#I have to constantly be feeling and if I'm not I forget how to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

monicfever · 18 hours ago

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hiii angel!! i was wondering of you'd do something for dex and reader who has severe attachment and abandonment issues? i love love love your work sm!! <33

ben poindexter x attachment/abandonment!issues reader. 𝜗𝜚 headcanon’s

r e q u e s t e d ♡

cw ᝰ .ᐟ co dependency ,, toxic relationship probably? idk my heart shaped glasses are on ,, gender neutral reader ,, it’s dex so .. yah

DEX knows that kind of fear. the kind that makes your chest ache when someone takes too long to reply. the kind that whispers they’re leaving. so when you get quiet and distant and paranoid, he doesn’t take it personal. doesn’t get mad when you ask for reassurance three times in ten minutes — just pulls you into his arms and says it again: i’m not leaving. i’m right here.

he literally doesn’t know how to process being wanted this much. this is probably one of the most ideal scenarios out there for him.

emotional dependency. if one of you is upset, you can’t focus on anything until the other is calmed down.

dex lets you kiss his pulse when he’s scared. he won’t say it out loud, but it grounds him — to feel your lips where his heart beats. to know someone wants him alive. you let him kiss your wrist in return.

he lets you cling. he needs it too, if he’s being honest. lets you tangle your limbs around him like a lifeline. lets you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, steady and real and not going anywhere.

the relationship isn’t about space, it’s about closeness. constant closeness. suffocatingly sweet, terrifyingly intense closeness.

you joke about being codependent and he nods like it’s a compliment. like, yeah? obviously.

you’ve both made it a habit to over-reassure each other when you talk about friends or exes. like, you’ll say “she’s nice, but she’s not you. no one makes me feel like you do.” dex’ll say “he’s cool, but you’re mine.” and it never sounds forced. it sounds like medicine.

you’ve both had full-blown meltdowns over someone going to the store without saying goodbye. the smallest silence, the smallest gap in communication triggers that deep, clawing fear: they left. they didn’t think it mattered.

both have habits to constantly reassure each other you're still chosen. dex will tap your thigh three times — his silent code for i love you, i'm here, i’m not leaving. you squeeze his hand in return — i know, i feel it, don’t stop.

he sends voice notes when he knows you’re spiraling. tells you exactly what he’s doing, exactly when he’ll be home. never ghosts, never disappears. he knows what that does to someone.

lets you repeat yourself. lets you doubt. lets you cry. he gets it — how love feels like something that could vanish if you breathe wrong. he lets you see him anxious, too. the tapping, the pacing, the tension in his jaw. not to make you feel guilty — but so you know you’re not alone. you don’t scare him. he’d rather have you panicked and clinging to him than not have you at all.

it’s terrifying how much he loves you. he needs you like air, like sleep, like the pills he forgets to take when he's too busy watching your location update on his phone. he never calls it stalking. he calls it making sure you’re okay. calls it looking out for you. calls it love.

he adores that you’re clingy. never complains. never rolls his eyes. in fact, the more you need him, the calmer he feels. finally, someone who wants him like that. who’s just as intense. neither of you go anywhere alone unless it’s absolutely necessary. if you could, you’d share one nervous system. always touching — pinkies hooked, shoulders pressed, legs tangled.

both of you panic when the other doesn’t answer the phone right away. he’s texting “where are you? are you okay?” while you're calling back in a frenzy thinking he got hurt.

falling asleep on top of him. always. his chest, his lap, draped across his body like a weighted blanket. he’d stop breathing before he’d ask you to move.

you panic when he leaves. even if he says it’s nothing big, even if it’s just a quick job. you cling to him at the door, voice cracking as you whisper “what if you don’t come back?” — dex melts. completely. cups your face in both hands, presses your forehead to his and says “hey. i’m coming back. i always come back to you.”

he leaves behind a hoodie that smells like him. a voicemail saying “i love you” just in case. his location’s always on. he double checks the locks before he goes. triple checks if you’re crying.

the second he’s home he’s dropping everything at the door, walking straight to you like he’s been starving. wraps his arms around you and mumbles, “missed you so bad. i’m sorry, i’m here now. i’m not going anywhere baby, i’ve got you.” you’re curled up on the couch in his hoodie, cheeks blotchy from crying, and he’s just standing there staring at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen. like, he thinks you’re so adorable when you need him. “gonna make it up to you,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair while you cling to him. “wont go anywhere without you. won’t even go to the bathroom without you, swear to god.”

and he doesn’t. for the next 24 hours he’s glued to your side, follows you around the house like a puppy. lays on top of you like a weighted blanket, kisses every inch of your face until you start laughing through the tears.

you’re in his lap while he eats. in his lap while he watches tv. he literally can’t function unless you’re physically touching him. one hand on your thigh, arm slung around your shoulder, pinkies linked — something.

if you say “i thought you were gonna die,” he gets so soft. kisses the corner of your eye, strokes your cheek with the back of his hand and says, “you really love me that much, huh?” like he’s shy about it.

he thinks it’s so cute when you get possessive too. like if you cling to his sleeve when someone flirts with him, he leans in and kisses you right there, smiling against your mouth.

you both have those breakdowns where it’s not even words, just shaking and holding each other like it’s the only thing keeping your hearts beating. and every time he promises it again. even if he already said it twenty times that day. “i’m not going anywhere. i couldn’t even if i wanted to. you’ve got me forever.”

one time he tried to leave in the middle of the night for something “quick.” didn’t want to wake you. but you did wake up — reached out, found the bed empty, and by the time he was at the door, you were sobbing in the hallway. he immediately dropped his bag, walked back to you with the most heartbroken look on his face. cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing your tears away. you clung to him so tight he just sank to the floor with you, held you there until the sun came up. whispered over and over, “shhh. i’m not mad. you’re allowed to need me. i love it when you need me.”

he started letting you tag along after that. even if it’s just waiting in the car. even if you’re not doing anything. he’d rather see your worried face through the windshield than not see you at all.

he talks to you through his earpiece. “you still there, baby?” / “mhm.” / “talk to me. tell me what you’re gonna make me for dinner. i just wanna hear your voice.” and if you do stay home, he calls during the job. on the job. literally ducking behind cover like “hey, yeah, just wanted to say i miss you. i’ll be home soon, okay?” - - que him throwing a rock at matts forehead without even looking. when he comes back, he doesn’t even take off his boots before grabbing your face and kissing you breathless. muttering “you okay? did you cry? i missed you.” (part of him secretly likes it when you cry over him.)

he’ll cancel plans to stay in bed with you. has zero problem being irresponsible if it means holding you through a panic attack or a clingy spiral.

absolutely calls you pet names when you’re anxious. “sweetheart,” “angel,” “my baby.” says them soft and slow, like a lullaby, until you settle in his arms.

he wants the mess. wants the tears. wants the clinginess. it makes him feel safe. it makes him feel real. desired. if you ever try to apologize for needing too much he cuts you off with a kiss. “you’re exactly what i’ve always wanted.”

if you ever pull back, even just a little — even for a second — he goes absolutely wild. not in a “calm down” kind of way. in a “no, no, no” kind of way, like you’re slipping through his fingers. the moment you don’t immediately reach for him, his chest tightens, his heart rate picks up. “what’s wrong? don’t you want me?”

if you stop needing him for a second, even in a non-desperate, non-needy way, he can’t breathe. he panics. he feels his whole world shattering. like you’re getting ready to leave him. your clinginess feeds him. he knows you care. if you even accidentally pull away or seem like you’re trying to give him some space, he’s on you within seconds. wrapping his arms around you like you’re the only thing keeping him from falling apart. he cracks when you show signs of independence. he thinks it’s a sign you’re going to disappear.

his mind works overtime, spiraling into the idea that if you don’t cling to him, if you don’t hold him like you’re terrified of losing him — then you will leave him.

starts to feel resentful of anything that takes you away from him. if you hang out with friends, if you don’t text him back immediately, if you want time for yourself, it all feels like a slow rejection.

will whine or get genuinely upset if you don’t show enough physical affection. even if he’s the one who’s too clingy, he’ll act like you’ve abandoned him just for pulling away for a minute.

he doesn’t like when you act like you’ve got it together. when you try to be strong without him. it makes him feel like you don’t need him anymore, like he’s invisible. “i thought you needed me. i thought i was the one you couldn’t live without.”

obsessive, compulsive tracking. you go to the store? he needs to know when you’re leaving, when you’re back, what you bought. stalker tendencies. if you leave for a moment, if you go out alone — he’ll follow. just to make sure you’re not leaving him or finding someone else.

he listens to you so obediently. whatever you say goes. if you tell him to stay close, he doesn’t question it. if you tell him to sit down, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing and sit at your feet.

he’ll drop everything for you. his work, his hobbies, his interests — none of it matters if you need him.

both of you feed into each other’s worst fears: being abandoned, being alone. you make excuses for each other, let each other get away with anything just to avoid the uncomfortable idea of ever losing the other.

he enjoys knowing that you're so wrapped up in him, that when you feel abandoned, it’s almost as if the world is crumbling. he doesn’t want to be cruel, but he can’t help the rush it gives him knowing you’ll always look to him first for validation, for connection.

dex knows exactly how to get under your skin when you're struggling with your abandonment issues. when you try to shut him out emotionally, he’s the one to make you feel like it’s impossible to be without him. the more you get lost in your own head, the more he thrives on being your constant. when your insecurities flare up he doesn’t give you space; he pulls you in closer, touches you in ways that ground you. dex loves that you fall apart when he isn’t there. when you shut down or spiral into your own head, he sees it as proof that you can’t exist without him.

when you catch him spiraling, getting quiet, withdrawn, convinced you’re gonna leave - you drop everything to hold him. he clings to your shirt and hides his face in your neck like a kid. he never had that kind of comfort growing up, and now he craves it from you. only you.

when either of you even jokes about leaving, the other shuts it down immediately. it’s not funny. not even a little. you both get too in your heads about it, replaying it for hours after, paranoid it wasn’t a joke at all.

you both feed off each other’s clinginess. if one of you starts it — handsy, needy, whispering you can’t sleep without them — the other doubles it, tenfold. suddenly you're locked in each other’s arms like the world’s ending and only this moment exists.

keeps one of your things with him at all times. could be a hoodie, a piece of jewelry, even a chapstick you used once. he doesn’t tell you, but when he’s losing it, he holds it like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. when you find it and realize he’s been carrying it around? you start doing it too.

neither of you knows how to fight without the deep-rooted panic that this will be the one that ends it. dex raises his voice once, and your heart drops into your stomach. you go quiet and his hands are already in his hair, begging under his breath — “don’t shut down. don’t leave.”

when one of you leaves the room for more than ten minutes without saying where you’re going, the other’s already pacing. it’s ridiculous. dex once came back from a shower to find you curled up on the floor thinking he bailed. now he always announces where he’s going. even if it’s just the kitchen.

when one of you is away for too long, you both lose sleep. it’s not just missing each other. it’s panic. dex gets snappy and withdrawn, you get dramatic and anxious. the reunion is always intense. too many emotions, too much relief.

he doesn’t just get protective. he gets viciously protective when you talk about past relationships, past abandonments. he hates thinking about you being hurt before him. loving someone before him.

sometimes dex gets so overwhelmed by how much he loves you that he just shuts down. goes quiet. curls up against you and buries his face in your stomach, you play with his hair until he comes back.

you both hate sleeping without the other now. you try to be normal about it, but you wake up nauseous. dex stares at the door like you might walk in. even one night apart leaves you both off balance. you sleep facing each other a lot. turning your back feels like a statement, and neither of you could survive misinterpreting that in the dark.

he picks up on your micro-expressions instantly. your blink patterns, how you fidget when you’re upset, how your smile twitches when you’re scared. he watches you like a survival manual. you do the same to him — he calls it creepy as a joke, but he melts every time.

dex starts fights on purpose when he’s scared you’re pulling away. just to make sure you care.

your phone backgrounds are each other. not even cute aesthetic photos — full-on, raw, vulnerable pictures.

you both keep little mementos from each other. you write notes to each other constantly. on mirrors, on receipts, on the backs of your hands. he has every post-it note you’ve ever written. you keep a receipt from a gas station because he held your hand in the parking lot and told you he’d never let go. you keep them like relics. like insurance against loneliness.

when one of you gets triggered or panicky, the other instinctively lowers their voice, softens their movements, goes small. you both know what it’s like to be too scared to ask for comfort.

every time one of you has a nightmare, the other doesn’t ask what it was. not unless you want to say it. instead, the rule is: water, forehead kiss, wrap around each other until your breathing syncs. the night resets when you find each other again.

there’s a rule: never leave the house angry. ever. if you fight, you sit on the floor, back to back, and you breathe. five minutes. ten. until the tension melts.

you keep a shared notebook for when the feelings are too big. you write letters to each other in it, especially on hard days. sometimes dex scribbles “i love you even when you’re quiet.” and leaves it on your pillow. you write back: “i love you when you’re angry. i know why you get that way.”

dex lets you trace his scars when you’re anxious, over and over. even the ones he usually hides. you do it like it’s sacred. like every inch of him deserves love. when he can’t breathe, you ask him to trace your spine, your jaw, your hands. it calms him every time.

dex keeps a note in his phone called “what to do when they’re hurting.” it’s just little things you’ve said helped. your favourite snacks. songs that pull you back. the way you like your hair touched.

you both panic when the other one sleeps too still. like — is that still breathing? dex has absolutely leaned over you, whispered “baby?” until you stirred just slightly. and you’ve done the same, barely touching his chest with your fingers to feel it rise.

marks you up when he’s jealous. hickeys, scratches, bite marks in places only he’ll see. for control — for comfort, for proof. you do the same. a little too hard with your nails. a kiss with too much teeth.

he absolutely malfunctions when you compliment him too earnestly. like, he can take teasing or playful flattery, but if you look at him dead serious and say something he stares at you like you’ve knocked the wind out of him.

he doesn’t know how to handle the way you hover when he’s injured or just tired. like bringing him water, checking his face for any sign of discomfort, asking “need anything?” every ten minutes. he’s never had someone be gentle with him like that, it completely unravels him.

becomes totally silent when you trace his features. like, drag your fingers over his cheekbones, his brow, his jaw — just looking at him like he’s something sacred. he leans into your palm every time.

dex absolutely gets flustered when you praise him in front of people. casual stuff — “he’s so good at that,” or “he takes care of me better than anyone ever has.”

he loves being watched. like when he’s doing something totally mundane — loading a gun, brushing his teeth, pacing — and he notices you looking at him like you’re obsessed. it short-circuits him a little. he tries to act normal, but it makes his skin burn in a good way.

once got really quiet after you hugged him from behind and just held him there. no words. no tension. just arms around his waist, your cheek against his back.

when he’s being moody or short, you don’t fight back. you just cup his jaw, tilt his face toward yours, and say “talk to me.” it undoes him completely. you never use that voice unless you’re pulling the hurt out of him like a splinter.

he is always waiting to be “too much” for you. too cold. too quiet. too angry.

he can always tell when you’re spiraling in your head, even if you don’t say a word. maybe you’re fidgeting with your hands, chewing your lip, or just not making eye contact. he’ll pull you into his space, drape a heavy arm around your shoulders, and rest his head on top of yours. you don’t need to explain; he already knows. sometimes, he’ll just leave a kiss on your temple and wait, and that’s all it takes for you to calm down a little.

when you’re feeling overwhelmed in public, maybe at a party or in a crowded place, his first instinct is to reach for your hand, fingers squeezing just enough to pull you back to him. the simple pressure of his hand is enough to remind you that no matter how loud the world is, he’s here, and he won’t let you go.

when you’re on the verge of a panic attack he instantly knows. his reaction is immediate, he doesn’t try to talk you down with logic (because he knows that doesn’t work), instead, he pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly, keeping you in his chest until you’re calm. when it’s over, he doesn’t leave you, even for a second. he’ll make sure you feel safe.

sometimes, when your abandonment issues hit, you get scared of being left alone — whether it’s him going out or just being in a different room. dex, noticing this, will make sure to be around you constantly, but in a way that doesn’t overwhelm you. if he has to leave for a bit, he’ll casually say, “i’m going to grab coffee. wanna come?” or, if you’re staying in, he’ll just hang out in the same space as you, whether it’s in the living room or the kitchen.

started 4.27.2025. finished 4.27.2025.

( masterlist. )

©️ monicfever 2025

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mangaloversolar2000 · 3 days ago

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Enemies to Lovers or Red Flags in Pastels? — A Critical Look at Lumity’s Foundations

Lumity is iconic. It gave us one of the first queer WLW couples in Western animation with actual screen time. But sometimes, people forget that just being queer doesn’t make a relationship automatically healthy—or narratively sound. And when you actually look at the foundation of Lumity, it’s kind of… full of red flags that get painted over in soft lighting and cute banter. (Not hating on Lumity btw, this is completely opinion based with reasons why Lumity seems kinda...complicated in my eyes.)

1. Amity Didn’t Bully Luz—But She Did Try to Get Her Dissected

Yeah. Let’s not sugarcoat that one.

In Season 1, Amity literally tries to have Luz dissected by Principal Bump. All because Luz embarrassed her in front of her Abomination class. That’s not petty teen drama—that’s dangerous.

Sure, it’s played for laughs, but if the roles were reversed, people would be furious. This moment is brushed aside because Luz is so endlessly forgiving and the tone is whimsical. But realistically? That’s not just “tsundere behavior.” That’s genuinely disturbing.

2. Amity Bullied Willow for Years and Never Properly Apologized

Let’s talk about Willow. Sweet, awkward Willow who was Amity’s best friend until Amity cut her off to climb the social ladder (with pressure from her parents but still...). Amity not only abandoned her, she actively bullied her. (though for some reason it seemed like this retconned even though in one of the first episodes we see Amity bully Willow) She let Boscha and the others mock Willow constantly while standing by—or even participating.

Later in the show, the story implies that Amity feels guilty and is trying to reconnect. But the apology scene? It never happens. She gives a vague “I wasn’t strong back then,” and we move on.

Meanwhile, Willow is just… okay with it. Like years of emotional damage can be patched over because Amity looks sad. It’s not fair to Willow, and it reflects a pattern in the show where Amity’s emotional arcs are prioritized over the pain she caused others.

3. Luz Never Challenges This Behavior

This is where it gets extra complicated.

Luz, bless her, is a people-pleaser. She just wants friends and adventure and sparkly magic. But that also means she never actually calls Amity out—not for bullying Willow, not for trying to get her dissected, not for anything. She just rolls with it.

Luz’s entire relationship with Amity is built on her always giving grace, always understanding, and never asking for real accountability. In a way, that makes their romance feel unbalanced. Amity gets the space to grow and cry and be soft. Luz? Luz becomes a side character in her own emotional arc.

4. Trauma Bonding Is Not a Love Story

Another point worth mentioning: a lot of Lumity’s deeper moments come from shared trauma. Whether it’s dealing with their families, Belos, or the Collector, they get closer through chaos. But trauma bonding isn’t inherently romantic—it’s survival. And the show leans on it to create intimacy, instead of giving us scenes where they talk about what they want, what they need, or what they like outside of danger.

What do they have in common, really? Aside from magic and angst? The relationship often feels more like a narrative reward than a fully developed emotional connection.

Conclusion: Cute, Important, but Narratively Messy

Look—Lumity matters. It opened doors. It showed queer girls being brave and awkward and in love. But that doesn’t mean we can’t critique how messy it is under the surface.

Amity hurt people. Luz never processes it. Willow gets sidelined. And somehow, it’s all swept under the rug for the sake of a shippable couple. Queer rep shouldn’t mean excusing harmful behavior just because it’s pastel-coded and soft-spoken.

We deserve better storytelling, not just representation.

tbh I kinda prefered Willuz but I don't hate Lumity, I'm fine with the ship but I felt like it was rushed and could have been better developed.

#the owl house #toh #the owl house critical #the owl house critical critical #the owl house criticism #toh critical #toh critical critical #toh criticism #amity blight #lumity #personal opinion #willuz

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serpentine-sweetheart · 2 years ago

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I think that's why I like people being mean to me tbh. I forget what emotion feels like a lot and that makes me remember it a little

#♥hitogawari♥#I hate dissociation #I have to constantly be feeling and if I'm not I forget how to #I need other people to help me through literally everything #what am I supposed to feel. what am I supposed to do.#like. I can't form my own thoughts tbh so I'll probably do whatever people want from me because I can't think about it

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spaceratprodigy · 1 year ago

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🎉✨💙💖 Maril and Mina 💖💙✨🎉

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @fairymistrose !! ily ily ily 💕

Commission Info | Ko-Fi | My Links

#happy birthday to one of my dearest and bestest friends ever!!#gosh tasha the past how many years now you have truly been one of the greatest lights of my life #I don't think I can ever put into words just how grateful I am to have met you #nor can I thank you enough for the kindness and care you show me constantly #you are so wonderful and special and your friendship has been so deeply impactful #never forget how loved and cherished you are #lemme not get too mushy gushy haha not like I'm not telling you constantly what I feel in my heart for you and everything you do #I love ya. I hope you're able to have a really special day #I'm so honored I get to celebrate another year with ya #and with our favorite cotton candy girlies no less!! >:3 #💖💙✨🎉💖💙✨🎉#my art #maril highwind #friend oc #kingdom hearts

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iamnotlookingidonotseeit · 3 months ago

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fascinating revelations out of my dad's professional coaching of the whole family today

my mom scored astonishingly high on empathy and caring for a woman who seemed to find it next to impossible to express that to me

my dad has done an insane amount of work to be so warm and personable considering that his natural inclination is towards strong reserve rooted in anxiety (just like me!!)

my sister shocked - SHOCKED 🙄 - to learn that she scores almost zero in empathy AND very high on manipulation

actually shocking reveal that my sister always knew she was my mom's favorite. like I kind of assumed she was mean to both of us but apparently most of the biting comments were for me

#in regard to number 3 I'm like bestie. you think you're the protagonist of the world. you tried to get me to come out to our parents #as a way to manipulate them into being happier for you for your engagement #you have a movie script in mind for your life and you try to get others to fit it #of COURSE you're low in empathy and high in manipulation #the mom's favorite thing was actually very surprising to me to hear bc i've never thought about it that way #mom's attitude towards me was so pervasive to my experience of childhood that i never considered that i had it worse than her #vis a vis getting chewed out and in trouble and snapped at and criticized constantly #the impression i got was that mom thought i was a crybaby and fragile and forgetful and dowdy and needy #my sister by contrast was the kind of girlboss my mom could like more easily #(i do wonder then that mom's bestie is a lot like me)#i know my sister got some Mom Comments and impatience and fighting too but it doesn't seem to have stuck with her so much #i dunno how i feel about it all #a lot and i mean A Lot to consider #also learned my sister doesn't really remember our grandma on mom's side and picked up a vibe that she's sad about it #i was a little dismissive in the moment of the idea that she was doting bc i remember her being very brisk and exacting #but i think like my mom she cared a lot but found it hard to express it in ways that weren't like. providing. keeping things shipshape #not very demonstrative and pretty intimidating to a kid #but i still do remember a few good things about her; note to self to tell T those stories #looking at cardinals on the deck. the roofing project. her painting my sister's nails. watching lion king and the old cinderella with us #good moments #it makes me think of the way mom used to really put care into giving us thoughtful gifts but she'd hardly ever play with them with us #i think it would have gone a long way with me at that age if she'd been willing to take the initiative rather than wait to be invited #i always thought that she knew so much and what she could do was so cool; i just never felt comfortable asking #bc she didn't seem like you could just ask her to come have fun #meanwhile my dad Knew a lot less stuff and had fewer cool hobbies but he was goofy and fun and willing to get on the floor #i think i understand why they were the way they were but still im frustrated #bc like t was saying today. now that mom's retired she's actually fun?? she's not stressed and angry all the time and she has time for us?#or at least for my sister anyway... but i will agree; she seems a lot happier #and i wish she'd been able to be happier when we were younger #neither me nor my sister came out of that with anything close to secure attachment

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choking-on-roses · 3 months ago

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The amount of times you'll be relating an experience you had with ADHD and all the neurotypicals in a 5km radius are like "actually that has nothing to do with ADHD" like yeah I realize everyone forgets things from time to time but could you please shut up

#I'm so tired of it #ADHD is forgetting things constantly all the time to the point where it negatively impacts your daily life #Stop saying 'oh everyone forgets stuff it's normal. Make a list'#You cannot understand how it feels to have ADHD. Stop it #Shut up and listen #Anyway I keep seeing it on video comments lately #Someone will say 'lol as someone with ADHD I really relate to [thing that happened in the video]'#And there's always ALWAYS a fucking response shutting them down saying 'this has nothing to do with ADHD'#I think because people think they can relate because they have forgotten things before they assume ADHD isn't a real disability #They assume it isn't a devastating problem that can be difficult to manage #Idek why I'm ranting. I just feel so invalidated. Nobody is fucking listening to me when I talk about my difficulties with ADHD. I'm tired #It's like a trendy quirky personality trait to neurotypicals isn't it

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nururu · 2 years ago

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the amount of times I've been (rudely) made fun of for using 3in1 makes me so mad every time I think about it.... bc like........ predatory capitalism will get you around every corner. I can't just be myself and be happy about it. tv, books, ads, family, friends, etc. everywhere you go. everyone's been brainwashed into thinking buying stuff and doing what rich ppl say makes you better. like idk I'm sorry but I TRULY do not care about materialism or looks. attractiveness to me, comes from confidence and a kind personality. it has nothing to do with how anyone looks, or what they buy and have. doing stuff to make YOURSELF happy is amazing. doing stuff to make a point to others that you're better than them.... idk man... seems like a waste of time trying to fill a pot that has a leak and could fully break at any time.

#listen #if you make fun of me in earnest #i will never forget it and i will think about it every time im reminded of it #like when I'm showering for example lol #im constantly worried theres something wrong with me #and that everything i do wrong could be The Thing #and i hyper criticize myself and remember everyones critiques of me #but all it does is make me feel so bad #like man idk.... im poor #i buy 3in1 bc i have great skin always have it smells good its cheap and it works for me #i want to stop feeling like im being bullied into having to change everything about myself #none of that stuff is truly fun to me bc no one does it for fun #everyone does it to feel better than other ppl and to compete and thats so exhausting to me #all the joy is sapped out of all hobbies once its made into a mean spirited competition For Me Personally #i could go on a whole other tangent about cosplay culture as well #and how ill just stop cosplaying if ppl keep taking the fun out it #its not about looking amazing and the best #its about having fun #the culture makes it so sad and miserable and unwelcome for poor/amateur cosplayers #or literally just ppl cosplaying for fun.....#tiktok cosplayers have been going off about this recently and i hope they rlly create a change in the community bc its too much #anyways back to ghe original point #i love joking around but making fun of me in a serious manner...... truly just sticks with me

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trans-leek-cookie · 2 months ago

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consistently thinking "man idk why I have so much trouble giving a shit about my social life to the point I'm probably super isolated but just genuinely can't bring myself to give a shit, like this seems like it'd be a reaction to some sort of trauma but there's like a Single Thing that I can think of that I consider in the realm of Meaningfully Traumatic (not in terms of like "real trauma" but in terms of "what would have lasting, identifiable influence on me after over a decade after it happened") to but that doesn't even seem like it would be connected" and then I realize said Single Thing was a result of not having/being taught how to set and enforce my own boundaries (let alone how to properly identify/ask about/respect others boundaries) as a kid and interacting with other kids who were similarly inexperienced in boundaries and exposed to age inappropriate materials and like. Hm maybe my disinterest in social stuff is connected to the fact I have trouble staring and then enforcing my own boundaries in general and I would rather Not Talk To People than have to stand up for myself (even if the person respects my boundaries I hate the experience because it never feels like it gets easier or less terrifying) and when comparing isolation that might be melting my brain to the ordeal of confrontation that no matter the result makes me feel like I want to die the isolation seems almost enjoyable by comparison

#I can't stress enough that no matter how well things go I'm constantly on fucking edge and never want to set a boundary ever again #Also it's genuinely one of those things where like. Yeah my coping mechanism (isolation and assuming people will inevitably disappoint me #Causing me to put very little effort/trust into creating new meaningful relationships beyond basic courtesy) is uhhh perhaps Fucked #But. Like. I've set boundaries I've trained and practiced to be better about confrontation for my own sake and others #It never feels worth it lol. Like short term it feels like shit long term my memory is so shit that I could not identify any benefits #Bc I forget the things I've done so it's always just like. ''remeber the last time I set boundaries? Yeah the other persons response was #Positive and productive I guess but all I felt was the desire to never engage in a social interaction ever again for unclear reasons''#And like. Comparing the Slow Poison of Isolation to the Immediate Intense and Completely Irrational Anxiety/Distress of Social Interaction #That SEEMS TO NOT HAVE IMPROVED/ABATED LIKE. AT ALL. it's just like ''damn! This sucks! I don't think I'm ever going to meaningully #Fix this bc the work I have done in the past seems uhhhh completely fucking inconsequential so. Idk what to do Abt that''#Like I'll still try to be better at communicating but it's genuinely like. Man idk if I'm ever going to be less fuckin distressed by it #Bc even if I kinda know the root of it it's SO irrational that like. Evidence to the contrary doesn't fucking work #Eaghhhhhhhrhhhhhh

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blackvahana · 8 months ago

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Just coming back to chirp about getting the mask face back. It's been a staple in my astral and mental bodies for years, I just. how the fuck do I word that. Its been in the dark, I've known about it because I've been drawing myself with it for years and so many of my sonas and OCs, représentations of part of me, have it... But I've never consciously really seen myself with it. The only reason I know is because the astral body Knows it biologically.

Anyway. There was this character in SU wayyy back when that had this mouth under their face and yeah. no that's. yeah. I... I don't know how to talk about this other than this mask face, mouth underneath, is just me. Or variations on that, not saying it's the main form with variations but saying that like..... well. have form art that was channelled from when I had no idea I was awake in the astral

2015. Man. anyway. Variations of either a face within a beaked mouth, which continued into the main depictions of self as the crow pelt, or there were the mask faces with hidden mouths, or there were sonas with floating masks like... Tempest, who is a really just draconic self sona

Have a chibi Tempest (original design) for funsies lmfao

But yeah. I'm... sitting in the astral with that face again and I remember. I remember astral memories I hadn't unlocked up until this point, or.. I almost want to say I Know when I'm like this, because this is me. I'm always, as an incarnation and not as my unincarnated selves, going to be in a human body with a human brain, but humanity is an oil spill mask over the puddle that I am. I am never going to truly be something that fits in here, I am always going to be a distorted image of a human, and that's so, so comforting in the way not of soothing emotions but feeling like im looking in a mirror and seeing myself. This face is not human, it just looks it, this body is jot human, there's just... it's not even about humanity, what's about humanity is the fact I've been stifling this form because I'm so tired of having to exist in this part of the universe with human extensions and bodies as I've said before because its the same goddamn experience as being trans, I look at a body that feels like it's something else's body because it's got features I don't understand and - I don't need to explain it. Most people around me know what being trans is like. I'm tired of hearing "but you're biologically human" in the way I'm tired of hearing "but you're biologically female", I am aware of what my body is, I'm tired of being defined by it

But anyway. I'm sitting here, and I can see my hands more vividly. I can feel the lower sky outside swirling in night colours, a Starry Night type whirlpool of splotches of scents and sky-spirit-pheremones and blinking eyes of local nature. And my face is... It's just a head. existing. underneath it's jaw tonight I have a hooked black beak, which I know will morph and change into something else but... Black feathers. Black feathers, always, blanketed and obscured, and surreal. I can exist, I am existing

#~abyssal murmurs #Astral body //#Honestly this is just... such a staple for so many OCs I create - I really struggle to create characters without mask like or #mask inspired faces because that just feels how faces are Supposed to be #Because I'm constantly arising in my own art and my own expressions hoping I'll be recognised #There's a lot. a lot. behind the years of not knowing I was in the astral. There's... there's a lot. Trauma of course fron #from* the brothers dragging me over there but also just... I've existed over here for almost three decades now. I've seen so much.#I've watched people. I've known things about them on the spiritual end. I've seen things happen. I've mapped out details #of the land that I've had no idea about. I have... and this isn't necessarily a trauma thing but. the mask face has no #mouth. I have not been able to speak for almost three decades and I don't really want to... But it's complicated having been here #watching. waiting. absorbing. /seeing/. And the other forms don't know/I forget in other forms and also physical body has had #no idea. I have been silently watching and dissecting and witnessing the world for so long unable to say anything. I'm #à silent mime who moves as much as a deer in the headlights. I've watched births. I've heard plans spilled.#I... Yeah. I'm. yeah. Anyway

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homochihuahua · 9 months ago

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Was feeling good and now I'm not :)

#the thing is it take so much of me to repress how i'm feeling #so when you come to me reminding me of those thing i instantly slip and lose control #i have a problem that i need to solve but i'm just letting it sit on the only shelf in my mind #can't even leave it there and forget about it #that shit is constantly in front of me literally

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inkskinned · 5 months ago

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you want them to text back but that's anxious attachment isn't it. it's just that you can feel on the wind when you're not wanted anymore. when they've fallen out of love in any small part of their marrow. you have a hawk's eye for disharmony. you can tell when she has begun packing her things.

don't be annoying. you want to write: i have never experienced unconditional love as an explanation but isn't that pathetic. in adulthood all love is conditional and it should be. you've been to too much therapy. touch grass. how sappy can you be.

but they don't reach for your hand while they're driving. they forget to ask you how you're doing. the call times no longer read 12:34:19. they're 30 minutes and perfunctory before she says baby please, i'm tired. i need to go to sleep. where in her life do you fit. why is it that you never fit into anyone's life very long. oblong creature with so many needs, spilling up and out and over everything. it's a fucking shame the first time she said she loved you it was for your independence. and now look at you.

hollow pit in your stomach, body shaking. fuck, not again. you're not going to ruin another relationship like this, codependent and toxic, spiraling. and in the other half of your brain: if that's your wife, wouldn't she want to hear it? wouldn't it be fine? wouldn't she just comfort you and you can both move on and nobody dies?

but you're crowding her! read another instagram Positive Vibes Only type of post that talks about calming your heart and your brain and your body. try to sit in silence. the thing is that you do have a life outside of her, remember? go back to it.

great news, your parents fucked you up and now you have no idea how to deal with love. you just keep wanting to be chosen. to be real to someone, all the way through. real and kept. held closely. seen as precious to somebody. why even is that? didn't you always swear that people can and should complete themselves? why are you so constantly driven to beg for love, doglike and barking?

it's just the tiny things. it's just that you have to weigh every silence and sentence like bricks on an exposed belly. you have no idea how to shut it off. every alarm bell in your body saying: this isn't safe. start scrambling. she's already going.

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHGGGGGGGGGGGGGH I HATE LIVING IN THIS SHIT OF A BODY!!!!!!!!#anxious attachment #is such an UTTER BITCH~!!!!!!!!#AND THE THING IS THAT EVERYONE IS LIKE ''JUST HEAL FROM IT''#AND IM LIKE. BITCH I HAVE BEEN TRYING. I DID A LOT OF IT. I STILL HAVE LIKE. MENTAL #FUCKIN #ILLNESS #im so much better now. but i have days :'( and like .... the grief is bringing out the worst in me #im trying but it's all just like ....... bad in there

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nochepsicodelica · 4 months ago

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NSFW

"Don't forget how badly you said you wanted this when it gets to be too much, 'kay, mama?"

A warning that you paid no mind to and instead giggled at, because Toji kissed your knuckles and your forehead when he finished binding your wrists together. You thought he wouldn't be too hard on you, and even if he was, you have a trick up your sleeve. You know that if you beg hard enough with shimmering eyes, he becomes a little more lenient. He eases up on you and gentleness starts to seep into his actions.

Well, that didn't work. Not this time. This time, he wanted to give you everything you asked for and more.

"Fuck..." Toji groans. "Look at that, ma." He displays his cum soaked, glistening fingers and shows you an update on the juices that have made their way down his wrist. "Come on, open your eyes and look," he says, patting your thigh.

Your bottom lip quivers and your eyes flutter open, your dim, weary gaze darting to the face of the man inflicting all these varying sensations your body is feeling.

"Not at my mug. Look at my hand and my forearm," Toji instructs, trying hard not to smirk at how utterly debauched you look. You look like you're going to cry, again. "Messy girl, you did that."

You mumble something quiet and unintelligible, and like a shark, Toji devours your pathetic attempt to speak. "Louder. I know you can be louder, or do you need some encouragement?" He asks, ghosting the knuckle of his index finger along your slit, resulting in your body full on jolting.

"Sorry!" You cry out, loud enough to have Toji laughing at your frantic repetition. "I said-- said i'm sorry," you stutter out, your voice unsteady.

You're ruined, yet somehow, this is a sight that has Toji's heart racing, like he's falling in love with you for the millionth time. It puts him through a conflict. It makes him want to be nice to you, it also makes him want to add on to your ruin, but more than anything, it sadistically makes him want to see you cry, again.

"Don't be sorry. This is what you wanted, right?" Toji groans, quietly, as he lies back down on his stomach, eyes focusing on your glistening cunt, again. "Wanted me to make you cry from the intensity of it all? Said you could handle being overstimulated, didn't you, ma?" His thumb drags up your slit, slow enough to have your inner thighs trembling as he makes his way up towards your overly sensitive clit. "Stay there," he commands, when you squirm the slightest bit away from him. He goes again, this time, dragging the pads of his index and middle fingers through your slicked folds.

"T-Toji," you whimper, your abdomen clenching and quivering with every one of his touches. "Toji, I--" you gasp, feeling the warmth of his tongue dragging through your folds and when you feel his fingers grazing your entrance, you can't help but whimper in anticipation for what's to come.

"Why are you shaking?" Toji asks, looking up at you, condescendingly. You can't scramble quickly enough to respond, before he's feeding his fingers into your drooling cunt. "Wanna cum?" He asks, taking in the sight of your returning tears with a menacing smirk. You don't know what to say, because on one hand, you get another orgasm, but on the other hand, you know you are going to be pushed past pleasure. "Yeahhh, you do. Look at that pretty face. Gonna make you cum so hard," he purrs, curling his fingers inside of you.

You don't know if you'll make it out of this one. You feel like you're being launched into heaven every time he makes you cum with his fingers and his mouth, but it's an immediate, full speed plummet to hell when he keeps going—keeps rubbing your clit while you spasm and practically choke on your breaths.

"Right there?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in the sounds of your moans. They're higher in pitch, quicker, and constantly interrupted by your sharp gasps. "Oh fuck," he growls. "That's it, huh?"

"I-I'm--" you whimper, "--fuck, fuck." Your chest heaves, your back slightly arching off the bed. "Toji," you call, frenzied by the overwhelming sensations. "I'm gonna die..." you blurt. "G-Gonna die," you cry out, tears spilling down the corners of your eyes and treading down your cheeks.

Toji watches, amusedly, as you struggle to figure out what to do while he keeps building you up. The mobility of your hands is limited due to your wrists being bound together, but your palms are dented by your nails to all hell. You barely have control of your legs, because even though they aren't restrained, Toji handles them however he needs to in order to give you what you asked for without you trying to stop him.

"You're fine. You can take it," he says, over the lewd, squelching sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you. "Last one, and you're giving me ten seconds."

"N-No!"

"Yes," he insists. "It's the last one, gotta make it a-"

It's unexpected, the wet mess you make all over Toji's hand, your thighs, and the sheets. You feel like your whole body is buzzing and your toes are curled so tightly that your feet are starting to hurt from the strain.

The countdown starts the second you start squirming and pressing your hips into the mattress. Toji's arms are hooked around your thighs, holding them open and still so he can use his mouth on you for all ten of those seconds and make a mess out of your overstimulated cunt. His lips are latched around your clit, one of his fingers pumping in and out of you, while you shake and pathetically sob from the borderline painful amount of stimulation. The skin of your palms must be broken by now from how hard you've been digging into them.

"Toj--" you barely manage, before your chest is heaving and racking out another sob.

The ten seconds are up, and Toji immediately eases off of you, releasing your visibly trembling legs so that you can move as you please. He crawls up the bed and sits beside you, quickly undoing the binding of your wrists and tossing the strip away.

"I know... I know, doll," Toji coos, wiping at your tear streaked cheeks. He doesn't instantly scoop you up into his arms, because you not wanting to be touched is definitely a possibility. He just sits there, by your side, and attempts to verbally soothe you while you work to compose yourself. "Just breathe, mama. It's all done. You're gonna be okay."

Once your breathing is more calm and you're not so rattled, he works his way up to touching you, starting with your shaky hands and the crescent shapes that litter your palms. He carefully runs his thumbs over the little marks, monitoring your reaction to make sure he isn't hurting you. He brings your hands up to his lips and kisses your knuckles, moving along each of your fingers and ending where his focus is needed most—your palms.

"You good, ma?" Toji asks, lying down on his side, facing you. He's still not pulling you into his arms, but one of his legs is pressed against yours, just to have some sort of physical contact with you.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you say, offering a soft smile. "It was just..." you hum, thinking.

"Intense?" Toji cuts in, to which you nod. "But I didn't hurt you too bad? You're alright?"

"Yes, baby," you assure. "I would've used my safe word if it was too much for me to handle. We touched on that before we started this, remember?" Your hand goes to cup his cheek, but he intercepts it by grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand up to his lips, again.

"Don't be scared to use that word, ma. Don't ever push your boundaries for me, alright? I don't give a fuck if i'm about to bust. If you're not feeling it, we're gonna stop, okay? The last thing I wanna do is to traumatize you."

"Jesus fuck, you're so sexy," you murmur, curling up into him. Your hand splays over his abdomen and rubs slowly, a simple gesture that makes his cock start throbbing and twitching in his sweats, the longer you do it. "Yes, Toji. I won't ever hesitate," you assure, your words promised, physically, through a kiss. The feeling of your lips against his, only further fuels his arousal. You can feel the way he impatiently kisses you back, like he's trying to inhale you. The way he grips your hip and pulls you so that your body is pressed against him, further communicates his need for more of you.

"I'll be so gentle with you, doll," he mumbles, into your neck, pressing kisses to it, afterwards. "Please? Let me treat you right, this time."

You giggle as he continues murmuring quiet little pleas into your neck, through kisses.

"I wanted you to do it, baby, but alright, treat me your way. The right way."

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mrchoppedslefthand · 6 months ago

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Homicipher Random Headcanons/Scenarios [NSFW]

Edit:11/07/2024

I desperately needed to post the random head canons and scenarios of our husbands that my brain kept cooking up (+ some from discord friends), so the list is not organized. Also, since we shape shift, I'm going to assume we can choose whenever we have a cock or pussy (because I want to be fucked and do the fucking) Anyways...enjoy the food thought.

Characters: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Chopped Mr. Silvair, Mr. Hood, Mr. Gap, Mr. Machete, Mr. Scarletella

Warnings: mentions of NSFW, mentions of some canon-typical violence, implications of dubcon, mentions of somnophilia, implied cuckold

Mr. Crawling

He can be submissive top. Constantly asking you if you love him during intimacy. He would ask if you enjoy playing with him as you pound yourself onto him. He would be a moaning mess and probably wouldn't know what to do about it as he clumsily places his hands around your waist.

He would definitely eat you out without you asking once intimacy had been initiated.

Afraid of hurting you, he wouldn't be too rough, instead he would be more tender and gentler when it comes to intimacy.

He definitely would love it when you play with his hair, allowing you to braid it or do whatever as long it doesn't involve cutting his precious hair.

He actually gets jealous easily, but he doesn't verbalize it, instead he shows it through his actions.

He is better with his hands, than his cock. So sometimes you prefer that over his cock. His cock is more on the average/smaller side and it's cute.

He definitely has a praise kink.

Mr. Chopped

He lacks a body, so to make up for it he is extremely expressive and open with his feelings. Which makes him a little fun to bully, to see all those cute expressions he could make.

He probably would be very good with his mouth and tongue, let him be your personal rose toy/fleshlight if you will. He can't fight back and have no choice but to whimper about it.

Imagine getting sick and fainting with him nearby, he can't move or do anything but helplessly cry for you to wake up and starts crying out help for Mr. Silvair to come help him and you.

Maybe one day, for a day of tricks and pranks. Mr. Stitch will allow Mr. Chopped a day in his body, so they swap places, stitching Mr. Chopped in place of Mr. Stitch's head. It had been a very long time since Mr. Chopped felt sensations beyond his head, so he happens to be very sensitive and clumsy with his hands. Everywhere you touch overwhelms him, he melts and becomes a moaning mess, but Mr. Chopped isn't the only one feeling all these sensations. Mr. Stitch can still feel it too. He is intrigued by today's type of play.

He definitely would be more on the whiny and needy side when it comes to pleasure, he lacks a body, but he can still feel lust. He can't do anything about it, which makes him extremely needy and extra pouty.

Mr. Silvair

Definitely would have had intimacy with other ghosts/humans before to research the body and performance during mid transformation if it differed.

Imagine one day he finds a mysterious liquid that fell from the 'other world' and feeds it to you, himself and the other ghosts in your crew. Only to find out it was an aphrodisiac. It was the first time he felt such a strong sensation of lust. At first, he mistakes this strong desire to be violence, so he starts to self-inflict wounds onto himself. You attempt to stop him, but soon find yourself to be underneath him as he bites into your neck, drawing blood. Surprised at seeing the often-composed man, turning into a ravage beast. You somehow manage to find something to tie him up and have your way with him.

He probably likes overstimulation on you...but also himself. He would love to research on how much his body can go and handle.

He would actually be a switch, for research purposes. To take and give he'd do anything for research. It had been long long ago since his body used to be human, and he often forgets about his own experiences if he doesn't write them down, but no worries, he has you by his side now to keep remembering.

Mr. Hood

He is quiet but speaks whenever he finds it suited for. But if you need him, he would be happy to talk with you.

He is a bit insecure about his body, he doesn't have arms or hands or even legs, he is an entity of nothing. The clothes are what shape his form, and well maybe he not entirely a entity of nothing. You had a glimpse before, a small glimpse and sensation of a squishy and somewhat slimy part that had belonged to him. You never mentioned though, but if it was you'd love him still anyways.

He realized that some words had been a bit harder for you to keep in mind and remember and so he thought of a special way to get you learning. Learning with what humans call pleasure. He fucks you and asks you what certain things are, and if you get it wrong, he denies you from coming. You have become determined to learn your words properly even more so now. Because if you remember you get rewarded with the most absolute fulfilling fuck of your life.

Since most of his body is invisible or nothing. If you mouth fucked him you would be able to see that real good, it is strangely erotic watching your cock move inside his mouth.

Mr. Gap

When you're sleeping, sometimes he might just cuddle against your leg or lower half. He loves the feeling of warmth, compared to his hollow darkness.

He definitely seems like the type of person to eat you out while you're asleep. Playing around and waiting for you to wake up to watch your reaction. Of course, he would only do this though if he knew you'd allow it. He values consent.

Imagine taking your backpack to school and you have to take out a pencil for a test. When you open your backpack, you realize it is just an empty void and hear a voice asking for your heart in exchange for the pencil. Yeah... you accepted your fate. You just failed your exam...

When you become a moaning mess under him, he can't understand but he knows that from your sweet voice, and moans, that it's a good thing. He knows to keep continuing.

One day Mr. Gap gathers his usual newspapers that fall from the rubble or somehow manages to grab one from the human realm. He notices a magazine that discusses about marriage and giving rings on the fourth finger. Intrigued about this idea, he asks you for your all four of your fingers, but you misunderstand and refuse to give him your fingers. He's sad but soon you later find out that he was asking for your hand in marriage, literally but also figuratively.

Mr. Machete

We would wonder aimlessly for an eternity together searching for his/your home. But eventually our subconscious would recognize each other as home instead.

He would definitely mock and laugh at how fast you would falter/melt under his touch. Calling you "weak" for coming so fast but would give kisses here and there after the mocking.

He'd probably be into throat fucking and laugh at you looking pathetic, he loves reactions that aren't boring, so seeing you choke on his cock seems like a great idea.

He definitely would come inside most of the time.

When he fucks you, his cock would probably bulge out a little from your stomach, fascinated by it he'd roughly press his hand down near that area.

He is our beefy dumb macho, perfect.

If you mouth/fucked him he would tell you he feels nothing, but his eyes would already be red and tearing. He's a pathetic coward.

Mr. Scarletella

He belongs to you, and you belong to him, together forever, in a hellish world. He loves the destruction you bring into his life and does the same for you.

Oh boy, he would absolutely devour you, his queen, in pleasure. Fuck you stupid to the point you're just a blabbering mess, hands on waist, and long fingers in your mouth, as he pounds deeply into you.

He seems like the type of guy to fuck you during your period.

Definitely gets jealous easily and he makes it know when he gets that way.

Imagine your fucked/fucking another ghost and you hear static within the distance, the sound slowly starts to come closer and closer until you hear the static in the room. Your crimson servant arrives and witnesses your fantastic display of intimacy. Jealous, he kills them and becomes extra possessive and quite terrifying, but you love it so much. How he seems so lost and pathetic without you.

You don't know his name, but neither does he know yours. Despite this disconnect, you still manage to give him some sort of other named to be called. It's connected to your name, but he knows it's not all of it, he can't fully whisk you away, but he's okay with that. You are still bound to him for an eternity anyway.

If Mr. Scarletella went back to the human world with you instead, he would appear to be the one most suited for fitting in. Just slack some foundation on his face, make him wear gloves and he would blend in quite well. Well...except for his odd habit of asking every stranger for their name and laughing and giggling crazily each time.

He would have a praise and degradation kink, he's not a whore. He's YOUR whore. He likes being YOURS.

#文字化化 #homicipher #homicipher headcanons #headcanon #my headcanons #mozibake #mojibake #horror games #horror vn #visual novel #mr crawling #mr chopped #mr chopped head #silvair #mr silvair #mr gap #mr machete #mr scarletella #mr hood

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