#better about not getting angry? if that makes sense

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap: a letter from your future spouse

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: a love life check-up

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pile 1

i wonder what you’re doing right now. are you chasing a dream you’ve started to question? laughing with friends who see only parts of the real you? or are you like me - reflecting on the strange twists life keeps throwing your way, trying to make sense of how it all fits together?

i don’t have all the answers, but i know this: our story is unfolding exactly as it should. the setbacks, the detours, the heartbreak - it’s all shaping us, preparing us for the moment our lives finally align. even in the moments when you doubt that there is light ahead, know that i see it clearly. you’re the hope i keep reaching for, even in the dark.

i often imagine meeting you for the first time. maybe it’s ordinary - a passing glance, a casual conversation. but there will be something unshakable about it. something in the way your smile catches me off guard or the way your voice pulls me in. i’ll know it’s you. and even if i don’t say it right away, you’ll feel it too.

right now, i’m still figuring things out. life’s been throwing me in every direction, and i’m just holding on, trying to steer clear of what i can. the funny thing about fate is how it works even when you don’t see it coming. every choice i’ve made, every chance i’ve taken, has brought me closer to you.

when the time is right, i’ll be ready to step up for you, for us. i’m not the person i was yesterday, and i’m still becoming the person i want to be. there is one thing i know for sure: when we meet, i’ll choose you - again and again, every day, through every celebration and every challenge.

yes - there will be celebrations. i want to laugh with you until we can’t breathe, to celebrate to our wins, big and small, and to hold you close when the night winds down. i want to share your joy, your dreams, and every quiet moment in between. you’re the person i want standing next to me through it all.

until then, i’ll keep working on myself, learning from the lessons life throws my way, and holding space for you in my heart. when fate turns in our favor and our paths finally cross, i’ll be ready to give you my love, my devotion, and my whole damn soul.

yours,

future spouse

pile 2

i’ve been lost before. trapped in my own cycles, chasing goals that felt hollow or moving too fast to notice what i was really missing. there were times i poured my energy into the wrong things, thinking that success or control could fill the void. but life has a way of humbling you, of forcing you to stop, slow down, and face the truth: none of it matters without you.

you’re the one who will make me want to be better - not out of obligation, but because i’ll see in you everything i’ve been searching for. you’re my anchor and the softness in need in my life, the one who shows me that love isn’t about perfection or performance, but about presence. when i look at you, i’ll see everything i didn’t know i needed - warmth, patience, and a kind of beauty that radiates from the inside out.

i know i’ve taken the long road to get to you. sometimes i’ve been stuck, unsure of what to do next, afraid to leave what felt comfortable, even when i knew it wasn’t enough. but you’ll be the one who changes that. with you, there will be no fear, no hesitation - only a deep, undeniable pull that i can’t resist.

you have this power, don’t you? to nurture and create, to transform whatever you touch into something extraordinary. you’re a queen in every sense of the word - abundant, radiant, and endlessly giving. i want you to know this: you don’t always have to give. you don’t always have to hold everything together. with me, you can let go. you'll be able to lean on me. i’ll be the one to carry the weight when you’re tired, to remind you how much you’re worth, even when the world forgets.

i know i’ll mess up sometimes. i’ll stumble, i’ll falter, and i’ll get caught in my own head. but i promise i’ll never stop trying. i’ll never stop choosing you. even in the moments when it feels like we’re standing still, i’ll be there, holding your hand, reminding you that we’re exactly where we’re meant to be.

there’s no moving on from you. no walking away, no running from the love i know we’ll have. you’re the one i’ll keep coming back to, again and again, because you’re home. and when we’re together, i’ll spend the rest of my days showing you just how much you mean to me.

my heart is your's,

future spouse

pile 3

if you’ve felt a restless pull in your heart, know that i feel it too. i’m not the kind of man who sits still for long - i’ve always chased what makes me feel alive, even when i didn’t fully understand what i was after. somewhere along the way, i realized what i’ve been searching for is you.

you’re the spark in the distance, the promise of something more. i can feel your energy even now, calling me to move, to grow, to become the man you deserve. i’m not perfect—sometimes i charge ahead too fast, speak before i think, or get caught up in chasing every wild idea that crosses my mind. but one thing i know for sure: when i meet you, everything will fall into focus.

you’re the kind of person who could make a man rethink everything. your passion, your curiosity, your fire - i want to match it and watch us both burn brighter together. with you, every day will feel like an adventure, every moment full of discovery. i want to know your mind, your dreams, and your wildest ideas. i want to be the one who makes you laugh so hard you forget to breathe and who listens when you need to share the thoughts you’ve never spoken aloud.

but i also want you to know this: i’ll be the one who gives you space when you need it. life isn’t always about the chase; sometimes, it’s about the stillness. when the world gets too loud, when the fire feels like it’s burning too hot, i’ll be there to remind you to rest. i’ll be your calm in the chaos, your quiet in the storm.

i know we’ll make mistakes - together and apart. we’ll say the wrong things, take the wrong steps, and sometimes, we’ll need time to figure it all out. but isn’t that part of the beauty? love isn’t about perfection; it’s about showing up, learning, and growing side by side.

i can’t wait to see where life takes us, to chase the wild unknown with you by my side. you make me want to dream bigger, run faster, and still, somehow, savor every single moment. i’m ready to throw myself into this with you, no hesitation, no regrets.

until we meet, i’ll keep searching, learning, and preparing for the day when i get to call you mine.

yours always,

your future spouse

[lotties-ashwagandha]

LET IT BLEED AWAY BETWEEN US

(adult) lottie matthews x fem!reader.

she shows up at your door… (inspired by season three episode 2 babyyyyyy I wrote this at 4 fucking in the morning earlier bc I couldn’t sleep enjoy please read to compensate my suffering)

“So,” you start, unsure of how to begin. “How was it?”

Lottie blinks. “The mental institution?”

You were better off not asking.

“It was fine,” she answers in a dull tone. She sits across from where you stand as she occupies your armchair — in your living room, which she has infiltrated and made herself at home in. “It’s been worse.”

She’s told you before, stories of all she has endured. You sit very straight, unsure exactly of how to proceed — it hasn’t been long since you last saw her, but there is a gap between the two of you already, and even in such a short amount of time the two of you have changed. She no longer has her wellness center to lead, you no longer follow her in it. You have been thrusted back into the real world — real dangers accompany it.

“You have a nice place here,” Lottie gestures around your living room. “I’m surprised you could get a hold of it so quickly.”

Your old house you had lived in before moving into the wellness center. You’ve had it on the market for a while, but no one has put in an offer. You don’t tell her that, though — part of you wants her to bear the guilt, think you found some new place in a pinch.

“I had to find somewhere to go,” you say defensively. “While you were detained.”

Her expression sours, she doesn’t like your wording. Neither do you. You don’t enjoy being angry with her, especially after being apart. All you want to do is rush to her, pull her into your arms and let it all bleed away between you, but it was Lottie herself who always showed those who followed her to feel their anger.

Lottie sinks further into her seat, sensing your discontent, crosses one leg over the other and pretends she’s blind to the world. “I missed you.”

You hum in response. Silence lies heavily between you.

“Are you upset with me?”

You don’t respond.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No.”

She sighs. “Then what?”

“You hunted Shauna through the woods. You got shot.”

Lottie stands and makes her way to you. She looks tired above all, but you can’t help but notice a fidgety manner about her — dark eyes always flitting to avert your gaze, hands spinning her rings around and around her fingers. There is a general restlessness to her that you aren’t used to — it’s worrying.

“I understand that you’re frustrated—”

“What if it had been me?” You cross your arms. “Would you have hunted me?”

Lottie scoffs.

“Answer me. Would you have?”

She hesitates. She waits a beat too long before answering. You see the same flightiness. “No.”

You let it drop for now. You don’t want to press her and end up with a different answer. “Did it hurt?”

She’s becoming quite done with this. Her tone is laced with sarcasm, sharp with it. “When I fell from heaven?”

“When you got shot.”

“Yes, it fucking hurt.”

“I want to see.”

Again she sighs, more dramatically this time — but after a moment’s hesitation Lottie pulls off her black jacket. Your eyes find it immediately, though the wound is tiny. It’s already beginning to scar: the small mark of the bullet you remember all too clearly embedded in her skin.

“Are you okay?” Lottie asks.

“Are you?”

She offers you a soft smile — it’s not really an answer, more mournful than anything, but momentarily you have been persuaded to put your anger aside when her hands take yours and again you are home.

“If you ever get shot again, I’m leaving you,” you threaten. It sounded much less surreal to say in your head.

“I don’t plan on it,” Lottie assures you. “Though I didn’t plan on getting shot the first time.”

You beg to differ. It doesn’t matter in any case, what’s done is done. Now you need her in your arms, anger and all, and she needs it too — gently, almost so as not to scare you away into a fit of rage, she kisses you.

You had been silent when she’d told you she missed you, but you had missed her just as desperately. You missed the warmth and security of her beside you as you laid in an empty bed, you missed the novelty of being able to pull her into your arms whenever you wanted and decide it’s where you both would stay for a while. You missed her, in every way, and you were still pissed at her for all she had done to lose you.

Lottie glances around the house when you pull back, trying to determine in her surroundings where the bedroom is. You can see the disapproval etched into her features — this is not her home, this is not the life you have built together.

You can’t, not yet. Too mournful still.

When you pull her back over to the couch, it is a domestic gesture. When you lean against her so that you’re nearly on top of her and gently run a hand through her hair. When her arms wrap around you and you find your gaze trained on the bullet wound and you can’t help but reach out to trace it and know that someday, when the world is less dark and mournful and all of your wounds have scarred, you will kiss it clean of the past.

sexy sexy taglist: @webism @chaithetics @ahauandthesun

reblogs/comments always appreciated! :)

[sunseed-fandump]

Jailhouse Rock

The kids make a new (and very questionable) friend.

AU: Bad Batch Word Count: 3,281

Well, it was official, this was the most awkward moment of Gingerbrave’s life.

The jail cell was a cramped little thing, definitely not something built with the idea of containing more than one prisoner, just like the jailhouse itself didn’t seem to be built with that many criminals in mind, as there was only one cell. He supposed it made sense that a small town in the middle of the desert wouldn’t expect too many criminals stopping by, let alone having the misfortune of all of them being caught at the same time. Yet here they were.

It wasn’t like they had wanted to get caught. This was actually one of the few times they had bothered to keep a low profile. They had stopped into town for supplies on their trip down the Pilgrim’s Path, and figured it would be best for their long journey to conserve their energy. Just get in, grab the stuff, toss the money on the counter, get out. Simple.

Then things got decidedly less simple when a couple of bounty hunters recognized the kids from their wanted posters. (When did those get printed? They looked so cool! Gingerbrave hoped he got to take one home to put up on his bedroom wall.) The scuffle resulted in a lot of property damage, Wizard getting a minor concussion, and all three kids getting hit with tranquilizer darts. Who the hell carries those around? Well, those guys, apparently.

An hour later found the trio waking up disoriented, disarmed, and awaiting transfer to the nearest Kingdom for processing. Oh, and they had a cellmate. A cellmate who seemingly hated their guts if the way she scowled at them from the other side of the tiny cell was any indication.

Resulting in the awkward stare-down that was currently happening. On his right, Wild Strawberry seemingly lost interest and started fidgeting with the drawstrings on her hood. Meanwhile to his left, Wizard had begun muttering something to himself. (A quick glance to the clock on the wall beyond the bars told Gingerbrave they probably had about an hour or two before Wizard started going off the deep-end due to withdrawal from his stupid staff. Gingerbrave couldn’t stand that parasite…)

Luckily, since he was undead, Gingerbrave didn’t have to blink, which meant he could literally stare at this weird angry lady all day if he wanted. He didn’t want to, though, so instead he tried to strike up a conversation.

“So, uh…” He scratched at the stitches on his neck. “What are you in for?”

The cookie’s scowl deepened. She was a spicy cookie if the red hair and strong scent was any indication. Her hair was done up in a ponytail and she had a scar on her forehead. She was dressed in the traditional black-and-white striped outfit one typically associated with criminals. Gingerbrave wondered, when the sheriff came back, if they would be expected to get changed into something similar.

At the cookie’s lack of a response and neither of his friends lending him a hand, Gingerbrave decided to keep talking.

“Right. Anyway, I’m Gingerbrave, and these are my friends Wizard and Wild Strawberry—“ He was cut off by the other cookie’s very clipped response.

“I know who you are.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. It seemed that was all she felt like saying though as any attempt to talk to her earned the boy the cold shoulder.

Gingerbrave eventually figured she was a lost cause, and judging by Wizard starting to rock back and forth from where he was seated, he was beginning to head into the first stages. So it was time to get going.

“Alright, we’re gonna leave now.” Gingerbrave said with a shrug before getting up from his seat and heading over to the front of the cell. He pressed his face up against the bars to get a better view of the hallway. He could just barely make out the sheriff’s office at the end of the hall. No doubt, that’s probably where their stuff was. Judging by how quiet it was, the sheriff was still out doing whatever it was that sheriffs did, which meant Gingerbrave had to be quick.

The boy tested the bars. Solid as a rock and he had neglected to bring any of his stronger arms with him. Unfortunate, but he’d have to work with it.

“Hey, Wizard,” Gingerbrave looked over to the shorter boy, who seemed to briefly snap out of whatever daze he had slipped into. “If I can get you your staff, could you get us out of here?”

“Yes!” He replied way too quickly, before shaking his head and rubbing at his temples. The migraine must have been setting in. “Yes, get me my staff and I can teleport us.”

“Sounds like a plan!” And without any hesitation Gingerbrave grabbed at his forearm just under the stitches on his left elbow, and snapped it off.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” The spicy cookie jumped back, clearly startled; all the color had drained from her face in an instant. All the kids laughed a little at her expense. (Even Strawberry, with a barely restrained ‘pfft!’)

“It’s fine! See?” The severed hand waved at her like nothing was wrong. “Watch this!” He gently set it down to the floor where, with a bit of awkward finagling he got it balanced on its fingers like a spider. He walked his hand out of the cell, slipping it between the bars, and all the cookies watched as it scuttled down the hall towards the office. Gingerbrave scrunched up his face in concentration, leaning the stub of his left arm out of the cell as far as it could go to help keep his hand within range. His spirit could stretch pretty far, but not forever, and he wanted to make sure he had full reign of the office.

Okay, that felt like the office chair. There’s the desk. He poked around a little to the right and hit a wall so maybe if he…

“Does that hurt…?” The spicy cookie’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts briefly and the boy looked over his shoulder at her. Huh, that usually wasn’t the first reaction he got when severing his parts in front of new cookies. Usually it was fear, panic, and accusations of being a dough-eating monster, but this cookie’s initial surprise had melted into an emotion Gingerbrave wasn’t quite familiar with.

“Nah, they were made to come off.” Gingerbrave said with a shrug before turning his attention back to feeling around the distant room. What was that? A bookshelf? Maybe he should try a few paces to the left.

The spicy cookie gave him an assessing look before turning her attention to the other two, specifically Wizard who was looking a little more harrowed than usual. “Yo, shortstack, you good?”

Gingerbrave snorted at the nickname. Oh! That felt like a chest! Maybe their stuff was in there but… it was locked. Rats. Then again, maybe the staff couldn’t fit? Probably best to be thorough.

“I’ll be fine once Gingerbrave gets my staff back.” Wizard said with a harrumph and a mutter of “I’m not short…”

“What’s the hold up? Any longer and Wizard is gonna start getting all freaky.” Strawberry asked, to which Gingerbrave huffed.

“I’m trying!! This would’ve been a lot easier if I was awake when we were brought in. Wizard, tell your stupid staff to be less stupid—!”

‘BANG!’

A screech ripped itself out of Gingerbrave when pain shot through his hand. He flung himself back from the bars, hitting the opposite wall and clutching at his stubby arm as if it would stop the pain. He heard a few exclamations of surprise from the cookies around him along with a horrified scream from down the hall followed by two more gunshots that (thankfully) missed their mark.

The sheriff was back and he just shot Gingerbrave in the hand.

His hand scuttled wildly around the office, blindly bumping into everything in an attempt to get to some kind of cover. Wild Strawberry had gotten up and put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“He shot me…!” Gingerbrave bit out between clenched teeth just as a few more shots rang out, one of them glancing the boy’s dough.

“Screw this.” The spicy cookie flung herself at the cell door and after a few moments it popped open…

Wait, what?

“You could’ve done that this whole time?!” Strawberry voiced what Gingerbrave was in too much pain to say.

“Shut up and move!” Replied the other cookie who sprung out of the cell and down the hall. Wizard was right on her heels, no doubt seeing the opportunity to get his staff and not at all caring about the actively shooting lawman. Wild Strawberry called out to him, cursed under her breath when she was ignored, then grabbed Gingerbrave and hauled him out of the cell to give chase.

They arrived just in time to watch the spicy cookie deliver a round-house kick to the sheriff’s face, sending him flying back and hitting his head on the corner of the bookshelf, knocking him out cold.

“How could a cookie that moves so slow become sheriff? Can’t believe I let myself get caught by this moron…” she tsked and checked his pockets.

“There you are!” Wizard exclaimed happily before flinging himself at his staff that was propped up in an umbrella stand for some weird reason. He scooped it up into his hands, the tension practically melted from his body as he felt the staff’s familiar magic settle once more within his dough. “That fool didn’t shoot you, did he…? No?” He sighed in relief.

Gingerbrave looked at the scene with a small frown, but held his tongue. Instead he focused on trying to find his hand. He experimentally tapped his fingers against the nearest hard surface and cringed at the pain blossoming from his fresh wounds.

Wild Strawberry Cookie got down on her knees and checked under the desk when she heard tapping, sure enough, there was Gingerbrave’s hand with a bullet wound in it. “Got it.” She pulled it out and held it up for her friend to take, who cradled it close to his chest. “I’ll get the extra icing stitches from my backpack and we can stitch everything up.”

“No time.” Wild Strawberry jumped when her backpack and lollipop were shoved into her arms by the spicy cookie. She had picked the sheriff’s pockets clean, gotten the keys to the chest in the corner, and cleaned that out too. She strapped a belt around her waste and clipped two daggers to her side. “All that ruckus is gonna have the whole town coming down on top of us. Pointy hat, if you got magic I suggest you start using it!”

“My name is Wizard–!” The small boy’s correction was cut off by the glass of the window shattering in front of him.

“GET DOWN!” She grabbed Gingerbrave and Strawberry and pulled them behind the desk. Wizard, who had been a bit further away, joined them shortly after just as a hail of bullets poured in through both windows and the open front door. “Unless you wanna have more holes than swiss cheese then I suggest you get us out of here!!”

Wizard growled, but instead of snapping at her, he focused on the vocal components of a well-practiced spell. A magic circle appeared beneath the group of cookies and in a flash they were gone. One moment they were hiding under a desk, the next they were on top of a bluff overlooking the town. The gunshots, once deafening, were nothing but an echo on the rocks at this distance.

The spicy cookie stumbled, not used to the sensation of being teleported around, caught herself, and then let out a huge ‘WOO!’

“Wow! What a day!” She exclaimed with a sigh of relief.

“Tell me about it…” Wild Strawberry muttered as she dug into her backpack and pulled out the icing stitches. “Yo, Gingerbrave, let’s get your arm back on.”

“Y-Yeah…” The other boy hissed, allowing himself to be guided over to a rock and took a seat.

“That was some nice quick-casting there, pointy hat!” The spicy cookie went to pat Wizard on the back, but paused. “Oh, right, I’m supposed to be mad at you guys…” She pondered this for a moment before shaking her head with a laugh and then patting him anyway. “Ah, but it’s hard to stay mad after such a fun jailbreak! Definitely one of my favorite ones yet!”

“Who even are you?” Wizard Cookie turned on her, giving her an absolutely baffled look as he adjusted his hat.

“And, uh, why are you mad at us?” Gingerbrave called over, trying to remain as still as possible while Strawberry worked. It wasn’t like they weren’t used to being scorned by most, if not all, of Crispia, but this strange cookie’s anger seemed rather out of left field. The spicy cookie reared back, as if offended by this line of questioning.

“You mean you guys don’t recognize me?! Seriously? And here I thought you were supposed to be big shots…” She reached into her pocket and produced a rolled up piece of paper which was quickly revealed to be a wanted poster that she unraveled with a proud flourish. “The name’s Chili Pepper Cookie and I’m the best thief in the world! There’s nothing on Earthbread I can’t steal.”

“Whoa! Look at that bounty!” Gingerbrave gasped at the sight of all the zeroes. “But… Uh… What does that have to do with being mad at us?”

“Because!” She rolled the paper back up and jabbed a finger at the trio. “Your collective bounties are higher than MINE! How am I supposed to go down in history if I’m being outclassed by a bunch of twerps?!”

Wizard Cookie sputtered indignantly at this revelation. Wild Strawberry stared at her, thoroughly unimpressed. Gingerbrave, however, burst into laughter.

“That’s what all of this was about!?” He cackled a few moments, clutching his aching gut, before settling down and saying breathily, “You’re a weird cookie. I like you!”

“If you want our bounties, you can have them! They’re what got us into trouble in the first place!” Wizard huffed.

Chili Pepper tilted her head, fixing them with a weird look. “Wait, you mean to tell me you aren’t in this for the infamy? Guess that’s why I haven’t seen you around the usual haunts rubbing your status in everyone's faces. You’re totally out of the loop!” She brightened, as if this revelation was both a massive relief and a big joke at the same time.

“Yeah we’re… not really interested in whatever weird crime competition this is.” Wild Strawberry Cookie shook her head as she finished up Gingerbrave’s stitches and stashed the spool into her bag. “If anything those bounties make reaching our goal harder…”

Chili Pepper Cookie looked at her as if she had grown a second head. “What could a group of kids like you want so badly you land bounties that put you in the criminal elite?”

“We’re going to steal the Soul Jam to free the world!” Gingerbrave proudly announced, jumping to his feet, he was already feeling a lot better now that his wounds were stitched up.

“A world without judgement!” Wizard added with a nod.

“And lawlessness…” Wild Strawberry muttered.

Chili Pepper Cookie gave the three children a thoughtful expression, putting a hand to her chin with a little ‘huh…’ before shooting a wide grin at the kids. “Well, I’m not sure about half of that, but I can definitely get behind the stealing and lawlessness parts! Are those Soul Jam things shiny?”

“They are incredibly powerful magical artifacts that have the capability of changing the world as we know it!” Wizard rattled off. When Chili Pepper gave him a blank look, he sighed and said, “And they’re shiny, yes.”

“Hey, I have an idea,” Gingerbrave cut in with a wide smile. “Chili Pepper Cookie, why don’t you come with us?” He got a mixed reaction of surprise and confusion from the cookies around him. Wizard Cookie and Wild Strawberry Cookie knew that Gingerbrave didn’t just extend offers like this to just anyone. He might have been the more chipper and outgoing of their group, but he didn’t trust others so easily. He must have really liked something Chili Pepper did or said to even think about such a proposal.

“You want me to come with you? Why?” Chili Pepper was just as confused as Gingerbrave’s friends. She couldn’t imagine them wanting her around after she gave them the silent treatment back in the jail cell.

“You seem fun.” Was Gingerbrave’s simple reply. “You helped us get out of that jail cell when you really didn’t have to. Plus, if you travel with us, I’m sure your bounty will sky rocket! And we could use the world’s greatest thief on our team!”

Chili Pepper Cookie seriously considered his proposal for a minute. When she had first heard about them and their rapid climbing of the leaderboard, she had thought they were nothing but a bunch of punk kids who wanted to be rowdy and cause trouble. Now she could see though, they had bigger plans than just topping the charts of the Underworld. She could appreciate such a large ambition.

Besides they didn’t seem to be jamthirsty monsters like all the rumors said they were. They were just… weird. The criminal underworld had plenty of downright monstrous folks who Chili Pepper tried not to associate with, but she could tell, these kids didn’t seem heartless. Mischievous, yes. Troubled? Absolutely. But not heartless.

“You know what?” Chili Pepper grinned. “I’ll think about it. But for right now, I got a job I need to finish.”

“A job?” Wild Strawberry asked just as Chili Pepper turned to walk towards the cliff that overlooked the town.

“Yeah? Do you think the greatest thief in the world would screw up and get arrested in a nothing town like this?” She gestured to the settlement below. “I let myself get caught! The train they were gonna put us on has a massive safe full of gems. I was gonna bust out of my cuffs mid-transfer and clean it out! But now I guess I gotta do it the good old fashioned way…”

Gingerbrave once again laughed, giving Chili Pepper a sharp grin. “Well, if you decide you wanna join up, head to the Bear Jelly Village in the Land of Little Big Dreams! There’s a cookie there who’ll point you in the right direction.” With that he raised a hand in farewell. “Good luck, Chili Pepper Cookie!”

Chili Pepper gave the kids a mock salute. “See you around, stitches! Make sure you stay out of any more jail cells, punks!” With that she jumped over the side as nimble as an acrobat, and out of sight.

“Well, that was certainly… interesting.” Wizard sighed, before clutching his stomach. “But we failed to get any supplies, and teleporting us this far has made me famished…”

“Right… I forgot about that…” Gingerbrave’s brow furrowed. Should they try heading back into town and risking getting arrested again? Did they push forward and hoped they reach the next town before they starved? He didn’t really know much about hunting or foraging, but he doubted they’d be able to sustain themselves with much in this sugar-free wasteland.

“Hey, look!” Wild Strawberry pointed further up the main road where the kids could see a huge cloud of dust being kicked up. “I think that’s a caravan.”

All three kids stared at it for a long moment.

“Welp!” Gingerbrave clapped his hands together. “Fellas, it’s time to commit robbery!”

“YEAH!!” Strawberry and Wizard raised their respective weapons into the air, excited at the prospect of getting some food in their stomachs. With that, the trio ran off to intercept those travelers.

From the bottom of the cliff, Chili Pepper watched the kids disappear. She lingered for a moment, deep in thought…

‘CHOO CHOOOOOOO!’

The thief turned on her heel and raced towards the tracks. Their paths would cross again someday, but for now, she has a train to catch.

[ballroomblitzzzz]

Okay I know this post is already super long but I've thought about it a ton and I feel like I didn't properly get across everything I was trying to say (even after editing the shit out of it).

So I wanna talk more about the idea that sorcery is a metaphor for goodness. And you're probably like CHRIST how many metaphors will this guy waffle on about, but hear me out okay.

So Glinda can fake being good as much as she can fake having magical powers. People will love her regardless of what's real, which is fundamentally what she wants, to be liked. But she also desperately wants sorcery AND to genuinely be good, she wants it to be real.

So Elphaba giving her the Grimerie I guess is sort of her way of telling Glinda to never stop trying to be good.

And of course (as is one of the main points of like all of the book and musical) goodness and wickedness are entirely subjective and far more about perception. So I'm in no way saying that portraying Glinda as having no powers proves that she's actually evil. Because... No.

It's all about perspective. To the rest of Oz, Glinda has magic and she is the embodiment of everything good in the world. But to Glinda herself, she's powerless without using other people and so she believes she's wicked. But she'll never stop trying to be good, for Elphaba yes, but also because that's just the person she's always wanted to be.

But speaking of, let's talk about Elphaba for a second. (And I know this started as an analysis of Glinda's character, but you really can't talk about one without the other.)

Because if we take the idea that magic is goodness, then that means a witch should be very embodiment of it. That every time Elphaba uses sorcery, it's pure and just. So it makes sense that in the scene where she's training with Morrible, she can't levitate the coin until she thinks about what happened to Dr Dillamond. Because she can only use her magic when she's fighting a cause. When she's doing good.

Which is exactly why Morrible and the Wizard can't use her. And if sorcery is goodness, then what better way to try and take away someone's power than to make them wicked.

Because of course, in a corrupt system what's more dangerous than someone good having power. And this isn't exactly a new or even particularly perceptive take, but god it makes me angry. (Especially considering recent politics)

But anyway, all this means is that No Good Deed is gonna hit a lot harder now and I truly cannot WAIT to see it performed when part two comes out.

Thanks again for listening to me waffle on about these witches with clumsy attempts at making eloquent points. And please tell me if you have any more thoughts about this, or really just any thoughts about these characters, I mean it all feeds the same obsession.

So I've been doing a lot of thinking recently, about wicked, because of course it's about wicked.

Specifically Glinda and her relationship to sorcery. (Hold tight this one's gonna be a whole ass essay) I find it interesting that the film really tries to make it clear that she has, not just little power, but none at all.

Because in the book she does have magic! Like there's this great scene where her, Nessa and Elphaba are talking about sorcery and she explodes a sandwich in their faces to prove a point.

This isn't relevant at all I just really like the scene. Point is, book Glinda's magic ain't too shabby. And in the musical (unfortunately I've only seen it once so apologies if I've read this wrong) I kinda saw it as she did have magic, but just didn't really get good at it before act 2. But in the film it's clear she doesn't have any. Like in NOMTW she pushes a pedal to make the bubble instead of using her wand, similar to how the wizard uses mechanics to fake sorcery. So why is it different? I hear you ask.

Well my curious child, I'll come to that in a minute (promise) right NOW I wanna talk about why Glinda wants magic in the first place.

And this is something that's had me stumped for a while, I mean it's not like she needs it. She can easily get whatever she wants from social manipulation, and yet it's still her heart's desire to become a sorceress.

And it's SUCH a big part of her character that couldn't just go around not being able to answer that question now could I?? And guys I think I figured it out.

So she's always been jealous of Elphaba, right? Right. And the thing about Elphaba that she envies, is that she's powerful without having to rely on other people. Glinda doesn't have that. She gets to the top because people like her. She said it herself, 'its not about aptitude it's the way you're viewed'. She knows the way to truly succeed is to make sure that you're liked. And she's very good at that, so she doesn't need sorcery, and YET she wants it. And to me this proves that Glinda hates the reason that she's liked. She wants people to love her for what she can do, not for the shallow persona she presents. She wants to have a power all to herself. She doesn't want to need people. She wants to be the kind of person who hops on a broom and overthrows the government at the drop of a hat (pun intended) but that's not who she is.

Of course she doesn't go with Elphaba. Elphaba can be strong on her own but without the public on her side Glinda is powerless.

And just think it's soooo fucking interesting how Elphaba and Glinda's different kinds of power can be seen as just another metaphor for their sense of self. Because Elphaba has had to trust herself, to have a strong enough identity to know that she's better than what people say. But Glinda's entire identity and self worth are tied to what people think of her, she's only as good as people say.

So of course she doesn't go with her.

But here's where she changes (for good hehe). And of course, it's down to Elphaba. Because Elphaba has always believed that Glinda is powerful outside of other people. And, back to sorcery now because yes that is what I started talking about, it's Elphaba who invites her to sorcery class, it's Elphaba who asks Glinda to come and meet the wizard with her, it's Elphaba who asks her to come with her in defying gravity and (SPOILERS FOR PART TWO!!) its Elphaba who gives her the Grimerie. Because Elphaba has always believed Glinda was strong even when she wasn't.

Glinda always wanted to be a sorceress but it was only Elphaba who had faith that she could do it. And this is what makes Elphaba giving her the Grimerie so symbolic and so, so fucking sad. Because Elphaba's showing her that she's better than she thinks, she just going like 'hey, you got this'. And srhstjdyfkvhlvukflyyc. And so the way Glinda's viewed doesn't change at all, but the way she sees herself does, and so don't mind me while I go cry in a corner.

And you know maybe all this was obvious to literally everybody who watched the film and I've just mansplained lesbianism to everyone but I just really needed to write this down because I've been going insane about wicked and I can't shut up about it.

Because DUDE all these characters are so COMPLEX I just wanna peel them all like ONIONS, but oh BOY does it make my eyes water.

[ribbonsfallaway]

I keep making post after post venting about how this show, especially this last part of the show was handled, and I want to make one from maybe a more rationally explained side.

Look I get the argument, "the show started with Johnny and Miguel, so it should end with them." As much as it makes me roll my eyes into the back of my head I do understand. However that doesn't mean Robby isn't important. Despite what some fans and the writers want us to believe.

I'd get if they had Miguel win at the end cause he's this gen's "Karate Kid", that's fine. My issue lies in the fact that Robby isn't allowed one win. Not just in a tournament sense, but in a personal sense. The show starts off with Johnny being a deadbeat loser father and Robby being the victim of him being a drunken deadbeat loser father. I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, but it's the truth. And the thing is to me Johnny didn't really try with Robby to be a better father. Sure you can spin he "tried", and Robby was "stubborn" but every time he did try and Robby fought him on it, Johnny fought back, and didn't actually allow his son to be angry. At least not to him. Sure he'd cry to Carmen, Miguel, etc., about how much of a screw up he was. Still somehow painting himself as a victim in all of this. But he never stated how much he messed up really with the one person who deserved it the most, and needed it the most. Robby. His son. Because I feel as much as Robby gave Johnny shit, the moments he had the door open for him… He just fucked up. Like I do feel like there was a doorway after the s1 tournament in early-s2. Robby very much expressed how you know he is trying, but it's going to take time. Instead of respecting this and instead of Johnny saying he'd try and gets it, he fights back that "he gets he screwed up" but he doesn't have to hang with Daniel. Daniel by the way being the one at this time to actually try and be there for Robby, and be a father figure to him. So Robby snaps back. That for some reason is the only thing people can focus on, and "poor Johnny!" for how "Robby speaks to him." Which… Whatever.

In season 3, there are a couple doors open for Johnny. That once more he messes up. When he's supposed to visit Robby at juvie after the school fight, and once more chooses Miguel over him. Just as he had been the first 2 seasons. Even after that when Johnny does go visit him Robby once more actually has some leeway with him here, he's upset at first but when he sees a somewhat efford on Johnny's end he relents and is accepting. It isn't until Robby finds out Johnny once more ditched him for Miguel that things blow up. And Johnny doesn't try to apologize on this end, he just pretty much places all blame on Robby for that, and yeah Robby fucked up badly during the school fight but really isn't rewarded the nuance of it I feel? And all the elements that went into that day, and fight. Except from Kreese really, and that's a whole other thing. That will just make this post longer.

And Johnny sure as shit didn't try in season 4 after Robby joined Cobra Kai. The scene at his apartment does not count at all because it was Robby who went there, and Johnny just tried to lecture him instead of inviting him in to talk things out. But whatever, and somehow at the end of the season somehow Johnny is miraculously forgiven despite doing not a thing to earn it. And see this is what bugged me here that it was Robby the child who had to let go of the anger, and not Johnny the 50-something year old adult man who had to earn it. And after that their relationship is all healed and after this Robby is never allowed to complain again because when he was justifiably angry the show punished him for it, and made it his problem. Not Johnny's.

So we have this aspect of it all of Robby not being chosen first ever by Johnny or anyone in his life frankly, because yeah Shannon went to rehab for him, and got better but we're not allowed to really see that. Hell maybe that would have made things a bit better. That we saw Robby had Shannon on his side, and would start choosing him.

We didn't get his relationship with Daniel really repaired. Yes they're on good terms but God I would have really loved to see them make up. The show loves to harp on how important Johnny and Miguel are, but frankly IMHO I feel Johnny and Daniel are just as important, and while I never truly was able to be on board with Johnny and Miguel I loved Daniel and Robby because Daniel for a time gave Robby what he needed until that blew to hell and the writers just brushed over them as if they weren't important.

We have this personal part of Robby's life to where he's never chosen once by anyone, and some I get, but others I can not accept. But it's Miguel who Johnny always picks over him. And in part 2 of this season a scene that also should have happened with Johnny and Robby only was reserved for Johnny and Miguel. Hell what I find worse is we never once see Johnny apologize to Robby and explain it was never him that was the problem, it was Johnny and he regrets how much he hurt him. What we do get is somehow Robby in this part of the season happy karate came into his life cause it gave him Johnny. Despite you know Johnny not doing a thing to earn it. Sorry I will die on this hill.

And I think this is what makes Robby fans upset about him losing at the end. Because maybe if in the past he was allowed one win, or if the writers spent half as much time on Johnny and Robby as they did Johnny and Miguel and validated Robby's feelings it would be OK. If the show showed us how important Robby was to the people in his iife and valued for that it would be OK. But we don't even get that. Not really.

And sure Robby gets a "good ending" but it felt shoehorned in to appease fans so Cobra Kai could come out on top.

And listen I get the show is called "Cobra Kai" but I could get into another rant about why just because the show is called Cobra Kai doesn't mean they always need to be the winners.

So really it's not in just a physical sense Robby never gets to win, it's in a personal sense, and on all that he's never allowed to be upset about it without the narrative framing him as in the wrong, or punishing him for it. Robby is truly never validated in any sense in this series, and as a fan it's frustrating to watch.

[actual-changeling]

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

———

she's always let her guard down too easily around him. it takes only a week for the memory of saltwater and bleach to pass, and while she doesn't forget about what he said in the hospital, she no longer expects him to repeat it.

a one-time mistake, an untimely confession they have both silently agreed to leave behind. he chose the possibly worst moment to confess to her, and she wanted to hear it—still does, if she's being honest with herself—but not like this. not in the aftermath of death and adrenaline when she's barely holding herself together.

and, foolishly, she assumed mulder would realize that, at the very least, and give her what she needs: space.

she was wrong.

the cup of too-bitter diner coffee in her hands is almost empty, and she tries (and fails) not to enjoy that he's paying attention to what she's saying, trusting that she knows her science, trusting her. after months of petty doubts about her integrity as both a person and an agent, the weight on her chest is finally beginning to lift.

without an isolated office, they search for anonymity in the masses and tend to find it, usually right in the middle of a busy diner. they should get to work soon, but his eyes on her face keep her sitting.

"once we're finished reading through the reports, skinner wants to talk to us." she idly taps her nails against the ceramic and lets her gaze wander while she speaks without any urgency. outside, colours flicker and faces blur, and it's almost soothing to watch, like a river that never stops running. "i think—"

"scully?" mulder interrupts just loud enough for her to hear, and she should sense the weight in his voice, but she looks right past it. she knows she shouldn't and does it anyway, simply to keep the bubble from being popped for a few more precious seconds.

seconds that tick and tick and tick as she faces him. she had lowered her walls too quickly, hadn't she? once more, she doesn't see it coming, doesn't want to see it coming, and this time it's half her fault for forgiving him—for trusting that he would not shatter the fragile peace settling between them. for trusting him despite knowing better.

"yes?" she looks at him, almost innocently, and she feels lighter than she has in weeks for one last moment.

time runs out.

"i love you." easily, like he has said it before, like she's used to hearing it, like it's world-changing and trivial. not like they're both making the same mistake twice.

there's no fall.

scully hits the ground, paralysed from the initial impact, and he's still staring at her with wide eyes and a hint of a smile. all heat leaves her body as the air is knocked out of her, and a painful current tingles through her limbs when she slams the cup down on the table. it doesn't break, and she barely resists the urge to throw it against the wall.

she stands up. she burns.

bright, angry, a spark of hurt igniting her skin that's starved for touch, for kindness, but not like this. not when she knows he will watch her burn and blame her for becoming a shadow of smoke and ash. her mouth tastes like salted bleach.

mulder's smile slips, his voice dipping into something that's not quite disappointment—not yet. confusion.

he dares to be confused, and she doesn't have anywhere to put the pain. her hands curl into fists, her nails dig into her skin, and she simply stares at him with white knuckles and blood coating her palms.

why? remains stuck in her throat. she knows he doesn't know, probably hasn't even considered it. why say it again? why hold a lit match to her and wait until she catches on fire?

why, why why, why?

(because she lets him. he doesn't realize that, either.)

"scully?"

she's afraid if she opens her mouth, she will do nothing but scream, so she grits her teeth, locks her jaw, and runs.

(she lets him follow her.

it's the only thing she knows how to do.)

———

writing while super tired is seldom a good idea but have more messy angst anyway. i should really just write the whole damn fic at this point.

[cc-tens]

hi !! i saw the oc ask game ehe. how about 12 for wyren and yeong-ja? always intrigued to see the music people think fits their guys and i love them very much. (also. prommy i'm doodling oc stuff to show u but. taking a while. sorry 😔)

(Lol no rush dude, focus on feeling better first and foremost /gen)

12. Do you have a playlist for the character? What songs do you associate with them and why?

So I'm one of those people who thinks A LOT about playlists for OCs lol. I sadly haven't had a ton of time recently to do a deep dive into building playlists for these two, but I have a few songs thus far and will link their actual playlists later on when I feel like they're more substantially filled out. So here's just a few stand outs for now.

Wyren (stuff I really think both they'd listen to and also is applicable to their story)

- Want To Be Free by Sea Power

I like to think this song sort of encapsulates Wyren's poorly mental and emotional state with the sad tones, heavy melancholy and the repetition of the line "I want to be free." Post O66 Wyren especially experiences this desire to be free of the Jedi life, any sort of responsibility or burden on him to fight back, and even at times their desire to give up guardianship of Yeong-Ja in order to allow her to live a normal teen girl life with a real family (and so they can find a little space to curl up and die).

- Let Down by Radiohead

Let Down is in a ton of my OC's playlists, it's my current song on repeat. I think it also portrays Wyren's sense of helplessness and their constant discomfort and the life they've chosen to live and the regret they have for allowing themself to constantly be squashed down and made helpless.

- Hebrews 11:40 by The Mountain Goats

Post Order 66 vibes. I'd like to think this is around the time or after they reconnect with Dover and meet the resistance; and this is also when they find Triu again. I think this is a song in which Wyren decides to be brave again, to try and be a Jedi once more. They're afraid and they don't want to do it, but they will for these kids and their love to keep them safe.

- Fourth of July

Obligatory Sufjan Steven's song. This is specifically in here for the arc where Wyren thought Dover was killed.

Yeong-Ja (music thus far is just stuff that reminds me of her so it's sort of jumbled in terms of genre but makes sense to me)

- Abbey by Mitski

Obligatory Mitski song. I think this song I'm picking due to her constant battle with the darkside. Wyren noted midway through the war she feels so angry and strongly, and her desire to protect those she sees as her own has her sometimes lashing out and acting too extremely. After O66 too, she definitely goes through a period where the darkside calls to her to give her more power but she keeps trying to deny it even though it feels like denying a pit of the stomach deep hunger

- Not Strong Enough by Phoebe Bridgers

As is Yeong-Ja's fear. She won't ever be strong enough to protect her master, her friends or her clone brothers. Her greatest fear is not being able to prevent their leaving.

- Not by Big Thief

Idk lol

- Sun Bleached Flies by Ethel Cain

Idk why I really wanted to add this to her playlist. I think the lines "that's how my daddy raised me, if they strike once you hit them twice as hard" is so her and Wyren especially post O66 getting their collective shit together. I think also "God loves you but not enough to save you....if it's meant to be then it will be" is her lines of accepting the Force isn't always going to be this all powerful thing on her side just because she's a good person. I think before a lot of her anger at the Force was feeling like it did nothing to help her despite her attempts to be a good person; but post O66 and after some healing she finally gets it. I also think the lines if it's meant to be it will be is her relinquishing her iron grip on needing to keep everyone alive and with her and understanding loss whether forever or temporary is inevitable and that's ok.

[storywestistrash]

watched mouthwashing finally. the fact that i saw people be more aggressive towards curly than jimmy is kinda strange. kinda real weird

[transmechanicus]

Really fucked up that two ppl can care about each other and make their best efforts to communicate and still end up hurting each other so badly they cannot stand to be in the same room.

[kerizaret]

In case you haven't noticed May has sucked for me so far, anyway *projects onto blorbo*

[headfullof-ideas]

Some more headcanon-drawings…things…i have doodles

I actually had these done for a while now, just…never posted them. Idk why. Im trying to get some drawing done today, though for whichever project it’s for, I don’t know

[narutotravesties]

Sometimes you glimpse a character who barely shows up but has such tantalizing implications and possibility of depth that it haunts you forever

[maliciousalice]

Hear me out (or don't... it's fine I'm just venting and mean) yeah um I don't believe Chakotay was saved in Prod*gy s2.

[umihoshi]

7 Deadly Sins is so unappolagetically cringe and whimsy. It's like introducing your friends to your cat who you love so so much, cuz he's silly and funny and actually really smart. but objectively, it's the ugliest critter you will ever see.

[wormtoxin]

updated personas/subroutines: (disclaimer: i still don’t think im plural, sorry)

Pepper/Clover: the main one, not even one of the subroutines really, just the blank slate object which all the others act upon. The physical body. The only persona recognized by society.

Autopilot: the regular forms and functions of being a human being. Wake up, brush teeth, go to class, come home, go to sleep. Sometimes one of the others sneaks in and replaces it without my notice, especially when I’m talking to other people, and I don’t care for that shit at all. Routine.

Rambles: Vile little subroutine that makes my mouth move well before my brain. Sometimes I feel like I’m going on and on and I can’t stop. I don’t like conversation much because having to talk necessitates Rambles and then I feel totally out of control and I hate it. Objectively this one has its uses but it’s also my least favorite.

The Wretch: Self-loathing subroutine. Convinced it’s a worthless fuckup and probably correct. Self-sacrificing while being selfish, apologetic while seeking sympathy, paradoxically victim and passive-aggressor. The worst of both worlds. I actually put a lot of time and effort into being properly accountable the way a human being should be, but sometimes i get overemotional and I spiral and that part’s The Wretch i think.

The Doll: Control, poise, perfection, submission, obedience. Maybe if it’s perfect we can get it right this time. If it’s just perfect then nobody can criticize it. Next time it’ll get it. Never does. Masking, I think? Maybe some kind of fucked up anti-masking? Can’t keep this one up for long. Wishes it could just be quiet for once and let our actions speak for themselves, but people keep trying to talk to it, and it inevitably slips away. Probably used it more when I was working.

The Dog: Playing, eating, sleeping, rolling, getting off, singing and drawing. Simple bodily expressions. Not so bright. This one doesn’t get much of an outlet. Kind of a lump, occasionally whipped into shape by expectation. I actually kinda like being this one but it’s impossible when being perceived by another human being. The most invisible persona of them all. Immoral (amoral?) and therefore unsustainable long-term

The Magician: Doing, studying, creating, dressing, presenting. A self-styled scholar. Flashy and stylish and confident. Would describe itself as “dark academia” or something similarly edgy-but-trendy. Work and school romanticized, transmogrified into an exciting fantasy. Useful for being productive.

The Witch: Free of responsibility to society or others or ethics. A heartbreaker maneater homewrecker bitch. A natural disaster. An expression not of individuality or self, but force and violence. Claiming anything it wants by any means necessary and destroying everything in its path. Selfish to the core. Chained up in a basement somewhere. It exists but it’s cruel and it sucks so I never ever let it out. But I like to remember it’s there. A trump card, a concealed weapon. Break glass in case of emergency. I feel the shape of its outline like a knife stashed in a boot and I know I could use it if I ever needed it.

Honorable Mentions:

Poetics: Playing with sounds, words, grammar, languages, ideas until they sound musical and pleasing. Etymology research, vocabulary buff, eidetic memory for certain words and phrases, but only when they sound “right”. Possibly used for all five senses, or possibly shares overlap with Composition (visual) and Kinesthetics (touch)

Faux Marxism: Self-righteous understanding of the dialectical materialist view of history. Used mostly for impassioned speeches at inopportune moments (Rambles) or in response to perceived political threats. Poetics and Faux Marxism are both very invested in learning as much vocabulary, history, languages, and multiculturalism as possible, but for very different reasons.

Horndog: you could take all of sexuality and sprinkle it across all the other different subroutines, OR you could concentrate it into one horrible little guy.

Puzzles: The subroutine that just will NOT let a problem go until it’s solved. Character designs, meaningless research inquiries, computer software. Very very very very rarely, actual assigned tasks. The Magician wants what Puzzles has.

Hibernation: Comfy cozy blanket pillow sweater cuddle nap pile. Memorized the rhythms of the winter hibernation episodes of Tanoshii Moomin Ikka and plays them in a loop continually year-round. This one might be straight-up biological. I think I might have a vitamin deficiency.

Fog: The squishy slouchy sweaty medium that fills up whatever psychic dream space all the other personas occupy. There used to be a sense of “me” but it got covered up by all the fog what seems like years ago. That sense of wholeness, control, totality, unification. It existed once. I like to think it’s still out there, somewhere, if I just get my meds right or get enough sleep and if I can just synthesize all the others maybe I can feel “like myself” again. But all the fog covers it up. Memory issues. Whenever I get a sudden moment of clarity, and I realize I’ve been one of the more loathsome subroutines, someone I don’t recognize, I’ll have just stumbled out of the fog. Always comes with a feeling of “Why did I just say that?” Or, “What did I just say?”. Dissociation, maybe???

????: see previous. The negative space that fills everything else in. I don’t even know whether to call this one “Selfhood” or “Synthesis” or “Control” or “Autonomy” or …”Me”. That’s probably most appropriate but it feels like too foreign a word to make sense of. Whatever was here once got swallowed up by the fog, and I don’t know what it is anymore. If it was here I think I could feel like a present sensor and agent in my own life again. This is probably what people expect out of “Pepper” or “Clover”, the flagship of the armada, the face and voice of the operation. I don’t know where that person is. All the subroutines (personas?) are trying to emulate her, stall for time until she comes back. She might not ever be coming back. We might be all we have.

[shiryawashere]

you ever miss your comfort character so bad you gotta go outside about it