#been making work really really well and i'm very pleased

[cursedcola]

Prompt: YOU ARE LIKE PAPA!!!! Aka. I'm seeing a trend. The boys are all literal carbon copies of their mommas (or one parent) at this point - so how do they feel having a child that’s THEIR spitting image? In which your genes didn’t even try. Physically...and personality. Masterlist: LinkedUP Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: House-Wardens Format: Headcannons+ imagine (Yes, I know I said I wouldn't be doing bullets anymore...but one more? It's mixed. Can't just cold turkey a gal) A/N: Do I want to make this a series?...I do not know. Maybe? It's really hard to write without the kids having names - and I'm just here like...can I use the names I want? I already made them up in a past post. Would that ruin the experience for people? I mean - it's my stuff and I can do what I want but hmmm.... Warning(?): For this to be, MC's the one who popped the kid out and has reproductive ability to house spawn. Kiddos are biological. Talk of pregnancy and general child-rearing. Use of mother and she/her pronouns to make my life a bit easier.

Riddle couldn't care if his child looked like him down to the last freckle on is butt. What mattered most in that delivery room was that the child came out healthy with no complications. He's the father that doesn't shy away from asking the doctor + midwives questions - perhaps too many, since you nearly toss him out of the delivery room for causing unneeded distress.

In all honesty? Had he studied medicine like his mother pushed - Riddle would've been the one delivering his own child. He copes with stress through control - so imagine THAT scenario.

After birth, he cares much more for the child's skills and manners rather than their appearance. Do they wash their hands before every meal? Say their please and thank you? Do they trust him enough to state their opinions - respectfully, not a potty mouth.

Riddle can and will make them lick a bar of soap if they utter a curse word before the age of 15.

How's their academic drive? Are they social? It's very important that they get along well with others from an early age. He wants them to have many friends.

He's so focused on their personality - aiming to raise a happy, confident, healthy child - that Riddle takes compliments on their physical attributes with a grain of salt until his hard work all those years child-rearing amass into... well, a second less intense version of himself.

He's adamant to ensure the child's homelife is better than what he had growing up. In a way, he misses much while worrying about other things. 10/10 an anxious father, but very doting despite being strict.

"Must I paint a heart on my cheek every day? Why not a crown, or something more fitting us? Like a rose?" his daughter huffed, yet went to paint a large red heart over her cheekbone regardless.

Just like her father, she'd received her invitation to Night Raven. The girl was expecting it, her certainty fueled by perfect grades and a strong aptitude for magic. She did not lack confidence.

Just like her father, she was assured to land in Heartslabyul. Already prepping her cheek-mark before the mirror made any verdict.

Just like her father, she aimed for the position of Housewarden before setting a single foot on campus.

Yet unlike her father, she held no issues in speaking her grievances. She bemoaned about packing, groveled at her mother's feet for her favorite biscuits before living off cafeteria meals, and surely had no reservations stealing Riddle's best fountain pen for her studies.

She keenly resembled a certain ginger that still calls the Rosehearts' household every day despite getting blue-screened by the answering machine.

That’s the last time Riddle allows you to chose the godfather of his child. Ace is an insufferable influence without that power to toss around.

Riddle sighed, plucking the brush from her fingers and pinning her V-shaped bangs back to examine her uniform. He flattens her lapels and redoes her necktie.

His necktie. Gods he’s raised a little thief.

For a moment, as he loops the tie-knot, he's a young boy calling the girl's mother over each morning to straighten her uniform. It's nostalgic, especially with how his daughter squirms under his appraisal.

Definetly her mother’s daughter, he thinks.

It is then that Riddle sees himself through her wide eyes - they're the same greyish blue that were hardened on his first day. His daughter's are much kinder, he notes. She'll easily find companions to eat her meals with.

Her cheeks are full with sweetness- his were too, but by genetic design rather than an extra treat here and there. To this day his baby-face lingers.

Her cheeks were 100% rounded with uncle Trey's spoiling. Not that Riddle could deny her when he'd eat just as much sweets while toiling over papers in his office. He remembers the familiar patter of feet slipping in, tiny hands pushing a cookie on his desk and coating it with crumbs.

He'd scold her to bring a plate next time, but take a break from work to enjoy the moment. Strict yet not domineering. A child that shares should be encouraged, at least that's what one of his many parenting manuals said.

She shared his button nose and tiny stature. Except she loved wearing matching Mary-Janes with her mother, while he wouldn't be caught without a heel at that age. She inherited his height but not his insecurity. Thank goodness.

Perhaps all those comments about his genetics weren't solely in regard to her magical prowess or ambitions. "....Father? Hellloooo?" she side-stepped to grab her bags, just as he reached to flatten her hair for the fifth time. His heart mellowed enough to not scold her impropriety.

"Ah - " Riddle coughed into his fist, " - apologies, little rose. I just never realized how much you look like -"

"You?” She cut in, “Yeah, psssssh. Mother says it at least once a day. About time you listened."

Riddle snorted, pinching between his brows. Yes, of course it was said. Although only now was he beginning to believe it.

"In appearances, yes. Yet your manners are as deplorable as ever."

Leona hopes his children are nothing like him. Which is impossible, since beastmen carry dominant traits when pitted against humans. He's not surprised in the slightest when his child has two little cub-ears atop their head, or that tiny chord barely passing as a tail. A ready snack he threatens to bite off when they misbehave.

At the very least, he hoped for your eyes. His piercing citrine was attractive, no doubt about that. He's not displeased to have them peer up at him from a bassinette each morning. Yet it is your eyes that carry a softness that this palace needs for him to get through his day.

Hey. At least there's no question of paternity. The joke falls flat with the midwives though. 'course it does.

Multiple times, by the way. For someone who claims to dislike loud children, Leona's genes are intent to sire three spitting images of himself.

In every which way - from their squeaky yawns after a mid-day siesta, to the magic flowing in their veins.

"Papa! Look what I learned how to do!"

Leona barely had time to look up from his endless pile of paperwork. The damn thing was near endless, and he'd missed three scheduled siestas just trying to get through the civil dispute filings. His brother spared no mercy in delegating the less 'enthusing' tasks to his 'smart, wise, people-smart' - pah - little brother.

He hated the sea of menial administrative filings.

His eldest daughter was well aware - she hated her homework just as much.

"A stampede's on it's way! Better freeze up before it's too late!"

Which is why she chose that moment to turn her beloved papa's woes to stone. Literally.

The moment her little fingers touched papyrus, the entire stack turned into solid rock. As did the blood in Leona's veins. Sparkly citrine eyes looked at him expectantly. Somewhere in the palace the lioness' tutor was undoubtly scouring to find her, take her back to magic theory, maybe try to cover this up from the other servants.

"You - OI! I needed those - urk, what else have you turned to stone?" he drops the pen in his hand and tries to move the now frozen stack into a drawer.

"Dammit Ki'faji...Where are your tutors? This is exactly why I told your mom combined lessons with Cheka would be a hassle," Leona grumbles and kicks from his desk, quick to check the hall outside. The kid was a bad influence - rambunctious as a twerp and even more riled up as a preteen.

Upon seeing no servants, guards, or even Cheka running up after his cousin - Leona's both relieved and angered.

Angered that his daughter was left alone. She probably escaped to avoid classwork, which he did too at that age but she deserved better. A proper education outside of solitude. One where she could hopefully grow up optimistic about this country and the people inside of it.

Relieved that no servant witnessed her Unique magic. They wouldn't understand. He can't bear the thought of them speaking of her like they did him.

Except it would be inevitable.

Then angered again, because in his hurry her little tail tucked between her legs. She hugged the side of his work desk with her hands fisted at the hem of her tunic. Her lips set in a scared pout, looking up at him past that untamed mane in her eyes. Worried.

"Papa...did I do something wrong?"

He wonders if this is what his father felt like. Being confronted with your own child, knowing that by cruel fate they'd have to face hardships and hatred for something out of their control.

Suffocating. His own throat felt full of sand. The leather on his hands too tight. She looked so much like him. Acted like him. That much Leona never once contested. Ki-Faji bemoaned to the skies that it was like time never passed, and he was stuck in a loop teaching the same unruly child.

It was funny, until it wasn't. "Nah, kiddo. Nothin' like that," he tried to keep his usual drawl. Unclench his fists. Forget about when he first slipped gloves on, "ya gotta warn me before a shock like that. So you finally got your magic tamed down, huh? Good job."

He shut the door and it set closed with a load thud. Leona might have an idea of what his father felt, but right now? She came first.

Ensuring she felt wanted, strong, and damn right accomplished - came first. Everything else later.

So with just a few strides, he swept her up over his shoulder and out from under that desk. She giggled and squawked about turning 'him' to stone if he made her go back to classes.

And Leona made no promises, but set her on the edge of his desk with 'threats' of turning her sweets to sand if she didn't at least try.

"With Unique Magic like that, you'll out-class your cousin before he even catches wind," and a bit of rivalry never hurt to keep the bloodline strong too.

Which judging by his daughter's immediate squirming to go and turn the first-prince to stone? She inherited Leona's competitive streak as well.

Unions between Merfolk and Humans are rare. Roughly 1/100 and that is giving benefit of the doubt. There were too many boundaries and complications. Prejudice born from history, the need for transfiguration, differing lifespans and culture.

One strong deterrent, perhaps the most impactful, is childrearing. The genetic output - while not impossible - is exceedingly unpredictable. Each species of merfolk reproduces differently, and their genetic dominance when put against a human's gene (especially if the mother is human) can cause complications. Capricious complications.

And as we all know - Azul is not fond of chance. Were his child to be born on land, yet have gills? Their lungs are so small, so new, they wouldn't make it to water in time. The same could be if they were born underwater and needed air.

One thing he is certain of, is that Octopi carry strong genetics. Literally. Should the child inherit his strength its kicks could do much more to your stomach than be a tickle to fawn over.

His mother wanted grandchildren, as did his great-grandmother did great grandchildren. Truth be told he wouldn't be opposed to raise one to leave his legacy to. Yet the Ashengrotto genes were strong with each descendent, so much that when he discovered you were with child? He couldn't be happy. Not truly - because too much was at risk and out of his control.

He prayed, which is not something Azul ever does, that the child would take after you. At each stage of development you were monitored down to the last detail, looking for any complications. Even the slightest hint of a tentacle or incompatibility.

Luckily, the child formed feet. Its first kick scared the hell out of him, but at most left you sore. Yet he wasn't able to relax. Not until you were taken care of in the best hospital on land, with a literal aquarium set up next to the bed just in case.

A medical marvel. That's what this child was.

Not a miracle. Not a blessing.

A medical marvel, and the most beautifully unpredictable thing that has ever happened to Azul in his entire life.

There was no clear picture of how his son might look at birth. He waited with bated breath, mentally running through every text he could find on mer-human unions. Banking on all the preparations He arranged and trying not to bite through his nails from the anxiety. The success rate was too low, but you insisted.

And he was most fortunate, because had you not then he wouldn't be holding the most cherished prize of his life.

The baby didn't cry, yet neither did he according to his mother. He was pale, no gills in sight but the wispy swirls of light gray on his head showed Azul's genes wouldn't rescind everything.

It was hidden from view for now, but there were signs of mixed blood on his son's skin. Plentiful black dots spotted his entire body, too dark to be freckles yet too light to be like Azul's outer skin in his mer-form. Time would only tell if Azul's genes really did overtake all, and if his son would look at the world with wet purple eyes.

Yet what struck Azul the most wasn't these obvious traits, ones he predicted at the very start of your pregnancy after endless nights of research.

It was that right below his son's lip, in the same spot as his father, was a small mole. That truly was by chance with no genetic influence.

He thumbed the little speck, marveling at something so small yet he didn't realize he wanted until it was there.

"You weren't lying, huh? Those are some strong genetics you carry."

Azul balked, just barely stopping himself from whipping around too quick. He turned to scold you for not sleeping, worry ebbing at him all over again.

Yet you rest your head against his shoulder, cheek pressed into his ruffled button down to sink against him. His heart still spun like it did as a teenager.

"Look at his little head of hair," you laughed, and he mutely did just that, "if he gets glasses, then I think my bloodline's finished. Might as well say you did mitosis"

That got him to scoff.

"Hardly," he said dismissively, but his lips pulled to smile regardless, "I don't recall giving him feet. That's all your doing."

"Well excuse me for not having eight legs."

"You are excused," he snickered, "Truly, he would be so much more productive with them."

Azul didn't mean that. Well, partially. Yes his son would get much more done with four sets of arms but with other costs.

You hadn't pressed, and he was grateful.

Kalim wants a large family. Not only because it is expected of him as the eldest Asim, but also because he is a family man. He adores his siblings and does his absolute best to give them all attention despite their large quantity.

He's the most doting husband, and is even more attentive as a parent. One thing he will do differently from his father is keeping his family 'small'. Four children minimum, six children maximum. Monogamous as well. As much as he loves all his siblings, the unspoken tensions are too much to endure. Kalim's also a one-spouse kind of guy, and the thought of sharing - while normal for someone of his status - is not for him. No amount of suggestion or pressure will change that. It is bad enough that his children will be subject to worries about their uncles, aunties, and cousins possibly harboring ill-will. Kalim is set on ensuring that they are part of a true family, one without such tensions, and that he can give them all the love they deserve.

Perhaps he feels guilt as the eldest. He received the most attention from his father as the heir, but he has siblings who barely know anything about their father aside from how he looks. He has step-mothers he has met only in formality, and as time went on there were strains between his siblings that he couldn't ignore. Not after taking his official seat.

Kalim will not be the same as his father. Regardless for his respect and love for the man - No matter what the future does to him, no matter if he lives a long life or one cut short. Kalim will make sure his spouse and children are cared for. He loves them more than anything on the planet.

Should he have a family, and the situation demand it? He'd give up his spot as heir in a heartbeat and move far out into the dunes with nothing but the clothes on his back. All for them to be happy and safe. That's the kind of dad he is.

"Baba?"

Kalim resisted the urge to giggle. His eldest son hated when Kalim acted too childlike, and he was already pushing the boy's patience. He was just past thirteen, his fourteenth birthday already planned for a week-long celebration in just a half-month. It would be the biggest banquet the Scaldings Sands had see since Kalim's wedding. His son would soon start officially training as the next head Asim, just like Kalim did at that age.

Yet it was never too early to celebrate one of the best days of Kalim's life. Which is exactly why Kalim hovered outside the boy's window at an hour long past their family's 'bedtime'. The carpet under his feet familiar as ever, as was his son's exhausted disapproval (we wonder which attendant he inherited 'that' look from).

"Come on! Let's go for a carpet ride. Just you and me tonight," Kalim gently pat the space next to him, his smile adamant, "we don't even have to tell your mother."

His son deadpanned. Even Kalim grimaced at that one.

"Okay! If we get caught, I'll take the hit for both of us. Please? It's such a lovely night out. Perfect for a flight~"

Normally it would be the son begging his father to sneak out, not the other way around. Yet Kalim's eldest was much more mature than he was at that age. Despite being his physical copy, those ruby reds never sparkled with excitement like his father's. They were aways fully concentrated - be it on his studies, his charity, or whomever captured his attention. There came a point when a rumor surfaced that he couldn't possibly be Kalims, yet they didn't reach far thanks to the physical resemblance.

The 'only' resemblance. Since the kid hadn't cracked a laugh since he was in diapers.

Something Kalim learned to accept, but never gave up trying.

His son observed from his bed, the boy's nose wrinkled with thought. No doubt wondering if he should tattle to his mom. He was a doting momma's boy, at least he had that in common with his father.

"Fine," he sighed heavily, and rolled out of bed like it was torture.

Kalim waited, holding the curtain open eagerly until his boy hopped the ledge and sat cross-legged on the carpet's far edge.

Then they were off. High above the city where no one would see. Kalim bobbed his head happily, pointing out buildings as if his son hadn't memorized the entire map of their homeland at the ripe age of five.

"Oh! And there's the restaurant I took your mother on our first date. She loves their Kanafeh -"

"Baba, I know. We have it for breakfast twice every week."

Kalim guided the carpet towards lower ground without a response - keeping air, sassy teenagers, and his messy turban from whacking him in the face.

Only two of those three succeeded.

"Why are we even out here? Shouldn't you worry more about your responsibilities? What if mother wakes to an empty bed, did you consider the consequences? Her worries?"

There came those older thoughts out of such a young mouth. Kalim couldn't help but slump inwards, although his smile still hung on. "You're turning fourteen soon," life will change, "Don't you want to enjoy life a bit more before starting your studies? Baba will understand, you know." he said, and perhaps that was not what his son expected to hear. The boy puffed up. His tanned skin rouging with lost composure.

"I'm not like you. Being al Asim means something to me. Maybe you'd understand if you were a proper sultan who took his job and family seriously! Rather than sneaking off in the night for merry rides on a flying carpet!"

Under the moonlight, his son's perfectly primmed white hair bounced in the wind. Even in sleep he managed to keep his appearance tidy. There were times it was like Kailm was looking in warped a mirror. Those rare moments when he caught the boy lapse, usually with his younger siblings or cousins. When he looked softer, his garnet eyes full of kindness rather than the contempt held in them right now.

Except in these moments too - he still saw a mirror. Just one he wished to avoid.

He too disliked his father's way of doing things, to a certain extent. That his own son felt similar wasn't a surprise. It did not lessen the sting regardless.

"Tifli..." Kalim started, and his son faltered at the endearment, "think what you want, but there is nothing that means more to me than our family."

And even if his son wouldn't admit to it - Kalim knew he saw the mirror too. Just because Kalim disliked his father's choices, didn't mean he did not love him.

He reached for his son without a second thought, pulling the boy down to roughly rub his cheek over his head.

and just like that, Kalim was back to being happy and his son back to groaning complaints - albeit less agitated, to Kalim's delight - and pretending he was much more mature than he was deep down. Kalim's opposite yet perfect little replica.

"Ahahaha!!! Look at you! Just wait until the council has to fight against that fire! I can't wait to bring you with me! "

"AGH LET ME GO!!! WHY DID I EVEN AGREE TO THIS?!"

Papa Vil - now that's one unexpected title to tack onto his Resume. Contrary to what everyone might believe of a superstar leading a life on the go, Vil is proud to be a father. His own raised him while juggling his goals, why should Vil's career deny him the joys of fatherhood?

No. When Vil's daughter is born, he is more than prepared to balance family and work. He locked in when taking a spouse, and is never one to be unprepared.

When you were pregnant, he announced a hiatus in his career just as you entered the third trimester. He can afford it. The public loves a family man. He has money money, and wasn't going to risk missing the birth of his first child while travelling.

Also. Supportive husband to the maximum. Considering you were carrying his child, the bare minimum he could do was be readily available as you go through the roughest stage. That baby had a college fund made and filled before she was even born.

Not that he'd just let her mooch - no child of his would grow up without ambition and practiced life skills. He was not 'aiming' to create a replica or enforce his standards...but she wouldn't lack drive. No Schoenheit - not even you - is going to go through life quietly.

His hiatus was meant to extend until she turned one. Old enough to enjoy life on the road, for you to recover, and give 3-5 years for him to work until she started school. Unlike him at that age, she wouldn't be chartered around as much for his work. Nope.

He already had it planned. She'd be enrolled in a private academy, you'd work as you liked in a good neighborhood, and he wouldn't take any contracts outside of the Shaftlands until she was a teenager. Balance. She would have every opportunity, proper support, and hopefully independence to grow outside of his shadow.

The last thing Vil wanted was for her to be influenced by his career - well, other than admiring his films and being that perfect little face to single out int the audience while at a talk-show or photoshoot.

Speaking of Schoenheit genetics and their blossoming careers - heavens above, he fell in love the moment she first opened her eyes. There were few curly blond ringlets that grew out at super speed as the months past, and she inherited his lavender eyes. Although on a baby they were more rounded, doe-like, and would most definitely take his sharp edge as she grew. Every time he booped her little nose, the little giggle that came was almost melodic.

Such a well behaved baby made a cameo in one of his largest projects to date. He took the role of an unruly ostracized duke, where the special effects makeup made him both enchanting yet horribly frightening to young children. His character gained his redemption through raising an orphan, and Vil's little girl was the only baby they could find who wouldn't cry when seeing her father act so heinous.

"Vil, everyone here is itching to know, is it true that the baby we see in 'Redemption of our Finest ' is your own daughter? There are rumors and speculations from those on set yet we'd love confirmation."

Vil shifts in his chair. The many cameras at all angles did little to deter his focus from the interview in progress. It was one of many, and the talk-host across from him looked very eager to get the first scoop on his latest hit success. He smiled to the camera with his eyes, pretending to be in thought for a moment. The questions were all pre-approved, after all.

"Your assumption and the rumors are all correct," he started, crossing his legs and folding his hands together in them, "unfortunately we struggled to find a child that would not cry when faced with my appearance. Poor little things - it is a struggle to rear child actors. Especially babies."

The reporter blinked, somehow still shocked despite knowing the already.

"And you're saying that your daughter is a cut above the rest?" they asked, and he tutted inwardly. The phrasing was poor, as always with these reporters.

"Yes," he gave them a moment's victory, "and no."

He didn't wait for further inquiry.

"My daughter is remarkable - she is my greatest production, a work of perfection alongside my beloved spouse. Yet this film is rated PG-13, and includes scenes not fit for young eyes. Babies act on instincts alone, and for the majority of this film my appearance was...ah, I so rarely say this, but I was unsightly."

His tone carried warning for them not to twist his words, and the message was received as they gestured for those behind the scenes to alter the backdrop.

"We could even argue your acting ability is that good! To make such a beautiful face and poised demeanor come off as cold." they said, and with the click of a button the screen behind them changed.

On it came a picture of an old, tattered bassinette left on the front stoop of a castle. The picture flicked to show inside, and in it was Vil's precious little girl. Special effects added some dirt on her cheeks, and they wrapped her in a tattered blanket for the scene. Yet despite their efforts to make the child look abandoned, Schoenheit genetics demanded the world see such an adorable baby for all she is.

The audience awed at the picture, even without a cue card. Vil himself took on a genuine lift to his practiced smile when seeing her.

"And just look at her folks! Such an adorable little baby! Can you really expect anything less from THE Vil Schoenheit and Eric Venue's heritage. An actor before she can even count! Your wife's genes didn't even try here, did they Vil?"

The crowd appears insatiable as the host scrolls through a series of photos. Some taken from the film, others from photoshoots and the occasional candid photo snuck by paparazzi. He knew better than to try and hide his family, but said nothing as they all made assumptions.

After all - he was beautiful, and his daughter was undoubtedly the most beloved baby in all of Twisted Wonderland. It was only natural and who was he to turn his nose when faced with one of the few facts these reporters have gotten right.

Although, he wasn't entirely content He laughed into his palm, unable to resist the chance and made direct eye-contact with one of the cameras. Knowing full well that you were watching somewhere back stage, lips likely puckered from being disrespected and just waiting for him to come sneak your family out before the public was dismissed.

"I'm afraid there is nothing to argue there. My genes are perfection, not to mention competitive," he smirked seductively at the camera, propping his chin in the palm of his hand, "but I'm not opposed if my wife would like a rematch for a chance to win the next battle."

And with that - he simultaneously spiked his popularity rating and soft-launched what would likely be a second replica coming to life soon.

Maybe.

If you didn't kill him for that stunt first.

Prodigies spawn prodigies. At least in this case.

Idia never pictured himself as a family man. Hells he never thought anyone would even look at him with anything other than disgust (minus that one ghost lady. He doesn’t like to talk about it) let alone marry him. Needless to say that he cannot decide if you are an idiot or if he has plot armor - because those are the only two reasons you could possibly ever agree to give up your entire life and move to STYX just to be with him.

**see Marriage series for settling THAT can of worms

Yet you do, and now he’s got not only his little brother but a whole ass spouse. He’s on cloud nine. Life cannot be letting him have such good luck. The RNG is rigged

Until he learns that you’re with child - and it all goes boom. Literally. Since not only does his daughter inherit his curse, his fiery flames that never tame themselves, and his spiked teeth that nip his lips way too many times for comfort -

She inherits his genius.

Raising a child in a contained base is a living nightmare.

Raising a child with a need to infiltrate the laboratories and experiment is hell. At least he kept to his room when tinkering as a kid. Idia’s daughter has his brains and your craftiness for going around undetected…and your habit of initiating dramatic events. Needless to say that she does NOT keep to your family’s apartment, does NOT submit to any security (he regrets teaching her how to decode the base padlocks), and very much enjoys making STYX ‘lively’….haha…yeah

No one has ever met such a happy Shroud. Excluding Ortho. He was a sweet type of happy. You spawned a menace.

But let’s not derail. Even if he didn’t want her per-say - Idia loves his daughter. His gut twisted seeing the Shroud curse start taking hold over such a tiny body. She was just a toddler and already burning through enough blot to tie her to this place. He knew the feeling of those youthful amber eyes looking at him for guidance. She looked so much like Ortho as a toddler, and as a child began to resemble him more with longer flames.

It was a constant battle every day. Balancing his work while also trying to do better - because his attitude sucked. He knew his attitude sucked. You warned him about using self-deprecative language and for the most part he did learn to reign it in.

Except old habits die hard, and deep down he still struggles to like himself. Seeing his daughter follow in his footsteps burns brutally, since she has all this potential and just like him she’ end up working for the family business without a choice. All because of these stupid flames and these stupid teeth and these stupid genetics and this STUPID curse -

“MAMAAAAAAAA!!!! DADDY’S BEING A BIG MEANIE AGAIN!!!”

Her shrill high-pitched cry carried throughout the apartment. Idia had just enough time to swipe the alarm system off before it processed. He wishes he could regret putting a system to detect and alert if she was distressed when alone here - but couldn’t. Even now. Since this was totally 100% his fault.

Dammit this kid has lungs of steel.

“Nonononononono - No Mama! No! Shhh shh shh shh!” He grapppled at her little shoulders with clammy hands, “Look! Look I’m not sad, see??? We have pretty hair! Super cool hair! Please please please stop crying -“

And then she did.

The tonal whiplash. The way this tiny manipulator just ceased all her tears, mouth clamping shut with an audible click. A literal child pulling out a handkerchief from her pocket to pat her eyes dry - like some twisted 60yr old swindler at a poker game who’s been training for this moment for decades.

He should have known.

Honestly. Idia can’t even bring himself to be mad. The amount of gaslighting it took to get this kid off his Ninswendo last week already put his best tricks to use.

He is the one who created this monster.

Just like her dad - his little girl was hyper aware of people. Including him, and picked up all his weaknesses. She knew damn well that he genuinely had reason to fear only two people - her momma and her grandmother. Both of which lecture him about being a good model. She knew that system was put in place, and to be good when no one was around to watch her. Not that she ever stayed quiet in their home with S.T.Y.X labs to infiltrate.

He just never thought the day would come, when her demon like tendencies would be used for something like this.

“Your her father, not her friend” his mother said.

“It’s bad enough you turned me into a living photocopier - don’t you dare get lenient with her at this age” you warned.

“That child scares me” he thought, and you agreed. Awful. Awful parents. You both mean it in the most loving way possible.

“Hwee hee hee! I’m glad you think so, daddy,” she grinned up at him all sweet-like, with those pointy little chompers ready to stake their claim. She snapped her teeth at him like a piranha, “hehe~ Mommy says our teeth are cool too. The pointies make eating steak easier - oh! Oh! Can we please have steak for dinner tonight? Please?? Pleaseeeeee?”

Something told him that should he say no, those distress detectors would be set off before he could catch them.

“U-uh…yeah, kiddo. Sure thing. Just go play and I’ll put an order in.”

He tried desperately to hide the quiver in his voice, but knew he failed. She skipped off to her bedroom much too happily - even if father’s were supposed to want their kids to be happy, that was too much - and whatever work remained for the evening didn’t seem important

As Idia slid up to one of the house control panels to check for instant-card delivery, he wondered how this became his life, and if this is how his parents felt having a prodigal spawn of the under-hells for a son.

No. He wasn’t that bad….was he? Did he even want to know at this point?

Boom

“DADDY!!! MY EXPERIMENT BLEW UP AND IS LEAKING RED GUNK!”

No. No. He really did not want to know. For the sake of whatever relationship he had with his parents.

He wants as many children as possible. The definition of that one clip of of the kid who wanted 100 children, so that they'd all have to be his friend. Not that Malleus would force his children to be his friends - well, it would be a plus surely - but he does want a large family to live his life beside.

He finds comfort in solitude, but comfort's close companion is loneliness. He wishes to never be partnered with that feeling. There was opposition. Union between the Briar Prince and a human? Unheard of. Not to mention the life-span difference. Not just between himself and you, but also for his children. Half-fae live long, but not as long as full-blooded fae. In time he will still come out alone, but he hopes to have many memories. Much love and warmth to take with him.

Yet this isn't meant to be sad - no, let us focus on the absolute joy he felt when his first child was born. A boy, his magic exceedingly strong despite his lineage. Even the elders were surprised at the magical prowess this child held. It was almost as if Malleus' nightly wishes for his child to be well, to be loved, to be healthy - taking every precaution to ensure you were well cared for during pregnancy, speaking blessings to your stomach in the dead of night - it all just manifested and out came the world's most perfect child.

A Draconia who would grow up with both parents. He'd be protected, nurtured, loved, and never ever alone. Some might call the King overbearing, making sure his spouse had a desk in his office and attending his meetings with a bright yellow baby sling over his chest. It definitely stood out against his royal attire but Malleus didn't mind.

In magic - there was also physical appearance. Being half-human, the child physically aged quicker than Malleus did in his youth. Yet he still retained the Draconia genes, with two curled scaly horns poking out above his forehead. He had no tail at birth, but around puberty many little scales began to poke their way through at his temple, back, wrists, and neck. No one predicted this since the Draconias have never reproduced with humans, but you tried to calm him with poorly convoluted jokes about ' fancy dragon acne'.

Yet according to Lilia, the boy looked like a near carbon-copy of Malleus once he sprouted up. His hair may have been kept shorter, slicked back, and he may carry himself entirely different from his father. Yet the look in his slitted-emerald eyes was exactly the same. His aura was the same.

And Malleus hadn't any idea how to handle that observation. Surely it was meant as a compliment. In the moment, he laughed and took it as one. Who wouldn't be prideful to see themselves in their child? Especially one so accomplished, growing into his scales with pride and eagerly stepping into his role as prince.

Except Malleus wouldn't, because the thought of his child sharing the feelings he had at that age? It unsettled him greatly. Perhaps one of his worst nightmares as a doting father.

“Father?”

Three sharp knocks echoed in Malleus’ study. He needn’t look up from his book, since the door opened with a thud without waiting for his approval.

Not that he minded - no, quite the contrary. He felt excitement building up at the first knock after all. There was only one person who it could be.

No one would dare impose on the Briar King during his downtime.

None had permission for such rudeness.

No one except his dear family, of course. Although as much as he wished for them to cling to his side and be a welcome reprise from his duties - Malleus was rarely afforded such a gift. His eldest son in particular conducted himself more as a knight or distant consultant than a loving son. Perhaps that came from leaving him in Sebek’s care - as much as his knight was ecstatic to become the first prince’s personal guard, his constant reverence to the elder briar ways likely left an impact on an impressionable child. Instead of bedtime stories, the little Draconia likely fell asleep to Sebek's long-winded lectures on the daily.

Back when he was a starry-eyed toddler, of course. Now the boy wouldn't dare let his guard down enough to sleep, even if his safety was guaranteed. Somehow despite Malleus taking every last precaution to rear a tranquil child, he raised a stickler instead.

“Hm? You look troubled, my son” Malleus met his eldest’s rare lack of decorum with amusement. He didn’t bother to hide a fanged smirk from him.

His son, who seemed to bristle in the doorway when under Malleus’ eye, clearly struggled to contain himself into the proper prince he was trying to be.

“Because I am troubled, father” he grit out, hands flexing at his sides. Sharp black fingernails pricking at his palms.

“Oh? And what seems to be the problem? You so rarely come to me with such matters” - to anyone who didn’t know the king, the sentence read as a bitter slight.

Yet it was merely a father sulking for his son’s attention, in his own prideful way.

“That’s precisely the issue,” his son huffed, “with all held respect, you cannot just drop in on my classes whenever you feel like it! It’s disruptive!”

Malleus merely turned the page in his book, “and whose fault is it that I had to resort to such measures?”

His question met a guilty conscience, and so he continued.

“What else am I to do? My child no longer behaves as my blood. He writes home giving stale reports as if he is one of my soldiers and bids his precious family far too few visits,” Malleus looks up from his ‘reading,’ and gestures to the uniform his son wears, “What else am I to do to see my precious son, other than visit his school? I was a student there once. Your headmaster wouldn’t dare to deny my entry.”

“Father - I understand your anger with my negligence but that is not an excuse for disrupting my classmates -“

“They looked quite please with my presence. I even supplemented material for your lecture -“

“They were scared beyond their wits! - And what of mother?! Surely she was against doing something so drastic! Think of our image! The King of Briar Valley cannot just casually drop his responsibilities whenever he so pleases.”

The boy’s composure finally cracked - and even for a half-blood, his power easily contorted the world around them if left unteathered.

Crackles of electricity buzzed across the study, flickering through a lit desk-lamp. As did the temperature lessen some degrees. Rather than be miffed by his son’s explosion, Malleus laughed in the face of it.

So this is how he must have looked during his moments of impulsivity. Hah.

“You���d be foolish to assume she didn’t try and come along. I thought to spare you her ire, as a mercy.”

At that, the lamp ceased it’s flickering to beam a steady light once again. The teen’s cheeks flushed a shameful color, so rare for one who prides himself more than any of his siblings.

"That was not necessary," he softened almost instantly. Even if she nearly committed the same 'crime' as Malleus, it seems favorites were at play.

"You know with certainty that it was."

A Draconia through and through. What was the term Lilia used? “Momma’s boy”? Considering that none disrespect the Queen - the King included - as her ire could strike the most sore spots of their family after all.

The boy pulled at his collar, out of arguments and simmered to displeasure rather than anger. He muttered an apology for losing his temper, and Malleus found himself wishing for the argument to continue just a bit longer.

After all, these were the times he felt most like a father, a husband, part of a family - rather than a king. He misses the early days when he was only the first three, before the council and other influences pushed his children to focus on responsibilities and their lineage.

“I’m sorry for not writing home…or visiting…I hadn’t thought it would trouble you. I simply - I thought it best to place distance between us.”

“Distance?” Malleus balked, “Distance from your family?”

He couldn’t understand why his child would want distance.

How could the boy he worked so hard to instill belonging within, whom he raised from egg to man, whom he would give up everything for - possibly say such a harrowing thing.

His own blood. His heart and soul. To spew such things in the face of ancestors who were bound to loneliness.

Whatever explanation for his manners didn’t matter so long as he was happy, but to intentionally want to be away from all Malleus thought worthwhile in life?

Never-mind. Malleus wanted the argument to cease. Indefinitely. And to tie himself to this desk for a decade or more.

“Yes, Father. Otherwise it is too difficult-“ he hesitated to continue, but one look at his father- whatever expression he might hold that couldn’t be contained despite his efforts - seemed to be the last push, “- being away. From my family. Leaving. I do not like it, but it is my duty. Coming home, hearing from you, mother, even the care packages I receive from grandfather! I can’t eat them but somehow just smelling the burnt food makes me falter! How can you expect me to preform up to our family’s standards, if I am homesick all the time!?”

It was the first time since he was a boy, clinging to Malleus’ legs, begging his parents not to leave him with his babysitters, that his son cried so openly. Malleus nearly gave in each time it happened too.

The pressure of royal duties, of perfection, on his shoulders was the same as those who came before him. Yet Malleus found himself more relieved than anything, even if his child might never recover his pride.

It was also the first time in many years that Malleus hugged his son, careful to avoid his growing blunted horns, and wasn’t pushed away.

“You are already doing more than enough. Loving your family is nothing to be ashamed of, and it is one of my greatest regrets that you thought otherwise for a single moment.”

[deadbeatbirdmom]

One of the themes in RWBY is about the current generation being failed by the previous one. We see it a lot with the mess that is the Xiao Long-Rose-Branwen family.

Every single member of Team STRQ failed Yang and Ruby, to a greater and/or lesser extent.

(read more cut because this gets long, although I make no promises that I'll cover everything, and please forgive any typos, I'm very tired)

Raven abandoned her daughter and her husband (yes, husband, according to 'The World of RWBY' book by Daniel Wallace, written with input from CRWBY), and the rest of her team. Yang wasn't old enough to remember her, and may well have still been a baby at the time. The reason why seems to have been for Raven to take the leadership of the Branwen tribe of bandits, although I think it was more complicated than that, which would fit with Raven being such a complicated woman.

Summer. Yang's super-mom. The mother who stepped up. I deeply respect that. She had the best of intentions when she left on that super secret mission with Raven, presumably to confront Salem. To protect her family, and hopefully so she'd never need to leave them again. Unfortunately good intentions pave the road to hell, and she ended up never going home to her girls. That truly tore the family apart, and it never really recovered. Yang's abandonment issues aren't only from Raven leaving, and a lot of Ruby's issues come from trying to live up to the memory of Summer while being held to impossible standards.

Tai didn't react well to the loss of Summer. To quote Yang: he shut down. Yang had to pick up the pieces and keep things together. Alone. Because Tai was always busy with school, and Ruby couldn't talk yet. It's striking that Yang refers to her dad by name in Alone Together when talking to Weiss about it. Most kids don't do that when referring to their parents. Your mileage may vary about what that means, but to me it sounds a lot like resentment. Don't get me wrong, Yang loves her dad. But it's entirely possible to feel both love and resentment.

I do empathise with Tai. I'm all too familiar with grief and loss and depression. I'm sure he did his best, and as far as we know he did keep his kids fed and clothed, and gave them treats from time to time like the boba tea mentioned in the RWBY Beyond episode. But the fact remains that Yang ended up doing more to raise Ruby than she ever should have or would have if at least one of her mothers had stayed. Yang had no reason to lie to Weiss about that.

And Tai definitely failed his daughters. Even without anything else, there's the incident when Yang and Ruby were left alone when clearly too young to be unattended, and Yang went in search of Raven, with Ruby pulled in a wagon. That they weren't devoured by Grimm is thanks to Qrow, and possibly Raven for getting Qrow there, because I don't know how else he found them in time besides good luck for once (or very bad luck for the Grimm).

Does that mean Raven might have given Yang more than one save, or wriggled out of her rule about that by getting Qrow to do the saving? Does she secretly have a bond with Ruby, and that was Ruby's save? Whatever the case, Raven failed them too, because Yang wouldn't have been looking for her if she hadn't needed a mother, and Raven was well aware she no longer had one.

I do think it quite likely that by this point Raven had become the Spring Maiden, so might not have felt able to return even if she wanted to - it would have risked endangering the girls if someone learned Raven was a Maiden and tried to take the power for themselves.

Did that near disaster give Tai a wake up call? Did Yang only raise Ruby until then? We don't know for sure, but as someone raised by a single mother for a while, I can tell you that single parents can't work and raise children without help. There doesn't seem to be any extended family around to have done so, probably all killed by Grimm in the dangerous world that is Remnant... Plus there's Ruby's words to Yang when they're reunited in Volume 9: "If you thought we wouldn’t come for you, then you must’ve forgotten who raised me." I really don't think Ruby is referring to Tai there. Especially with referring to just herself and not both Yang and herself with 'who raised me.'

Childcare exists in Remnant, at least in Argus (there's a mention of needing to collect Jaune's nephew from childcare in Volume 6). I can't imagine it's unheard of in Patch. Yet Tai doesn't seem to have used it. To be clear, if any of the rest of Team STRQ had been left as a single parent they'd have needed help with childcare too, you can't both work and raise children at the same time. That goes for Summer too, even super-mom would need help. Maybe Tai's teaching job didn't pay well enough for him to afford it. Maybe he feared reaching out for help would mean losing his daughters, and I have no doubt that he loves them, and not just because they're all he has left of their mothers.

The way Tai talks to Yang during her training session in Volume 4 does make me wonder if he associates her far too closely with Raven, because while there are similarities Yang is very much her own person and also influenced by Summer far more than by Raven. We don't see him interact much with Ruby, but I wouldn't be surprised if he similarly associates her too much with Summer.

It doesn't help that Yang and Ruby so closely resemble their mothers - and they do, despite Yang's hair and eyes being different to Raven's, apart from when her eyes turn red. That must've given Tai quite a shock the first time it happened... Anyway, my point is that Raven is like a dark reflection of Yang. Or Yang a bright reflection of Raven, I'm not sure which. The physical resemblance of mothers and daughters can't have helped Tai with constant reminders of them, especially as they grew older and the resemblance more striking.

Qrow... I'm sure Drunkle Qrow did his best to help out, but at the time his mindset on his Semblance would have limited him to fleeting visits rather than living with Tai and the girls. He simply loved them too much to want to risk Misfortune hurting them.

That and Qrow was raised by bandits, a rough upbringing where he was made to feel like a bad luck charm. I'm not entirely certain he'd have seen the problem with Yang having to raise Ruby. There is a story in the Yang official manga anthology where Qrow acknowledges kid!Yang has every right to be angry about being burdened with the responsibilities of grown ups, but how canon those anthologies are is ambiguous.

One thing for sure: both Yang and Ruby were familiar with Qrow being drunk, and having to deal with that, although never as bad as it got in Volume 6.

And yes, Ruby does talk about Qrow teaching at Signal, and having taught her to fight, and that Tai taught Yang, but that does not mean they were a happy family living together while that happened. Sorry, this family has been haunted and broken ever since Summer disappeared, and the cracks appeared when Raven noped out of there to be a bandit queen.

I've mostly talked about how Yang was affected. But Ruby was too. Sure, she had more of a childhood than Yang did, because to some extent Yang made sure of that. Chances are Ruby got good at pretending things are fine when they aren't. That and Ruby is quite possibly socially awkward for a reason: she was at least partly raised by a child only two years older than she was. Yang did her best, I've no doubt about that, but there's no way she knew what she was doing.

Why does Yang seem comparatively normal if she at least in part raised herself? Because she's good at blending in and wearing masks. She'd have to be to avoid raising suspicions with her teachers about the situation at home, because Tai couldn't have been the only one who afraid about the kids being taken away. One of Yang's worst nightmares must've been about being taken into care by social services and separated from Ruby. Presuming of course that Remnant has social services. It surely has to have something because of the likelihood of those orphaned by Grimm attacks, in addition to the more usual family breakdowns.

In conclusion: this is such a messy family, and as has been noted by @one-real-wrimonkey that's part of what makes them so interesting (sorry, I hope you don't mind being tagged).

[emotionally-cuckolded]

[Marriage Counselor] How long has it been now since your wife started cuckolding you? Four months I think. So tell me how you feel about it now. I've spoken with her and she's very pleased with how everything is going. How about you?

[Cuckold] Well -- I have started to feel less jealous about her having someone else as her sex partner. It's been hard the past month, though, since she decided to stop having sex with me.

[Marriage Counselor] But you do understand why, don't you. The sex she's been having with him is simply so much better than she has ever had with you that it makes it hard for her to even think about you in a sexual way anymore. You do understand that, don't you?

[Cuckold] Yes. It's frustrating, but yes I understand why she decided that. But the problem, really, now isn't just that. Two weeks ago, she told me that she and her sex partner -- the same guys she's been having sex with three or four times a week for almost two months now -- have decided to start going out on dates together. And so -- just a couple of nights ago -- they did. They went to a restaurant together, and then to a bar to listen to music, and then she spent the whole night with him at his apartment. I guess I never expected her relationship with him to ever be anything more than just sex.

[Marriage Counselor] And that hurts your feelings and makes you jealous?

[Cuckold] Yes. Both of those things. And I worry that they might see someone we know -- that people will find out that she cuckolds me.

[Marriage Counselor] O.K. Let me ask you this. You do really love her, right? And want her to be happy, and satisfied, and feeling fulfilled in life.

[Cuckold] Well yes. Of course. More than anything in my life! That's why I agreed with you when you first recommended that she cuckold me. Because I knew it was something she needed to do to be happy and to be satisfied and to feel fulfilled.

[Marriage Counselor] Good. That's right. Well -- let me say two things about what is happening now. First, you need to understand that when a woman is with a man as often as your wife has been with him, and when he is satisfying her sexual needs the way he is for her -- it is very natural for a woman to start to develop emotional feelings for the man -- often very strong emotional feelings. And so it is very natural for her want to be with him in ways that go beyond having sex.

And secondly -- going along with that -- your wife has deep romance needs in addition to her sexual needs. You knew that you had been failing to satisfy her sexually, but what you perhaps didn't realize is that she was feeling romance-deprived as well. Ultimately, what she needed was not just another sexual partner, but a real lover -- a man she cares about and wants to spend a lot of time with -- including socializing with and dating. Has she told you that he now refers to her as his girlfriend? And that they plan to go to a party together next week so that he can introduce her that way to his friends? And that she is eager to start going out with him as a couple with people that you and she used to socialize with?

[cuckold -- on the verge of tears]. Oh god - no. She hasn't told me all that. So pretty soon everyone will know?

[Marriage Counselor] Yes -- and yes, most men in your position feel very humiliated and ashamed, but I can work with you on that, so that you can accept that what you are doing -- stepping back so that your wife can fall in love with another man -- is something admirable -- a real sign of how deep your love is for her.

[cuckold] Falling in love? Is ... is that what's happening.

[Marriage Counselor] Oh yes. Most of my clients reach this point eventually, so I'm not surprised by it at all. What is important for you to focus on is that this is a very important time for your wife. She is experiencing the delirious thrill of fall in love and having her love requited. You want to make sure that you don't do anything to interfere with that experience for her. She and her boyfriend will be spending more and more time together I suspect, and all she needs from you is to be a supportive friend to her -- to step back and to step away, so that the two of them can explore their feelings for each other more -- and then you will need to accept, and even celebrate wherever that process ends up -- which for many of the couples I've worked with, involves the cucked husband fully replaced in his wife's life by her lover.

[mydollsaregay]

new ag historical releases, let's go!!!!

nanea

nanea's volunteer outfit is $36 and her care kit accessories are $40.

nanea got an outfit that is both cute and story-relevant (according to some other folks, i haven't gotten to her books yet)! that's pretty hype, man! this is a pretty cute fit - it comes in multiple parts (shirt, skirt with suspenders, and tie), which is a bonus, too. it's not 100% my style, but i'll definitely be picking it up at some point (i'll likely wait for a sale, though). the only thing i actively dislike is her bow barette. it's not that i think it's historically inaccurate or anything (i don't think it's inaccurate, but idk), i just am personally not a fan of plastic bows. that's fine though, i'll just replace it with a ribbon.

now, nanea's accessories on the other hand are OUTSTANDING. all the little items are so incredibly cute. my only wish would be for less plastic, and real leather instead of faux leather, but that ain't happening in this era of ag. i love all the little items, and i love that the flashlight really works! i'll definitely be picking this up.

maryellen

maryellen's 2-in-1 outfit is $36, her dinner accessories are $36, and her stove is $125.

maryellen received a new playsuit outfit, finally!!! i'm so excited to have more clothes for her that it looks like she can actually play in! it's really cute, too. it's not my favorite color scheme for her, unfortunately, but i can work with it. i still think her originally vacation playsuit and her strawberry outfit are superior (and suit her coloring better), but this is plenty cute.

her accessories and stove are cute enough, but just not for me. i don't really have anything else to say about them.

melody

melody's salon outfit is $36, her salon accessories are $40, and her salon chair set is $150.

melody's got pants! i love a historical outfit with pants, and this is no exception. once again, the color scheme isn't my most favorite, but it's still super cute. i'll definitely be getting it when i have a chance. i'm also just. so relieved that the poor girl isn't getting cubed. i was worried, with the lack of releases, but this makes me very happy to see.

her salon accessories are bit steep for having no complex pieces, imo. i'd be interested in having them for my melody, but if i don't get the chance to pick them up, it'll be fine. i don't do a lot of different haristyles on my dolls, so i'm not really the target audience here. i do love that the instruction booklet for the hairstyles is made to look like it's from the 60's as well. if this set goes on a major sale, i'll pick it up then.

i'm shocked and pleased that our girl melody got a major play set! it's a pretty cool set. those magazines are awesome, though it's a shame they're gated behind such a big ticket item. the hot comb is so fun. idk how this set will do, but i'm glad ag though melody was worth it. (kinda sad when that's surprising to me but. these are the times we live in.)

overall

i am very happy with this release! i think there's a lot here to please both kids and collectors. i can see myself picking up all of the outfits and most of the accessories at some point, given sales, reward points, gift certificates, etc. I'm not interested in the big ticket items or maryellen's cooking accessories, but that's fine. they aren't meant for me.

while i think all of the outfits are cute, they do follow the color scheme of recent ag releases: they all look a bit like they got run through a "pastel-izer" machine. i get that pastels are fun and cute, (and they likely sell well considering ag keeps doing em), but i'd love a bit more variety. i'm hoping it's a "springtime release" thing, and we might get some more saturated/deeper/darker colors on a historical release this fall or winter. honestly, im also just hoping we get ANY historical release this fall or winter.

things had been pretty quiet with historicals for quite some time before this drop, and tariffs are going to start kicking in sometime soon, so i am going to continue to expect the worst while hoping for the best.

in the end, this release is pretty great!

[obscuraimagines]

i NEED more for kodiak PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏 I DONT CARE WHAT IT IS I JUST NEED IT 😭😭

A/N: Thank you so much for this wildcard, Anon! I'm working on another request (which should be out in a couple of days) and this was really helpful in letting me get some plot stuff out of the way first. I really hope you enjoy!

Bite Me - Part Three

Summary: It's getting harder to keep your secret relationship secret. Mainly because Kodiak can't keep his hands to himself.

Content: Secret relationship, fear of getting found out, age difference (reader is over 18)

Part One

Part Two

The second day of your trek to freedom starts off badly. Kodiak berates Mari for falling asleep on guard duty, Natalie stands up for her and it turns into a blistering argument. By the time you set off, everyone’s on edge. You pick your way down the mountainside and there’s a brief ripple of something – hope? Alarm? – when you find the remnants of a campsite: flattened grass, the charred remnants of a fire. Natalie crouches to poke at a piece of charcoal, crushing it between her fingers. 

“This is recent. A few days maybe.”

You all exchange worried glances. If there are more people out here they’re an unknown quantity: even one stranger could tip the balance. 

“More like a week,” Kodiak catches up to you, Travis and Akilah trailing him. “Ask me how I know.”

You startle and then feel stupid because of course it’s his campsite. Natalie straightens, flushing angrily. It’s not like her to make mistakes but you’re all wound tight, bracing yourself for the worst, whether it’s a wolf attack or Shauna’s retribution. 

“This is where we would have camped last night if you’d all been able to keep pace,” Kodiak adds, unhelpfully. The way the others are bristling in Nat’s defence makes you nervous. Last time you all found one person to focus your frustrations on, that person ended up dead. You suspect, if it comes to that, Kodiak will take a few of you down with him. 

“You’re the one who wanted to hike for nearly twenty hours.” Nat bites the words out. Her voice drops low and gravelly towards the end and the others get still, the way animals hide when they sense a storm coming. Nat’s accent only comes into play when she’s right on the edge, clinging onto her temper with her fingernails. Travis moves to flank her: he isn’t exactly aiming the crossbow yet but he’s holding it in a pointed kind of way, as though that could change quickly. 

“My bad,” Kodiak says, looking unconcerned. “Here I thought it’d be good to put some distance between us and the cannibals – sorry, the other cannibals – before we slept. Maybe for you lot, waking up with someone gnawing on your leg is no big deal. I mean, it’s not like you’re the one who’s going to die if they catch up to us–”

You feel the air turn thick. There are a lot of things you’re all so careful not to say out here and Kodiak seems to delight in saying them, testing things until they break. He doesn’t understand yet how ugly things can get and how quickly things can tip over. You need to shut him up before someone else does. 

“We’re all going to die if they catch up to us.” You step between him and Nat: at this point, you’re not sure which one of them you’re shielding. “You’re lucky Shauna doesn’t care about you. The rest of us will suffer.”

The corner of Kodiak’s mouth quirks up, halfway to a smile. His focus is solely on you now, eyes darkening with interest. You feel breathless, remembering last night. 

“Great pep talk,” he tells you drily. “Hey, if soccer doesn’t work out, you could give the cheer squad a try. I hear the uniforms are better.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners a little and you can tell he’s daring you to start something, setting you off just to see what you’ll do.

“None of us slept very well last night.” You keep your voice reasonable, placating: your friends standing behind you probably think you’re playing peacemaker. You fix Kodiak with your most don’t–fuck–with–me glare and rub your shoulder, hooking the collar of your shirt out of the way with your thumb to let him glimpse the lovebite you’ve been carefully keeping hidden. Your heart is hammering in your chest. “Everyone’s tense. Let’s not make things worse than they need to be.”

Kodiak grins, wolfishly, all teeth. He steps forwards, getting right in your face. “Is that right?”

For a moment, you think he might actually call your bluff and start something, right then and there.

“Do. Not. Fucking. Test. Me,” you tell him in a low voice. 

Kodiak reaches out to brush your hair off your shoulder. You pull away, guiltily, afraid of what it’ll look like to the others, not realising that you practically recoiling from him looks worse. You hear Nat snarl and start forwards behind you, accompanied by Travis’s “hey, what the fuck–”

“You had a spider.” Kodiak pretends to brush something off your shoulder and raises his hands in innocent mock surrender. “You’re right: everyone is tense. Better save our energy for later.”

He strolls off, knowing that you have no choice but to follow him. 

“Are you okay?” Akilah asks once he’s out of earshot. “You look kind of um…”

You don’t want to think about what you look like right now. 

“He is such a fucking asshole,” Mari complains, slipping her arm through yours. “Remind me why we brought him?”

“He’s the only one who knows the way, Mar,” Akilah reminds her. 

“Ugh. He totally has it out for both of us.”

You tense. “He’s barely spoken to me.”

“No, he just weirdly glares at you. Like a lot.”

“You didn’t notice?” Akilah asks, her brow creased in concern. 

“No, I mean…” you stammer.

“Maybe he likes her.” Misty chirps at your elbow. For once, you don’t even mind her sneaking up on you. 

“Ohmygod Misty.” Mari’s voice is heavy with disgust. “Stop projecting your weird old man fetish onto the rest of us.”

None of you really want to think about Ben, so mercifully the subject drops. You walk in silence, barely listening to them. Your thoughts draw back to Kodiak. Just because he enjoyed the challenge doesn’t mean you’re not going to pay for it later. 

A little after noon, you hit the next roadblock. Kodiak stands looking out over an uneven expanse of rock. You can tell from the set of his shoulders that he’s frustrated. 

“Rockslide took the trail with it,” he tells your group tersely when you catch up to him. “We’ll have to backtrack, cut through the valley and up the other side.”

Nat surveys the rocky scree. You guess she’s thinking the same thing you are: you might make it but the ground will be treacherous and none of you have decent shoes. 

“We’ll lose a lot of height,” she comments. Going uphill is a long, difficult slog and losing altitude seems like a waste. 

Kodiak shrugs. “That’s why the trail was up here.”

Natalie glances at the green valley below you. This high up, you’re looking down onto treetops. 

“Is it dangerous?”

“Everywhere out here is dangerous.” Kodiak rolls his eyes. You bristle at that: as thought Nat – as though any of you – needs to be told the Wilderness isn’t safe. “Still better than what’s behind us.”

None of you have much choice except to turn back. Covering the same ground twice is dispiriting but at least you’re walking downhill this time. It’s unseasonably hot for September and mostly people walk in irritable silence. Everything starts to look the same: you’re starting to wonder if you’ve veered off course when you see a stream you passed earlier, falling like a bead curtain over a rocky outcrop and pooling into a natural basin. Kodiak takes pity on your group because he lets you stop to drink and soak your feet. Some of the others strip off their outer layers, soaking them in the water, wringing them and letting the damp fabric cool them down. You wish you could join them. There’s a natural cave behind it and you wander into the cool dark. It doesn’t look like much from the outside but it goes back further than you’d think. 

“Not joining the wet tshirt contest, huh?”

You didn’t hear Kodiak approach. 

“I might if someone hadn’t left a mark,” you tell him irritably. 

“Hey, you started it.” He indicates the spot on his shoulder where you bit him. There’s a faint crescent shaped smear of blood on his shirt. You hope the others haven’t noticed. “At least I was nice about it.”

“Speaking of nice,” you say, rounding on him. “Do you think you can ease up on the others for five fucking seconds?”

He catches your wrist. “I mean, if you want to improve my mood…”

You jerk your arm free. The rocks are slick underfoot and you almost fall. Kodiak steadies you and doesn’t let go, one hand on your elbow, the other resting on your hip. 

You glance towards the cave entrance. So far the others haven’t noticed. 

“Oh so that wasn’t blackmail before?” Kodiak asks, his tone deceptively pleasant. “I can never tell with you: are you flirting or just making threats.”

“You’re one to talk. Which is this?”

He smiles and lets go of your arm so he can trace your jawline with a fingertip, tilting your chin up so you’re forced to face him. His other hand lingers possessively on your hip, one thumb hooked into your belt loop. “See that’s the thing. I think you like it better when it’s both.”

he mortifying thing is, he’s not wrong. 

“I don’t think you actually want to be rescued,” he continues. You’re too taken aback to stutter out a protest. Kodiak steps into your space, pushing you with him until your back hits the cool stone behind you and you’re caged in his arms. “I think you’ve been out here so long, danger’s started to feel like home. I think you want more.” 

“I know what we’ve been through is some giant fucking joke to you,” you retort. You realise you’re being way too loud and drop your voice into a furious hiss. The worst part is, on some level he’s right; there is no going back to how things were. Either you’re going to die or you’re going to have to live with the knowledge of what you’ve done. “None of us asked for this. I didn’t– I should be a sophomore in college by now.” It’s getting harder to speak coherently. You dig your nails into your arm, willing yourself to keep it together. “I want to go home, okay? I want to be normal.”

You trail off, hating the plaintive note in your voice. 

Kodiak scoffs. “We both know you’re a long way past normal.” He shakes his head slightly, studying you, like you’ve disappointed him somehow. “Trust me. Civilisation’s going to bore you to tears.” 

“You are such a fucking asshole!” you snap, forgetting to be quiet. You wrench free from his grip and shove him. You have no hope of overpowering him but he takes a step backwards; his expression is amused, humouring you even as you storm off. 

“What happened?” Akilah asks, as you nearly knock her and Mari over.

“Nothing! Sorry!” You don’t look round, you just keep heading for the treeline as fast as you can without breaking into a run. You don’t really want to be around the others right now either. You’re all gambling your lives on Kodiak’s ability to guide you safely through the Wilderness: maybe if they’d known his real motivation they wouldn’t have come. Maybe you’ve just put them in worse danger. “I just need to stretch my legs a minute.”

“Um, we’ve literally been walking all day?” Mari calls after you. 

When you’re pretty sure you’re out of sight you break into a sprint, until the breath burns in your lungs and you stumble to your knees. You don’t get far – between the hike and rationing what little food you brought, you don’t have the stamina. You just needed to run until you couldn’t anymore, the same way you sometimes used to steal a pillow from the cabin and scream into it. At some point during winter you reconciled yourself with the fact you were going to die out here and all the fear and rage and longing kind of froze over inside you. Now because of him they’re thawing. It hurts. 

You take a few minutes to calm down, before you head back. The trees are so thick it’s easy to feel like you’re the only person here. They also, apparently, make it very easy for someone who knows how to be quiet to sneak up on you. 

“You can stay mad if you want,” Kodiak tells you, grabbing your arm as though he’s afraid you’ll bolt again. “Whatever: it’s cute. But you do not just run off.”

You try to jerk away but he’s too fast: he catches you around the middle and shoves you into a tree trunk so he can keep you pinned. It’s covered in moss so thick it’s like sinking into shaggy green fur. For all you know, nobody else has ever been here. The two of you could be the first people ever to see this tree. Maybe the last too. 

“You realise there could be wolves out here?” He shakes you a little for emphasis and you realise you might actually have scared him a little.

“Whatever.” You try to wrench free. It doesn’t work: he’s too strong and too pissed to let you. You settle for glaring at him instead. “We’ve faced wolves before.”

“And how’d that work out for you?”

You’re hit with the memory of teeth; of half of Van’s face hanging off; of holding her down while the others sewed it up, your hands so slippery with blood you could hardly keep your grip, your sobs blending with her screams. 

“I thought I was addicted to danger?” you spit back at him. “What do you care?”

You shove as hard as you can and manage to almost stagger him. Almost. 

“Drop the teenage bullshit.” Kodiak leans down to snarl directly into your face. “You made yourself my problem when you begged me to get you off this mountain.”

Everything is so dangerous out here – even more now you’ve fled your makeshift village – that you forget he’s dangerous too. You’d bested him before but only because your teammates had him outnumbered. Out here it’s just you and him. 

You know the sensible thing to do would be to apologise, quietly go back with him, and keep giving him whatever he wants once the others are asleep. But you’re not ready to swallow your pride just yet, so you do what you did last time he was threatening you and drag him down into a kiss. 

There’s no hesitation this time. He grabs a handful of your shirt and pulls you up onto your tiptoes, so hard the worn fabric rips. You try to pull away, knowing you’ll have to explain to the others, but he follows you backwards, slamming you back into the tree trunk. Kodiak picks you up by your thighs, lifting you so you’re on a level with him and using his bodyweight to keep you pinned in place. You feel a thrill at how easily he moves you, somewhere between fear and desire. 

“You going to try this every time you lose a fight?” He speaks the words almost into your mouth, his voice rough. His breathing is fast but nowhere near as ragged as your own. He doesn’t give you chance to answer him before he’s kissing you again. 

You hadn’t planned beyond distracting him. His thigh is planted between yours; the seam of your jeans presses into you with a friction that makes it hard to think. You don’t want him to stop. He slides a hand under your torn shirt, to your breast and you bite down on a whimper, afraid the others will hear. 

Shit! The thought of the others is like being doused in freezing water. You turn your head to break the kiss and Kodiak follows you, forcing you to twist away from him until your cheek is pressed flat against the moss covered bark. 

“Wait. We’ve been gone too long.”

Kodiak goes in to press a kiss to your lips, feathering more across your jaw. “I’m starting to think you get off on sneaking around.”

“Oh sure. I love hiking in layers to cover the marks you left, trying to pretend I’m not sore from last night…”

The way Kodiak smirks, you’re pretty sure he took that as a compliment. You plant your hands on his chest and try to push him. 

“Well you weren’t complaining at the time.” He grabs your wrists and pins them either side of your head. “And we both know I could have been a lot rougher.”

His voice is heavy with promise. Despite yourself, you turn to face him. 

“I don’t think you appreciate how frustrating it is, holding myself back around you,” he tells you, his voice low and soft. “And I mean, last night: you did kind of owe me.”

There’s a metallic click. You’d know it anywhere: the sound of the rifle’s safety being switched off. You turn and face the absolutely worst person who could be pointing a gun at you right now.

“What the fuck do you mean she owes you?”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. If you enjoyed it please tell me: it's what keeps me going. I'm working on two more request fills, which should be out shortly. To everyone who sent in a request: thank you for being patient I will get to it. To everyone else, requests are still open but it may take a while.

[landmineconfessional]

I'm really sorry if this is long or doesn't make a lot of sense but I just have some thoughts about the community that I have gotten hate for previously and I just need to vent. You don't have to post this if you don't want to, and anyone who wants to read or not is okay. Don't take anything too seriously or personally please I'm not talking about anyone in particular.

I'm older I'm 28 so I know I don't fit in very well, but I grew up on tumblr and I have found myself becoming more and more disillusioned with this community lately to the point where I'm not sure why I'm still here. I think I'm just sticking around out of concern at this point. Its hard. There are very solid and good arguments for having a space where you can talk about your unhealthy coping mechanisms or lifestyle and not be judged. It's almost like a form of therapy, and especially if people can give you advice on how to stay safer while doing these things it can be really helpful. At the same time though I've noticed that a lot of this seems quite performative in this community. Much so as in the early 2000s on this website with the proana community romanticizing specifically anorexia to the point that people would very commonly post prayers to Ana. It became almost like a religion or cult within itself. I don't think it's at that point yet and I know thats a bit of an extreme metaphor but I do think that a lot of the eds and sh and alcoholism is almost becoming competitive on here. Ive seen people answer asks about how to cut deeper or things of that nature which is alarming to me. Im really torn. I want people to have a space, but I also have the foresight as an adult to know that this space is hurting them mentally because I'm older. People think I'm an asshole when I say that the teenagers on jiraiblr will grow up and realize that the community really fucked them up but I fully and truly believe that. A lot of older people who were on things like myproana or sh forums grew up and realized those forums made things worse for us and made it harder for us to recover and told us repeatedly its okay to never recover you dont have to recover. But this idea that its okay not to ever recover came back to bite us. Im torn. I think that it is kind of shitty to force people to recover and I think its shitty to say people can't do anything but post recovery content, but on the other hand once we reached the ages of around 23-27 on the ED forum... I watched a lot of my friends cling to their mental illnesses and it killed them. I watched the friends I had been counting calories with have heart complications and experience heart attacks at the age of 24. I watched the friends I had been sharing bodychecks with reach a point in their life where they could not do anything. They desperately wanted to be able to get a job and live their life and do what they wanted but their illnesses had become so bad that they could not do these things, some of them were hospitalized repeatedly, some of them had to live with their parents into their 30s, some of them desperately wanted to recover and had reached a point where they just couldn't and they withered away. I had a friend that I was talking to one night they were self harming and they told me that they were, and I did too at the time so I jokingly told them to send me photos. She severed a nerve and shortly after killed herself after coming to the full realization that she had taken away her own ability to use her hand.

Its just very sad and it hurts me to see this and I worry for the kids here. Especially the ones who run the kangel or ame blogs and try their best to play that role. I know at first they're being hyperbolic and trying to play that role, but over time that's going to become part of their daily speak and it's going to hurt them. "Fake it until you make it" works in both directions.

I dont know just I guess... know that if no one else I care about you and I worry about you and... I guess that's it. Sorry this is so jumbled

[julesdaydreams]

@wolfstarmicrofic II may 2 - sir II word count: 1380

CW: age gap (both consenting adults) NSFW - suggestive imigary but nothing actually happing other than heavy flirting and teasing, enjoy! I tried to make this under 1k words, but I'm very bad at keeping it mini, sorry

“Next week, we’ll be discussing the themes of race, class, and gender in the works of Emily Chopin. Please read the texts I provided you with online and don’t hesitate to contact me if you have any questions. Have a great weekend.” Remus ended his last lecture for the day, turning around when his students started eagerly leaving the lecture hall.

It’s been a long week, his joints aching from standing too long without the help of his cane (because he refused to use it at university. He was in his mid-thirties, not mid-sixties, alright?). He sat down in his chair at the desk, sighing as his hip popped and the ache subsided a bit. He couldn’t wait to get home and take a long, hot bath.

He was focused on gathering his belongings, shutting down his laptop when a smooth low voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you have a moment?”

Remus closed his eyes for a brief moment. He knew that voice all too well. Sirius Black had made his job a living hell the moment he had stepped into his classroom this semester. Twirling his silky black hair as he watched Remus like a hawk in his sessions. Bright grey eyes looking all so innocent, even though Remus knew it was all just an act. Clothes always just a bit too tight, teasing him, making him imagine ripping the offending garment right off of the younger man.

Even worse, Black was attentive, one of his best students, really. Always asking the right questions at the right time, head slightly tilted as he hung onto Remus’ every word as he answered, making him stutter whenever the other bit his bottom lip in concentration.

But Remus was a professional. And he wouldn’t let beautiful twenty-something-year-olds ruin him or his career. So he ignored the other man to the best of his ability.

That plan seemed to work right up until a few weeks ago when the student had decided to make it nearly impossible to ignore him, by approaching Remus after classes, or in the hallway when they crossed paths, or Remus’ office during his open office hours, invading the small and quiet space with his sultry voice and boisterous laugh.

Black always had an excuse, too. Asking about an assignment, or if Remus could elaborate on a topic he had broached in one of his lectures. But what started innocent, quickly turned into dangerous territory: Black asking about his personal life.

He asked if he had a wife, or husband (no, and Remus knew the question was redundant anyway, seeing as he had no ring on his finger - and since Sirius had been eyeing his hands for quite some time, he must have noticed as much).

The next time, he asked if Remus liked to read books in his free time or if he just did so for his lectures, and what kind of books he liked reading most. The next day, a first edition of his favourite novel lay on his office desk with a neatly written note on top, swirly initials in the bottom right corner ~S.O.B.

Remus had stared at the book for entirely too long, debating giving it back (technically he wasn’t allowed to accept gifts from his students. Bribery and all that.), but he couldn’t get himself to part from it, so he took it home instead.

Save to say, Sirius Black had managed to weasel himself into every crook of Remus’ brain and life and it was driving the professor insane, to the point that every interaction with the younger man had him reeling, threatening to boil over and do something irreparable to his career.

He willed himself to prolong the inevitable and not let it be the interaction he was currently in, but a different one in the future.

When he looked up and into hooded grey eyes, lined with charcoal and sparkling with a hint of mischief, Remus doubted his ability to keep things professional once more.

“What can I help you with, Mr. Black?” he asked, voice coming out much clearer than he thought he could manage at the sight of the other man.

Black smirked in that way of his that said he had Remus exactly where he wanted him. Wrapped around his little finger.

The student leaned against the desk, stretching out his long legs clad in infuriatingly tight leather pants that Remus wanted to peel off desperately. He tilted his head, silky hair falling to his side and revealing the pale and smooth skin of his neck that Remus dreamed about marking up.

He was well and truly fucked. Black clearly decided he had toyed with Remus enough and it was time to attack.

“I was wondering… what someone like you might do on a Friday night? I could see you enjoying a hot bath, maybe with a nice book, relaxing those muscles you got, you know? Or maybe you’d surprise me and go to a pub or bar? Drink one or more beers, take a nice bloke home with you. One with long black hair, legs for days, porcelain skin that you would take your time marking up with your mouth. You’re a gentle lover, aren’t you, professor? You’d know how to take care of a guy like me.”

Remus swallowed. Not once had Black been this straightforward with him, painting an image in Remus’ head that he desperately wished was reality. He worked his jaw, eyes scanning over the room to make sure that the rest of his students were truly gone, before carefully crafting his answer.

However, whatever was about to come out of his mouth died at the tip of his tongue when Black shifted slightly, revealing black ink under the collar of his shirt.

Remus snapped.

One moment he sat on his chair, the next, he was looming over his student, arms on each side of the other man, palms resting on the dark wood, bodies so close, Remus could smell Sirius’ shampoo and it made Remus’ professionality crumble like a house of cards. Their faces were closer than ever and Remus smirked when he heard the other man take in a sharp breath.

“I don’t know what games you’re playing here, Mr. Black.” He spoke lowly into the student’s ear, revelling in the way it made him shudder. “But I can assure you, I’m everything but gentle in bed. And you would be wise not to test me. Are we clear?”

Remus leaned back just a bit, looking into wide and lustful eyes and it made him hot all over.

This was it. This was the moment that could change everything and Remus wished - hoped - Black would make the right choice and leave. Take the threat as it was and run for the hills.

Of course, the student had never left him alone and he wouldn’t start now. Black’s tongue darted out, wetting his lower lip and Remus had suppressed a groan at the sight.

“I think you’re all bark and no bite, sir. You couldn’t hurt a fly.” Again, that infuriating smirk, Remus wanted to see it crumble, wanted to shut up that smart mouth and make it useful for once. See it wrapped around-

He was getting ahead of himself. Again.

He raised his hand and tilted Black’s head up slightly, watching hungrily as his throat bobbed.

“Tonight. 8 pm. The Three Broomsticks. I’ll show you just how gentle I can be... if you’re up for it.” He gave the other man’s thigh a tight squeeze, before stepping back, grabbing his bag, and walking out of the lecture hall with wide steps, forcing himself not to turn around and take the other man right then and there over the desk and show him what happened when you provoked your professor too much.

No. That could wait for another day. First, he had to get ready for tonight. And he already had lots of ideas on how to make Sirius Black regret ever thinking he could win this little game of theirs.

Fuck being professional.

[florida3exclamationpoints]

@secretcrazy

Ok the parent one: he was going on a rant about how college should literally be the most important thing in all of our lives. Live breathe eat sleep college nothing else matters. But then ig he caught himself and he was like "well if you have kids then your kids come first. I can't even imagineeeee omg bc college is like basically just as important as your kids and probably actually more important 🧐 good luck lollll I mean I have so much admiration for parents in school 🙏 probably . or something. Anyway if you don't prioritize my cooking classes above everything else in your life (*except children ig) then I will kill you personally" skdhskdnsk

Im gonna try to be as word for word accurate as possible for this one: "I love that all the students in this class are women. The culinary industry is a very male dominated field but we're seeing more and more women coming in and i love that. And I just want to help all my female students. Bc you know... [this is where I'm fuzzy on specifics but it had just been in the news that a famous chef Mario Batali was really creepy and abusive to his female employees and also stole his waiters' tips i think? I didn't read about it much but he had been on food network and then it came out that he was super gross and awful. So he said like all that stuff about Mario Batali just came out....] and I want to teach my female students not to take crap like that. To be strong enough to stand up to jerks like that." ...... 👍😀👍

The one about the industry being abusive and it is what it is was mostly all that was really said on his side if not in so many words. But the thing that really got me about it was another chef had just told us like. Days before. That the culinary industry is abusive. And he's seen it and it sucks. And he doesn't want to send us into that environment. And we are the next generation of chefs and it is up to us to break the cycle and be better managers and it was really important to him to teach us to be better. Instead of just going along with it bc that's how it is. And then Head Chef Man was like. Working in kitchens SUCKS and you will be MISERABLE and I NEVER SLEEP and people will YELL AT YOU and THROW STUFF AROUND THE KITCHEN and its NOT FOR THE WEAK because it's TERRIBLE but I LOVE SCREAMING AT PEOPLE so i think it's kinda cool actually!! GET USED TO IT NOW!!! I WILL MAKE YOU GET USED TO IT NOW!!! IF YOUR MENTOR CALLS YOU A DUMBASS YOU'LL NEVER EXPECT YOUR EMPLOYER TO BE NICE AND YOU SHOULDN'T BECAUSE CHEFS ARE MEAN!!!!!!!! To be so for real that other chef should have been the program head. He had more experience and had worked in the industry more recently and was a Better Person. And he told us that he was more qualified and he would run the program very differently. I really wish he did.

(The Gordon Ramsey and Bobby Flay one is so funny to me bc like lol of course. I'm sure this man thinks its so funny to watch Gordon Ramsey cursing people out over potatoes. The thing is tho that Gordon Ramsey isn't actually Like That. It's a character. But it's not a funny character because behavior like that shouldn't be normalized. And Bobby Flay ISNT EVEN THAT TALENTED PLEASE. If you watch Beat Bobby Flay it's just him stroking his ego by having his friends compliment him and GOD FORBID someone actually Beats Bobby Flay 😭 the only thing he does is make things SPICY . That's not talent. That's not even a flavor. I think he thinks he's a special white man who knows what spice is.)

And the docking points ones go together. So we had to taste everything. And if we didn't then it docks points. Which i understand to a degree bc yes you have to taste your food and you have to be familiar with flavors and people could be like "oh I don't like tomatoes :/" and would miss a lot if they just didn't eat whatever wasn't particularly appealing to them. Fine. You could get around this if you were allergic to something AND had a doctor's note. Well. Again I get it to a point like if someone is vegetarian just because they want to be then they made that choice to not eat something and I can understand docking points for that. But religious beliefs???? I questioned that when I saw it in the rules but I don't have any religious food restrictions so I didn't think about it that much but then I was in class with someone who was Muslim. And he said he wouldn't eat pork one day. And this man was like "ok. Well you know you'll lose points for that. Are you sure you want to lose points for that? Fine. But don't be surprised when you lose points for that." And he kept going on about it in front of the whole class like dude !!! He was trying to break him down!!! And I'm so glad it didn't work and he stood up to him but I can't believe it cost him lab points oh my god (also this kid was 16!!! I was 17 and I wasn't the youngest!!!). But the cheese one actually happened to me. So I knew you're supposed to have a doctor's note for allergies but I didn't think I had any food allergies so I didn't bother. Well we're going around tasting a bunch of different cheeses. And we get to the blue cheese. And he says the Blue part is penicillin. Bruh i am allergic to penicillin. I knew it was mold but I didn't know it was penicillin. So when it got to me I was like uhh did you say penicillin? And he said yes. And I said I'm allergic to penicillin. And he said ok do you have a doctor's note? And I said no. And he said well you know all allergies have to have a doctor's note. And I said yeah but I didn't know it was a food allergy. I thought it was just a medicine allergy. Oh my god when I said that. The way he looked at me. Like I was the dumbest person alive. Like he couldn't comprehend that level of stupidity. And then he said ok well you can eat it or you can lose points. (Mind you. At this time I had already gotten low lab grades from him bc he didn't like how quiet i was. So i wasn't trying to lower my grade even more. He also didn't say how many points it would cost so I didn't know what I was wagering here.) A very nice person next to me said her husband was also allergic to penicillin and didn't know that blue cheese was the same and he was always fine eating it. So I got the tiniest amount imaginable and avoided any Blue part of the Blue Cheese. Bc i was scared. And it immediately felt all tingly on my tongue . like pins and needles from that tiny amount. So I wonder how much blue cheese it would take to send me into anaphylactic shock!! That would've been funny SKDHSKDHSK

*paraphrasing bc character limit but I am not exaggerating the gist. You can ask for the full story if you want 😭😭

[doomed-era]

dude this is so funny

[icewindandboringhorror]

I'm so heavily anti-advertising that all pitches sound goofy silly to me/I can never take them seriously, so I have no idea how I'll manage to to advertise my game even if I do finally finish it soon-ish lol...

[dawdlecentric]

Man, this doujin isn't fucking around

Meanwhile, Seikuri in the background...

Doujin: Flashbackers by Totobe

[sp1resong]

now that i'm done having an identity crisis i've gotta say i'm kind of amused by how many times it just entirely lost the plot. like. i went from 'okay but like what is my personality. who am i just as a person' to 'genuinely how would i know if i'm plural i dont think i am but How Would I Know' to 'WHAT IS THE FUNDAMENTAL NATURE OF THE (alter)HUMAN SOUL. &WHAT IS MINE'. like. girl

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

My mom just sent a message to the family group chat suggesting that my siblings download the 'For the Strength of Youth' magazine on their Gospel Library app and talked about how much the youth magazines helped her testimony growing up and like, cool. Fine. Don't know why the 'sending random spiritual thoughts in the gc' thing started out of nowhere when it hadn't been a thing for a decade but this is just another one of those, and you're ofc allowed to talk about things that are significant in your life.

I don't think sending the 'What I Did When Someone Close to Me Challenged My Faith' article right afterwards was strictly necessary though 🙃

[vaspider]

Listen to me. Listen very carefully:

They are trying to wear you out.

They are trying to wear you out, and they own most major social media now, along with many major media outlets. The disinformation machine is cranking along. You are going to have to slow the fuck down and read things before you help them wear out other people, too.

So you just saw a post about a real scary bill, hunh? Republicans want to make it a capital offense to pet dogs and repeal The Sky Is Blue Act of 1793, declaring the new official color of the sky to be squant? Damn, that sounds scary.

Let's go look up this fictitious "Make The Sky Squant Again Act" on GovTracker* & on the official legislative tracker on congress.gov!

Well, let's see... GovTracker estimates it has a 1% chance of even getting out of committee and a 0% chance of being enacted, while congress.gov says this bill has 2 cosponsors who have been in the House and combined total of less than a month. The bill doesn't have any actual text, and it was referred to 5 different committees.

That fictitious bill and a hundred others like it are quite literally not worth your time, and more than that, continuing to wring your hands about it and tell other people about the scary scary squant sky bill only does their work for them. It scares people, it makes them spend time and energy on it, and it wears them out. It is a legislative Gish Gallop, meant to throw so many things at people that we can't keep up.

Even calling or messaging your Rep in this case means their staffer has to waste time responding to you and letting you know that Representative Buttzonheads definitely won't support making petting dogs a capital offense, a thing that will never, ever happen regardless.

Staying engaged in this environment is going to require protecting your heart and protecting your energy, yes, but also protecting the energy of others. This is why WWII propaganda posters also included ones taking people to task for spreading panicky rumors and undermining morale.

Do you know why most observant Jews don't eat chicken and dairy together, even though the ban is on red meat and dairy together bc you're not supposed to cook the calf in the milk of its mother?** It's not because we think that chicken might secretly lactate or Just Because. It's because the rabbis decided that if I'm sitting out in public and eating turkey and cheese together, someone might glance at the turkey and mistake it for red meat and think, "oh, well, I know that Spider is a good Jew, there must have been a change, or maybe I can just justify it to myself that if Spider does it, it must be permissible to bend the rules just that much." And I would then be accidentally leading my fellow Jew astray. We are responsible for being even more careful for the sake of others than we are for ourselves.

It's the same principle here. We need to really be careful about the information we are spreading and check things past reading a news site. Is it true? Is it relevant? Is it meaningful? Is the news site one I recognize? Can I find meaningful independent corroboration on another site, which is to say, if I find an article about it on a second site, is it just quoting or rephrasing this site?

Yeah, that is a lot. But that's how we keep them from using us to lead our fellows astray.

*GovTracker is an independent site. They explain their methodology in their About section.

**I cannot say enough how I am not at this time interested in going on a Jewish Side Quest About Dietary Laws on this post. Usually, I love it, but hold off this time, please, y'all. Let's stay on target this once.

[business-as-usual-bats]

Idk if anyone else remembers, but Batman canonically carries around Bat-cookies according to the Batman/Scooby-Doo crossover.

I LOVE to think Batman carries them around as snacks for Robin. I love it even more to think he uses said cookies to bribe Robin into good behavior in a similar fashion to Scooby Snacks.

Little Dick Grayson: I don't wanna go to some stupid Gala! U can't make me!

Bruce, in desperation: would u do it for a bat-cookie?

Dick: woah! Bat-shaped! Cool!

Bruce: andddd you can have another one after the party

Dick, mouth full of cookie: okay :)

Bruce, internally: thank fuck a parenting hack that works

Batman: stop! Don't kill him!

Red Hood: and why do I give a fuck what you-

Batman: would u spare his life for a Bat-cookie?

Red Hood:

Red Hood: I'm not a kid anymore-

Batman: they're fresh, look, still warm

Red Hood: ...

Red Hood: this works ONCE. This ONE time. Gimme that damn cookie.

Batman: of course

Red Hood: Fuck I've missed these what the hell does Alfred put in em

Bruce: go to sleep, Tim

Tim: I'm almost done-

Bruce: go to sleep now and you can have a bat-cookie

Tim: a what?

Bruce: a bat-cookie. See? Here, first taste is free. Try it.

Tim: bribery? Really?

Bruce: positive reinforcement

Tim: giving me treats like I'm some kind of dog?

Bruce: try it and then we'll debate the ethics

Tim [eats cookie]:

Tim:

Tim: okay

Bruce: Okay?

Tim: if I promise to sleep a full 8 hours I want two more and a glass of milk

Bruce: u drive a hard bargain but I accept

Dick: aw, c'mon, Damian. One picture. For me, to remember your first day of high school. Do it for a bat-cookie?

Damian: -tt- I've heard of these so-called "bat-cookies" Insulting. I am not a child. I refuse to participate in such an asinine tradition.

Dick: shame. Alfred made animal-friendly ones so you can share with Ace and Batcow. I guess they don't get any treats either, then

Damian: well

Damian: since it would please you so very much, I will overlook this patronizing lapse in judgment

Damian [tries one bite of cookie]:

Damian:

Damian: given Batcows higher food intake requirements, I will require at least a dozen.

Damian [takes another bite]: perhaps two dozen

Duke: you agree I did a good job today?

Bruce: yes? I suppose. Earlier, when you stopped that-

Duke: shut it. Don't care. Cookie me.

Bruce: excuse me?

Duke: I know about the cookies, old man. You've been holding out on me. The cat's out of the bag. I did a good job, I get a cookie. That's how it works, right?

Bruce: uh well

Bruce: that was a long time ago

Bruce: i had to discontinue that method after-

Duke: are you saying I'm not a valid member of this family because I was never Robin?

Bruce: of course you are! But I don't have any on me-

Duke: don't. Lie. To. Me.

Bruce: Okay! Okay. You're right, I'm sorry. Here, take it. Just... do me a favor, and don't go announcing to the whole cave you got-

Duke: YES. MY FIRST BAT-COOKIE! SCORE!

Every batmember in the vicinity: BAT-COOKIES ARE BACK????

Bruce: NO! stay back! Stay back you animals! Alfred! Alfred! It's happening again-

Alfred, sighing: I'll preheat the oven, sir

[unknownersirius]

My husbandos change frequently.

It's like I have a husbando of the month.

Currently it's Cooler.

I would apologize but I don't think I'm very sorry.