I get so tired of hiding who I love. Every day, I want to just scream it from the rooftops and love who I love, outloud. I want to post pics of my BF and me like it’s common knowledge and no big deal. Our polycule’s 6 year anniversary is coming up, and I want to show off cutesy pics of the 4 of us and tell our story.
I want to not give a shit about what people think, the judgement we would inevitably get, or the friends I’d probably lose (but were they real friends anyway if they don’t love me for who I am?).
While not out to most friends and family, we don’t hide it in the general public. I always hope that someone runs into us somewhere and the cat is out of the bag. I want to say, “yep, THISISUS, we’re all happier than a fat kid with cake, and we’re no different than yesterday when you didn’t know we were romantically involved.” It seems so unnatural and weird to love someone so much but just “be friends” in so many settings and to so many people.
You know you have something pretty damn great when you’re wrapped up in your boyfriend’s arms in your bed on a Sunday morning and your husband walks in (coming home from his sleepover with Rachel) and says “oh, hey, guys, just getting my work clothes, I’ll be outta here in 30 seconds.” I love my love and I love my polycule.
(As a side note, Ross and I were like, “it’s not what it looks like!” and then laughed hysterically because it’s exactly what it looks like.)
Last Tuesday was 3 years since the swinger event where we met Ross and Rachel. We knew we liked them, but we had no idea it would lead us here.
I know I’ve written about the start of our 4some before. No one was looking for a relationship, this was casual fun only, yadda, yadda. Yet…here we are.
To mark the day, we went out for a nice dinner, where we reminisced over good food and drinks about how we met, what we were thinking, 1st dates (I was so nervous!!), original messages (so fun to go back and read them), and the early days. We ended the date by spending the night together.
The 4 of us have shared concerts, float trips, vacations, family dinners with the kids, nights at the dive bar, moves, losses, fears, a whole list of firsts, tears of laughter, and tears of sadness. I can’t wait to share even more, and, hopefully, that includes the rest of my life.
There were a lot of pieces that had to fall into place to facilitate our coming together. Little things like where we sat at the M&G, to big things like Chandler’s and my timing on re-entering the LS and the fateful Halloween party that spurred Ross and Rachel to explore the LS. I’m not a fate and destiny kind of girl, but did the stars just align perfectly? I stole borrowed the term from someone else, but I like to refer to March 19 as our “universary;” the day the universe shifted for each of the 4 of us.
I can’t imagine our life without Ross and Rachel. We had a great life before, but they just make it that much fuller and more vibrant. They are our lovers, our partners in crime, our best friends. They are our people.
Couldn’t stop thinking about the depot agents of the battle subway until I gave them all faces and personalities. It only fuels my desire for a spin-off slice of life series set in Nimbasa/Gear Station. It would be so ridiculous…and my arms are long enough to hold more than TWO train goofballs.
The Russian Santa Claus in Siberia (The eastern part of Russia situated in Asia). He’s known as Ded Moroz. -Merry Xmas from Universal Beauty
Winner of the Best-Dressed Santa Award, hands down!
meanwhile this level 100 wizard
Not quite. This is Yakutian Chys Khan, Ded Moroz’s northern “brother”. Russian Federation is a melting pot of different cultures, it’s not just slavs, don’t forget that.
This is Ded Moroz (a.k.a. Father Frost)
And here they are together
wow, don’t forget Snegurochka, his daughter, the snow maiden, who always accompanies him. She has a beautifuk kokoshnik crown that is essentially a big snowflake
or, more contemporarily, a cute toque
don’t leave her out :(
Ooh
Since this is back to my dash, I’ll add some more mebers to the Snow Wizard family!
Buryatian Sagan Ubugun
Samoyedan Yamal-iri
Evenkia has a female one, Tugeni Enekehn, Mother Winter
Udurmutian Tol Babai
Karelian Pakkaine, the youngest one, he doesn’t even have a beard.
There are more. They annualy host “summits” and visit each-other across Russia.
Laboriously designed and created just for you, a spectrum of 42 different pearls to stand around and hold your stuff for you. Which one’s your favorite?
A Count The Days story, featuring Vee. Content warning for dehumanisation,both shown and implied, blood, death mentions and general world typical violence. Also I’m sorry it’s so long- I got kind of carried away with the little bastard surgeon man.
—
The next people in line are the lanky man who wouldn’t look out of place in a university lecture theatre and the little blonde-haired pet at his feet. Vee checks the details on his computer, and reads off that the patient is Haskell, and the chaperone is Iverson. He tries to commit the names to memory but knows he’ll probably forget. He assumes, rightly, that the pet sitting on the floor is the patient and the chaperone is the man lounging across the plastic chairs, leafing through the old magazines Vee has out.
He takes inventory of the two before bringing them in, pretending to squint at his monitor. The sensors at the edge of the room read no weapons or high-grade implants on either of them. Haskell is sat beside Iverson, legs crossed over each other, occasionally subconsciously scratching at the heavier-than-usual shock collar Iverson has opted for, working a finger under the leather to itch at his neck. He has a nice suit on, but Vee notices the absence of cufflinks, that the tie is sewn on and that the suit trousers are elasticated.
Iverson, on the other hand, is a curly-haired, disproportionately lanky man, in a brown knitted cardigan, brown brogues and grey slacks, a battered suit jacket thrown over the outfit. He doesn’t look like the sort to be in the pet business, more like a librarian or professor, but Vee knows you never know.
Couldn’t stop thinking about the depot agents of the battle subway until I gave them all faces and personalities. It only fuels my desire for a spin-off slice of life series set in Nimbasa/Gear Station. It would be so ridiculous…and my arms are long enough to hold more than TWO train goofballs.
(SWANA: as in, South West Asian and North African)
I would like to be blessed so I am just humbly requesting you gush to me about your SWANA ocs, whether they are Amazigh / Arab / Assyrian / Romani / Kurdish / Circassian… etc.
I’ll go first <3
Nariman Tabris – Palestinian Arab
She is my precious sword elf – and her fav pastime is punching dickheads in the face. She romanced Alistair and after they save the world, they travel the Free Marches together. @ bioware you hear that? Never do they ever go near Adamant.
Areina Lavellan – Afro-Palestinian Arab
My main inquisitor. The apple of my eye. I would cut down armies for her. She is an archeologist at heart and she upgrades from Solas after Inquisition and dates Bram Kenric <3
Baraa-Nour Adaar – Iraqi Arab
He’s my AU inquisitor. Proudly demi and full of platonic love. He’s so big bc he needs somewhere to hold all his love for his friends. He also dates Solas because I’m allergic to happiness.
Tanyeli Trevelyan - Turkish
She’s a trans half-elven lesbian who loves her wife, Sera. She takes shit from no one and has no tolerance for rules.
Enara Cemile Lavellan - Turkish + Syrian
My first ever Inquisitor and oc that belongs to my cultures <3 bi+demi, romances Cullen, owns many dogs and cats. She’s very soft.
Tansel Adaar - Turkish
Veeeeerrryyy gaaaaaay. Very tall. Dotes on his boyfriend, Dorian. Trans and buff as fuck because he deserves it ❤ he’s stoic and stressed and needs a break
Destan Hawke - Turkish + Syrian
Married to Sebastian. Purple Hawke who takes about 5% of things seriously. Laughs at terrible moments. Idealistic.
