#devil ryan

DEVIL RYAN! for my good friend @ryanthatsgay heheheheheh loved drawing this sexy beast.

Vivian - Rae leaves Vivian’s gift inside of her apartment and breaks every moral code she has ever had about privacy just because she doesn’t want anyone to steal it. She could have left it with the doorman of Viv’s apartment complex, but it means too much to her (and hopefully Viv) to just place into the hands of a stranger like that. The box is wrapped in solid red wrapping paper - something about that color hurts her now, makes her think of how deep and stuck Vivian is and how her sister doesn’t really want to be helped out of the pit (she hates how she’s started thinking of it in terms of insider and outsider; she may have left Nexus, but she’s not an outsider looking in - she’s still stuck there, too, in her thoughts, at least) - and is tied together with a gold ribbon. Inside, protected by little styrofoam peanuts (because she cares that much), is a sad-looking one-eared teddy bear. His coat is relatively clean because Rae’s kept him in good condition for all of the years. The missing ear - an odd stump which was stitched shut by their mom so the poor teddy wouldn’t lose his insides - is from a time long ago when Viv grew out of the teddy bear and their dad passed it onto Rae. Little Viv, however, had withdrawal symptoms a few years after Rae received the teddy for her first birthday and snatched it from her sister. A scuffle ensued, and the tragic bear lost his left ear. It eventually did fall into Rae’s possession, and she clung to it extra after their parents died in the crash. Lying in the bear’s lap is a card: Dear Vivian, Hope you remember Mr. Fuzzy. I can’t recall what his name was when you had him, but I remember renaming him to something I found easier to remember - or just something I liked. I tried to keep him looking swell, but there’s nothing to do about that ear we ripped off when I was three and you were five. It wouldn’t be the same if I found another ear to sew back on or something, anyway. I know technically he’s mine and has been for awhile, but… I don’t want him anymore. He belonged to little you in the first place, and she should have that part of her life back. I don’t know why I keep trying to fix things between us, but maybe it’s time I let go. When a friendship breaks and tries to come back together, at least one person doesn’t return the same. I don’t know when it started exactly - I’m not sure if I was 8, 14, 16, 17, 19, or in my early 20s - but what I do know is that we’re not the same people anymore, and it’s pointless of me to want a relationship between two little kids who shared the same bedroom and held each other’s hand in an ambulance in New Jersey. Sometimes, you just have to let go of a part of your life and move on. For the longest time, you were that most important part. You were the person I thought of every single day, but you aren’t anymore, sadly. I almost forgot to put you on my Christmas list. I’m sorry. I really am. But, it’s a good thing to move on and start a new chapter. What’s past is past. The only thing that can be changed, can be written, can be made anew, is the future. Just make sure to write a good one without me. I’ll see you around, hopefully. Merry Christmas. - Love, Rachel. It’s so formal, professional enough that she signs Vivian’s full given name instead of a nickname. So formal that it’s the only present she signs off with as “Rachel”. Anybody who’s ever known her knows that she never uses Rachel for anything, hardly introduces herself as anyone other than Rae. It’s what makes this all the more real and earth-shattering and heart-wrenching. It sounds like an honest-to-God break-up letter. Because it is. Because after 17 years, 4 months, and 13 days - 6344 days after their parents died and the loss started them on two different paths that only looked the same at first but turned out to go in completely opposite directions, Rae has finally moved on from her mourning. The grief will always stay, though, because four people died in that crash, and she just never realized that the mourning only ceased when she stopped trying to be that eight-year-old girl and stopped trying to see her sister as that nine-and-three-quarters-year-old girl. The pain fades away; that feeling of longing and yearning disappears; the hole in her heart makes way for a different kind of love. She was born with a sister, but that doesn’t mean she has to really stay with just the one.

So when the devil wants to dance with you, you better say never Because the dance with the devil might last you forever"