I asked my beloved @xeiling-skies to draw me a Silco dammit doll and they pulled through in an extraordinary way.
My headcanon is that at some point there was an outbreak of these around the Lanes that spread like wildfire - Silco dammit dolls sold at every corner, every shop and eventually, when Silco got wind of it, through covert, under the table dealings. Silco violently opposed this but couldn't find the supplier in order to bring his fist down so just had to suffer as people beat him to shit, probably tearing up at his desk whenever he heard that one had been confiscated from the Last Drop.
I am at it again.
Listened to a song (bonus point if you get WHAT SONG is and what this whole artwork references) and this is the result of this morning streaming. I will probably continue to work on this later on, because I am extremely invested, ngl, so expect another streaming later on, and if you have nothing to do, you all are welcome.
This song just speaks to me so much on so many levels for them, it's not even funny. The whole reference to the stars (and if you have been with me a while, you know the strong association that Dottie as with the Stars), the whole situation Jacob and Dottie are into due to their different allegiances and how, despite everything, they want to do EVERYTHING in their power to be together, because they are just meant to be... like, this song is just them.
And each time I draw them together, I manage to fall in love with them a little more. They truly are a piece of my heart. <3
Well, time for me to get some lunch!
idflolibn chapter 10 gatorade pov🐈⬛
happy birthday to prince simon in @prince-simon ‘s fic here’s some angsty cat pov
(here’s the last gatorade pov)
Something’s wrong with my human. He’s always in bed, and his face is always leaky. He’s sick. Floppy Head is taking care of him, but he’s not getting better.
They haven’t come home for days now. Maybe Fluffy Head is at the vet. Grandma from downstairs came to me last night, feeding me double portions and making me promise not to tell my dads.
I love grandma. But I miss Floppy Head. (And Fluffy Head too, I guess.)
I’m scared. Fluffy Head seems really sick. He can’t die before me. I thought humans lived very long!
They finally come home, and I scream at Fluffy Head for leaving me home alone for so long. I thought he died! How dare he!
Fluffy Head’s face crumples. He falls onto his legs, and his face is all leaky. His human pets him on the head, getting onto the floor too and holding him close. Is something wrong with Fluffy Head’s legs, why are they not working? Did someone hurt him?
(Humans can be so, so bad. Fluffy Head is an asshole, but whoever hurt him, I’ll rip their eyes out. Only I can bully my human.)
Fluffy Head keeps calling for my name. His face is leaking, the way when he’s very sad. I can understand that. I hate going to the vet too.
I almost feel bad for him, so I let his human pick me up and put me in Fluffy Head’s lap. Fluffy Head slides his paw on my back, scratching the top of my head. It’s not as nice as when Floppy Head does it. My human does it all wrong - my fur is sticking up on wrong ends. But I let him do it for a while, until I’m sure he’s not dying, and I escape again, pushing at his paw.
Fluffy Head makes an angry noise, and I hiss back at him. That’s more like it. I’m glad he got some life back in him.
Even Floppy Head looks tired. Fluffy Head is in bed all day, and Floppy Head spends his time talking to me, or talking to himself, and huffing unhappily all the time. I glare at him but he doesn’t stop.
The house is filled with a bad mood. I might not understand human noises, but I can feel it.
My human and his human are fighting. I watch from above on the top of my tower, the one with scratchy and fluffy bits that Floppy Head brought home for me a few months ago. From up here, my dads look like tiny kittens.
Humans don’t hit each other when they fight. They’re holding each other, but they’re screaming and crying. Floppy Head’s face is leaking when he leaves.
Fluffy Head stays in the middle of the room, standing still with his face leaking too.
I jump off the tower and loiter around Fluffy Head’s feet. I ask him if Floppy Head’s coming back. He shrugs, face screwed up together and rubbing his eyes with a paw.
His sadness is contagious. I want to yell at him, but I’m worried too. What if Floppy Head doesn’t come back, and my human is sad and sick forever? He won’t abandon Fluffy Head like this, right?
Fluffy Head would never abandon me. Surely his human won’t abandon him either.
I make a sad noise, and Fluffy Head assumes I’m hungry, emptying a tin into my bowl whilst still moping. I’m not going to complain about more food, so I eat. He squats in front of me, folding all his paws together and watching me dejectedly. I let him pet my head once or twice.
He keeps talking to me. I assume he’s asking me if his human will come home or not. I say yes even though I don’t know the truth, and he won’t understand anyway.
I put Fluffy Head to bed. He fell asleep curled up on the sofa, and I jumped on him, urging him to go sleep in his bed instead. He’s always sleepy nowadays. I hope the sleep will make him heal faster.
I wait for Floppy Head to come home. I’m almost asleep when he’s here, and I call out for him. He cuddles me for a while, and I’m just glad that he’s back.
My human’s mama came to take care of them both. I think it’s his mama - brown skin, fluffy hair. I’m glad she’s giving Floppy Head cuddles - he looks like he’s going to be sick too. I don’t know how to take care of humans. She feeds both of my humans, and she snuck me a little piece of beef too.
Fluffy Mama stays in the house for a day or two, and she looks like she might take Floppy Head for a walk. (I hate being taken on walks - but Floppy Head should definitely go on one.)
Floppy Head carries me to bed, and tells me ‘take care of dad, okay?’ I meow at him, butting my head into his paw to tell him I understood.
My human has been curled up in bed for days now. He didn’t even touch his food. I curl up at the end of the bed, and his cold back paw pushes gently at my belly. I don’t move, and I let him keep his paw there.
He stops fidgeting and sleeps a bit more, making small noises and curling up on his side, until his human comes back.
I hope Dad gets better soon. I miss him when he was better.