#forms of measurement

[erisavernus]

we measure horses by hands and snakes by feet, that's messed up

[lucabyte]

Taking pride in One's own appearance.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

*tries to organize my thoughts*

*remembers i'm not in school and therefore beholden to neither heaven nor hell nor any man's grading system*

*joyously shredding & tossing all my carefully arranged 3x5 mental notecards into the air like so much beige confetti. raising my arms in victory, cheering raucously until i accidentally inhale bits of homemade confetti*

(*coughing up itty bits of paper like a cat evicting a hairball with a firm understanding of tenants' rights*) wait wat happens next

[m1d-45]

bloodletting

summary: a budding god needs a place to test their new powers, and childe was always a little too eager to lose a fight... a match made in heaven!

word count: 1.7k

-> warnings : minor AQ spoilers ? just like, general gi plot.. fairly graphic depiction of blood + other injuries (might be classed as body horror???). generally obsessive tendencies (childe <--> you). i cannot stress this enough, reader is 110% a sadist.

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

power was not something that came easy. it was fought over, stolen, defended with teeth and claw, tides of blood shed just so one could have power over another. social, physical, financial; no matter the leverage it provided, power was hard won. to give someone power was to admit defeat, a certain death that tartaglia had learned and taught more than his fair share of times. nobody undeserving of power ever held onto it for long; it was an acknowledgement that you were better, that you deserved it, that you’d won. power was a fickle resource that childe would kill to keep, only ever laying down his blade for a precious few.

the tsaritsa, of course. his fellow harbingers, skilled both on and off-field, who themselves could rival the archons. his family, for whom he’d happily give the world.

and naturally, who would be more worthy to hold power than you?

you, not just a god but the, the highest authority across all of teyvat. you bore a hundred names and a thousand monikers, your worship the one thing the world could agree on. granted, nobody could quite agree on how, but that was fine. childe did not need external powers to tell him what to do. he knew, in his deepest heart, that he had gotten it right.

he knew—and, on occasion, flaunted—that he was your favorite. of all the vessels you had chosen, you returned to him time and time again, wishing on his stars until his vision gleamed. his bow shone with power, even his weakest weapon more than enough to push his strength to new heights. part of him wondered what he could do if you’d granted him swords, or a claymore… but that was speculation for another time. didn’t it say something that you had still chosen him at his weakest?

the thought always made him smile. thick in the heat of puppeteered battle, before the sun to after dark, your presence was a constant in his life. at every altar, with every offering, when his hands stung from the rash of leather and his blade was covered in rust, your name a prayer behind blood-soaked teeth. he could not remember a time when his pocket was not weighted with a charm.

his devotion was no secret. he wore your bow with pride, entirely phasing out his other weapons. it didn’t matter that he was technically more controlled with them, for you had chosen this path for him. your word was his guide, a polar star through bitter nights.

he did not doubt when your presence ebbed or flowed. who was he to dictate when or where you spent your attention? no, his faith did not waver. it had no reason to. he waited patiently, going about his regular duties, lingering in snezhnaya for no other reason that he just felt like he had to.

who was he to question to buzzing in the back of his head? who was he to decline when he felt an instinct to leave, to go for a trip far past the city gates? who was he to think himself better than the guiding light that had never led him astray?

for you, he was whatever you needed. and so he went, armed with a thick coat and snowboots, hands shoved deep in the pockets to hide the slight shake. down the main road, an arbitrary turn into an alley and down an abandoned path, into a part of the city he’d never traveled. but a golden thread had tied itself around his heart, pulling without hesitation. he easily hopped over the fence gate, not bothering with hauling it open through the snow. the path beyond was covered in a thick layer of powder, his foot crunching through a foot of it before hitting solid ground. still, he continued.

snezhnayan winters were not warm. they bit and dug into every gap in your clothes, stealing away the precious warmth within. and yet, with his half-done coat and incomplete guard, he was not cold. or, rather, he couldn’t feel it. his hands were pink with frost, stiff at the knuckles, but he couldn’t feel the resistance. his body was not important, not now.

the snow began to thin. it fell from his knees to his shins to his ankles to his toes, until he was face to face with a thick wall of bramble, impossibly overgrown. he was beginning to overheat in his jacket. twin blades made quick work of the wall, and the sight behind it easily dispelled any breath left in his lungs.

the air that washed out of the bubble was thick and heavy, like a humid spring instead of snezhnayan woods. his breath came in short gasps, a shameful wheeze that he hoped was missed beneath the howling snow. he didn’t want you to see him as weak, as someone so easily tired by a short trip to a falling star; he didn’t want you to think of him as anything other than his best.

but you didn’t push him away. you helped him up—his head was buzzing with delusion, he could hardly see, when had he fallen to his knees?—and brushed the snow off his hair, not pushing him away when he leaned into your touch. he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could barely collect himself enough to recognize that he needed to get you inside, away from the wilds.

that was power. to so effortlessly take over every thought in his head, to hold his mind in your hands and pull it into your liking, that was the power he adored you for. gods were figureheads of power, a physical incarnation of their dominion. a god of the entire world would only naturally have power to manipulate that world to their liking. how blessed was he, that he could be the first you made yours.

he was with you when you first stepped into zapolyarny palace, looking around at the chandeliers and fine tile. he opened the door for you to her majesty’s throne room, sucking in a sharp breath as you brushed by. he was by your side when the tsaritsa swore you her fealty, delicately placing the gnoses in your hands.

and oh, how he’d fallen to the floor right then and there, dizzy from the wash of power that rolled off you in waves, an ocean that he willingly dove into. the floor was cool beneath his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin as sweat quickly began to bead. he didn’t bother pushing himself up on his hands, teeth sinking deep into his lip again to control his panting breath. copper bloomed over his tongue, filling his mouth and clogging what remained of his senses.

dimly, he was aware that he was being pathetic, that this would surely change your mind about him. he heard your voice, faint through the fog of his mind, your wisdom lost to his own inadequacy. and yet, despite his weakness, every part of him was tuned into you. he knew it was your hand whispering across his shoulders, he knew it was your influence that stole the breath from his lungs. he knew it was you, because it was always you. you were all he could think of, and now you were finally able to leverage your full power over his self.

he’d woken up in a hospital bed. saline dripped into his arm and the lights pierced his eyes, his head full of snow and iced over. and yet, the moment he was cleared for release, he found himself desperate to be back to your side, racing through the tiled halls of the palace and following the urgent burn in his chest. you would have been right to turn him away, to deem him too weak to stay by your side, but you didn’t. you smiled when he lost his breath and laughed when he wavered, brushing off his concern. you invited him with you—his lungs burned with the need for oxygen—as you twirled the gnoses between your fingers, as if they were toys or paperweights rather than objects of divine power.

divine to him. child’s play to you. a courtyard of snow was cleared in an instant, ripples of pyro melting permafrost while keeping the flora beneath intact, a lazy show of power that pulled little more than a slight hum from you in response.

he wasn’t so much a fool as to think he could teach you everything, or even something, about being divine. and yet he clung to your side like a sailor in a storm, watching as you grew familiar with the elements. he watched, stubborn and weak, as you stopped hesitating.

flowers bloomed as you walked by, crumbling to ash with the slightest look. electro jumped from your skin to his, a painful spark that drew his mind from his head, finally seeing your amused eyes instead of just mindlessly staring. you could—should—have just left him behind, but you didn’t. you instead asked for his help, taking his hand in yours and leading him to a quieter hallway of the palace. you didn’t comment on his thundering pulse despite the fact that you could certainly feel it, tracing a finger along the crease of his palm.

“i wonder…”

a claw of geo cut across his skin, a sharp sting that quickly welled with blood. he barely felt it, watching with detached awe as it filled up his hand, sliding over the edge and dripping to the floor. you didn’t show any emotion, just… watching. his heart beat in his hands, a pool collecting on the floor, and still, you just watched. your other hand moved over the surface, barely an inch away, the blood collecting in a bubble beneath it. with a hum, your fist tightened, pain lighting up his arm. a strained grunt slipped between his teeth, hand flinching closed, brushing against the ball of his blood you had pulled from his veins. his hand was stained red, shaking in your grasp, minutes stretched into hours.

all at once, it dropped, forced back into his body as forcefully as it was removed. with a snap, the skin stitched itself shut, and you were again dragging him along like a child did their favorite toy.

you did that a lot. pull him aside and experiment with whatever new reaction you had discovered that month, week, day, hour, watching his reactions with unabashed delight. and he let you. every time, without fail, he eagerly followed, knowing full well he’d end up rigid with lightning or with ice crystals studding his throat. it was worth it, though. you always fixed him up, squeezing his hand with a whispered ‘good job’ that never failed to make him dizzy.

it didn’t matter what you did to him. it never did. even when his mind was hazy with pain and he couldn’t quite stand on his own, he never regretted it. unconsciousness licked at the edges of his vision, burning black stains that lingered even after you stopped, but he never once hesitated.

if you asked him to jump, he’d ask how high. if you felt like holding him underwater, he’d cherish every bruise. to be kept as a toy was still to be kept.

[akiacia]

cake night highlights

[year2000electronics]

people whose posts where they’re bitching and complaining accidentally get into tag searches because tumblrs tag system is stupid and will drag every mention of a tag onto that tag’s search: i forgive you. and i love you. your post made me mad but that is your right to post on your blog. that is your Hater’s Sanctuary and it is just unfortunate that our paths have crossed like this.

people who bitch and complain and then put posts directly in the tag on purpose: i’m going to get you.

[baby-xemnas]

jjk movie zero parody

THIS IS PURE LOVE

[s0fter-sin]

soapghost circus au

ghost’s an extreme motorcycle stunt performer - globe of death, riding on his back wheel along tightropes, that sort of thing

soap’s a fire breather/dancer. he’s a roaming performer; he just finds empty spaces or bored people and starts twirling

he pretends not to notice the way he always wanders towards a certain tent every night to watch a certain masked daredevil defy gravity. he thinks he's slick and that ghost won't notice him in the crowd, completely forgetting that he's carrying something that happens to be on fire

ghost couldn't miss him if he tried

one day off, soap's trialing fire whips; he loves the loud crack and the way the flame licks through the air and maybe he's a little too impatient to practice with non flaming whips first, even though he's never used one before

he's covered in soot and fine welts where the tip of the whip keeps flicking back up at him, cutting through his shirt and stinging his skin but he doesn't let that stop him. it starts to stick to him, damp with sweat and blood and he's quick to strip it off; throwing it to the side to keep practicing

when soap finally gets a few good cracks in a row and breaks to celebrate, he almost jumps out of his skin when he sees the masked rider leaning against a trailer watching him

of all the times he's wanted ghost to talk to him, this is not one of them

he wanted to impress him, dance for him with his flaming batons and be mesmerised by his fluidity and skill

not catch him filthy and struggling with something as basic as a whip

he's ready for ghost to ream him out for not having control over the whip - he's known throughout the circuit for expecting utter perfection in his routines - but when ghost finally does speak, it's only to ask if he's done for the day

soap falters for a moment. he wanted to get some consistency with the whip before he stopped, but he's starting to feel the hours of practice; muscles aching and skin blistered with minor burns

he says he is and ghost pushes off the trailer, nodding his head to make soap follow. he brings him back to his trailer and tells him to clean up then takes out his personal med kit to treat the grazes on soap's skin

soap's shocked; for all that he loves to watch ghost perform, they've never really talked before

part of why he joined the circus was so he wouldn't be a burden on anyone, the oldest in a family with too many mouths to feed and not even time to nurture, and here he is taking up ghost's valuable practice time bc he wasn't good enough to handle his own discipline. he tries to brush him off, downplaying the burns and tries to leave before half them can be treated but ghost just glares and orders him to sit back down

ghost does expect perfection from himself but it isn’t out of any malice or ego; it's bc he knows if he isn't perfect, he could very easily die. he’s picked a dangerous profession and he gives it the respect it deserves. there isn't any shame in being a novice or failing at something; he thinks there's a lot of beauty in having the courage to get back up again and again

so every day he watches soap practice and bullies him into his trailer to put him back together bc he knows he won't do it by himself

and every night soap wanders over to ghost's section of the fair grounds, in awe of his skill and wishing he could be worthy of the care he gives him

[canisalbus]

How tall IS machete exactly?(with and without heels)

Hh this is really really tricky, I'm genuinely truly abysmal at perceiving and comparing the heights, weights and sizes of anything ever. I think he'd be around 6 feet / 180 cm without heels, and the heels are something like 3 to 4 inches / 8-10 cm on average? That's not counting the ears, which could add roughly 7 inches / 18 cm if fully perked up.

Since Vasco's boots have more moderate heels and they're still very equally matched, he would probably be closer to 6'3 / 190 cm with shoes on?

Don't take this as gospel, I'm twisting myself into knots trying to visualize this stuff. They're supposed to be big dogs, both above average height in their circles, but not so tall it would really catch your eye in a crowd.

[starry-bi-sky]

more cfau miscellaneous things because Childhood Friends Danny and Jason have my head and heart always and I need to finish rewriting chapter two dammit (and redo the half-finished chapter 4 because its just Not The Vibes). i'm almost through I need to get through the graveyard scene. (i just stubbornly refuse to have it be shorter than the original chapter and thats the little death. that is the mind killer.)

Danny and jason’s ghost forms both smell faintly like burnt flesh and cigarettes. However, Jason has a more smokey smell while Danny’s smells almost,,, electrical? In a sense? Like he just straight up smells like burnt flesh and sulphur while Jason smells like someone put him in a smoker first.

It’s very much an unpleasant smell but Danny finds an odd comfort in it just as much as he finds a comfort in the smell of nicotine.

(Jason post-revival smells burnt flesh once and is immediately offput by the fact that it brings him an instinctive comfort. He doesn’t realize its because it reminds him of Danny, and is uncomfortable by it.)

-

In an au of an au, Danny’s altercation with Rath ends with Rath regaining enough of his sanity to snap out of the grieving state and ends with him breaking down. Instead of being souped and imprisoned, Rath, who is permanently 14, decides to Move On into the unknown. He’s exhausted, heartbroken, and tired.

(Is this influenced heavily by the ParaNorman scene where he talks to Agatha and helps her move on? Yes. But it doesn’t fit with the Original Storyline so im shoving it into an Au of an Au.)

Rath tells Danny that Jason lied to them (which he genuinely believes), and that he’s tired of waiting/looking for him/grieving. Jason is gone. He isn’t coming back, he abandoned them. And he wants his mom and dad, and his sister, and his friends. And he’s ready to join them.

He leads Danny out to Gotham, which other than Amity Park might’ve been the only city left untouched due to Rath’s own mental block on the place. They go out to the park he and Jason used to frequent or up to one of crime alley’s rooftops, and there Rath lies down and goes to sleep. Only to never wake up again, materializing into nothing as his soul moves on.

Before Rath leaves, he forces Danny to promise him that he’ll only wait for Jason for ten years. After that if he doesn’t find him, or if Jason doesn’t show, then Danny has to move on. Whether that be like how Rath does, or if its inly mentally/emotionally, doesn’t matter. He has to move on. Don’t wait for him. Don’t waste his time any more.

(“Oh, and if you find him, kick his ass for me.”)

Danny reluctantly agrees, and Rath lies down. Danny sings to him as he falls asleep.

(Angsty points if the vigilantes including Red Hood caught wind of their presence and were silently watching from the shadows. Rath might know they’re there, but Danny’s too focused on Rath to notice.)

(If only so that Red Hood realizes that this is what happened to Danny, and that Danny is gone before he can make things right. The tragedy, folks. The angst. The initial realization that Danny was Rath, and then also that Danny was dead and has been dead for years, and that before he moved on, he moved on believing that Jason abandoned him.)

(like i said it doesn't fit in the original timeline/storyline hence why its an au of an au and isn't nearly a fleshed out, but i was largely just focusing on the tragedy of Rath moving on and Jason being alive to see it and realize just who Rath is.)

-

Just like how the Lazarus pits shot Jason's twiggy 4'6-5'4 (depending on what you find) feet tall and 86lb ass up like a tree an essentially fixed his malnutrition, the portal did the same thing for Danny.

(granted i forgot about malnutrition and danny's likely stunted growth at first -- his family lived in crime alley and despite both his parents working, I don't think they had enough food all the time. He probably wasn't as badly malnourished as Jason was, but he wasn't healthy either.)

Granted his ghost in its "natural" state (14) is short, and his growth spurts were slow at first, it did result in him reaching his dad's height. There were points where it just happened overnight, like a baby. He went to bed one night 5’6 and woke up the next day 5’10.

Jazz is shorter than him. Although I have't decided if she's even liminal at all (and if she is, it didn't cure everything because she would have also suffered childhood malnutrition, and since in au canon their parents didn't get their hands on physical ectoplasm until after they got to Amity Park. So the exposure is less.)

-

Danny's voice absolutely sounds like canon Dan's. It kinda just dropped one day when he was 16-17 and never went back up. Sam and Tucker sometimes ask him to just talk about anything because they find his voice soothing.

I'm not sure yet how Danny would feel about it at first considering Rath, but I imagine that Rath, when he did speak, would have had a quieter and scratchier/weaker voice considering he's spent the last decade shrieking and crying.

(and i suppose technically that shouldn't have any effect on his throat considering he's a ghost and idk if that would actually affect him, but i like the idea so im keeping it)

In the beginning you could hear him from a mile away by the sound of his loud, echoing wails, but ten years later you can only really hear him by the soft, shuddering sobs he makes. Like he's gasping for air that isn't there. The future is full of very quiet survivors.

And it's much easier to speak when you pitch your voice upwards (especially when whispering/speaking quietly) so he might've spoken in a higher, airy pitch in order to be heard. So Danny might actually find a comfort in having a lower voice.

[tikoaztite]

I rarely, if ever, post my art online, and I’m definitely ridiculously new to fan-merch making- but I recently got a flash of inspiration and I’m considering making stickers! I’ve always loved those silly character popsicles that always came out looking weird, and with summer just around the corner, these guys felt pretty seasonal!

It might be a little bit out of my price range to get these produced just yet— so I’m putting these out there as a general interest check. >:) As of right now, these are all MAJOR works in progress- the designs you see here are just proofs of concept! (Also I’m a little too paranoid to post the final designs i HAVE completed just yet, LMAO)

Input of all types is greatly appreciated!

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

Does the no "Game of Thrones" policy on your ask page also related to "House of the Dragon" or a question (mine was going to be about Arya's stab from the dark and the Aegon's prophetic "A Song of Ice and Fire" dream) where it's about "House of the Dragon" and also touches on "Games of Thrones"?

Honestly, my reaction to being reminded of GOT-only storylines, even today, is "those fucking hacks never knew what the fuck they were doing, who gives a flying fuck about their fucking stupid plot twists they did only because "[Jon] just didn’t seem right to us for this moment", matching their usual fucking stupid "Creatively it made sense to us, because we wanted it to happen", so yeah, don't ask me about Game of Thrones.

[wolfieolfie]

cringetober day 13: creepypasta

LAZARIIIIIIIII

[vagun1ka]

yanfei and her dear people

[sleeplesssmoll]

yet another question because i like your analyses ... what do you consider to be vertin's love language? what's her favourite to give and what's her favourite to receive. also can i ask the same for sonetto and schneider

The way my brain works is it latches into certain personality traits or in game events and then tries to find context in game to deepen these ideas/theories. A lot of these ideas end up getting exaggerated and honestly a new piece of in-game lore could change how I feel about them. Ngl, I started getting self-indulgent with this one. With that little disclaimer out of the way, here we go!

Vertin as the giver: The Provider

She can be over the top with her grand displays of affection, but Vertin will love you like she is going to lose you. Due to the Storm, she very well might.

Physical touch! Especially holding hands or touching people's hair. this post has all evidence your honor.

Providing for / fulfilling desires. Will spoil her loved ones rotten.

Your happiness is her happiness, but that also means your dissatisfaction/sadness/anger is her failure.

Will support your ideas, dreams, and from time to time, your mischief.

Will compliment and praise you. Cheesy but endearing.

Doesn't like mornings, but will always wake up with you.

If you say you lie about not wanting food (she can tell), she'll order more than she can eat by herself and ask you for "help". She always orders food with the intention of sharing

Wants to take you on trips and try new things together.

Attentive to your reactions and body language. It seems like she can read your mind at times, which makes things easier. Unfortunately, you can't read hers...

Vertin as the recipient: Comfortable as a Lover, Uncertain as the Loved.

In her mind, she is the one who is supposed to be providing for you so when someone does “too much” for her, she feels like she's taking advantage of them or letting them down in some way

Will hardly ask for anything aside from occasional favors. However, she'll always accept gifts no matter how bizarre or dangerous. Give her a rock and she'll treasure it in her room. Ugly shirt as a gag gift? She'll definitely wear it.

Likes to be involved and engaged in activities alongside you. Invite her to do things you're interested in/hobbies 

Unlike Smoltin, the Timekeeper doesn't share many of her interests. She's too busy accomodating the needs of others. Ask her to play the piano or that you'd like to see her paintings. This will create an opportunity for her to open up about things she likes under the guise of doing a service for you. Really, it'll benefit both parties. NOTE: rejecting these aspects of her or dismissing her when she tries to share something with you is a big no-no. She'll stop trying to open up. (Smoltin would keep trying, but the Timekeeper will respect your perceived disinterest)

While she can "read your mind", confirming your thoughts wouldn't hurt. Let her know you enjoy doing things together or if anything is bothering you. You opening up to her is a huge deal for her! She wants to do everything she can for you and having your trust means a lot to her.

Ironically, Vertin will never tell you “everything” and that's something you have to accept. It's not even a trust thing, but due to the way she perceives time. She values her time with you and doesn't want to ruin these precious moments with negativity since time is so fleeting. She'd rather stay positive in case that day happens to be your last day together.

If an argument does occur, Vertin is the one who gets banished to the couch. However, she usually offers on her own when she knows what's coming. Even when arguing, she still wants her loved one to be as cozy as possible. She won't allow them sleep on the couch. She doesn't like arguing and will try to make things better as soon as possible.

Sonetto as the giver: The Guard Dog

Loyalty and protectiveness (comes with possessiveness) . Will sacrifice herself for her loved ones.

Nurturing; despite people thinking she's always going to obey, Sonetto will tug on the leash if anything endangers her loved ones; including her loved ones themselves. Expect a “debate” (it's not really a debate because she won't budge until you yield) on why you need to take care of yourself or else she'll do it for you.

Clingy; Just wants to be close. Doesn't like being separated

Learning about you; she wants to be part of your life not just a bystander in it. Your favorite foods, colors, etc. She wants to know everything!

Putting up with a lot. She will follow you to hell and back. She won't approve a bad decision, but will stick around because she doesn't want you to get hurt.

Will learn new skills just to help you. If she can't do something for you now, she'll work to become someone who can in the future.

Sonetto as the Recipient: The Puppy

Wants physical intimacy but is sometimes uncertain on how to initiate. Hugs, hand-holding, kisses, she wants it all. Will initiate once she feels more confident.

Verbal praise! Let her know she's done well or compliment her.

Reaffirmation. Tell her you like her to remove doubts (you'd be surprised how powerful telling a loved one “I love you” is. Propaganda to tell an important person in your life you love them because you'll never know when the last day you can say it will come.)

Encourage her to embrace her curiosity and explore the world with her. Be patient with her as she figures things out. Even better, be proud of her.

Helping her with her crosswords in the newspaper is great for bonding time. Also likes to have meals together

Won't steal your food but she makes puppy eyes at you without realizing. Food will be shared both ways.

She likes poetry and books the most but she's happy to receive anything from her beloved.

Big doggy, but little spoon. This is one is purely self-indulgence because big doggies alway act like cuddly puppies. Puppnetto is Canon.

Will never banish her loved ones to the couch. She doesn't stay mad long enough for that and will want to cuddle even if she's angry. Her puppy eyes make her immune to banishment as well.

Schneider as the giver: Bloody Valentine

Will kill for you and die for you 

Will never keep her hands of the person she loves. PDA is imminent.

Flirty, playful, but likes to have serious and deeper conversations from time to time. This is a sign she likes you.

Clingy, but will disappear on you randomly to see if you chase her. Will reward you with lots of attention once you find her.

Will always choose her loved ones above all else

Schneider as the recipient: Wants The Love she Never Had

While she was the backbone for her family, she is a spoiled brat with her beloved. Attention, thoughtful gifts & gestures, and everything else she didn't have as a child (or had to earn herself) are expected.

Schneider values Stability and Loyalty in her partners. Despite her tough talk, she spent a majority of her life providing shelter for her family and dragging them out of poverty at her own expense. She wants someone who will stick beside her through thick and thin, despite the chaos in her life. NOTE: Sometimes she'll do something crazy just to see how her loved one would react

While she likes to tease and menace her loved ones, she will always remind them how much she loves them. She is someone who will prove it too.

Doesn't like to listen. She must be persuaded.

Dates to public places are fine, but when she's really into someone she'd rather spend more time alone with them.

Wants 6 kids, a dog, a cat, and a bird. She had 11 sisters! She's being reasonable here.

Is the one who keeps the bed and banishes people to the couch if she's mad. However, her loved ones will wake up in the middle of the night to find her sleeping against them on the couch. She loves you even when she can't stand you putting pineapple on pizza.

When it comes to food, what's yours is her's. Food thief! But, she'll be more than happy to feed you the same food she just nicked off your plate.

[unityrain24]

Not A Person

"because of this curse•body•culture•bone•blood, i am nothing but an animal•monster•savage•creature•weapon. not a person"

mixed media [ink, paper, dictionary pages, pencil, digital], collage