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#so yeah. if I had a nickel for every time this happened. two nickels
takaraphoenix · 1 year
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There is something that feels inexplicably... straight... in a way that’s uncomfortable, stiff and also just unenjoyable for me, personally, about the narrative of “bravery and inspiration” when it comes to coming outs.
We all - who we have been there and come out - do know that there is an angle of feeling inspired. Sure. Of course. Knowing there’s others like us out there gives us strength. That can come from a place of fiction, when you see yourself represented in media for the very first time. That can come from a place of connection, when you get to interact with another queer person for the first time.
The arc of having The Gay One Of The Main Characters have their coming out and then, down the road, have other, minor characters come out too, and have them express that they felt inspired by the bravery of the Gay Main. I hate that. I hate that so much. Urgh, that just tastes icky to me.
It tastes straight to me. Because straight people love to imagine us as brave, because they often struggle to imagine us as just existing. Our existence must be brave. Our existence must be hardships. And they are, obviously do we face those things. But this framework feels so reductive.
It reduces the coming out to bravery, when a coming out story can be about so much more. Should be about so much more. We deserve to have stories told about so much more than just our hardships and struggles, we deserve to be more than just brave.
Why do the minor queer characters need to be inspired to come out? Why do they need to be so desperately closeted, so incredibly afraid to be themselves that it takes this act of bravery? Why did the author feel the need to create a fictional world that is so oppressive, so harmful and constrictive? That’s a deliberate choice that’s being made.
And sometimes, it’s a choice that makes me feel tired, to be honest. I mean, we can accept werewolves and witches being real and all of that, and bend reality, but let’s not get too unreal, we should definitely keep the homophobia.
Even in a world where we do keep the homophobia, the act of bravery of one singular queer character... ain’t gonna actually change that. Honestly, your choice here is worse than if you just... decided to write about a world where there isn’t any homophobia?
Genuinely. I’d much rather read about a world where we say acceptance is the norm from the get-go, rather than “and all the queers lived in fear, until The Chosen Queer One finally found the bravery to come out of the closet, and every other queer character followed them out of the closet, inspired by their bravery, and... everything was just dandy, actually”.
Because - because - there isn’t any homophobia here, in the end. Everything was just fine, in the end. Nobody faced any homophobia. You just needed the queers to be afraid until the Queer Main was “brave”, so they could all come out and realize that all the straights are actually really nice.
And that’s what makes it taste real straight.
Because the straights aren’t a threat. The straights are actually real nice! There is nothing bad happening here. The queers are being oh-so brave, but they have nothing to fear from us, we’re the good straights. We wouldn’t want to write about uncomfy things like actually bad straight people and actual homophobia. No, that’s going too far, we wouldn’t want to do that.
And I’m just kind of... tired, that just existing is enough to be seen as brave, and that the straight authors still need to feel comfy enough in their little worlds to not go too far, and that we do ridiculous shit like pretending nobody was ever out before the Queer Main. I’m just tired.
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leapdayowo · 11 days
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Redstone and Skulk OC time :3
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Thought I’d turn my persona into a rns oc and give them a helsmet :3 I basically looked at my play style in Minecraft and took a few things from my own life and combined them to create these two! Short version about them below and a little story of their origins under that:
short version:
-Leapday_art (short version Leapday, she/he/they, the player) is afraid of losing important things in their life. He is very cautious about doing anything that could result in him dying and loosing everything in his inventory (sleeps through the night everytime to avoid monsters, barely visits the nether, strip mines, etc) +the cats next to Leapday are two of my darling kitties who unfortunately passed away irl, their names are Toby (left) and Toes (right)
-Nightfall_collections (short version Nightfall, all pronouns, the helsmet) was created from Leapday’s extreme fear of losing valuables and her grief from having lost valuables too many times. Xyr driving goal is to collect and preserve everything that xe can and to make sure there is always at least one copy
-other things about Nightfall: she is a magma cube hybrid while Leapday is a ??? hybrid player (if you read the story below this may make more sense👀). Nightfall can split into smaller duplicates which allows them to be in more places at once and thus more productive in their goal. She uses her goop-like body to write reminders on her clothes, then re-absorbs the goop later
-I think Nightfall would find himself as an organizer between lots of different parties/people in Hels due to being so dedicated to his goal + only being dedicated to this goal (his alignment is probably chaotic good because he’s loyal to his own goals and not to other people or outside rules. He does not take bribes or backstab). Also, Nightfall does not need to have possession of everything, but xe is trying to keep tabs on where everything that exist is at(this makes xem the go-to person for trying to obtain something in particular)
-I think Nightfall would become a sponsor (if that’s the right word?) for the Order of Remembrance because she greatly admires the work they do to preserve Hels’ history. She would also love Zedaph’s hall of all and definitely tries to work with private collectors to protect (and document/track) what they have (and she will keep what she knows a secret if it means protecting valuable things)
-Nightfall does not care about thieves unless they steal one of a kind things
-the doodles below were my earlier concepts, so Nightfall has green eyes before I realized it’s much more fitting for xem to have orange eyes
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okay, okay, story time (because I realized the ‘short’ version was getting very extensive):
Maybe it had started in the very first world she spawned in. A brilliant blue sky that stretched over jagged, looming cliffs with forests scattered underneath. Trickling waterfalls and bubbling lava pits here and there. The natural beauty of the world left Leapday in awe and eager to explore what other wonders lay beyond the horizon.
It must have started with the first tree she broke, a squat little oak, one of hundreds in the forest. When the leaves of that little oak had all fallen, saplings littered the grassy floor. She should’ve been excited, feel triumphant even by taking down the tree, after all it’s how the journey had to start. Except, all that Leapday could see was the awkward gap in the canopy from the absence of the little oak. It felt like an itch unscratched, nagging and uncomfortable. Well that wouldn’t do.
They scooped up all the saplings littering the floor and planted one and the same dirt plot the little oak was uprooted from. Then they planted a few more just for good measure. The unease lingered, but planting the saplings felt good. It felt right. Now their adventure could truly begin!
——
In this world, Leapday’s only companions were the pigs and sheep that he passed on his journey, though he would argue, if there were someone to argue with, that the world itself brought him company enough. That the days and nights passing was a conversation between the universe and Leapday, and thus a consistent companion. And what gifts did the universe provide for him to find! Rushing rivers that fed into powerful oceans, plenty of trees to sleep in and collect, and mountains to climb with the best views of the sunset. Never a dull moment for him as there was always something new to experience and see.
However, despite all its gifts, the universe was slow to explain the finer mechanics of the world, such as health to Leapday. A week of traversing through thick forests and steep cliffs left them battered and bruised. They learned how to gauge the distance of a drop and how to place blocks to minimize the pain in their ankles from falls. A similar pain gnawed from the inside of their stomach, which they discovered was briefly satiated by devouring the apples that fell from the trees.
During one climb up a particularly harrowing cliff, Leapday learned about the unforgiving weight of sand by placing it under her feet in order to reach the next ledge. The block had crumbled in a near instant, sending her plummeting towards the ground. Instead of hitting the hard rocks below, she splashed into a stream from a nearby waterfall. When she had dragged herself onto land and her heart had steadied to a more familiar pace, she let out a fit of bewildered laughter that overwhelmed the panic from moments ago. She knew falls much shorter than this one could take days to recover from, so what kind of pain would she be in if she hadn’t gotten lucky and fallen in the stream? Something cold ran through her and sank to the pit of her stomach. Dread of what could have been, what could still be if she wasn’t more careful. She resolved to never find out what would happen. How unfortunate that her next fall would be into a pit of lava, the very one she had been camping at throughout the nights.
He was being careful, more so than he had been for the first week in this world anyways. That didn’t seem to matter because he had still slipped when placing the block before him and fallen. It was his first respawn, and it introduced him to a few new things like a punch to the face. The first revelation was the agony of burning to death, and death itself. He curled into himself, crying at the phantom feeling of the lava eating at his flesh. The intense heat and how the lava had trapped him in place and burned. It was a twisted version of the warmth of the sun, which was shining down on him and in comparison felt as cool as the air in caves. The second realization came slowly as the memory of fire ebbed. Their knuckles no longer popped and their joints no longer ached. The tightness in their muscles had vanished, leaving softer tissue on the bone and the emptiness in their stomach no longer hurt. They felt new and full of energy, ready to begin their journey again. How strange they had forgotten what this felt like. White scars from their oldest injuries and freckles from sun touched skin still littered their body. They had died, but now were in perfect health again. Leapday took in her surroundings, her face lighting up with delight at the sight of a familiar oak tree. It had grown into quite the study tree since the start of her adventure. Soon after her reunion, Leapday discovered her now empty inventory when she reached for blocks to place in order to climb the canopy. The absence of stacks of logs, dirt, and sand had her racing towards the lava pit before her mind could catch up. Panic pushed her feet to run faster and dodge every obstacle. She ignored nicks from branches in her way and the sting of sharp rocks on her bare feet. The timer was ticking down. Her items would be gone- she just had to- if she wasn’t fast enough-
She burst through the tree line and was greeted by the familiar heavy heat of the lava pit. The sight of it made her recoil out of fear of falling back in even from many blocks away. On shaky legs, she circled the perimeter and searched for her items. The timer was still ticking, but they were nowhere to be seen! She crept as close as she dared to the lava and swept her eyes across the surface of the pool. Then she darted into the surrounding trees looking high and low.
Nothing.
No logs. No saplings or dirt or anything!
This was their third lesson. You lose items after death, and lava destroys those items.
Don’t die, especially not in lava, and don’t lose your items.
Now they had to start over, and this time not dying proved to be harder than expected. More falls and similar accidents happened. Zombies began appearing, persistent in their pursuit of Leapday’s flesh. Then skeletons, creepers, and spiders appeared and introduced many more ways one could die. The pain from the deaths hurt, but they became mundane as weeks turned to months. Loosing items became more painful and frightening when Leapday discovered crafting. More time and resources were needed to start over after dying with crafted items, so they took to the world underground. They followed their instinct to craft pickaxes and torches, to chip away at the stone in search of more sturdy materials. They crafted their first stone pickaxe and found it to be superior to the wooden one.
Maybe it truly started with that wooden pickaxe. When she crafted the stone tools, the wooden pickaxe sat in her hotbar, still good for half a day’s work but now obsolete. It had served her well to progress her journey, a necessary step, but it felt wrong to simply set it aside. It felt like the gap in the canopy all over again, but she very well couldn’t plant the pickaxe in the ground and solve her unease. Not sure what else to do, she attached it to her hip and went on with her day. She wouldn’t destroy it or toss it, she would simply carry it with her until she found what she needed to do with it next. It became her new companion (it was her first crafted tool. It was the first and therefore the only one that would ever exist).
Now equipped with wood and stone blocks, Leapday built their base over their mine. The wooden pickaxe found its place over the doorway leading outside, marking the build as their home. It felt right, so they continued their expansions. Farms were planted along a nearby river and fences placed to corral cows and sheep. Torches were the one item they were generous with. They were thrown across their property liberally since their light would deter creepers spawning too close for comfort.
During a thunderstorm that had picked up abruptly one morning, Leapday poked around at their communicator. It was a lightweight device that had been attached to their forearm since first spawning into the world and never disappeared after dying. After lots of fiddling with the different menus and buttons on the screen, they came across YouCraft. It was an archive of videos made by other players scattered across the universe, documenting their own worlds and progress! With the storm still crashing down around Leapday’s base, they curled up in bed and began watching the first video that caught their eye. It turned out that he had lots more to learn about the universe! After waiting out the storm, and then the night, by watching these videos, he learned about other biomes and blocks still left to discover as well as potions, enchanting, and other dimensions! A dragon was where this journey led for most players, though some took their time getting to it. Above all, he realized he needed diamonds. Diamonds were what every player sought due to their strength, but they were rare and dangerous to collect being so deep underground. They were needed to further Leapday’s journey however, so collecting them became his top goal. Quickly he learned how impossible achieving this goal would be. Well, it seemed impossible after spending days underground chipping at the cold stone and coming up empty. Strange echoes rang through the tunnels and more than a few times paranoia of something (or someone. He had heard the legends of Herobrine) sneaking up on him was enough to make him hole up for hours. Grey, grey stone that went on for miles. Grey cobblestone trailed behind him when his inventory filled. Leapday found other minerals, but the sparkling teal of diamonds still lay buried elsewhere. He mined for so long he began to doubt that the rare mineral even generated in this world. That only grey existed. That was until he broke away the next layer of stone before him and found himself staring uncomprehending at the bits of teal poking through stone. Uncontainable joy broke through his shock like sunlight through parting storm clouds. They were real! Diamonds were real and right in front of him! Invigorated with new energy, Leapday got to work extracting the diamonds just as they had seen others do. The amount paled in comparison to the stacks other players had, but in that moment he didn’t care. It was enough to have found them and confirm they even existed in this world. That weeks of sore arms digging at indifferent stone and unsteady gravel caches falling finally amounted to their new prized possession.
By the time he arrived back at his base, the novelty of finding diamonds began to wear off. He had to admit it was a measly amount. Just barely enough for a diamond pickaxe. What good would a stronger pickaxe be with no enchantments or replacements for when it broke? It had taken so long to find just a few diamonds what were the chances of finding more? No, they wouldn’t craft anything with the rare mineral until they had enough for spares and back ups. So back to the mines they went, and excruciatingly slow they found more, and continued to reason that crafting them was a poor decision. What if an accident happened and they couldn’t get back to their stuff? If they were swallowed by a pit of lava? So much time would be spent only to be wasted. Almost like their thoughts and fears had manifested it, a freak lava incident happened not long after. Leapday had been feeling good that day, so good because their most recent mining trip had yielded 13 diamonds and another cluster just across a lava lake. As they bridged across the lake, plans of finally crafting their collection of diamonds began to form making them giddy. It was the type of giddy that made any obstacle feel like child’s play and beyond consequence. That they finally could start progressing on their journey once more. It was enough to distract Leapday from the crunch of gravel under their feet and for their pickaxe to swing off its mark into the unsteady floor. The ground gave way and sent her tumbling into the lava.
She woke up screaming in her bed. Screaming from agony of ghostly flames that ate flesh, and then from loss and frustration. It wasn’t fair! Her luck had just turned up for the best and now all of it was gone! Every plan to use the diamonds tossed out the window and into a burning pit of despair. How stupid of her to not notice the gravel! All that time for nothing! She should have called it a day and come up 13 diamonds richer with plenty of levels for enchanting. All her gear and tools and items from mineshafts would still be intact, but no. Her head was too far in the clouds and now it was gone. She hadn’t even had the foresight to mark the cave to return to, so sure of her victory. There would be no hope navigating the twisting and sprawling tunnels below, and even if she tried to go back, the sight of lava would probably be enough to make her hurl. Fat tears began dripping down her face as she cursed and wallowed. They blurred his vision, so with a few steadying breaths and a final gross sniffle, he wiped at his eyes. Then he went to swing his legs over the bed to pick up the pieces of his day and froze. On his hand, both hands actually, were thick black smudges of… of something. What was that? He reached up to his face and traced the wet tear tracks with a clean finger. It too came away covered in the strange goop. An incredulous laugh burst from him, which evolved into hysterical crying. More tears fell from his eyes and he let them. The tangled web of grief in his chest unraveling as he did so, and he felt the last of his energy drain away until-
Sunlight trickled through the curtains and roused Leapday from their sleep. Birds were chirping and the familiar sounds of the animals grazing and leaves rustling cradled their mind while the events of the previous day trickled back to them. They felt heavy and gross. Their eyes crusty and mouth dry as a desert were a sure sign of their emotional distress. Disappointment felt like stones being dropped on them when they pulled up their empty inventory. It really was all gone. They let their head flop back onto their pillow and took a steadying breath, trying to recount the reasons they should get out of bed. Maybe they would stick to the joys of the world above ground for a month or two. Take up weaving or painting. They had plenty of resources to finally build a barn and an expansion to the house. Maybe they would go with a grassy roof.
Yeah. That could be alright. With one final sigh, Leapday pushed themself up off their bed and dragged themself over to their cauldron to clean up. They could see from their reflection that only a few faint smudges remained on their face, which they gently wiped away. Crying black goop was probably not normal now that their mind was more stable to think it over. Or maybe it was normal? It had never happened before, but the players on YouCraft all had their own quirks that Lepaday lacked, so maybe it was normal for them?
It turned out the inky tears were a new normal. From that incident onward, whenever they experienced a great sense of loss the strange tears formed and sank into the ground. They appeared when Leapday lost their first wolf companion and when they accidentally deleted a creative world full of builds of an ambitious project.
Meanwhile…
in another world…
In Hels, black goop bubbled to the surface of a sea of lava. From a distance, the surface seemed its usual hungry self, shifting and popping as it patiently waited for Hels and its inhabitants to finally crumble in. The goop was not consumed by its hunger however. It stretched towards the netherrack shore like a snake in water. Once it had gathered all of itself onto more solid ground, it sat and waited for more of itself to arrive, bouncing and bubbling over the terrain in the meantime. They could only wait so long however, after all, there was much to collect and preserve and too little time to do so.
And it’s finished! Whew, I don’t typically write, so this was a lot to work on amidst all my finals projects (totally worth it tho! It was great practice). I wasn’t planning on writing so much about leapday, but then I realized the interesting potential of writing about players when they’re new to the world. If they are akin to gods, they still enter the world with a lot to learn. The goop at the end is Nightfall, who then went on to travel Hels and collect as many blocks and items as xe could before xe came across the city Evil X established. At first they were incredibly overwhelmed by the amount of stuff to preserve in the city and mostly stuck to collecting free scraps and garbage. It probably did something to gain the attention of a member of the Order of Remembrance, who taught Nightfall about their goals and a few things about how society/Hels worked. From there, Nightfall set off to establish a massive collection and documentation of anything and everything, working with people in the process but also quite an eccentric personality that can be quite a hermit when buried in paperwork (not many people are willing to do paperwork as diligently as Nightfall)
Also, YouCraft is YouTube in the Minecraft world :P I felt I needed to separate it from our version of mcyt because in this universe the characters are real and making videos about their lives rather than people playing a video game (at least that’s how I’m headcanoning it)
thank you @silverskye13 for providing some more lore about Hels and the Order of Remembrance (as well as Redstone and Skulk as a whole <3) as well as inspiring me to keep trying to improve my writing and thank you to @/yayforocs for inspiring me to finally make my own rns OCs and this post :3
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mamawasatesttube · 4 months
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do you ever think about how kon got drugged to the point of inability to think clearly and then enslaved for Two Fucking Months and then we just never mentioned that again? that is, except for when he went back to visit and help out the guys who enslaved and drugged him because he was lonely enough to befriend them after they said oh sowwy we didn't know you were a person uwu. i think about this a normal amount
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skitskatdacat63 · 8 months
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Fernando Alonso × Unconventional Drinking Implements
#if i had a nickel for every time nano drank out of a trophy id have two nickels. that's not a lot but its weird it happened twice#dont ask me if theres more i didnt have the mental capacity to look up all his podium pics...theres 20 years worth#but if you do have more somehow miraculousy do of course hit me up#this is one of these things i think that youd have to experience by watching a lot of races bcs finding it by keywords is impossible imo#though i did look up various trophies and now i want to make a tier list of trophies by drinkablity 😭#but yeah some people in the tags of the pics i posted were like 'he did exactly what i wanted to do![drink from the big cup basically]'#so this is like: hey! not the first time hes done it 🤭#but like if these are the only two times hes done it thats hilarious#bcs its been 18 yrs so was he suddenly like 'oh my god wait i just remembered what i can do with this'#but like the 2005 is the wcc win so it makes sense why he did smth so over the top#but this one i really really feel like he let the impulsive thoughts win and was just 'this looks like a giant cup....'#not pictured: flavio also drinking from the trophy. he was so indulgent of his boy 🥹#also i wonder if theres footage of him pouring in the champagne in 2023 cause i didnt even know he drank from it until i was looking at pic#cause thats my fav thing about the 2005 one is watching him trying to aim and pour it from way too high hahaha#oh also there is the brazil 2005 gp as well but he doesnt directly drink from it so i dont think it fits well here#but at the same time he really is looking at trophies like 'hmmm how well would this work as a cup'#f1#formula 1#fernando alonso#2023 dutch gp#2005 chinese gp#fa14#we do a little bit of f1#formula one
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junkalopes · 2 years
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frog ball is love. frog ball is life. go wishlist SLARPG on steam and itch.
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badolmen · 4 months
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“here’s a chubby [insert character name]! ☺️” but they still have defined obliques, no double chin, no fat over their belt, muscular arms, thigh gap -
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always-a-joyful-note · 6 months
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Wataru as Sanzo and and Hokuto as Goku is from a Dramatica play based on Journey to the West!
????????????
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sorry, sorry, I'm speechless. I love Journey to the West??? I just did a quick search and found those are apparently the JP names for Tang Sanzang/Tripitaka and Sun Wukong. That's SO wild...
I mean this is a random note but I did read Tempest Night (love that it was basically an exhortation to Anzu and Eichi and if we're being generous the player to not overwork themselves to death) and I just really love ALL the references to classical works. I know it's a thing a lot of anime does but Enstars really does it liberally. First a lot of Shakespeare, then some philosophers whose names escape me, pretty sure they've (mis)quoted the Bible and other religious texts, and we can't not mention Kaguya-hime, and now we have Journey to the West?
Thank you for the information, first of all! And secondly, I will use this to pretend that I knew something drew me to Enstars as a whole. Liberal and sometimes questionable use of historical humanities texts, as usual.
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nonuggetshere · 10 months
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Someone please just let Lummis or Petunia name the children
They already have a huge say in their names, otherwise they'd be much...much worse
Just look at Flower's sibling, they had unrestricted naming privileges and they named them fucking Baby
I can excuse "Trouble" because they were like 5 and it does describe Ghost perfectly, but Baby? PK and WL made a grave mistake by letting them do this
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navree · 11 months
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people talk about pumped up kicks as the premiere "school shooting song that is really catchy" but they're fools because i don't like mondays by the boomtown rats is right there and has been for nearly fifty years.
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yoinkschief · 11 months
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Hey y'all, little announcement time :)
It's nothing so serious so don't worry, haha
But I WILL be taking a break from social media for two weeks starting today. Nothing bad had happened, I promise, I'm perfectly okay :)! It's just in the last month a LOT has happened, and I'm grateful for it all
I've met a ton of cool people who are fantastic to be around, and I've had lots of fun talking and drawing with them and just interacting with them in general
And I've even had some of my idols/favorite artists follow me back which is CRAZY TO THINK ABOUT, and I know they're regular people like I am and I shouldn't get so worked up over this kind of stuff, but it's still crazy for me to think about it
Fuck it still boggles my mind that people like my stuff- I'm so not used to all this attention and that's why I'm taking a break, just cause I'm finally able to take a break from all the stress happening in my life and I deserve a bit of a break I'd say lol
I am SO GRATEFUL for all the love and support, gosh I still get giddy when I see likes or notes on my posts, to think people actually interact with my art, reminds me of when I was first starting on Instagram (my art was so bad LMAO I've improved so much) and I'd get lounge 3 likes from my friends and a couple handful from random strangers and I'd get flustered over that, it's the exact same as it is now hah
But I've never been good at handling tons of praise, I try to say thanks as much as I can to show my appreciation but I can't help but feel like I'm coming short, like I'm not properly expressing my gratitude. But that's personal butt problems I'm gonna try and work out over this break, or at least start to unravel the large yarn ball of, but just know every note or interaction I have makes me happy and I greatly appreciate all of you guys :)!!
Apologies for the long rant, I didn't mean to speak all much when it's just "TL;DR: Taking a break for two weeks cause I can't handle praise" haha, but I want y'all to know I'm fine, just don't wanna get a big head or anything lol and I also want to chill my beating heart cause it's crazy to be to think people actually enjoy shit of mine, that entire life forms with cognitive thoughts and lives of their own take time out of their day to spread a little joy my way. That's wild. It's crazy
Even that was a ramble, hah
Anyway, I'll be back soon! I'll probably only respond to DMs but I'll mainly be in Discord DMs because that's where my partner is so :) of you wanna reach me that's how
Also I might have a couple of scheduled posts for the next few days? Just so my account isn't dry? It's art I've already finished so I can instead work on the upcoming series :)
Yeah, still no name drop, lol, big debate on whether or not I would, but feel free to ask any questions about it now that the teasers are done, I'll try to answer as many as I can when I get back without spoiling anything lol
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nulltune · 2 years
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lemme-use-a-thorn · 2 years
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yes this is due to @eluminium ‘s post. i couldn’t help myself
The One Thing You Can’t Replace
Another story I heard about myself, this one happend on season nine,
We had this King in season nine whose advisor I dated once. His name was Ren and his advisor, Bdubs, was technically my ex-husband. We sort of got married on this death server, but then we died, so he’s my ex-husband.
And Ren was an asshole and one weekend he decided to leave town, which you should never do if you're an asshole. And I decided to throw a party in the King’s vault.
Hurrah!!(sarcastically) And everyone around town heard about it, and they all got up individually and thought: Okay, let's go over there and destroy the place.
I organized this party, everyone I had ever met was there, and everyone was dressed up like Xisuma like it was the last party ever. People were doing bad British accents like their lives depended on it. It was totally unsupervised; we were like dogs without horses, we were running wild.
We jumped down- we jumped down to the basement, they had a pool in the basement, but I’d covered it in glass. Cleo took a running start and threw herself into the basement and died. We played party games, stole the whole royal treasure. Normal things. So the party was going great.
I'm standing in the basement and I'm holding a red cup, you've seen movies, and I'm standing there, and I'm holding a red cup and I'm starting to black out. And I guess someone said like "something, something King Ren" and in a brilliant moment of word association, I yelled "fuck da King!"
"fuck da King!" and everyone else joined in. Twenty Hermits dressed like Xisuma yelling “fuck da King!” with the confidence of guys who have like already been to jail and aren't afraid of it anymore. You know that like "I served my nickle, you come and take me" confidence, but Hermits dressed as various Doomguys.
The reason someone had said "something, something King Ren" was because the King was there. So King Rendog walked down the stairs, and got to the bottom of the basement, and looked out over a sea of disguised Hermits yelling "fuck da King" in his face, and he was almost impressed he was like "wow". And then he leaned into his walkie-talkie and went "get the hoyguy". And my friend Grian, who is a father-this man has a baby, he grabbed a 40, smashed it on the ground, and yelled "scatter!" And everyone flew in a different direction, we all flew in different directions. It was like that scene in Rataouille when the humans come in the kitchen and all the rats go in different ways, we all flew in different directions, except Joe who jumped down into the pool and got stuck there.
I flew out the top of the vault, hitting my head a bunch, and crash-landing in the hallway. and now I'm running down the mountain and there's this big drop to the shopping district and I thought "I've never fallen from that high before" and then I woke up at home.
On Monday, I went to our regular meeting, because that's what we did back then. And I'm walking into the building and who do I see, but Bdubs and he says to me "hey, were you at that party on Saturday?" and I said "no", you know, like a liar. And he said "things got really out of hand, someone stole all the diamonds, someone covered the pool with glass"
"but the worst thing", he says, "the worst thing is that someone kidnapped the Warden in the basement." And I had that thought, that only black out drunks and Steve Urkel can have, did-did I do that? I figured no, I wouldn't have done that, but I wasn’t sure until, 2 weeks later.
Relax
I'm hanging out with Tango, two weeks later, long after the party. We're talking about Decked Out 2 for a couple hours and then Tango says to me, "Hey, come here. I want to show you something." And then he takes me into the dungeon, and then he takes me into a side room off of the dungeon. Never a good thing to have. He shows me a tiny room that is filled wall to wall in stolen named Wardens from different people's parties over the season.
And I said "why?" (in a whisper)
(still whispering) "why do you do this?"
And Tango said, "because it's the one thing you can't replace."
That's the end of that story, but how fucked up is that? right? that's crazy!
So I don’t throw parties anymore.
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chryzure-archive · 2 years
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college au jacks is rlly rlly funny to me bc yeah, he’s a fate! he’s got a cursed kiss! he can control ppl’s feelings! he can control people’s hearts! he is still the most pathetic, wet rag of a person, whose roommate locked him out of their dorm the week after school started, so he had to stay at the house of the girl in charge of the group project he’d been trying to avoid. later, after his roommate lets jacks back into his dorm room (please note that this happened two months into the semester), said roommate MOVED OUT OVERNIGHT, without jacks being any the wiser 💀
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diataragmenos · 2 years
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mothocean · 2 years
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Actually it's kinda weird how many salmonella outbreaks we had recently. First chocolate now peanut butter. What's happening in those factories
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shadesoflsk · 3 months
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YOUR? OUR MARGARET
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PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader
SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.
WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!
WORD COUNT: 4.5k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!
MY MASTERLIST
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Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.
He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.
Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has. 
He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is. 
A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.
Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon. 
However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:
Dada.
Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.
It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man. 
Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better. 
So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature. 
Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.
Peaceful, he liked it. 
But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon. 
After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging. 
The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.
At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.
His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.
“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him. 
“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.
A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.
And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience. 
Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air. 
You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.
“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”
“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.” 
“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.
She started crying.
You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew. 
“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having. 
You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.
“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”
“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.
“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”
“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”
“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.
“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”
It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.
Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.
Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence. 
However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.
“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”
“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy. 
“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye. 
Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings. 
And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret. 
Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.
He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk. 
However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you. 
Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up. 
He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.
It was as if the universe was against him.
Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.
On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.
“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”
In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.
“I wouldn't like to intrude.”
“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”
Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.
“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”
“Are you free this 14th?” 
He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time. 
Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?
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He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.
The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish. 
But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date. 
Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror. 
Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.
The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.
He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.
The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations. 
He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.
But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.
He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do. 
But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.
He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario. 
Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope. 
So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.
Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret. 
He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.
When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.
A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.
“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”
Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret. 
“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.
“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself. 
“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”
Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.
You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.
“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.
He wants to.
“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry. 
And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.
“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.
Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle. 
“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you. 
“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.
As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep. 
“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose. 
You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.
You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter. 
“Would you like to help me?” You murmur. 
Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.
“If you let me.”
Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you. 
You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.
As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior. 
Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.
“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this. 
“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.
If that was even possible.
As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.
You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it. 
He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.
If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world. 
Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.
Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.
He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.
Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess. 
As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.
What's next?
What is he supposed to do now? 
As if on cue, your words break the silence.
“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.
“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”
“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.
“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”
He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.
For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.
Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.
“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you. 
You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.
As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.
Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.
Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.
The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.
After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.
“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”
He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have. 
“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted. 
“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”
“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”
Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.
He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.
And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession. 
A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—
Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.
He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.
As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.
And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.
The one is indeed not a myth.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)
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💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.
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