when youre autistic everyday is batman day 👍
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Lael's (inspired by @skepticalfrog's fic)
like most people, my relationship with God and religion isn't all that... straightforward. like most people I'm always trying to unentangle my own faith in the universe and people and everything from what I was taught to believe in growing up. i don't know if there's a God. i don't know that it matters. but i do feel like the world would be a better place if we believed that God was an old Guatemalan man who runs a diner in Kansas. that He is in the impressions of kindness in this world, wherever they may be. isn't that kind of the whole point of it, anyway?
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“You trust me?”
Toralei glanced up at the ghoul before her. Clawdeen Wolf had placed her hands on the werecat’s shoulders, and was staring very intensely into her eyes. Her expression was serious, but her golden eyes shimmered with unrestrained glee. That both delighted, and terrified Toralei.
She’d expressed to her ghoulfriend not too long ago about wanting to cut her hair. It had grown out considerably in the last few months, to the point where it started to graze her shoulders. It had been fun for a while to experiment with different styles, and finally being able to put it all up into a ponytail was interesting, but now she was over it. She typically cut it herself, much to her adoptive mother’s dismay, but upon hearing Toralei’s desire for a new hairdo, Clawdeen insisted upon cutting it for her. Unable to find a justified reason to decline, Toralei hesitantly agreed.
And so there they were, in Toralei’s bedroom, a small tarp laid out on the floor, courtesy of Mr. Stripe, and Toralei in her desk chair in the middle of it. Clawdeen stood before her, the gold hairdressing clippers in her hand looking particularly menacing as they glinted in the sunlight streaming through her window.
Forcing a smile, Toralei answered her with a less than confident, “Yes?”
Clawdeen threw her head back and laughed. “You should! As if I’d be caught alive dating someone with a busted head of hair anyway!”
“You have been for the last few months,” Toralei quipped back. Then bit her tongue upon realizing she'd just roasted herself. Clawdeen erupted into laughter once more.
“You said it, not me,” she agreed. She ran her fingers through Toralei’s red-orange locks. They had already washed and conditioned it, leaving it damp. The werecat’s scalp tingled at her touch, and she let out a low purr. Clawdeen smiled at the sound of it. “Your hair is super uneven. The left side is choppy, and it’s a lot longer in the back than on top. You could probably rock a killer mullet if you wanted.”
Toralei scoffed. “And be called a Holt Hyde wannabe? No thank you.” She paused. “…Well maybe after graduation.”
“That’s not my vision for you anyway,” Clawdeen announced, that determined expression returning to her face.
“What is your vision?” Toralei asked warily.
“It’s a surprise. You ready?”
Toralei did not like surprises. Cats rarely reacted well to be surprised. But she liked Clawdeen, and the feeling of her clawed fingers running through her hair. So, uneasy as she may have felt, she forced a smirk and nodded. “Ready!”
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