#but I’m also this emotional wreck bc I want to freeze time right now

[thelovelesslesbian]

I’m laying down to sleep and I can hear them upstairs still chatting in their bedroom and I’m just trying not to full on SOB with how happy and peaceful and blessed I feel at this moment. the highlight of my otherwise challenging 2024 has been having this sleepover with my favorite lesbian couple in their 80s. trying to actively cement all of this in my brain even more than usual because this is going to be pure serotonin to draw on. I just love them beyond fucking words.

[solsolace]

no bc- i just read “snowball” and cuddly childe + winter/cold + his family has found its way into my hard and now i’m in need of comfort scenarios now that it’s so cold pls 😭 if you want ofc! this is just a suggestion as a very touch starved reader and fan of ur work :,)!!

home for the holidays

✧ synopsis: [fluff] headcanons and drabbles; childe brings you to his home for the holiday season :) ✧ ft. childe x gn!reader (+some of childe’s family!) ✧ warnings: slightly suggestive towards the end but nothing serious, mentions of food, spoilers for childe’s real name ✧ a/n: not super wintery, but i'm in the mood for family bonding and cuddles; i hope this is alright!! (sorry it took me forever to get to this btw lmao)

»»————-　 ✦ 　————-««

✧ okay, so, harbingers don’t really get time off- including for the holidays, buuuut- childe was finally given a chance to oversee some recruits in snezhnaya, and it just so happens to line up with the holiday season, aaaand… well, he can handle some work and still get to see his family, right? right, of course, he is tartaglia after all, there’s nothing he can’t do!! ✧ plus… he’s managed to convince you to come along with him. so, it’s like he’s killing three birds with one stone! hell yeah!

✧ as eager as he is, childe can’t help but feel oddly anxious about bringing you to meet his family for the first time (despite the fact that he has been begging you to come to snezhnaya with him ever since you two have gotten together. and probably way before that, too. he’s just been very excited to share the part of himself that isn’t completely tainted by the abyss and fatui with you) ✧ he’s aware that they’re going to love you, of course-why wouldn’t they?- but what if you don’t like them? what if his siblings annoy you (or worse, embarrass him) or his parents say something offputting? he adores you, but he doesn’t know if he could handle you and his family not getting on. ✧ though, if he’s nervous, you’re an emotional wreck, whether you show it or not. childe’s told you about his family before, and the fond smile and sparkle in his eyes when he thinks of them has always made your heart flutter- they sound so sweet. you’re excited, but perhaps a bit too eager to please. you’ve spent a lot of your time recently trying to find clothing and supplies that will both protect you from snezhnaya’s freezing temperature while also giving the impression of “really-good-partner-for-your-son-please-accept-me.” oh archons, you really hope that they approve of you. ✧ both of your worries are quickly swept away when you reach his family home-more of a manor if we’re being honest, the lad is rich and he keeps his mf family taken CARE of and one of childe’s sister’s opens the door before squealing happily and calling out for the rest of the family. ✧ childe’s mother absolutely gives you the biggest, warmest hug in the entire world- definitely hugs you first before hugging her son. she might also cry; it’s been a while since she’s gotten to see him in person, and look! he’s so grown up now! he even has a lovely partner!! :’((!!! she has chosen pointedly to not count being a harbinger as maturing. ✧ it’s honestly quite lively for the first few hours of your visit; the younger ones are bouncing around you in their excitement, the older siblings are discussing new happenings with childe (and teasing him about you, of course), childe’s mother is rushing around trying to clean their already very nice house, and childe’s father is… absent. he did not come down to greet you or his son. ✧ if you start to feel overwhelmed, childe is quick to notice, and will usher you to a different room away from everyone else for a bit to make sure you’re okay.

Childe tells his family he’s going to give you a “tour of the house”, taking you by the hand and leading you down the hall before anyone can say anything. He takes you to what must be a study, walls lined with bookshelves (save for the space where a stuffed bear head is mounted on the wall) and a desk in front of the window. Outside, the snow is blowing across the frosted ground in swirling clouds, a frozen howl echoing against the glass.

“You alright?” He asks, pushing to close the door behind him. You nod, working on maintaining control of your breathing. Childe’s hand reaches to brush just in between your shoulders, tentative at first, but as you lean into his touch, he snakes his entire arm across your back and pulls you into his side. He lets you recline against him, allowing you to take however much time you need to calm down. Ever so faintly, you can hear the relaxing rhythm of his pulse mixing with the winds outside.

Once you’ve been grounded and are feeling a bit better, you move from his arms to sit atop of the desk. There’s not much you need to brush aside, though you do spot an interesting paper reading, “Gifts for the kids”. You try to spot Childe’s name, curious about what his family would get him, but a clear of his throat summons your attention before you can.

“So…” He starts, taking a step toward you. His eyes wander away from you, and there’s an air of feigned nonchalance that you’ve come to know all too well.

“Sooo?” You mimic.

“Are they… My family, I mean, do you…?”

He’s cute when he’s stumbling over his words, you think. It’s rather rare for your boyfriend’s smarmy, talkative ass to be at a loss of what to say. You know Childe really values your opinion, but is worried about it at the same time.

“Your family is wonderful, ‘jax.” You smile reassuringly, and his eyes light up. “They’re a bit excitable and energetic, but… I like it. They remind me of you.”

Now you’ve done it; Childe immediately descends upon you to steal a kiss, causing you to laugh a bit at how abrupt he is. His kisses are excitable and energetic, just like his family, just like him.

You two are, however, interrupted by a chorus of “Ooo”s, “Eww”s and “Aww”s. You both part early, glancing over at the door to see his little siblings' pairs of eyes peeking through the doorway, watching your antics in amusement. Childe narrows his eyes at them while your composure flusters, before he puts his lips back on yours. The children shriek with giggles as they scurry off, chanting some Snezhnayan version of “kissing in a tree.”

✧ when the two of you return from your, ahem, departure, you notice a tall, tired looking man in the living room. childe’s mom is discussing something with him in hushed, adamant tones, falling silent when she spots you. the once vibrant atmosphere in the room seems to have vanished. childe’s hand stiffens against yours, but his gaze remains steady. the other man does not speak, merely allowing his eyes to wander from Childe, to you, and then back to Childe. He gives a small nod, before turning to kiss childe’s mother on the forehead and leaving through the front door. ah. that must have been childe’s father. ✧ you want to say something, ask about what the hell that was, but his mother prevents you from speaking with a cheerful announcement that dinner will be served soon. she’s already making her way to the kitchen as she calls childe to come and help set up, leaving you in the now all-too-cold living room by yourself. ✧ big families mean big meals, but your added presence apparently means childe’s mom is going to pull out all the stops. i need you to imagine a 7-course meal with all 7 courses served at once. an entire damn restaurant spread out on the dining table. roasted ham, pirozhki, salmon pie, olivier salad- you couldn’t even name some of the dishes. it kind of amazes you that she not only managed to cook all this, but was able to fit it all in one space. ✧ also. yes you can make your own plate but don’t even try to be coy or modest. you’re a part of this family now and they’re gonna make sure you eat like one.

“Here, sweetie, have some more ham.” Childe’s mother is already slicing pieces off and dropping it on your plate before you can respond.

Your plate is already piled as high as it can go. But, you are nothing if not polite and desperate to get on your boyfriend’s family’s good side. “Oh, uh, thank you, Mrs.-”

“Just call me ‘mom’, dear.” She speaks with a giggle. You nod.

“Oo! You should try the cabbage rolls, me and Anthon worked on those!” Teucer chimes toward you.

“Anthon and I,” Tonia corrects her little brother gently.

“Huh? No, you didn’t- you weren’t even there!”

The warmth had returned with the chattering and merriment of Childe’s family. You steal a quick glance at your boyfriend, who is being abnormally quiet, and see him smiling down at his plate. His blue eyes have an almost melancholic wistfulness about them, one you’ve often noticed when the two of you were in Liyue- always apparent when he’s talking about how much he misses his family. But, he’s here with them now, isn’t he?

You won’t pretend to know what he’s thinking about, but you do want him to enjoy these moments while they’re here. They mean a lot to him. You reach beneath the table to lace your fingers with his. He snaps out of his reverie at your touch, turning his head to look at you. His smile widens as he squeezes your hand.

“Oh, by the way, Ajax, where are you gonna be sleeping?” Childe’s older brother asks, covering his mouthful of food to avoid spitting.

Childe tilts his head. “Uh, the guest room?” Beneath his breath, you can hear him add, almost solemnly, “As usual.”

“But that’s where Y/N is going to sleep.” His older sister comments.

“Yeah?” Childe picks up a spoonful of borscht and guides it to his mouth. “The beds big enough to fit both of us.”

His mother looks absolutely aghast. “Ajax, you know how I feel about funny business under my roof!”

He sputters on his soup, quickly grabbing a napkin to dab the beetroot that spilled out and waving his hand. “Mom-”

“Oh, but, what the hell. It is the holidays!” She chuckles, before switching to a stern mutter, “but you two better keep it down, okay? Teucer’s room is right across-”

“MOM.” Your boyfriend’s face is a deep red, his freckles standing out against his tinted skin, and you can’t help but giggle. He buries his face in his free hand with a groan.

“Wait, so Ajax gets to sleep with his partner, but when I bring my girlfriend over, she has to sleep alone?” His older sister scoffs with disappointment. “It’s not like WE were gonna do any ‘funny business’ and yet-”

“Wait, what’s ‘funny business’?” Teucer asks innocently. The table is filled with roaring laughter-and Teucer’s confused pout- and you lean into your boyfriend’s shoulder. You can practically feel the heat radiate off of his cheeks, but he’s grinning, too.

You’re only about halfway through your monster of a meal when Tonia stands up, clapping her hands cheerfully. “I think it’s time for dessert!” She calls, skipping off to the kitchen.

“Oh goodness, she’s so proud of her kutia.” Mom remarks fondly. “ We don’t normally eat it until a few days from now, but Tonia was really excited to make it for you, Y/N. Please, be a dear and compliment her on it when she comes back, won’t you?”

You shoot Childe a look of surprise and horror, whispering, “There’s more?” And he just chuckles. You should’ve expected this. As with anything to do with Childe, there’s always more.

✧ with his mother’s blessing, you two finally get some real alone time in the guest room. though, for a guest room, it’s huge- probably bigger than your own room at home. it does feel… emptier, though, especially in comparison to the rest of the house. there are no decorations, just a large bed, a nightstand with a lamp, and a dresser. you and childe’s suitcases are tucked neatly under the bed. ✧ already in your pyjamas, you hop on top of the mattress and shimmy beneath the blankets. the soft bedding sinks until you are comfortably encased in your cotton cocoon. if your boyfriend doesn’t hurry up, you might just fall asleep without him. ✧ thankfully, he comes into the room pretty soon after you, dressed in a large shirt and his boxers. he’s more modestly dressed for bed than usual, but you’re not too surprised- this isn’t exactly a private home, after all. ✧ he flops on top of the blankets across your legs, sighing loudly and melodramatically. you stretch down to ruffle his hair lovingly.

He twists his head toward you, catching your palm and planting a kiss on it. You smile before beckoning him to join your side. As soon as he’s spread the blanket haphazardly over himself, he’s weaving his arms across your waist and smushing his cheek against your shoulder.

“Was today okay?” Childe asks softly. He always seems to get unbelievably soft when he’s sleepy. You wonder if he’s aware of it.

You lift your hand to brush the side of his face. “Today was amazing, babe. Your family is really fun, and they’ve made me feel so, so welcome.” You kiss his forehead and he hums, almost relieved. “Thank you, for bringing me.”

Thank you for coming, he wants to say. Thank you for trusting me, thank you for staying with me, thank you for loving me. The words won’t come out, so he instead tightens his arms against your core.

“Ajax, are you okay?” You swivel so that you can wrap one of your arms around his neck, his head falling into the side of your chest.

There’s a pause as he considers it. Is he okay? He doesn’t get asked that a lot- and when he is asked, he always lies. He doesn’t want to lie to you any more than he has to. But what can he say? He’s home, but it doesn’t feel like the home he knew. His family has grown, and he has, too. They’ve changed, he’s changed… He misses everything he had, and there’s no way to go back.

You gently tap his shoulder, bringing him back to you. You, another change in the life he once recognized. He raises his head to look into your eyes, patient and yet worried- for him.

Childe smiles. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” He has you now, after all. He can’t go back to the way things once were. Maybe he doesn’t need to go back, if going back meant not having you at his side. Maybe one day, he’ll find the words to tell you this.

You lean in to kiss his forehead again, but he straightens up to meet your lips with his. It’s a bit clumsy, you’re both sleepy and warm and together, but you melt into each other.

Childe separates from you after a moment, and in your tired, loving haze you miss the sudden devious glint in his stare.

“You know what would make me feel even better than okay, though?”

“Hmm?”

His hands begin to roam under your shirt. “Well, you remember that ‘funny business’ my mom mentioned earlier-?”

You groan, pushing away from him and picking your pillow up to shove into his face, a bark of your boyfriend’s cackle following. He continues giggling as you turn away from him with a huff, making a point to lay down.

“Good night, you big dork.”

His laughter dies down as he slides further beneath the covers to join you, rewrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer. He kisses the back of your neck with a contented sigh.

As long as he’s next to you, Childe is already way better than okay, he’s certain of it.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Sunshine On My Shoulders

bc-melody said: Hey! I was wondering if I could request and angsty Roger x Reader where she gets in to a car accident or something and freaks out? Thanks so much 😘

(a/n: this picture was all i could get to upload on my parent’s shitty wifi geez no wonder i’m always at my apartment. anyways ENJOY THE ANGST)

He had always promised to protect you. It was one of the first things he’d ever promised you, and one of the few promises that he repeated throughout your relationship.  Roger wanted you to feel safe, to be safe. He didn’t want you in the limelight more than necessary, and he certainly didn’t want you constantly feeling threatened by the pressure of his fame and the big shoes you had to fill as a rockstar’s girlfriend.

‘Sunshine’ was his nickname for you. You loved it – it was because you’d told him your favorite music artist was John Denver. On your one-year anniversary, he bought you a copy of Denver’s Poems, Prayers & Promises, and left a note on it reading ‘for Y/N, my life, my love, my Sunshine. –R.T.       P.S. happy one year’

You played that record until it was practically melted.

It was fitting, though, because you really were his sunshine. You were the center of Roger’s universe, his primary focus. His world revolved around you.

And right now, he was out of orbit, hurtling into the dark abyss of the unknown without you. All it took was one phone call.

It was early in the morning when he got the call. He’d managed to drag himself out of bed and over to the phone, which he picked up right before the last ring. Roger’s hair was a mess, tangled on the side he’d slept on, and his eyes were tired as he stared blearily at the dim light filtering in around the curtains and cleared his throat. “Hello?”

“Is this a Mr. Taylor? First name Roger?” an unfamiliar voice asked, several other muted voices speaking in the background and intermittent beeping playing out.

“Yes, speaking,” he’d mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he went to open the curtains, the cord on the phone stretching to its limits. It was dreary out, a bleak Friday morning, and he’d tried in vain to keep you in bed that morning when you’d woke up to get ready for work. It was foggy, and you had quite a commute just to get to your place of employment. “Who is this?”

“Mr. Taylor, my name is Elizabeth, I’m calling from St George’s, you’re listed as an emergency contact for a Ms. Y/N-“

“Y/N?” he’d asked quickly, interrupting whoever this woman was as all of his muscles tensed up and stars danced across his vision, blurring his sight. If the hospital was calling him, he could only assume the worst. “What…. What’s wrong, what’s going on with Y/N? I just saw her an hour ago when she left for work!”

“Ms. Y/L/N was brought in about half an hour ago, she was involved in a two-car accident near Southcroft and Rectory.”

It was like a punch in the gut for Roger, and he barely heard the next words as he zoned out. Everything in his world was crashing down around him. His Sunshine, in the hospital. The ray of light he’d watched leave the apartment earlier without a kiss goodbye. He’d been too tired to get up and send you off, so all he’d given you was a wave and a grunt that resembled “Bye.”

“God, I’m fucking stupid,” he muttered to himself as he swallowed hard, a lump stubbornly forming in his throat. “Did you say St. George’s?” he asked to clarify, his only goal at the moment being to make it to your side as soon as possible.

“Yes, sir, we can tell you the room number when you get here.” He nodded, even though she obviously couldn’t see him, and hung up without another word.

“My god,” he breathed out, wasting no time in grabbing his coat and keys. It didn’t matter to him that he was in his pajamas, or that he looked like he just caught his death – you were alone, and maybe scared, and that was scary in itself. It really terrified him more than anything, so he went a bit faster than he should have on the way to the hospital, considering the situation.

You were asleep when he got there, and you would have looked peaceful if it hadn’t looked like you’d been through the ringer. Roger’s jaw dropped open in horror as he approached your bed, his hand reaching out. But he retracted it, suddenly scared to hurt you and wake you.

Instead, he scanned your face with his eyes only, tears blurring his vision as he looked over the distorted skin on your face. Bruises and bandaged gashes corrupted your features, making you look almost disturbed as you slept, and you clutched at your thin, cheap blanket with your left hand. Your right hand was in a makeshift cast, elevated on a pillow at your side. Your ankle was also wrapped up and elevated, and you appeared to have bandaging peeking up over the collar of the flimsy hospital gown you currently wore.

Words tried to form themselves on his tongue, but found no traction and died in his mouth. So he just stared, openmouthed, for what seemed like an eternity. Nurses came in and out of the room, but he did not acknowledge them. He just sat next to your bed, watching you listlessly.

The woman laying on the bed was unfamiliar, a feeble copy of the wonderful woman he called his girlfriend. The shell of a human he saw laying there was a far cry from the character he’d seen when he first met you.

It was like the first time seeing a rainbow when he’d met you. Everything was so dull, discolored, and then suddenly you were there. Your smile brightened the room, made it technicolor, made it spring again. He was blown away. Roger had never met anyone who was so outgoing, yet so easy to stay in with. You were the balance of everything – sweet, yet salty, calm, yet excitable. No matter what it was, you seemed to be perfectly in the middle of it, in the middle of the universe as Roger flew into orbit around you. Once Freddie had introduced you two at an afterparty, Roger already knew you’d be something special in his life. But he never expected how central you would become to his existence. Even the brief thought of you being gone when he’d answered that call – it was like a black hole had sucked him up, reorganized all of his matter, and he had become nothing without you. Like Roger Taylor was just another void, lost to the masses, to the endless universe that no longer had Y/N in it. But what was it worth anyways, without you?

He supposed he would have stared forever, his knuckles white and arms veiny as his fingers clutched at the armrests of his chair – but you slowly arose from your slumber, your eyelids fluttering slowly and then your face contorting in mild pain as you kept your eyes shut. You appeared to be unaware that Roger was now there, so he gently reached out and rested his hand on top of your own left hand, which startled you a tiny bit. You opened your eyes and turned your head to find your boyfriend watching you with red-rimmed eyes, a shaky breath escaping his lips when he met your gaze.

“Oh, Rog,” you whispered when you realized it was his hand encircling yours, and your eyes flooded with several emotions all at once – love, guilt, sadness, happiness, the works. There was no way to know what to feel at the moment, so you just sat there and squeezed his hand firmly, offering him a small smile. “I’m glad you’re here, baby.”

Roger broke down at that. Tears started rolling out of his eyes at a rapid rate, and he pulled your hand to his lips, pressing kisses repeatedly against the back of it. The warmth of his hand encircled your own cold, frail hand, and you felt your own hot, salty tears rolling down your cheeks as you continued to smile at him. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” Roger croaked out, his voice almost hoarse as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get a handle on his emotions. “I should have drove you to work, or made you stay home. It was so foggy, it’s my fault-“

“No, no, no, babe,” you murmured, cutting him off as he babbled incessantly about how this was his doing. “I love you, please don’t blame yourself for this.” His mouth snapped closed, then opened for a second before closing again. Slowly opening his eyes, he sniffed and grabbed a tissue, cleaning himself up a bit as he sighed.

“I’m sorry, sunshine,” he apologized again, his nose red at the tip and making him look like he’d just braved a freezing winter wind. His eyes were still bloodshot as he watched you lovingly, a small smile peeking out from the corner of his dainty pink lips. “How are you feeling? Do you need me to get a nurse for anything?”

“Oh, I’ll be alright. How are you, Roger? I hope they didn’t wake you.” Roger laughed, sniffling and rubbing the side of his face. Even after a car wreck, you were still concerned about him.

He squeezed your hand gently, kissing your knuckles again. “Don’t worry about me, sunshine. I love you, I’m so glad you’re okay. I was worried sick about you, it was my job to protect you and I royally fucked that job up.”

A light tinkle of a laugh escaping your lips, and you winced a little at the pain it caused, but you still smiled at Roger. “Roger, you can’t save me from everything, don’t worry so much.”

A grimace formed on his lips at that, and he chewed on his lip a bit. “I could have kept you home. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“How could you have known?” you replied softly, running your thumb over his knuckles repeatedly. “You can’t be everywhere, Roger, it’s not your fault that this happened. Life happens, you know? I don’t blame you for this, and neither should you. You make me happy, and I don’t want you to be upset because of me.

He nodded, bowing his head a bit as he nuzzled your hand, refusing to let go of it as a nurse came in to check on you. No matter what the nurse did, his hand remained around yours, a comforting presence for you as you listened to what the nurse had to say, following instructions.

But it was more for Roger. Your hand was his lifeline – it was the only thing bringing him back into orbit. His sun was back in the universe and the balance was restored. As he observed you responding to the nurse with nods and smiles, a little tune began to play in the back of his mind, a slow, plucky guitar backed by a fluid, beautiful orchestra, and he began to hum softly as the nurse left. Your eyes met his dazzling blues again, and a knowing smile spread across your face as you easily recognized the tune, the words dancing around in Roger’s brain before he began to sing them softly.

sunshine almost always makes me high if I had a tale that I could tell you i’d tell a tale sure to make you smile if I had a wish that I could wish for you i’d make a wish for sunshine for all the while

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[echoise]

Hhhooo boy ok first of all: this thing contains (vague and implied) abuse, both physical and sexual and by nature of the game psychological too and is fucked up in other ways too, including suicidal imagery and self harm

and spoilers

also purple prose but thats bc its me get used to it fellas

tread lightly if you will.

sidestep is... not ok. (chargestep - m!ortega, undefined sidestep) 1,224 words.

You’ve always visualized emotions as drops falling into a goblet.

You stored the goblet in your chest, and held it gingerly, careful not to disturb the surface. Sometimes the goblet filled up fast and spilled, or a particularly large drop splashed into it and had the rest flowing over the edges. Sometimes it was dry, pristine as if never used.

You told no one when it stopped emptying, stale remnants of things you shouldn’t even have clinging to the glass and refusing to let go.

You wonder now if you should have, when you wrestle with the nothing that is everything around you. Trapped among the cables and pervasive smell of death. Someone calls your name, but you don’t hear it.

The goblet shatters together with the window.

*

The figure in the mirror is not you.

You deliver a sharp right hook and shatter it, the image fracturing and specking with red. You don’t feel the shards in your hand.

The goblet inside you, as crudely glued back together as your very person, shudders. You will it to still, the churning depths to cool down, to wait.

Not today. Today is not the day you boil over.

Not even when the dozen eyes stare at you with vengeance, dark and different in color than what you remember. Not when the cropped hair is still too short to not remind you of the cables, the medical equipment, white labcoats and cold, silent facilities. Not when the ugly lines glow neon against your skin, crude imitation of a barcode marking you as a thing, not a person.

No. Not today.

You have too much left to do.

*

The goblet nearly topples over when your name is called, by a voice familiar yet alien. You choke and drop your fork, getting chocolate and crumbs all over your lap.

You don’t need telepathy to know what he’s thinking. He trickles in through the cracks in the goblet, filling it to the brim, and it takes all you have to keep it from overflowing.

He doesn’t even notice.

With great difficulty you suppress the urge to toss the rest of your cake all over his fancy suit.

*

You’d forgotten how this feels. You’ve been choking on everything for so long, crumbled under the feelings and thoughts only a fraction of which are even your own, that you forgot how to breathe.

Or maybe you never truly felt this.

The car alarm is a faint hum in your ears, perfect background music for the scene before you: straight out of a classical painting. The protector broken, his wings clipped, crushed into the scorched earth - and his conqueror standing over him. Herald’s perfect hair is matted with blood and his pale face quickly growing black and blue. His body is contorted in a grotesque angle, framed perfectly by the deflated airbags of the wrecked car. If it weren’t for the barely audible wheezing that is his breath, you’d think he was dead.

You paint a similar picture with Ortega moments later. The suit is your paintbrush, and the cameras your canvas. His arm is twisted in a way no human limb ever should. His bronzed face is marred with blood and sweat and soot. His lip is split up to his mustache, tearing clean through it: it might look comical if it weren’t so grisly.

You look upon the unconscious form and feel... nothing.

The goblet empties of its last drops.

*

Fingers on your bare skin. His fingers on your bare skin.

And then not his.

You can’t breathe.

He feels you freeze and pulls away, radiating alarm and concern, but you are far away.

Rough hands holding you down. Covering your mouth. Smell of sweat and heat and something pungent and you want to gag. Your skin blurs with the neon lines crossing it and it looks like flames, unwelcome hands and lips and other parts leaving invisible burns.

You can’t move.

Your body is numb and your mind is trapped by the low thrum of the ever-present jammers. Stop, you silently scream, but your thoughts hit the brick wall designed to cut you off from every other living mind.

Not that anyone would listen.

The cracks in the goblet grow deeper.

*

“You don’t have to do this,” he says, like he understands anything. Like he can relate.

The carefully balanced goblet inside of you overflows, emotions spilling over as a waterfall. You can’t control it. You don’t want to.

“Don’t have to do this?“ you hiss with such vehemence that he takes a step back. So you step closer.

“You don’t know anything. Not about them, not about me.“ You take another two steps, and to his credit, he stays still. He opens his mouth, but you cut him off. “If you did, you wouldn’t say that. You’d know they deserve worse than what I’m about to do to them.“ You narrow your eyes at him, the waterfall inside of you turned to bitter bile. “If you truly were my friend, you’d join me.”

“If I--“ He draws in a sharp breath and reaches out for you. You catch his arm, but meet his eyes. You’re so clouded by your own emotions, breaking free after such a long time, that you can’t interpret his.

“Cy, all I’ve ever wanted was to be your friend!“ He closes the distance between you with one last step, but doesn’t pull his arm free. “I’ve never cared more about anyone else. It was always you.“

“You don’t know me!“ You spit out. The neon tattoos visible on your outstretched arm are a painful reminder of that.

“But I do!“ So like him to contest you. He reaches for your shoulder with his other hand, but you catch it too, and hold both of his wrists. He looks at you in desperation. “Listen, I don’t care what you are. That you’re not-- your origin doesn’t determine your humanity!“

You’re taken aback, and he takes that chance. “Cy, please. You don’t have to do this. Don’t do to them what they did to you. Together, we--“

“And instead do what?“ You realize you’re digging your nails into his arms, but you don’t care. Your chest feels like it’s about to explode. “Run? Live elsewhere? I tried that. You saw what happened." You can see the realization in his eyes and raise your voice. “They will never leave me alone as long as I live!“

He understands. And it hurts him. Seeing that, finally, proof of what you already knew: that he could never see eye to eye with you on this, is a soft rope around your neck. The one you always knew you would hang yourself on, but right now he’s the one pulling it tighter.

You release his wrists, his skin momentarily white where your fingers dug in, the tiny red scratches left by your nails a deep contrast. You’re not prepared when he stops you mid turn, throwing his hands around you, pulling you in. You lose your balance and fall right into him, flailing your arms, not knowing whether to push him away or pull him in and it feels--

Safe.

He feels safe. You release a shaky breath and close your eyes, wrapping your arms around him in turn.

The goblet splits into two.

[lia-nikiforov]

Weekly Anime Ramblings: Kino’s Journey NOT!

Hello my friends! I don’t know about you lot but the temperatures over here plummeted literally three days ago and I’m freezing lol But I also had time to finally catch up to the animays right before the avalanche of Saturday  stuff comes in, so let’s go straight to the highlights of the week! (I wrote this on Friday night but the internet is being garbage and won’t let me post)

Firstly, this week’s award to “Show that Made me Yell At the TV” goes to...

It was good yelling, mind you. And sobbing. And clutching my chest

MMO Junkie is aggressively cute and you should be watching it like... yesterday.

Kino’s Journey went for a third episode in a row that didn’t feature Kino, this time, at all, so it feels kinda wrong to keep calling the show Kino’s Journey when Kino has only played an important part in like half of the episodes. And apparently the theme in all of Shizu’s episodes is gonna be  "the commonfolk are literal imbeciles who will actively do whatever they can to preserve the status quo bc they're convinced it is the best possible situation and won't let Anime Savior fix their lives".... The more this show continues, the more I convince myself th source material isn’t really all that good and it was the original anime that found a rough diamond and polished it

Gotta love the casual “being xenophobic is super normal because immigrants cause terrorism”.

Hoseki no Kuni might be shaping up to be my favorite anime of the year.. This week’s episode had excellent comedic timing, really cool action scenes and then there was that cliffhanger nnnngghhh I need the next episode yesterday

Also Phos is big mood.

i just watched episode 9 and want to die

Juni Tasen is self-destructing at lightning speed but I’m not here to give you the saucy details on how the very promising ation schlock of the season became a boring dread. I just wanted to comment on how idiotic the twins’ back story is. Their entire “thing” is that they’re edgy lawless hitmen that will turn on their clients and steal all their money. Even from a basic logical point of view, this is TERRIBLE business, nobody would ever hire these brothers again,the end

*sigh* last week Ballroom was so bland and boring I didn’t have anything to say about it, but this week we were back to the usual woman-hating program. This time the most egregious thing was how the show is so hellbent on being as hateful towards women as humanly possible, it will squander its own chances at emotional resonance. The biggest example was with the second part of Akira’s flashback. Instead of making her more sympathetic to the audience by focusing on her unhealthy fixation in Chinatsu, the flashback ends with a scene that is clearly meant to paint her in a negative light –purposefully unbuttoning her shirt to proposition Mine-san. It’s an extremely common anime trope, the mean teen girl that is “too sexual”. It was a completely unnecessary scene, the only purpose it served was to make us see Akira as some “home-wrecking skank” (because “evil obsessed lesbian” wasn’t enough I guess).

Another thing that didn’t work was Chinatsu’s sudden change of heart. Up until now, her relationship with Akira has been shown as one of spite and vengeance, with Akira constantly demeaning Chinatsu, and Chinatsu wanting to see Akira humiliated. Then, suddenly, without any indication that there’s been some sort of reconciliation between them, Chinatsu starts cheering for Akira and we’re supposed to buy that they are now “friendly rivals”. Considering how long-drawn the Chinatsu-Akira conflict has been and how many sequels it’s left in Chinatsu’s dancing, it’s kind of amazing that they somehow manage to resolve it in the least satisfactory way possible.

(there was no Apocrypha this week, so have this weeks old cap instead because now it’s a meme, I guess)

Oh, and I also feel it’s my obligation at this point to say: It’s been [0] episodes since the last body-shaming “joke” in Welcome to the Ballroom

I never thought we’d get a story about how Hoozuki got his club but now I don’t know how we ever lived without it. Every week I continue to be surprised by how perfectly on point the comedy in this show can be.

And the Award for “Show that can stop killing the good guys right about yesterday”goes to Children of the Whales! It’s one of my favorite shows of the season but damn, can people stop dropping like flies so I can stop worrying for Suou who seems like a walking death flag

I also feel very attacked by this Kanda-esque character design, who gave them the right to use my weakness against me like this.

Lastly, Altair continues to be a mess production-wise and with a very unfortunate execution of what could be great ideas, but the only thing I care about is this beautiful long haired dude that occasionally throws in a gratuitous word in Spanish.

Such a delightfully dumb redundancy

That’s it for this week! I’m still freezing cold AND I seem to have caught a cold right at the end of the semester, so pray for me my friendos

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

Oh my gosh, I'm in loveee with you Riverdale posts. Could you maybe write one with Archie getting the flu on the night of a performance or football game and trying to push through but ends up way too sick and needs either Betty or his dad to help him home? Or honestly anything involving Archie is good haha, thank you!

(Going with a performance bc I don’t understand sports..what is a sport?? Also short while i get used to school and get back into writing lol sorry about the break! Takes place  at like episode 5 or 6..the variety show one lol)

Nothing could ever come in between Archie’s love for music.

Something Archie would forever hold dear to his heart was his name. He was an Andrews at his very heart, and there was nothing anyone could do to take it from him. He held the name dear, and what it stood for. He held it proudly, head raised high with it, keeping him strong.

Archie was content with his family life. It wasn’t perfect, there was a small part of him that longed for it to be whole again, but his heart was put at ease with the knowledge and assurance he was very much loved by both parents. Mary nurtured him, taught him about the world and taught him to be kind. Fred taught him how to be strong and to be good.

Of course there were rough and bumps like every family, but they were actually a family who were there. Recent events really put things into perspective. Money had always kind of been a recurring issue in the Andrews household. They were not poor, but certainly not rich by any means. They were lower middle class, and that was okay with them, they had each other, but it was nevertheless, a problem.

So Fred taught him to work hard. Mary taught him to give everything his 100%. Working hard lead to success, and life didn’t wait around for you, you had to chase after it. That was the way the world worked, and Archie took the advice to heart.

Working hard lead to success, and to Archie, that included working through illnesses.

Meaning, when Archie woke up the morning of his big performance for the Variety Show with a raging fever, a sickening feeling of nausea riddled within his system and a throat that felt like it had been repeatedly pricked by a swarm of needles, he was determined to go on.

He’d been working so hard for this day for weeks upon weeks. He had progressed so much in the past few weeks to get to this point, and this was not going to go to waste just because he had a bit of a fever. Archie quickly took some ibuprofen with a swig of water, splashed his sweaty, heated and reddened face with some cool water and he told himself he was good to go.

Archie hauled his guitar bag onto his shoulder and made a soft grunting noise as the weight weighed down on him. It wasn’t a particularly heavy instrument–he wasn’t hauling around a cello or a double bass, but in his weakened state it felt like he was carrying mountains. He dragged his lifeless body down the stairs, holding on shakily to the rails to try and keep himself together as the world spun rapidly and head pounded tortuously.

“Im very excited to see you tonight, Archie, l’ll be off in about 30 minutes,” Fred explained causally, his back turned to Archie as he finished up making his cup of coffee. He turned around and his features grew concerned.

“Hey, tiger, you’re looking a little on the paler side. You okay, kiddo?”

Archie smiled weakly at him, his voice hoarse,  "A little nervous, dad, t-to tell you the truth. I uh..don’t want to disappoint you.“

Fred sighed fondly and approached his son and cupped his face, frowning a little at the heat, "Hm, you’re a little warm ..there’s no reason to be this nervous you’re panicking this much. Archie..you could never disappoint me. I love you very much, and you are going to kill it tonight. I’m going to leave the hall a very proud and excited dad.”

Archie tensed a little at the mention of the heat, and pulled his jacket tighter against him to try and subside his shivering. He felt so cold, trying not to chatter his teeth. He managed a weak smile, “..T-thank you dad..I love you.”

Fred chuckled fondly and batted his son’s cheek lovingly, “Now go on and shine, my rising star.”

Archie couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across his face as he began to leave the house. But the moment after was out of his sight all wellness in his body washed away and he became very painfully aware of how awfully sick he was. His teeth chattering, body shuddering and convulsing as a strangled and painful coughing fit forced its way out of his chest.

But he was not a quitter. He was an Andrews, and he was going to do this.

Archie didn’t know how he did it, but he managed to drag his weakened, heavy body over to the school. Archie made his way over to the school auditorium, his lungs weighing down on him and feeling as if they weighed a tonne. It was like they were made out of steel–and it certainly seemed like it because Archie could barely breathe.

Archie gasped as his chest felt sore and heavy, a light and congested wheeze sounding out every time he exhaled. He wondered if Jughead felt like this every time he was sick, because Archie suddenly felt a new connection to the guy. He made a small mental note to be kinder to Jughead next time he was sick.

Archie shoved the door to an empty dressing room open, immediately dropping his guitar bag onto a bean bag and proceeding to collapse against the shitty couch the school probably got for as cheap as possible. He breathed heavily, trying to clear his throat to stop the horrible wheeze that rang from his chest every time he breathed. The wheeze seemed to pull at his lungs, leaving a painful sensation every time he breathed.

Archie hissed at the pain, squeezing his eyes shut as a wave of heat surged through his body. He panted as sweat trickled down from his scalp, shifting uncomfortably as his face heated up. He couldn’t see himself but he was so so sure his face was matching his hair. He breathed in heavily, feeling suffocated but every time he breathed another pang of tortuous pain would strike him. He tried not breathing, but it backfired on him horribly.

A strangled cough tore its way out of Archie’s chest. Then another, then another, until they were all piling on top of one another and all Archie could do was splutter and hack. His chest felt as if it was being stabbed repeatedly by a flaming dagger. His chest was on fire.

He could hear the door open through his agony, and he could hear a shocked gasp. The next time he knew there was a cool hand rubbing his back soothingly, the touch feeling extremely fresh and calming.

Archie managed to finish his fit and sniffled wetly, tears beading his eyes as he wiped them away. He hunched over the edge of the couch and breathed in heavily as he tried to catch his breath. He panted, holding onto the edge of the couch and the person’s hand as he felt a wave of faint and nausea hit him, his body faint from the lack of oxygen.

“..Archie, you shouldn’t be here,” Valerie said quietly, still rubbing Archie’s back soothingly.

“..I need to perform tonight, Val..I’ve worked so hard..” Archie croaked, shifting so he was facing her.

Valerie softens and gives him a caring look, kneeling down on her knees and resting her hands on his shoulders. Her gaze is warm and comforting, and Archie feels a lot safer all of a sudden.

“You have..in fact, I think you’ve worked too much,” She says sympathetically and placed her hand on his cheek and tuts a little.

Archie sniffled, unsure if he was just sick or he’s getting emotional, maybe both, “I-I..tried so hard..I really did..but I still failed..t-they were right..”

Valerie sighed and shook her head, smiling warmly at him and the way she looked at him makes Archie feel like he isn’t such a wreck after all, there’s this twinkle in her eye that makes everything feel a little better, “You did try. And you didn’t fail. You are going to do this, Archie. They were so wrong about you. I believe in you.”

Archie managed a weak smile and nods, “O-okay.”

Valerie chuckled, “But right after, you are going straight home, okay? Get some rest. I’ll check up on you tomorrow.”

“Valerie?” Melanie called from outside.

She smiled softly, “Well, I gotta go now. If you freeze up..pretend like nobody else is in the room. Lose yourself in it, and think about what makes you feel safe.”

Archie grins at her weakly, squinting slightly from the bright lights and the pounding headache, “..Thank you, Val. You’ve been..amazing these past few weeks. I am so..so thankful. You are going to be amazing, as always.”

Valerie chuckles and presses a soft kiss to his hair and leaves shortly.

Archie sighs softly, and unzips his guitar bag and gets himself ready.

He drank cups and cups of water, hoping to soothe his throat. He focused on his breathing, trying to rest as much as possible so he doesn’t disappoint. He can faintly hear the electronic and powerful vocals and melody of the Pussycats, and he knew he had to do this.

Archie grasped his guitar shakily, letting out a puff of air as he staggered over backstage. His headache seemed to be worsening, and a cold wave hit him and he shuddered violently, shaking like he was the focus of an earthquake.

The Pussycats left through the other side of the stage, and he could hear Kevin yell his name. There was clapping, and whistling from what Archie could recognise was his dad. There was a ringing in his ears, and his blood ran cold and he was somehow walking onto stage.

Archie sat down on the little stool, shaking as he adjusted his mic. He cleared his throat, and when he looked up to see many faces staring right into him, a hot wave came crashing in and Archie felt faint. The ringing in his ears intensified.

Then Archie recognised faces, Valerie, Betty, his dad, Jughead, Veronica…and suddenly everything was okay.

Archie closed his eyes, and thought about his friends. He thought about their booth at pops, and their jokes and their laughter, and then he lost himself in the music.

Archie can’t even remember what happened, but whatever happened, it warranted a standing ovation and tremendous clapping. He could hear whooping and screaming, whistling and cheers. Archie felt euphoric.

The adrenaline was too much for him to handle, and he couldn’t help the tears that fell from his face. Archie bowed humbly and stumbled off the stage, out of it like he had just drank bottles upon bottles of alcohol but this buzz was better and far more exhilarating than any buzz alcohol could give him.

But the minute the lights no longer framed his face and he stepped off stage, he felt extremely woozy and the nausea was back with a vengeance.

Betty ran up to him, her expression like the sun had come alive and took form through her. She was smiling from ear to ear, bouncing in her step. Her presence was he only thing that kept him steady.

“Archie! You were amazing! I’m so–”

Then the the world tilted and he stumbled. Then suddenly he felt light, and he was falling, and it was oddly peaceful but he was caught by her arms, and with a shocker and scared gasp she hauled him over her shoulder.

“Help! My friend!” Betty wailed in fear, feeling Archie’s face and gasping with what she felt.

He could hear what seemed to be Veronica running off and yelling for his dad, but all he could pay attention to was his racing and beating heart and the way the overhead lights flared. Something this mundane had never been so beautiful.

“Archie, you’re going to be okay, honey, I promise..I’m right here, your dad is coming..It’s okay, Archie..You’re doing so good..We’re all so proud..You’re okay..” Betty’s voice was beautifully soft, blessedly kind and warm. So peaceful that it lulled him to a peaceful slumber and it was the last thing he heard before he faded into his dreams.

Archie woke up to a blinding light and a figure standing over him.

“Jesus, Arch..you scared me so so much,” Fred sighed, pinching the bride of his nose.

Archie frowned, then groaned as his headache intensified. He put a hand to his temple and forced himself to sit up, unable to fully open his eyes as they were too heavy and sore. He looked around, noticing he was in his bedroom.

“I’m sorry, dad..I had to. I’ve been working so hard..”

Fred chuckled fondly and sat down on the edge of his bed, “Of course, you did. You’re an Andrews. Of course you worked hard.”

Archie was silent, looking away in guilt.

Fred huffed and ruffled Archie’s hair, pulling him in for a bear hug, “And you made me proud. You were..phenomenal, Archie. Truly. It really moved me, Archie. I’m so proud of you, son.”

Archie couldn’t help the shaky, emotional giggle and the tears that fell afterwards.

“..but please, don’t scare me like that ever again. You are my son and I love you very much. I could not be prouder to be your father.”

There were two things Archie valued the most, music, and the people he loved.

[thelastifntdragonrider]

HI! I’m putting all of the things i’ve been tagged in from the past couple of weeks that i haven’t answered yet bc i’m working hard on an admission portfolio for university and i really want to get into Sheridan, so yep lots of work and lots of art. i am also working on the HTTYD fandom reading (please sign up) and the next chapters of J’Imagine and No Cannon Shall Sink This Ship. Anyways, onto the tagged: 

get to know me meme: tagged by @animalsarepeople2​ thank youuuu! 

nicknames: Kei / Keiko *i explain this in a question down there somewhere 

Gender: Female 

Star Sign: Libra

MBTI Type: INFJ 

Height: 163cm 

Time: 17:07 (by the time I finished all of these it’s 18:36) 

Birthday: February 25 

Favourite Bands: Beatles, Young Rising Sons, Clean Bandits, Lovelyz, Infinite 

Favourite Solo Artists: Ailee, Ed Sheeran 

Song Stuck in My Head: 1cm by Lovelyz 

Last Movie Watched: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with Johnny Depp

Last Show Watched: I just binge watched Stranger Things 

When I created my blog: July 15, 2013/June 27, 2017

What I post about: httyd, animated movies, animation

Last thing I Googled: information about Sheridan and character rotation 

Other blogs I have: my main blog @tokkeiko

Following: 100, though I want to find more good blogs, any recs anyone? 

Followers: in total from both blogs, 200 or something 

Favourite colour: Green 

Average hours of sleep: 8-ish 

Lucky number: 7

Instruments: piano, oboe 

What I’m wearing: jeans and my current favourite sweater which is grey with gold spots 

Number of blankets: I need to remember to find another one bc my room is freezing when I wake up in the morning

Dream Job: story artist at Disney 

Dream trip: i just want to get out of my city rn 

Favourite food: i’m just hungry rn, give me anything, but favourite food, among others, is salted caramel truffle blizzard from the good old DQ (#lovemydq) 

Music ask, tagged by @yv-sketches THANKS!!!! 

10 songs that you are listening to right now; 

my current favourite playlist is called Shut Up and Dance:

“Elle Me Dit” Mika 

“Red Balloon” Charli XCX 

“Dancing in the Dark” Rihanna 

“Shut Up and Dance” Walk the Moon

“Red and Gold” Young Rising Sons 

“Can’t Stop the Feeling” Justin Timberlake 

“Better When I’m Dancing” Meghan Trainor 

“I Bet My Life” Imagine Dragons 

“Into a Fantasy” Alexander Rybak 

“Get Back Up Again” Anna Kendrick

Tag Game, taggged by @thepurplewriter333 ty friend-o! 

Nicknames: Keiko/Kei/Spirit/Sweet Potato 

Gender: Female

Star Sign; Pisces 

Height: 163cm 

Sexuality: probably straight 

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff!!!

Favourite animals: uhhhh... orcas probably 

Average hours spent sleeping: 8 i think, i’m not bothering with math rn 

Dogs or cats: KITTY, all of my sibilings have a significant other and all of their significant others’ have cats and why can’t I have a s/o with a cat???

number of blankets sleeping: during the winter, aka now already, two 

Dream trip: geeeeetttt meeeee ouuuuttt offf thissss citttyyyyy

Dream job: Story artist at Disney 

when I made this account: June 27. 2017

why I made this account: bc i wanted a place to reblog all of the httyd stuff without loosing followers on my other blog 

# of followers: like 47, I think? I recently got more. follow me i am cool person 

92 statements, tagged by @thepurplewriter333 thanks for the double tag! 

Last: 

Drink: Tim Hortons’ Double Double (got to stay caffeinatedddddddd) 

 Phone Call: Home to get a ride home 

Text message: Friend to go hang out later

Song You Listened To: Shooting Star by Lovelyz

Time You Cried: uhhhhhhhh... oh, like a month ago, it was a bad week and then I watched Home and my emotions were already out of wack so I basically sobbed near the end 

Have you: 

Dated someone twice: Nope 

Kissed someone and regretted it: Nope, i’m boring

Been cheated on: nope 

Lost someone special: nope 

Been depressed: i feel like it’s hard to be a university student and not get depressed 

Gotten drunk and thrown up: i am a boring party person and yeah, no i haven’t 

List 3 favourite colours: 

Green

Blue 

Gold 

In the last year have you: 

made new friends: Yeahhhh

fallen out of love: nopppeee...?

Laughed until you cried: like every other day

Found someone was talking about you: in a good way; nope. In a bad way: yeah too many times

found out who your friends are: yeahhhhhh

kissed someone on your FB list: okay someday, i’ll have more interesting answers 

General: 

how many FB friends do you know IRL: 99% of them 

Do you have any pets: nope 

Do you want to change your name: i recently thought about dropping my middle name, but like it has significance to my parents so probably won’t happen and my middle name doesn’t do anything so idk 

what did you do for your last birthday: Keep in mind that I turned 18: my friends and I went to Build-A-Bear and they got me a Build-A-Bear Toothless. 

What time do you wake up: my alarms on early days are 7:00, 7:05, 7:15, 7:25, 7:35, 7:45, 8:00. I naturally wake up at 9-ish 

What were you doing at midnight last night: Sleeping :D 

Name something you can’t wait for: to (hopefully) get accepted into Sheridan and start a new adventure out there.

When was the last time you saw your mom: she’s in the kitchen with me 

what is one thing you wish you could change in your life: i wish that I could’ve figured out what I wanted to do with life so that I could’ve started Sheridan this year 

What are you listening to right now: Sheridan portfolio reviews, tips, etc. (Starting to see a pattern here?) 

Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: friend’s dad. he’s a cool dad. 

Something that is getting on your nerves: when people are packing up their stuff before the professor is finished talking in the last 5 minutes of class. URGH stop moving ppl this stuff is important 

Most visited website: FB, YT, tumblr 

Mole(s): couple

Mark(s): I have freckles (might be moles) on each cheek under both eyes. 

Childhood dream: when you’re a kid, you’re really only exposed to teacher, doctor, police man and whatever your parents are. I think I defaulted to an artist when adults asked. 

Hair colour: black, I have silver hairs though, they stick out on the black hair a lot 

long or short hair: I always grow my hair out and then cut off 12 inches to donate to cancer wigs  

Do you have a crush on someone: not currently, though i had a crush on a guy for like 5 years, so even now, 5 years later, I get happy when I think about him 

Piercings: no, i really think a conch piercing would be nice though 

Blood type: ... A I think, i’ve never gotten tested, but according to genetics, I should be an A 

Nicknames: my full name is Keiko, but everyone called me Kei as a kid, but during high school, I started introducing myself as Keiko, so some people call me Kei, some people call me Keiko, one of them is a nickname, depending on which way you think about it, 

Relationship Status: Egg salad. 

Zodiac: Pisces 

Pronouns: She/her

Favourite TV show: Friends 

Right or left handed: Right, but recently I’ve been trying to teach myself to draw with my left hand 

Surgery: Wisdom teeth 

Hair dyed a different colour: nope, but I think I might try a ombre some day 

Sports: ballet since I was 4ish, ballet is a sport, come fight me on it if you dare 

Vacation: a lot of camping when I was younger, I’ve been to Japan twice, and then places across Canada

Pair of trainers: are we talking about trainers as in shoes? bc then ankle high all black vans. 

More General: 

Eating: this is taking so long I stopped and had supper between these sections

Drinking: Double Double (Tim’s coffee, two creams, two sugars), gotta stay AWaaaaaaaaaaKE

I’m about to: draw character designs or go out to coffee shop to study with friends 

Want: to get into Sheridan so so so so so badly 

Get married: I’m still single, want to put my career first, so yep not for a little while 

Career: i’m a cake decorator rn, see my cakes on my insta @tanakeiart 

Hugs or Kisses: hUG mE

Lips or eyes: Eyes, (though I am supper bad at making eye contact) 

Shorter or taller: would be nice to be slightly taller... 

Older or younger: like to date or something? I think high school rule is a good rule, but rn looking at niners mAN they are tiny

Nice arms or stomach: arms to hug meeeeee

Sensitive or loud: i think I would need a loud person to compliment me 

Hook up or relationship: relationship bc you have a standing plus one to everything and rn being single I have to text like 5 friends to find someone to go with me to something 

Troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant 

Have you ever: 

kissed a stranger: Nope 

Drank hard liquor: I only have like four months until my 19th so like i’ll go drinking then 

Lost Glasses/contact lenses: funny story: family and i were in Japan and we were at Kinkaku-ji and then i realize that one of my eyes have gone fuzzy, so thinking that there is something on the lens, i take my glasses off and my lens had fallen out of the frame. my family literally crawled around trying to find my lost lens, we did find it, but we couldn’t find a small screw that would hold the lens in. my dad fixed it with a twist tie.

turned someone down: nobody likes me so nobody has asked me so i have never turned someone down 

broken someone’s heart: no 

had your heart broken: yeah, by a friend. It is shATTERing 

been arrested: not even a parking ticket in my name 

cried when someone died: no, i am some kind of emotionless egg

fallen for a friend: my heart easily leaps and often trips falls and gets lost

Do you believe in:

yourself: yes, I believe that I can get in, I believe that I can be what I want to be. 

Miracles: I believe in karma more than miracles 

Love at first sight: yes, but not in the way that media portrays it 

Santa claus: nah 

Kiss on the first date: this is weirdly phrased. 

other: 

current best friend name: becky 

Eye colour: brown 

Favourite movie: the other day i was procrastinating and made an official list of favourite movies, which still has a lot of ties: 1/2: httyd 1/2, 3/4: moana, big hero 6, 5/6/7: wreck it ralph, tangled, rise of the guardians,  8/9/10: back to the future 1-3 

wow that took a lot of time, but thanks for tagging me! I’m tagging @thepurplewriter333 @yv-sketches and @animalsarepeople2 on the ones that you didn’t tag me in! also tagging @katlikespie @crazilexa and @fading-shadows for whichever one/s you want to do!