#i spent my dollars by god ill make THIS WORK

[theslimeologist]

THIS is the destructive power of autism

[samwisefamgee]

how does this week keep getting worse wtf

[isildheir]

Honestly, my abuser saying Louis was just as bad as Lestat or basically implying they hate how people write Lestat off as more abusive than he is or that Louis was just as abusive was a red flag I should've put a lot more stock into.

[hoffmansgirl]

MILLION DOLLAR MAN. ━ father charlie mayhew ⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 ✿ ⋆˚⊹

∙ a/n. took ages but it's based on this thought of mine & a lana del rey song (loosely) ♡ this shit is really kinky & not for everyone, PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS! i'm sorry...

∙ warnings. PURE FILTH. i mean it. corpses, death, all that grotesquerie stuff... slight masochism!? charlie and reader are equally mentally ill... really. blood kink, blasphemy, charlie refers to himself as "god", praise, oral (f&m receiving), multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, knife play, whipping, crying, blood once again. ∙ wc. 3534

❝ 𝕿hat's... beautiful", you smiled, staring at Charlie's work; twelve corpses ━ homeless people, to be exact ━ positioned to resemble The Last Supper.

You couldn't help but smirk at the sight; the man Charlie put in the middle was positioned in a way that represented Jesus. You knew him; he had asked you for money many times, claiming he was hungry ━ you had suspected he spent every penny on meth, though.

You believed Charlie wholeheartedly when he claimed that all he did was for greater good. You weren't scared nor worried ━ if anything, you admired him and his dedication to everything he believed in. You watched him stand in the middle of the abandoned Church, admiring his own work; the image making your heart beat faster. He was covered in blood of his victims, and you should feel ashamed for the heat pooling low in your stomach ━ but you didn't.

Your careful steps echoed in the air as you walked over to Charlie, and he was quick to wrap his arms around you, his chest pressing against your back, covering your little dress with blood in the process.

A rush of adrenaline filled your chest as you hummed, Charlie's touch gentle and soft ━ as you looked at the blasphemous image in front of you, you wondered how'd he get that way. He never talked about his past; saying that all he needed was now, in front of him, clear as day.

"Look at our masterpiece, Angel", his low voice cut through the air like a knife ━ and in the moment you realised that maybe he was worth cutting yourself for.

"Our? I barely did anything", you chuckled, his presence behind you comforting; he was so big, muscular, making you feel safe; how ironic, you thought, looking at the image in front of you.

Charlie's crimson hand lingered on your neck, before he grabbed your chin, making you turn your head towards him.

"You're here, with me", he whispered, his words meaningful, familiar spark in his eyes; the very one that made you fall in love with him. Charlie's thumb rubbed against your lower lip, smearing the blood all over it, adoration overcoming his features as he looked at you. "And it's enough".

You turned to face him fully, taking his thumb into your mouth slowly; Charlie's eyes darkened and he swallowed hard, pressing it down on your tongue. You swirled your tongue around his digit, lapping at the blood, the taste making your head spin. You held onto his forearm, and he pulled you closer, grabbing a fistful of your hair, his sick need matching your own.

Before you knew it, you were pressed flush against the wall with Charlie's lips on yours ━ tongues meeting in a chaotic dance, rolling over each other messily.

"I'd follow you anywhere", you breathed out when he moved down to nib at your neck. He let out a low groan, the sound vibrating against your throat in the most delicious way. "Anywhere".

"The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?", you chanted, your knees cushioned by the padded kneeler. Charlie hummed softly; your words filled the air like the most beautiful song.

A mix of incense and Charlie's strong cologne reached your nostrils, somewhat comforting and calming as you felt his presence behind you.

"Beautiful", he muttered, almost as if he was speaking to himself. Your heart fluttered at the praise as you shifted, the sheer dress you wore rising up your thighs with the movement. "Go on".

"The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?", your eyes opened, lashes fluttering at the sight of Charlie; he towered over your kneeling form, looking down at you with a hint of awe and adoration in his features. You eyed his chest, covered only by a see-through, white gown ━ he looked like an angel, which, in your eyes, he was.

"And who is your Lord?", Charlie's hand was now in your hair, forcing you to meet his hard, demanding gaze. You meant it when you answered: "You. It's you, Charlie. You're the only God I want to worship".

He expected these words to leave your mouth, but he could never tire of hearing them. You spoke with such confidence, not a trace of regret or fear in your voice, and his his cock twitched at the sight; you were so obedient, so good to him.

Charlie offered you a hand, which you gladly accepted, getting up from the kneeler. Your legs shook slightly as he pulled you close, one of his hands on your face, the other grabbing your hip. His thumb brushed against your cheek, the gesture gentle and loving, his eyes scanning over your face.

"You've been so good for me", he whispered, and you leaned into his touch, pressing your body even closer to his; it simply was never enough. "I love you".

His lips pressed against yours, deliberately and slowly, as if you had all the time in the world. His smell lingered in the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Charlie bit your bottom lip, drawing blood in process, lapping at the crimson liquid greedily, careful not to miss a drop. You whined, and Charlie was quick to lift you up in his arms, walking over to the altar.

You tried to deepen the kiss, but Charlie had other plans, dropping you on a wooden chair; the very one he sat in during masses and preaches.

"Greed is a sin", he whispered in a serious tone, brushing his lips against yours for the last time, before he fell to his knees before you. "Patience, my Angel".

You watched with wide eyes and heaving chest as Charlie spread your legs as wide as he could, lifting your dress ━ he gazed up at you, caressing the soft skin of your thighs with his big hands. You shivered when he tugged at the waistband of your lacy thong, and your hips rose up immediately, allowing him to pull it down your legs.

The cold air hitting your ━ now exposed ━ pussy made you gasp, as you clutched the edges of the chair tightly. Charlie chuckled darkly, watching the way your little hole clenched in anticipation.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pressing soft kisses around your pussy, giving you a sneak peek of what was about to come.

"You're mine to worship", he bit back a moan at the taste of your soft skin, and he didn't even get to the best part yet. "Mine to love", he met your gaze, and you nodded mindlessly, getting lost in his dark irises. "Mine to fuck".

As soon as the words left his mouth, he licked a deliberate stripe from your opening to your clit. Your head fell back, the rush of sitting on the specific chair while having his mouth on you made you feel so powerful. Charlie's tongue moved with purpose, circling around your clit slowly, before sucking it into his mouth. Your breaths came out in shallow gasps, the occasional groans leaving his mouth vibrating against your core, causing you to shake in his grasp.

"Charlie, fuck", you moaned, tugging at his hair, knowing how much he liked it. His eyes fluttered shut as he teased your entrance with the very tip of his tongue, lapping at the arousal that continued to drip out of you. "God, I'm━ I'm sorry, I'm gonna cum", you cried out; the endless flicks of his tongue, the groans leaving his mouth, the sight of his beautiful face between your legs ━ it became too much, fire pooled in your lower abdomen, ready to explode any second now.

Your loud cry echoed across the empty church as you came, and Charlie's eyes snapped open to watch as your face twisted in pleasure, a mixture of curses and shallow gasps leaving your mouth, and he swore he could cum from the sight alone.

He lapped at your pussy, eager to taste every single drop you had to offer. You twitched in overstimulation, slowly coming down from your high, sighing in relief when Charlie moved to kiss your inner thighs lovingly.

Not even five minutes later, you were already in Charlie's room, bloody clothes laying all over the floor; the memory of your latest crime, how you stood by his side the whole time ━ it made Charlie even needier.

You run your hands over his biceps at which desperate groan left his mouth ━ then he was quick to take the butt-less leather chaps and gown off his body before pushing you onto the bed.

Sick smile appeared on Charlie's mouth as he grabbed the metal-covered whip, along with a knife from his drawer; a rush of adrenaline run down your spine at the sight.

You took a second to admire his well-trained body as his back faced you, his muscles clenching as he moved around the room to get everything he needed. You were already breathless, and when he started moving towards you, his gaze predatory and dangerous, you were shaking. Not an ounce of fear in your body as he placed the items on the bedside table, his cock bobbing in the air as he walked; your mouth watered at the sight and his size that never failed to amaze you.

"Get on the floor". The harshness of his voice was enough for you to obey, sinking down on your knees right in front of him. "Worship your man. Let's see if you can handle me", he teased, knowing that in fact, you could, even if you struggled and choked. He challenged you, but you just smiled, knowing that the tables would turn soon enough.

"You know I can, Father", his cock twitched at the nickname ━ before he could respond, you were already grabbing his thighs, face to face with his giant cock, pressing a soft kiss on the tip. He hummed, satisfied, running a hand through your hair, tugging at it, forcing you to open your mouth a little wider. You smirked up at him before obeying, taking his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue and pressing it against the underside. You hollowed your cheeks, beginning to bob your head, taking more and more of him in the process, getting used to his size slowly but surely.

"Fuck, you have the dirtiest little mouth", Charlie groaned, watching you, beginning to thrust into your mouth as he grew needier. You struggled as he hit the back of your throat, your eyes falling open to look at him. His head fell back, chest heaving with uneven breaths, and you pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you to him, still. You quickly replaced your mouth with your hands, wrapping them around his shaft, jerking him off. Your tongue darted out to lap at his balls, massive and full of cum, and a satisfied moan left your mouth; you loved pleasuring him almost as much as he loved seeing you on your knees for him.

Shameless groan left Charlie's mouth, your small hands around him and your mouth on his balls driving him crazy. "I need to feel you. Now".

Your eyes fell open and you moved to take him in your mouth again, causing Charlie to hiss, taking a mental note to punish you for disobeying him later. Yet he couldn't pull away, not now ━ not when your mouth felt so good, so warm and welcoming. He thrusted his hips lazily, and you stopped your movements, letting him take the lead.

"You fucking love it, don't you? You love choking on my dick. You love letting me use your mouth however I please", he panted, feeling himself getting close, the obscene sounds leaving your mouth only spurring him on further. You tried to nod, which was nearly impossible with the speed in which he was fucking your throat.

"I'm gonna cum. Fuck, swallow it, swallow it all", he hissed, head falling back; your nails digged into his thighs, soft moan leaving your occupied mouth, and that seemed to be his last straw.

His cock twitched, and spurts of his hot cum finally painted your tongue and the back of your throat.

He pulled off your mouth with a swift movement, and you swallowed every single drop, the taste making you whimper, as you tried to catch your breath.

"Good fucking girl. Show me", he grabbed your chin, pressing his thumb against your lower lip; you obeyed, chest heaving with uneven breaths and throat sore, as you sticked your tongue out. His eyes darkened, a satisfied hum leaving his mouth, before he forced you to stand up, only to practically throw you on the bed like a doll.

Charlie grabbed the knife from a nightstand; your eyes widened and your legs closed, a spark of excitement running down your spine.

Charlie spread your legs, kneeling in between them; knife forgotten for just a second as he tugged at your dress, determined to get it off your body. It was thrown on the floor in an instant, and he was already lining himself up with your entrance.

You moaned in unison when his tip stretched you out ━ smug smile adorning his face at the visible impatience building within you.

"You're so tight", he rasped, pressing your thigh against the mattress. You cried out when he buried himself inside of you fully in one, swift movement. Your walls struggled to adjust to his size, and you tried to catch your breath. "So warm. My God. You really are an Angel, aren't you?", Charlie muttered, grabbing the knife while beginning to thrust into you ━ and your pussy clenched at the sight.

Then he pressed the flat side of the knife against your skin; the coldness on your burning skin made you gasp. The feeling of Charlie's thick cock fucking into you over and over again, combined with the thrill of being completely at his mercy making you gush.

"You have no idea how badly I want to cut my name into your skin", he groaned, pressing the blade into your skin lightly. You gripped at the sheets and your head fell back. The sound of your skin slamming together filled the room, along with your cries, and Charlie's loud breathing.

"Do it", you begged, and Charlie's hand wrapped around your throat, cutting your airflow in an instant.

You should be scared; he was the one having all the control, and, most importantly, he held the knife against your skin. Yet, in your sick mind, there was no room for fear ━ not when he slammed into you as if his life depended on it, mumbling incoherent praises right above you.

The truth was, you had all the power over him; he sacrificed everything for you, only for you.

So when the blade pressed into the skin on your chest, cutting through it, some blood flowing out of the wound ━ all you did was moan, feeling your orgasm taking over you slowly ━ and Charlie's hand left your throat, letting you take a deep breath.

"I'm going to cum", you cried out, the sharp sting of where he cut a big C into your skin leaving you whimpering.

Your blood covered his chest and stomach as he leaned down to press his forehead against yours, running the flat side of his knife over your cheek. The pain combined with pleasure of his restless thrusts sent you spiralling, and your back arched into the air as you soaked his cock.

"Good fucking girl. Come on, give me everything you got", he talked you through the waves of pleasure, sick smile on his face as he watched you cry from overstimulation. You took a second to calm down, enjoying the way he was balls deep inside you, pressing wet kisses down your neck. His hips grinded against yours involuntarily when he reached the bloody C carved out on your chest; he greedily licked at the wound, groaning at the taste.

You whimpered, letting him clean you of your own blood, before you gained enough strength to push him back against the bed, sinking down on his cock.

Charlie's eyes widened ━ he was partially surprised at your sudden dominance; he wouldn't let you do it often; but this time, it just felt right.

You lifted yourself enough to reach the whip from the nightstand. Charlie understood; he understood immediately, sitting up, as you sink down on his thick cock yet again. Some more blood flowed down your body, and he was unable to look away, his eyes almost pleading.

"How many?", you asked casually, although your voice was strangled, your cunt spasming around him in anticipation.

But there was no answer from him. So, smiling wildly, you swinged and whipped his back; the metal cutting through his skin.

Charlie cried out, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips. The pain left him trembling, and you were quick to press a soft kiss against his lips. Charlie responded immediately, whimpering into your mouth, his hips snapping upward to meet yours.

"I asked you a question", you whispered, tugging on his hair.

"I... Five. Angel━ J-Just move", he pleaded, and you smiled sweetly; the contrast between the delicious roll of your hips and the whip cutting through his skin yet again made him lightheaded, and he only imagined how much blood flowed from the wounds.

"You're doing so good for me", you praised, beginning to ride him in an inhuman speed, switching between grinding your hips down and bouncing on his big cock. The stretch made you moan, and Charlie was unable to speak, feeling as if he could cum any second now.

Third whip and he was begging you to stop, yet you knew that's not what he wanted. His eyes pleading and wide, and before he knew it, he was cumming inside of you, biting on your shoulder, a desperate cry leaving his mouth.

"Good boy", and you bounced faster, trying to distract him from the pain as you lashed him for the fourth time. "Doin' so good for me. You need to take this. It's your penance". And he was nodding, knowing you were right ━ and he was ready to take any kind of punishment if it meant he could be with you.

After the fifth and last whip, Charlie fell back on the bed, his chest heaving with uneven breaths. He was paralysed ━ more from the pleasure and overstimulation than pain. You let the whip fall on the floor, giving him a minute to breathe.

But Charlie was needy ━ no, he was desperate to feel you trembling under him. A squeal left your mouth when he lifted you off him, pressing your upper half flush against the bed. You arched your back, dizzy from pleasure and need ━ your hips grinding into the air in search of his cock again.

Charlie plunged into you again with one, swift movement, feeling as if he could cum again just at the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him deliciously.

You were a whimpering mess when he started thrusting into you in an inhuman speed ━ and you were almost convinced that you could feel his cock in your throat from how deep he was.

"Say my name", he demanded, tugging on your hair, yanking your head back to rest against his chest. The change of angle caused you to gasp, and you did exactly what he asked: screamed his name, the sound echoing through the room and corridor. "You're taking me so good", he stilled for a moment, letting you buck back into him, enjoying the way your ass bounced with every movement.

Charlie, unable to control himself, spanked your ass, obsessed with the way your skin got red, the crimson handprints contrasting with your pale skin.

He let you fuck yourself on his cock, a creamy ring appearing at the base ━ his cum leaking out of your used hole with every sway of your hips. You clenched, holding onto his thighs for balance, and Charlie let go of your hair only to tilt your head towards him.

Your clouded eyes met his, and Charlie smiled lovingly, pressing his lips against yours ━ sweetly and gently.

"Cum for me, Angel", he whispered as you grinded your hips down, almost passing out from the intense pleasure. Your skin felt hot, legs ready to give out any second now.

Charlie sensed it immediately, and he helped you by thrusting up into you, meeting you halfway, a satisfied moan leaving both of you.

It wasn't long until he came inside of you, filling you to the brim for the second time. His orgasm triggered your own. Charlie caressed your sides until you stopped shaking, whispering soft praises into your ear.

A few minutes later you were cleaning Charlie's back, muttering occasional "sorry" when he hissed in pain.

"I'm taking you on a trip tomorrow", he said softly, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your delicate hands taking care of his back. You nodded, not pressing any further.

As long as you were with him, nothing else mattered.

hoffmansgirl © 2024

ꗃ ⋆ ࣪ . nicholas chavez masterlist 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ | request here ♡

[witchhatproductions]

Witch Hat News #4 - Lessons from the Archives

by Tata Calthrop

This is an archived version of our microfiction newsletter! You can read along on our tumblr, or subscribe here.

Which archive, you may ask? Well, it's quite simple.

Our own one.

Yes, like many twenty-somethings in the creative field now, I was forged in a rather specific fire – the classic Internet pipeline of Neopets, Deviantart, Tumblr, Twitter, usually interspaced at some point with either a gender crisis or a formal diagnosis of mental illness.

You see, for a young nerdy preteen in 2010, you have two sexy choices made available to you, neither of which you will perceive until it's too late. You will choose either the path of solitude (voraciously consuming and creating content in incredible loneliness and feeling like the only person in the world who does so), or the path of the internet, where you will learn at an incredibly young age how to receive and handle a death threat. I was raised on a raw, unfiltered diet of fandom. (Sonic the Hedgehog. The world has not been kind to me.)

The fans and the hermits have a lot to teach each other. In fact, as easy as it is to make fun of – well – most people on the internet, there is something valuable to be learned from every subculture of creativity, including the horny ones. 

So let me make a confession to you: I'm a fanfiction writer. I have a shameful record of 155,821 words, none of which will ever give me a scrap of credibility with anyone, including other fanfiction writers. (Heavy is the head that wears the dunce hat of Adventure/Comedy.) Hell, I've spent over a year picking away at a fancomic project. For zero dollars and no publication accolades, I have written at least five full completed novellas, which will never be published, be recognised, or prove anything except my big, fat crush on the uncle from Encanto.

My god, was it freeing.

The social pressure to monetize your art is insane. I took my first art commission before I even had my first bank account. It was my teenage dream: to be paid is to obtain credibility. The label will hang over your head like an execution hood: PROFESSIONAL. Of course, the loop never really stops; start making money and suddenly your eyes are open to how many opportunities you're missing, and how little you make compared to others, and how wide the chasm is between you and full-time creation. 

(That's not to say the money and recognition aren't nice! That part I do recommend.)

But making fan content, and making friends who also make fan content, and building up a small audience of people who just want to be there for fun is incredibly liberating when you're not used to it. Get a bunch of friends who create together, join a community that makes its own memes and creates a bubble of mutual feedback and appreciation, and you start to realise: this is how they made the old tales, the oral ones before the printing press.

Here's two lessons from the archives.

Love characters. Fall in love with their vulnerable moments, their jokes, their relationship dynamics, the little unseen parts of them that you can never put in a real story because there's simply no point. Linger on the details. Develop a little crush. Project all your issues and obsess over nothing. Love your own characters, and you'll find suddenly that creating art about them changes from a chore to an act of affection. Learn what makes you fall in love with other stories, and look for the same aspects in your own.

Making art to impress a large audience will disappoint you; making art to impress a social circle of about ten interested people is how life is supposed to be lived. The early humans who painted mammoths on cave walls had no audience except themselves.

Here's a quote I like, from Prof. Henry Jenkins, Provost Professor of Communication, Journalism and Cinematic Arts at University of Southern California: "Contemporary Web culture is the traditional folk process working at lightning speed on a global scale. The difference is that our core myths now belong to corporations, rather than the folk.”

Here's another quote I like, from twitter user @FarfinFarfin: "the fastest way to improve your art is to become some sort of pervert, doesn't really matter what kind, whatever you're comfortable with". 

Reviews

The Northern Caves by @nostalgebraist. The Northern Caves is a cosmic horror story about unwary scholars who delved too deep into the ancient texts, except the scholars are a group of hardcore nerds on an early 2000s fan forum for a mediocre fantasy series, and the ancient texts are fan theories about the author's baffling final novel. I know almost nothing about original fiction on Archive of Our Own, but I recognise a wonderfully online scary story when I see one. Psychological, terrifying, and twistedly fascinating reading for anyone who's ever watched an online community implode.

Songs for Girls in Love by @phemiec. PhemieC was one of my favourite musicians as a teenager, and when I got into my first relationship I rushed into the familiar arms of their love songs. They also were making, at the time, Homestuck fansongs. But when I was 15, this music made more of an impact on me than any classic musician ever could. Songs for Girls In Love has a number of fansongs mixed in, largely for things I've never consumed, but you'd never know it from their lyrical subtlety and I'm still a huge fan. 

Digital Land Grab: Media corporations are stealing our cultural heritage. Can we take it back? By Henry Jenkins. Okay, okay, this one's not exactly micro or fiction of any sort. But it is the article that I quoted earlier, and Prof. Jenkins could be described as the grandfather of fanwork studies in academia. A good read about the history and creative validity of fanwork, and the ways in which corporations suppress it. I highly recommend it, even if you know nothing about fanfiction.

Your project here. Do you make art of any kind - visual, written, performed? Are you starting a project or recruiting co-creators? We want to hear from you! Email us at contact@witchhatproductions.com.

That's it for June. See you next month!

[priafey]

ok u mentioned this in a tag game from a bit ago that u could see gwilin with almost anybody in the game, but im wondering if theres a perfect npc for him in ur eyes!! or u could tell me about him/ur oc lol. im curious what like personality traits u think would complement his

Oh you bet your bottom dollar there is. Or, I guess, 'are'? I preface my response here stating that this is all specifically regarding Farmboy Gwilin (of the FGCU).

Aicantar – He is well-read in history and archeology, like his uncle, which Gwilin loves, since his reading tastes are similarly inclined. Aicantar scratches a scholarly itch for Gwilin–he never the had the opportunity to participate in an academic setting himself, and isn’t even sure the experience would’ve been all that gratifying for him, but you just know he’d relish the chance to be able to live out that unrealized dream vicariously through Aicantar. Plus, think of all the steamy nights spent in that museum in Markarth, where you’re not sure which you like best: the heat coming off of your lover’s skin, or the heat being released from the steam of the Dwarven machinery turning all around you.

Urzoga gra-Shugurz – God I love her so much. And Gwilin would, too! He’d get into a tumultuous relationship with her after they bump into each other on the road while she’s transporting prisoners. “Outta my way, beanpole,” she’d say, and it would be love at first sight for him. Gwilin would learn that Urzoga isn’t as scathing as she seems, once you get to know her (she has a soft spot for theatre, and, like Gwilin, is a skilled woodworker). She’d propose after like three months of them seeing each other. Gwilin would say yes, but later realize they rushed into things, and they’d part ways. Later on, they’d bump into each other on the road again, and start in on that familiar, ill-advised script: “Why did we ever split up?” “How come it didn’t work out between us?” etc etc.

Lurbuk – They’d meet while Gwilin was staying at Moorside. Lurbuk would confess to him, after a few drinks, the deep insecurities he feels regarding his abilities as a bard, and Gwilin would assure him he’s heard worse, which would disarm him immediately. They’d totally hit it off because, despite having little musical talent, he’d discover Lurbuk is incredibly well-versed in musical theory, and really does possess the heart and soul of a poet. A few kisses later, and Gwilin and him would find themselves in a long-distance relationship carried out by courier. Lurbuk is a pillow princess and Gwilin is a sub vers, so the sex they’d have whenever they’d get to see each other isn’t explosive or whatever, but neither of them consider sex to be a focal point of their relationship and there’s a lot of love and trust, so it’s always fun for them, regardless.

More generally, Gwilin would have a FIELD DAY with the ladies in Riften. I’ve mentioned this before, but he often travels there with Temba to make deliveries and chummies up to the barkeeps of all the places he visits so they give him pointers for good spots to go to draw or people they think would be willing to act as models for him. I could totally see him chatting with Keerava at The Bee and Barb one night, and when he asks her who might be willing to be his muse, she's like “Well, it's just for art's sake, right? You ever draw an Argonian?"

Gwilin would go into it very professionally, but Keerava would come on to him halfway through the sitting and he'd fold like a lawn chair. He’d have similar trysts with Constance Michel, Marise Aravel, and Nivenor (who he’d later feel very gross for having slept with, because she’s an asshole). This happens for two main reasons: 1.) Gwilin’s got paramour energy out the wazoo and 2.) Riften is a city of corruption, greed, and paranoia where most folks spend their days either fretting over who might plunge a dagger into their back, or plotting who they’ll be plunging that very dagger into next. Gwilin is a sensitive artist who cares little for money or status and trusts easily. You can put two and two together here.

The two people from Riften he’d have more of an intimate relationship with are Threki and Valindor. He’d throw himself into Threki’s arms completely, falling head over heels for her and her commitment to speaking out against Ulfric even from within prison. He’d plan her escape with the help of Valindor, and end up falling in love with him as well, in the process–for many reasons, not the least of which is Valindor got to grow up in Valenwood, as Gwilin never did, and so being with him helps him feel connected to his culture. They would make a lovely throuple <3

Now in regards to Temba, Gwilin has a HUGE crush on her, which he would never ever try to materialize because he’s afraid of what would happen if they got together and then broke up. He doesn’t think Temba would be the kind to want to stay friends, so he’d probably lose his job and have to leave Ivarstead. He’d hate for that to happen. After all, Wilhelm and Lynly are his very best friends on Nirn :D

Final point insofar as NPCs: the College of Winterhold has an intricate polycule Gwilin has been trying to integrate himself into for years, but he never makes it past the initial screening process. Too intense for him. Doesn’t mean he’ll stop trying, though. hehe

In short, the personality traits which most meld with Gwilin are those that are reflections of, but at the same time extensions of himself. Humor is central to any relationship he maintains, romantic or otherwise, and he infuses it into the loudest, most exciting moments as easily as he does into the quietest, most intimate ones. He loathes affluence. He fits in best with people of an equally strong or stronger personality than his own. Any benign impulse he has, he absolutely must follow through on, though it's easy to talk him out of something that could get him hurt if you know him well enough. Finally, sexually speaking, he loves having his efforts to take the lead be frustrated (he enjoys being indulged in this regard).

Below you'll find some graphics I made to illustrate some of the personality traits/interests involved in the first three relationships I described, just to give an idea of how they'd bounce off of/complement each other.

can you tell i'm autistic

A heem heem anywayyyyyyy. This post is already kilometric so I won’t even get into my OCs. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK, THOUGH!! It pushed me to organize all this info I had floating around :D

[the-suffering-of-a-circus]

the beginning of a rise of a leader (chapter 1, backstory of Dokeshi Kowai)

hello! This is my first time using tumblr so it may be horrible…I hope I can somehow make a fandom out of this? Anyways enough of me yapping…here’s chapter 1!

*a young boy, looking the age of 15…stood there, legs shakey. Breathing heavily. Out of breath and tired. Standing over a pile of wood, just finished with chopping wood to sell. Mumbling “I don’t want to do this anymore���it hurts.” His appearance? Black and white long hair, rare White eyes, tall, and seemingly shaken at the moment. This was Dokeshi Kowai. A 15 year old boy. He’s spent hours…and hours…working his ass off just to sell wood to supply his family…sense his parents were too lazy to do it themself. You see, Dokeshi hasn’t grown into the richest of families…and all the money they earned? Never gone to him. He was forgotten in his family, used for money then discarded. As the questions start spreading across his mind. “Why don’t they love me.” “Am I not good enough!?” “Why doesn’t anyone see me!?” His rage only slowly grew…if there was one person he disliked? It’d be Noroi Kowai…his own sister, why you may ask? Simple. He was ignored…and she was cherished. “Why is she so special…why do I deserve this while she gets all the love anyone could possibly want.” He murmured, picking up the axe once more, and chopping more wood. Hours later, he finished selling all the wood to his neighbors and locals on the streets…all for only the poor amount of 125 dollars…all the labor…all the sweat and tears..and even the money he makes?…his parents take away…all for his younger sister, she was 12…old enough to at least help him..but no…he was neglected…starved if he didn’t work…and forced, he was only fifteen, he just wanted a normal life. But no.

A few days later. He was enjoying his sort time in his house, on a break, when suddenly he notices his father’s gun on the table. “Maybe…no…no I shouldn’t…whatever….ill just take it for only an hour..just to practice aim” he sighed, grabbing his fathers gun. Bang. The sound that rings his ears as he shoots a glass bottle out in the fields…this was to the least, the best break he’s had in a while…he was having fun and learning how to protect himself. That was until…he heard an oddly familiar voice “Big brother! What are you doing?! Put it down! Mother needs you to get back to work”…that’s it, the voice of his little sister. “Not now. I’ll continue on later. I’m practicing.” *he sighed, irritated ever so slightly* “no! Put it down or I’ll make you!” *she argued back* “can you just leave me alone.?! You’re always so annoying…I said. Give,me,a,few,minutes.” *he was getting angrier and angrier. This spoiled brat, nagging him, what kinda girl was she!? He just wanted one break…but no…the one person he envies just has to ruin it. “Your so angry all the time! Now I see why mother and father avoid and dislike you! They don’t want to deal with you!” *she yelled back…and those words, stabbed him through the heart.* “SAY THAT AGAIN, BRAT.” *he yelled, almost loosing it.* “YOU HEARD ME. MOTHER AND FATHER DONT LOVE YOU. AND I SEE WHY.” *…bang. The. Silence.*

Authors note:

GOD THIS SUCKS SO FUCKING MUCH. I hope you enjoy…I’ll try to post the 2nd part of dokeshi’s backstory/chapter 2 in a few days…thank you for reading and supporting me! -Natsu

[cwcthzl]

okay for some reason, talking about my date feels less vulnerable on here than on discord. probably the anonymity even though i know im not really anonymous. so. random little things from my date with farmer enby:

- they told me that they tried on like half of their clothes before landing on the outfit they wore. which is just- 1. i didn’t know that was a thing people who dress masc even do. 2. makes me think they wanted to look nice to see me so i’m gonna scream into my pillow

- this was my first time seeing them wear makeup and they looked really cute with it!! also i feel like they’re better at makeup than me which seems unfair

- i was worried that because we were going to a cafe, the date was gonna be pretty short but i didn’t get home until 4 hours after we met up (and they drove me home)

- they are a really good driver and they even offered to help me practice driving. when i told them im working toward my license, they started telling me everything they were doing when driving so i could learn

- their special interest is hippos and we went into this like hobby store and when there were animal things, they told me to look for hippos. and we’re about to leave and we see all these animal figures and there’s a hippo. so i tell them if the hippo is less than ten dollars, ill buy it for them. and they tell me that if i buy them the hippo, they’ll kiss me. and rasc, i would have spent my whole bank account on that hippo when they said that

- they talked a lot about their little cousin, who they live with, and it was so cute seeing how much they love him and care for him. which already knew but still. they’re probably going to go as a pokemon trainer for halloween because he’s making them

- i mentioned i never do anything for halloween anymore and they brought up the idea of me coming to take their cousin trick or treating. i hope that happens.

- i am so gay. like. so so gay. they are so cute im gonna cry

- we talked about when we realized we were queer and first crushes and all that and they kept making me laugh and i just

- and then when they drove me home and dropped me off, i did get that kiss. it was a short peck but it was my first kiss in a year so im just. ahh!!

anyway, i really hope they actually like me romantically because i like them so much. but even if they don’t want to continue romantically, i really like being their friend so. yeah

- deb

you are such a pussy i actually feel bad for you

- ?????THAT IS LITERALLY FUCKHNG FLIRTING HELLO I SAY THAT SHIT TO EVERY ONE OF MY TALKING STAGES WHEN I WANT TGEM TO KNOW I WANNA LOOK GOOD FOR THEM

- im not surprised i am pretty sure even i (ME) am better at makeup than you

- god coffee dates.... such dykes

- DAMN

- one of the lamest gay flirting tactics ive ever seen oh my god get yourselves fucking dignity

- AHADJAGXJ

- dont get your hopes up chat but it will be SO cute uf it really happens

- ew

- i'm pretty you have a lame ass sense of humor so. i feel bad for them. god knows what made your dwarf ass laugh

- LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOO

dude if you really end up being just friends you will probably kill yourself bc of all that one sided/flirty friends/general fuckass situation from liking your friend so we PRAY that doesn't happen

[qualityempathshoebear]

2023 reflection (thank god its over)

A year finishes and another comes right around the corner, eh? No but seriously, 2023 was not a good year overall. I mean, sure, there were some wins here and there which im happy about but the circustances i found myself under throughout this year was just not it. I will say this tho: i am really proud of myself for surviving this hell of a year when i at many points in time didnt think i would. Its been a year where ive spent my times worrying, stressing, and feeling lonely in the hell place 2.0, but also a year of improvement where ive gone to college and met so many new lovely people. Its been a year of letting people who arent good for me go (and sure, i can get better at this) as well as reflecting and learning from past mistakes. Some wins from this year include: surviving hell place 2.0, getting into the college and courses I wanted, passing CAP 1s (plus, getting pretty decent grades as a starting point), and most recently; getting selected for a program and a free trip to Poland.

2024 is going to be one of the most important years of my life. This is the year that decides what uni I go to, and you better bet your last dollar ill be going to a damn good one! Im going to work my ass of like no tomorrow to make sure i get what i want. I havent done all ive done, and lost all ive lost, for nothing. Ill make every last sacrifice count. 2024 is the year I stop worrying about boys or drama. It doesnt serve me, and sure as hell wont give me the results I need for uni. Work hard now, play harder later. Im only here for less than two years before leaving, so the grades I leave with is what counts. Effort, self-improvement and Hope are the words which will describe 2024.

Happy new years! I look forward to updating you <3

Pssttt! I totally forgot to say this, but you remember those 2023 goals? yeah no, they didnt happen. Except for maybe the books (i read 35!) and the nails (at some point).

My 2024 goals are:

-Read at least 35 books, gain weight, clear my skin, study every chance I get (at least 3 hours a day), get a minimum of 1520 on my SAT, get predicted (minimum) A*A*A, workout once a week, and drink 2L of water a day.

[hellokvttyy]

leo valdez relationship headcanons

gn reader :)

no warnings, total fluff

•••

- he def uses his body as a heater for you when you get cold

- his love language is touch, so you’re literally attached at the hip. i mean seriously, he can’t go ten minutes without having physical contact with you

- so. mf. clingy.

- he always sings you spanish songs to help you sleep

- on the flip side of that, if you spent time with him while hes working, you’d go deaf from how loud he sings along to selena

- his guilty pleasure is being the little spoon

- he just needs to be snuggled :((

- takes you on late night nature walks

- (maybe it’s just so he can kiss you under the moonlight but we won’t say that)

- makes you cute little contraptions in his free time

- since you can’t sit together at dinner, he takes it upon himself to just admire you. every cute little expression you make, every time you laugh, every time you smile, he loves it all.

- when you first got together, a lot of your clothes got burnt because leo would get really nervous around you and therefore he would burst into flame. he felt really bad, but you thought it was hilarious.

- his pickup lines>>>

- “feel my shirt! know what it’s made of? boyfriend material😏😏😏”

- oh god and the dad jokes

- it’s so bad bruh it’s like a chronic illness he always says them for no reason

- has tried to sneak you out of camp to go on a date

- chiron caught you, obviously, and you and him were losing it at leo’s face

- mans really thought he was gonna get away with it

- he’d love playing animal crossing w/ you idc

- “ok yeah but why does this weird little raccoon guy need 198,000 dollars of my money😐”

- he would teach you morde code so he could tap out cute little messages to you

- sometimes he gets so caught up in making things that he needs you to be there to remind him to take breaks

- he’s def a good cook so he cooks/bakes for you all the time

- loves to get his hair played with (no joke it is his favorite thing ever he melts whenever you do it)

- he gets too embarrassed to ask tho so he just lays in your lap and hopes you’ll get the message

- we all know he’s a genius but i feel like he radiates himbo energy

- like he laughs at fart jokes

- jokes aside he’s a really really good bf and anyone would be grateful to have him 👍🏼

[chaewandz]

ROSE — chapter 01: applications.

synopsis: after she turns 18, y/n’s parents arrange a competition for young suitors in her town to compete for her love, a family tradition that brought about her parents’ marriage. twelve men are selected, but who will win her heart?

📍an apartment in the center of adora

“soobin come look at this!” yeonjun shouted from the living room to his roommate who was busy in the kitchen.

“what’s up?” soobin asked, drying his hands with a towel as he leaned over the back of the couch to get a good look at yeonjun’s phone.

“princess y/n is holding a competition- like the bachelorette but add millions and billions of dollars and royalty …” yeonjun said.

“wow… should we apply?”

“choi soobin are you saying you aren’t satisfied with me as your very handsome very entertaining roommate?????” yeonjun immediately put his phone down and turned around to face soobin, arms crossed.

“YOU BROUGHT IT UP?????” soobin retaliated, laughing. “I admire your confidence considering I just spent the last ten minutes cleaning up our dinner while you just sat here…”

“come on this could be your future!!”

“well. i don’t think it’s a terrible idea…” soobin whispered, sitting down next to yeonjun on the couch.

“neither do I…” yeonjun replied, glancing at soobin with a smirk.

the pair began scrambling for their laptops, competing to see who’d submit their application first.

📍SMILE! rentable photozone of adora

“you really think y/n would like YOU?” sunoo asked, rolling his eyes.

“why wouldn’t she? who could resist park sunghoon, the world renowned ice prince?”

“I’m resisting!!! I’m resisting with ease!!” sunoo replied. “plus you aren’t even world renowned …”

“sunoo if u don’t fucking sit still… REMEMBER I AM DOING THIS FOR FREE???” another voice complained.

“fine. I said ill buy you food later for your hard work niki!”

“he’s lying.” sunghoon said, playing with sunoo’s new makeup collection he was currently taking promotional pictures for.

“PUT THE BLUSH DOWN.” sunoo yelled, throwing his used makeup wipe at sunghoon.

“EW???” sunghoon yelped, peeling the makeup wipe off of his face.

“oh my god you two…I’m about to quit seriously. i would rather apply for that stupid love competition you’re talking about than ever try to take your photos again.” niki said, stepping away from the camera.

“well then why don’t you.” sunoo said, arms folded across his chest with the most evil glare plastered on his face.

“FINE!” niki yelled, grabbing his camera and storming out.

“you think he’s serious?” sunghoon asked.

“absolutely not.” sunoo laughed, already propping up his phone to take his own photos.

📍furry friendz

“jay did you see the news???” jungwon asked excitedly.

“DO YOU NOT SEE ME PACING THE FLOORS?”

“my bad…” jungwon turned away from jay, going back to organizing the shelves of cat food with a frown.

“no I’m sorry, I’m just stressed!! this is my chance with her jungwon!! do you think she’ll like me???” jay leaned over the counter, a genuine sense of worry in his eyes.

jungwon sighed, putting down the cat food and turning to face jay again.

“there is a box of dog toys that need to go on shelves jay. worry about those first, then you can submit your application after work. I’ll help you alright?”

jungwon was a good friend, but he was tired of hearing about jay’s undying love for y/n. and he would never admit to jay’s face that he too had a crush on princess y/n, despite never meeting.

“thank you won.” jay smiled and got to work.

jungwon smiled back, knowing he’d already submitted his own application.

📍adora’s community park

“right, ‘ow’s this one lads?” beomgyu asked, trying his fourth variation of a British accent.

“sounds exactly like the other three gyu.” hueningkai rolled his eyes, arranging the flowers he picked from the grass, not even bothering to make eye contact.

“I agree. beomgyu she isn’t even british… no one in her family is…” taehyun was genuinely puzzled, but not surprised.

“I KNOW! i just want to sound posh. what if her family doesn’t like me…” beomgyu laid down on their picnic blanket, burying his head in his hands.

in response, taehyun threw a strawberry at him.

“OW?!?”

“get up beomgyu this is embarrassing.” taehyun already had another strawberry in his hand, preparing to throw it at beomgyu’s head.

“seriously. you haven’t even submitted your application and you’re already worried about what her family will think… me? I’m relaxed. you think y/n would like this bouquet?” hueningkai held up his recent creation that he’d spent the entire picnic working on.

“kai you’ll be next.” taehyun now aimed the strawberry towards huening. “let’s all just enjoy our picnic and worry about this later yeah?”

the other two nodded and the trio returned to their comfortable silence.

📍lee-sim café

“do you think writing ‘professional barista and entrepreneur’ is too much??” jake asked, sipping his own coffee, as he stared at his laptop.

“not at all. do you think I should submit one too?” heeseung asked, leaned against the counter.

“definitely! it’ll be fun heeseung!” jake said grinning.

“what if we both get in??? won’t we be going against each other? that’s like, number one rule we agreed not to break in the lee-sim coffee code of friendship!” heeseung frowned.

“technically, we would be… but we’ll cheer each other on!! promise to put lee-sim before the competition? if the moment arises?” jake put down his coffee and stuck out his pinky.

“definitely. LEE-SIM FOREVER!” the two joined pinkies and high fived.

“that was kinda cringey.” heeseung whispered.

“yeah.”

the pair awkwardly sat there for a few seconds, scratching their heads.

“just don’t copy my application!! and don’t have a better headshot than me!!” jake suddenly broke the silence practically begging as he aggressively pointed his finger at heeseung.

“now that I cannot promise … sorry jakey…” heeseung laughed as he grabbed his laptop to find the application.

“whatever. I’m a better barista than you anyways.”

“ok now I’m definitely copying.”

“HEY! I’m just kidding hee!!”

“we’ll see…”

the two laughed, and proceeded to complete their applications, asking each other for assistance nearly the entire time.

← previous masterlist next →

author’s note: FIRST CHAPTER IS FINALLY HERE AAAAA im sorry for taking so long to upload☹️ I recently moved across the country saur ive been very busy😭 thank u for waiting! chapters will definitely be shorter than this going forward!! i just needed to get all of the introductions out of the way <3 hope u enjoy!!

taglist: (open!!) @cwsana @emoworu @strwberrydinosaur @justbored48 @flwrsforriki

synopsis: after she turns 18, y/n’s parents arrange a competition for young suitors in her town to compete for her love, a family tradition that brought about her parents’ marriage. twelve men are selected, but who will win her heart?

[sgt-morgan]

Moonlight 🌗

Summary: sadness permeates his life, but loosing you was too much. How are he and his daughter to cope.

Warnings: Grief,bodily fluids, hospitals, Cancer, AFAB and female identifying reader, mentions of broken glass, death of a character. This one is sad, read at your own risk.

A/N: I’m writing this for me, I needed to process my own grief, so I’m doing it this way. Sorry it’s not the normal fluff I usually post, but sometimes life and sorrow demand to be felt.

Moonknight Masterlist

Grief never fades. The poets will tell you this, the artists, bards. Whatever you want to believe about it, grief leaves a mark. It stains. It leeches itself into the corners of your life. Grief creeps, it crawls up over your mind and burrows itself in your bones. Grief lurks, hiding itself in the big places. Holidays, anniversaries, birthdays. Those things. But oh yes, it also hides in those small places too. It hides away in mundane places. Hides where it makes itself most known. That’s what hits Marc the hardest.

The Illness strikes fast. It digs in its roots, and blooms in your skull. Marc has to laugh, this would be his luck, because just like with his own brain, disease clings and doesn’t let go. It starts with a seizure, you’re with friends, and he suddenly receives a call. It’s the hospital, then it’s floods of texts, then it’s his daughter calling. His stomach sinks like a stone, they never call when he’s on missions. He’s never run faster than when his daughter cried and told him you were in trouble. Then it begins. He’s in a hospital with you ‘ just for a night’, then two, then months, then a year. Then it’s scans, and chemo, and surgeries, and blood, and tears, and vomit, and radiation, and bedside mannerisms. He remembers the nights he spent in misery clutching cold and frail flesh and willing it back to life, he remembers wishing to never set foot in a hospital again. Then his wish is granted, and funnily enough? He starts thinking, God, what he wouldn’t give to spend even just five more minutes in a hospital, so long as you’re still in it.

He also thinks about the life at home with what illness ferments. He remembers the sea of well-wishers, remembers the casserole parade, the mourners and the do gooders. Remembers how their offers slowly faded when you settled into your lives ‘with cancer,’ how they all left once you seemed settled. Remembered their return when you were gone, remembers them leaving again. Human kindness comes and goes like the tides, all you can do is surf and nod. Making them feel like they’re helping you is the only way to rid yourself of the burden of their guilt.

He remembers the tears when you had to explain to your daughter. God, the sadness, the bargaining with Gods he can and can’t see, the anger, so much anger. He and his daughter were ticking time bombs for months until they saw what it did to you. A volatile mix of grief and confusion that turned them into whirlwinds of curses and broken glass. You thought he’d at least spent over a thousand dollars on new glassware in that first month, you were probably right. He thinks how funny it is that while she looked just like you, your daughter was just as volatile as him, just as hurt. It made him sad to think there was nothing he could do to change that, to take her pain. He remembers thinking, god, if only I could take their hurt, carry their burdens. Its a shame that it doesn’t work that way, but even if it did, Marc knows you’d attempt to take it all on yourself, so he supposed it’s for the best.

He remembers when you first came home after chemo, and pulled out your first chunk of hair. You were scratching your head, Steven was reading to you and your daughter, then he hears a gasp. Then there you were, numbly holding a fist full of hair, watching as the sadness and shock sunk into his and his daughters bones. He remembers you balling it up, walking to the trash can, throwing it away, and sitting back down. Remembers the moment he was thrust to the front to catch you as you fell into a puddle and sobbed in his arms, clutching him and your daughter, as if they were the ones disappearing and not you. Steven didn’t front too often after that.

He remembers coming home to you and your daughter laughing in the bathroom and smiling, going to see what all the laughter was about and finding his two most precious girls perfectly bald. He remembers relinquishing control to Jake. Remembers him nodding with an overdrawn frown and shaving a stripe right down the center of their head, causing you both to squeal in delight. He remembers how mad Jake got when you and your daughter started joking about the tumor, about your ‘skin tag.’ Remembers when you started calling your daughter ‘Pinky’ and how she referred to you as ‘The Brain.’ Remembers the coffee cup he smashed when he tried to convince you both there was nothing funny about this tumor, and nothing funny about you leaving them alone again. He wasn’t around much after that, you said you missed his tamales. You never ate them again.

He remembers the mission he went on where he thought you died without him. Remembers the horror he felt when he stopped dead in his tracks and took your sister’s phone call. The relief he felt when she just said you were finally resting. Remembers Konshu yelling at him for stopping for such trivial matters. He remembers how he smashed every artifact the old bird asked him for. Remembers telling him if he couldn’t fix her, he was useless anyway. There was no use saving the world when his was collapsing all around him. He remembers responding to Konshu’s guilt trap of his gift of life. Remembers telling him to take it back and give it to you. Remembers when the god said no. He gave up Moonknight that night for the final time. The God never bothered him again.

Now there’s this. Theres the laying awake, and the memories. There’s this staring at the ceiling and thinking about how big the bed feels, how empty. There’s the utter desolate sadness that fills him when he realizes how quiet the room is when your breath isn’t filling it. There’s the abject horror of realizing your pillow doesn’t smell like you anymore, and the clawing anger he feels when he realizes that it never will again. He longs for you, even the stuff he never thought he would miss. He misses your warmth, sure, but he also misses your terrible morning breath, your bed head, your snores, the crust of sleep in your eyes. He longs the most to feel you climb over him to get into bed like you always used to, gently so as not to wake him, though it always did. He longs for you to wrap him in your embrace and to fall asleep. Marc cries himself to sleep.

The. It happens. A dip in the mattress, the smell of your shampoo, a sudden warmth in his sheets. He’s startled awake, is it a miracle? He turns eagerly to try to glimpse you crawling back to him, longs to be wrapped in your embrace. It’s not you though. He deflates. There is however, your daughter. She’s clutching one of your t-shirts. She has your nose, hair, eyes. She is your mark. She is your perfect little clone. Then he sees the way she’s sobbing, and his heart shatters in ways he thought it couldn’t after all the heartbreak he’s already experienced.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” He coos, wrapping her up like he used to hold her as a baby. He is longing right now more than ever for you to play with her hair like you used to when your little family would lay like this. But you don’t, you never will again, and it kills him.

“Daddy.” She cries, pressing your shirt to her nose, “it dosent smell like her anymore!” She sobs, gasping and stuttering. Oh how it kills him to see her cry. “It won’t ever smell like her again! What am I gonna do without her!? She’s not her she’s-“ then they’re both crying. How he wishes he could give you back to her. How he longs to march into the field of reeds and bring you back. How he wishes he could give his daughter that gift. They’re both Heaving and spluttering and then slowly just when they think they will cry forever, the tears fade. Now they’re lying on their backs, holding hands, staring at the glow stars you put on the ceiling. That’s when the miracle happens.

“Do you know why those stars are there?” He asks.

Then they’re reminiscing. They tell stories, they laugh, they cry, they smile. They remember you, and in that remembrance they conjure you into being. Steven and Jake chime in and his daughter smiles for the first time in ages. She had missed all of her fathers, he’s glad they decided to speak to their daughter. She needed them all, now she’s got them. With your memory, Marc can once again hear your peeling laughter, smell your hair, taste your lips, feel the way you used to hold him. Then the grief turns into joy, nothing to mourn when your presence seeps into the room, your memory fills their home. Grief is profound, but love? Oh love beats it by a mile, and their love for you is endless. They talk, and talk, and talk. Then all at once, Marc swears he can feel you with him. That’s when he realizes, the stain of grief is lifting, and all that’s left is the picture of love you left for him. The picture that molds its shape into your daughter. That’s when he decides that maybe grief doesn’t stain, it polishes, and when it’s done your love shines anew, and with your little girl, it glimmers like moonlight.

[trappedwriter]

Trapped - Chapter 2

Jessica’s POV

And that’s what I did, I followed all the big named influencers, figured out my niche and got to work. And just over a year I ended up reaching 200 followers. Small businesses reached out and wanted to work with me. Don’t get me wrong it’s awesome but I wanted more. Fed up with the lack of engagement, I knew I had to do something big, but what?!

I was just scrolling through my youtube feed when I saw the video that would change my life. It had over a million views "My amputee story." I clicked immediately a chubby girl way uglier than me was sitting on her bed just talking, the background was just her bedroom and she hadn't even put on makeup.

I started reading through the comments. Everyone was being so nice to her calling her brave, and strong, and beautiful. She was droning on as I read and I heard all she did was get in a car accident, any moron could do that. I scrolled up to mute her, my finger froze as her image came back into view. She had her legs hanging off the bed now, well one leg and one stump. Her right leg ended below the knee. Staring at it a light bulb went off in my head and I knew immediately what my big break would be. As fucked up as it sounds, people who have something wrong with them seem to get the most attention. But there was nothing wrong with me. Unless I made something bad happen.

I knew from that moment, I had to do it. I didn’t care about what it took as long as I got a similar outcome. The next couple of days were spent planning. I had to come up with my own story. A believable one. And as I planned, my “illness” got more extreme. I couldn’t simply just have an accident and lose a limb, no that would be too boring, too basic.

As I’m sitting at the kitchen table, papers and notes sprawled out. I finalised the perfect plan. “This is genius” I thought “I know I can do this, it’s gonna be so worth it”.

—————————————————————————

Gathering all of the necessary equipment was easier than I thought. Thank god for Amazon. I did have to go to the hardware store for the star of the show and some painting supplies as props. As I was checking out, the cashier was mindlessly scanning the items not making any effort at small talk how rude. To fill the silence, I told her all about how I’m going renovate my room by the time she was done. I was a bit sad I wouldn't have time to decorate for months.

The last thing on my list to get was some liquid luck which turned out to be quite difficult. Being underage sucks but I knew someone who could help me out. Brad. He went to my school, we had biology and English together, plus he has a fake ID because of his dead beat drunk dad. He’s actually quite cute but he would never date me, especially not after the disaster that was my first kiss. We were playing truth or dare at a party when I was about 15, Brad was a year older and was seen making out with many girls in the high school hallways. So, when I was dared to kiss him, I was a nervous wreck. I thought it would be a quick peck on the lips. I didn’t expect him to completely go for it. I didn’t know what to do and it showed. Of course, it had to call me out on it, and everyone laughed. I was so humiliated. The one time I get out of my comfort zone and go to a party, it ended up being the worst day ever.

Other than forced interactions in class, I haven’t really spoken to Brad since. So, when I approached him and his friends at the skate park, my heart was racing. I shyly said hi and re-introduced myself just in case he forgot who I was. I stuttered out my question and eagerly waited for his response. To my surprise he said yes. He was curious why I asked him and joked l that I must still have a crush on him since my first kiss. It was like history repeating itself, all his friends laughed and with a shaking hand, I shoved the 20 dollars into his chest, told him what I wanted, where to meet me and to keep the change. I walked away red faced, embarrassed, and really pissed off. Why are guys such jerks.

Chapter 3

[pyroclastic727]

Owl House said fuck capitalism

So this episode was interesting. Lilith pretty much killed her sister. Why the fuck would she do that?

Even more interesting: why is Belos like that? How did Hooty put his head through one of those guards? Who the fuck is the Titan, and why does everyone like him? And how are these all tied together?

This episode was a metaphor for capitalism

...and another delicious step towards radicalizing the youth into dismantling this fucked-up neo-feudal system.

We’ll start with Belos. 

Emperor Belos is a weird name, don’t you think? We all thought it was spelled “Bellows,” but it wasn’t. In fact, it’s five letters, starts with Be, ends with os, and describes a megalomaniac emperor that restricts people’s freedom in order to accumulate wealth for himself.

Sound familiar?

Emperor Bezos Belos created capitalism. He saw the beauty of magic and decided to make himself the most powerful.

Belos created a system that destroys the masses and boosts his power.

 I’m dipping into fan theory a little, because the fan theory fits. We know that people get branded with coven magic that makes it so they can only specialize in one area. We know that Belos is the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles. We know that the excess magic, magic created by restrictions, has to go somewhere.

It’s the same system that many viewers see all the time. A job takes up all your day and tires you for the night, so you can only do one skill for the rest of your life. Jeff Bezos is the most powerful man in the United States. Excess money, money taken by restrictions, has to go somewhere.

The magic goes to Belos, like how the money goes to Bezos. Belos created capitalism, and he won it.

The guards aren’t real. 

Look, we’ve never seen their faces. They’re all the same. Why would you work so hard to get to the top, just to become a nameless, faceless killing machine?

Oh, also Hooty stuck his face through one. There is nothing under the armor.

Why? Well, it’s the same reason you see all those celebrities going around flaunting their wealth and bragging about how hard they worked. Like all those songs about how they grind every day and work harder than everyone else while you’re out clubbing, and that makes them dope. And then you take a closer look at them and see that they had a small loan of a million dollars fueling them, or an entire talent agency behind them, or their dad was a famous country star in the 80′s. 

They’re fake. They’re hollow. They’re a ploy created by the capitalist emperor to try to delude you into working harder. 

Let me put this into perspective. I guarantee that every single one of you has heard stuff like this: “Hard work makes you successful.” “I put in the work, and that’s why I’m successful.” “If you work hard enough, then you can be as successful as Mark Zuckerberg.” 

And unless you’re a robot or really lucky, I’m sure all of you have failed at this. Maybe they told you that hard work would make you good at math, so you spent 22 hours a week working on calculus, only to pass it by 3 percentage points and have it destroy your perfect 4.0 GPA. Maybe they told you that if you talked to people enough, then you would make friends, so you spent a lot of time talking to people, only to end up lonely and friendless. Maybe they told you that if you did well in school, you would get a good job, so you spent all your time working hard to be a good student, and then ended up in a soulless, dead-end job.

The guards are there to delude you. Look, who really gains from you being productive? The answer is the ruling class, the CEOs, the government, the bourgeoisie. It has always been that. All you get from working is a paycheck that lets you survive. They get a paycheck that lets them get rich. Just like Belos gets the magic and productivity of the specialized coven witches.

The guards are there to trick you. The truth is that nobody can join the Emperor’s Coven. It’s just there to make you think that hard work will make you successful. Then you spend your entire life working hard, trying to prove to the person in charge that you’re worthwhile. You give your whole life to the Coven, and they give you nothing. 

Magic is supposed to be something you pursue for fun. Being skilled at things, being good at something beautiful...that’s supposed to be something you do because you want to. But they took that and made it into a source of productivity. It doesn’t matter if you make good content. All people fucking care about is if you upload the day of premiere, if you make a lot of content quickly, if you maintain a million different conversations with strangers who expect you to be the most interesting person in the room. They don’t care how it hurts you. They don’t care how you crack from the stress. How you cry when you think no one can see you, and then you check your phone and someone can see you, someone did see you, and you have to put on your face and be the charming, magnetic person they want you to be. (oh by the way that’s why I wasn’t online much last week)

And it ruins it. Suddenly you can’t watch The Owl House without being stressed. You can’t make any content. You can’t make spells as powerfully as you want to. Your passion is replaced by perfectionism and insecurity, a voice telling you to keep being the best at what you do, or else they’ll forget you and let you die.

There’s also the Titan. 

So nobody has mentioned him before, because in addition to the Boiling Isles being a hellscape full of witchcraft and queerness, it’s also full of atheists. 

But suddenly we have people saying all this shit about him? Shit like, he gave witches the gift of magic, and then they learned to use it in a civilized manner, since being uncivilized was disrespectful?

I mean, first off, that’s fucking wrong. The island gives people magic. The island, which just so happened to be shaped like a titan-sized human. But the island/titan gives everyone all types of magic. Hell, even Luz gets to use magic, and she’s human. 

It sounds really fucking familiar. (tw for discussion of homophobia and colonialism and misogyny). It sounds like when the news is on and they show some Tr*mp supporter talking about how fetuses have more rights than people and it is their holy duty to take away a woman’s control over her body and force her through unbearable pain and into an 18-year commitment she didn’t want to make. It sounds like all the times people tried to say homosexuality should be illegal, citing a single line in a book written two thousand years ago and heavily edited by a European king. It sounds like all the times people said God wanted them to conquer, to own the entire earth, to force the other races into pain to support them.

This is that bullshit thing people do where they commit awful sins and justify it by citing the will of God. 

Or, it’s the Coven using religion as an excuse for evil.

Look, the Emperor’s Coven is clearly colonizer-coded. Saying that people’s original form of magic was wild (and showing a picture with the same joyous, rowdy energy of an 18th or 19th -century Black or indigenous party), and that it was God’s will for them to be “civilized?” Sounds like that thing that powerful white people did where they went and murdered people and forced them into their twisted capitalist system. God, gold, and glory, is what they said, because history books just love to omit the gore.

Lilith is passing the abuse cycle along. 

You know, like a good little colonizer. God I fucking hate her. She’s a MILF, in the sense that she’s a Mother I’d Like to Fling off a cliff. 

Ah, enough screaming about how much I want to drown Lilith in a tub of Hooty’s mucus. Let’s go into why I want to do that, and how she took the evils of capitalism and just...adopted those.

So, Lilith is sick and twisted for what she did to her sister. But, uhh, that’s the point. You see, there are so many other people out there like Lilith who would do the exact same thing, if given the chance. These are the people who do mean things when the teacher isn’t looking, and then act nice and try to frame you. These are the people who will hate you if you’re better than them. These are people who would do anything to bring you down, if you dare outperform them.

It’s greed, my friends. The mental illness that capitalism blesses us all with.

Lilith herself said it: she dedicated her entire life to the Coven. What she wanted was to be the best. And she almost was...except for her own sister. Someone who lived with her, annoyed her at home, bested her at school. Someone she could never beat, no matter how hard she worked. And her sister was younger than her, too! How insulting was that? Lilith wanted to be the best, and someone in her exact situation did better than her.

Lilith was insecure. And it consumed her.

But why? Why does insecurity consume her? I mean, no one can be motivated by insecurity forever. Well, not unless someone conditions it into you.

The lovely thing about the capitalist system is the morals it teaches you. Things like: “You’re only useful if you’re the best.” “Being school smart makes you smart, while being social smart or sports smart or creative smart or fandom smart is worthless.” “Your worth can be quantified by numbers and is based off arbitrary measures like your income or your grades.” Things that can and will drive us crazy if we let ourselves believe them.

And it did drive Lilith crazy. She got so twisted by a society that said being good at magic is her only worth. Look, Lilith used to be good at things, probably. She was good at sports. At times, she slips up and does an okay job of being Eda’s sister. She has a powerful presence when she’s in a room. And she’s wicked good at manipulating people. 

But that didn’t matter. Lilith bought into the lies. She let herself believe that magical skill was the only way to measure her worth. And since she needed to be the best, she hurt Eda for it.

The beautiful thing is, Eda didn’t buy that. "It’s my power, kid. And before you showed up, I spent my whole life wasting it.” Is what Eda said, as she used up the last of her power, the last of her life, to save Luz. In her final moments, she proved that she’s not like them. She’s stronger than them.

None of this matters. Not magical prowess. Not the hierarchy. Not the promise of joining the Coven and having more power than anyone else.

The only thing that matters to Eda is her family. Her real family. Her Luz, King, and Hooty. And by extension, Willow, Gus, and Amity. Those are Eda’s real reason for fighting, for dying: to protect them. Look, there’s no way she would’ve come out of that fight alive. She has a family, and her love for them is stronger than greed or jealousy or capitalism. 

Lilith never understood that. She thought the water of the womb was thicker than the blood of the covenant. Or, that the water of the womb and the blood of the covenant are stronger than the bonds of found family. She thought it didn’t matter if Eda loved, her, only if the Emperor loved her. Fucking bitch.

And now, a little something to worry about, before we go. Amity Blight. The girl who wanted to join the Emperor’s Coven more than anything, who dedicated her whole life to doing well in school, to being the best, to being perfect.

And then she met Luz. She fell for Luz. Now she’s in a tricky place, where habit and conditioning want her to join the Emperor’s Coven, but her heart wants her to do the impossible and destroy capitalism.

She wasn’t in this episode. Funny that being injured and unable to work ended up saving her from watching her future mother-in-law die. So she bought some time.

But Luz’s true mom is dead. This is the second mom she has lost, and she’s only fourteen. As powerful as King and Hooty are, Luz needs Amity. Luz needs Amity to support her and help her get back her mom.

So Amity has to make a choice. Fear and insecurity, or love and a high chance of death? 

She’ll probably choose death. Because that’s the message that this family-friendly show is giving us kids. Fuck capitalism. All you need in life is to do what makes you happy and be with the ones you love.

[underworldreaderinserts]

Hey, this is my first time doing a request and I don’t know if this is the right place to put it (I hope it is). But I was wondering if you do do multiple characters, if you could do (separate) headcannons for Zagreus, Thanatos, and Hypnos falling for someone completely mortal on the surface? Thank you so much and I’m really sorry if I didn’t input my request correctly!

Hello, love! No, you did absolutely fine, this is exactly where you’re supposed to submit your requests♡ Thank you so much for sending it in! I hope it’s to your liking♡ I’m so sorry it took so long to publish. The past few days have been hectic! But I’m back♡ Do these even count as headcanons? I’m so sorry-- I know you asked for them separate, but I thought of them all together, and I accidentally made a poly circle. Since this post is long enough already, I’ll leave them out, but please let me know if you’d want me to make a post with them! I had so much fun imagining and writing it that I couldn’t help myself♡  -- Ryan

Thanatos:

✧ Your modest, mortal life hadn’t been too grandiose; you worked as a humble physician, tending to your village in ways of medication and treatment, everything between minor procedures and check ups.

     ✧ In your line of work, death was no stranger. It wasn’t very frequent that patients died in your care, but when they did -- whether it was a life lost to infection, injury, or illness -- they were only in extreme cases. (Needless to say, Thanatos had made all those visits to your practice)

✧ In the beginning, he'd refrained from any involvement in your life -- only watching over the soul whose allotted time was running out before reaping them, then departing. 

✧ But one day, he’d watched you fighting to keep your patient alive. Tears streaming down your face as you did everything in your power to stabilize the boy. His parchment read, ‘name; Nicos, age; 10, cause of death; injury by stampede’. 

     ✧ He knew that he’d have no other choice but to take the boy’s soul -- living with those irreversible damages would be a worse outcome.

✧ After that, he began to notice things he never did before. 

     ✧ The care you put in to making your patients comfortable before they passed. How you went above and beyond caring for them, and giving preventative measures to prolong their life (though he’d still be there to take the soul regardless, he’d watched as you did your best to preserve their life). All of it showed how limitless your strength was.

✧ “He’s.. doing fine. The boy.” You heard a voice one day, an unfamiliar one. You turn around from the bookshelf you stand before, holding a journal and a vial of ointment. 

     ✧ “Excuse me?” You blink, asking the stranger softly, taking in his features. He wasn’t from the village, you were aware of that. The village rarely had travelers passing through, and given this man’s robes and garments, you weren’t quite sure he was an ordinary man.

          ✧ “Nicos. He’s doing well.” The man wields his scythe, gently shifting its weight from one hand to the other. Your eyes widen as it dawns on you. “Than..atos?” Correctly identifying him, he seems to give a small bow of his head.

               ✧ You do as any sane person would, in the presence of a god; you drop everything in your hands and take a step back. You had enough reason to believe him -- after all, you knew everyone in this village, and Nicos had passed months before his arrival. There was no way he’d have known.

               ✧ “Are you... Is it my time?” You ask, leaving Thanatos a bit puzzled. “Are you here to collect my soul?” You repeat, and the understanding visually clicks in Thanatos, and he chuckles, shaking his head. Of course, you’d believe he’d come for your soul, as he’d only ever appeared before humans who have met their time. “Then... What is it you’ve come for?”

               ✧ You’d asked the million dollar question. Why had he even appeared before you? What was it that drew him out like this? “I... Can’t tell you myself. I just came to tell you, he’s doing well.” And with a toll of a bell, he’d disappeared. No word of goodbye, no mention of ever coming back.

               ✧ Reflecting on what had just happened; The God of Death himself had come into your home, just to tell you that Nicos was alright. It warmed your heart to take comfort in that, knowing that he was no longer in pain.

               ✧ Sitting on the situation a little longer, and judging by that little bit of information, it finally dawned on you that he was there, personally, for that event, and that he’d thought of you enough to reassure you.

✧ Due to his work, Thanatos makes frequent trips to the surface. 

✧ Frequent trips to the surface, meant frequent visits (where he could, of course. Lord Hades would have his head if he didn’t prioritize his job).

✧ At first, he refrained from any sort of involvement in your life -- he’d come for his job, and nothing more. But now he seeks you out. He’ll stop by to check in, or even just to see your face. And one thing differs now, when he comes to reap the soul’s whose allotted time had run out.

     ✧ “Take good care of them, Thanatos.” You’d smile softly as you place a coin over your patient’s mouth, voicing your little prayer to him. You said this each time, too, and it made him think you could see him.

✧ He wasn’t sure when it began, but thoughts of seeing you as he carried out his job filled him with a warm, soft feeling.

Hypnos:

✧ In charge of the census of the dead, Hypnos was aware of how everyone dies; when they died, and where they end up in the Underworld.

     ✧ He found that his job became so ingrained in his being that, when he’d drift off at work, his dreams would take him to visions of the lives of some of the mortals he had met, or have yet the pleasure of meeting when they come to the underworld.

          ✧ Most of these dreams always tie back to a particular individual -- someone who seems to touch the lives of everyone they’ve ever met.

✧ At first, he’d just assumed that you’d met and knew everyone in the world, as the only common denominator throughout these dreams was you. But upon further evaluation of that statement, he had determined that was impossible.

     ✧ Next, he had to admit that perhaps he was drawn to you. Whether it was a connection the Fates mandated, or it was his subconscious actively seeking you out, he’d have these visions of your life, these interactions with the people in your life.

          ✧ An image of your smile, the depiction of an experience you had. You’d invaded his dreams, and eventually his thoughts.

✧ Being shackled to the House, and without the luxury that Thanatos or Zagreus have to go to the surface, Hypnos only has a very one-sided means of interacting with you; and though he doesn’t know you, he’s very drawn to you.

✧ It’s curious. As he’s seen all these snippets of your life, he feels he simultaneously knows everything about you, yet nothing about you at all. He could see these candid shots of your life, but he doesn’t know your dreams, your ambitions, or even the sound of your voice.

✧ With his thoughts always falling back to you, he’s a bit more spacey on the job, receiving reprimands from Hades more and more often, looks judgement from his brother, and looks of solemn understanding from his mother.

✧ Achilles teases him, recognizing traits of “a lovesick puppy”, but never really gets an answer on what that means (he might even observe Cerberus for a while to see if he can understand it a little more).

✧ He awaits enthusiastically, and a tad bittersweetly, for your eventual arrival to the Underworld, desiring nothing more than to meet you, and to hear your experiences of life on the surface.

⚠️Spoilers Ahead!! ⚠️

Zagreus:

✧ Most of your mortal life is spent in Persephone’s vibrant and luscious gardens.

     ✧ You lived not too far from her cottage, and you made frequent visits to her, bringing her goods and gifts from the market, and the words from all the gossipers of the town.

          ✧ As far as you knew, she was the only one who lived here, and she didn’t seem to have any family of her own. Taking care of her gardens seemed to be her passion, and to be honest you enjoyed her company. There was something about her, so lively and inviting, that made it hard to stay away for long.

✧ Trips to Persephone were always fragrant, delicious, and warm, despite the permanent snow in the region. Conversations over meals, fishing by the river, and of course time spent in the garden where you got to watch your toils bear great produce.

✧ One day, you return to the cottage, a basket of bass and trout resting on your hip as you walk. The plan was to make a profit selling them in town, and use the coin to get better tools for the garden and the kitchen.

     ✧ Though, on the way to the cottage, you notice scorched earth in the shape of a bare footprints. The trail leads up to the garden, where you find Persephone with a man you’ve never seen before. A man like you’ve never seen before.

          ✧ You watch on as Persephone embraces this ethereal form, whose skin is much like ash and moonstone. He looked beyond out of place, yet, something about him felt so familiar.

               ✧ Focused on the two before you, carelessly unaware of your surroundings, you snap a branch under your foot, alerting them of your presence. The stranger flinched, tensing as he pulls his guard up. He turns to meet your eyes, and whatever words you’d formed in your mind vanished.

               ✧ One red, one green -- his eyes bore into yours as you admire his. That electrifying moment of attraction ends in time with Persephone clearing her throat.

               ✧ No one needed to say anything for you to recognize he’d had the same energy as Persephone. You could deduct immediately that he was her son. But nonetheless, Persephone’s words broke the silence, “[Y/N], This is... my son. This is Zagreus.”

               ✧ “Zagreus..” You sit a moment, tasting his name as it falls from your tongue, and it was something about the way you said his name that drew a shiver up his spine.

               ✧ “[Y/N]... Have you been here the whole time? How much did you hear? Do the Olympians know of you, too?” His questions went miles a minute, but made no sense to you. “Why would the Olympians...? What, do you mean the Gods?” You ask, and Zagreus exchanged a look to his mother, recognizing his own mistake.

               ✧ However, he’d reached his limit in that moment, and Zagreus clutched his chest, stumbling. Immediately, you drop your basket in worry, and go over to help him maintain his balance. Persephone placed her hand on your shoulder, and you watched as his body faded away.

✧ It was then, between that day and the next visit Zagreus paid to the garden, that the whole truth was told to you. How Persephone was actually the daughter of Demeter, the cause of the perpetual snow, and Zagreus was her son with the God of the Underworld, Hades.

✧ Since the day he’d met you in his mother’s garden, his curiosity was piqued. 

     ✧ How long had you been visiting his mother? If you hadn’t known she was a Goddess of Olympus, what was it that drove you to help her? His heart beat faster with his recount of your eyes, your voice, your worry as he felt the tug of the Styx back to the Underworld.

✧ His mission remained escaping to see his mother again, and again, but he found himself hoping each time that you were there.

     ✧ To try the food that you’d make for him. To hear the newest rumor that was spreading around the town. To help around the garden, and see you glow with happiness as each of the plants met maturity. 

✧ You’d invaded his mind, tugging at the strings of his heart -- and on the days when you were away from the garden, his mother had no problems teasing him about his crush on you. Though, she admits, if she’d have to give her only son away to anyone, it would absolutely be you.

[madfantasy]

I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping