#either way it was FULL of the above and more

[do-you-have-a-flag]

text of the above screenshots:

Some further clarification about things people were asking in the comments.

Tina spoke fluent English without an accent. She's either native or has been speaking it since very young.

We'd also spoken early that morning when she arrived, over the phone (woke me up where I was sleeping upstairs, but whatever, I'd rather too much communication than too little), because she wanted to clarify about the squash. She specifically acknowledged the concept of squash, and asked if it was near the kale she was seeing. I said that sounded right, and that it should be labeled. She said okay. I reminded her that if she couldn't find it, to ask my roommate for help.

The rats were on the top shelf of our freezer-top fridge so that you'd have to be leaning down to even see it, and no kale would be in its vicinity. Three people live in this house, so it's always full. Lots of options if you're gonna go rogue.

She didn't know I had snakes, unless she'd seen them in their bins in the living room, which is possible (it looks like a filling cabinet with clear plastic drawers and sometimes they come to the front). They're very quiet pets and don't even count with my landlord, so sometimes I forget to mention them when people ask about pets, as they usually are asking due to allergy concerns. So when the agency asked, I was focused on our cats. They know now, of course. But Tina had no reason to think she should be preparing a pet's meal. That was never established as something among her duties when I met with her and an agency nurse the day before to go over everything.

Also, snakes can't eat cooked meat, even if it's safely prepared. It will make them sick. So they could not still be used.

The discovery: storytime

If you want to see video evidence: investigation

UPDATE (added here since the sub automod was being weird):

Apologies for the late update. As I’m sure you can imagine, the last week was exhausting.

This is just to give what closure I can and go over how my last conversation with Tina went, the day after the incident.

When I was on my way to the cafe to escape the house last Tuesday, she actually texted me with an apology, saying “I’m so sorry, I feel so stupid and bad, this never happened before,” and offering to pay me back for the rats and the dish as I had mentioned the rats were expensive. Which is honestly more than I was expecting, but, “never happened before?” Well I sure fucking hope so! Though that begs the question, why now? Why me? I don’t know if there’s a good answer.

We agreed that she could come by the next day in the evening with the money ($15 for the rats, $30 for the dish). She declined doing Venmo or something similar. Possibly didn’t know how to use things like that, since I estimate by her comment of her grandson being my age, she had to be at minimum in her late 60s, probably older. I admit I was hesitant to have her return to the scene of the crime when it was still so unclear what her motivations had truly been, but I wouldn’t be home alone, and she had seemed sincerely contrite, if a bit defensive over the degree of my outrage.

Before the appointed time, she called me to tell me she was on her way, and then made, of all things, a request of me. She would be bringing by her time sheet, and could I sign for the two days she’d been there? I was baffled. The audacity of asking me a favor when our meeting was about her making amends, claiming that her time with me should count as doing her job, AND implying that her paying me back was to get something from me. Maybe that was why she wanted to do cash?

But at this point, I just wanted the whole thing over and done with, and it’s not like I was the one who’d be paying her, just my insurance. It was also confusing because…did that mean that she was still employed?? Surely if she’d been fired, she’d be less willing to play nice with me, would probably be blaming me more for how it affected her. At the very least, she seemed like the kind of person who would bring it up to make me feel a little bad. But maybe she wouldn’t, I don’t know. It was also strange because out of the three (now four) HHAs I’ve had at two different companies, none have ever asked me to sign a timesheet for them. Maybe some of y’all more familiar with the inner workings of these companies can shed some light here.

I was nervous when she showed up. There's something about seeing someone do something so truly unhinged that shatters the basic trust that this fellow human won’t do something else crazy, maybe something more harmful than running one out of the house. So I checked her hands through the window before I opened the door. She had two plastic bags half-full and bundled up to hide their contents under each arm. Strange choice for a weapon, so I chose faith.

There was no more apology upon greeting, she mostly just seemed in a hurry, civil but brusque, like she wanted this behind her as much as I did. While she was rummaging, I asked how she’d disposed of the dish (the follow-up to I made a video about linked in the original post if you want to see, you sickos). And as expected, the first thing she brought out was her timesheet. Sure enough, there was a place for patient signature, and as I took it and the proffered pen and set it against the doorframe to sign, I said, “We said $45, right?” just to confirm.

The look she gave me as she reached into her jacket was SO offended, and her civility evaporated. Like I was questioning her word, and how dare I. “I’m gonna pay you, I said I would.” Calm down, paranoid, was the tone.

It took all my self-control not to respond with, “You also said you’d cook the squash.” Like, yeah, lady, wonder why I would want to triple check anything we agreed to at this point. My bad.

But she did in fact hand me the wad of bills (after I’d handed back the timesheet and she’d checked it), and then she left in a bit of a huff. I just told her to take care of herself to her back.

At this point, after interacting with her again, I am of the opinion that this was simply from some form of psychosis, either a mental health thing or senility, I don’t know. Even talking to her, things were just a little off. Hard to describe, but it was like part of her attention was always somewhere else. I do not believe this was malicious or “weaponized incompetence” as many were saying in the Tik Tok comments. She had nothing to gain from this, and clearly she wants to keep her job. At this point, after the shock and horror has worn off, I just feel kind of bad for her. She clearly shouldn’t be in this profession (which, btw, she said she’s been in for thirty years??), so I more blame these companies for not being more thorough in their hiring and training process. Psych evals should be par for the course, surely.

And I know I probably shouldn’t have, it’s none of my business, but it was eating at my conscience to not express my concern. Because I don’t know what’s going on in her life. When it comes to things like reality breaks and changes in behavior, it can be really hard to see for ourselves, and maybe the people in her life aren’t saying anything, and so she’s not seeking the help she needs. So I texted her a little while after she left.

I thanked her for taking responsibility, acknowledged I was butting in, and then brought up how she said this had never happened before and how she’d seemed confused about how it happened. And that if this was a new kind of thing or there’d been other weird things happening, it might be a good idea to talk to a doctor, just in case something else is going on that needs to be addressed, as gently and non-judgmentally as I could think to say. And I ended it with “But if I’m way off base and out of line, and you’re just used to people eating like that, I apologize and wish you the best.” After a day of silence, she sent two texts, copied here:

“K thank you people make mistakes”

“God bless have a good day”

That was and I’m sure will remain the last I heard from her. I’m sorry I can’t recount some detailed confession about how it had all been a nefarious plot by some vengeful ex who’d had their aunt impersonate an aide to poison me. That would have made for a much more satisfying story.

As for my current aide situation, I’m still working with the replacement they sent to me, but have already requested a new one. She’s sane and competent, but alas, it would seem she much exaggerated her English fluency to my coordinator (who sounded resigned to such a deceit). In any other service context, I wouldn’t care, we have translator apps, but I think we’ve seen how critical clear and easy communication can be when one person is relying on another to meet their needs while sick. Others have told me how long it can take to find a good fit, so I guess I’ll just have to keep spinning the revolving door until I do.

Also, I have put in a request for the agency to reimburse me the takeout I had to get myself that day. And the oven has been cleaned and sanitized to within an inch of its life and seems okay now? I dunno, asking for a replacement or suing anyone seems like a lot of hassle (especially when I already have a medical malpractice case in the works).

Thank you to everyone for taking an interest in my harrowing experience and for your support. It legitimately turned this into something more light hearted that I can laugh at now, where it would have remained traumatic otherwise.

May your squash always be squash.

§ § ----==---- [🐀🐀🐀]

Text recounting of the full events below but oh my god please watch this person explain the wildest thing happening to them

[image text]r/trueoffmychest post by CptnSpaceCase

Today my aide cooked what should not be cooked

I have to get this out, because today feels like an actual nightmare I keep expecting to wake up from.

I'm disabled, and need help with stuff around the house. Today was the second day with a new agency and new home health aide, "Tina." I set it up so she would come by in the morning while I'm sleeping (insomnia is killer), and I texted her last night what I would need done today.

One of those things was to roast some precut squash I'd gotten so I could have it with my salads and pasta. I was very clear in my instructions: what it looked like, where it was in the fridge, how to use the oven, how to cook it. I also have a roommate who was up and told her she could ask them for help if she couldn't find anything. Or come get me if truly necessary.

Now, I have three pet ball pythons. They eat rats that I thaw from frozen in the fridge in a reusable plastic bag. Yes, that's where I'm going with this.

Tina couldn't find the squash, and so, obviously, that meant she should roast the first other thing she could see that was technically also encased in plastic, in a completely different area of the fridge. The FUCKING RATS. In butter and salt, in my nice baking dish.

And like, that's insane all on its own, but if you're going to cook any animal, you should at least clean and skin it first, right??? Like, do the crazy, disgusting thing properly so I can respect the effort, instead of sticking them in as is. Fur and guts and all.

And the smell. Good God baby Jesus the SMELL. It woke me up and had me gagging the moment I opened my bedroom door. Definitely not squash. Or food-smelling for that matter. At first I thought the squash had spontaneously rotted overnight and she'd tried to cook it anyway. That would have been slightly less insane and much preferable.

I had to pull it out of her what she was cooking instead when she said she couldn't find it (it was in plain sight), had to open the oven and see my snakes' dinners in place of my own and still couldn't process what the fuck was happening, what I was looking at and smelling. I don't like yelling at people and generally avoid it. Today was a day for exceptions. And at the end of my half-crazed, dissociative rant, I told her to get the whole dish and its contents and herself out of the fucking house. And to not come back.

Suffice to say, I've contacted the agency to report it and am requesting a new aide. Now I'm sitting at a cafe trying to calm down and eat something despite the scent memory that's taken up permanent residence and turning my stomach. The whole house reeks like musty, sewage-dipped pork that had been left out for a whole day before being cooked in rancid oil, and I'm not sure Febreeze is gonna cut it. I don't want to go home. 🫠😭

[the-gay-trashmouth]

I think something that's bothers me about how folks talk about mouthwashing is how they talk about Swansea. It's either "Swansea would have killed Jimmy immediately if Anya had told him" or "he knew and he did nothing just like curly." because, to me at least it leaves out a lot of nuance to his character and situation. Curly and Swansea are really good foils to each other, one who's got a reputation for being the kind and helpful captain but in the end does nothing to truly protect the crew from Jimmy, and one who's gruff, harsh, and cruel but genuinely tries to help in the background, the reliable mechanic.

(read more for a long Mouthwashing character ramble tw for unwanted pregnancy and SA)

Because Curly is the one with the power. He doesn't take what Jimmy did seriously enough. And you can say that he might not have known fully what Jimmy did, but I think the "I told you" pregnancy conversation and his reaction to Jimmy right before the crash ("come on we'll get through this together. We'll figure it out, you've had hard times before-") are indicators that he knew, but he still chose to stick by his friend and treat it like a "mistake" rather than what it really was.

Now that's my own personal speculation of course, there's no outright scene of her telling him "your best friend assaulted me", but I think there's enough evidence in game through Anya and Curlys interactions to say that he knew, and he knew before Anaya knew she was pregnant. He had a fully functioning ship and four fully functional cryo-pods. He could have at least given Anya more security, kept her far away from him, and at most forced him into the cryopod until they got back to earth. Jimmy STILL had full, uncontrolled access to the cockpit AFTER his freakout with curly. AFTER Anya tells curly she doesn't feel safe with him. AFTER Curly finds out he raped Anya. He's so focused on seeing the good in his friend that he does NOTHING to protect Anya, doesn't strip away not one of Jimmy powers as copilot and consequently endangers her and the rest of the crew.

Curly was the captain, he had the power to relegate Jimmy to the fucking storage closet if he really wanted, at least put him in the cryopod until they got back to earth. In fact, he was the only person above Jimmy in terms of rank on the ship, but he chose to do nothing. He chose to let Jimmy continue as acting co-pilot, chose to comfort him rather than actually confront him. Slides off his weird sexual comments as jokes "So what's this about horses?"

Now let's compare that to Swansea, the mechanic.

We don't have any evidence that Swansea knew about what Jimmy did until after the crash ("it's been her telling me things") where they were trapped with no captain, barely any rations, and a single cryopod that he kept hidden away in the one room he had the key too (and the only room that could lead into medbay). He didn't use it for himself, he makes it clear he didn't intend on getting off this hunk of metal in his last few conversations with Jimmy.

Swansea as the ship's mechanic, was used to fixing things in the background. He didn't need to get along with anyone to keep the ship running, he didn't need people to like him to keep them safe. We see that with Daisuke. He's harsh on him, for sure, but he leaves constant notes to help him learn. Genuinely tries to keep him out of harm's way when it comes to more dangerous jobs. We know Anya was scared of Jimmy getting a weapon, she hid the gun case in the medical bay even knowing she would never get it open. We can see Swansea and Anya off on their own towards the first days after the crash, and Swansea still has a tight grip of the axe weeks and months later.

I personally think that was him trying to keep Jimmy from having access to a weapon. The only time Jimmy gets the axe while Swansea is alive is when Anya Specifically asks him to use it to get medical supplies. I don't think that's a coincidence.

Swansea, like any good mechanic, was quietly trying to keep things running out of Jimmy's sight. It's not until everyone is dead or dying that he snaps, that he finally takes direct action. But it was too little too late.

Both Curly and Swansea thought they were doing the right thing, helping in their own way. Curly genuinely wanted to see the good in Jimmy, wanted it to just be some challenge they could overcome, but in doing so he failed to see the monster right in front of him. He had all the power (in context of the crew, the company is a whole other can of worms I have so many other thoughts on), but he was too afraid to use it. Hell, he was DISCOURAGED to use it if the memo about HR complaints are anything to go by. Swansea, on the other hand, never trusted Jimmy, never even really liked him, but he didn't want to make anything worse either. He didn't know what would actually set Jimmy off, or what he was capable of, and aside from just straight up killing him what else could he do that wouldn't just push Jimmy further off the edge? Like with the foam. "One wrong move and you'll rip this ship a new asshole", he worked carefully, hiding the last pod from Jimmy, keeping the only other weapon on himself, guarding the only other entrance into Medbay, but Jimmy was escalating quickly. He underestimated how far Jimmy was willing to go, just like Curly had, and in the end suffered the consequences.

The only character who actually understood how dangerous and unstable Jimmy was is Anya. She knew the moment she found out she was pregnant he would hurt her ("you won't let me protect myself"). He wouldn't be able to take it, he would do something drastic. She knew he was escalating the longer they were stranded. Anya is the only crew member who truly understood how dangerous Jimmy was and took direct action.

And interesting thing to me is that she doesn't just kill herself. She locks herself in the medbay. She could have waited for Jimmy to sleep, or locked herself in the cockpit, but she locked herself in the medbay with Curly. She knows that with her gone there would be no one left to take care of him, she knew Jimmy would continue to escalate his abuse, and with her gone all of his anger and fear and guilt would turn on Curly.

And wouldn't you know it? She was right. Without Anya to stop him, he takes curly out of the bed, forces him upright into the cryopod, and forces a man with no skin, no arms, no legs, and infected tissues to be frozen for 20 years while the rest of his crew Rot. And that's only what we know to be reality- if any of his delusions had some basis in reality he could have done so so much more. Anya is the Only one to take reasonable, direct action to keep herself, and then Curly, safe.

But she didn't have enough power over Jimmy to truly protect herself. She didn't have the code to the gun case, she didn't have a weapon or a rank to fall back on. She was outnumbered by men who she knew from experience either wouldn't or couldn't keep her safe, and she was heavily pregnant with a baby she didn't want and most likely couldn't even get enough nutrients to sustain either her or the fetus. She was physically weakened and trapped in a stranded ship with her abuser with no way home and a medical miracle (curse) in Curly.

This game is a really good reflection of reality, in my opinion as an abuse survivor. Some people will see them as "one of the boys" and constantly excuse or downplay their actions (Curly), some people will do small things in the background, recognize the abuse and disprove, but don't want to get in the way or make things worse (Swansea), and some people are just straight up oblivious/naive (Daisuke). But in the end, it's the system that allows abuse and incentives coverups to keep peace or save face that really allows abuse to fester and escalate.

Which is why I personally have a problem with the idea that Anya should have just Told A Different Man because it ignores the very real chain of power and her own agency in her story, AS WELL AS the idea that Swansea and Diasuke knew but didn't care because that's just not reflective of real life. Not every man is some rapist apologist who doesn't care what abusers do until it happens to them, some people just don't know what to do, or don't have any good options that wouldn't result in further abuse. Hell some people just don't even fucking notice! Not everyone has had exposure to the signs or knows what to look for.

It's easy when looking at fictional depictions of abuse to say "well if I was there I would have just punched him/killed him/called the police" but real life, in that moment, its never going to be clear cut. You can call out abuse, but that might just lead to that abuser taking it out on their abuse victim later. They could even start to target you for daring to speak out, or try to hurt you and cut you off from the person being abused. You can know all the right steps and the right programs, but in the moment, when faced with a real situation where someone could get hurt or even killed? You stumble. You think things over, you don't try and make any direct moves that would set their abusers off. Sometimes that's a good instinct, and sometimes that just lets abuse escalate. It's never a good situation, and it's never actually anyone's fault but the abusers. And this way of thinking also conveniently leaves out the survivor of this abuse, and portrays them as someone who needs to be saved, rather than someone who needs support and resources to save themselves. It also very conveniently lets the company that Put Anya in this situation in the first place get off Scott free.

The solution isn't "oh one of the men on board should have personally killed Jimbo and saved Anya all by himself" its "Anya deserved the support of her crewmates instead of being forced into close proximity with her rapist and also maybe Jimmy shouldn't have access to the fucking controls or medbay or any weapons- AND ALSO the crew shouldn't have financial incentives not to report things to HR"

[miaoua3]

(pairing: woozi x f! reader)

happy birthday to my favourite teddy bear🤍

entering the code into the little keyboard next to the door, you slowly open the glass door and peak inside. your eyes naturally go to the chair where your boyfriend usually sits on, right in front of the computer where he lets the magic happen.

but he’s not there.

next, your eyes go to look inside the recording booth, where he usually sings into the microphone that is always set up a little too high for him for the sake of his taller members.

but he’s not there either.

lastly, your eyes fall onto the only place left where your boyfriend could be found. the place where you both spent endless nights talking, cuddling, sleeping, kissing and making love. the place that you both consider your happy place.

and there he is, laying on his back, asleep, with his arm resting on across his eyes.

smiling at the sight, you completely enter the studio, letting the door softly close shut while you put down the bags full of food.

at the sound of rustling of the bags, jihoon suddenly wakes up, ready to jump from the couch.

seeing that, you quickly approach him and quietly say “hey, hey it’s okay, it’s just me, love.”, quickly sitting down next to him and rub his back, while he rubs his face with both his hands.

in his deep and sexy voice, he responds “hey baby. didn’t know you were coming. i just laid for a bit to try to think about the next steps for the song i’m working on, but i guess i fell asleep.”, before he leans back, letting the back of his head lean on the couch, closing his eyes.

sitting more comfortably, tucking your legs beneath you, you start softly playing with his silky black hair, scratching his scalp just the way you know he likes it.

jihoon opens his eyes, looking at you while he smiles. taking your hand in his, he pulls you softly towards him, his lips already slightly puckered, ready for you to kiss him.

smiling through the kiss, you let your lips separate for a few seconds. pushing his hair back, you whisper “hi, my love.”

smiling back, he responds “hi, beautiful.”

smiling brighter, you go back to kissing him, your hands going to his round and soft cheeks out of the habit.

he stops kissing you for a second for the sake of asking you “what’s in those bags?”

suddenly remembering why you came here in the first place, you jump up from the couch and round up the small table, excitedly taking out all the things from the bags.

“first,”, you say, “we have some korean barbecue chicken. then, i also bought some rice for the sake of it. and then we have…”, you continue taking out all of the things and placing them on the table, making it look like you intend on feeding six people and not just two.

when you come to the last bag, you take it before going back to sit next to him. looking up at the clock that hangs above the glass window of the recording booth.

23:57.

smiling unsurely, you start. “lastly, we have…this.”, you say as you take out a little white box. opening it, it reveals a little white cake, with little pink hearts and a “happy birthday!” spelled on it in the same colour.

you put it on your lap before you take out one singular candle and place it in the middle of it.

“i know you don’t really like your birthdays nor being the centre of attention…but i still care about you, and i love you, and i still want to show you how much you mean to me, so. i got you a small cake. and only one candle.”, you smile gently at him, looking unsure.

jihoon smiles at you, tucking a bit of hair behind your ear.

leaning in, he kisses your cheek and then your lips softly, before whispering against them “thank you. i don’t know what i would do without you in my life.”, pausing briefly to gather the courage for the next words. looking you directly in the eyes, he continues “i want for every next birthday of mine to be like this, with you, just us and a little cake. i…i want to spend the rest of my life with you.”, his courage wavers a bit.

smiling back at him, you back away enough to light up the single candle.

looking up at the clock again, you see the time.

23:59.

“make a wish.”, you say, looking him directly in the eyes.

looking right back, he says the wish out loud.

“say yes.”, before blowing out the candle.

putting down the cake gently, you then pounce on him, kissing him with all the excitement that’s been bottling up inside of you during his little speech.

at exactly twelve o’clock, you say yes to his question.

[daisymbin]

Hii it's my first time requesting. Can I request 5. "Is that your way of asking me to stay tonight" with Joshua x female reader thankyouuu

hi anon!! thank you for requesting!! 🤍🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist!

suggestive prompt #5: "is that your way of asking me to stay the night?"

joshua leaned back against the couch, his arm draped casually along the backrest, his hand brushing your shoulder. the movie you picked had long since faded into the background, forgotten amidst stolen glances and lingering touches. your focus wasn’t on the screen—it was on him. you can't help but be reminded of how happy you've been the past 2 months, dating someone like him.

“you’re not even watching,” he teased, voice low and soft, a smile playing on his lips.

“neither are you,” you shot back, turning your head to meet his gaze. his eyes sparkled in the dim light, and the corners of his mouth twitched, betraying the amusement he tried to hide.

before either of you could think twice, the gap between you disappeared. his lips were warm against yours, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. the movie’s soundtrack melted into the background as the kiss deepened, a slow and deliberate exchange that left your heart racing.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, and his breath was uneven. his thumb brushed your jawline, lingering like he didn’t want to let go.

“it’s getting late,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper. “i should probably go.”

your eyes widened at his words, panic flaring in your chest. “wait!” the word came out more desperate than you intended, and joshua’s brows raised in surprise.

“what is it?” he asked, his lips curving into a faint smile, his hand still resting on your waist.

“it’s just...” you glanced at the clock, scrambling for an excuse. “it’s late. you shouldn’t drive this late, its.. dangerous.”

his smile widened into a smirk, the kind that made your stomach flutter. “is that your way of asking me to stay the night?”

your cheeks burned under his gaze, and you bit your lip, suddenly shy. you nodded, barely meeting his eyes.

joshua chuckled, his voice warm and teasing as he leaned in closer. “you’re making this really hard for me, you know that?”

“why?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

he sighed, his forehead dropping to your shoulder for a moment before pulling back to look at you. “because i’m trying to be a gentleman. i’m trying to leave before things... escalate.” his eyes flickered down to your lips before returning to your gaze, the implication clear.

your heart pounded as you processed his words, your fingers instinctively curling around the fabric of his shirt. “what if i don’t want you to leave?”

joshua’s breath hitched, his resolve visibly wavering. “are you sure about that? i dont know if i can hold myself back if you keep looking at me like that.” he said softly, searching your expression.

you nodded, your voice steady despite the heat rushing to your cheeks. “im sure,”

he let out a soft laugh, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “you’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, but the smile on his lips gave him away.

“is that a yes?” you asked, a nervous lilt to your voice.

he sighed dramatically, leaning back against the couch as if weighing his options.

his tone turning teasing again as he leaned closer, his smirk returning, “no man in their right mind would ever say no to you, darling.”

your cheeks flushed, and you buried your face in his shoulder, his laugh rumbling against you. even as the movie continued playing in the background, it was clear neither of you was paying attention anymore.

[sweatyracoon]

Hey:) can you please do a part 2 of Tell me and make it smut

A/n: This is part two to a story I made a while ago, but can be read separately. Enjoy! Thanks anon for the ask! Feel free to suggest more.

Warnings: smut, obviously. Vampire Felix, biting, blood?, pinv, unprotected sex, dom felix, pet names, let me know if I missed anything

It had been nearly a month since you and Felix had the heart to heart, and things seemed to be going smoothly.

His features matured in ways you would have never thought.

He switched back to his natural blonde about a week ago, and you almost felt relief.

Although you didn't mind the black, you had noticed that it affected you in ways you shouldn't be by your best friend.

He was hot.

The black made him look mysterious and sexy. It nearly killed you to look at him, much less be near him.

Today was one of your mandatory hang nights, more specifically, a movie night.

You had found out that he no longer had the same needs as normal people. He doesn't sleep, but can force himself to for a short period of time.

He doesn't eat like he used to. He found that yes, he needs blood, but not often. And when he eats, he takes a few bites before feeling full. He can walk in the light, but it makes him a bit weak, like muscle aches.

It had been surprisingly easy to accommodate these new discoveries. And he had been so grateful to you for being so accepting.

He was sitting on the couch, his blonde hair peaking from above the head rest. You smiled as you walked around to join him, a bowl of popcorn in your hand.

"Ready?"

He grinned at you, his eyes shimmering from the blue light.

"Yep!" He barked, snuggling against you after you got comfortable.

You pressed play, watching the beginning with interest.

The movie was barely forty minutes in when you felt Felix tense against you. He felt colder than normal all of sudden, even under the blankets.

"Felix?" You turned to look at him, seeing that he was avoiding your gaze.

"Lix, what's wrong?" You went to reach for him, but he flinched, making you stop.

"Don't." His voice was deeper than usual, rough around the edges.

It almost sounded like a threat.

"Felix what's wrong? Remember, you promised you wouldn't shut me out," you whispered, unsure of what was wrong all of the sudden.

He sighed before drooping his shoulders, still not looking at you.

"I lied the other day. I-" His voice cracked. "I wasn't able to feed on Thursday."

Your eyes widened, your blood running cold. Wasn't that needed for him to stay sane or something? You weren't entirely sure what would happen if he didn't feed, and he wasn't either.

It was still entirely new.

"So what's wrong now? Are you hungry?" You asked, turning your whole body to him. He had your full attention, even if the movie was still playing.

"Yes, but that's not all," he gulped, looking at you finally.

You gasped, seeing the bright red hue in his eyes. They almost seemed to be pulsing, as if they glowed in the dark.

"I felt the blood going through your arm...when I was laying on you. It was weird." He frowned, wanting to look back to the tv.

Suddenly an idea popped in your head, thinking you might be able to help the poor guy out.

"Have you fed from a human?" You asked.

His eyes blew up. "Uh...Kinda? Bang Chan, he's like me, and he let me bite him. But other than that, just animals," He cleared his throat, his eyes getting brighter by the second.

"Do you want to feed from me? Do you know when to stop?" You tilt your head, watching him freeze like a deer caught in headlights.

"What? No! I don't want to hurt you,"

You blinked. You didn't think about that.

"It hurts?" You couldn't stop the words from leaving you. You cringed.

"Well, Chan said it felt really good when he bite people, but it doesn't have the same effect on him."

"Bite me then," you giggle, shoving your wrist to his face, making him recoil.

"I've never fed from a person. I can go out real quick so we can still have movie night-" he was stuttering at this point and you just wanted him to stop and breathe.

As you listened to him, you brought your nail you where your shoulder and neck meet, scratching just hard enough to break the skin.

Even though it didn't breach your skin yet, the sudden smell of the iron liquid reached Felix's nostrils, igniting something within him he didn't even know was there. His eyes darkened, and before he could stop himself, he was on you in seconds.

You let out a yelp of surprise, now on your back with Felix straddling your hips, locking you in place.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck, and you heard him breathe in deeply, wanting to burn your scent in his memory.

You heard his jaw clenching beside your chin, and you took a deep breath.

"It's okay, Felix. I want it," you breathed. You didn't know entirely what it is you wanted, but he got the idea, latching his teeth into your pulse point.

It hurt at first, the pierce through the skin, his sharp teeth cutting through the many layers of skin. But once he got deep enough, it turned into a cooling heat that then turned into a flame, one that burned hotter with each passing moment.

The shock ignited the pooling arousal in your abdomen, and you let out a moan into his ear.

He growled as he knawed at your neck, squirming above you. You could feel his hardening cock through his sweats, your mind reeling at the thought of him inside you.

He groaned, finally pulling away from your neck to look at you.

His eyes had gone back to their natural color, and his face was flushed. His breathing was heavy, and his lips stained red with your blood.

He looked like an angel.

"You okay?" He asked softly, bringing a hand to rest on your face.

You nodded, unable to speak all of the sudden.

Your gaze blurred, your mind fuzzy.

He seemed to have caught on, hearing the small whimpers emitting from your throat.

"Whats the matter, honey? Can't talk? Did it feel that good?" He cooed at you with a grin, rubbing circles on your cheek.

You sniffled, nodding in response, nuzzling into his touch.

"Can I, y/n? Can I touch you?" He whispered, staring into your eyes deeply.

His free hand rested on your waistband, gently messing with a stray thread.

"Please, lixie," you mutter, suddenly hotter.

You lifted your hip gently, the skin of your torso meeting his cold fingers. You sighed at the contact, tilting your head back slightly.

He watched in awe as he pushed his fingers under your clothing, his index and middle finger playing with your folds before flicking your clit. You groaned, your arms coming to grasp at any part of him that you can. Your left hand found purchase on his forearm, your grip tight. The other fisted the fabric of the couch, scratching roughly on your skin.

“More, lix. Please…” you breathed, loving the way he touched you.

He said nothing, but showed that he heard you by shoving two fingers deep within your sopping cunt, pushing at a fast pace. Though his hands looked small, they seemed to be finding your g-spot immediately, grinning as he abused that sacred spot,watching as you let out louder moans. He forced himself down to catch your lips in his, sucking the air out of you as he continued to finger you, curling his fingers every other thrust. He brought his other hand to rub roughly at your clothed nipples, feeling them harden under the fabric.

“Want me to fuck you, y/n? Just tell me the word and I’ll take care of you, love. Let me take care of you,” he all but begged, sounding fucked out before even undressing.

He loved the way you clenched around his fingers, pulling him in, not wanting him to leave. If Felix had it his way, he’d never let his fingers leave from you. And if you wanted it to be his cock instead, who was he to deny you?

“Yes! Please Felix!” You moaned, your stomach doing somersaults as it begged for release. You whined as h pulled his fingers from you rather quickly, and watched as he fumbled with his sweats. He rushed to pull them off, nearly falling from the couch in the process, making you giggle at him. It quickly died down once you saw him.

He sprung out of his pants, a loud thud emitting rom where his cock hit his stomach. You nearly let yourself drool at the sight of him.

No other guy has made you feel this way about his cock, but boy was Felix beautiful. What he lacked in length, he made up for in girth, almost looking like the stretch would be painful. But you’d take it. You needed it. Almost as much as he wanted it.

He grabbed the bottom of his shirt, bringing it up to bite, showing of his abs. You moaned just from the sight of them.

“You sure you want this? We can stop…” he mumbled with the tee between his teeth. His eyes shimmered in the dim lighting, looking as if he held stars in his eyes.

“Yes I’m sure, lix. I just have one question…” you smiled at him. “Could you…bite me again?”

His eyes widened at first, but he felt himself twitching at the thought. Your blood was certainly way better than that of an animal. Yours was more fresh and almost electric with the way your adrenaline spiked. It was almost like his own alcohol just walking around in the apartment. He was head over heels for your taste, plus his long term crush on you.

He relaxed before placing himself at your entrance.

“Of course, baby,” he pushed in slowly, watching your back arch off the sofa.

He quickly came down to latch onto your neck, sucking, hoping to ease the pain with the pleasure of the bite.

It seemed to calm you down, because shortly after that, with each draw he took from you, your moans became louder. He started to move, cursing himself suddenly. Drinking from you was enough to make him finish, but he didn’t want to finish before you. He pulled his mouth back, looking you in the eyes as he picked up the pace.

Once again, his lips were stained with your blood, the amount a lot more than previously, making droplets form, and threatened to fall with each thrust. He hit deeper, pushing harder against you causing slapping sounds to echo the room. You both grunted with one another as each of you closed in on your high.

You felt the knot forming in the pit of your stomach, watching as his eyes fluttered shut as he rammed into you as if he never would have sex again. He wanted to make it last. He found that he was struggling just to not cum from staring at you. He loved how helpless you looked right now.

You finally felt the knot snap, your high washing over you like a ton of bricks. You shivered as he continued, your walls clenching around him desperately, wanting to absorb his delicious cum.

One droplet of blood finally parted from his lips, landing onto your own. He watched as you stuck your tongue out to taste yourself, moaning at the flavor. The sight of you tasting your blood finally made him snap. His cum shot out in spurts inside you, riding out his high until he was shaking from overstimulation. He collapsed onto you for a few seconds before pulling out, making you whine. He grinned, pulling his shirt of all the way.

“One second,” he muttered, cleaning you both before pulling the blanket over you both once more. “How are you feeling? Did I take too much?” He nuzzled into you, trying to make sour you weren’t uncomfortable.

“No, I’m okay. I don’t feel any different,” you responded with a yawn. Your shoulder aches slightly, but you deemed it worth it.

“You might not feel that way later, though!” He whined, pawing at your hands.

You giggled as you saw the ending credits to the movie you were supposed to watch.

“Good thing I took the next two days off!”

[blue-cat-shitposts]

Thank you for peer-reviewing my tags lol. I think it's also fascinating when we look at it from the existential horror angle.

Yes, the Mechs are overpowered and are beyond the scope of the world they interact with - but aside from recording the story itself, they mostly just fuck around, either aiding the story in tiny ways (Brian in HNOC and Aurora, Nastya and Jonny in OUATIS) or being a mild nuisance (Marius and the crew in TBI). So you might be tempted to think that it's just a good Bit, that "haha these all-powerful beings choose to interact with the characters strictly in the ways that are the most fun for them"

But then, there's Ashes.

Ashes Fuckin' O'Reilly.

Who you should, frankly, be absolutely terrified of.

Because THEY decided that the best use of their practically god-like powers over the mortals... is to actually, genuinely play god. And actively not only participate in, but orchestrate and uphold a big part of the genuine misery the world they interact with is experiencing. As Hades, they've directly orchestrated the entire scenario we hear about in Ulysses Dies At Dawn - puppeteered the lives of real people who had their own real goals, hopes and aspirations, turning them into mere pawns, for the explicit sole purpose of satiating their curiosity about one specific mystery of this world. And then as we can read in the fiction, once that curiosity was satiated, they did not hesitate in burning that entire world full of equally real, complex people, into the ground - simply because that world held no more interest to them, and they had no more use for it.

And the other Mechs don't have any huge moral qualms about it either. The story is done. They can move on. Because the Mechanisms fundamentally live on an entirely different plane of existence than the characters in their stories. Jonny asks if it still counts as cannibalism if you're no longer human - does it still count as genocide if you're no longer human? Do morals matter or exist if you're fundamentally above the people they should apply to?

What I'm saying is the Mechs can be terrifying if you think about the Implications of them being outside the narrative, yet able to interact with it. To them, these people really are just characters, pawns, or figures on a diorama. Their ONLY use to the Mechs is making yet another entertaining story to fill eternity with. Jonny just decides to be more whimsical about it.

Something about “let’s get this party started the only way we know” and “if you’re finished playing at soldier you might’ve noticed we cannot die” of Sleeping Beauty just hits SO FUCKING HARD

Like they’re all just space bastards with way too much power and questionable morals having a GREAT time doing whatever the hell they do, blowing shit up and causing chaos

(And their morals may be questionable but at least they’re consistent, Jonny would rather blow up a planet than kiss a stranger without consent and yk what? I support that)

[sk3tch404]

Yandere Weeping Clown Thoughts!!

CW: Nothing too bad, just your usual creeper, manipulation, and analysis(?) on his character. Tbh hes so yandere coded that everything blurs together atp (and I'm using "yandere coded" sort of loosely bc that makes me sound like a yandere enabler or smth, which like, lol no but in fiction yeah funne). Called him Joker bc it was easier to use/remember than Weepy, and also bc they called them that in all the lore drop so 🤷‍♀️

A/n: Just saw the new Hullabaloo lore drop and IDV has taken me back into its clutches. He is so yandere material 🫶 Proof read enough to go "that's postable."

Joker is quite sensitive to his darlings perception of him. He always tries to do the right thing, tries to please you so that when you smile at him, that strangely unfamiliar warmth spreads through his chest. A smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, stringing his lips up as if he were a puppet. And a puppet of your design he shall be if you wished it so.

Joker is definitely a worshipping sort of yandere. He'll do most of anything for his darling if it made them just a teeny bit closer. Any progress is better than no progress. Even if it means visiting you in the dead of night to "check on you," or often "bumping into you" in places that you frequent at the manor. He'll stop bothering you if you reject his advances, but he'll come back around sooner or later. Joker doesn't want you to hate him, but he also doesn't want to be away from you! Although you may say some hurtful things like, "It's making me uncomfortable, sorry," or, "Can you leave me alone for a while," he knows deep down that if he teeters around the boundaries you set for long enough, he can wiggle his way through and to your heart. At least, that's what he hopes.

Despite his subservient nature to his darling, Joker isn't so obedient around others. He has his more introverted traits for sure, but his sensitivity to anger is fragile, especially when it comes to you. Joker doesn't have many qualms about taking a stand for you or himself if it came to it. He wants to be your protector, so he isn't very afraid to say something if he feels the need to. It can become quite the scene if the other party doesn't back down, making either you or someone else the mediator of the debacle. It's exhausting to have to manage your persistent follower, but it's better to handle a situation rather than let it spiral out of control, leaving the consequences of his mental break to you.

With his fragility also comes his keen eye for any chances to take advantage of a situation. Joker isn't very intimidating physically or feared for being calculating, but he is usually dismissed, and that makes for perfect cover if he plays his cards right. Framing people for his crimes can be a walk in the park depending on the situation, and manipulating those weaker than him isn't something he wholeheartedly takes pride in, but if it's for you, if it's for you, the singular most important person and one he adores most in his rotten life, then he's happy to oblige. If it wins you over in the end, then that's all that matters, right?

Joker will try to convince his darling to stay by his side and will get more desperate depending on the circumstances. He's not a kidnapper type, more of an idealist. Not to confuse that with delusional though. Joker knows full well how you probably feel about your strained relationship, but if he doesn't try now, he'll never get to be with you, and that's unacceptable. He wants to live a romantic and sweet life with you day in and day out, so he'd hate to see you miserable and locked up. If he can't love you the way he wants to, then what would be the point?

Even with that, Joker isn't above guilt tripping or petty manipulation tactics like that. He really can be unpredictable at times and can become very dangerous if his darling constantly shows no interest. Although he is a romantic idealist in his mind with you, he's also the type to slip into the "if I can't have you, no one can" mentality. He might just end up hurting his darling, but it won't be anything too drastic by the time it happens. Joker would feel terrible, terrified, and utterly disgusted with himself after seeing your petrified state. He'd drop to his knees and attempt to mutter consoling words, somewhat even begging for your forgiveness.

"Y- Y/n, no, oh no, no... Y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please. Don't cry, I didn't mean to. I truly am sorry. I had just- I wasn't thinking straight. I would never hurt you. If only you hadn't done this, then... No, just come back to me Y/n."

He is still quite demanding even while apologizing, which would make your fear even greater. Joker doesn't want to force his darling's hand, but if it really came down to it, he'd give his darling a grade A verbally manipulative beat down. He'll use anything and everything against you so that all else but him looks ugly in that moment. Sure being at the receiving end of his unstable anger was horrifying, but be honest with yourself, were it not for him who has saved you countless times in both matches and inside the manor, you would be long dead by now. Anything is on the table, anything just so you will come back to him once more. He has little to no guilt in it, just the fear that he will seriously break if you're still in a right state of mind. So, in turn, he'll unfortunately have to break you first.

[sideysvault]

𓍼ོ Ad Astra Per Aspera 𓍼ོ (PT. 1)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

wc: 2,200k

Tags: [sfw] Arranged marriage, mature themes, angst, coldness, enemies to lovers, eventual fluff and smut.

Full Series masterlist here.

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“Are you disappointed with the results of the arrangement?” Still not very well versed on the frail subtleties needed for a cordial marriage, the woman frowned. It if sounded sincere, she might have answered honestly. Because even her, when she was a child, had dreamt of romantic affections, great tales of familial love, mutual servitude and joy.

But the Prince’s voice told a tale of practiced self deprecation. She wasn’t yet sure if it was to appear disarmingly inadequate, easier to ignore, or if it was to appease the King’s fragile ego. Either way, acting was not one of the Prince’s best qualities. Underneath all the loathing, layed a poorly covered, insidious egotism. He felt pride in fulfilling his inglorious role, pride of being an outcast, he clearly thought of himself as above it all: superstitions of the weak minded, sentimentality, the passionate side of politics. She could already feel herself getting sick of it all.

“Forgive me, Your Grace, but you must not go beyond the walls of the Red Keep often” Although she knew he did, as the stories of the sad little boy he turned to when attending the brothel could be heard from the mouth of the King himself. “The Gods are rarely in the mood for protection, and so common men are never left whole. The queerest thing about your appearance is not your limb eye, but rather your ghostly hair” with a smirk forming without her being able to avoid it, she quickly added “A haunting omen, perhaps.”

Aemond hated the petulant smile that appeared on his wife’s lips. He hated seeing her biting teeth, and her self proclaimed waking martyrdom. And the wisdomless lectures? A sickening symptom of barbarian vanity. The Prince felt scandalized. He considered himself a sensible person, able to rationalize the marital arrangement, a paragon of respectability and patience. Her attitude had a way of putting it all on a thin veil.

She felt troubled by the marriage, yes, but at night, when she could see the maidens avoid the wing of the castle where the King rested, when the Maestres ran around with mysterious teas, she felt the urge to get on her knees and thank the lords for granting her the repressed brother. Boring, tedious, and insolently over confident. But much more honorable.

They had to consummate the marriage, of course. That was a problem that was increasingly harder to ignore. He had been kind enough to not force it upon her, and the Princess had heard stories of insemination without touch. When the bride was to be young of age, the husband —If he was respectable enough to have a soul—would set his seed on a vase of sorts, which would be introduced into the girl manually, by a maiden of choice. She heard it was rarely successful, but protective parents could demand the practice.

She was too old for those considerations, but what was one to do?

Prince Aemond was handsome, painfully so. If you ignored his impatience for the incompetence of his brother, or for his mother's hidden sentimentalism, his horror towards failure, the frowns he gave at any suggestion of true romantic felicity, and the egomaniac tendencies, he could look quite handsome.

During courtship, he completely ignored his wife to be, but that is to be expected in political betrothal. Back then, he slightly frightened the Princess, but not nearly enough as everyone assumes he should have.

The residents of Kings Landing often find him rather physically odd. Why is that? If, after all, he looks like a proper Targaryen Prince, even with one functioning eye. His childhood wound could not deny his straight silver hair, or the blue in his calculating eyes. His features were delicate, sharp, and firm, with an obnoxious royal quality. And if she knew no better, she would be excited at the prospect of consummation.

Now the Princess’s dreams did not consist of domestic life —Although, she naturally still felt the urge, on rare occasions— But of going beyond the realms of her condition. A mind that kept itself occupied with thoughts of what may have become of her with less social opposition and more personal stimulus. Dreaming of being born a man, of being a scholar, a Maestre, to finally visit The Citadel.

Another recurring hope was that even in between the most interrelated webs of inherited resentments and southeastern superstitions one may find peace and harmony. To make the Red Keep a home worth living in. But all of these desires seemed to be equally improbable, and she had begun to come to terms with the fact that the burning desire of childhood may never go away, but it must be ignored in order to survive.

Learning to her was similar to a holy grace, far more powerful than any priest or God. A beautiful distraction. That’s how she had fallen into the hands of a false religious conversion. The teachings of the Seven had no real impact or meaning to her, but it was the closest, most respectable way of learning about the world around her.

The marital chambers were spotless, in an almost obsessive manner. It went far beyond the traditional efficiency of cleaning servants. It had been done by his own hand, and everything had a designated place. And at the beginning, it had been nerve wrecking. The constant worry of leaving everything in its place, of being too messy with her presence, with her own belongings, on her own chambers.

The only thing that demanded attention in the sad sterile room was the extensive library. It filled the space with character of its own, the books rebelling against their masters' particularities and demanding a disorderly presence of their own right. His private library exploited the fragility of her wife’s curious mind and predisposition for literature.

After years of espiritual resignation, it was like a breeze of fresh air. She would be the first to admit the only sin she had committed against her husband —Besides being a republican, which was a shameful secret of hers—: To sneak and borrow books from his private delectable collection. A stupid, brash decision. Especially considering Aemond's serious disposition and angsty, hostile character. But the Princess couldn't help herself when she saw the chambers unattended. Rationalizing the invasion of privacy, because they were now married, for better or for worse, those books were inside their marital chambers.

Prince Aemond knew of his wife’s intrusion, of course. When she came back to return the innocent theft, she realized with horror that he had left a single stone where the book she had taken was. Feeling partially offended by the gesture, she had returned the volume to its place and accommodated the fatal stone on the left side of his bureau, near the candle.

It became a routine. The wife would take a book from his collection, and he would place the rock marking the missing spot. Whenever she finished her reading, she was to accommodate the stone at the left of the candle in his bureau. A childish game, perhaps. But it was the most similar thing they had to a sense of cordiality and shared duality. Everything else remained as sterile as before, when either party tried to approach the other, they were quickly reminded of how repelled they felt towards the others flaws, perceived or not.

It did exhaust her a good deal, the uncertainty of the marriage. Having to be sly and poise about how she managed herself, or to be met with heavy words of disapproval. Targaryen folk, seemingly closer to Gods than to men, were not to be played with, even if you were a wife to one of them.

Another cause of exhaustion and histeria was one much more primal. She dreaded the day he finally came to claim his bride's virtue. It was not about discomfort with marital relations, but rather a feeling of vulnerability. Having to be at his mercy, his whim, it was the fact that she hadto wait until the night his patient character faltered.

There was also the matter of Larys Strong, of course. The King was like a brute, to focused on his next rush to have any sense of planning or concerned for the politics of consummation. The Dowager Queen was the one who pushed his limits when needed, and she seemingly had Larys Strong at his mercy, or the other way around, of that, the Princess was not entirely sure yet.

Sir Strong loved not the Gods or the Crown but himself and the thrill of keeping people hostage by the bondadge of secrets. He enjoyed parading around the corners, lurking, observing. He liked the authority that the Crown granted him, the preposterous work of secrecy. He translated the King’s rule into language than sounded vaguely religious, vaguely patriotic. Only to whisper it to the ears of maidens and servants.

It may have been paranoia, but the Princess could have sworn that the maidens took special care into looking for any red spots on the marital sheets. The Dowager Queen had been paying more attention to her, with that stern frown of hers. Real or imagined, it was dangerous to wait this long.

Tired of the whole ordeal, she decided that the occurrence was unavoidable, and at a reasonable cost of her sexual condition if anything, she could end the anxiety and the whispered chastity by taking some kind of agency and doing the first step.

The Princess soaked in rose water the scented brazil wood chips her mother had prepared her with. Using them to brightly paint her cheeks, nipples, and lips with an irresistible shade of contrast, and leaving her hair messy, determined to look desirable enough for it to be done tonight.

If the Prince was surprised to see her laying in bed, naked, when he walked into the chambers, he did not show proof of it on his face. The husband quickly took off his clothes, as well. He looked tired, even under the dim, warm yellow lights of the room. She smiled upon the view, a signal of relief, upon anything else. For the first time in weeks, her husband did not seem troubled and upset, only tired. The consummation might end quickly and without any fuss.

As soon as he laid on the sheets, she got up from the side of the bed that corresponded to her, and straddled the Prince. She wasn’t sure of what he may like, but she figured this was the safest and less degrading way to go about the night. She felt her nipples harden against the cold nightly wind, and she could also feel her husband's length hardened underneath her. Without any regard for her feelings, her core began to leak in anticipation. In that moment, she thanked the Gods for a handsome husband, and she thanked them for making him a contemporary in age. This wasn’t going to be as difficult as she initially thought.

For a moment, his eye seemed to shine with something similar to the spark of lust. Just for a moment.

It was gone almost as soon as she had noticed it. And with a soft but recognizably firm move, he got her off him.

“There is no use for it. We don’t carry the duty to fulfill the royal lineage” The Prince sounded cold, and spoke in a manner similar to how one explains a simple concept to a child. It scandalized her. Had he had no consideration at all for her safety? Was he blind to the watchful eyes of the maids? Was he not a man, or is it that you were insufficient in his eyes?

And if the offense wasn’t enough to hurt the Princess, he unknowingly added another striking statement, just for good measure “They are also an emotional lability. One that mustn’t be created recklessly taken in times of war”

Her heart seemed to sink in the depths of her stomach. The humiliation, sparked by anger washed over her head and burned her cheeks with an unbearable warmt. Without saying a word and trying to contain the tears that this robbery of agency had caused, she left the marital chambers.

Another brash, emotionally driven decision. A misjudgment, letting go of the calculating measure of taking care of what the court might think. The Princess needed a break from the claustrophobic room, from its cleaning, from her Husband’s cold offenses. How can he speak of children so callously? She had thought of her husband as a devout family member. Even the monster they had for the King loved his children. The Princess wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of forming a family in an arranged marriage, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that her husband was rejecting her lineage and the single act of agency that she was truly permitted:The possibility of making happiness of her own, of raising her own. Feeling rudely rejected, and more lonely than ever before, she compulsively walked into the messy physis of the garden. Tears fell on her cheeks, and went down into her neck, she had no family, no friend, no kin to confide to. For the first time since her arrival, she felt the honesty of her situation falling from her tears.

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Notes: Omg the first part of the first long form series that i have ever conceived 😭😭 if anyone is interested in proofreading or if you see any mistakes please let me know! English is not my first language and I always make so many mistakes. Take care of one another!

— Sidey xxo

[cripplecharacters]

Hello, I'm writing a novel and I'm curious if you have any resources or mods that could answer on the topic of full term pregnancy for characters with physical and mental disabilities? The character I'm writing is an amputee (both legs lost to sepsis) who struggles with psychosis/BPD and takes plethora of medications.

Would she have to go cold turkey to carry to term? Would the pregnancy have any negative effect on her physical disability? Just want to get my facts gathered before I start writing something I'm entirely unfamiliar with

Hi asker,

Some medicines are never safe during pregnancy because they have a proven high risk of miscarriage or serious risk to the developing baby.

But many more medicines are taken during pregnancy even if they can carry risk to the pregnant person or the baby. That's because they help the person using them so much, that the risk of not taking them is higher. They may modify doses or monitor themselves or the baby more often. So no, she does not necessarily have to go cold turkey to carry to term.

Some sources for more information:

Medicine and Pregnancy: an Overview by the CDC (US site)

Medicines During Pregancy on MyAlberta (Canada site)

You specifically mention psychosis, so maybe your character takes antipsychotics. There has been a lot of fear that antipsychotics can cause birth defects/abnormalities or miscarriages, but more recently many people are encouraged to stay on them while pregnant.

I haven't read fully through these, but they should be informative:

Use of Antipsychotic Drugs During Pregnancy on NIH (US site)

Antipsychotics in Pregnancy and Breastfeeding on RC Psych (UK site)

Antipsychotic Use in Pregnancy on NIH (US site).

There is no BPD-specific medication, so I can't really specify anything else. Some amputees take medications, and some don't, so I can't specify there either. If you know what your character takes, you can google their specific medication types + pregnancy. People get pregnant all the time, so this is not an uncommon avenue of thought.

Either way, this varies depending on what your character specifically takes. But ultimately, there is no absolute requirement that she must go cold turkey to carry to term.

Hope this helps,

mod sparrow

Hi!

One issue she could experience as an amputee is related to prosthesis fitting - I'll assume that she uses them since you didn't mention her being a wheelchair user. During pregnancy she'd probably gain weight, which might mean she will need to visit her prosthetist to make sure it's comfortable for her to walk in. She might also experience more swelling in her residual limbs, which basically means the same thing - depending on how much changes her body goes through, she might have to make a few trips. This is especially true if she's an above the knee amputee rather than below.

Amputee Coalition has a page on pregnancy that you can check out, with some possible timelines that are currently recommended (especially helpful since it sounds like your story is set in modern times).

Hope this helps!

mod Sasza

Hello! I'm someone with diagnosed schizoaffective disorder in remission and BPD keeps getting thrown at as a possibility for a diagnosis for me, and medication for BPD can range from nothing to a combination of antidepressants and antipsychotics, antipsychotics being front line for any psychotic symptoms or disorder. I have had doctors plan with me as the antipsychotic I am on (vraylar) is unsafe for pregnancy however olanzapine is often considered safer. Generally for someone on heavy-duty medication there is a safer drug in the same class their doctor switches them to and closely monitors their progress and health from pregnancy to breastfeeding.

-Mod Bert

[egg-emperor]

In a cyberpunk world covered in smog, Eggman factories/theme parks and filled with scared civilians, empty shells, robotomized drones, robot servants, mind controlled slaves you'd probably be the only living being genuinely smiling and happy under Eggman's superior glorious rule. In a crowd full of frightened peasants and empty shells that given up any hope of freedom, singing the daily egg national anthem , the sheer genuine joy and enthusiasm on your face stands out like a beaming ray of light.

Your enthusiasm brings the egg immense joy, he would be pleased with your service and genuine loyalty.❤️

Yesss I love that. Most people were forced into it after he succeeded in taking over the world, whether by harm and threat or full robotomy and anyone who ever felt positively only did due to brainwashing or delusion of the kind of person he was and his plans for the world, until they actually had to live it

Now the world is dark and polluted with smog covering the skies and deadly theme parks, robots, and factories all around. There's no way to escape his powerful reign, it's all encompassing, taking up more and more of the land day by day and leaving everyone with no refuge from their new harsh reality

And all the people, his new slaves, stand lined up together now, forced to bow and sing praises to their new cruel, terrifying, diabolical emperor who towers high above them all, looking down on them so smugly with such pride, loving the high of the power and control as he makes them sing the daily anthem

Everyone has had their freedom ripped away, some to the point they can't think for themselves anymore and have become mindless drones from robotomy, trapped in robotic shells, or brains numbed and taken over by brainwashing or mind control and live as lifeless drones, chanting the anthem in monotone

And those who still have their mind intact to think are horrified and miserable, and ashamed if they were once deluded and helped allow it to happen. The anthem only forces them to come to terms with it as they're forced to sing words that affirm it, at gunpoint of the robots that surround them

While everyone else looks either miserable, scared, or blank and lifeless, with either crushed souls or devoid of one entirely, one face stands out in striking contrast to dull crowd, full of light and life and immense joy, with a bright passionate soul and adoration in his eyes and that's meee hehe 🥰

I sing passionately from the heart with great enthusiam, so delighted to celebrate our brilliant and handsome emperor. I'm the only one who is truly genuinely happy to live under his rule in a world that's been owned and changed by him in every way, with no delusions about it involved

I knew exactly what I was signing up for- not that I really had any choice or say anyway because the world was going to be his and he was going to do whatever he wants, no matter what we thought. But I think it's all so beautiful because it's what he wants and makes him happy so I want it for him too

He can immediately spot my smile standing out from the rest and it makes his smile grow into a wider grin. He's getting all the attention and praise he's always desired and never cared how much the people wanted it and was happy forcing them- but it does feel good that someone truly wants what he wants

Who is truly loving and loyal, passionately lives by the rules of the empire, and means every word of the anthem. Who looks at him with nothing but immense love and joy like he truly deserves. It's a big extra ego boost when he's already on top of the world figuratively and literally with it at his feet

I'd be even happier to see how it makes him happy to know he's deeply loved and appreciated and put an even bigger smile on his gorgeous face! 💜 And perhaps eventually he'd say "With enthusiam like yours, you should come up to the podium and announce my arrival before I make my epic entrance!"

I'd be honored to announce and say "All hail our beautiful, powerful, mighty emperor of the glorious Eggman Empire, Lord Eggman!", setting the example of how a true most loyal and faithful member of the empire should act, stepping down and bowing to him when he enters the spotlight with a prideful stride

The idea of him and I literally being the only truly ones happy left, himself for getting everything he's ever wanted and me because all I wanted was for him to get what he wanted is wonderful. And we get to be happy and enjoy and celebrate this new beautiful perfectly twisted world together. His world 😍

[ethosnap]

Honestly I kind of disagree with that read. Not that bdubs isn't important to him, but I feel like etho is number 1 to BDUBS. It's the other way around. Etho for the most part always seems like he's at a loss whenever someone pledges their loyalty to Him, probably because it's a kind of commitment he doesn't have much say in. I think he'll stick with the tuff guys up until bdubs (who BTW was the one that initially suggested that they do every man for themselves, but also, is the one that keeps them together the Most by declaring himself leader, holding group meetings etc) (That one time Etho was leader feels partly like he did it to annoy bdubs lol) either 1) dies or 2) tries to squeeze him for commitment

There hasn't been a single season where Etho was there and supporting Bdubs during his final death, even when they were allied! And I think that pattern is why Bdubs suggested that their team operate the way that they do, so maybe it wouldn't hurt as much. But in spite of their apparent commitment to individuality, Bdubs is still upset about Etho's alliance with the family while Etho touts himself as 'unaligned' whenever convenient. I mean why wouldn't he take full advantage of their 'arrangement'?

I definitely don't think it's because Etho is rejecting Bdubs, I think it's like.... A slight misalignment. I don't know if this will be the season that breaks the pattern, but I do know that Etho is a bit more of a survivalist than people think, and he has trouble reciprocating relationships that require him to place anything above his survival. He will do his best until things get rough, but he's never once died in a self-sacrificial, glorious way. His final death has always been a lonely, desperate affair.

In 3rd life he fights at a distance from everyone else, and burns to death in a pit, just a little too far and quiet for anyone to help him

In last life, he veers far from the group during their charge and gets picked off alone in the woods by joel

In limited life he also immediately loses pearl and impulse and gets tag teamed by the meangills. He hurts himself and falls to his death. It should also be noted that the timed factor of this series would repeatedly push him into taking initiative, but his initial plan was just to steal pearl's kill lol.

In secret life he gets hunted down and killed by scar, still alone.

Double life is conspicuously absent because there was physically no way for him to 'escape' his commitment to joel.

I think it would be a really interesting turn of events if he DID go down for the team that was Designed so he didn't have to do that though, which is why I presented it as a possibility, but it's also not in line with the trend.

Thinking about the conversation etho had immediately after joining the 4Gs

Etho: "I'm a terrible teammate"

Scott: "As long as you don't betray us"

Etho: "I mean I've been betraying pretty much everybody this... (reconsiders) but I'll do my best"

And then shortly afterwards

Etho: "Let's keep this on the down low a little bit as well, because... mhm mhm, let's pretend like it doesn't even exist"

He clearly isn't ready to commit to the team, so I'm curious to see what'll happen when more people start dying. Will he pick a hill to die on, or will he cling to whoever has the best shot at winning?

Either way, at the moment, the 4Gs seem like yet another alliance of convenience and not a serious commitment. He's okay with selling his loyalty for 'more options'.

[wild-at-mind]

USians you will be distressed to know that in the UK far right people use Trump flags, MAGA hats and even confederate flags to signify their allegiances to each other.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

happy mother's day lmfao

bonus (the girls are fightiiing):

[ahalliance]

how do i turn qantoine’s spontaneous marriage proposal to qetoiles into evidence of his early-days fear of qfrench drifing away and keeping secrets from one another

[blubble-lake]

it's been over 2 weeks and this thing (unfortunately) still has a grip on me

[colourfullanguages]

some days i feel like i was born to do great things, accomplish big stuff and other days i feel like i was just a big fish in a small pond and unfortunately here on out i'll just be a small fish in a big pond and other days i feel like i want to choose a normal life but the normal life was not meant for me because i was born to be outstanding but there are days when doing great things feel scary and i don't have the courage to pursue it so i feel i should just default to an ordinary path