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ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷThe ugly cat and sad rabbit live here! ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
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#Im sorry i didn’t see it sooner#she’s a little doll 🥺#she needs black Mary Janes with ruffled socks and a black belt#and an oversized off the shoulder bag#i want the dress so bad now#i can’t wait to see her in more outfits and OMG ARE THOSE CAT EARS I THOUGHT IT WAS A BOW OMG#🥺🥺🥺🥺#the cutest cat 🥰#how do you draw shoes so well m3 I’m so jealous 😭😭😭😭#cyn is literally so fashionable#i Can see her in vogue 😎
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hey everyone my tummy hurts but please don't cry too hard for me. a few tears are fine though.
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Madness
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oh we can't turn back time? that's cool, I'll spend the rest of my life wishing I could though
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Julia Ortega in St Vincent’s Daddy’s Home suit can anyone hear me.
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Julia Ortega in St Vincent’s Daddy’s Home suit can anyone hear me.
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I'm doing this open questions thing again *sparkle emoji*. Please tell me your chargestep divorce headcanons. How bad is it.
I made a habit out of making Kadm dump Ric at the beginning of each book, so they can get back together by the end of it and in the prologue of next book I make them break up again. This does not dissuade Ric in the slightest. Despite being divorced Kadm still feels the need to loudly dispute the status of their relationship in public.
#Well? umm I guess Julia is still trying to get Orellia cause she gave her the lil kiss on the forehead after beating her bloody#but really? Ortega relationship is the lowest one in retri#the only ‘nice’ interactions is when Julia hangs out with BlueJay#Julia even brings up the ‘you’ve been avoiding me’ thing in the apartment dinner so 🤷♂️#but oro still hopes Julia shows up at every fight so she can beat her up again so that has to stand for something right?
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In a ideal world where the poly is still on— Orellia is doing an awful job at holding back gags when it’s Mortum turn to cook and Julia is kicking her so hard under the table
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tell me i’m cute or something so i can like roll my eyes at you but then blush when i think about it later
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Me & the other drivers were really impressed when you swerved around all of us at high speeds & got to the red light before anyone else
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You’re in her dms I left her on read for 6 weeks because I’m emotionally incompetent
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Julia Ortega past and present
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heartbreak
-a final version of this
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sunshiney characters who adore the mean grumpy character, platonically or romantically, but not DESPITE them being mean as if that isn’t who the other “really” is deep down. they love it. they think the other is the funniest cleverest most delightful person alive
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May I offer you about 1,5k words long chargestep AU I just wrote based on these prompts? Look I don't want to spoil the fun but:
TW for: kidnapping, unhealthy relationships, suicide mention, murder, drug use and gaslighting. Take it as you will.
What kind of story is this? Stitches, stitches, stitches for days. So many stitches. There was a monster. I remember... There was a monster. I fell out the window. I had to escape. How did I manage to find myself inside this room? It seemed unfamiliar and yet... There was a monster. A vaguely outlined silhouette of it and the entire world seemed unclean and poisoned and full of decontaminated misery concentrated inside this room. Smelling terrible like someone lived here for a long, long time... I don't remember how I found myself inside it. Wasn't the building abandoned? Sitting with its back propped against the wall there was a monster. It's silhouette a mourning shadow against the wall tall and jagged. And staring at me. That spike of familiarity between us again but I couldn't pinpoint it because suddenly I was terrified of our proximity.
It was digging. Digging around my brain. Pulling out memories like dirty bathwater. It was fucking with me. And I was so so scared. Desperately seeking to sever our connection. A window. An open window. Save me. I fell out of the window. No. I jumped. This implies agency. I jumped out of the window. But that's not what they said at the hospital. I fell out of the window. It was an accident. In the hospital? There was a person in a white jacket.
It hurt so much but only for a moment. I felt as if I saw the sky open up above me for the first time in ages. It was terrifying but beautiful at the same time. It was a beautiful sunny day with skies gently overcast with fluffy white clouds. There was an enormous presence around me feeling like static. Splotchy blotchy feeling. Wet dirty ground of the parking lot. Blood red. Spongy with bodies.
**
Well, fuck my life. I lost my only special toy.
The telepathy has been contained for a long time. I was as good as immune so I didn't consider it a disastrous, poisoning factor until apparently it was too late. The sedatives seemed to do a good enough job but I evidently missed the crucial hints until it was too late.
The way our neighbors started becoming jumpy about a week before fourteenth of February. This wasn't a good neighborhood but it wasn't a bad gone down the drain neighborhood either. Everyone who lived in LD without any sort of protection were twitchy and jumpy. I didn't think they were onto me yet. This seemed like a stressed out ball being gripped strongly overtime around our doorway tighter and tighter almost like a palatable tension in the air. But I ignored it based on visuals alone. I wasn't affected. Then the first incident happened. A wife stabbing her husband downstairs. He's been abusive, if the yelling and occasional crashing noises from time to time were to be believed but it reached a crescendo last night when I laying in bed with him, covering his ears. His teeth chattered and he kept trying to bite his nails so I had to use the plastic tie... anyway. I thought nothing of the thud. It was peaceful afterwards.
I went onto the staircase later in the night when the sirens and blotchy red-blue lights splintered the wall inside the kitchen and listened in. The wife cut her wrists afterwards. It was fatal. Murmurs of dissent. Why did no one ever react to domestic violence until it was too late? I didn't give a shit. My father taught me something about domestic violence back in a day. It was not going away even when it ended.
I went back inside. Another day passed uneventfully. He was twitchy, murmuring and clutching his head, pulling at his hair and vomited at some point but the drugs helped. A loud crunchy thud. Someone fell down the stairs and broke his neck going down directly in front of our apartment. Paramedics pronounced it fatal accident. More grumbling about the quality of the building and lack of drive for renovations again. Several people were chain-smoking and discussing but they seemed paralyzed with fear. Some of them looked wilted and depressed. Unwashed hair. Walking around in fluffy bathrobes with sagged expressions. Eyes devoid of life. They still chatted and moved like automatons. They still did everything the exact same way I perceived them to do for months because I wasn't taking any chances. Blood should have been mopped but no one did this. The red splotch melting into our doorway mat was accusing me. I closed the door.
Another day. He suddenly screamed. I had to gag him. Just before he was telling me of the monster but his gaze wasn't focused on me, it was spiraling and drifting spasmodically across the walls. More sedatives. We plopped onto the couch and I was stroking his hair as he seemed to be drifting off to sleep when something like a shadow of a great bird passed by the window. Too big to be a bird. Like a large shapeless sack. It disappeared as I blinked. I put it on the garb of being exhausted recently. He was putting me through the wringer but I loved him too much to give in. Unspecified time later some shouting happened in the apartments around us. Hurried footsteps on the staircase. I didn't want to unwrap myself from him. I fell asleep like this and had a painful knick in my neck later.
When I woke up, someone few floors above committed suicide. It was not unusual in this city. But it was the third accident this week. Valentine's Day was almost upon us, however and the holidays always made people go mental. He finally seemed to calm down so I put him in the bathtub, scrubbed him and gently washed his hair, humming to myself. Sometimes mods still made me wary around water but it was alright.
Splotch.
Two hours later another suicide happened. I wondered if that was a love story. If I missed another doomed romance happening in this very apartment block where we lived. For a split second I panicked. I thought he'd find us. But no. I couldn't get threaded either way. We were safe.
Splotch. Splotch. Splotch. By the evening something strange started happening. We were being cordoned off. In fact, the entire neighborhood consisting of about eight apartment buildings was pronounced an off-limits zone. There were some protests but they soon developed into an inarticulate full blown mass hysteria. Doors above and below started opening. Deranged shouting. I heard a gunshot once or twice. I barricaded the door. I thought he'd start sensing it. Or make sense out of it? With so many chaotic human thoughts suddenly pushing at his mind but he was as docile and serene as ever. Small mercies, I thought and wrapped him up in a blanket and put on something colorful and mindless on the TV for him to stare at.
Splotch. Splotch. Splotch. Splotch. I tried not to stare but these shutter shocks of split second dark figures kept drifting periodically in front of the windows. The sirens wailed. I wondered, oh irony, if they were gonna call the Rangers to finish the job. Someone directed the ambulances and cops through the megaphone on the parking lot downstairs. I pulled the blinds. Overwhelming sound of the nearby helicopter blades kept whooshing around us like we were trapped in the box together. In the darkness... You just sat there. I decided to make you some food. You loved my food. I didn't feel insane. Preparing food was meditative and I decided to award your good behavior by making something extra nice for dinner. The cacophony of life outside. At one point someone banged on the door but I didn't react and neither did you. I spoon-fed you as your unseeing eyes didn't drift away from the talk show on the TV. More wailing, bone chilling and despaired and it went on and on and on and on for about an hour before abruptly being cut off. I didn't check. We could wait this out.
It started going to shit when the helicopter crashed. I think around 3 AM I started to understand that there was perhaps no one left alive inside our building. It was a cozy but perplexing and kind silence. I would honestly have kept it that way. Occasional shuffling and sounds of vomiting were maybe the last signs of life I was able to perceive. And it was now officially Valentine's Day. I didn't plan anything in advance and even if I did, it would all be as good as screwed now.
You were breathing heavily. Your good mood seemed to be dissipating until it turned into tremors and incoherent pained moaning. There was the monster again. There was the absurdly loud explosion and the orange-yellowish afterimages of fire even with blinds drawn and the pandemonium of firetrucks, police cars and ambulances all screaming at each other in the faerie of blinding colors. You sounded like you were choking and crying at the same time. Screaming. I remember everything that happened afterwards even if you don't.
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