass bedroom, or a bedroom and a sizeable, connected office-type room, with walls that I can paint (a nice, pale purple, with some cream accents, maybe).

Big round furry rug in an open space on the floor.

Cleaning materials, like vacuums and shit. If I'm gonna start being clean, it better be fuckin' as easy as possible.

U-shaped desk with actual depth, and not built like it was made of fuckin' sticks or smth. I want all my shit to fit onto it, with room to spare.

Nice desk chair with foot rest; I feel like I actually need smth like that.

Desk mat. I saw one on Etsy once that was themed around fat, round cartoon frogs in a lily pond! <3

U know what, make that multiple desk mats, and a rotating selection of mousepads, too.

Ourple keyboard..........

Ourple mouse, too. They don't make those in ergonomic shapes, tho... and most of them are shitty wireless battery-powered fucks, or else the most expensive thing you ever saw. Or both, in the case of Logitech. Like, they're good mice, but wireless and battery-operated, not even plug in to recharge, tiny as fuck, and for that price??

Screen tablet. Also multiple monitors. I work better with distractions.

Nice speakers. Also nice headphones and/or earbuds. Headphones do sound better, but they hurt my ears bc they press against the arms of my glasses while I'm wearing them...

Purely indulgent, but microphone. I want to branch out some.

Reinforced floors. I cannot emphasize this enough. Our floors are fuckin' sagging, and it's making some of our furniture lean in a little, which can be very dangerous for tall things. Not to mention, they're also a bit wobbly.

Big, deep windowsills, set in nice, thick walls. Partially bc I love having extra space to put decorative shit, and partially bc gun violence is a real concern in this country; I don't want one of us to get got bc of paper-thin walls in a spontaneous drive-by peppering by way of car chase. (This fear is brought to you by an old anecdote that's floating around Tumblr somewhere.)

Single story. We're tired of fuckin' stairs; my mom and her cat are both too old for it, and my knees are pretty fucked from when I used to sit on the floor before I had actual chairs to watch TV in.

Full-sized bed with nice clean sheets and a downy comforter, complete with one of those fluffy, colorful duvets I see sometimes when I windowshop on Amazon.

Curtains. Love of god, I miss having curtains; I want different ones that I can cycle in and out with the seasons, too...

Mudroom. More than one, ideally. We need a place to hang wet raincoats and place muddy boots. I'd also like boots.

Shoes! Multiple pairs and kinds of shoes. Not heels or any shit like that, but just nice, workable shoes. Especially something a little more weather resistant, and some good house slippers with grippy soles.

An entire new wardrobe full of clothes that comfortably fit my weird, round, bloated stomach, suiting whatever aesthetic I may be feeling that day without looking like shit. I ain't shaped right, y'all.

[dex-starr]

I’m stuck in a weird state of mind where I want to move forward and be the person I was when I was happier but I’m also certain that because I was like that all this shit happened. Part of me wants to move forward with characteristics that I’d consider “worse”. And the real kicker? I don’t think it’s my expectation or need. It’s what everyone else is expecting of me. Everyone expected me to take my break up a certain way, I took it in the way I’m used to. I disassociated, thought logically. Thought for a long time until every possible solution was plugged in as an attempt in my mind but I came to no solution that made us both happy. When I came back into feeling my emotions I was already a mess and had trouble controlling them anyway bc audhd stuff and life just fucking me up.

I realize that now, I realize a lot that in taking care of others. Wanting to be there for others I never gave that to myself. I never gave that forgiveness or that soft touch, I always told myself to keep going and where I ended up is a result of that. But what I didn’t know would happen was being left alone to that, but I mean I guess it’s my problem to fix. I wish I had your help with it though — at times. But I don’t think you know how to do that too, not blaming you. Just the way things are. I think I’m super empathetic to everyone else but when it comes to my own emotions? I think maybe I don’t understand them as well as I think I do sometimes.

I’m trying hey, but all of this stuff doesn’t have a manual already and I kind of need instructions. I need structure here and there, I flow freely and it’s overwhelming.

Sometimes I wish you kept the confidence to do that more and didn’t do that in an argument, bc god would I have listened to you it’s just that my brain is bad at punishment/reward. Sometimes I want to be given a treat on-top of a treat when I do things. But if it’s just tossed at me for no reason after a while I think my brain just adjusts

[moodandmist]

SIX-SENTENCE SUNDAY

Hi!

Man, I've been having a really hard time sharing the past few weeks...I just can't get my brain out of this dark arena it's trapped in...hence Baz being a sad sack on my last share (the sun as Simon)...but I'm just gonna suck it up and grab a bit from my wip and post it bc I really need to break the seal and get back in the game here. It's NSFW bc that's how we do, that's what I'm working through and it's what Simon and Baz are working with (very happily).

Just a little meta thought here on PWP, something that's been on my mind...Smutty scenes may not always have a lot of plot...but they always have PURPOSE for me. There is an emotional depth that Simon and Baz are reaching for...a place they are reaching toward, of deeper closeness, love, support. Not every *moment* has to be that...but overall...the meeting of them together in physical closeness creates something that is more than the sum of its *physical* parts. Whether it's soft and tender or rough and boundary pushing. And I get that from *everyone's* PWP...like even if the purpose is just FUN. There is so much value in that. For Simon and Baz and for the reader (at least if the reader is yours truly 😄) Just wanted to assure anyone who like feels weird or embarrassed or like deprecating about their fic being PWP. Anyway...I don't know why I'm writing a book here...didn't mean for this to be a journal entry 🙄.

Ok, I don't know...here's a grab from the EGF fic that is just plugging along over here.

Simon and Baz have switched some power dynamics throughout this fic...NSFW below the cut.

******

BAZ

“Did you think you were in control, here? Hmm? Did you think you could control me?”

He shakes his head. “No. No.”

“Don’t lie to me, Simon.”

He swallows and steels his jaw. “...Yeah. Yeah I did.”

“And what do you think now, Simon?”

He gets a glint in his eye and I’ll be damned if he doesn’t take on his battle stance even with my cock buried deep inside him.

“…I think…I think you’re just as desperate to fuck me as I am to get fucked by you.”

I can’t help the surprised laugh that escapes my lips. “You’re a bit of a mouthy bastard aren’t you, Snow?”

“I thought you liked that about me.”

“Oh, I do. I do,” I say, lowering my voice, leaning down closer to his face. “It’s going to make it all the more satisfying when I fuck you till you can’t form words.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Absolutely.”

I pull back and thrust into him hard, making him cry out, his back arching and head falling back.

He’s panting now. “Oh, shit, shit…fuck...” He takes a few breaths, his chest heaving. “... good effort babe…but I’m still talkin’,” he laughs.

Crowley, I love that grin. I can’t help but smile back at this idiot…always challenging me. “You are, aren’t you—well, let’s fix that.”

******

One last thing...inspired to share this particular part above after reading @kherub EXCELLENT fic "Take a Picture". They also have a line about fucking Simon until he loses the ability to talk properly 😆 but my god they did it in SUCH a great way. This fic is SO GOOD. Go read it if you haven't!

Good grief, thanks for sticking with me here. ❤️

Thanks for the tags over the past week all of you lovely amazing creatives! Right back at ya. @bookish-bogwitch @fatalfangirl @gekkoinapeartree @facewithoutheart @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @martsonmars @palimpsessed @mrskrementz @cutestkilla @frjsti @confused-bi-queer @kherub @theotherhufflepuff @whatevertheweather @aristocratic-otter @johnwgrey @takitalks @creepyspice @angelsfalling16 and literally everyone else in this fandom. <3

[blole-hack]

I've been questioning if im autistic

big sensory problems seriously

i like vegetables but i cant stand the tastes of some of them and textures. i mean i eat it but there's certain THRESHOLDS that i just can't, im about to puke, im sorry. it tastes good but idk why my body is rejecting it

i cant stand STRONG TASTES and STRONG SMELLS. But apparently I smell some things stronger than others???? like i can smell pee in some places where others dont lol (its the bathroom of course i smell the pee) and then it sticks to my nose bc of the particles that got stuck on my mask (as in anti COVID-19 mask not masking) so i had to swap masks but everyone else seemed fine

cant stand cold food lol do i just have stomach problem

cant stand perfumes or efficascent oil

cant stand sounds that people dont even think are loud tbh but its mostly because I'm scared of damaging my ears

its really hard to sleep without ear plugs but i think i just got used to it after sleeping near someone snoring.

touching certain textures is fine I'm just mildly germaphobic so if i touch something that feeels like it has like, idk, germs??? but im not scared of getting sick??? idk microorganisms scare me even though i know theyre everywhere

i cant stand the smells of some masks which other people dont notice (like, the insides)

but there's some things im dull at tasting or smelling

motion sickness dude... my whole life dude. and travel lag for hours

feel pressured to act normal but sometimes i just wanna let go maybe its social anxiety

cant speak/can barely speak idk if its enough to count as nonverbal during mornings but its so hard

its hard to respond when so many things are going at once

bad sense of direction because its hard to remember locations because of so many things around at once

triggered when some random person touches me but i just have boundaries

i dont really stim unless im excited. i dont rock back and forth for self soothing, or maybe i do??? idk i move sideways sometimes. i cant sit still i think HAHHAA when i discovered it was a thing though, shaking things off is pretty neat ow my ankle jk

iii do get the urge to just verbalize random shit fidget in certain ways but i dont really do it

i mean i do fidget but when I'm nervous

i do mimic things and basically built my identity by chipping things off from characters since I've been so confused about who i really am and that's the most accessible way of expressing and experimenting about it

some synthetic sounds or just music honestly hurt my ears. i dont know why. these things arent being complained about by other people. it makes composing and appreciating music hard.

ive never really parroted things randomly when i was a kid i think or llike older or something. i guess i did when i was like 3 until yeah

i dont really relate to the special interests thing though. might be important to have. actually maybe its art, music, writing. but growing up ive been kinda a stubborn person who didn't really wanna learn from anyone and just did things on my own. butt once i realized i would greatly benefit from learning i cant stand a day where i dont learn or improve IM JUST A PERFECTIONIST MAYBE but i dont really talk about them thaaaat much i dont really talk about anything much i dont really have much to say unless people are asking me for information

Ive been considered weird by peers before. when i was in grade 1 i tried writing a book in a small tiny book. it was a self help book. and then my classmates wrote "you're crazy" in the pages and tHATS WHEN I LEARNED TO USE EMOTIONAL WARFARE AND CRY IN CLASS TO GET WHAT I WANT MOTHERFUCKER -

I've always been so confused about socializing and why people seemed to know more about it than me but i realized afterwards that it's really just an art, there's no hard and fast rules besides not truly being a douchebag, and people just do whatever

i guess another thing that could be considered a special interest is my unstoppable urge of asking people about themselves, I'm really curious about others but have no idea how to talk about myself lol (i mean its stoppable i dont wanna look weird but i do wanna prod people so much)

i really wanna learn more about psychoanalyzing people but i hate Sigmund Freuds work HAHAHAHAHA

if it was more accessible maybe id be more nerdy about i

reading books is hard man...

ARTIFICIAL/SYNTHETIC FLAVORS. ARTIFICIAL/SYNTHETIC SMELLS i cannot stress this enough. i cant stand the combination of chocolate and milk sometimes, i cant stand the taste of whey protein sometimes when it has chocolate and milk as its flavoring

i think this is neurotypical as well but my senses get dulled sometimes when im focused on something else then later when i break focus all the sounds return. i guess yeah that makes sense but like it feels like i dont even process them subconsciously the info just gets thrown away HAHAHAHA

cant sleep when something is touching my neck even if its just my clothigny

when im already affected by motion sickness all of my senses get worse i guess thats normal

are my talking patterns weird <- my thoughts almost always

on the flip side, despite my interest in people, there's also me not understanding people and fictional characters *some emotions or recognizing them until i read or watch analyses or meta posts (thats why I love them)

i mean getting diagnosed is incredibly terrible Because People Will Make Your Life Worse and judge you for it with stigmas but heyyy at least i can get an excuse from my family why i dont wanna eat those *specific* vegetables please i beg i feel bad for the veggies whenever i want to vomit them

so yeah since i cant get diagnosed might as well ask actual neurodivergent people on tumblr

maybe i should just blender them into a nice textureless juice if i want my fill NUTRIENTS BABY without the near vomit experience!

wonder if any neuro divergent peeps out there relate or if im neurotypical but i really just do have problems with textures and tastes

[0hcicero]

Rules: Tag 9 people you want to know better.

I was tagged by @roamingbadger :D It's been so long since I've been tagged in anything! Thanks babes!

Three ships: I am woefully not in massive shipping mode right now, and it's weird to ship characters from a book you're writing, so here are the ships I love in the shows I've watched recently - Ted/Rebecca (Ted Lasso), Gregory/Janine (Abbott Elementary), Rosaline/Benvolio (Still Star-Crossed) -- also, honourary mention to Perc'ahlia from the Legend of Vox Machina (because I've just finished watching the series) First ever ship: I feel like I'm going to date myself very badly here, but it was two ships, Eowyn/Faramir (obvs), and then uhhh in Smallville, Clark/Chloe. I'm pretty sure the first two fanfics I ever wrote (under a terrible pseudonym bc being 13 yrs old will do that to you) on fanfiction.net were Lord of the Rings. *grizzled Sam Elliot voice* Ahhh, the old days of the fanfiction wild west, when you couldn't tag for shit and 12 year olds were hunting twee little plot bunnies and announcing they didn't own characters, but had definitely taken them hostage to force them to kiss, just like their older sister's barbies.

Last Song: Round & Round by Common Tiger, Sir Bishop, Nathan -- It's kinda downtempo indie hiphop and it's been in my headphones a lot lately - it's got a great vibe for working and doing stuff and it's just delightful! Fully recommend. Last Film: Scream 5!!! It was SO GOOD GUYS! Total redemption from Scream 4, Solid script, great story, super funny, and amazing acting. It was done by the same guys who did Ready or Not, with Williamson as a producer, so you know the quips were great and also there was clearly big love for the franchise and for horror as a genre. The kills are brutal but not over-the-top gore, the soundtrack works so well, and the storytelling choices were clutch. It was a truly fantastic fucking film and it was everything I hoped it would be!

Currently watching: Ahhh I'm gonna show my whole nerd ass here, but Campaign 3 of Critical Role (Bell's Hells). I'm not currently obsessed with any scripted TV shows at the moment, so livestream dnd shows are really my jam right now - tons of great character development, hilarity, and a weirdly enticing format, which creates this sort of metadialogue between the actors at the table and the characters in the game. Also the use of mechanics and chance as part of the tools of storytelling is such a wild thing, and its crazy to see the Dice decide the nature of the story FOR YOU. I just find it all really fascinating, the stories fresh and interesting, and because they tend to be reaaaaally long and stretch over multiple years, they're incredibly well-developed and full of depth. And because of that, I will also plug Critical Role's animated TV show about their first campaign, The Legend of Vox Machina, which is an adult animated fantasy series, and its hilarious, doesn't take itself too seriously, is full of gags, gore, and is fairly raunchy at parts. It's fun! The music is great!! The animation is incredible, the fight scenes are golden, and the story is *italian chef's kiss* Season 1 is out on Amazon Prime!

Currently consuming: I'm gonna take a note out of @roamingbadger's playbook and go with food/drink here - Coffee with milk and sugar, and a slice of banana coconut coffee cake with espresso coconut glaze. I made it last night, this is the first slice, and dang, it's tasty!

Currently craving: dnd and writing...I'm kinda burnt out at the moment with work being truly crazy right now, so my original fiction fantasy novel that I'm working on is not getting the kind of attention I hoped it would, having taken a week off work for recouperation. I'm also building a dnd game world based on the worldbuilding I'm doing for this novel, which I also love a lot, and mostly I just crave spending time in this world I created and enjoying all the cool things about it, either running a game in it, or writing a story in it. For a writer, I think when I found dnd I stumbled into my personal crack den - story telling? as a game? with friends? and booze? and like fun little miniatures? YES PLEASE. Tagging (Totes ignore if its not your vibe): @mrbadwitch, @criticalrolo, @typicalbrunette, @wildnoutinwildemount, @quietstorm-thundathighs, @randomfandomteacher @nerdlove4thewin, @jessiecrimefighter, @imeeshuu

[m0e-ru]

Hi Hey Love you nd your art but what is your take on the relationship (not romantic but like, interaction wise/thought wise) of Nana-Chan and Mimi? I don't remember but have you done any scribbles of them?

Thank youuu 💕💕💕 and you can say relationship! Of course I'll regard it as platonic (english is weird).

You can look through my Nanako tag and see I've drawn her with Mim (considering I love to plug that cryptid into everything that coincides with my interests HA).

These two in particular being the clearest presentation of their relationship I've made so far: 1 2

I'll admit, either I haven't thought about these two interacting enough or I find their relationship hard to tackle considering both of their perspectives, I have...yet to properly solidify anything.

The one thing to remember about Nanako's perspective is that she initially found Mim, the attendant, to be "weird" or "scary."

Although the narration says Nanako's looking at bancho, it's clear that she's looking at the attendant. Her model even approaching bancho and looking up at him.

11:57 https://youtu.be/nOS7zw34dj0?t=717

Which she clarifies later on 3/20.

46:48 https://youtu.be/5Q0RABx5-5M?t=2808

That being said, au-wise, with Nanako warming up to Mim after hearing Souji talk about them, I think Mim would be afraid of Nanako.

A six (6) year old girl (she turns seven (7) in October) whose mother died recently, and with her father being busy as a detective, she's been left alone at home majority of the time until her cousin stays for the year. Being a child, she has nothing to suppress or hide from others to have her own Shadow. And her only desires are things as simple as loving her family and friends, keeping the company she already has, and yearning for her late mother which manifests in (albeit, shared) her TV studio in the world of the unconscious.

And a cryptic entity born of a collective unconscious, serving them as a deity and executing a plan to fulfill it. It's not as if they're meant to be remembered by anyone at all. They might as well be forgotten; imperceiveable, really. Slapping together a temporary identity just to shake hands with a few people. Why bother sealing the little gaps seeping out fog only perceptible to those they'll never meet again. First impressions? What about no impressions.

But there was an impression.

A guy twice a little girl's height does their best not to crumble in front of her, to say the least. Afraid of children being more perceptive knowing the truth better than those older than them and simply not being aware of it. Being piercingly blunt and honest as per their nature as individuals still learning about the world around them.

What if you were a decaying mass with a face you can't change bound to fulfill a duty that could end the lives with the same will that powers your existence, hiding under a myriad of physical and metaphorical layers. And you hear

"Oh, thank you!"

"Thanks for taking care of big bro."

"You're really pretty!"

"You really are big bro's big bro."

No, no, no. Go back to being afraid. Go back to never remembering.

It takes twice the effort to try and smile.

(more under cut where I'm less poetic and this is getting long lol)

sorry for getting poetic lol woww i love being dramatic /gets dragged off stage/

Mim can take compliments from anyone else which they could easily brush off. But from kids who probably aren't even aware of euphemisms yet Mim would probably die.

s: wow senpai youre really pretty for a guy

m: haha jk right whatever lol

n: mister attendant i think youre pretty

m: say sike rn

For clarification, yes Mim would still act in their attendant facade with Nanako but it takes twice the effort to be with her.

Having to swallow everything nice she has to say about them and keeping up the clown act to be consistent with everyone they meet.

It's hard to feel spite or plain heartlessness and 'i dont give a shit about what you think about me actually' bc Mim is growing their own heart after it unwillingly tore apart from them, while they gradually returning to the caretaker aspect of their whole being that they lost at the same time. So they care about a child's opinions taking them as how other people may actually think about them if they ever admitted it, especially the fact this same child is connected to so many people and Mim already knowing if this game they enabled keeps up, she's going to inevitably get caught up in it making them fully aware of her fate.

And as much as they already care about her, they aren't supposed to stop the game they started since they're bound to their duties that they begin to loathe, but also at the same time take personally since, at its core, it's meant to better the lives of the people they've grown about at an intimate level ever since they turned human themself and /shepherd's cane cartoonishly pulls me off stage for the second time/

Do you know how much guilt piles up on literally everyone associated with Nanako by November when shes kidnapped and hospitalized?¿

Out of everyone, Mim doesn't want Nanako to care about them the most. They don't want her to think that they, a monster formed by the cognition of the collective, is "pretty" or "nice" or "kind" or "funny." Mim cares about Nanako and they don't want her to go down that line of thinking and be betrayed by her beliefs based on how Mim presents themself.

But then again, it's already been a long while ever since they made "themself" different from "Izanami." So maybe Nanako's allowed to think that way.

[artificialqueens]

Me and You Together, 1/? (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: i honestly have begun this wip with glitter and jesus. i have no idea how many chapters it’s going to have or what exactly the plot is going to be…all i know is that it’s fwb (flatmates with benefits) to lovers taywhora with a background love triangle involving Ellie bc she’s my fav. pls enjoy and pls leave me love because i am a keyworker so really one comment = one 6pm clap xo

P.S. the Friday mentioned in this fic is the one A’whora’s obsessed with and was dancing to on her insta…not the popular Rebecca Black song. also 100 points to anyone who knows the song Lawrence and Ellie get excited about in the club.

content note: they’re freshers at uni in the UK and this country has a binge drinking problem xo. please don’t expect any of these girls to be acting responsibly. if you think you might be influenced by a fic talking about alcohol, smoking, sex and drugs, this might not be for you luv xo

**

December- Fell in love with her in stages

A year ago if you had asked A’whora what she was doing on a Tuesday night, the answer would’ve been mundane.

Homework, maybe, if she could be bothered. She could always copy it from Mocha in registration, after all. Making tiny outfits for Barbie dolls out of fabric scraps, very probably; she hadn’t stopped doing that just because she was older, the only difference from when she was nine was that she didn’t make her Barbies talk anymore. Invariably she’d stay up til’ well past her bedtime, earphones plugged in to her laptop and trying not to sing along to the playlist of dance music she’d spent a year cultivating. She’d poked fun at her Mum for still giving her a bedtime at the big age of eighteen, but she’d maintained that while her girl was living under her roof it would be bed by eleven on a weeknight and out no later than three on a weekend.

These rules, however, were quickly disposed of as soon as she’d got the keys to her uni flat. As soon as she’d found out her other flatmates were just as riotous and chaotic as she was and loved a night out just as much, her weeks had been filled with nights she’d never forget in bars she couldn’t remember, heads against speakers and sore feet from heels and ridiculous pre-drinks with even more ridiculous cocktails.

One such cocktail is the one her flatmate’s making for her now. Ellie doesn’t have any of the professional equipment a usual bartender would, but that doesn’t seem to stop her- the messy countertops are a treasure trove of obscure liqueurs and alcopops, and Ellie twirls a yellow-blonde curl around her finger before giving a gasp of satisfaction as her hand settles on a sticky green bottle.    

“One shot of apple soors, half a can of blue Monster, top up the rest with vodka,” she explains as she works with the various bottles and cans quickly, pouring into the pint glass they’d stolen from one of the pubs on a bar crawl during Freshers Week. She hands it to A’whora with a cheeky, mischievous grin on her painted face.

A’whora sniffs her glass and feels her nose wrinkle up involuntarily at the concoction her flatmate’s poured for her. “Els, if I drink that I’ll die.”

Ellie, to her credit, simply gives a snort of disapproval in response. Her pink acrylics click against the quarter bottle of vodka as she tightens the lid and replaces it in their freezer, all shiny and slick with frost. “Well if you are gonna take three hours to get ready then you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences of playing catch-up, babe.”

“Bitch,” A’whora jokes, rolling her eyes before sipping from her glass. The mixture makes her screw her face up so she takes another sip, then another until the weird sour-sweet-burn in her throat becomes more like a cocktail than cough syrup.

“Good, right?” Ellie prompts her, leaning against their kitchen counter proudly.

“No,” A’whora deadpans, causing her friend to burst out laughing. Then, realising something, she cocks her head. “Wait a second. What the fuck did you call the green drink?”

Ellie frowns. “Soors.”

“…Sourz?” A’whora says back to her, already giggling at the difference in dialects.

“Don’t play the pronunciation game with me, bitch.”

“Oh, I absolutely will when you’re just saying it wrong.”

“Lawrence!” Ellie shouts through to their other flatmate, sitting on the sofa and frowning at the bluetooth speaker as if it’s personally committed some crime against her. Ellie holds up the bottle as Lawrence snaps her head round, dark curls flying over her shoulder. “What’s this?”

“Liquidised heartburn,” she says instantly. A’whora snorts as Ellie rolls her eyes.

“Fuck’s sake. What’s it called?”

“Soors,” Lawrence shrugs back at her, and Ellie gestures triumphantly at A’whora who can only pout in reply.

“Listen, I can get Tia, Bims and Tayce through here and they’d all outnumber you, so. Shut it.”

“Yeah bet you’d love to get Tayce through here, A’whora,” Ellie smirks, raising both her eyebrows at her in an infuriatingly smug expression.

A’whora is clamped for a couple of reasons, the first being the God-awful nickname all her flatmates use against her. She’d managed to acquire it the first time they’d all played Never Have I Ever together and A’whora had drank for pretty much every situation or scenario presented to her. Before she’d known it, her very lovely, very Disney Princess-esque first name had been replaced by a pun that Bimini had come up with in the midst of their third rum and coke, and thus Aurora was dead and A’whora was born.  

The second reason for her silence is a result of the mention of one of the girls she’s living with. A’whora had never really expected to develop a crush on any of her flatmates, which had been a ridiculous thing to assume- given the fact she’s attracted to girls and was going to be living with other girls, the odds would dictate that at least one of them would be her type. Luckily, though, she hasn’t developed any feelings for any of them. At least, that’s the lie she’s telling herself, as the cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward.

Tayce is different to Ellie, Lawrence, Tia and Bimini, though. None of the others get A’whora so flustered when they speak to her, none of the other others get her heart racing so fast it threatens to fly out her ribcage. She doesn’t feel the same sense of dizzy joy when she’s alone with any of the others: only when Tayce makes dinner with her, or when she comes to her room at ten at night for chats, or when they play Tayce’s stupid video games together and she beats her way-too-many-consecutive-times in a row to be considered fair. A’whora has tried to explain it away as just wanting to be liked, just wanting to be good friends, just just just until she can’t justify her own excuses any more and has instead resigned herself to repressing the feelings she has for her friend. The tension between them is building, though, and it’s only a matter of time until something happens.

“BITCH!”

A’whora jumps a little, flinching as she realises she’s gone too long without a comeback. Ellie’s expression is expectant and impatient as she clicks her fingers once, twice, three times in her face.

“Shut up, Ellie-phant,” A’whora manages to mumble almost incoherently as she turns on her heel, walking through to the living room area to sit with Lawrence and join her on her quest to making their speakers work.

Their flat is an odd one. The front door leads to a prison cell-style line of equally pokey rooms- Lawrence’s, Tayce’s, A’whora’s, Bimini’s, Ellie’s and Tia’s respectively- and two bathrooms. Then another door opens out onto two hobs, endless cupboards and grimy, cluttered countertops, and a scrub of shitty green carpet and three worn out red-purple sofas that look as tired as Bimini does when they come home from a random afterparty just as A’whora leaves for lectures. It doesn’t in any way look like a normal flat, but A’whora supposes they’re about as far away from normal as a sentient slice of cheese.

“Oh babe, you must be crushing crushing. I don’t think I’ve heard you come out with a comeback as shit as that in the whole four months we’ve lived together,” Ellie continues the conversation, buzzing behind her like an annoying fly.

“It wasn’t shit, it was good!”

“Lawrie, what’s a good comeback to me calling A’whora a whore?” Ellie appeals to her friend again.

“Rich of you to be calling anyone a whore. You come from a long line of whores. You’re a whore, your maw’s a whore, your maw’s maw was a whore. There’s cave paintings of your ancestors wi’ twelve dicks in their mouths. There’s tapestries of them gettin’ shagged left, right an’ centre. There’s clay sculptures of them being whores. Pipe the fuck doon,” Lawrence reels off, Ellie growing more and more breathless with hysterical laughter beside her and A’whora falling into giggles too.

“Well this was a weird time for me to enter the conversation.”

A’whora feels her heart lift and her face light up when she turns around and sees Tayce walking through to join them, the posture of a model with her fingers curled elegantly around the stem of a wine glass. She flicks her long, dark hair over her shoulder as she sits down on the small sofa beside A’whora, and she wonders how Tayce can sit in a way that makes the stained, battered, scratchy upholstery seem like the set of a high fashion photoshoot.

“Just talking about you,” A’whora sticks her tongue out at her, laughing at the way Tayce reels in fake horror and Lawrence explodes with laughter across from them.

“The valour, the bravery and the backbone,” Tayce grumbles, rolling her eyes. Her gaze rests upon something behind A’whora- the back of the sofa. Maybe there’s a new rip in it, God knows how that can have happened. She holds back a gasp, though, when Tayce reaches out and runs a gentle finger down her spine against her bare skin; an advantage of the sparkly backless cowl neck top she’s wearing that she hadn’t known existed until now. “Speaking of backbones, you’re such a skinny minnie.”

“Did you go to the school of backhanded compliments?” A’whora teases, deflecting from the way her heart’s still thrumming in her chest at the contact.

“Shush, you. You know you look bloody gorgeous,” Tayce says back to her, and even though there’s a laugh to her voice A’whora knows she means it. Her heart’s still going like a train but she can chalk that up to the half can of Monster Ellie’s dumped into her drink, so when she mutters out a thanks hun, same to you she hopes it doesn’t sound as insincere as it feels.

The thing is, she does look gorgeous. She’s dressed in a black lace bodysuit with straps that criss-cross up the back and a tight leather skirt that makes her legs look even longer than they already are. She’s opted for heels like A’whora has (unlike Ellie and Lawrence who have designated night-out trainers stained with spillages of drinks gone by) but hers have straps that are laced all the way round her calves and tied with a knot at the top. Everything about her outfit makes everything about her look outrageously good, and A’whora thinks it should be illegal for anyone to be this ethereal.

Tayce looks as if she’s about to fire something back at her judging by the little smile on her face but she’s interrupted by an outrageously loud boom from the speakers, as something that could be Lady Gaga but is too deafening to be deciphered screams through it. As the girls all flinch there’s a frantic diminuendo that comes from Lawrence mashing the volume button until the pitch is finally bearable and they can all take their hands off their ears.

“Lawrence, did you get the speakers working?” Ellie quips sarcastically, to which Tayce and A’whora burst out laughing and Lawrence almost elbows Ellie off the sofa opposite.

In the melee A’whora almost doesn’t notice Bimini and Tia come in, and they look ready to start the night if a little panicked.

“What the hell was that?” Tia asks quickly, opening the fridge and grabbing her bottle of premixed Malibu and pineapple before perching herself on the couch beside Ellie. “I thought part of the building had exploded.”

“Nah that was just my vagina, babes,” Lawrence says offhandedly, the others either screeching with laughter or groaning in anguish. Bimini crosses the room with their selection of drinks cradled in their arms and budges Tayce and A’whora up with an oi, oi!, A'whora’s pulse thudding at her wrist as a result of her close proximity to her crush.

No- her friend. Her friend who’s never going to be anything more than that.

With the six flatmates assembled, drinks poured, and tunes on, their pre drinks can begin. Pres at their flat often look like drinking games, yelling along to early 2010s pop, tipsily booking taxis and then touching up their makeup in the waiting time before they arrive. Tonight is no different; they bicker about where they want to go and eventually decide on the union because although it’s “too het” according to Ellie, it’s admittedly cheap and a good night out. A’whora chips into the conversation every five minutes with shady, catty jokes that Tayce howls at and leans into her side and clutches her arm or her hand or her thigh.

The contact is nice. They’ve reached that stage of their friendship where they’re touchy and close a lot of the time- A’whora’s constantly playing with Tayce’s hair and Tayce thinks nothing of just walking into A’whora’s room and getting under the duvet with her. They throw their arms around each other and bump shoulders as they walk and touch legs on the sofa, much like they’re doing now. A’whora has never been a cuddly type of friend- to be honest, she still isn’t- but there’s something about doing all this with Tayce that she doesn’t mind. It’s a comfortable kind of intimacy, a knitted blanket of sorts, but it’s a fragile space for Tayce to occupy too and A’whora knows it’s risky to let her rip a wall down she’s never been aware of til now.

The night rolls along and with every refill of A’whora’s glass the music gets turned up a little more, a little more, a little more until they’re all having to yell over each other as they play wiggly wiggly woo, who’s most likely to. It’s all fun and games until it gets to who’s most likely to sleep with a flatmate, and there’s a confusing mess of finger-pointing where Lawrence points to Ellie, Tayce points to Lawrence, and Bimini, Ellie and Tia point to A’whora.

“Fuck off, why’s it me?” she screeches in outrage, trying to cover up the fact her cheeks are burning and that Tayce seems suddenly all too close to her.

“Because! It’s you! It’s A’whora!” Bimini laughs, their accent making them seem all the more mischievous and shit-stirring.

“Well! If I’m sleeping with a flatmate that must mean one of you’s gonna be involved, doesn’t it?!”

“Right, sorry, yeah,” Bimini nods understandingly, before immediately switching to point to Tayce. There’s an arena-crowd roar that erupts from the others, one that makes A’whora laugh and blush scarlet at the same time. She sneaks a look at Tayce, who’s regarding her with much the same expression.

“I’m down if you are, hun,” A’whora jokes-but-not-really, shaking Tayce’s arm as if it’ll take away from the weak joke she’s trying to make. Tayce only shoots her a wink with her tongue trapped between her teeth.

“In your dreams, love.”

A’whora’s glad of the others laughing so she can pretend to join in, occupy herself with something other than the overwhelming urge to reply to Tayce with exactly.

The rest of pres fly by tipsily and incoherently. They get a noise complaint from the weird flat underneath them which seems solely comprised of six boys who never go outside, which prompts them to book taxis even though the union is only about a ten minute walk away. A’whora helps Tia re-glue on her eyelashes in a rush and Bimini spontaneously fills a hipflask with Ellie’s apple sourz, “for the road”. When the taxis roll up outside Lawrence hurries them all out the door with the urgency of a mother of five, and before long they’re standing in a queue around the block, Bimini and A’whora sharing Tia’s huge puffer jacket because neither of them thought to pick up coats in their haste to leave.

Tayce pulls a packet of cigarettes out of her pocket, flips the little cardboard lid of them open and offers them round to the others. A’whora takes one because Tayce is offering, and really Tayce could offer them grenades with the pins pulled out and A’whora would accept if only to get her smile flashed at her again or the chance that their hands might touch during the transfer. A’whora thinks Tayce is every public health campaign’s worst nightmare as she watches her hold the cigarette between her index and middle fingers, wrap her lips around the end and inhale. Her cheekbones are razor-sharp as she drags then lets the breath go, red lipstick on the paper and the smoke curling up into the sparkly, dark night sky.

She is beautiful.

It’s because she’s beautiful that A’whora shouldn’t be surprised by the events that begin to unfold as they enter the club. Ellie immediately makes her way over to a booth, picks up the little sign that says it’s reserved and chucks it onto the dancefloor to get trampled underfoot and covered in sticky cocktail spillages. Tayce’s round is first because she lost Ring of Fire back at the flat so she goes over to the bar for shots, promising she’ll be only a couple of minutes and the others believing her; the way she looks ensures she never has a long wait time at the bar.

So they wait. And they wait. At first they don’t even notice how long they’ve waited- the tunes are good and loud and so they all yell along happily. Until Lawrence turns to the others with narrowed eyes.

“Here. Where the fuck is Tayce? She’s been ages.”

They all scan the bar, and Ellie suddenly points dramatically over to the other end of it. “Oh!”

Because Tayce is standing at the bar with no drinks and no interest in any of the bartenders taking drinks orders. She’s talking to a tall blonde with a dazzling smile and a low-cut crop top, and something inside A’whora burns and sinks at the same time. Tayce is allowed to be talking to a pretty girl. She’s not not allowed to. But it doesn’t make her any less jealous of the attention she’s giving her.

It’s a horror movie she can’t look away from. She’s aware that Ellie has gone to get the drinks instead, but that’s all she can absorb from her surroundings. She tunes out of the conversation at the table as she continues to watch the two of them interact. The girl’s got muscles, and her hair falls in neat waves on her shoulders, and she’s smiley and charming and doesn’t talk much, preferring instead to listen to Tayce. A’whora is different. A’whora is constantly on transmit; loud and opinionated and gobby and, okay, sometimes a little bit judgemental. She can’t do charming and demure. She can’t be what Tayce is very clearly interested in.

A thud next to her causes A’whora to whip her head round, tearing herself away from the scene playing out in front of her and ripping the plaster off.

“Fuck’s sake. Jaegerbombs with Red Bull? Puh-rison!” Ellie half-whines, half-shouts.

“Red Bull is the standard, not everyone can have the same taste in energy drinks as a sixteen year old virgin gamer,” A’whora narrows her eyes, gratefully accepting the drink from her nonetheless and shotting it back as if it’ll help blind her, or perhaps forget what she’s seeing.

“God. Who pissed in your coco pops?” Ellie fires back, rolling her eyes dramatically.

“Bold of you to assume anything specific has happened to make her this bitter, mean and salty,” Tia jokes from A’whora’s side, and as the others scream and laugh A’whora in turn fixes her with a glare, wishing momentarily she had laser beams for pupils.

“Ooh, that’s made me want a tequila,” Lawrence cries enthusiastically, too loud even from the other side of the booth.

“Eh, excuse me! I just got you a Jaegerbomb, finish that first,” Ellie chastises her like a world-weary parent, pushing the glass towards her friend and sliding her hand over the table, sticky with the ghosts of questionable drinks’ past. A’whora has to snort at her tone.

“Yeah Lawrence, finish your Jaegerbomb or you won’t get any dessert. Listen to your responsible Mum whose eyelash is coming off.”

A big roar of laughter flies up from the others, and it’s Ellie’s turn to glare at A’whora this time. She looks as if she’s about to say something back when Bimini sniffs their glass and frowns.

“Is Jaegerbombs vegan?”

Everyone apparently wishes to ignore the lack of grammatical sense to their sentence, and it’s Lawrence who responds first. “They’re vegan in the same sense that bleach is vegan?”

Bewilderingly satisfied, Bimini raises their glass to the middle of the table and the girls join them, cheering as they all clink them together and chuck the drinks back. The fact A’whora can’t join in leaves her eyes to fall on Tayce and that girl again. Tayce is smiling and it’s the brightest thing in the club, laughing as the girl flips her hair and touches her hand and tells some joke that’s obviously not as funny as anything A’whora could say. She wonders if she’s ever made Tayce smile like that. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but she can’t remember.

“You know they used to use Jaeger as cough medicine? And for ages it was drunk by, like…old Tories who went on deer hunts,” Tia reels off excitably, and A’whora can’t help but roll her eyes affectionately at her friend’s bizarre general knowledge. “There’s this rumour that it’s got deer’s blood in it.”

Bimini splutters, coughs, and chokes all at once. As Lawrence slaps their back entirely too roughly in a way that’s about as helpful as a water gun at a house fire, A’whora can’t help but turn to face Tia incredulously.

“What the fuck did you say that for?!”

Tia shrugs, too tipsy to register A’whora’s disbelief. “Fun fact.”

“You didn’t think to pipe up with that when Bims was asking if it was vegan?”

“It’s just a rumour!” Tia says defensively, then turns to Bimini to check they’re okay. A’whora huffs in exasperation, folding her arms and throwing her back against the supposedly cushioned walls of the booth. As she stares straight ahead and ignores the fuss her friends are making, her eyes fall on Tayce again and her heart hurts more than it should to see her with her phone out and the girl beside her doing the same. They’re so clearly swapping numbers. They’re allowed to swap numbers. It’s not like A’whora’s got dibs on Tayce, it’s not like she’s got any right to feel a burn in her stomach and a flame in her heart and a feeling of something slipping away.

“Right!” Lawrence all but yells, forcing A’whora to tear her eyes away. “I’ve finished my Jaegerbomb, Mum, can we get tequila now?”

Ellie sighs. “Fine! But you’re buying me this one, bitch.”

“I’ll come with,” A’whora says, thinking she’ll need at least ten more units of alcohol to stop feeling feelings.  

“We’re going for a boogie, catch us up,” Bimini decides, as Rhythm is a Dancer blasts on the overhead speakers and Tia lets out a whooo! that’s way too white for a mixed-race girl.

So they move, A’whora bum-shuffling her way out of the booth and following Lawrence and Ellie, her feet sore in her heels. She purposefully blocks Tayce out of her peripheral vision as she leans against the bar, but she’s only separated from her by about six people also waiting and if she tilted her head forward she could definitely catch her eye if she wanted.

“Rhythm is a dancer, two for one at Asda,” Ellie sings along, bopping her head enthusiastically. A’whora laughs weakly, her proximity to Tayce and that bitch she’s talking to entirely too distracting.

“Shut your hole and tell me what you’re wanting,” Lawrence orders her. Ellie drums the palms of her hands against the bar as she semi-shouts sambucaaaaa, and A’whora asks for a vodka. She’s aware she’s mixing entirely too many spirits and her hangover tomorrow will be potentially life-threatening, but she doesn’t care.

“Tayce is still there. Should we shout her over and see what she wants?” Ellie suggests, craning her neck. A’whora firmly shakes her head.

“She’s wanting that baby Hulk she’s been talking to all night, apparently,” she all but spits, shocking herself at her venom. It’s clear she shocks the girls as well, and Lawrence turns around and simply raises her eyebrows at her.

“Men’s dress trousers in a hotel.”

A’whora can only blink. “What?”

Lawrence pauses for dramatic effect (or perhaps that’s just the Jaegerbomb making its alcohol content known). She points a finger at A’whora, then finishes whatever point she’s making. “Pressed.”

“Purrr!” Ellie laughs in agreement, grabbing A’whora’s shoulder and shaking it in an action that’s probably meant to be gentle but almost shakes her bone out of its socket. “Oh my God, that totally explains why you’ve been such a bitch all night.”

“This wee cow’s been a bitch her whole life,” Lawrence joins in. A’whora knows she’s got a proper face on by now, Dot Cotton licking piss off a nettle, but she can’t help it. She hates being wound up and she makes this perfectly clear to her friends via her furious silence.

“Nah, but tonight she’s a jealous bitch,” Ellie sticks her tongue out at her, and A’whora huffs.

“I’m not jealous!” she lies. “I’m just pissed off that she comes on a night out with us and she spends it talking to some random bitch she barely knows instead of her friends.”

“Wait. Oh my God, do you fancy Tayce?” Lawrence asks, a bull in a china shop on cocaine. Before A’whora can defend herself Ellie barks a laugh.

“Aw Lauzza, come on to fuck! Have you ever walked in when it’s been just the two of them? They’re so fucking flirty it’s disgusting.”

“DISGUSTEN!” Lawrence shouts, and it goes about ten percent of the way to drawing A’whora out of her mood.

“I don’t flirt with Tayce! I don’t fancy her either!” A’whora cries, exasperated. She realises too-late that her volume may have been too loud, but when she looks over at the topic of conversation again she’s both disappointed and relieved to see that she hasn’t registered a thing. “Anyway, you know you can’t shag your flatmate. It’s like the first rule of having flatmates. It would just make everything awkward.”  

“That the only thing stopping you?” Lawrence looks at her pointedly.  

“The bartender’s free,” A’whora glances just over Lawrence’s shoulder, and she turns around so fast it almost makes her feel dizzy. While Lawrence orders it leaves Ellie to turn to A’whora and pat her hand sympathetically.

“Why don’t you just go up to her?” she suggests. “I mean would it be so bad if you did just shag and get the pent-up tension released and then you can both just move on? I mean it’s not like you want to be her girlfriend or anything.”

A’whora presses her lips together and doesn’t reply. Her silence seems to communicate too much as Ellie’s mouth drops open a little and she fixes her with a pointed stare. “Oh, A’whora.”

“Look, I don’t know,” A’whora rushes to defend herself, her words spilling out over themselves in the way they sometimes do when she’s tipsy. “Like obviously she’s gorgeous but also, like…I do like her as a person as well, and I like being around her and just enjoying her company-”

Ellie splutters a giggle. “Enjoying her company, are you eighty years old in a care home?”

“I’m gonna slap you in a minute, shut up!” A’whora laughs incredulously. “But, like, I just…I don’t know if she likes me back like that, you know?

Ellie frowns. “I think, then, my advice would be…don’t shag her if you don’t think you can keep it to just that. ‘Cause obviously you don’t want to end up getting hurt.”

“Right, yeah,” A’whora replies, nodding.

If she’s honest, she’s disappointed. Obviously she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to sleep with Tayce- because fucking look at her- but just like Ellie said, she knows she would end up getting hurt if anything happened between them. Tayce would probably consider it a one-time thing and A’whora would be let down, or it would turn into some long, drawn-out friends with benefits scenario that would probably make everything worse.

The thing is she can only repress her feelings so much and tonight she’s feeling like one of Ellie’s cans of Monster that Tia shook up as a joke and ended up spurting out its contents so violently that there’s still a green-blue stain on their kitchen wall. A’whora’s way too close to telling the girls about every time she’s pictured her and Tayce falling asleep together and waking up together, every time she’s imagined them planning actual dates, every time she’s wanted to kiss her on the sofa- not necessarily even a kiss kiss but just a peck on the cheek, a soft one pressed to the crown of her head, a little one against their knuckles as they hold hands.

It all sounds ridiculous and silly and way too high school. Nothing seems to work the same at uni. Everyone just seems to shag, hook up, kiss strangers they’ll never see again in the shadows of grimy clubs. Everything seems to happen when everyone’s drunk. Everything’s done out of lust rather than love. Everything is so short-term because you can’t plan for the long term if you wake up and don’t remember the night before.

A’whora loves uni, but she doesn’t like that.

Besides, she’s already done all that in high school anyway. Sixth form had been like a crash course in freshers’ week; if she wasn’t drinking in parks or going to house parties she was sneaking into nightclubs using a fake ID that even Stevie Wonder could’ve seen right through. She’d half-heartedly slept with boys and figured out she liked girls when a sleepover after a party took a turn. She’d tried smoking and she came to the conclusion that she didn’t like it enough to buy her own cigarettes, she’d tried mandy once and that was once too much for her. All of that has prepared her well for uni- she’s street smart and has her head screwed on (for the most part- she’s still testing her limits as far as alcohol’s concerned). But feeling like she’s feeling for Tayce is uncharted territory, and out of everything she’s already done and experienced A’whora finds it hard to believe there’s not an age limit on this sort of thing because it all feels more risky and dangerous than smoking roll-ups in a children’s playpark at one in the morning ever did.

A wayheyyy! from Lawrence cuts through her thoughts and she accepts the shot she’s holding out to her, wordlessly clinking it together with Lawrence’s and Ellie’s and slamming it back as if it’s some form of medicine she desperately needs.

“It’s so weird that you don’t do the whole lime and salt thing,” Ellie wrinkles her nose at her friend, who in turn punches one of her own tits with what seems to be pride.

“‘Cause I’m made of strong stuff, babes. Right, what’s the conclusion on this one? Does she fancy Tayce or no?”

“Surely this is a bathroom stall conversation?” A’whora pouts, annoyed that her feelings for Tayce have been brought back up.

As Ellie relays to Lawrence what she’d said to A’whora, A’whora momentarily wonders if she’s in control of anything in her life any more.

Lawrence nods when Ellie’s done. “Smart advice. ‘Cause it would make things awkward for the flat. ‘Magine trying to make a Pot Noodle in the middle of a live-action episode of Eastenders.”

A’whora screws her face up in confusion. “All episodes of Eastenders are live action?”

“Y’know what the fuck I mean,” Lawrence rolls her eyes in exasperation. “Well we’ve given you our blessing and basically we represent the whole country, so. Go for it.”

“Thanks, Nicola Sturgeon, good to know I have your approval,” A’whora smirks at her, amused. When some Becky Hill song comes on over the speakers she takes it as her cue to smooth down her skirt, flip her hair over her shoulder and rest her little shot glass back on the bar. “Right, we going to have a dance or what?”

As she takes her friends’ hands they all but strut over to the dancefloor, and A’whora can see Bimini and Tia pulling shapes that they probably think make them look mysterious and sexy but actually just make them look as drunk as they no doubt are. Before A’whora can push through the crowd, Lawrence tugs her and Ellie back a bit.

“Here, I think I’ve remembered something Tayce told me once, if this is of any use to you?” she begins.

All of A’whora’s nerve endings light up like one of those colourful optical fiber lamps she had when she was small. Her eyes have clearly flown open and her mouth’s dropped slack without her even having to try, so desperate is she for what Lawrence is about to tell her. Ellie’s beside her equally expectant and anticipative, and Lawrence laughs at the pair of them before she continues.

“It was the pair of us and Tia…Christ, when was it…cannae mind. Think you’d gone home for the weekend and Ellie was doing something wi’ Bims…anyway, coupla’ bottles of wine in and we start playing wee stupid games. We’re doing snog, marry, avoid and Tia gives her…fuck, cannae even remember. Let’s say it was Ellie, Bimini and you. Now I can’t remember what she said for the other two but…” Lawrence pauses dramatically, and A’whora is a hair’s breadth away from practically begging her for the information she’s taking so long to impart. “…she said she would marry you because then she’d get to shag you more than just once.”

A’whora doesn’t think her eyes can go any wider but she somehow manages it. She doesn’t really know how to react but Ellie’s doing enough screaming to suffice for the two of them.

“When the fuck were you gonna tell us that?! Fuck, I can’t believe you never told me that! When did this happen?!” Ellie practically screeches in her face.

“Telt you I cannae mind! Maybe like…a month ago? I don’t know,” Lawrence supplies unhelpfully. Usually A’whora would try to rip the piss out of the way her accent’s gone ten times more Braveheart than usual after her series of drinks, but all she can think about is what she’s been told and, well…she can’t help the butterflies in her heart and the way a satisfied, triumphant grin spreads slowly onto her face.

Ellie’s equally as excited beside her. She whacks A’whora on the arm as she squeals with enthusiasm. “See! Now we know she likes you too!”

A’whora feels as if she’s made of glitter and confetti as she spins around in the direction of the bar. Her heart gives a dip on its rollercoaster of emotions as she sees that Tayce has somehow caught the attention of a different girl- long, dark hair and a blue and orange outfit and a mouth that’s moving at about a mile a minute.

There’s a second before A’whora makes to turn away in disappointment when Tayce’s pupils suddenly flick over to rest on her. Tayce’s self-assured expression and body language seem to falter when she catches A’whora’s eye, and she shoots her a little smile that- if A’whora didn’t know the girl better- she’d say was shy.

“Now the challenge is actually getting a chance to talk to her,” A’whora pouts. Chatting up Tayce and maybe getting to fall into bed with her really isn’t a time-sensitive issue; it doesn’t need to happen tonight, but A’whora’s had a chaotic combination of alcohol that makes her think there’s really no time like the present and hey, maybe this is her one and only chance.

“Well, we can keep an eye on her and when she’s free, then that’s your chance,” Ellie smiles, supportive and excited.

“What chat-up line are you gonnae use? I’ve got a cracker you can have if you want,” Lawrence insists, and A’whora and Ellie share a doubtful look.

“Go on.”

“What did one haggis say to the other haggis?” Lawrence begins. Without giving the other girls a chance to interject, she finishes. “…’Gonnae shaggis?’ ”

“And on that note,” Ellie shakes her head and rolls her eyes, taking both of them by the hand and pulling them into the crowd to join their other friends.

It’s amazing how easy it is to forget about the object of her affection chatting to random girls on the other side of the room when Bimini’s grabbing her and almost launching her across the dancefloor with their euphoric pogo-ing along to each and every song that gets played. The five of them drunkenly bum-ba-ba, bum-ba-ba along to Head & Heart and cheer for Tia when she does Nicki’s rap in Swalla without even stopping for breath. A’whora laughs in confusion with the other girls as Lawrence and Ellie get way too excited, squealing and clutching each others’ hands when some clubland tune that’s apparently much bigger in Scotland than it is in the other three corners of the UK gets put on, the lyrics of which seem to consist solely of the words up-up-up and awayyy. Bimini and Lawrence collect more drinks from the bar and A’whora very nearly knocks Ellie’s out of her hand when Friday comes on and she punches the air.

And then Tayce is on her own.

A’whora’s heart almost siezes up with how fast it jolts into full-blown palpitations because this is the moment she can finally go over and talk to her, the chance to turn their friendship into maybe something more even if that something more is only a random hookup after a night out, but it only takes the time for her to shake Ellie’s arm and point in Tayce’s direction for her to see that, yet again, she’s been approached by someone tall and confident and stunning and everything that A’whora wishes Tayce thought about her.

Her face falls and Ellie snaps her fingers in her line of vision, forcing her to look at her and the motherly expression of tough love she’s wearing.

“Hey. When has anyone ever stopped you getting your own way?” she yells at her over the music, and A’whora laughs half in amusement and half in agreement. As she falls silent, Ellie jerks her head towards the bar. “Go get her, bitch.”

It might be the alcohol, but it hits A’whora with a ironically sobering clarity that Ellie’s right.

So she takes a breath in and struts confidently over to the bar, practically able to feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins (although that could well be the caffeine from the second Jaegerbomb she’s downed this evening with Bimini’s encouragement). She smooths down her skirt so the split runs up the front of her thigh and not the side, adjusts the neck of her top so it’s framing her chest the way she wants it to. She could be nervous but the combined alcohol she’s drunk so far this evening pushes that feeling to the back of her head, replacing it with all-consuming confidence that she can feel from the inside out. She looks good, better than good, and she knows she can flirt even though she’s never really tried to flirt with Tayce. Well, never intentionally.

Okay, that’s maybe a lie.

The realisation that she’s actually going through with this is enough to make her want to freeze to the spot but by some miracle she’s still walking forward until she’s three, two, one steps away from her flatmate and the girl at the bar with too much plastic surgery and hair the shade of a vomit-coloured highlighter pen. A’whora wedges her shoulder in between the pair of them, hears the girl give a little tut/sigh hybrid from behind her but A’whora’s not really interested in bickering with her, not when Tayce’s eyes have fallen on her and she’s looking at her, really looking at her with a little playful smile on her painted lips.

“Hey baby boo,” Tayce says by way of a greeting, and A’whora feels her heart melt just a little. She’s being adorable, but she’s not going to let that damage her confident, composed exterior. Until Tayce follows up by running a hand down her arm and lacing their fingers together. “I haven’t seen you all night, I missed you.”

With that, A’whora feels the little cocky smirk she’s wearing break out into a shy grin, one that she hopes doesn’t look as ridiculously goofy as it feels. “Well. Maybe you would’ve seen more of me if you hadn’t been playing Take Me Out with half the bloody girls in here.”

“Who, me?” Tayce gasps, clutching the gold chain around her neck and pretending to be affronted. A’whora doesn’t mean to roll her eyes but she clearly does, and the small giggle she draws out of Tayce as a result makes it almost worth it. The squeeze Tayce gives her hand turns that almost into a definitely, as does what Tayce follows up with. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, you know.”

“You’re cute…all the time,” A’whora claps back, wishing she had some sort of drink in her hand to press against her face as she feels her blush start to bloom across her cheeks.

“I know, babe, that’s why I’ve been getting my drinks bought for me all night,” Tayce winks.

If Awhora uses that as a signal to pull her bank card from her bra, that’s nobody’s business but her own. The way Tayce’s gaze flicks to her chest lights a match in her heart. “Well…let me buy you one and then you won’t have to miss me so much.”

Tayce’s awed smile spreads slowly onto her face and they agree on tequila shots, the phase of the evening where they were nursing their drinks left firmly in the dust as the bartender hands them a salt shaker, two little shot glasses and two wedges of lime. The way Tayce’s tongue slides over the side of her hand before she sprinkles the salt and the way their eyes meet as she licks it up makes A’whora’s mouth dry, so the tequila’s welcome for a split second before she remembers why she hates it, the flavour and sheer strength of the alcohol akin to being hit by a truck.  

As she grabs desperately for the lime like it’s an oxygen mask on a crash-landing plane, Tayce laughs and shakes her head pityingly. “You always end up ordering tequila and you always, always hate it.”

A’whora blinks as she composes herself, gives a little shiver of recovery. She cocks her head at Tayce inquisitively. “I didn’t know you remembered that.”

Tayce looks to the ground as she smiles, tucks a piece of her long hair behind her ear. It’s endearing and soft and it makes A’whora panic, so she presses her lips together and raises an eyebrow at Tayce questioningly. “So, how’d your little episode of Blind Date go anyway?“

"Gosh, you’re really pressed about this, aren’t you?” Tayce’s eyes are narrow as she smirks at her, and now it’s A'whora’s turn to look embarrassed. The soft laugh Tayce gives is reassuring so A'whora’s gaze drifts back up again and their eyes meet as she speaks again. “Well, there was, uh…blonde lady. Blonde lady with the muscles and the eyeliner. God, what was her name?”

“This is off to a flying start.”

“Kameron!” Tayce yells in her face as she remembers. It makes A’whora snort with laughter, something that’s probably wildly unattractive but she knows Tayce has seen her do it before. “And then there was, uh, Priyanka. I remember her name because she kept telling me every two minutes. That was a wild conversation.”

“Uh-huh. Who was the bitch I elbowed out the way?”

Tayce smirks at her, wobbles a little in her heels and steadies herself against the bar. “That was…Detox.”

“Radox?”

Tayce splutters. “Detox!”

“Should’ve called herself Botox, would’ve been nearer to the mark,” A’whora turns up her top lip. Tayce explodes in an outraged laugh beside her, clutches her wrist in a way that makes A’whora hope she won’t be able to feel her rapid pulse.

“Says Aurora Georgia Boyle, who asked for lip fillers for her eighteenth and was actually allowed to get them!”

“Don’t full name me, piece of shit!” A’whora gasps in mock-offence, shakes herself away from Tayce’s grip but finds her inexplicably nearer to her than she was before. She’s not necessarily complaining, though, because her whole left side is against Tayce’s right and there’s some form of other-worldly magnetism that seems to keep them pressed together. It makes her heart flutter so she tucks a section of hair behind her ear before she frowns. “I never told you that. How come you know that?”

“You did tell me! Back in freshers week! You just don’t remember,” Tayce giggles, poking her cheek with one acrylic nail. It should hurt more than it does. Maybe it does hurt and A’whora can’t feel it. She’s had a lot to drink.

It’s the alcohol she blames when she hooks an arm around Tayce’s waist, tilts her head and drops her volume to a murmur. “You seem to remember a lot of things about me.”

Tayce’s eyes widen just that little bit. “Well you’re a bit of an unforgettable person, really.”

Her words make A’whora’s heart light up so much that she can feel herself glowing from the inside out. She brings her other arm around Tayce in a tight hug, her hands joining at the small of her back, and Tayce mirrors her so they’re both anchoring each other. It’s hard for her to remember whether they’ve ever shared a hug like this before. It seems too intimate for friends, but A’whora doesn’t mind.

“Tayce.”

“Rory,” Tayce replies, mimicking her whine and the way she draws her name out. A’whora likes the nickname she gives her probably more than she should; she supposes it’s because only Tayce uses it and because it’s rooted in her actual given name.

A’whora pouts, squeezes Tayce’s waist. “I missed you tonight, you know.”

“Missed you too. Missed you so much,” Tayce murmurs back.

She’s already said it, A’whora knows she’s already said it, but with the way they’re both gazing at each other it seems to mean something more, something different. It’s ridiculous- they’re both drunk, and famously no good decisions have ever happened when two people have had this many assorted shots, but somehow it feels like all of this is just right.  

A’whora drops her head to rest it on Tayce’s shoulder and she feels her arms tighten around her in response. Her lips graze her neck as she murmurs against it. “Not leaving me again.”

There’s a pause where she can’t really see Tayce’s expression or how she’s reacted. Her heart freezes, and the terror and reality of having crossed the line between friendship and whatever the hell this is suddenly consumes her whole body. She’s relieved, then, when Tayce eventually mutters against the crown of her head.

“All yours, baby.”

And she presses a kiss to her hair. Just like A’whora’s been dreaming about for so long.

She feels giddy and dizzy with absolute euphoria, so it’s that she blames when she puts her lips against Tayce’s neck again and plants one, two, three little kisses there in quick succession.

“Tayce,” she whispers again. She doesn’t really know what she wants to say or how to say it, but she knows she doesn’t want to go back to the dancefloor, and she doesn’t want to be with their other friends. She just wants her and Tayce together for however long she’ll let it be that way, and she doesn’t even care about the busy bar or the drunk students that bump into them every so often or the stares from the rowdy group of rugby lads that would usually make her feel intimidated, but not when she’s with Tayce.

When she’s with Tayce everything seems a little bit better somehow, just by her being there.

So maybe it’s that, or maybe it’s the tequila, or maybe it’s the feeling of having Tayce’s arms around her that makes A’whora tilt her head back up again and meet Tayce’s waiting lips with her own. There’s none of the usual hesitation or awkward pause that comes with kissing someone new because really the amount of times A’whora’s imagined this, dreamt about it, thought about it in daydreams that completely unhook her from reality, it’s as if it’s happened before.

Nothing has prepared her for the real thing though. How Tayce brings a hand up to rest at her jaw and how the other stays placed against the bare skin of her back, warm and supportive. How the both of them sway a little, unsteady in their heels as if they’ve been knocked for six. How Tayce’s body is close against hers and A’whora pushes a hand in her hair in an attempt to somehow bring her even closer. How kissing Tayce leaves her breathtaken and satisfied yet somehow amplifies her feeling of longing, because the more she gives to her the more A’whora wants and with every second that Tayce’s lips are on hers she can only feel the heat that’s pooling in her stomach growing more and more intense.

When Tayce pulls away and A’whora can only catch her breath, she fixes her with a lazy, half-lidded smile that makes her insides turn to melted honey.

“That was nice,” she blinks, and she’s a second away from kicking herself- because, really?- when Tayce giggles softly under her breath. She brushes a little piece of A’whora’s hair off her face, and the gentleness of the action throws her a little. A’whora brings her arms up to loop around her neck, and she leans in close again. “I wanna do it again.”

“I want to do…a lot of things. With you,” Tayce says, casual and chill as if her words haven’t just sent A’whora up in flames.

“Like…?”

“Like…maybe come back to mine and I’ll show you, baby.”

The whole moment’s perfect enough for A’whora to almost overlook the blunder Tayce has just made, but her nature dictates that she can’t let her get away with it. “We…we live together.”

Tayce lets out a snort, bumps her forehead against A’whora’s as she despairs of herself. “Right. Well…we gonna go home, then?”

A’whora doesn’t need to be asked twice. She laces her fingers in Tayce’s, resolves to text the others to tell them they’ve left, and stumbles towards the exit with her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

When she blinks, she’s tired, she’s in bed, it’s bright, and she’s confused as all hell.

The headache hits her like a sledgehammer to the face and she blinks slowly and heavily, adjusting herself to her surroundings. She’s in her own room, she can tell that much from the photos of her and her friends from back home on the cupboard and the fairy lights on her desk that aren’t switched on. Her mouth feels like a badger’s shat in it and her eyes are all achey, and as she throws an arm up to rub at them she’s surprised when she doesn’t see any leftover eye makeup on the back of her hand.

“The kraken awakes.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” A’whora flinches, her head whipping over to the foot of her bed to find Tayce sitting cross-legged leaning against the wall, her phone in her hand. She’s wearing her old leggings with the bleach stains and the hole at the calf, and a purple tie-dye sweatshirt that’s a size too big for her. Her hair’s loose and framing her face and the only makeup she has on is the little scattering of eyeliner that’s hanging tight to her lash line and has managed to escape the makeup wipe.

She looks disarmed and shy. There’s something comforting about it, because A’whora feels confused and completely on the back foot and she has no idea what’s going on. But there’s a warm smile on her face and it meets her eyes, so despite her disorientation A’whora feels safe.

“How long’ve you been there? Were you just watching me sleep like some…creepy Twilight vampire?” A’whora groans, sitting up and leaning forward and taking a deep breath as if it’ll make her headache go away.

Tayce laughs in a way that makes A’whora think the question’s flustered her, but she’s not sure. “The others went to get breakfast. I said I’d stay with you. Didn’t want you to be on your own feeling like shit and maybe having the fear.”

“I am having the fear. I don’t even know how we got home.”

The way Tayce’s face drops in what looks like abject panic makes her wonder what did happen last night. “Wait. What do you actually remember?”

A’whora’s heart is racing as she scans her mind for memories. Pres, club, drinks, booth. Tayce talking to some girl. Dancefloor. Tayce. Talking to Tayce. Kissing Tayce-

Kissing Tayce.

“Oh, no,” A’whora blurts out involuntarily. Her eyes are wide as she looks at Tayce. “We…did we? We did?”

Tayce’s face seems to relax as she bursts out laughing, and it all comes flooding back to A’whora and hits her like a train. Everything that had seemed like such a good idea last night now seems like the most awkward situation in the world now that Tayce is here, on her bed, and they’re both sober.

“Tayce, no,” A’whora whines, putting her head in her hands as her friend keeps laughing. “No! That’s so awkward. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it was a good kiss,” Tayce smiles back, somehow both coy and self-assured at once. It’s her reaction that causes a new wave of cold horror to crash against A’whora, a wave on a rock.

“Oh, Jesus. Did anything else happen?”

Tayce grows animated. “God, yeah, we had the best sex ever. Sixty-nines, scissoring, we got the vibrators involved. It was bloody lush.”

A’whora’s too hungover to realise that Tayce is winding her up until she screeches with laughter right in her horrified face. “Oh my God, Rory, your face! No I’m joking, ‘course I’m joking.”

“Thank fuck,” A’whora sighs a world-weary sigh of relief, throwing herself back down against her pillows and immediately regretting it for the way her brain ricochets against her skull and makes her headache ten times worse. “So what did happen?”

“Well, you wanted to walk back because you wanted to look at the stars, so when we got to the square we lay down and looked at the stars for a bit. And then I wanted to go get chips and cheese but you were dragging me back home because you were so horny,” Tayce looks at her pointedly, and A’whora groans with embarrassment, grabbing her pillow and shoving it over her face. “But then after we got up the stairs and in through the door you said you felt sick, so I then had to hold your hair back while you threw up last night’s pasta bake and what looked to be about fifty different kinds of alcohol into the toilet bowl. Then I had to put you to bed and stay up half the night making sure you didn’t choke on your own tongue while you were asleep. Best one night stand I’ve ever had.”

When A’whora takes the pillow away, Tayce winks at her. She feels like putting the pillow back.

“I’m honestly so sorry,” she pouts. She is sorry. Part of her wishes she could at least properly remember what it had felt like to kiss Tayce. All the memories of the moment are much too paper-thin and flimsy, butterfly wings that’re all too rapidly flying away. Tayce isn’t giving her any cause to be embarrassed, but A’whora is anyway.

So she’s not sure what Tayce is going to say when she leans forward, takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. “Go brush your teeth.”

A’whora thinks she might be the first person in history to have cause of death: cringe written on her birth certificate. “You’re really adding insult to injury, aren’t you? Telling me all the embarrassing shit I did while I was off my face and then basically telling me my breath smells like dog shite.”

Tayce laughs as she shakes her head. “Just go do it, idiot.”

She’s never been one to say no to Tayce so A’whora drags herself out from under her duvet towards the little sink tucked away in the corner of her room, the cold chill of the freezing air hitting her bare arms and her feet and rendering her even more miserable. It’s only when she’s halfway through scrubbing at her teeth when it registers that she’s even got pyjamas on.

“Did you have to put my pyjamas on for me?” A’whora asks around her toothbrush, realising all too late that trying to talk through a mouthful of toothpaste is probably as unattractive as vomiting into the toilet bowl.

(The toilet bowl is definitely worse, but she’s just thinking this to help herself feel better.)

Tayce looks up from her phone and raises an eyebrow. “Nah, you managed to do it yourself. You did make me watch you put your stick-on bra on your forehead, though. Apparently it was the funniest thing in the world.”

A’whora just groans as she turns back to the sink, spitting out the toothpaste and following it with mouthwash just to completely clean her mouth of the various alcoholic sins of the night before. She crawls back into bed with a wearied sigh, and she’s surprised when Tayce falls on her side and scoots up beside her, laying on her side and facing her so their noses are almost touching. A’whora feels her heart lift and her pulse speed up, and it’s not helped by the way Tayce reaches out and tucks a little piece of hair behind her ear.  

Tayce trails her fingers across to cup A’whora’s cheek, and she’s almost whispering when she speaks. “Thank God. Just wanted to do this again.”

When she leans in A’whora shuts her eyes, meets her halfway, and feels every cell in her body electrify when their lips touch. If kissing Tayce in a club when they were both drunk was good, then kissing her hungover in bed is somehow even better, and A’whora’s mystified at the way her headache seems to completely disappear with every second she spends with her lips on Tayce’s, kissing her gently and softly as if they’ve got all the time in the world. Tayce smells of everything comforting- Tresemme shampoo, snow fairy shower gel, the fabric softener she uses that’s way too expensive for a student budget. Fresh and clean and somehow new. It’s the simplest heaven A’whora has ever experienced.

Tayce pulls away and they both giggle, embarrassment and awkwardness gone now that the elephant in the room’s been addressed. A’whora only realises Tayce has taken her hand when she lets it go, pushes herself off the mattress and crosses the room towards the door.

“We should do that again some time,” she smiles wickedly by way of a goodbye, and A’whora can only nod bashfully in reply and agreement. Tayce has given her hope to hold on to, and she knows she’s going to cling to it ridiculously until whatever this is happens again.

She can’t wait.

Just as Tayce opens her door and A’whora resigns herself to her leaving, she lifts her head off the pillow when she hears her flatmate’s voice again as she disappears into the hallway.

“And go have a shower. You smell like tequila.”

[dervampireprince]

Dumbification is ALWAYS good shit, absolutely 💯 p l e a se

For Pup vs kitten - this is IN GENERAL bc every does things differently in their dynamics n play n stuff but; pups tend to be more playful like, well, a puppy, and kitten tends to be a lil more aloof for lack of better term?? Like actual kittens. Theyre still playful tho, just not in the full on rambunctious like a pup mosh would be necessarily. Think more dainty in a sense??? My brain is kinda in speepy mode I hope words makes sense :V

There's lots of pet play websites and lil docu-videos out there! Def worth looking some up and reading/watching it. Just like, google "pup vs kitten play" or "pup play basics" "kitten play basics" stuff like that to get ideas of what ppl commonly like to do in them mayhaps?

And doing whatever ur comfy w and know how to do, style-wise, makes 110% sense yo - if u wanted to expand there's groups on hypno stuff on fet if u go on there at all, they'd probs be a good place to ask for tips on writing hypno stuff. There's also books in existence on hypnofet writing n play n all that - If I can remember titles / find free copies I'll yeet em ur way if u want? (I also wanna read em so ya)

~ MytheriousBoi

okay so maybe i like.. i know i say i'm into 'light/soft pet play' but maybe what i'm into no one actually would class as pet play.

because okay what i like and am comfortable with? being called a puppy, going non-verbal, collars and leashes, ears and tails including tail plugs, getting to just lay down and be pet

what i'm not okay with in any way? mittens or any kind of restrains or anything that would restrict movement, hoods or headgear, bdsm, actually like.. drinking from a bowl or any like deeper animal behaviour or actions, being 'trained' or punished or threat of punishment

but my mannerisms? i... okay so like i know it's own own stupid heteronormative existence as a species that sees dogs as male/masculine and cats as female/feminine, but puppy feels gender affirming because it's typically seen as the more masc option. while i know that my mannerisms are much more 'kitten' i suppose. i just didn't think it mattered cos like idk.. i know pet play is based on stereotypes we associate with animals but like there is no rule that all actual dogs all act one way. i guess the feeling i sometimes get from how people describe things is that kittens tend to be more bratty? and i'm very much not a brat. but i'm also not into like.. idk.. pet play that involves like.. i don't know how to describe it. like i didn't even know 'doing tricks' was a thing but uh no wouldn't want to do that and i'm not.. idk i'm not very energetic.. i'm definitely not rambunctious, i used to think about 'kitten' stuff for a while because i was like well i'm not very stereotypically masculine so i guess kitten works because it fits my personality more but at the same time was worried the entire time that it would feel like misgendering in a way. idk puppy makes me feel like a boy. but the way i act probably isn't very good or fitting for a puppy then. but then i say 'light pet play' for a reason because you look up puppy play and nono i'm not into the hoods or suits. i can't really cope well with looking up pet play stuff without stumbling into some bdsm pet training stuff that just .. i can't handle looking at. and there wouldn't be any need to because i wouldn't misbehave, someone wouldn't need to train me, if anything the worry with me as a sub should be that i'm going along with everything even things i don't want because i'm too afraid of 'being bad'

i don't know what 'fet' is. idk about watching videos i'm actually uh... not super comfortable watching live action video p*rn? that feels weird to admit. i don't think there'd be a place for me within any pet play community.

[phoebehalliwell]

so you know how the 100th episode is supposedly about paige but like really it's about cole and wanting to be with phoebe again instead of like being about the charmed ones... well i just realized the 150th ep is mainly about leo and like secondarily about piper and pleo... so like you think if there had been a 200th ep it would have been about henry + paige/henry... like this show be like we gonna focus on the love interests instead of the main characters for the big milestone eps

100th episode my detested,,,,,, plugging my au for the 10,000th time. but now that u point it out, like. yeah. they really both were p relationship focused whether that was establishing that they are meant to be no matter what (leo finding his way back to piper w his mind wiped) or a really weird excuse to drop a plot you've been running for two and a half season (what happened to us, we used the be so in love / maybe it's just not meant to be like girl what. girl we have been here for literal years and the best reason you can come up with to finalize getting rid of cole's character was idk maybe it just wasn't meant to be r u joking. i don't even like phole but like goddamn was that stupid. i'm sorry this is such a tangent but why does phoebe smoke now? and her and cole Both have affairs like clearly phoebe's off the deep end so i don't even really know what's going on there but cole Also having affairs like. like you're telling me this only started to break off from canon in s4 when they were Obsessed with each other in s4 they got married in s4 to someone they hate each other and are in a loveless marriage and sleep with other people because they're empty inside? really? That's The Best You Could Come Up With. piper going awol murder machine shure i'll allow the leather's a little much but it's what 2003 so whatever. but phoebe doing. whatever the hell she was doing in centennial charmed. it literally make no sense. i'm still talking about this after her family was ripped apart after seeming stable for the first time in so so long you're telling me she would abandon piper for cole and then not even like like cole? like this woman would be desperate for a family for love for support for something to call her own and hold onto and know it'll be safe know it won't leave her if anything we should have seen freaky codependent phole not this neutered lackluster indifferent mess. 😡😡😡)

anyway. relationships! tbh tho. would have Loved a good paige/henry backstory ep. bc like. we just vaguely teased henry's backstory and it's literally so fucking interesting like the implications he was abandoned at birth or maybe he was orphaned either was he grew up in the system that failed him over and over again and has like trouble getting close to people because of it and then somehow ended up as a parole officer like trying to help kids who are probably in identical situations to the one he was in like. there's So Much To Do There. but specifically, if i am doing Thee Paige/Henry Centric ep. it is a blast 2 the past in which the couple both have to confront their anxieties around parenting, ending w the reveal that paige is pregnant w twins. or starting w the reveal idc. but i am. really fascinated i've talked about paige and motherhood before but i think like. for anyone who like. has/had good parents but still you know. were either like an evil little shit or just you know fucked up and miserable so on and so forth people who have made their mother cry in the kitchen like. there's something really fascinating there because like. how do you now as a mom try to protect your own child from the pain u went through. because goddamn it seemed like your mom did everything right and yet you were still awful. so how like. how are you supposed. god if you're as good as her which seems like a reach your kid still might be like you and and what if you're not as good as her. what if everything you try to do only backfires and blows up in your face more you know blah blah blah that good old fashioned anxiety. piper and phoebe don't have this because they didn't like. have a mom. but paige did and she had a really good one who never actually got to see her get better and those scars run deep!! aaaaaaaaaa!!!! i really like mom!paige it's something i really like to think about because i think like while she's great with kids she's great with babies she's great with toddlers she's great at connecting with students with charges with parolees i think she really struggles being a mother to her own children for all the aforementioned reasons. so it could be fun to break that down While we also a) get henry's tragic backstory bc we always need more of that and b) henry's own views of parenting and also just more of their relationship headcanon rite now henry gets really into astrology so he can help paige with spells and the like because he hates feeling like he's powerless and can't help his wife so he finds all the ways a mortal can help <3. but yeah i think henry secretly like doesn't even fully realize it has a whole lot of anger stored up in his heart bc i do think he was abandoned at birth and you know paige kinda got closure on that you know she literally got to meet both parties and you know they gave her away to literally protect her from unspeakable wrath vis a vis the elders so there's that but for henry it's like. like he was their son. and they just. they left him. they didn't even leave any way for him to find them again because like. they just didn't fucking care, i guess??? like. what. what could be the reason what could drive them to do that and you know paige whose parents Had Reason are like i'm sure your parents had reason but imo. they didn't. and i think that's a wound henry really pretends like he doesn't have. so we're def tearing that open in ep 200. that and then just like. how much henry wants a family <3 how much he wants to take em to six flags and make french toast on sunday morning and fly kites in the park like he wants to give his kids the childhood he wished so so bad he could have had. bonus round after traveling back through time to pick at scabs til they bleed, we end with a quick flash forward into the future where everything works out <3

[botanyshitposts]

whats the deal with proven winners?

okay. so. this is actually how i got into botany in the first place; i got an unpaid internship at a greenhouse in high school and realized, very quickly, that we live in a jurassic park hellscape where big companies breed plants solely for their looks and performance, and i found that so fucking weird that i couldnt get enough of it and fell down the rabbit hole. i don’t find them bad per say; i find them weird and how they manage their product in terms of policing their retailers is very sketchy to me, but they’re not like, monstanto-level off the shits (yet). with mother’s day next weekend we’re coming up on one of the biggest greenhouse/ornamental plant industry sales days of the year, next to valentines’ day (which favors the rose industry especially), so this is an exceptionally convenient time to talk about this. 

proven winners is one of the biggest ornamental plant companies in the united states, possibly the world. you might know them from their patented white flower pots. they’re centered in california (as, actually, a lot of these large flower producers are) and they manage a HUUUUUUGEEE network of giant industrial flower greenhouses. 

like, you have to understand, all garden retailers have to buy their shit from somewhere, and although the centers and local greenhouses selling proven winners stuff are often small and independent (unless ur talking like...flowerama or something), a large portion of the plants themselves, like many things in capitalism, form an industry of their own dominated by a handful of oligarch corporations, of which proven winners is one. small retailers order bulk products from these companies, should it be through full-color paper catalogs (which exist, btw, and are wild in and of themselves to look at; i actually have a few back home that i keep around solely bc they’re incredibly fascinating in a slightly offputting jurassic park kind of way), online, or through a sales representative for their region. 

it depends on what they’re ordering, but they can buy seeds, plugs (the black trays of like....tiny plants you buy at garden centers to put in planters? the ones that come in, like, six packs? those are called ‘plugs’), and in the case of perennials, woody plants of various ages, among other things. these plants are bred, marketed, and sold on a goddamn industrial scale. it’s wild. 

now....this is where it gets absolutely fascinating to me. this isn’t just proven winners, but proven winners is one of the top contenders of this. some highlights of how plants are actually marketed on an industrial scale: 

-plants come out in collections. like, you have horticulturalist designer people who put their names on some stuff and they all go out as like, The New Hot Thing(tm). 

-they always promote their top selling stuff, and the plants that won awards, and like, the most popular flower arrangements and stuff. this in and of itself, again, isn’t like.....bad, it just feels weird how plants are marketed as objects rather than living things, you know?

-these plants are 100% bred and optimized for their commercial value and how they look. see the above point about how it feels like they’re treating them as objects. 

-every year, there are new plants, which are put at the front of the catalogue and like, show them off as the Hit New Products. these are all part of the year’s collective collection, so like, proven winners has their 2019 collection all ready on their site in a special little tab: 

FUN INDUSTRY SIDE STORY: looks like they have some new orange petunias this year, which reminds me fondly of the 2017 purge ordered by the USDA of a ton of illegally GMO orange petunias....

you see, orange petunias don’t exist naturally, so what companies do is either 1. systematically breed orange into them, which can take years, or 2. take red petunias and just put in some coding for yellow from the maize genome, which makes them orange. usually, you have to submit all this paperwork and go through a ton of government red tape to sell GMOs, including required trials conducted by the federal government, but what some of these large ornamental seed companies were doing was just....not telling the government and just kind of...pretending that they bred them. so in 2017, a netherlands team noticed that these were like....kind of Suspicious(tm), and started doing some tests....and accidentally uncovered like, this huge international orange petunia scandal across all these companies, over 30 varieties of illegal petunia being sold internationally. they had to alert the actual EU, which then alerted the USDA, who then gave an actual government order for these large companies to literally burn, bury, or otherwise destroy all their industrial stock of the proven illegal GMO orange petunias. 

small retailers who had bought them assuming that they were legal were allowed to keep and continue selling what they bought, but the actual producers were ordered to just fucking. violently destroy everything. the USDA informed these companies that they could sell them again, but only if they were put through the proper government channels and received proper certification. i checked the old recall list and didn’t see these, so i’m assuming they’re like...Legit, but. im 👀 somebody test these lol

AAANNNNYYway that aside, if you would like to see the Proven Winners 2019 Flower Collection Showcase(tm), they have a bunch of......weird kind of ads on their youtube channel showing artsy pics of their new shit. to this day i can’t pin down exactly what about them makes me feel slightly uncomfortable, but you really do get a sense that they’re selling an object to preform, which i guess is the point, but...idk, it’s just a very different view of plants, i think, then i personally have. very sci-fi-y, if you will. all their ads are like this; these video are essentially very similar to what you get from their print sales booklets, but in video form.

see, last but not least, my biggest beef with proven winners is the weird way they handle their company. 

you get inspected by the plant police.

im not kidding. for those not very familiar with plant reproduction, you can grow vegetative clones of plants through a process called taking cuttings, where you cut off a part of the plant and put it in a new pot under the right conditions, and it develops a root system and becomes a genetic clone to the parent. obviously, anyone can do this with a lot of the proven winners plants, especially because PW plants, as i’ve noticed, tend to be bred to be more vigorous. 

proven winners wants to ensure that there’s no Illegal Plant Downloads taking place, so they literally like....send people out to these small retailers and ask to see their stock to make sure that all the plants are going in the Patented Proven Winners White Pots(tm) with the Patented Proven Winners Information Tags(tm). you MUST plant proven winners stuff in the pots they send you, with the instructions they send you, and they will check you for this. the first time my internship mentor ordered from them, they accidentally planted the plugs in generic brown pots instead of the white ones, and the weird proven winners police rolled in unannounced for an inspection and told them that the next time it happened they wouldn’t sell to them anymore. what they’re worried about happening is that the growers will order a small amount and then just make a bunch of cuttings without paying them, and it’s just......weird. like i get why they do it but that’s always struck me as really, really shady lmao

[g3nosarchive]

ok i genuinely think a lot of other people have this problem but stop inserting yourself when xyz issue is mentioned. when someone is telling you that a person, a celebrity, some franchise is harming their identity or anyone’s identity as a minority, or part of a certain race or religion or anything shut the fuck up and accept it.

they do not need to know your emotional attachment to said thing, your disbelief, your horror, your personal experience - we didn’t ask for all that. we know just how bad it is, cus yk it harms us maybe? we’ve already gone through the cycle of being angry and indignant and now we’re here trying to get you to understand in the hopes that as a friend you do what you’re meant to do when you became friends with us. we are not your constant ball of anger to use whenever you find something that’s “crazy, unbelievably, shockingly” once again, a hate crime, when you decide you want to feel angry and care about it.

more under the cut bc i talk too much

by doing that, you’re making an issue that you didn’t even know about suddenly yours. ask yourself, what is the purpose for telling anyone all that? to get them to sympathize with you personally so you can get a pass because you didn’t know? of course you don’t know, of course you’re unaware, that’s the whole reason why you’re being told in the first place. do not water down the issue or even try to play the ‘everything has some issue like this so there’s no point in going this far’ card. especially as a white person. the reason why you don’t know primarily is because it doesn’t affect you and it doesn’t cross your mind.

when you watch a show with a black character, you don’t care about how off the character design is or how stereotypical and borderline racist the comedy gag surrounding said character is. when you listen to your favorite white music artists or watch your favorite movie with a majority white cast, white staff, white team, and white theme, you don’t care to analyze just how outdated and stereotypical the way that token asian character is portrayed. some of y’all don’t understand and will never understand the mental struggle and awareness forever plugged into the brain of lgbt and/or poc, especially black people when we consume anything, when we go anywhere, when we meet new people, to constantly catch those micro aggressions and know what to avoid.

so when someone tells you insert classic hot mess is racist and you should stop supporting it, one of the worst things you can do beside outright rejecting it is to defend it and insinuate that we don’t know what we’re talking about, that we need 30 different sources to prove it all, that you don’t think (for example taylor swifts dream colonized africa mv) is bad. you try to say the thing or person that is actively promoting all this homophobia, racism, transmisogyny etc needs to be kindly educated, is trying their best, will learn soon enough, just wasn’t educated, will do better in the future (esp looking at u kpop stans). does their apparent regret but refusal to properly apologize actually matter? the damage has already been done.

that in itself is a privilege i could never have. i don’t even try being a fan of any major white celebrity or any kpop group because i guarantee if i search up their name with ‘racist’, ‘sexist’, ‘homophobic’, ‘transphobic’, ‘cultural appropriation’ behind it something or some image is bound to show up. you will all say “oh they haven’t done anything yet” but when it comes out that they did, they have, and they do not care about who it affects, suddenly it’s a bombshell dropped on you out of nowhere.

it’s not that hard to spot these things actually. if your fav is constantly putting themselves against people of color, saying shady shit about non cishets while being a cishet themself, saying one thing and doing another, or has been silent when their voice was expected to speak up, shouldn’t you notice? y’all will reblog all these posts but in reality only 10% are actually reading and listening and actually digesting this information for future use.

and i think the thing that pisses me off is this is all from personal experience where i’m speaking from. over the past 2 days the amount of times if i’ve heard about the “tea that dropped w meghan markle” is ridiculous and annoying. a girl texted me and i sat there and i realized that she does this on a daily basis to fuel my anger and get me to validate her own useless anger. of course i knew about it and i wasn’t surprised at all - she’s still a black woman.

almost every black blog on here, when they get big enough, deals with some sort of weird shit surrounding their blackness. if you get big on speaking about issues you are now this emotionless token ‘smart black person i can actually trust’ to use as your replacement for google. this is not to say asking questions is bad, but it is so easy to pull up some of the shit you guys ask for. some people get called slurs directly, targeted for being too black or not black enough, attacked for their features and etc and someone mentioned this before but the only people that care in those situations are other black people themselves. white people will have blm in their bio but turn the other way the minute some anon starts acting up in their mutuals’ inbox, calling them a dark1e because they felt confident enough to post some selfies. and then you get sad when we dont go to you for any kind of support? 

i’ve stated sometimes that asking me questions on issues and things is okay, but one of the main reasons i say that is because whether i say it or not, i’ll be asked questions and expected to know everything and i am your personal walking encyclopedia and ofc it’s natural for me to have all this information in my head, as if i didn’t research it myself. but then i think about the numerous amounts of people that specifically say not to ask them this shit because it really does tire you out, that they don’t want to have to deal with this in any space but they still get them. 

and then the ones that don’t even know themself so people will use them as an example and say “well this person didn’t know and they’re ‘marginalized identity’ so it should be fine for me too”. good god just apologize, show that you really care, change your behavior and move on. do you think it was fun being asked the statistics for george floyd’s and other black peoples death in class? that you were being inclusive and giving me a chance to show off my intelligence, to prove to others that i really had something up here and you were my greatest star eyes white friend that gave me that chance? i cant close my posts like this properly but i want you to think about that shit and actually ask yourself if you’d do that. a lot of you will read this and think “i’m not that type of racist” “i don’t have those deep seated prejudices in me” yes you do. you just haven’t been called out on it.

for all the shit ive dealt with above, if i’ve ever talked to you about this before dont come to me to apologize i do not need it and you are not the only person i’ve received this from. i guarantee you that there’s about 20 other people i’ve thought about while writing this post considering i’m a black person in the real world, so keep your guilt to yourself an deal with it

white people don’t add on to this

[raskies456]

general blog ask game

tagged by @ourlordapollo (:

tagging anyone who wants to do it

under a readmore bc it’s a little long

1. Why did you choose your url?

I was very into gravity falls at the time (especially loved the character Ford Pines) and once I thought of the pun I was basically obligated. it’s a pun on the last name but also on the “pining for the fjords” line in the dead parrot sketch from Monty Python’s flying circus

2. Any side blogs?

a handful, though a fair bit have fallen out of use

I’ll plug my art blog at @456art though

also have an oc aesthetic blog I sporadically reblog to

the rest are mostly for archiving/curating posts relevant to specific interests

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

def since 2012, maybe late 2011

4. Do you have a queue tag?

not really, I rarely queue posts unless I’m trying to post art at optimum times or am going to be offline for a while

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

a friend recommended it to me (bc I was really into doctor who and Sherlock fhfhghg)

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

I like Ford Pines. I am trans. also I’ve had a wonky looking Ford as my icon for a long time and I don’t like changing icons/uns much bc I don’t want to confuse people

7. Why did you choose your header?

I don’t even have a header unless I do and forgot lmao

8. What is your post with the most notes?

afaik it’s a post I made that’s a photo of a weird store window in a local dying (now dead, press F) mall, hit about 20k which is Wild

though tbh my post about therapy being useful even if it can’t change a situation was still gaining traction when I turned off notifs, so it may be more by now.

9. How many mutuals do you have?

no idea lmao

10. How many followers?

1491 tho no idea how many are dead or bots

11. How many blogs do you follow?

1171

that’s a lot, I should probably clear out dead blogs

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

absolutely

13. How often do you use tumblr?

too much. I have occasionally hit post limit, but only a couple of times

14. Have you ever had a fight/argument with another blog?

depends on how you count? I’ve def reblogged posts with counterarguments or had people argue with my posts, but I rarely go back and forth, and then usually only a single reply to a reply. I don’t get much engagement, and I only tend to write responses to good faith arguments or when I think the audience could benefit from seeing my reply. otherwise I just ignore or block when people try to start shit

15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

hate them. anything that tries to make you feel guilty if you don’t reblog is shit. if the content of the post itself is worth spreading I Will reblog around that sort of comment or make my own post. have unfollowed people for posting too many of these before and will again

milder pressure to reblog I may still reblog but I’ll tag it as reblog bait

16. Do you like tag games?

if I’m in the mood! I don’t always do them if tagged, but clearly I do them sometimes lol

I don’t super like tagging anyone in them though, don’t want anyone to feel pressured, but I don’t mind if people tag me so long as they aren’t bothered if I don’t respond

17. Do you like ask games?

depends, I do like ask lists that I can opt into by reblogging, but I’m not big on chain asks. I also often forget I reblogged an ask game list so please include the question itself and not just the number if you wanna ask me

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

idk about famous, but I do have a few mutuals who are pretty well known artists (:

19. Do you have a crush on any of your mutuals?

nah, though you guys are all very cool. I have a tendency to latch onto specific users sometimes but it’s generally a “wow this person is so awesome I want them to like me” not so much a crush, though I don’t generally act on this bc I can get hung up on getting their approval and make myself anxious about the opinion of someone I barely know, which is not great

[alloftimeandspacetosee]

Shouting in the Wind, Part3

And here we are, at the end of what I wrote (bc this was the end of the roleplay as well haha)

 I fully intend to write some more, but uhhhh yeah. idk. I feel like it works best when there’s plot going on in the background to interact around?

 no idea. Sort of doing one for some other OCs, but that’s definitely suffering from I-don’t-know-what’s-going-on symptoms.

[1] [2]

~

3:29

rip in pieces: fuk yeahhhhhh

PI Sleuth: I don’t think that’s Morgan, but even if it is - what are you doing up so late?

rip in pieces: it isnt

oh

oh maybe it is

Cap: oops

Should maybe try harder the next time, alright?

PI Sleuth: You should, perhaps, go to sleep now?

rip in pieces: fair

9:45

Sunshine Child: how did you get into his phone?

Best of the Beast: would u believe that i found a perfect prosthetic of his thumb in his bag

The Listener: … No.

Best of the Beast: good, cause thatd be weird

The Listener: Why did you even suggest that?

Best of the Beast: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

i am vv tired

rip in pieces: fuckin’ shattered mate aye

The Listener: Please. Don’t do that.

Sunshine Child: how then?

Best of the Beast: oh so u know how its fingerprint locked and i dont have any of the right equipment to get a copy of his fingerprint with me

weirdly

The Listener: Yes, because we all carry that around with us.

Best of the Beast: oh, u do? damn Ash, always prepared

anyway

so im laying there

in bed

unable to sleep

and scruff is whining about his bag and being generally hopless and miserable without him

Sunshine Child: I hope you gave him the pats

Best of the Beast: of course I did, I’m not some kind of /monster/

[pic of Scruff lying across Esther’s lap, belly up and clearly relaxed. Her other hand is resting on his belly, and his head is half crooked up towards the camera, ears flopping back and tongue half stuck out]

and im playing with summers phone bc mine is plugged into the wall on the other side of the room and aint nobody moving that far

Twin #2: #mood

Best of the Beast: and his screen lights up bc someones tryna contact him

(cant work out who bc his nicknames are weird af)

and scruff stretches across to nose at the button and it

it opens???

The Listener: He’s set his phone to open to Scruff?

Twin #1: i mean. if it works?

Sunshine Child: that’s kinda sweet

Actual Dad™: I hope you didn’t snoop too much.

Best of the Beast: what do you take me for i am /hurt/

The Plan™: …

Best of the Beast: only a little. storms ‘’looking after’’ his phone now

apparently i cant be trusted or some shit

Cap: well that’s fair

Best of the Beast: holy shit yall are terrible

here i am doing a good deed for my bro and yall

yall are accusing me of /theft/ and /misdeeds/

the slander

Twin #1: did you get anything good on him?

Best of the Beast: nah he logged out all his apps before leaving his phone n his texts are in some kinda code

The Listener: And there we have it. Esther really can’t be trusted ;)

Best of the Beast: oh got damn

Sunshine Child: nice

Twin #1: buddy got play~ed

Best of the Beast: u guys are the w or s t

im gonna go train w storm

see if i ever come back to u guys

Twin #2: you love us really

Best of the Beast: shut up u arent my real mum

10:15

Twin #1: @pi-whatever the frick

dad

i like that youll call tooth out on her late nights but not mum???

13:23

PI Sleuth: That would be because when your mother is having a ridiculously late night, I am actually sleeping.

Twin #1: fair

Cap: hey, the city never sleeps at night, why should I?

Twin #2: do we need to look up international scandals?

Cap: ha. ha.

[Cap set her own nickname to sleepisfortheweak]

sleepisfortheweak: I don’t think I need to explain myself to you

15:07

Best of the Beast: hey cap how long did u take before challenging ure first league?

like after beating the gyms I mean

sleepisfortheweak: uh

I think I… skipped out the region for a while?

wait no that was before the last gym

is this for Storm?

Best of the Beast: yeah im tryna convince him he can do it before the others get back

sleepisfortheweak: So I don’t think I’m /really/ the best person to judge that

bc I charge on and on and on

but hey it seemed to work

until it didn’t?

Best of the Beast: gosh thats useful

sleepisfortheweak: What I’m trying to say is that he’s going to be the best judge of how ready he is

If he doesn’t feel ready, don’t push him

Best of the Beast: what if he doesnt believe hes ready?

Twin #2: kick his ass

Best of the Beast: wow youre even worse at this

sleepisfortheweak: Don’t listen to her she never did competitive battling

Twin #2: I mean true but

sometimes they just need convincing?

Best of the Beast: and how

exactly

would my

‘’kicking his ass’’

convince him?????

Twin #2: are you passing up an opportunity to beat some sense into someone?

Best of the Beast: this is storm were talking about

itd be like kicking a puppy

a cute one

one that im like

Twin #2: are you

15:20

Best of the Beast: am i waht???

dont leave like that what the fuck

The Listener: It’s happened.

Best of the Beast: what

whats happened

sleepisfortheweak: Morgan

Best of the Beast: W H A T

Twin #1: Aurora’s got it, she’s gone.

So’s Phoe, apparently?

she was on her way here by boat

sleepisfortheweak: did she forget Aurora can teleport

Best of the Beast: i swear u blessed are fckn useless

waht the FUCK is going on?

The Listener: We don’t know.

But Morgan is registering, and Hera’s spiked, I can feel it.

Twin #1: And Phoe phoned

wanting to know if we knew about it

so Aurora’s gone to get her and find the kids

Best of the Beast: why didnt u go?

Twin #1: Don’t know how long they’ll be, someone’s got to keep our job/place/etc

Also it’ll probably be a quick job and Aurora doesn’t need to worry about an extra body to transport when there’ll already be four and herself.

sleepisfortheweak: That’s good thinking

Best of the Beast: yeah ok were not going for the league then

keep us nonmarked in the loop pls?

Twin #1: I don’t know how much we’ll get to know

The Plan™: plus you have a show to prep for

The Listener: Wow, I heard /that/ exclamation all the way down the hall.

[Best of the Beast set the nickname for Twin #1 to elephant that forgets]

Actual Dad™: Are you calling your mother an elephant?

Best of the Beast: i mean.

i thought she didnt forget things?

elephant that forgets: extenuating circumstances.

I gotta go do a Thing

Best of the Beast: good luck with that!!

16:16

Best of the Beast: so no one knos anything?

Sunshine Child: nope

sleepisfortheweak: I know what it is to not be recognised everywhere I go again

it’s beautiful

also, fuck tourists

Best of the Beast: that shows you

never become notorious

sleepisfortheweak: how was I to know what would happen!!

it was a shitty coping method!! I shouldn’t be famous for it!!

elephant that forgets: the trials of accidentally becoming an elite trainer

famousness is not a thing to be taken lightly

sleepisfortheweak: yah but like. you knew what you were getting into

The Listener: I think it must be a thing in this family, because a lot of people seem to know about Esther now as well

Best of the Beast: damn

three generations in

The Listener: They don’t know you as a NightGale, though, they know you as the Tooth Fairy

Best of the Beast: ok quick question

how

thE FUCK

are they talking to you about that???

The Listener: Oh, it was while we were in Azoth, you must have made an impression with your fighting I suppose.

Apparently we look alike in some way.

Best of the Beast: huh

i mean i suppose our mothers are twins

but ure far prettier

The Listener: … Thanks?

Best of the Beast: its true!

ive been punched in the face one too many times to be pretty

sleepisfortheweak: one could say you’re pretty… /striking/

Best of the Beast: …

17:27

Twin #2: I cant believe this is the top chat here

I figured yd have more of a social convo going than that

Best of the Beast: what.

Who dis

elephant that forgets: You couldn’t keep from snooping, huh

Twin #2: I just wanted to see what’s been going on!!

Not fucking much as it happens

Do I carry /all/ the interesting of this family now

The Listener: Morgan?

Best of the Beast: thE FRICK???!

[Twin #2 set her name to The Prodigal Son]

The Prodigal Son: o shit waddup

wait

Best of the Beast: WHAT THE HECK BOI

[The Prodigal Son set her name to Ya Boi]

Best of the Beast: THE FUCK YOU GO

Ya Boi: long story

elephant that forgets: don’t we know it

Ya Boi: oh i guess u have all been kept in the loop

more or less

Actual Dad™: Are you all safe?

Ya Boi: yeah. Yeah, were good.

tired af but well live

Best of the Beast: good

not that i cared

bc u kno

abandoned

no info

left to fend for ourselves

Ya Boi: i thought kari was keeping you in the loop?

Best of the Beast: !!!

first of all fuk u

[Best of the Beast set the name for Ya Boi to proDICKal son]

Best of the Beast: i didnt even kno she was with you what teh fuk

proDICKal son: you… you told us she was coming to join us

Best of the Beast: i didnt think shed gone with u!! fuk!!

thought shed just like. gone her own way when she found out u were all hopless nerds.

proDICKal son: tried to leave her with storm

how is he, by the way?

Best of the Beast: hes good

not that you fckn care

not that you DESERVE him

[proDICKal son set her name to nope]

nope: i mean. true. ive been trying to protect him

Best of the Beast: son yaint done shit

thats my job now

Actual Dad™: Where are you right now?

Best of the Beast: not with us thats for sure

[Best of the Beast set her name to storm protector]

nope: cruise ship

aunt phoe was coming over???

so like

were here to pick up her stuff i guess

storm protector: did

did she forget that aurora can /literally/ teleport

anywhere in the world

Sunshine Child: It isn’t as though she uses that skill much, I guess?

storm protector: fair

but like

????

The Listener: I really don’t understand what you’re trying to get at there, Esther.

storm protector: why would she buy TICKETS on a BOAT to get somwhere in a hurry??

like those things are slow af

why not plane???

why not phone first??

sleepisfortheweak: listen if I dropped my shit and flew whenever I thought the twins were in danger, I’d never have got anythign done

Maybe she thought it wasn’t /that/ big a deal when she set out? The world will never know

storm protector: we might if morgan ANSWERED

18:08

storm protector: also neither of the twins defending themselves??? iconic

elephant that forgets: sorry, Arlette can’t come to the phone right now

storm protector: what

elephant that forgets: because she’s dead.

storm protector: ...

The Plan™: It’s true, I saw it happen.

Shot through the heart by her own mother.

Actual Dad™: Truly dramatic.

She keeled over at the table. In the middle of eating, of all things.

PI Sleuth: That may have been a little bit drastic.

storm protector: and u didnt get a video

for shame

Sunshine Child: We’re eating! it would’ve been rude

storm protector: buddy, so’s using ure phone at the table in general

AND YET

sleepisfortheweak: it’s ok, I’m on good terms with Diaval, I’ll just let him know to resurrect her

Don’t think there’ll be that much change tbh

elephant that forgets: it’s ok, I can perform my masterpiece for you later

that was just the dress rehearsal, I’ll polish it for when we meet back up

also @cap fuckin’ ouch

sleepisfortheweak: hey I care

I could’ve just left you in the dirt

a corpse before your time

dead before your parents

how could you do that to us

elephant that forgets: but instead

you sell me out to the god of vampires

also you killed me??? so like I don’t think you have a leg to stand on

sleepisfortheweak: well, if it works

10:43

[nope set her name to hot shit]

hot shit: @esther, league right?

we’re coming in

storm protector: kk

ruins? or just

hot shit: nah bro clearly right in the centre of the champions room

what do you take us for

storm protector: morgan???

quit stealing phones dammit

hot shit: really?

you think this is him?

I am /hurt/

what kinda son of a snack do u think I am

storm protector: so thats Kari then

suddenly everything makes sense

hot shit: yeah ya mom thought id be more sensible than him

The Listener: More fool her, then.

hot shit: absolutely

storm protector: get out of

The Plan™: if you all kick back there for a while, we’re making our way over

storm protector: *out by the ruins

@Keone, Storm still has to do the league anyhow

The Plan™: By which I mean that our tour has its finale at the league in a couple or so days, which seems like a fitting end to this whole mess

[sleepisfortheweak set her name to sleepforaweek]

sleepforaweek: catch you in my dreams

or nigHTMARES

elephant that forgets: listen if you sleep lightly enough to be woken by chat noises, you should maybe

mute the chat?

sleepforaweek: I appreciate that you thought I was asleep

elephant that forgets: just a suggestion like

Actual Dad™: Or you could turn your phone off

sleepforaweek: these are sensible suggestions

that I am going to continue ignoring

y’all aint the boss of me

storm protector: *yaint

sleepforaweek: See, you get me

Esther’s my favourite

storm protector: hot shit

hot shit: you called?

(Aurora, btdubs)

Sunshine Child: That was a little bit creepy

please don’t

hot shit: couldn’t resist

but really @tooth we’ve arrived

21:03

rip in pieces: fuck it’s good to have my phone back

wait

why is that my name

storm protector: bc u were dead to us

obviously

The Listener: It’s good to have you back properly, Morgan

storm protector: until ure next fuckery, at least

rip in pieces: did you miss the part where that wasnt my fault?

storm protector: idk did u miss the part where i didnt care

Sunshine Child: ouch

rip in pieces: ilu tooth

ilu all

storm protector: thats sweet

whos got ure phone now?

is that scruff has he learned to type

ilu scruff!!!!

rip in pieces: Why can I not profess my love for my family

Whomst I have not seen in a couple of weeks

Why can I not do that? Why must my identity be questioned?

Why do you not believe that this is me, that this is who I am?

storm protector: cap needs to teach me how her eyebrow trick

hang on

The Listener: What is going on?

[selfie style pic of Esther and Morgan; Morgan (still in his aether uniform, hair teased out of its usual ringlets and only sort of tied back) trying to look disgruntled but failing as Esther (in a tank top that says “I flexed so hard the sleeves fell off”, with bright orange hair, her right eye beginning to swell) sprawls across his chest, clearly trying to be in the way as much as possible, grinning wildly]

storm protector: i just had to give summer The Eyebrow in person

but actually it was him, so now were bonding

rip in pieces: oh yes Tooth, you are the best and I love you and this bonding is simply the best you must never bdsfljsf

The Listener: So I’m going back to my book.

Sunshine Child: g’night! I have a level to complete

01:17

[rip in pieces set his name to a gift]

a gift:

sleepforaweek

: Get your arse to sleep, you must be shattered

a gift: aye cap, I’m going

01:55

sleepforaweek: I’m glad you’re all safe, though

Thanks for making this chat, Esther