#but the sizes are 100% correct

[saturncoyote]

I WANT MORE COUNTLESS WHEAT FIELDS APPRECIATION NOW

I LOVE THEM AND THEIR PAINTED ON EYES

Well here's a fun fact about them for ya:

Countless Wheat Fields is absolutely the SHORTEST iterator of their local group, their puppet had very little put into it's creation, as their creators only wanted a "mascot" and didn't see much need in "wasting" important resources

For reference here's Wheats side by side with Devotion (the tallest iterator of the group)

[icewindandboringhorror]

examining a seemingly normal image only to slowly realize the clear signs of AI generated art.... i know what you are... you cannot hide your true nature from me... go back where you came from... out of my sight with haste, wretched and vile husk

[ophelialoveshandsomemen]

Say what you will about Van Helsing 2004; hate it, love it, be indifferent, But the All-Hallow's masquerade ball went sooooo hard and it had zero right to do so! It's a fun, campy, monster mash movie with wonderfully dated ( and expensive) cgi and non-stop action meant to be a popcorn flick one takes out to watch around spooky season. And it has this* chef's kiss* GORGEOUS 6 minute sequence plopped arbitrarily in the second act, which unexpectedly surpasses nearly every other ball in the last 30+ years of film( notable exception being the Cinderella 2015 ball) for literally no reason other than to be dramatic af.

Like feast your eyes on this Gothic masterpiece!!! Who doesn't want to immediately live in this picture?!??

They used those candles with oil in them so that they would have real candles, real string orchestra( I believe), probably around 100 real life extras( something which is tragically absent in modern film), said extras are all in beautiful fully decked-out costumes( which are in luxuriously dark colours, but nearly no fully black, another thing you cannot say for much modern cinema), REAL CIRQUE DU SOLEIL PERFORMERS for all the acrobatics!!!! Hell, instead of filming in a sound stage, where they could control the reverb and the acoustics and the size of the set and the bloody lighting ( they apparently had a heck of a time emulating the firelight for this sequence) and the temperature( it's very cold in stone churches!) better, they filmed in a Baroque church in Prague! As I said, peak dramatic splendour, jfc...

Think about that a second...They filmed a vampire masquerade in a Baroque Catholic Church( St. Nicholas' in Lesser Town, if you were curious) with amazing over-the-top acoustics and marble statues and real, tiled floors and marble pillars and a choir loft which they very much utilized, covered the pipe organ and the altar with a grand brocade curtain so it wouldn't be so obviously a, you know, a church! And there's a gold gilt elevated and canopied pulpit into which they put two vampire kiddies for, again, the sake of being dramatic.

And the costumes! They remind me of the 25th anniversary Phantom of the Opera Masquerade costumes. Same quality, like they're old, well-cared-for costumes pulled out of a warehouse, instead of fast industry churn-outs. With lots of trim and colour and masks and lace and feathers and..just...ugh.. they are all perfect! Just look at all the head pieces on the ladies and the hats on all the gentleman ( save Dracula of course) and the powdered wigs on the musicians. ANNNNDD! The dresses are historically correct!!!!!! It's the 80's bustle era! Nobody does the 80's bustle era in film anymore and it's a bummer. Oh and one other thing! Anna's ( and other women's) hair, at least here in the ball, is also historically accurate because it's all pinned up! None of those fucken modern beachwaves at a ball! Everybody's got updo's!

Gah, I swear, Dracula in his gold cloak really does things to me in this scene!

By the way, the acrobatics are bonkers in here for just background stuff!! Especially the random guys on unicycles and the dude playing the violin whilst standing on a ball...Like....WHAT?

Anyways, all this to say, that this masquerade ball feels sooo real and tangible and because of that it blows every other film out of the water, and no, I will not change my mind!!!!!

Here's a few more gifs, bcuz, why the hell not, this scene is sexy as fuu*ck?

Alright I need to go to bed now.

[handsmotif]

check the notes for my reblog that has the correct answer!

[starflungwaddledee]

oh. my god. oh my god. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD!!!!! i saw this and immediately started screaming "IS THIS REAL.. AM I STILL ASLEEP... IS THIS A DREAM?!?!"

DAS!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAA

what is blud yapping about

(based on @starflungwaddledee 's comic here.)

[comicaurora]

hi red!! i'm doing an analysis of sun wukong's (and journey to the west in general's) impact on modern culture for my world mythology final, and for some reason i'm having a hard time finding sources. is there anything you can recommend?

The fact that Journey to the West has contributed an enormous number of tropes to modern media is very clear when the media in question is examined, but I don't know of a specific secondary source that's already done that analysis for you. However, this IS a very good excuse for you to plow through a metric buttload of shonen manga, since the lineage is basically Sun Wukong -> Son Goku -> like a solid third of all shonen action heroes written in the last forty years.

Dragon Ball kicks things off:

Started in 1984 and almost unquestionably the most influential manga ever made. Its first arc features the weird super-strong monkey-kid Son Goku - which is just the japanese pronunciation of the characters of Sun Wukong's name - meeting up with a wacky crew of thinly-veiled expys of the Journey to the West crew, with teen inventor Bulma filling the role of Tripitaka, Oolong the pig-man filling Zhu Bajie's role and Yamcha the desert-based bandit as Sha Wujing.

Hijinks ensue, and while the story drifts pretty far from Journey to the West's original plot, it actually stays pretty solidly referential in weirdly unexpected ways. Several the villains of the week are JttW references, and even the later appearance of three more Saiyans lines up with the surprise reveal of three more Wukong-like mystical apes in the original story.

The connection between Dragon Ball and JttW is very unsubtle and a frequent reference in the chapter covers and supplemental art.

Not every subsequent JttW reference is the result of Dragon Ball popularizing it or anything, since it was already enormously popular, but I think it's pretty hard to extricate Dragon Ball's influence on anime and manga from the original influence of Journey to the West itself.

One way that a distinction can be drawn is in the differences in characterization between Goku and Sun Wukong himself. A lot of the next generation of shonen protagonists were kind of Goku-alikes - pure-hearted dumbasses who only care for the three Fs: Food, Fighting and Friendship.

But the original characterization of Sun Wukong is not really all that similar. He's a trickster, sure, but he's far from a young, friendship-motivated goober. He's profoundly intelligent, pretty much the most well-educated entity on the planet, and routinely brings up that he's centuries older than most of his peers. The Goku-alikes from the later decades of shonen anime are tellingly far-removed from that original characterization. So you get characters based on Goku's cheerful idiocy, but it's just a small subset of the broader influence of Journey to the West on the space of literature.

In general, Journey to the West frequently shows up in very small, bite-sized tropes in other stories. It's less "this is wholly based on Journey to the West" and more "oh, I know where they maybe got this idea/aesthetic/power/weapon/villain of the week from." There are way too many to list, but some of the ones that tend to jump out at me are-

Sneaky characters with monkey motifs:

Tricksy, highly mobile characters who fight with a staff:

Characters afflicted with a magical restraint artifact that allows a much weaker character to stop them from misbehaving:

Specific esoteric weapons, eg. magical fans, rakes, gourds, namedropping The Sword of Seven Stars, etc.

Villains with prominent ox or pig design motifs:

Characters whose primary combat strat is just making Shitloads Of Disposable Copies Of Themselves:

Honestly it just keeps going like this. It's kinda everywhere. Finding the JttW in things is my favorite conspiracy theory rabbit hole because it's 100% harmless and more often than not completely correct.

[crowtwink]

I am So Normal about this line. His later line about how he never asked to be human is good too but this right here...

Just... the way that Monty and Esther's relationship subtly reinforces the themes about abuse that the rest of the show explores.

The rest of the characters are dealing with healing from the various traumas of past abuse and trying not to continue the cycles they were hurt by but Monty? Monty is trapped in his abuse right now.

And the way that it's shown...

I saw someone point out that his cage is WAY too small for a bird of his size and that's 100% correct and 100% demonstrates that Esther is a shitty person but the thing about the cage that interests me the most isn't it's unsuitability.

It's the fact that the cage is never locked. Most of the time, the door isn't even closed. There's nothing physically stopping Monty from just skipping town. He doesn't seem to particularly like Esther - even at the start - and he's not subtle about it. We never see any indication that she has any magic keeping him bound to her. (It's not unreasonable to assume that she does, sure, but she's never once shown to use it and that's a narrative choice. The one time she threatens him for overstepping, it's physical.)

Even after he's shown hesitation in following through on her plan, even after they have their big fight, even after she remakes him against his will for the second time, we still see him return to that cage. And the cage remains unlocked, because Esther remains confident in her hold over him.

Because that's the thing about staying with your abuser. It's often not about being physically unable to leave the situation. Esther doesn't keep Monty trapped by locking him up. If she did, all he would have to do would be leave the cage to be free. The hold she has on him is much deeper and much harder to escape.

But not impossible.

It's a little betrayal, in the grand scheme of things, but he does finally act against her directly.

Thematically, it makes perfect sense to me that it's Charles who finally pushes him to rebel. Charles, who promised way back in episode one to befriend him. Charles, who knows exactly what it's like to be trapped by an abusive parent. Charles, who so desperately wants people in circumstances similar to his own be in the right so he can prove to himself that he isn't destined to turn out like his dad.

It's no surprise that Charles' immediate reaction to Monty's little act of rebellion is delight.

I really hope we'll see more of Monty in a season two. But even if we don't, I know he's going to be okay.

He's finally escaped.

[myloveismineallmine]

talking about james somerton's dogshit color grading

okay, i see people talking about how poorly james somerton's videos are lit and at first i was like "how does this dumbass not understand three point lighting, its like something you learn about within the first month of film school" but then someone on twitter pointed out he probably just didn't know how to properly grade footage and i was like ooooh my god how did i not realize?

so when you first shoot something, it will probably look fine on your camera, but when you import it to your computer it might look like dogshit on your monitor, like in the image on the left. this has to do with whether you shoot it in LOG or RAW. basically RAW= huge file size but no change in saturation/exposure/white balance, ect. LOG= smaller file size but really ugly, little saturation and contrast, etc.

when you take this footage into your color grading software, you have to put a LUT (look-up-table) matching the camera you shot on onto the LOG footage to restore it so it looks like the image on the right. After that, you can start grading (fixing the exposure, adding colors to the highlights or shadows, there's a million different things you can do when you color grade.)

but whoever edited these (I'm assuming it's James, who we can always count on to be extremely lazy in his "creative" endeavors) just skipped that crucial step and went straight into color grading the LOG footage. Which is a huge no-no.

that is the reason why shots like these look so weirdly lit. conversion to LOG literally drains the contrast and saturation from the footage. which is why it is STEP ONE to correct it in post. but this dude probably just went straight into applying filters and colors and just thought upping the exposure or brightness would fix the footage.

obviously i don't have access to these files personally, so i can't say this with 100% certainty, but it would explain why the footage looks so damn weird. in my personal opinion it's not a lighting mistake necessarily (though the choices of colored gels he uses for his lights are very questionable.)

[heaven-knowss]

How I think the Fears would write essays :)

The Eye: That one kid that copy-pasted the entire thing from Wikipedia. The essay ended up being 12k words long, the teacher is speechless.

The Vast: That one kid that makes as many empty lines as possibe to make the essay look bigger. The paper ends up having like 10 sentences per page.

The Stranger: Probably went the Eye method except translated it back and forth through Google tranlate to make it look original. The essay end up having weird grammatic choices, the teacher has an identity crisis.

The Buried: Opposite of the Vast, never changes paragraphs and uses font size 7. The teacher gives up at reading the essay halfway through.

The Desolation: The file somehow deleted itself. The teacher dosen't believe that story.

The Spiral: That one kid that thought they can pull off straight up making facts up. The teacher was too stunned to speak.

The Web: Also made up facts, but did it so neatly that the teacher gave them an A.

The Slaughter: That one smart kid that very violently corrects the teachers facts in the essay. The teacher won't be able to read the paper without being called out for their mistakes during their lectures.

The Flesh: Somehow knows the goriest detail about the topic. Whether the essay is about human biology or wars, the teacher will be throwing up halfway through reading.

The Dark: Wrote in dark mode during night, got eyestrain. As simple as that.

The Lonely: That kid that never came to the lectures, who wrote like 100 words and their paper lies at the bottom of the pile on the teachers desk. The teacher probably forgot to grade it but the kid didn't bother to remind them.

The Corruption: Their essay was more opinion than facts, but that didn't stop them from getting an A, the teacher loves them after all.

The Hunt: Found the weirdest, most unpopular sources/theme to base their essay on and wrote it. What they must've typed into the search bar to find THAT information, no one knows.

The End: Their conclusion paragraph is longer than the essay itself. Very poetic but cynical writing style, the teachers deppression worsened after reading that one.

@stokering-it

[mcytfanfictionappreciationweek]

Runs from January 21st to January 27th, 2024

7 days of fanfiction appreciation for all our fandom writers!

Everyone from all corners of MCYTblr are welcome to participate. No matter how large or small your favorite SMP or creator is, there is a space for everyone.

Many fandom events focus on providing tasks for artists and writers, but very little are made with the people who enjoy and appreciate that work in mind as participants. Lurkers and enjoyers and love posters are just as important to the fandom, so this is a space for us to do our thing and spread the love 💗

How to Participate

There will be 3 kinds of planned activities hosted on this blog, but there is no single correct way to participate, as long you’re uplifting others. The activities and prompts are meant to be a guideline and source of inspiration. You don’t have to burn yourself out by participating every day or in every activity.

Keep this space positive and abide by standard fandom etiquette. Be mindful of tags and if you don’t think you’ll like a work, don’t click and read it!

Share the love; one goal of this challenge is to help authors who’ve been overlooked feel appreciated for their contribution to the fandom. If you’re up to it, try and use this challenge as a way to break from your comfort zone and uplift others who you haven’t seen get any attention yet.

Note: This doesn’t mean to not send love to any ‘bigger authors’ whose work you admire, and we are not entertaining any discourse related to the size of one’s following.

Use the tag ‘mcytfanficappreciationweek’ for your recommendation lists related to this event and we will reblog them here!

Activities

(Under the cut!)

Reading and Recommendation Challenge

Find a fic that fits the theme of the day and give it a read/comment! Then if you’re up for it, share the recommendation in a post on tumblr and use the event tag. You can make individual posts for each day, or create a wrap-up at the end of the week.

It is both allowed and encouraged to engage with fics whose authors don’t have any linked social media presence. This is not exclusive to authors on tumblr.

January 21st (Day 1: Something New)

Read and comment on a fic written by an author whose work you’ve never commented on before

January 22nd (Day 2: Hidden Gems)

Read and comment on a fic that currently has no comments

Or, feel free to share and recommend a fic whose only comment is your own

January 23rd (Day 3: Underrated Blorbos)

Read and comment on a fic centered on a character of whom you’ve never read as a main POV (the less fics the character is tagged in, the better!)

January 24th (Day 4: Rarepair Extravaganza)

Read and comment on a fic with a character relationship tag (that’s central to the fic, no cheating with ensembles!) that has less than 500 tagged works

For fandoms with <1000 works, use 50 tagged works as a threshold (or your best judgment)

For fandoms with <100 works, use 5 tagged works as a threshold (or your best judgment)

Can be either romantic (using the “/”) or platonic (using the “&”)

January 25th (Day 5: A Blast from the Past)

Read and comment on a fic that was last updated before 2023 (complete or in progress!)

January 26th (Day 6: Canon? Who is she?)

Read and comment on a fic with any ‘Alternate Universe’ tag of your choosing

Canon divergent fics or split timelines count!

January 27th (Day 7: Procrastination Termination)

Read and comment on a fic that you’ve had ‘saved for later’ or opened in a new tab but never got to reading

Or, finish catching up to a multichapter fic that you fell behind on and comment on it

Author Interaction

Send authors who are active on tumblr questions about their work! Ideas/prompts for each day are written below.

January 21st (Day 1: Something New)

Ask an author about future writing projects or ideas that still only exist in their head

January 22nd (Day 2: Hidden Gems)

Ask an author about one of their least-kudosed fics

January 23rd (Day 3: Underrated Blorbos)

Ask an author about something they’re excited or passionate about

January 24th (Day 4: Rarepair Extravaganza)

Ask an author about one of their favorite ships (romantic or just a platonic relationship!)

January 25th (Day 5: A Blast from the Past)

Ask an author about past fandoms they may have participated in or their journey as a fic writer in general

January 26th (Day 6: Canon? Who is she?)

Ask an author about an AU or headcanon of theirs

January 27th (Day 7: Procrastination Termination)

Ask an author about their writing process

Love Posting

Too shy to reach out to someone you admire directly? Write them an anonymous message in our inbox and we will post it and tag their blog for you! (Please be sure to include their blog name so we know who to tag).

Note: If we suspect that your message is back-handed or being hateful towards another group in the community, it will be deleted. If you believe your message was deleted in error, feel free to send this blog a DM about it.

And finally…. If you are an author remember that even if you don’t receive a message or new readers during the course of this event, you are still a valued member of this community. With the size of our fandom, it is impossible to give every single author their due recognition. You are appreciated for your contribution to this fandom, and every fic that is written makes our fandom a more vibrant, wonderful place to be. We love you for the time and effort you put in the art of your creation and we are privileged that you choose to share it for us to enjoy!

[boxturret]

One Tenth Scale Mata Nui

Mata Nui is a cool place, but did you ever feel that it was a bit...big for what it was?

The official maps put the island at 357 kio long, which if you take to be a stand in for kilometres¹, would make the island 357 kilometres long.

This lines up roughly with what we can see in the concept art: they say that Mata Nui is around the size of Denmark, the real measurement being 368km, and it matches with what we see in the Mata Nui Rising cgi video.

So that's all well and good, Mata Nui is 357km long, the GSR itself is 3300km tall, all hunky-dory, as long as you ignore some guy named Greggory yelling about how the robot is actually much bigger, but its fine to ignore him.

But now, actually consider what this means. Denmark is by no means a small country, it has a population of 6 million and would take hours to drive across by car on modern roads. Now that isn't an issue really, but in most media depicting the island its shown to be a place that can be traversed by foot or on animal back in a reasonable time frame.

But now let us look at this earlier map:

Initially the most interesting thing to me on this map was the 3rd measurement: the height of the Mangai volcano²

Now on the one hand, this was cool, now I know how tall to make the volcano, on the other hand... 23km seems pretty big.

It is. 23km is higher than Olympus Mons, the largest known volcano in the solar system, standing at only 21.9km. So that's pretty big. This made me start thinking about how far various things are apart and how long it would actually take and using some very VERY generous numbers I started plotting out how long it would take to actually get from place to place.

It wasn't very pretty. In the Mata Nui Online Game it would have taken Takua roughly 5 hours to walk from the beach to Ta-Koro, and another 18 to get to Onu-Koro using the highway. Now this would be fine in an epic like Lord of the Rings, but in Bionicle Mata Nui is consistently treated as a place people can pretty quickly get around on.

The Toa are running all over the place and bumping in to each other. Kopaka getting in to the Caldera at the top of the Mangai volcano isn't the equivalent of climbing 3 Mt Everests in a row, its just something he does [correction: It wasn't the caldera, but a lava pool half way up the mountain, so just 1.5 Mt Everests]. Takua travels all over the island in a pretty small amount of time, unless we're supposed to insert day long journeys in between every screen transition.

But then I noticed something. Something very interesting.

Now lets look at the two keys for the sizes on the released and the early map:

Seems pretty consistent, the sizes of the island are the same, a Toa is 1.6 bio on both (incidentally a real Toa figure is approximately 16cm tall), everything seems to match.

But then I counted the zeroes.

The old map has a kio being not 1000 bio, but 100!

You can even see it on the other version of the map.

Now this is incredibly interesting! This shrinks Mata Nui to 1/10th of its commonly accepted size! It goes from being the size of Denmark to being the size of the Isle of Man.

Which....really works a lot better! This turns Takua's trip from the beach from a 5 hour hike to a short half hour walk. This turns the cable car to Mt Ihu from a massive 70km mega structure to something that's dwarfed by real world constructions.

I don't think this is a mistake either, looking at the details of the map.

You have much finer details, such as these ice shelves collapsing in to small icebergs, whereas on the full sized map some of the larger chunks of ice are kilometres across.

One of the major things it includes are the mesas that can bee seen in many of the promotional renders set in Le-Wahi which are nowhere to be seen on the final map. At this 1/10 scale the plateaus seen would match up well with the massive mesas seen in monument valley in terms of size, but with the final size they would be absolutely massive (10 times as big if you can believe it!)

So suffice to say, I don't think this is just a case of a zero being dropped, it really seems to line up with the level of detail on this earlier map.

But what does this do to the GSR? I hear you cry, well it varies. Going by the earlier numbers it would simply be 1/10th the size, so 330km tall instead of 3300km, so still very large, but depending on the size relationship between the robot and the island it could be as "small" as 180km

The island in this picture is roughly the same size as normal, just covers more of the GSR. The final GSR's head is so proportionately tiny compared to its body that the Mata Nui island had to be very small to cover it. But in any case, a robot "only" 180km tall standing up is still going to tower over anything, its many times higher than airplanes fly, its taller than most clouds, really it would be quite consistent with this render:

So, in conclusion, an earlier concept of the island of Mata Nui has it being 1/10 of the size of the final, and that size seems to work better with what we see in various media from the time, and works better with the story.

Personally this is what I'll be going with in terms of the scale of the island going forward, as it really fits with my vision of the setting and works well with all the story and media from that time.

¹-I don't care about someone saying a bio is 4.375966487787¾ feet, feet aren't real and neither are you. ²-Mt Ihu is NOT the highest point on the island, the GSR isn't Pinocchio with a big pointy nose, this has never been reflected in any visual media.

thank you for reading/have a nice day

Update: I have made a companion post with many renders of George visiting places on the island to hopefully better illustrate the scale.

[gremlingottoosilly]

i stumbled upon ur account and oh my days i can't stop reading through all of your works 😭😭 one in particular that I can't get out of my mind was the chubby chef reader x könig. would there be a part 2 of that, if you don't mind me asking (not intended to impose any pressure!!). thank you for bringing in such wonderful creations out into the world huhuhu I've only known you for a sec but I already love your writings sm

You got yourself a fan. This was supposed to be something that made your heart tingle with excitement - but instead, it felt like having someone watch over your every move. Lean closer to observe whatever it was that you were doing each time...and reading the messages the guy has left you, you know it's probably correct. As much as you feared the thought. Now, you have more money than ever. Even as you stopped streaming after getting too many nasty comments from that one guy, he still somehow managed to find all of your bank account details - and use them to send you money directly instead of just stealing your cards and running for the hills. He sends you different amounts, never less than a 100 directly - sometimes so frequently, you had to disclose it as "streaming donations" to the tax collectors. They were coming from different accounts - something out of country, out of continent, something completely off-shore that almost made you believe it's just a money laundering scheme. You get to keep the money, though. This, and the feeling of dread filling you up every time you'd go out. Looking around anxiously, even as you finally get to spend money on something nice, something good for you. You finally have enough to buy from a nice, sustainable plus size brand, and the dresses are almost pretty enough to make you forget. Then, there is a message on your phone "More cleavage" "Shorter skirt" "Take the one with high waist" Your phone is flooded - both with praise at how pretty your ass looks in the pants you're wearing right now. The promises of kissing each of your tummy rolls as you slightly lean forward in that tight shirt of yours. Silent threats of retaliation if you're not going to buy the pretty flowy dress with cleavage so low, it's scandalous. You recognize the tone of the messages - and you recognize the flood of donations. you know you should be grateful for money and nice words, and you can almost convince yourself that you shouldn't look too much into this... Then there is another message. A photo, actually. Your photo right from the place where you stand.

[flagellant]

Hey! Please correct me if I'm wrong, but you seem like you actually know things about wend*gos and I genuinely want to have a better understanding.

Based on my limited understanding, the association with deer and wend*gos is more of a pop culture thing and the original concept of wend*gos arent like that at all. They're regular humans who got cursed for being cannibals, right?

Dont get me wrong, youre completely right in saying that people need to stop associating deer imagery with cannibalism as pop culture doesnt erase appropriation, but am I at least right on the history?

No pressure to answer if you dont want to, thanks for taking time to read this regardless.

Alright, it's been a while since I've spoken about the winter hunger so it's time for the perennial disclaimer: I am not Anishinaabe, and I cannot be considered a true authority on their practices and beliefs. Native America is, after all, not a monolith, and I can only speak for what I know through research and seeking to learn about this topic in order to be more respectful of them and advocate for that respect due to my audience's size.

With that said: You're correct. There is absolutely no deer imagery aligned with the Anishinaabe culture's portrayals and understanding of the being in question. I'm not 100% sure on its origins, but I'd be willing to bet that much of the inspiration would come from the Witcher 3's depictions of leshy--they click all of the buttons through visual language, and I can see why people would see that sort of iconography and begin applying it disrespectfully. Like I keep saying--fucked up deers are cool and spooky as hell! It's not a shock that through law-of-large-numbers and a history of oppression and thievery that the horror genre can often be anti-indigenous bc of that!

For clarification of the most commonly understood appearance of the winter hunger--and this is not so that you can more accurately use it, it is so you can more accurately defend against racist and inaccurate depictions--it takes the shape of humans. Often of people you know. There are sometimes qualifiers like frostbite or lack of feet but at the very root of it, it is supposed to look like a human being.

Further disclaimer: What I'm about to say may be an entirely wrong interpretation of the winter hunger, but it is rooted in my culture's understanding of a very similar evil being which exists in Dine and other desert-dwelling native tribes such as mine. It's further rooted in my specific understanding of religion through anthropological lenses, since that's why I love studying religion so much--because it doesn't exist in a vacuum it is defined by our understanding of our surroundings.

Picture it this way: Both the Anishinaabe and my own people are in some way considered extremophilic cultures. We both live in an environment which reliably becomes lethally dangerous to exist within if you aren't prepared, willing to sacrifice your own comfort for the survival of everyone, and combines a level of isolation during those extreme climates with a need to be able to trust those around you implicitly because you all want to survive. Deserts, be they snow or sand, are difficult places to live within. There are enough resources to go around, but it's not exactly uncommon for there to be enough to go around and that's all. You're surviving because you and everyone around you are putting the survival of everyone over individualist comforts.

The winter hunger and the desert swallowing you whole are always taught as something which looks like a human. Which sounds like a human. Which can trick others into thinking it is human. Beings which have the shape of a person, but have no humanity--they lost it or they never had it. And both of them are things which gain power over you when spoken of and thought of--they're a type of memetophage. They feed on people who know about them, so you're forced to balance "aware that this danger exists" with "need to know what the danger is". They often will try and trick you into evil deeds or danger yourself by wearing the face and voice of family and loved ones. People you know well to let your guard down.

Now remember that you are a culture which needs to prepare itself for extreme climate survival. Everyone has to rely on everyone else. But sometimes people aren't going to like the people they're surviving with. People will resent other people for whatever reasons they choose, justified or not. Living so close together and in such tight quarters can be stressful and bring out the absolute worst in us.

Imagine, for a moment, going out into a snowstorm or the bitter desert night, looking for food for everyone else, sent with someone you hate. It's a harsh life. Even at your safest you are at risk of death for whatever reason--getting lost, being attacked by an animal, taking a bad fall. It happens. It's a fact of life. It's horribly tragic but it's acknowledged as inevitable.

Imagine the knowledge of how dangerous what you two are doing worming its way into your head during this time. If you were willing to hate this person enough to kill them...it wouldn't be hard to convince everyone it was just an accident. Just something which happens. Kill a stag, then kill them and jam the stag's antlers through the wound. Or just disable them somehow and leave them to freeze in the snowdrifts and say they got lost. Or push them down a ravine. There are so many possibilities and all of them exonerate you of any complicity, because yeah, you didn't like them...

...but you trust each other to survive. You trust that you're all willing to give up things to make sure everyone is able to survive and get through these things. You trust that when you are in danger, you don't need to worry about it coming from someone you know. And so why would anyone suspect you? And maybe you convince yourself that what you did was good, actually. One less mouth to feed. More food for everyone. Or it's just easier for you--someone who you hated so much, and now you never need to worry about them again.

Imagine the way that knowledge that you've done it once would show up again and again. Anyone and everyone is now in danger because you've become aware of the benefits of being greedy. Of choosing to hurt and kill other people to further your own goals and desires. Of deciding that the sacrosanct ties of the whole community's survival is not a priority over your own violent impulses. The knowledge of what you can do to other people is, itself, a danger. You put the idea of it, the possibility, in someone's head, and there is every chance that it could start dwelling in there and taking root, changing them from a good person, someone you know, a member of the community, into an evil, selfish monster which has lost its humanity and merely wears that person's face. Uses its voice to lie to you. Wants you all to have your guards down around it. Something waiting to strike where it can.

Now remember that we turn rainbows into the bridges of gods because we needed to create a reason for them. That's the history of magic: we don't know how to explain something, or we don't know how to process it, or we do and need to obfuscate that knowledge through a layer of fiction to cope with it. We don't invent the divine for no reason, on instinct, without thinking. We do it because there is something that creating it offers us as a species and culture that would otherwise be lacked. So think: Why would tribal cultures who need everyone to be willing to set aside personal wants and grievances to ensure that everyone survives through harsh climates need to have something like the winter hunger or the desert swallowing you whole? What benefit does it offer the community? What is the purpose of sharing knowledge about this monster? Where would it fit into that culture's way of life and philosophies?

The answer becomes self-evident soon enough. We all know what it looks like when one person decides they can sacrifice other humans for their own personal greed. We call them oligarchs.

[atlantahammy]

-screams- okay listen, I was up till 2 AM doing this, I did my best, oh my god I did, but in combination with what @ewitsewwie and @thewiglesswonder posted here: Click

and all the crap I posted over here: Click

And some interpretive dance in my sleep-deprived fueled art season. This is what I came out with, a lot of it.. i had to work from tiny, tiiny images okay. so it's not 100% accurate but I am hoping its at least 80%?

6 and 9 I am glad are the same emblem just flipped... Uh i'd need some help making it into a font as I would once again need to redraw all these and correct sizing and spacing and oh god it would kill me.

Have fun @kathaynesart

[serasfanfiction]

Inspired by this Twitter thread.

Part 1

If asked about it later, Lucifer would have sworn it was an accident.

Well, his discovery was. Everything else? That was 100% on purpose.

The incident in question came about like most interactions with Alastor. Alastor messes with Lucifer (for no reason, Lucifer might add). Lucifer retaliates (with mixed results). Alastor tries to get under his skin. Lucifer casually reminds him can squish that little static bitch like a bug, thank you very much.

And so on and so forth, most only stopping when Charlie interrupts them.

It was all going pretty much to script. Alastor had just made a comment about his parenting skills - look, he knew he had messed up, but he was here, now, and trying! - to grind his gears when Lucifer found himself inspired.

Alastor wanted to rile him up? Well, fine! Two could play at this game.

Because while Lucifer's parenting skills - or lack there of - was a sore spot, Alastor wasn't without his own triggers. Case and point: The Radio Demon absolutely loathed it when men touched him. Granted, he didn't like it when anyone he didn't tolerate touched him, but men in particular was a hard no-no.

Lucifer honestly tried not to poke that beast. He knew why all of his people, these wretched and terrible sinners, were in Hell. All he had to do was take one hard look at any of them and he'd know. And oh, how he knew every single one of Alastor's victims. Could lay the names of all of them, especially that first one, at his feet if only he thought Alastor regretted even a single one of those deaths.

So he knew why the seemingly unflappable radio host hated to be touched and he genuinely tried to respect that boundary even when his own weren't respected.

But sometimes Alastor pushed and pushed until he got his reaction.

In this case, it was Lucifer in a small duck form landing right on Alastor's head.

Alastor froze as the Devil laughed at him, static emitting from him like he'd hit a bad station. Lucifer took advantage of the opening to nip at one of the tufts of hair he'd always seen sticking up on the guy's hair, only to realize:

"Are these ears?"

He let out a quack of pure delight. On either side of him, the little black antlers he'd never really paid attention to began to enlarge. Lucifer proceeded to put two-and-two together and got: "Wait, are you a deer? Does that mean you have a tai--"

He was cut off by an overly large black and red claw swipping him right off of Alastor's head. It was at this point, Lucifer realized that Alastor had grown in size, eyes manic and maw agape. He clearly intended to take his chances with attempting to eat his king.

Which, rude. Clearly, he needed to learn to take it if he was going to dish it out.

Lucifer easily shifted into a serpentine form, before slithering out of Alastor's grip. To avoid the drop, he shifted back into duck form, keeping just out of reach.

"Ha!" He taunted. "The dreadful Radio Demon, hell bent on treating everyone else like prey, when really--"

"Dad!"

Lucifer spun around, spotting none other than Charlie. While her interruption was indeed like clock work, the look of disappointment on her face was new. And so terribly damning.

Lucifer fluttered to the ground, taking to his humanoid form as he touched down. Behind him, his nemesis creaked oddly, as if his bones no longer had any cushioning between them. "Hey, Charlie, I..." He trailed off as his daughter didn't spare her hotel's manager the slightest glance. They all knew what to expect from Alastor. Alastor would always be none other than himself. She'd clearly expected more from her father.

Who'd just as clearly disappointed her.

Again.

Lucifer shrunk into himself, suddenly finding his victory tasted like ash.

Charlie placed her hands on her hips, stance . "Alastor, I know you like teasing my dad. And Dad, I know Alastor can take some getting used to, but can't you both please just try to get along?"

A figure in red came up beside Lucifer, the correct size and shape to indicate Alastor had returned to his normal shape. Lucifer didn't dare look at him, keeping his gaze fixed solely on His daughter's face.

"Ah, forgive us, my dear." Alastor says it like he'd never lost his cool to begin with, charm turned up to the nines. "We merely got a bit carried away. No harm done."

Charlie sighed, stance already softening. She never liked being stern. She much preferred to be a problem solver. She eyed the two of them. "I'm not going to ask that you like each other. Just promise me you'll at least try not to antagonize each other."

Lucifer side-eyed Alastor, who had the gall to appear serene as an untouched pond.

"Dad."

Lucifer's attention snapped back to Charlie. "I..." Her expression was bordering on disappointed again and he felt his arguments crumble. "Of course, Char-Char. Anything for you."

Her smile was like a sunrise dawning over Eden. Lucifer resolved himself to actually try to avoid fighting with his daughter's business partner.

Charlie turned that expectant look on Alastor. Alastor's smile softened into something fond and indulgent, true despite the slight distance to it. "Very well, my dear Charlie. I promise not to antagonize your father."

Charlie, always willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt, clapped her hands together. "Oh, thank you, both of you!"

Lucifer wasn't entirely certain he believed a word Alastor said, but that was between the two of them.

Tbc

Part 2

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Hoodie | Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader

Gif Credit to @billy-crudup

Synopsis: I can't keep your love / I can't keep your kiss / Gave you everything and all I got was this

Warnings: She’s angsty babe, Mentions of Murder, The Butcher Mentions, Mentions of Suicide, Cheating/Infidelity, SWAT, Guns, Reader 100% is down bad for Cooper even with what he did, It’s giving Stockholm Syndrome but the reader isn’t captured by him

Rating: PG

Word Count: 4.6K

Author’s Note: You know, you can thank my manic episode for this. Also I know the song has a totally different meaning but, my brain took over and who am I to stop her?

If you would like to be tagged, please fill this out

You'd probably think I was psychotic (if you knew) / What I still got in my closet (sad but true) / I slip it on over my shoulders / Something I'll never get over / It makes me feel a little bit closer to you

Loss; the fact or process of losing something or someone. No one knows how to properly process loss – though there are no guidelines on the correct way. It comes in various shapes and sizes – not always as transparent as it is expected to be. That’s what makes the human experience so different across vast networks, everyone processes emotions in ways not one human can comprehend. It’s the equivalent to time, there are so many seconds whirling by, impossible it is to grasp how many different processors truly run for one emotion. Some cry, some wither away to nothing, some lash out, some lose their sobriety. A slim majority does not react, because to them – why would anything good stick around? Why do they deserve it? Abandonment is a fickle bitch, and something you got too used to knowing.

Learning that people weren’t a permanent staple point in life was the worst thing for you, because then you started to expect everyone to leave, at one time or another. Maybe that was the countless times it has happened to you talking but, it’s a feeling that never leaves the back of your mind. It sits there, claws at parts of your brain you’re not supposed to use, sinking deeper and deeper into every soft part of flesh until it blackens. The rot taking over, making you feel helpless until pulling away is the only option. It’s a vicious cycle that you can never seem to break, no matter how hard you try. Which sucks, expecting the worst when you more than deserve the best. And the best came in the form of an amazing, well educated, humble man.

I can't keep your love / I can't keep your kiss / Gave you everything and all I got was this

You never anticipated falling in love with Cooper Adams, or Abbott as he is now known. But sometimes you cannot anticipate destiny, but only let her play out. All it took for you was a kitten stuck in the stone foundation of your home, coming to find out four different litters were calling it home. Cooper was the one to find them, rescue all fifteen of them, and even adopt one for the station. He stayed with you as he helped to clear out the deceased bodies, as you cried holding their little forms for feeding, and as you nursed them back to full health. He was never without you, only living two houses over. Never would he lie about where he was, his wife knew all too well – but refused to get in the way of Logan and Riley seeing the kittens. She suspected, but never could find reason.

All it took for you to realize Cooper was your person, was when you were ready to leave for work and found him under your car, jacked up and tire freshly replaced. You didn’t even realize you had a flat, Cooper saw it before he was about to leave for work. He knew that your car was your lifeline, working over forty minutes away. He wouldn’t let you suffer like that, out in the cold and all, freezing your ass off with cold fingers. No, he tossed on a hoodie and cap, put himself to work and was rewarded with the promise of dinner. He held you to that, to the kitchen table, to the kitchen island, to the couch, the stairs, and lastly the bedroom – all in one night. You both knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t lie to himself; What he and Rachel had was over the second Logan turned four. They were coexisting in the same house, playing their parts to a tee without any hesitation. They kept to themselves, saying goodbyes and I love yous in front of the kids – but they knew it was done. It was you who made Cooper feel alive again – made him feel loved. He had lost that so long ago he wondered if it was real for him anymore. You’d do anything for him; Lie, hide, and even believe.

It was obvious from your fourth month into this affair that Cooper was The Butcher – an accidental slip up of coming back to you smelling of cleaning product. It was only obvious from the slight chemical irritation on his forearms, the small hives a clear reaction. It wasn’t a firehouse cleaning product but more of a hospital type – meaning that he got his hands on heavy duty stuff, which he could’ve only gotten without being suspicious through your account. Working in the medical field was a blessing but, in that moment you thought for a second it was a curse. You could see the glimmer he had for you brighten with the inclusion of tears welling, heartbroken you’d have to be his next victim. But that all changed once you held Cooper’s face in your hands, rubbing back and forth on his cheeks as you smile proudly; “I accept you, my love. We can manage, I won’t tell a soul.” If he had been honest, Cooper didn’t trust you at first. But when days turned into weeks, and those turned into months with no one coming after him, he knew he hit the jackpot.

I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts / Still rocking your

Tonight, Cooper was supposed to come home to you after taking Riley to see Lady Raven, something she worked hard for over the course of six months to go. Cooper was so proud of her and the great report card she had gotten, you were proud of her as well. Lady Raven was her idol, someone she found solace in when her preteen angst was acting up. Cooper wanted to do something special for her; A night she would never forget for the rest of her life. You remember Cooper saying he visited the box office at the arena right before they closed, buying the last floor seats – the closest Riley could get to Lady Raven. It was everything he could’ve hoped for and more – though he wished he remembered to remove the receipt from his wallet, hiding it in case Riley found out. You knew he wouldn’t come over automatically, he still needed to keep the façade up, act like he was still a family man even though all he wanted to do once the kids fell asleep, was be with you.

With the concert starting early during the day, you knew Cooper wouldn’t come back to you until later tonight, around ten or eleven depending. But you missed him; The warmth of his body as he hugged you from behind, the weight of his arms against your chest, the soft feel of his stubble scraping along your cheek as he nuzzled your neck. You both were in a completely different world when you were together, at the door was his first life – with you was his second. Cooper was always adamant on the two lives not touching, which you could understand. But sometimes you wished they did, wished you could be involved in his first life without the repercussions, it was a fucked way of thinking but, nothing with Cooper made you feel rational. It made you want to be the only one – though that could never happen. At the end of the day he was coming home to you, not Rachel, and that would have to do.

The brisk October air flowed through the open living room window so quickly you didn’t hesitate to wrap Cooper’s hoodie around your torso, taking in the musky smell of his cologne and the firehouse. Cooper loved seeing you in his clothing, how happy it made you, how the gleam in your eye shone brighter with every second you wore it. When the first feel cold breeze of autumn rolled through your house a few weeks ago, Cooper quickly discarded the hoodie he had recently gotten from the firehouse, marking the eighteenth-year anniversary that he started. No effort was wasted when he came up behind you, sliding it up your arms and zipping it up neatly. For a few seconds he patted the shoulders down over your form, seeing how it hugged you beautifully. In that moment you saw it in his eyes; Love, he was in too deep too. From that day forward, you never stopped wearing it when he wasn’t home, needing to feel closer to him. To be one with him.

I used to put my hand in your pockets (holding on) / The smell of your cologne is still on it (but you're still gone) / I slip it on over my shoulders / Someone I'll never get over / It makes me feel a little bit closer to you

Grabbing at the shoulder of the hoodie, you brought it to your nose for a deep inhale – smiling softly as you smelled Cooper’s cologne, fresh from the other day. Bergamot and pine invaded your nose, causing your eyes to roll back. There was something so intoxicating about his scent, it drove you silently mad in the best way possible – you didn’t want to let that go for anything in the world. It was your way of feeling like he was with you, when he couldn’t be. Your way of grounding yourself in the moment, planning on what you two would do when he came over. Deep into the fantasy you were creating in the moment, you didn’t hear the racing sound of sirens coming down the street – see the bright flashes of red and blue lights flowing through your home, or hear the screaming until it was too late. “Logan, don’t forget to turn in your science project!”

Your ears perked up at the sound of Cooper’s voice, growing giddy at the fact you were going to see him so soon. Opening your eyes you were met with the flashes of police lights coming from the open curtains, your stomach dropping as you heard the garage door close a few houses away. Cooper. Running from the living room to the front door, you slid on your boots quicker than you could have ever guessed, slamming the door open against the wall. With Cooper’s hoodie still wrapped around your body, you walked quickly down the sidewalk where there was a small crowd gathering, seeing a limo, Rachel, Logan, Riley, and even Lady Raven standing outside of the Adams residence, SWAT officers with their guns drawn as they secured the perimeter of the house. You didn’t know what to believe or ask what was going on. But as soon as Riley and Logan ran past you to another woman’s car, you got your answer.

Rachel turned around in slow motion to see Logan and Riley off, in the midst of it all catching your eye in the crowd. Tears were welling in the corners for you, as hers were bloodshot from crying. Her arms wrapped around herself as she let her eyes roam over your torso, seeing the firehouse symbol with the big 18 in yellow font. Her slack face drew up in confusion, then to realization. Your heart was in your throat as you slowly backed away, trying to get a clear angle in the house to see what Cooper was up to. It was only then that everything caught up in your mind. They found out. They all found out Cooper is The Butcher. Your hands grew clammy, starting to shake at what this all meant. If I am ever found out sweetheart, the only way out of it is to kill myself.

I can't keep your love / I can't keep your kiss / Gave you everything and all I got was this / I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts

A sob trickled out of your mouth without you realizing, tears falling heavily as you spun around to face your house. No one was giving you any attention as you cried, all probably thinking someone had died. But to you, he was close to it. With shaky fingers you managed to grab your phone out of the hoodie pocket, unlocking it quickly with your passcode. The first number up in your latest calls was Cooper from earlier today; How excited he was to see Riley so happy, how he was going to make her year with this, how did things go so wrong? Clicking on his name, you brought the phone up to your ear, hearing the three rings before it went to voicemail. “Fuck,” you whimpered, sniffling back a sob you could feel at its crest. Swallowing as you clicked his name again, and again, and again, and again, all until your phone screen went black. “Fuck!” You yelled out as you started to make your way back towards your home, but not before someone caught your arm, spinning you around in place.

You could feel how warm your face was from crying, how the salty tears dried against your cheek uncomfortably. You were shivering but not from the cold, from fear of losing Cooper. Blinking the unshed tears from your eyes, you let your pupils focus on who spun you around, being met with the dull eyes of Rachel Adams, her face stoic, yet scared. “How long?” She whispered, afraid to speak up louder. There was only one right answer, yet you couldn’t muster it out of you. Your mouth fell open to respond but, nothing came out. “Please,” Rachel sighed, her lip in a small pout for a moment as she tried to regulate her emotions. A sad smile came across your lips as you reached forth with your empty hand, holding her hand softly. “I think you know, Rachel.” It was better than giving an exact timeline, and enough to where nosy neighbors didn’t have to know either. Rachel let out the breath she was holding, a fresh wave of tears coating her eyes as she tightened her grasp on your hand. It wasn’t out of malice or anger, but closure. Giving you a smile that matched your own, Rachel rubbed your hand in both of hers, nodding before she walked off to the house.

Still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts / Still rocking your

It was time for you to do the same; Needing to charge your phone in case Cooper called. You were hoping he didn’t do anything stupid; you were hoping he was okay. “There’s a tunnel to the neighbors yard, he’s not here!” That was the last you heard before stepping back inside.

-----

Nightfall was upon you, the darkened sky matching your mood as you laid on the couch, phone on the coffee table as the news silently drones on in the background. Your eyes were fixated on the TV, fresh tears you had not been aware of were falling, covering the pillow under your head. It had been over two hours since Cooper was found out to be The Butcher. Every new channel was running the story, posting the clips from the venue of Cooper with Riley and Lady Raven. Reporters were outside of the Adams residence, covering every new detail that came up. You were sure that was highly illegal since it was active scene by the FBI, but you couldn’t find yourself to care. Not when your whole life had just been turned upside down. Your boyfriend found out to be a murderer, his wife knowing he was having an affair, everything was a mess.

Any little sound you heard coming from your window you jumped at, hoping it was Cooper. But alas, it was just another reporter staking themselves out on your lawn, wanting a hit of the newest story from this scene. You needed to see the house, everything. You needed to know if this was all real or a bad dream. Laying around on the couch was only going to get you so far – this would give you closure if he was captured, or if something else had happened. Standing up from your position on the couch, you felt yourself getting lightheaded for a moment, shaking off the imbalance for a moment before moving. As you stretched upwards to cracked everything in you, a visceral scream could be heard around the neighborhood – one full of rage and fear, one that made your hairs stand on end. You didn’t think before your feet took off, tripping over your coffee table as you scrambled out of the back door, not caring that it was left wide open. You were taking off quickly down a few houses to where a bigger crowd was starting to form, everyone in their bathrobes and jackets, trying to get in on a piece of the action.

From your angle at Cooper’s house, you couldn’t see what was happening inside but could see multiple SWAT officers going in and out. One of them had long chained handcuffs in their hand, the ones that were attached to the waist and ankles of the prisoner. The clanking of the chains was muted now by the chatter over the radios, quiet enough so not everyone could hear but, if you focused hard enough you could make it out. “The Butcher has been captured. He’s being cuffed now.” In a way you were happy to hear Cooper was just captured, and not dead. You knew how good he was on his word of suicide, not thinking twice about it but, you didn’t want to live without him. The whole life you two wanted to build together, it may not come true now but – that was okay. There was nothing stopping you from visiting him in prison, having conjugal visits – you’d do anything for him.

If you want it back / If you want it back / I'm here waiting / Come take it back / Come take it back / If you want it back / If you want it back / I'm here waiting / Come take it back / Come take it back

The large presence of officers coming out of the house caused you to focus back on the front door, pushing your way to the front of the crowd to see what was going on. Wearing a blue and red flannel, was your Cooper. Not the clean-cut Cooper the forehouse saw, that his family saw – the one always put together and smiling. No, this was your Cooper; Disheveled hair, manic look in his eyes, a smirk that could light the whole world on fire. He was in his true form, not the fake mask he put on for his family. Seeing that gleam of rage in his eyes made you smile softly, knowing exactly what he was capable of. As Cooper walked out of his home and down the front steps, he stopped halfway down the path, turning to face where you were standing. The SWAT officers had AK’s trained on him, threatening to shoot if he tried anything, but you knew they wouldn’t.

Cooper’s gaze fell to Riley’s bike on the lawn, tipped over from all the commotion. Needing to right this wrong, Cooper knelt to pick it back up, running his thick, calloused fingers over the tires, knowing he may never see Riley grow up. It killed him to think about it; He wanted to take this moment in for as long as he could. You saw the trepidation in his eyes as he stared at the bike, running his fingers over the spokes. It’s when his gaze shifted up to you, that you saw the darkness layered – the glimmer of sinister intentions, one that made your lower stomach ignite. “I love you,” Cooper silently said, mouthing to you as your eyes caught his. All you could do was smile, biting your lower lip as the tears sprang free again; Your arms wrapping around your shoulders as you hugged his hoodie tighter to your body. “I love you so fucking much, Cooper,” you whispered back, causing his own eyes to glisten with tears.

I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts

Behind you a car pulled up quickly to the scene. Quickly jetting out of the van was a curly, blonde-haired girl – who you knew was Riley. “Daddy!” She sobbed out, running out of the woman’s arms into straight into Cooper’s, his hands chained in front of him. Riley didn’t waste a second to hug Cooper tightly, pressing her tear-stained face into his chest. It was a bittersweet moment; From what Cooper always told you, Riley was his little girl, always valuing his opinion on topics and learning the ways of the world from him. He was wrapped around her finger, and silently it was killing him that this may be the last time he was ever going to see her. Cooper leaned his chin against Riley’s head, kissing the top softly, savoring the moment before it was ripped away. “Riley, come here sweetie,” Rachel called out, causing Riley to pull away as she ran. The SWAT officers hands tightened against Cooper’s arm, he spun around to stare at his family one more time before being loaded into the paddy wagon.

Before that door shut, Cooper held your gaze with a primal glare, causing your heart to quicken. A smirk lined his lips as the door shut, only able to see him through the small window of the wagon. You didn’t feel upset or scared that Cooper was going away, because you knew it was bullshit. That look told you everything you needed to know, and it made you excited. Throwing the hood of Cooper’s jacket over your head, you made your way back to your home, locking the back and front door – closing and locking the windows, heading straight for bed.

I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts

-----

Time ticked away as the lights started to die out; The warmth of your salt lamp omitting off cozy energy. Snuggled beneath the comforter, you watched as the last of the police officers and journalists left. The neighborhood had enough craziness for one day, to hear utter silence put you at peace. Everything felt good again; No animosity lingered in the air. But things still felt off, not having Cooper by your side. Watching him get taken away by the police made you sad – but seeing how he said he loved you, made everything so much better. You would wait for him, no matter how long it was going to be. If you had to wait eternity for him, you’d wait two. Cooper was everything to you, and you knew you’d never find love like him again. Even with abandonment heavy on your mind, this time felt different. It wasn’t a slow pullback like everyone else does. No, this was so much less. The look in Cooper’s eyes was a guarantee that he would be with you soon enough, and you’d wait forever to have that.

You felt yourself drifting off to sleep at the thoughts of him, how the previous night he held you close to his chest, playing with your hair as he hummed softly to you. It put you at great ease, feeling so domestic for the first time. The way his right hand boxed you into him, laying right against your stomach. His left was tucked under his head, his chin perched on your shoulder. It was almost as if you could feel the warmth of him now, holding you tightly, peppering kisses along your hairline. His hand snaking its way under your shirt to touch you, rubbing little hearts into your flesh as you sink deeper into him. His broad chest your safe haven, his lips your solace in this dark world, as they move their way down your cheek, to your bare shoulder. “You’re never getting rid of me that easily, princess.” Cooper whispered into your ear, causing your eyes to fling open.

Cooper could feel you tense at the realization he was here, with you, instead of locked up. The excitement vibrating off of you as he helped you turn around. Even with the low light of the lamp next to your bed, you could make out every single feature of Cooper’s face. The lines around his eyes as he smiled at you, the creases of his mouth as his grin grows wider, the softness in his irises as they track a path over your facial features. “I will never leave you, sweet girl. I am with you forever.” Cooper’s voice cracked with emotion as his tears started to fall, the sob slipping from your lips evident enough. Perching against Cooper, you let your lips collide with his in a heated manner, feeling the ever-growing love between the two of you blossomed. The world was gone, silent compared to the beating of two hearts. The autumn light turning into tendrils of golds, browns, and silver cascading through the air, glittering with every touch Cooper laid upon your body. He was your home, he is your safety. He is your world, and nothing could take him from you. “I’m here to stay.” You knew he meant it too. Cooper Adams was a thing of the past, a monster that the media wanted to portray. Cooper Abbott on the other hand was a family man, who was desperately in love with his girl. Philadelphia is where you two made your home, but your true adventure starts with the move to Minnesota. Your future now getting started.

Still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts / Still rocking your hoodie

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Cooper Adams: @lunaluvsu @rplver @kissofdawn666 @rottenangel