#sinning is my favorite hobby

[ezra-poetry]

Gold wraps around skin, flashing in the lights

Around our necks, wrists, fingers, waists

When the figures blur from lights and sound

It is as if we are all intertwined with gold

We adorn our bodies, cover ourselves in gold

We have no hair to braid, but pearls to wear upon our heads

We dress in scarlet, widen our eyes with paint

All together, dipped in gold

Our bodies become temples and we paint like michelangelo

Gold leaf and beautiful forms spread about

Silk veils our figures as we indulge with no intention of confession

Music fills the room, lyrics anything but hymns

Women wear men’s belongings, and men women’s robes

Upside down and inside out, all flipped around

We dance with no intention to see the Sunday daylight

Kiss the gold laid upon each other

Entangled in gold and each other, I think

“What will his parents say?”

[moeblob]

"What's cookin', good lookin'?"

AKA I love how unhinged both Alfred and Bunet are and I want to study their brains.

[mymarifae]

talking about my stories makes me want to open the draft documents and tinker on them a little but um. well you see- *a large anvil falls from the ceiling and crushes me*

[flannelfaeries]

actually, sir, my favorite hobby is committing blasphemy and horrific sins in the eyes of god

[cxrdycxps]

God’s Favorite/Devil’s Choice • Ellie Williams

☢️ religious trauma • child abuse (emotional and physical • mental illness • physical illness • emotional trauma • death ☢️

Main Masterlist • Ellie Williams Masterlist

“Momma?” You asked quietly, watching out the window at the back yard. The winter had hit Jackson hard which left the entirety of the town covered in snow and frost. It looked like someone had forgotten to draw in the details of real life.

“Yes, Baby?” Your mother hummed from her spot in the living room, feet up on the coffee table and book in her hand.

You looked down at the water your hands were in and the dishes you had just washed from dinner. You weren’t sure if you should ask but the question was eating you up inside. “Was all that really true?”

“All what, Baby?” Your mother asked. You released the water from the sink and clambered down from the chair you stood on carefully. You returned the chair to the dining table and moved slowly towards the living room, half hiding in the doorway.

“Am I really going to hell?” You asked her softly and she chuckled, patting the space beside her on the sofa. You joined her, climbing up on the cushion beside her.

“I wish you weren’t.” She sighed, pulling you onto her lap and holding you close. She rocked you slightly as you sniffled. “I’ve been trying to save your soul since birth but some people, well they’re just damned.”

You cried into her chest and she rocked you quietly, shushing you. Her hand ran up and down your back slowly and you had almost drifted to sleep when she tapped your leg. “You can’t sleep yet.”

You blinked at her sleepily before nodding, climbing down off her lap and stumbling towards the little cupboard under the stairs. You were five now. You had to say your prayers for an hour every night before bed.

The door to the closet closed behind you and plunged you into darkness. You didn’t like this part. You were afraid of the dark but your mother told you that you had to pray in here. You had to try and save your soul from hell.

///

“Well this just fucking sucks, doesn’t it?” You winced when Ellie dropped herself at your table, her arms crossed. She looked around and then looked back to you. “Why do you sit on your own? Are you the town freak, am I committing social suicide on my first day of school?”

You didn’t want to tell her. In fact you would die for just one friend that your mother hadn’t run away with her Bible rhetoric but you knew this wouldn’t last long. She was rough, always swearing and she seemed to be more world weary than you. Your mother didn’t like you to know a lot about what went outside the walls of Jackson because it opened your mind to sin.

“You kind of are.” You told her quietly. She looked around again at the other tables before shrugging and picking up her sandwich. “Dina is pretty cool. You could sit with her.”

“I’ve never been cool. I was a loser back in my old school and I met my best friend that way. Don’t want to break my lucky streak now.” She spoke with food in her mouth and grinned at you. You winced but couldn’t help the little laugh you gave her. It would be nice to have a friend for a little while again.

“Have you ever heard of Savage Starlight?” Ellie asked and you shook your head. This launched her into a massive spiel on what had to be the greatest comic book ever made and she informed you about all the characters and story lines she had gotten to read.

“‘Course I don’t know how it ends which is fucking annoying but I suppose that’s my little taste to understand how surviving the outbreak was hard. What about you?” Ellie asked and you blinked at her before shrugging. “Got any hobbies?”

“Not really. I got a lot of chores to do after school. I don’t really get time.” You explained and Ellie scrunched her face up. “It’s just me and Momma. I gotta help her out cause she’s not able to get around that easy.”

“Oh. Was she hurt?” Ellie asked softly and you smiled at her thoughtfulness but shook your head. “What then?”

“She’s getting old, she says. So I have to help. That’s my job as a daughter, you know?” You explained and she seemed to be pondering the thought before shrugging.

“I mean I’m an orphan, so not really. Joel doesn’t make me do chores because he’s boring and likes doing them. Says it reminds him of before.” Ellie explained and you nodded. It made sense.

“Were you always an orphan?” You asked and she nodded, sipping at her water. “My pa died before I was born too.”

“Nice. I don’t actually know if my dad died but I’ve been in an orphanage since basically my birth. Joel is kind of like my dad except not, you know?” Ellie asked and you shook your head. You hadn’t really ever had a dad around so you couldn’t really relate.

“Not really but I’m glad you have someone.” You told her and she smiled brightly at you.

“I think now I have two someone’s.” You shared her smile a little reluctantly. Ellie was nice, you knew that made it hurt more when they didn’t want to be friends anymore.

///

“That girl, with the swearing? Is she in your class?” Your mother asked. You were stood at the sink, staring out at the back yard. Summer had come and the flowers you had planted in the spring were all in bloom. You were rather proud of them.

“Ellie?” You asked for clarification but you knew it could only be her. She had been at the Tipsy Bison with Joel for dinner and she had been swearing up a storm. “The new girl?”

“Yes, the new girl. Don’t be daft on purpose, it doesn’t suit you.” You ducked your head focusing on the warm water your hands were in. “Is she in your class?”

“There’s only one class, Momma.” You sighed and heard the sofa creak as your mother stood from her seat. You counted the foot steps it took for her to get to you.

“That sort of cheek is the reason you’ll never get past the gates of heaven.” Your mother snapped and you winced in preparation when she took a handful of your hair and pulled you towards the cupboard under the stairs. “I don’t know why I even try with you anymore. Get in there.”

The closet had gotten cramped with age but still you were supposed to fit in and pray for at least an hour when your mother got like this. She didn’t pray with you but she did expect you to pray out loud without any pauses or noises of shuffling around.

Your eyes would adjust in a few minutes and you would have to find a cramped position in which you could be comfortable because any sign of stiffness or soreness would be seen as a regret for having prayed and earn you another hour.

“I can’t hear you.” Your voice raised in level and you counted the prayers out on your fingers hoping you didn’t miss one. She wouldn’t tell you until after and you’d have to start all over again. Tears of frustration pricked at your water line and you did your best to keep your voice steady.

You hadn’t been cheeky. You were just answering her question. She was so convinced of your damned soul that she took any chance to try absolve your sins immediately after you had committed them. You weren’t sure why you weren’t able to go a day without sinning but you knew deep down your mother was right. You were awful and you would go to hell because you had been lying to her.

You and Ellie had been friends for weeks now and she had understood when you told her that your mother didn’t like you having friends. She never approached you outside of school when you were with your mother and it had turned into one of the longest friendships you’d ever had without her to get in the way.

So you prayed a little harder for your lies and begged god not to remove the first good thing that had happened to you in years.

///

“Joel is teaching me to play guitar.” Ellie told you quietly. You were supposed to be filling out your math worksheets together but both you and Ellie were very good at math and had finished them in the first five minutes. “He wanted to be a singer when he was younger.”

“Is he any good?” You asked, laughing at the idea of big Joel Miller singing the gospel music your mother played for you when she was in a good mood.

“I think so. He’s good at country at least. I don’t know about all those old pop songs that he sings while he’s washing dishes. He just looks and sounds stupid then.” Ellie told you with a grin and you laughed again.

“He seems really fun. Me and Momma don’t have fun like that.” You told her, hand reaching up to sooth your scalp that had been burning. Four times this week she’d dragged you by your hair to pray.

“I wish you could come over to our house. Joel could make dinner and you could see the garage. I basically live on my own.” Her chest puffed out and you were in awe. You’d like to live on your own you think.

“I wish I could too. I could see all your comics and posters.” You sighed wistfully and she bumped her shoulder against yours.

“I’ll just bring them all in one by one for you to see.” She promised and you smiled brightly at her, swallowing against the almost sick feeling you got in your stomach when Ellie was nice to you.

“I know you’re gonna say this is sappy but you’re my best friend, you know that?” You asked her and she laughed.

“I’m your only friend, Angel.” That nickname seemed like it was gonna stick. Ellie had chosen it when she asked why you always paused before eating your lunch. When you had explained that you were praying she had tagged you with the nickname despite your protests that you were far from an angel.

“You’re still the best.” You promised her and she laughed, resting her head on your shoulder for a minute before straightening up again. Ellie didn’t like saying sappy stuff so she chose to touch you in some way instead, it was how she showed she liked someone. “Yeah, I know. You love me too.”

She laughed and pushed you away but you noticed her cheeks turning pink and you knew you had hit the nail on the head. You were her best friend too. You’d never had that before.

///

“Momma?” You climbed the stairs slowly, surprised to not find your mother in the living room when you got home from school. There was no reply to your call and you found the bathroom door wide open along with your mothers bedroom door.

But yours was shut tightly.

You weren’t sure why your heart was pounding as you stepped closer to the door, your hand reaching for the door knob. You took a deep breath and turned it, pushing the door open.

Your room was destroyed, everything pulled out of place, all of your books open and tattered on the ground. Your dresser drawers were overturned on the ground with your clothes spilled everywhere. “Momma?”

She was sitting on the edge of your bed, just waiting and watching your reaction. You looked around again and then back to her for explanation. “Are you okay?”

Your stomach was sinking and your lungs were constricting. She knew something she shouldn’t know and you only had one secret when it came to your mother. There was only one you couldn’t share. Ellie Williams.

“You’ve been very careful.” Your mother noted casually. Like she wasn’t in the middle of your upturned room, like she hadn’t made this mess. “Not even a trace of her.”

Of course there wasn’t. She had wanted you to bring home some of her comics but you had denied her. All the little notes she had written you were tucked away in your workbook in class. You knew better than to think you had that level of privacy at home. “Trace of who, Momma?”

“Ellie Williams.” Her tone was cold and you stayed in the doorway, not daring to get any closer to her when she was like this. It was a long way down the stairs to the cupboard if she got your hair now.

“I don’t know what you mean, Momma.” Your voice shook and she laughed at you. You didn’t know how your mother made such an expression of joy manage to be the exact opposite, cold and unfeeling.

“If I didn’t know better then I’d believe you.” She said and you swallowed, looking around again like you had been careless enough to forget something. “But when Joel Miller approached me to ask could you have a sleepover, promised it wouldn’t interrupt your chores. I had to pretend to know that you’d been talking to his girl.”

You felt faint. Your hand reached out for the door frame to steady yourself when your knees buckled. You had been so careful but not careful enough.

Your mother lifted her hands and settled a long black belt over her lap, smoothing the leather of it with her index fingers. It was your belt and you suddenly had to fight the urge to vomit.

“I always knew your soul was damned.” She sighed like the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. “But I never could’ve guessed to what extent. You’ve broken two commandments.”

“Momma, I didn’t.” You spoke quickly, fear pulsing adrenaline around your body. “I didn’t lie to you. I promise. I never told you that we talked because we sit beside each other in class. We aren’t friends, Momma. She just doesn’t understand that I have other priorities, Momma.”

The words burned you to speak them. It felt a greater sin to forsake Ellie’s friendship than to lie to your mother and when the tears pricked your eyes you knew it to be true. “I’m sorry, Momma.”

“You’ve just lied to me again, haven’t you?” She asked and you nodded slowly. There wasn’t a god on this world or the next that would have you deny Ellie.

“She’s nice to me, Momma. She doesn’t treat me mean the way everyone else does.” You explained through your tears. “I just wanted one friend. Just one.”

“You have one friend. The only friend you need. Jesus Christ who died for your sins.” Your mother stood and walked towards you.

“It’s not a sin to love Ellie, Momma. She’s my best friend.” Your mother froze in place, her eyes narrowed at you. You realized your mistake a second too late. “Not like that, Momma. We’re just friends.”

“Praying ain’t enough for you, child.” She handed over the belt and you stared at it in confusion. You had expected her to hit you with it. Maybe you were too harsh on your mother. “Go on, ten lashes.”

“You want me to-”

“Over your back. You’ll have to take your top of but self flagellation will work better than prayer. Don’t go easy either, if it don’t hurt it ain’t working.” She urged and you stared at her, bile crawling up your throat. “Come on now.”

“Momma, I didn’t do anything wrong.” You sobbed but she didn’t move, watching you with those cold eyes. “Momma.”

“Ten. I’ll count.”

///

“Dude, where the hell were you?” Ellie exclaimed when you took your seat next to her almost four days later. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you fought the hiss of pain, leaning into the comfort of her embrace.

You had suffered for this sin, you might as well commit it now.

“Got sick.” You explained and she let you go, looking you over. You knew how you looked. Your eyes were puffy and you were walking with a stiffness that came from being on your knees praying for almost three days straight.

“Damn, you look like hell.” She whispered and you couldn’t help the laugh. Hell was only the half of it. You had been through it all and back again in the last four days and you had made a decision.

You were choosing Ellie. No matter the pain or the punishment, you weren’t going to lose Ellie. You’d rather face an eternity of Hell in the afterlife than choose a moment without her in this one.

“I missed you.” You told her quietly and let your head rest on her shoulder. It pulled at your back but the comfort outweighed the pain you were feeling and so you didn’t move. “I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too.” Ellie promised quietly, her head resting against yours. “And don’t be mad but Joel totally put his foot in it the other day. He asked you mom why you couldn’t sleep over. He didn’t know it was a secret.”

“Oh.” You tried to keep your voice steady. “She never said anything. Probably thought he had the wrong person.”

“Thats a relief. I didn’t want you to get in trouble over me.” Ellie sighed and the pair of you sat up when class began. Ellie kept her leg firmly against yours though and you were grateful for the comfort it offered.

When lunch came about Mrs Collins called your name and held you back while everyone else went to get food. You made you way up to her desk and she gave you a gentle smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” You promised her. Your mother had told everyone that you had been sick. You weren’t sure why it wasn’t a sin when she lied.

“Your mother told me you got a pretty nasty case of food poisoning?” Mrs Collins asked and you nodded, wondering was this another sin to pray for. “She also made a strange request.”

Your heart dropped and you looked back over your shoulder to where Ellie was waiting for you in the doorway, her back to you both. “Please don’t.”

“You want to tell me why she wouldn’t want you sitting by Ellie?” Mrs Collins asked and you shook your head, tears in your eyes. “If Ellie is hurting you or being mean to you then you can tell me.”

“No. She’s my best friend. Please don’t. I’m not allowed see her outside of school.” You explained in a rush, knowing you shouldn’t be sharing this much.

“Okay. It’s okay.” Mrs Collins insisted and you wiped at your face to dry the tears you didn’t mean to shed. “You and Ellie can stay beside each other. I’ll tell your mother I separated you both.”

///

“Only two weeks left.” You and Ellie were sixteen now, sitting with your backs against the school house. Well, Ellie was sitting back, you were a little more mindful of how the rough stone might hurt.

“What are we going to do then?” Ellie still didn’t understand the extent of your reasoning for why your mother couldn’t see you both being friends. She thought that you were old enough now to just make your own decisions.

“Well we could work together right? Your mom can’t stop that. You have to work in Jackson.” That much was true but you knew Ellie wanted to patrol just like Joel did. She had the urge to always be trying to save the world and you knew your mother wouldn’t allow it.

“You want to patrol. I’ll probably end up a waitress or in the greenhouses.” You sighed and ran a hand over your face. Ellie laughed a little and reached for your hand, tangling your fingers together and you paused, staring at them.

Ellie was turning steadily red but she didn’t let go, she tightened her grip and tugged so you’d turn to look at her. “I do want to patrol. But I want to spend time with you more. I can clean dishes or something if needs be.”

You stared at Ellie, your head tilted slightly as you studied her. She didn’t hide from you but she was blushing fully this time. You stared a second longer.

Oh.

Oh.

“Ellie.” You sighed before laughing. She attempted to free her hand but you held on tighter. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“How?” She exclaimed and it seemed like she had been holding this in for a long time with how it burst out of her. “I know you’re like super religious and most religious people hate gay people and we’re best friends and I don’t want to lose you.”

“Ellie.” You laughed again before reaching out and clasping her face in your hands. You didn’t give her a second, pulling her in and kissing her firmly. “I would walk into hell gladly knowing that I’ve held heaven in my hands.*”

“Oh you’re so fucking gay.” Ellie laughed and kissed you again, her fingers tangling in your hair. Those words should’ve terrified you but you had come to terms with it years ago while you willingly took lashings for punishment. You knew you’d take any form of torture to get to this point.

“I can’t tell anyone. Not yet. My momma will find out but Ellie, I’ve got a plan.” You promised and she smiled, her hand moving from your hair to cup your cheek.

“I haven’t told Joel yet. It’s okay.” She promised, her forehead pressing to yours.

///

You’d had a plan. It had been a good plan. Your best plan yet. Your plan did not factor Ellie and her teeth into account. The small mark she had made, definitely an accident, had given you away. Your mother had always been more than suspicious of Ellie and it seemed that even though a small bruise could be from any number of things it only made sense that it was her when paired with swollen lips and a light in your eyes.

“No.” She held the belt out to you and for the first time you refused it, shaking your head and crossing your arms. Fire burned in your mothers eyes and her jaw clenched.

“You have sins you need to repent for. You’ll burn in hell.” She cautioned and you felt the tears finally fall from your eyes, your bravery slipping away.

“Momma I love her. I’ve been in love with her since before I knew what it was.” You sobbed and she looked even angrier if possible. “How can this be wrong?”

“No child of mine will embarrass me like this before God himself.” Your mother insisted and you lifted your hands in desperation. “I won’t stand for it.”

“What more can you do?” You asked her quietly, desperately. Your love for Ellie wasn’t a flaw and it couldn’t be a sin. You didn’t want to be fixed or cured or healed. Something that felt this pure couldn’t be anything other than a blessing.

“I told you. I won’t have it.” Your mother insisted and you stared at her, unable to understand her threat. “The Lord says suicide is a sin but surely he’d understand I just couldn’t be tainted by your sin.”

“Momma, don’t do that.” You couldn’t help your tears. “It’s not bad. It’s not!”

“It is and you know it. You wouldn’t have hidden it if you weren’t ashamed of your sin.” She told you and you choked back on your sobs. “You knew that you’d never be without sin but to go and do this. I knew since you were born that you were filled with sin but I didn’t think it was cause you were one of them!”

“Momma! You know I can’t change it. I can’t. I love her.” You were choking on the tears and she only shook her head. “You can’t do that, Momma. You can’t.”

“You want me to stay alive then you stop seeing her.”

///

“Hey Angel, you okay?” Ellie asked and you blinked at her before shaking your head.

“I can’t do this. I thought I could but I can’t.” Your back was raw from the amount of repenting you had required the evening before.

“Can’t do what?” Ellie asked, unsure.

“This. Us. I thought I could reconcile it but it’s not something I can allow myself to do.” You told her, tears already flowing down your cheeks.

“What? Allow yourself to what?” Ellie asked. “Be fucking happy?”

“I won’t be happy if I move out of my Momma’s. I’ll never forgive myself for leaving her there.” You told Ellie honestly. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise this before.”

“You can’t be serious.” Ellie stared at you, her face guarded like you were going to laugh and tell her it was a sick joke. “You are serious.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You wanted her to understand but she was too heroic. She would try help if she thought this wasn’t your decision.

“Yeah. So am I for not taking your fucking word for it the first day I met you. I should’ve sat with someone else.”

///

“Saw your girl started patrol today.” You looked up from the soapy water in the sink to where your mother was standing by the back door. You blinked at her, coming out of the daze you had been in. “That ain’t no job for a woman.”

She had been horrible the last few weeks. Telling you all about Ellie’s coming and goings when you refused to leave the house for anything other than work. Washing dishes down at the Bison. Everyone had to do their part, you hated doing yours.

It wasn’t a bad job per se. You could zone out and let muscle memory take over as you scrubbed the plates clean. No one talked to you much on account of your mother and it got you out of the house for a few hours every evening.

The problem was Ellie came to the diner every night with Dina and Jesse. She didn’t linger and you doubted that she even knew you were in the back. But you always found a second to pause when you heard her voice, as familiar to you as your own heartbeat.

“You never had anything to say when any other women go on patrol. Maria’s been doing it since the walls went up.” Your head jerked back with her grip on your hair and her hand pressed to the spot between your shoulder blades causing you to hiss.

“I didn’t ask for your sass.” She warned and you blinked back tears from the pain. “I think you oughta get to praying.”

“I got work, Momma.” You told her and she gripped your hair tighter. Her hand dug into your back, nails pressing deep.

“Better go get the belt then if you’re in such a hurry.” Your mother spat and released your hair. “Every time you talk like that I get reminded that you’re a child of the devil.”

You had a hard time believing that having the devil for a mother would be any different than the Momma you had.

///

It was years before you saw the signs. You had turned twenty one under your mothers watchful glare. She threatened harm on herself if you so much as came home late from work. You wondered why you cared so much that she remained unharmed when you hadn’t been able to lie on your back for years.

It all became clear one night when you followed the noise of her downstairs. She was standing in the kitchen, looking around in confusion. “Baby, what’re you doing up so late?”

She hadn’t called you Baby in years. Not since before you had met Ellie. She claimed that no baby of hers could be full of sin. “Just checking you’re okay, Momma.”

“I’m fine. Just a little lost.” She told you, an airy laugh on her lips. “I can’t find the bathroom.”

She was standing in a puddle.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Dealing with her was both harder and easier after your discovery. Maria let you stay home and care for her when you went to her and explained what was happening. There wasn’t exactly a nursing home you could send her to.

She began to pass through phases, a different version of your mother every time you talked to her. Sometimes you had your Momma back, a sweet woman who told you how pretty you’d grown to be. Sometimes you had your mother, the one who remembered Ellie.

Then one morning, the month you were turning twenty two, you had no mother. She had fallen asleep in her rocking chair and that was where you found her.

You sat with her for a long time. Just staring at her and wondered when it had gotten to the point that you stopped caring about her. Her death didn’t seem to have done anything besides giving you a sense of freedom you had only ever felt once before with Ellie’s lips on yours and her hands in your hair.

You found it within yourself to change her and wash her. She wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to do it. You laid her out in her own bed and then made your way down to the clinic to get a doctor to finally free you from her.

///

You had elected not to have a funeral service for your mother. You hadn’t even attended her burial yourself. No one had liked your mother, not even you. Maria had tried to sympathize with you but you hadn’t let her. She was the only one who tried.

You found yourself moving out of her house and into a small one bedroom cottage Maria had offered up. You returned to the Bison to wash dishes. You lived a boring life without prayers or belts or a constant ache on your scalp from having your hair pulled out by the root.

You could read books and leave the dishes overnight and play music that didn’t mention Jesus. Your back healed up but would forever be scarred but you knew without a doubt that your pain was at an end.

It had ended alongside her heartbeat and you knew for sure it was a bad thing to think but you no longer punished yourself for bad thoughts.

You no longer punished yourself.

///

A knock on the door gave you a pause and you looked up from your book to the living room window but you couldn’t see your front porch from the angle you were sat at. Just the pouring rain that had washed into Jackson a couple of days ago.

You pushed yourself up and answered the door, expecting Maria who came to check up on you monthly to make sure you hadn’t succumbed to madness while being so isolated.

It wasn’t Maria. It was Ellie.

She was soaked, rain water running down her hair and face into her clothes. You couldn’t say anything and chose instead to just stare at her as she left a puddle on your porch.

“Your mom died?” She asked and you marveled in how you had gone from speaking to her every day for almost four years to have gone longer without her words aimed at you.

“She did.” You answered slowly after a few minutes of just the rain for background noise. You continued to stare at her.

“I’m sorry.” You blinked, falling out of your trance at the condolences she offered. You folded your arms across your chest.

“What do you want Ellie?” You didn’t mean to sound harsh but you didn’t want her apologies. You wanted her to leave so you could get on with your quiet life.

“I want to know if she was the reason.” Ellie stopped pretending the second you did, grim determination on her face.

“We were kids, Ellie.” You sighed and she wiped the water off her face and clenched her jaw. “You can’t be still thinking about it.”

“Still thinking about it?” She exclaimed. “I ain’t stopped thinking about you. I’ve spent the last six years wondering if your mom wasn’t around would we be together.”

“Ellie.” You sighed heavily, stepping back from the doorway. She looked panicked for a second and you opened the door wider. “Come in before you catch your death.”

///

You got Ellie clothes to change into and a towel to dry herself off. When she returned to your living room she was wrapped in your clothes, toweling her hair dry. You had lit the small fire in your living room and now you were standing by the window, watching the rain.

“I didn’t know she had died.” Ellie spoke quietly and you looked up at her, releasing a sigh. You took a seat on your sofa, inviting Ellie to sit next to you. “Maria mentioned it in passing while we were at dinner. I came straight over here.”

“She had dementia or Alzheimer’s. One of those. It was bound to happen.” You explained to her and she nodded slowly.

“I know you really loved her.” Ellie sighed and you turned your head to look at her.

“I didn’t. Not really. I had a really tough life with her.” You explained to Ellie and she nodded like she had always known that. She didn’t get to nod like that. She didn’t know the half of it. “I think she had her sickness my whole life. She was batshit insane.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Ellie asked and you shrugged. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t been able to tell anyone. Mostly, you reasoned, you hadn’t known she was sick. How could you tell Ellie that you thought you were the problem? That you were so full of sin even your own mother couldn’t love you?

“It was my problem to deal with.” You told her honestly. “What are you really doing here?”

“To see if your okey. To see if there’s a chance we got it wrong at sixteen.” Ellie turned to face you, drawing her knees up to her chest. You couldn’t look at her.

“We?” You asked, picking at your nail beds and ignoring how close she was, how your body lit up in response.

“Yeah. We. You for calling it all off and me for letting you walk away.” You turned to look at her, incredulous. “I shouldn’t have given up.”

“That’s exactly what you should’ve done. Anything else would’ve made it so much worse.” You told her, pinching the bridge of your nose to ward off the headache you could feel coming.

“I could’ve helped!” Ellie insisted. “I could’ve given you the support you needed.”

“You couldn’t have made me straight!” You yelled, standing up from the sofa. You paced back to the window, staring out at the rain. “I needed to not be like this. You couldn’t have fixed that. She hated me.”

“She was your mother.” Ellie argued and you scoffed, fighting the urge to turn and look at her. “She had to have loved you.”

“She told me she’d kill herself if I went back to you.” You turned then, wanting to see the look in her eyes. The look of disgust because you gave in, you let her control you. But Ellie didn’t look disgusted, she looked horrified. “I came home one evening with swollen lips and this tiny mark on my jaw and she knew what we’d been doing. She told me that if I kept talking about loving you that she’d kill herself to not be stained by my sin.”

“She was sick. She didn’t know what she was-” your hand went to the hem of your T-shirt, pulling it up so that she could see your back. The criss cross of scars that overlapped. Years of torture and abuse. All of it culminating in this. “Angel.”

Ellie breathed that old nickname and you dropped your shirt but she caught it, having moved closer without your knowing. Her fingers ghosted over your skin and her breath came out shaky.

“When did this start?” Ellie asked and you laughed bitterly. “This isn’t a fucking joke. When did it start?”

“The day Joel asked for a sleepover. I told you she couldn’t know. I guess you just didn’t understand why.” She let your shirt drop and you turned around to find yourself face to face with her. “She told me that I was damned at five years of age. She used to make me pray in the dark for hours at a time. When I was twelve she made me hurt myself to repent for the sin of loving you. I never could. I repented for not being sorry instead.”

“I could’ve helped. I could’ve gotten you out.” Ellie sighed, her hand coming up to your cheek. You leaned into her and closed your eyes against the emotions that were welling up. “I could’ve fucking killed her for you.”

“I would’ve taken you up on that. Isn’t the awful?” You asked her but she shook her head, wrapping her arms around you. “I was so relieved when she died.”

“Guess I don’t have to feel bad for feeling the same way. I always knew it was her. Cause this, what’s going on with us, we might’ve been kids but I know what I felt, Angel. This was the real deal.” Ellie whispered against your neck and then you let it happen. You let the tears fall. You held her tightly and you sobbed for everything you could’ve had for the last six years.

///

You were sitting on the sofa, curled up against Ellie’s chest. Her hands softly stroked your hair and you were struck silent by the parallel of your mother doing the exact opposite, hurting you so violently.

“So you gonna cut me loose or keep me this time?” Ellie asked quietly. You looked up at her and without speaking cupped her cheek in your hand and pulled her down to your level. You pressed a sweet kiss to her lips and she smiled. “Not afraid of Hell any more?”

“If loving you leads me to hell then I’ll sit at the table with all the others who gave up the idea of an eternity of heaven for a short time with the true meaning of paradise.”

*Lyra Wren on tiktok

[ouroborosorder]

Guide Ahead Means Something To Me

Writing about Guide Ahead is…. extremely difficult, for a few reasons. One is that it is a very dense story, and to fully unpack it would require an essay so unfocused that it would be functionally unreadable. But the biggest one is that Guide Ahead is a story that focuses really heavily on the subjective nature of interpretation. How can I speak authoritatively on the thematic meaning of the plot when even a basic description of its events demands a deeper poetic interpretation?

The answer is “I can’t.” So, let’s piss off my English teacher, and coat an entire essay in the phrase “in my opinion.” Because I have to get personal if I’m going to tell you why Guide Ahead is my favorite video game story ever told.

I was raised Mormon. My mother was religious, but my father was absolutely not. You can understand why I related to Cecilia basically immediately.

Ultimately, the thing that draws me to Guide Ahead is the very thing that makes it hard to write about. Guide Ahead is, in my reading, a story about the subjectivity of divine meaning.

The most obvious manifestation, and the most important, is Law. But, Law’s execution, in traditional Arknights fashion, is kinda unclear, so I’ll recap for those who have hobbies outside of this, unlike me.

Law is the supercomputer buried underneath Laterano, and is the sentient religion that binds all the Sankta together into a hivemind of sorts. The Sankta are actually just Sarkaz connected to Law, given halos, wings, and empathic communication between each other. But, the main thing they gain, is a biological impulse to obey the Lateran religion’s thirteen doctrines. Anyone who breaks these doctrines are marked as Fallen, are cut off from the empathic connection, and slowly revert back to Sarkaz. Law represents religion as a concept and a community. Saints and sinners are just one and the same. But despite that, the laws of religion are created just to perpetuate the existence of a special in-group. One enforced by empathic connection they cannot share with anyone outside of them. That is Patia’s point - the Sankta have created an “us” and a “them,” and even the devout Liberi are not seen as “us.” They’re just converts, not real Sankta.

But, Falling has… weird grey areas. Like how Andoain was able to shoot Lemuen, or draw his gun on the fucking Pope, and not Fall in the process. This is because the doctrines are not actually the guidelines they’re held to. The Doctrines are subjective interpretations of the objective Law that they are all beholden to. That Law being “It must survive.” Law only is interested in the perpetuation of Itself, and, as a result, the continued existence of the Sankta as a societal structure.

This is the first and strongest example of what I mean when I say Guide Ahead is about meaning. Law says that the failure of religion is ultimately that religions supplant any subjective meanings with an “objective” meaning. But this “objective” meaning is just another person’s interpretation of the in-group’s best interest. Laws biologically programmed into the Sankta’s souls are revealed to be nothing but interpretation of Law’s interpretation of events.

People Fall not because they have broken a concrete law, but because Law… because the in-group has decided they did. Or when they broke the rules, they did something that’s good for the church. There is no objective laws within the Lateran religion, no matter what the machine is named. The system just declares sin when it deems worthy, and absolution when sin is a benefit.

It is this very hypocrisy that drives Andoain.

——————————————————————————————————

I remember being pulled aside at church one day. Everyone above 14 was given a sermon about the recent legalization of gay marriage. He said it was wrong, the church would never accept it. I asked him if it was like the time the church refused to give black people the Priesthood. He said this was different. I asked him how. He did not answer. I left and someone followed me out. He asked if I was okay. I told him whatever he was saying in there was not the teachings of any god that I know, and wasn’t the teachings of any god that loves me. I kept going to church after that, but deep down, I think I didn’t believe in it anymore. I didn’t feel like part of the community, I lost that reciprocation with my people. I just… began to think.

Andoain, as an antagonist, is defined by a search for meaning. He was the bishop of an Iberian church, and Iberia is doing pretty bad lately. His request for aid from Laterano was denied, and the message was clear to him. “You are one of us, but they are not.” But that answer just created a new question. Why? Why would those who claim faith and utopia as their ideals reject those who are suffering?

He searched for an answer in exile, and he didn’t find one. Instead, he found another story. The Sarkaz man who died in the watchtower to warn a town who hated him of an invading force. And this story made his question develop. Why would someone who is hated by everyone give their life to protect those very people? And why would those people then cry over the grave of someone they hated?

He had seen the realities of the Sarkaz and Sankta laid bare, but he couldn’t figure out the meaning behind it. He tells Cecilia these stories, knowing full well he doesn’t know what to make of them. I think he tells them to hope he finds the point partway through.

——————————————————————————————————

As much as I hate the Mormon church for dear god everything they’ve ever done holy shit look at them? My feelings are predictably complicated. Years later, my family fell upon hard times. I don’t want to say more than that for my own sake. We were struggling to even live. But… the church helped us. None of us gone to church for years, but they offered a hand. They gave us access to the Bishop’s Storehouse, gave us food and supplies for free, because we were starving. 

And yes, I know. I know they do this in an attempt at creating a false brotherhood in an effort to create a fascist sense of community. I have also read that part of Brothers Karamazov. I have also read Guide Ahead, come to think of it. But… Shit. Most of them tried to pretend we didn’t exist when we met them in the grocery store. And… they still helped us. In their eyes, I was Fallen.

But still, they saved us, and didn’t even ask for faith in return. I still can’t figure out why.

This is why I just… can’t see Andoain as a villain. I mean, yeah, he shot Lemuen, but even she doesn’t blame him for shooting his friends while holding the Stick That Makes You Shoot Your Friends. His entire goal is an attempt to sort through the cognitive dissonance between what the church tells him and what the church does. A dissonance that is, because of Law and the doctrines, innate to what the church is. An experience that should feel damn familiar to anyone who has spent time as an apostate. His plan is to simply confront the Pope about this hypocrisy, to get an answer, to find a meaning.

The answer he gets back is… It Must Survive. Law must survive. The in-group must survive. It doesn’t matter if we cry over the grave of the Sarkaz, because the Sarkaz would die for us. He searched for the answer to a question, the meaning of a statement. You are one of us. They are not. All this time, he searched for the meaning of those words, but in reality, those words were the meaning. That was all they ever had to say. He just needed to accept that.

…but if the in-group is all that mattered… why allow Mostima in Laterano? Why give her her position? She’s not needed for the survival of the in-group, the Law has deemed her an exile.

And… Why not Andoain?

Before he leaves, his gun is taken from him. A gun that, according to the church, has meaning. A meaning he takes as truth. He believes a part of him is left behind there. I don’t think he realizes it, but Mostima and Fiammetta are the question he left behind. They are Not Sankta, but yet they are accepted. And… I don’t know if there is a meaning to that. I still can’t figure out why.

——————————————————————————————————

For a long time, I missed those days spent in the community I had left. I would remember the things I left behind. The churchball basketball games we were destined to lose. The conversations held on the roof of the storage building behind the church. The scouting activities that were clearly an excuse to go bowling. The shitty halloween parties with the game where you ate donuts tied to a string hanging from a fishing pole. I missed it, for a time. I couldn’t help but look back.

Cecilia is searching for meaning to almost everything. When Andoain tells his stories to Cecilia, he tells her that he can’t find the meaning of them. That if there is meaning to be found, she’ll have to find it herself. So. She does.

Cecilia was faced with the same situation Andoain was obsessed with. But for her, it wasn’t hypothetical. She existed between Us and Them. She felt the pull between the community and the love and fun they represent, and the outsiders who were hated and rejected by the people around her. Society told her the meaning of her dual identity, the meaning behind each half, and then told her to choose. But… she’d experienced otherwise. She’d felt the kindness of the Sarkaz from the Pathfinders, and the hatred from the Church. She’d felt things that contradicted the meaning that she was told was true.

Her story isn’t just being forced to pick a side between the church or apostacy, it’s being forced to pick what meaning she ascribes to the world. Ultimately, that’s why her answer can only be her own. Your belief is… subjective.

And she answered… with a bell. A Sarkaz girl, bearing a halo, ringing a bell that has not been rung since the Sankta were still called Teekaz. A bell that once marked the beginning of the new era. A bell that carries the weight of a Sarkaz, hated by the place they called home. A bell that rings with the melody of a Sarkaz lullaby once sung by a Sankta. A bell that asserts her answer. She’s not Sarkaz, she’s not Sankta. She is Cecilia.

Everyone else finds their own subjective meaning within that action. Something as mundane as the ringing of the bell suddenly has more meaning than divine scripture.

No one else understood the nuance of what she said, but they understood parts of it. They understood what they wanted to. Those who know nothing of Lateran culture understand it as just… a beautiful welcome, celebrating the arrival of talks of peace. Most have their meaning determined by the church’s traditions. The pious see it as the beginning of a new era, whatever that signals to them. To the Church, it is that their talks will bring about a new era of peace. To the Pathfinders, it is a signal to begin their attack on Laterano to begin their new era.

There is so much meaning in that action, but in the end, it’s still just a fucking bell. There’s got to be hundreds, maybe thousands of them in Laterano. But this bell meant something more than the other bells. This bell had meaning, and that meaning made it divine.

This, to me, is what Guide Ahead has to say. That there is so much meaning to be found in something as mundane as a ringing bell. Within such a simple action, there is personal expression, liberation, the sound of change. And in all of this, there is the echoes of divinity, the echoes of faith, as if all of these things are, in themselves, divine.

——————————————————————————————————

When I left the church, I couldn’t help but look back, still tethered to a community who hated me. I think I wished I could stop looking back. I don't know if I realized I was.

In the end, everyone else looks back. They still have meaning to be found in Laterano. Andoain looks back, a part of his soul anchored there by the symbol he was told to believe in. Mostima looks back, knowing she’ll return just as she always does. Fiammetta looks back, because she refuses to let herself leave. Ezell looks back, unsure if he will be able to return home after what he has found.

But… Cecilia doesn’t. She has decided that she is not defined by the church, or the meaning they try to give her. She has decided to leave Laterano and see the world outside of it, to explore the world around her and find the meaning for herself.

And the last thing Cecilia does is... defined by ambiguous meaning. She sees Andoain walking in the sunset - and a word appears to her. The title of Martyr. A title she doesn’t understand the meaning or weight of, but that she feels is appropriate regardless. A title that, to other people, would mean something more. But to her, brings to mind the saints she heard of as a youth, a word her mother told her was important.

The story is ending, and they end it with an assertion. Cecilia is finding meaning, and others will find what they will within. Perhaps even she doesn't know all of it.

A while back, during a theater rehearsal, I suddenly remembered a conversation I had years before I left the church. I remembered speaking with my friends outside of the chapel after a sunday service. My friend said a sentence that has stuck with me ever since. “I don’t think science goes against God. I think God uses science and math. I think those things are holy, because they’re… what everything is made of.”

I remember looking around the rehearsal space and thinking that if science could be sacred, then… so is this moment, now. So is my time spent with the people I love. This is sacred. What I missed, what kept me looking back. It wasn’t the actual religion, but instead… just belonging to something. So… I stopped looking back. In that moment, however fleeting it was, I had found whatever it was I needed.

—————————————————————————————————

Look. You probably had a different interpretation of Guide Ahead. This story is just… So goddamn dense. There is so much there that I didn’t even touch on. For the love of god, I just did an analysis of Guide Ahead and didn’t even really discuss Fiammetta?? What kind of hack writer am I? (I just… couldn’t talk about her without being more personal than I am willing to be in public.)

If you have an interpretation that is different than mine, that’s great. I encourage you to hold on to it, and hold it close. That meaning is yours, and yours alone, and that’s a precious thing.

Because to me, what I found… is that very idea.

There is meaning to be found in anything - and a meaning that is yours, and yours alone. All you have to do is find meaning. and the idea that there is meaning to the world, that everything has meaning not because there is a “true” meaning to it, but because we find one there, because we put one there… that makes everything feel… divine, to me.

So… wherever you find meaning, you can find the divine.

You can find divinity in a ringing bell. In a terrible cactus tart. A carnival game you know how to beat. The promises of peace around a table. A cup of coffee. A city you hate. A community you love. A flower growing near a grave. A weapon you carry. A people you surround yourself with.

Those are all… holy to me.

And to me… that meaning is enough.

I hope yours is for you.

[themotherofhorses]

im begging you, dark!aemond bodyguard of the president/king’s innocent daughter omggggg

pairing: bodyguard!aemond targaryen x president's daughter!reader

warnings: explicit language. oral sex. loss of virginity (kinda). daddy kink. slight breeding and housewife kink. small mentions of past obsessive tendencies on aemond's part.

notes: hello, long time no write. consider this me using this request like i'm saddling the horse after getting thrown off.

(also ik aemond might not seem AS dark as other times but like pretty pls read between the lines. thank you ☺️)

masterlist

For being the nation’s current president, your father was quite the fucking fool of a man.

He loves you, truly. How could he not? You were the spitting image of your late mother, and the youngest of his children- his sweet little chick that was barely beginning to spread her wings and leave the nest. He would never forgive himself if you ever got hurt due to his elected role as the commander-in-chief and head of state.

That was the main reason why he hired Aemond Targaryen as your personal bodyguard.

The man had a commendable record behind him, despite his young age. Your father was beyond impressed with him when he first interviewed him for the job. Two tours in the U.S. army as a sergeant and sniper before receiving an honorable discharge and a Purple Heart due to an eye injury while seeing combat overseas. According to some of the everyday politicians, he threw himself over his younger nephew during an ambush with enemy fire, and took a massive chunk of bomb shrapnel to the left side of his face; doctors saved him, of course, but his eye was too damaged to save.

They offered him a glass eye and a fully paid scar revision (along with special vet benefits and apparently some hush-hush money as well), but he refused it all. Instead, he accepted the purple heart, crammed a pretty and shiny sapphire into his empty socket, and made sure everyone- military personnel and civilian altogether- looked him in both eyes whenever they addressed him.

The rumors were true- Sergeant Aemond One-Eye was as terrifying as he was deadly.  

Perhaps that was the reason why it did not take very long for him to be buried between your thighs.

You never had a boyfriend before, always too devoted towards your college academic and hobbies, and way too protected and overshadowed by your father. But it was Aemond who stole your first kiss, two months into his new job as your bodyguard. He had been accompanying you on a small shopping trip to the mall, treating it as a sort of bonding experience. When you had mentioned the new lip gloss you were trying out (it was flavored ‘chai latte’), he had asked to taste it.

Okay! you giggled, thinking nothing of it; only for it to be a week later and with his head in between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man.

“Stop it…! Aemond! My daddy might walk in!” You cried, tossing your head back against the pillows as you bit down on your bottom lip to stop the moans from tumbling out. It was all in stupid vain; your bodyguard had you putty in his hands. Anything he wanted, you would happily give him- yourself included. “A-Aemond…!” How could he ever stop? Not when you sounded oh so fucking pretty, so sweet and yummy, his newfound favorite meal served to him on a silver platter, just ready to be completely devoured.

Aemond shook his head. “I don’t give the tiniest shit, babygirl,” he muttered as he sucked on your clit, only pausing every few seconds to kiss your soaked pussy. He had to be soft as well, considering this was a fucking dream come true for him.

The poor bastard remembered all the times he saw you on the television, in those paparazzi photos and the Christmas cards and those gorgeous social media posts of yours. No one would ever understand just how badly he wanted you, and the lengths he went just to have you.

And, well, maybe you should’ve thought first before stepping out in that sinful, short-cut and backless blue dress, the one that made you look perfect for him to knock up, his pretty little housewife. Perfect for him. Made for him. He kept your legs wide open with the tightest grips as he feasted on your cunt, ignoring your desperate (but adorable) attempts to push him away.

“If you can’t handle this, how will you handle my cock?” he tutted. “Poor baby, I’m going to fucking destroy you.”

Everything made your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure, especially when you felt him lick a large stripe up your pussy before he shoved his face in only deeper. You squealed, hiding your face from behind your hands. You could feel his nose, his chin, the heavy pants and low growls and soft kisses he peppered along inner thighs. “And what did I say to call me?” before he gave your ass a hard spank.

You whimpered, already on the verge of sobbing. Fat tears were streaking down your cheekbones. “I-I’m sorry…s-so sorry, daddy!”

Oh but your entire body felt like it was lit on fire- a burning yet tightening sensation nestled deep within your belly. It was so strange. You didn’t know what to make of it. Your head lolled to the side while your back arched up from the bed and your hand found Aemond’s long, whitish-blond hair.

(A common genetic mutation in his family, according to him. Some of the politicians mocked it as the ‘new Habsburg jaw’. You thought it made him look all the godlier.)

His hands soon slid up to your breast, palming and tweaking your nipples between his fingers. Your toes curled as you felt ready to explode at any second. “Daddy!” you mewled, peering down through teary eyes to watch as his face shook side-to-side. His own face held sheer bliss, especially when he brought a finger to trace along your drenched folds. “Daddy…! Daddy! Ah, gods, please!”  

“Yeah, that is right, pretty baby, I’m your new daddy now.”

Your father was none the wiser to the fact that, every night, his youngest daughter’s bodyguard had her in a mating press every night, whispering into her ear that it would not be long until she made him into a real daddy.

It was the least you could do in return, considering he was protecting your life with his.

After boring meetings and countless banquets and your a.m. college classes, Aemond would be quick to shove your panties in your mouth before bending you over the nearest furniture set.

You were his.

All his.

His pretty baby, his sweet little future housewife, the girl whose picture he used to secretly carry in one of the vest pockets during his days in the military.  

One day, your father pulled him aside and offered him a bonus.

“Truth is, son, you’re doing such a fine job at protecting her. I don’t worry as much as I did before you came along. We could not ask for a better bodyguard, Sergeant,” he admitted, patting him on the back. “Would there be anything you’d like in payment? A vacation? A bonus? Some free time with your family? I know you miss your mother very much; my little girl told me.”

But Aemond shook his head, declining everything. “Sir, with all due respect, your daughter feels like my new family now, considering how close we’ve grown in these past several months, and my duty in keeping her safe. I would prefer to remain by her side if you would allow it,” he said, and your father gave him a cheeky grin.

“Should I perhaps be worried, Sergeant?”

“Of course not, Mr. President. I adore your daughter, but only as a brother would his little sister.”

So it was true, it seemed- your father, bless his heart, was quite the fucking fool of a man. It should’ve been no surprise to him at all that seven months down the line from his conversation with your bodyguard, you would be trying to hide a swollen baby bump from everyone's eyes.

And if he really was smart, then he would’ve remembered the reason why the Targaryens were so often compared to the old Habsburgs of Austria.

[hi-avathisside]

As long as you're with me, I'm going to be alright

As long as you're with me, I'm going to be alright. I'm going to be alright, no matter how mean and cruel this world is to me. No matter how many people I lose, how much love this world takes away from me, But, as long as you're with me, I'm going to be alright.

No matter how many times the world is harsh and gives me new wounds everyday, as long as I can come back to you at the end of the day, as long as I get to be in your arms, I would take a thousand more cuts on my skin just to feel your embrace once more.

No matter how much my mother hits me, no matter how much my father yells at me, I know that you're here and I'm going to be alright. You're going to be alright and We're going to be alright. We have to be alright.

No matter what happens, as long as we stick together, and talk late at nights , as I tell you about my day, make myself vulnerable as you do the same, Tell you about my wounds, my cuts and how deeply rooted are they in me, You must tell me about yours, too. Tell me about the time your mother yelled at you when you were six, and you had to cry yourself to sleep alone. I will tell you about why I flinch whenever someone closes a door too harshly. But as long as I have you by my side, I know I will be alright, because I will have a hand to hold whenever I flinch. Tell me about the time when you played with your siblings, giggling in the park, and I will tell you about how me and my siblings stay up at night usually, in the dead silence of our house and just take few breathes freely. Tell me about how you love your hobbies and why a teacher in your 2nd grade inspired you to have this hobby and I'll tell you about why I love making art.

Tell me all the details, the special ones, the normal ones, all of the intricate details that have sewn your soul together. I will tell you about mine, my cracks and crevices in my soul and I will tell you about the overgrown plants which envelope my soul and why there's a little part of it which is rotting away in darkness. I will tell you about all of that because I know you would embrace them, and love them as I love you. I know I'll be alright with you.

You tell me about that scar over your eyebrow and I will tell you about a tattoo I have on the back of my leg. Tell me about all your sins and cuts, all your insecurities and vulnerabilities, all the edges and see me love them because they're beautiful. They're beautiful because they're a part of you. They're you.

I'll be alright if I'm with you. I would protect you from all harm and you'd do the same. We would look out for each other. You would have my back, and I will have yours. We will survive through this together.

As long as I have you, I'll be alright.

As long as I have you, I would not forget how to smile. I would not forget how to laugh and giggle, and blush, and how to feel happy. As long as I am with you I will know what happiness means.

Remember the time we laughed and giggled while coming back from school ? It had been 3 days since I had last smiled, and It was with you, that I couldn't stop smiling. As long as I was with you, I didn't need to worry about my parents at the house, or how they yelled at me and how I cry myself to sleep every night. I didn't have to remember about the nights, or the days. Or about my sister in the hospital, or about how I will figure everything out. All I could feel was that moment and that was okay too. It was more than okay you know, it was like I had been filled with life inside out, even for a moment I felt happy and alive.

"And we laugh into the microphone and sing, With our sunglasses on, to our favorite songs."

As long as I have you, I know I will have someone who has my back. No matter how much I fuck up, or life fucks me up, you would stay by my side while I figure my mess out. And I would do the same. I would do the same. No matter how many times there are downfalls and low points in life, one person whom I would find besides me all the time is you. You.

Remember the time we both sang songs and giggled for god-knows-how-long but it was good. It was really great.

Remember the time when you said it'd be alright in the end and I believed it because the way your eyes had that warm, brown, comforting softness and that sea of beautiful emotions, and the way your eyes were slightly teary hearing what was troubling me and how there was the slightest of smile on your face when you said that, and oh- how you put your hand over mine and said "It'd be alright."

I know It'd be alright as long as I have you by my side.

"Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby

As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine

Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby

Nothing's gonna take you from my side."

from,

-A

WROTE THIS JUST NOW AND THEN EDITED AND POSTED THIS AND I AM IN LOVEEEE WITH WHAT I WROTE. PROUD AFFF

[bloodwrittenballad]

Sweet And Sinful Surprise | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: In which you finally get to show Bradley the nipple piercings you got in secret while he was gone on deployment… and lets just say he really fucking likes them

Warnings: Smut, bradley “pussy eating champ” bradshaw, lots of boob love, swearing, praise, soft but also kinda rough sex. just roo lovin on his lady. 18+ ONLY, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS GET BLOCKED!!! as always, feedback is appreciated. also, writing this made me want to get my nipples pierced more than I already did before

Looking at the clock hung above the kitchen sink, you smiled as you read it was almost six thirty. Almost there, you thought with much anticipation. Any minute now, and Bradley would come tumbling through the door of your shared home.

You couldn’t wait.

It’s been six months since you last saw Bradley, you missed him dearly. Deployments were always hard on both of you, this one being no different as you longed to see each other again. Six months of not seeing him, kissing him, touching him… That was painful.

You always tried your best to keep yourself occupied and useful when he was gone, using the time you weren’t at work or running errands to try out new recipes and perfect them, starting up new hobbies - only to abandon them shorty after - you even had a habit of changing up your appearance every once in a while as a little surprise for him.

This time was no different. Six months since you last seen Bradley, and six months since the best decision you’ve ever made - other than dating Bradley, of course. Getting your nipples pierced had been a spur of the moment kind of thing, but the idea had been there a while, you just never thought you’d actually go along with it.

However, a few days after Bradley left for deployment, you found yourself bored. How you came to the conclusion that getting your nipples pierced then was a good idea, you’re not sure. But in the end it turned out to be perfect, because now they were fully healed and ready to go for tonight.

Finishing the last few touches on the dinner you made for Bradley’s arrival, you sat the table and lit a few candles. Then you waited. It was a short time, but nonetheless it felt torturous. Finally, at seven on the dot, the sound of the front door opening and closing caught your attention. “Honey, I’m hoooome!” Bradley’s voice rang out.

A squeal ripped through you as you ran towards him, barely giving him enough time to drop his bags before flinging yourself into his arms. He caught you with ease, welcoming you into your embrace as he held you tight, kissing your head and savoring your scent.

“Missed you so much,” you mumbled against his chest. “Missed you too, baby.” He said, pulling away just enough to kiss you. You immediately returned the kiss, falling closer into him if that was even possible. He moaned, having missed the way your lips felt on his. “God, wanted to do that f’so long now.” Bradley spoke once the kiss was broken.

You smiled up at him, before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek and grabbing his hand. You led him to the kitchen, where the dinner you had made was set up on the table with wine glasses at the ready. “I made your favorite.” You whispered, hand still in his as you began leading him to the table. But before you could, Bradley was pulling you into your arms again.

“As much as that sounds and smells amazing, there’s something else I’d much rather eat right now.” His lips nipped at the skin of your neck, causing you to gasp. “Bradley Bradshaw! I go through all the trouble of making you a nice dinner for your welcome home and all you can think about is sex?” You laughed.

“Cant help it, baby. Been thinking ‘bout that pretty little pussy and how much I couldn’t wait until it was mine again.” Warmth and wetness immediately began to pool at his words, you moaned. “So, what do you say? Shall we take this to the bedroom?”

Without much to think on, you said; “fuck it, dinner can wait. Wanna show you something anyways.”

“Oh?” Bradley spoke, clearly intrigued as he slowly backed the two of you into the bedroom. “Uh huh, but you’re just gonna have to wait and see.” With that, the two of you found yourselves in a messy make out. You sat on his lap, hands in his hair while his hands roamed your body, both of you grinding and whining and needing more.

“Clothes. Off. Now.” You said throughout kisses, only breaking apart when Bradley disposed of his shirt. The tan skin immediately had your attention as you palmed against his muscular torso. His pants came off next, as did yours, leaving you both in your underwear. Well, almost.

Bradley bundled up the shirt you still wore in his fists, a small frown on his face. “No fair,” he said which caused you to smile and life. “That’s just apart of the surprise, baby. Gotta be patient.” Bradley groaned.

“Don’t wanna be patient, just wanna fuck my girlfriend.” He said, and you let out another small laugh before shaking your head and discarding the thin fabric. “Alright, there you go, you big baby.”

Now you were left in your bra, the lacy fabric you bought for tonight had Bradley’s eyes wide as he ogled the sight of your breasts. “Is that my surprise?” he asked, licking his lips and clearly liking what he saw. A smirk rose to your lips, “part of it.” you spoke, and his eyes somehow grew wider. “There’s more?” Asked Bradley, and instead of answering, you just slowly slipped the bra off and let it hit the floor.

As soon as it did and you were fully exposed, Bradley’s face soon resembled that of a kid on Christmas morning. He was stunned to pure amazement as he stared at you, more so at your breasts and the little piercings that adorned them.

“Holy shit,” was all he managed. “Fuck.”

“You like what you see?” You asked, knowing he did but also feeling slightly nervous that there was a small possibility he didn’t. But before you could let any other thought like that pass, Bradley asked;

“Can I touch them?” His hands were laying flat on the bed, but you could see them twitching with desperation and need. “Yeah, baby. You can touch them.” Without needing anymore permission, Bradley’s hands reached up to grab at your chest.

The second his rough and calloused hands met your skin, you moaned. It was a delightful feeling, and he was being so gentle, but you needed more. Reaching up with your own hand, you helped guide his. “You can be more rough, baby. It’s okay. See, like this.” With your help, Bradley’s hands tightened their grip.

“God, s’hot. Fuck, you’re amazing.” Bradley praised, eyes still wide in amazement as he looked up from your chest and into your eyes. You smiled, kissing him lightly. He stayed like that for a while, kissing you while playing with your breasts and really getting a feel for his favorite new addition to your body, while you slowly grinded against him.

Your moans and his hums of fascination were the only noise going on in the room, before Bradley asked once more that night; “can I put them in my mouth?” The outright neediness and desperation in his voice had you moaning even more as you nodded.

And, just like that, he wasted no time.

“Fuuuuuck baby,” Bradley groaned against the skin of your exposed chest, his breath hot against you he took one of them into his mouth and kneaded the other. His free hand worked on your nipple with expertise, flicking and pinching the hardened flesh gently. Meanwhile, the one in his mouth was getting sucked and tugged on gently by his teeth. Moans and pleas left your lips in a prayer, worshiping him like he was a god and he was blessing you with his skilled touches.

“Love these tits so much, so big and pretty. All mine.” The praise made you light headed, his words going through you like helium as he lifted you with filthy sweet nothings. “And these piercings,” Bradley’s tongue flicked the one on your left breast, soon moving to the right. “So fucking sexy, baby girl.”

He continued showering you with love, paying the most attention to your sensitive nipples, as he kissed down the valley of your breasts to the warm skin of your stomach before finally reaching the inside of your thighs. He lifted your legs over his shoulders, situating himself between them and getting more than comfortable.

His lips left fluttering kisses up and down your legs, the rough feeling of his mustache making you hotter and wetter as each second passed. “Oh, god, baby. Bradley, fuck, need you so bad!” you moaned, begs and whimpers you couldn’t hold back ringing out in the room as Bradley moved back up to your thighs.

He kissed and sucked at the gentle skin, nose bumping against your clit. Your back arched, every nerve on fire the closer he got to the place you so desperately needed to be touched. “Can’t wait to eat this sweet little pussy, been thinking about it nonstop ever since I left.” Bradley said in mumbles, you whined at the confession. “Then stop wasting time and start doing,” you cooed in great anticipation

Bradley smirked against your thighs, loving the way they clenched around his head. “Yes ma’am,” he grinned. With that, he was pulling down your panties. His tongue flattened against your now exposed pussy, sending a flurry of wonderful sensations all throughout you. Bradley ate you like a man starved, mouth never stopping it’s delightful pace as he licked and sucked at your puffy clit.

“Tastes so good, babygirl. So sweet, fuckin needed this.” He complimented, never faltering in how well he lapped at your juices. And you, god you were the picture of perfection. How you moaned so pretty, face twisted in pleasure while your back arched and your breasts bounced when you did so. “Need more,” you cried out. His fingers were one of the only things on your mind, had been for months. You craved them

“Whatcha need, sweet girl?” Bradley asked you, his eyes capturing yours as he looked up from between your thighs. “Your fingers!” you moaned, breathless and needy. “Where do you want ‘em?” he asked, a smirk on his face. Because he knew. He knew exactly what you wanted, but he wanted to hear it. Hear the desperation in your voice as you begged him to fuck you with his thick fingers. “In-inside! Please!” you mewed.

“Anything for you,” he promised. It was like pure, hot electricity. The way he began with his fingers sliding up and down your slit, collecting your slick and rubbing it around, before slowly beginning to sink his fingers inside you with ease. “God, fuck, so tight.” He groaned, loving the way your walls welcomed him in with warmth and how they squeezed around his fingers.

“Fuck, yeah, Brad. That’s it, right there!” crying out in untamed ecstasy, when his fingers curled into you and he quickened his pace. “You’re close,” he noted. Bradley knew you like the back of his hand, the telltale signs of your appending orgasm were easy to spot. Sometimes he knew you were close before you did, and right now, he was on the bullseye.

Your breathing was labored, eyes blown out and wide, skin glowing. You were about to let go at any second, right onto his fingers and tongue. Latching himself to your clit, he sucked hard while his fingers went fast. And then… stars. Beautiful, bright stars danced in your vision as you came.

“Christ, babygirl!” Bradley chuckled, hand lightly slapping the inside of your thigh. Dazed and still coming down from your orgasm, you managed to lift your head with a small, “huh?” Looking at Bradley through half lidded, heavy eyes you couldn’t stop the heat that rose to your cheeks once you saw what made him laugh. He was soaking wet.

His face down to his chest was covered in your juices, the shiny sight of him making you clench with need at the proud look on his face. “You made quite a mess, baby.” He teased, licking his lips and savoring the taste. You let out a breathy moan, watching as he stood before you, tall and covered in you.

Bradley only continued to smirk down at you, loving the way your eyes filtered around his body with eyes that grew more and more in desperation. “Like what you see, darling?” He asked, knowing damn well that you did. You nodded, so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash. “S’much, Bradley. Look s’sexy like that, covered in my cum. Wanna be covered in yours next!” You whined. “That can most certainly be arranged,” Bradley spoke, before climbing ontop of you.

His lips caught yours once more that evening, both of your hands roaming the others body as you two moaned. “Want your cock, Bradley. Need it so bad, need to feel it inside of me.” And God, if he wasn’t already rock hard, he would be now just from hearing you say that. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ll get it. Imma give it t’ya now.” He promised, his lips on your neck while he did so. “Spread your legs f’me. That’s it, keep those pretty little thighs open, just like that.”

He was so gentle in the way he positioned himself in between your thighs once more, this time with his cock as he slowly parted your lips to gather your wetness. Then, he sunk in with one fell swoop.

Both of you groaned at the contact, Bradley slowly fucking your and filling you with a pleasure so delicious. You threw your head back on the pillow, eyes shut tight as he began to speed up his pace. Wrapping your legs around his waste so there was so space in between, his balls hitting your clit with passionate force. Now it was Bradley’s turn to throw his head back, moaning and cursing at the way you clenched around his cock. “Such a good pussy, such a good girl. How did I ever get this lucky?” He asked, looking down at you with so much love.

Needing to kiss you, he gently scooped you up into his arms so you were now chest to chest. The cold prick of metal on his skin from your piercings felt so good, digging into him as he kissed you. Your heavy breathing was swallowed by his tongue going into your mouth, your nails scratching down his back when he pounded into you. Both of you were so close, it could be told by the messy kissing and the way your pussy squeezed him tightly.

“Close,” was all you managed to get out. Bradley nodded, “me too, baby. Me too.” He gritted out, and you held onto him as tight as possible. “Want you to. come on my tits.” You mumbled against his neck, not missing the shudder that tore through him at your words. He quickened his pace, coasting you through your orgasm that left you buzzing, before quickly pulling out to his expel his own release.

He gently laid you back down on the bed, giving himself a few pumps with his hand before hit hot and sticky cum hit your chest. He watched in amazement at the mess, your perky nipples now painted white.

Your fingers came up to your breasts, swirling the cum around your nipples and chest before popping them into your mouth. Bradley watched with bated breath as you sucked on your own fingers, seemingly savoring every last drop before you released your fingers from your swollen lips with a pop. “Jesus christ,” Bradley swore. “Now that, is what I call a welcome home.”

[femmefatalevibe]

What advice/resources would you recommend for someone who is trying to decentralize her life from men (or really anybody other than herself)?

Any books/videos/advice/etc. that you have would be great!

Thanks! Your blog helps me so much xo

Hi love! I'm so glad to hear this <3. Sharing some tips/resources below. Hope this helps xx

How To Decenter Men In Your Life:

Consider the values, goals, and desired lifestyle that feel most authentic to you if social scripts/stigmas didn't apply to you

Take time to become radically honest with your desires as an individual – outside of the perception of men, your family, boss, teachers, peers, etc.

Cultivate a sense of personhood and identity established in your interests, hobbies, skillsets, learning capabilities, creativity, and desire for growth in all aspects of life

Act in your own best interests. Speak up for your needs, and advocate for yourself. Be more "selfish." Don't apologize for what you want and go after it. Act in your own best interests

Become confident in negotiating, assertive communication, and standing on your own two feet. Establish relationships in all aspects that are based on mutual benefit and equitable exchange

Unlearn your self-sacrificing & people-pleasing. Stop shrinking yourself or suppressing your needs to make others feel better or more comfortable

Validate yourself: your needs, desires, goals, dreams, preferences, and opinions. You need to choose yourself every day. Your appeal to others means nothing if you don't like the person you are or are becoming to satisfy the needs or desires of others

Consider the ways you're consciously and subconsciously confining your self-expression and belief system to fit the mold/appease the patriarchy. Actively work to deconstruct this mentality and way of being

Be honest with yourself about how men enrich your life. Not the other way around. Do they fulfill you romantically, sexually, both, or neither? There's no right or wrong answer, except the one that requires you to put on a performance rather than live in alignment with your true self

TikTok Creators:

Melanie Hamlett (LOVE her! My favorite creator/author on this topic.)

Katie Jgin

Soberside

Rose Hackman

Hope Peddler

Therese Lee (@thereselee6)

SpirtualWhistleBlower

Books On Decentering Men:

A Single Revolution by Shani Silver

Patriarchy Stress Disorder: The Invisible Inner Barrier to Women's Happiness and Fulfillment by Valerie Rein, Ph.D

What a Time to Be Alone: The Slumflower's Guide to Why You Are Already Enough by Chidera Eggerue 

All the Single Ladies: Unmarried Women and the Rise of an Independent Nation by Rebecca Traister

Enjoy Your Solo By Mary Delia Allen

How to Be Single and Happy by Jennifer Taitz

Singled Out: How Singles Are Stereotyped, Stigmatized, and Ignored, and Still Live Happily Ever After by Bella DePaulo, Ph.D

On Our Best Behavior: The Seven Deadly Sins and the Price Women Pay to Be Good by Elise Loehnen 

We Are Not Born Submissive: How Patriarchy Shapes Women's Lives by Manon Garcia 

The Seven Necessary Sins for Women and Girls by Mona Eltahawy 

Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny by Kate Manne

Why Does He Do That?: Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling  Men by Lundy Bancroft 

Men Who Hate Women: From Incels to Pickup Artists: The Truth about Extreme Misogyny and How it Affects Us All by Laura Bates

Fed Up: Emotional Labor, Women, and the Way Forward by Gemma Hartley  

[creedslove]

Which one of Pedro boys is more likely to move out of the bedroom, because your little baby is not letting him sleep properly. and because he has a job, he is like "no, I'm not sleeping in the same room as you and the baby."

I'm just crushed a little, because I heard a conversation ar my work among two men, who done this. I can't stop thinking about it since.

Like. Who would leave a bedroom to go sleep in a living room, until baby start sleeping during the night.

Javier P? He has responsible job. He needs to focus and think clearly.

Joel? Drive a car to work, he needs to focus and be precise.

Frankie? If someone suggested to him this as a solution, would he listen to the advice?

Jack? He is an agent, constant danger require clear and rested mind.

Dave? Would he take a pillow and move in his spare bedroom for few weeks?

Tim?! He is detective. 🍓✨

This makes me so sad, I get so upset when I see/hear about men being so insensitive towards their own son. Taking care of babies is exhausting but everyone should help, the couple, it's unfair to do that and so rude too.

That being said, I'm sure NONE of the Pedro boys would do that, because they are all great dads on their own way 🥺😍

So thinking of a situation like the one you mentioned, I believe that:

Javier Peña: he ain't no stranger to lack of sleep at night, he often suffers from it and struggles to get back to sleep once he wakes up, so instead wanting to move to another room, he picks up the baby and walks around the house with him, he's so soft, saying love words to his beautiful baby trying to calm his precious little child, since he can't sleep, he doesn't see why he would prevent you from resting in order to watch the baby

Joel Miller: yeah Joel works A LOT and it's hard work, but he also knows you work a lot by taking care of the baby and he's also been a dad, he knows some nights are easy and some are a nightmare. So he does what's correct: he acts like a real man and helps you take care of the baby; no matter how much their little Miller cries, he's there to help you, or he's there to tell you to go back to bed because he's gonna handle it. And I'm sure he plays the guitar to the baby 🤧🥺

Agent Whiskey: please, we know Jack's favorite hobby is to worship you and treat you like a goddamn queen, especially after you gave him his precious little Daniels baby; you've given him a family and he's given you himself entirely, and he will never let anything or anyone take away his family from him, so he will never leave you alone in the bedroom, that's just not happening at all... The baby's crying? No problem sugar, daddy Daniels is gonna take care of him for you. He checks the baby for a fever, a diaper change, sees if he's hungry and if by then your little cowboy hasn't calmed down, then he just holds the baby. Simple as that, giving him the snuggles until the baby is calmly asleep

Dave York: Dave would never sleep somewhere else, it doesn't matter if he literally kills for a living, inside his house, he's a family man and he will always make sure his family is around him. He thinks he's already too lucky to have a woman who accepts him for all his faults and sins and the moment he starts a family with you, he can't stay way, he needs to be close, to feel that love and remind himself he's part of it, also, he likes to be close in the case of a possible attack, he can defend you as soon as possible. If your baby simply won't stop crying, Dave will pick her up and pace the house, carrying her in his arms and he will possibly wake up on the couch with a baby slept peacefully against his chest

[incorrect-web-novels]

[Photo ID - two cropped screenshots from the MDZS manhua with the same Tumblr post pasted on them. The first image shows Lan Qiren making eye contact with Lan Wangji, the latter holding a frantic Wei Wuxian in his arms.

The second image shows Wei Wuxian standing next to Lan Qiren while Lan Wangji looks on in the background. Wei Wuxian is passing something to the surprised Lan Qiren.

The text post is by Tumblr user flannelfaeries and reads, "actually, sir, my favorite hobby is committing blasphemy and horrific sins in the eyes of god." /End ID]

Original Post

[hugh-lauries-bald-spot]

explaining the complexities of macdennis to my wife is my new favorite hobby. so far we've covered the monthly dinner dates, the t-bagging, the sleeping in the same bed, the anal beads, the sinned system, the implication that they jack off to videos of dennis having sex. what am i missing?

[dreamy-starlie]

🌈Incorrect Quotes: Smiling Critters Edition Part 2🌈

You all really seemed to like the first one I made so here’s more that I did because why not. Enjoy!

Slight Language Warning once again!

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Bubba, to DogDay: If Kickin doesn't say "I'm King of the world" within an hour on that boat, I will give you my next pay check. Kickin, within 5 minutes of getting on the boat: I'M KING OF THE WORLD!!!

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Picky: We either die free, or die trying! 

CatNap: Are those the only choices?

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Hoppy: You've got to act tough, Kickin! Show 'em you can't be pushed around! Show 'em they can't mess with you! Kickin: Right. Yes. Tough. Got it. Kickin, standing up on their stool and slamming their hands down on the bar: I'LL TAKE A CHOCOLATE MILK.

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Bubba: I have to say, I'm a little embarrassed for you. 

Kickin: This is a sports-related injury. It makes me look cool! 

Bubba: Tripping over a basketball on your way to the bathroom is not cool!

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Hoppy: We can't lose. Because we have this. *points to their chest* 

DogDay: We have heart? 

Hoppy: Heart? No, me. I'm pointing at myself. I'm going to win this for us.

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Kickin: When will Ted himself...finally show up to the talk? 

CatNap: The final boss. 

Bubba: You guys know TED talk stands for technology, entertainment, and design talks, right? 

Kickin: I will not let Ted hide behind these lies any longer!

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Bobby: Are you mad? 

Picky: No. 

Bobby: So sharpening your knives at 3 in the morning is just a hobby?

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Crafty: Kickin? What are you doing? 

Kickin, wearing a hawaiian shirt, sunglasses, and holding a gatorade: My best.

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DogDay: Why are you like this?? 

CatNap: I used too much "No More Tears" shampoo as a kid and I haven't felt a single emotion since.

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Crafty: I truly believe that water can solve all your problems. 

Picky: Weight loss? Drink water. 

Bobby: Clear skin? Drink water. 

CatNap: Want to get rid of someone? Drown them.

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CatNap: My favorite outdoor activity is going back inside.

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Bubba: Father, I have sinned. Kickin: Daddy, I’ve been naughty.

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Kickin: This is horrible! This is the most humiliating thing to ever happen to me! Picky: Oh-? Even more humiliating than- Kickin: We are not doing this!

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CatNap: I don't dab. I stab.

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Picky: Nothing in life is free. Bobby: Love is free. Bubba: Knowledge is free. DogDay: Friendship is free. Hoppy: Self-respect is free. Kickin: Everything's free if you don't pay for it. The Squad: ... Bubba: Kickin, that's illegal- Picky: No, let them finish!

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DogDay: Hey, did you know as a kid I accidentally ate paper? Hoppy: I feel like we've all done that at least once. Picky: I ate it too- Hoppy: See? Picky: -On purpose... Hoppy & DogDay: ...What?

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Bubba: Is something burning? DogDay, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you. Bubba: DogDay, the toaster is literally on fire.

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DogDay: What scares you guys the most? Bobby: Hornets! Crafty: Sharks. Kickin: The unstoppable marching of time that is slowly guiding us all towards an inevitable death. Kickin: Kickin: CatNap.

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Cop: What are your names? CatNap: Don't tell them, DogDay. Cop, writing: DogDay… CatNap: Crap. DogDay: Nice going, CatNap. Cop: DogDay: Uh oh.

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Hoppy: What if mayonnaise came in cans? Kickin: Well, that would suck because you can't microwave metal. Bubba: Good morning to everyone except these two critters.

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Bubba: Kickin- Kickin: *sighs* Hoppy used to call me Kickin… Bubba: ...Because it's your fucking name.

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Bubba, watching Picky do something stupid: Kickin, you're officially only the second highest risk here. Kickin: Hell yeah! I'm gonna— Bubba: Don't finish that sentence, you'll move back up.

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CatNap: Get in, loser, we’re committing vehicular manslaughter!

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DogDay, skipping rocks on a lake with Hoppy: It’s such a beautiful evening. Hoppy: Yeah, it is. Hoppy: *whispering* Take that you fucking lake.

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Picky: Do you ever feel like exploding? Have you experienced the urge to enter the process of combustion? Has your mind created a logical idea, known as thought, to disperse your body into thousands of particles suddenly? CatNap: It’s 3 am, please go back to sleep.

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CatNap: We all have our demons. CatNap, grabbing DogDay: This one’s mine.

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Kickin: I feel like Hoppy is looking down on me. Bubba: That’s because they’re on the counter and you’re short.

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Bobby: Do you ever want to talk about your emotions, Bubba? Bubba: No. Crafty: I do! Bobby: I know, Crafty. Crafty: I’m sad. Bobby: I know, Crafty. 

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Kickin: Hey, Hoppy. What kind of flowers do you prefer? Hoppy: I like sunflowers. Kickin, pulling out a bouquet of Venus Flytraps: Well, shit-

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Bubba: Is… Is that meant to be on fire? Picky: No… not really. Bubba: Are you going to do something about it? Picky: Hm… nah.

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CatNap: Hey, you want a tarot reading? Bubba: Those are Pokemon cards. CatNap: You got a magikarp. Bubba: ... CatNap: It means 'fuck you'.

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DogDay: Picky, can you help me? All of my clothes keep disappearing for some reason. CatNap, wearing a hoodie that's 5 times bigger than their size: Spooky.

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DogDay, excitedly: Heeyy!! Bobby: Hey, someone's excited. CatNap, deadpan: Yeah, and it's making me sick.

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Bubba, texting: Kickin, will you please go to sleep? Kickin, texting back: What makes you think you didn’t just wake me up? Bubba, yelling: I CAN HEAR YOU CLAPPING TO THE FRIENDS THEME EVERY TWENTY MINUTES SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP! Kickin, texting: Just a hunch :) You goin’ to sleep soon? Bubba, texting: I’m trying Kickin, yelling again: TRY HARDER I HAVE A TEST TOMORROW BITCH! Kickin, texting: Okay, don’t stay up too late or you’ll be cranky :)

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Thats all folks! Thank you💖

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tags @corinneglass and @diabolical-blue!

OC Interview

You know, I don't think I've ever done one of these for Ivander. Let's go with him!

Are you named after anyone?

"Not in particular, no. My family tends to cycle through the same old list of names, so there have been plenty of Ivanders before me, but I wasn't named after any specifically."

When was the last time you cried?

"Most nights, I can't help it. My curse puts me in a great deal of pain and when my medication wears off around midnight, I'm usually not doing great. It's nights like those that make me so awfully aware that my time is drawing to an end."

Do you have kids?

"Hell no, I'd probably forget to feed the tragic creature. I'm not putting any child through the trial that me raising them would undoubtedly ensue."

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

"If you have to ask, then you must be denser than you look."

What is the first thing you notice about people?

"As a detective, I'm trained to look for identifying marks. An odd tattoo, a birthmark, telltale scars from a certain trade. All can be very useful if one can remember them."

What’s your eye color?

"Blue. Most would describe them as slightly too blue to fall in the human range."

Any special talents?

"I'm good at remembering things. Who's been talking with whom, who's been clocking in late with bags under their eyes, who's been extra nervous when the time comes for a station audit - that sort of thing. Ceyrel, my partner, says I have a nose for drama, but I prefer to think that I simply like to keep tabs on my surroundings. And occasionally let other people in on my 'findings,' so to speak."

Scary movies or happy endings?

"I really couldn't say. I suppose it depends on what I'm in the mood for. If I'm with friends, scary movies are fine, but if I'm alone in my apartment, I prefer something sappy. Just don't tell Ceyrel that."

Where were you born?

"On a roof, believe it or not. I was told that my mother insisted. According to my uncle, she said it was an important tradition among her people that a baby's first sight be the sky above. In a rare show of magnanimity, my father allowed her to go through with her plan and brought up a midwife and tent to the roof of the Montane compound. And so there it happened. Apparently, it rained hard enough that no one could see the sky in the end anyways."

Do you have any pets?

"No. I can barely take care of myself - I'm not going to tie some animal to my fate. Especially not one that wants me petting it all the time."

How tall are you?

"5'8", but I walk with a stoop, so I seem shorter."

What was your favorite subject in school?

"I was never a fan of school. I did well enough and my tutors never remarked on my behavior, however, I didn't enjoy it. I suppose art, if I had to choose. I liked to paint as a boy, though I was never very good. I thought I might pick the hobby up again once I left home, but I never found the time."

What is your dream job?

"I'd say not having a job would be dreamy, but that's not true, I'd go mad with boredom. I like being a detective well enough. I have the seniority to where they don't make me go on patrol anymore, and sometimes I'll get a case that piques my interest. Really though, it's just a job. I do it, I get paid, I go home. When I joined ten years ago, I had some delusion of making the world a better place and atoning for my sins. However, the only place I ended up making better was the interior of some merchant councilmembers' homes. It's been so long that it's hard to care about such things now - that's how society works and there's no use fighting against it. But back on topic. If I really had to choose, I'd... I'd perhaps like to work in a tailor shop. I have a keen eye for style and I think the clientele would amuse me. Unfortunately though, I couldn't string a needle to save my life, and tailors don't make detective money. More's the pity."

I'll tag @somethingclevermahogony @goodluckclove @savvyminnow @sleepywriter00 and anyone else who wants to play :)

Blank questions below the cut

Are you named after anyone? When was the last time you cried? Do you have kids? Do you use sarcasm a lot? What is the first thing you notice about people? What’s your eye color? Any special talents? Scary movies or happy endings? Where were you born? Do you have any pets? How tall are you? What was your favorite subject in school? What is your dream job?

[skeleton-mischief]

Dream Sans

How could he have known? How could a child understand the sins of selfishness? Well, he's now older, and Dream is tired of it all

Headcanons below, please note some things aren't canon to the actual story because I straight up just changed it for my own idea of the AU

- Official height 5'7

- He/They

- Positive nihilist

- The embodiment and King of Positivity. A God if you will

- strict when it comes to the safety of others

- Naturally warm to the touch, he doesn't get hot or cold easily if at all

- Has a staff that turns into a bow & arrow or even a harp

- He dreams of other versions of himself, but can never find them. He wonders if they're even real

- Cries loudly, sniffles and whimpers. He can't stop crying once it starts and he tries to hide his face

- open-minded, carefully optimistic, intelligent, serious, kind, well mannered, loyal, cleaner, creative, assertive, pacifist, honest, patient, charismatic, trustworthy, cheerful, and reflective

- self reflective, he reflects on things about the world and about others

- He holds an air of maturity different than others, due to their time in the multiverse

- He does not get close to others, not often anyways

- He used to follow fate, but grew to revolt against it and even "make his own reality"

- Has a yellow powder that can put others to sleep if they're exhausted already or deprived of it. If they're actually well rested, it soothed

- He can read people very easily, often picking up on body language and details that not even the monster or human is aware of

- He loves any nicknames given to him, he treasures them. However, no one is allowed to call him Sunny

- He feels every emotion others have but can only influence happiness by giving it to others

- He has synesthesia, able to see emotions and even smell them

- He loves the color yellow and so he aims for yellow outfits, but his favorite color is actually blue and purple. It reminds him of Nightmare

- The back of his cloak looks like a scarf in some sense, but it can magically form into wings

- His favorite flowers are sunflowers, poppy flowers, and lilies of the valley. These flowers actually are symbolic of the past for him, and now he can be seen near marigolds. I suggest looking at flower language

- He is always reminded of his brother when the color purple appears, so he sometimes collects jewelry with splashes of it

- He encourages rest for others but he himself struggles to sleep and even resents it to some extent due to his bad dreams. He always has nightmares, never dreams. It's always the same scene, but it changes from time to time. It always ends with seeing his brother change due to the corruption

- He is capable of going into other people's dreams and altering them to something more positive. However, he cannot do this for himself and he is always forgotten inside those dreams

- He doesn't lie unless necessary, since he hates lying in general

- His hobbies are playing the harp and writing poetry

- His favorite snack is bananas or apple pie

- He can't stand being near statues and gets uncomfortable since he has to constantly remind himself that they're not actually sentient in any way. He used to be one after all

- He doesn't understand slang very well since his form of speaking is very formal

- He has a pet owl, but he has to summon it first. It happens to be that of a golden color, as it appears to be that of a magic species

- They have a love for architecture, often fangirling over large and elegant architecture

- He is a bit of a germaphobe, but not to an extreme extent

- Very touch oriented, he learns best through touch and sensations. You won't see him without his gloves, however, unless he's healing

- He doesn't tolerate hatred towards others, as it reminds him of how he failed his brother while he was bullied and terrorized by the village of his past

- He is wonderful with children and loves to be around them when possible, he tends to gravitate towards lonely children in order to comfort them

- He is the best at giving advice, as he has to learn the hard way by being alone for so long

- His relationship with Ink is complex as both were childish when they first met, but that doesn't mean that they grew apart. They don't hate each other or even dislike each other, but when they talk it's usually heavy conversations and rarely a friendly visit

- Surprisingly, he sometimes drinks, it's when he's beyond stressed and he has to drink a lot or use magical beverages to get intoxicated

- He's a workaholic, often pushing himself to his limits since it's all he knows

- He hates small talk since why bother when there's more to talk about, but can manage

- He loves making gifts for others and has excellent memory

- He is practically a Disney Princess when it comes to animals, they just gravitate towards him and hes excellent with them

- Can be up stupid early and trains frequently

- Is the best at acrobatics and flexibility

- Deeply emphatic

- Multilingual, he can speak every language

- He's secretly insecure about his aura, worried that people only like him because of it

- He is nostalgic for apples as it reminds him of his mother, but he doesn't really comment on it since it's not quite a trigger, but it's a sensitive topic since he can freeze up if he thinks too long about his past

- He has claustrophobia and a fear of being helpless, the idea that he can't move or do anything is triggering from when he was going through the incident and was a statue

- Sexless, they mainly just like masc or gender neutral pronouns

- Hates smoking, the smell brings them back

- He barely learned how to read and write as a child, so now that he's the God/Guardian of Positivity, he still struggles. He didn't get the chance to grow those skills, so his handwriting is shaky

- Fire in general is a trigger, he never saw so much in his life when Nightmare was Corrupted. He gets nervous near flames, and the scent makes him lightheaded into a panic

- He is a healer, something he learned after he awoke from the stone. However, he has to wear gloves or else it can overflow into things such as plant life. He couldn't heal the mother tree though, he already tried

- His mentality didn't change when a statue, but his body did. He had to stay in his destroyed world and his mind was altered. He has since then grown, but his mental state is in constant distress because he feels like a child in some ways. He didn't know what he was doing when thrown into the world, but since then he's becoming more and more jaded

- On the aroace spectrum, he doesn't have any sexual attraction but it's possible for a romantic sensation to form

- His magic smells like something akin to green scents such as dew grass, while his magic tastes like sweet citrus such as a flavor of lemon

- He often had a freeze response due to being in the statue, frozen and unable to stop himself as he felt helpless to react. It would only worsen with his own self deprecating nature. It took awhile to improve

- He noticed that Ink only cares about the AU rather than the souls inside, more attentive to the issues there rather than the overall improvement of AU conditions

- He can heal himself pretty well along with others as long as the injury is on a scale of 1-3. 4-5 on the injury level is more challenging. It takes more time and magic, this means that he can actually pass out due to excessive healing

- He follows more of a duty as a guardian rather for himself and finds it his job to fix these AU's. For awhile he just tried to make everyone happy, even forcefully, but as time grew he was able to see how this isn't good. He's better at understanding the flaws of constant positivity

- He's not used to receiving physical affection since he usually is the giver. If he was hugged he'd actually just feel like the sound of Lego bricks falling apart

- He has hallucinations sometimes, especially after waking up, of his bones turning back to stone sometimes. He ends up trying to chip away at his bone in order to remove that stone, panicking and ending up becoming worse. As a result, he covers up a lot and it's why he wears so many layers

- Before the Corruption, he lived with a world lacking technology. So, he only had drawings (if they weren't destroyed) or other natural crafts to remember Nightmare's face. He has kept one drawing that Nighty drew of the two happy safe in his inventory, often pulling it out and reflecting on those memories. He's desperate to return to when he and Nighty were happy, but he knows that's impossible and he feels selfish for it

- He wasn't actually aware of his brother being abused, and in fact he was abused as well. He was constantly pleasing others, pressured, and manipulated by the village because he was seen as something "other." He was scared for his brother, often seeing him in distress. He always offered physical comfort, and in fact he doesn't even resent his brother for what he did. Nighty was just hurt, and he understands that. Still, he feels like he failed him and feels awful for it. He doesn't know that Nighty doesn't actually truly blame him

- He knows ASL and actually had to relearn how to speak properly, he has a bit of an accent and a rasp in his voice as a result

- Finds Ink weird, especially since he doesn't know that they're soulless

- Never learned how to cook, but hes great for natural gatherings and identifying poisonous plants, berries, etc

- the arrows of positivity can kill due to the excessive amounts, its something he only uses with Nightmare as a result

- Excessive negativity can hurt him because of his soul literally turning into a positive apple

- Because his soul is something else in some sense, he actually can't get his soul grabbed by anyone, including Error. Error is one of the only select few that knows this, since he can always tell if someone doesn't quite have a "soul"

- One of the only things that can hurt him is Nightmare's negativity, and he in turn is one of the only things that can hurt Nightmare

- He can make someone "too" happy if he wished, causing them to smile so hard they're sore and laugh to the point of becoming lightheaded and out of breath. He doesn't do it often, but he's capable of it and it's one reason he doesn't feel even close to being intimidated by others. He's actually rather dangerous when he chooses to be, he just decides to enact mercy

- After eons of having his own happiness taken away by him and dealing with negativity more intensely than he did as a child, he slowly didn't realize that he was becoming something else and the only reason he hasn't fallen down is because he ate the last golden apple

- He thought Nightmare died when he lost himself to the corrupt apples, and when he came to, he was stuck in his world mourning the death of everyone. The villagers, the only family he had. He tried to talk to the mother tree even when she was chopped, only to cry when no response was given.

- He was only able to leave his world when Ink found him, but there actually would be a single incident before that where he was found by Nightmare who thought he was the stone that was on the ground and crumbled. It didn't end well

- He hates silence. He hates it because when he crumbled from being a statue, he has never heard such silence ever in his life

Closing Notes: heourgh. Don't look at me, these two have made me genuinely cry before. Don't acknowledge me, don't even know I exist. I love them, always have