#my mom's relationship with the dog is a little unhealthy

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

hii 📓

Okay so the thing is that I wanted a “the Zenin raised Megumi instead of Gojo” fic but the thing is that I’m absolutely convinced that if the Zenin were the ones that took Megumi they wouldn’t actually take tsumiki too. The fandom consensus I’ve personally seen has been that she would have been taken and mistreated by zenin for being a female non sorcerer but I personally think they would have just straight up left her behind.

They only bought Megumi. They keep non sorcerers and women as servants in their compound but all of them are Zenin themselves. Tsumiki isn’t related and I couldn’t really see any reason why they’d want her. Which turned this into a fic where Tsumiki loses her brother, but she’s trying to find him again, she swears. I think of it as my “siblings doomed by the narrative desperately try to write a new one where they can be together” fic.

The thing is that Tsumikis mom was one of those people who thought love and consumption were synonymous. She had a habit of getting caught up with assholes and just… having both of them chew on each other for a while until it turns into this horrible fucking bloodbath.

Tojis just another loser her mom got caught up in, but he’s Tsumiki’s favorite out of all the losers, because he gave her her brother. Her mom marries this random guy she barley knows and Tsumikis pretty sure she does it so they can both ditch their kids twice as much, secure in the knowledge that there’s supposedly another person checking in. It works out great for them, because they both stop coming entirely. It’s fine, because Tsumiki has Megumi and Megumi has Tsumiki and they don’t need anything else.

It’s one of those things where they were in really unhealthy circumstances and it made their relationship a little bit unhealthy but not necessarily bad. They both had to grow up way too fast and deal with way too much too soon and become codependent on each other because they are, in the most literal way possible, dependent on one another. Neither of them know how to love in a way that doesn’t involve sacrificing themselves for their sibling, mostly because they don’t have a way that doesn’t involve that.

They’re in a sinking ship and tsumiki knows it. Their parents aren’t coming back. The money is going to run out sooner or later. Their problems are stacking up.

Megumi has confessed to her that he sees things that no one else does. When she asks him how he knows no one else sees them, he explains that they’d say something if they did and won’t say anything else. And she doesn’t know what to believe but she refuses to call him crazy. He tells her that monsters cling to her back and he fights them off for her. She patches up his bruises and cuts and tells him he’s brave and tries to figure out if she’s just imagining that her back feels lighter after. He tells her that there are dogs that only he can see that have started following him around, and she tells him she believes him and can never remember, later, if she meant it or was just saying it.

The last time Toji came by, he left them more money than tsumikis ever seen in her life, took them to ice cream, told them that he was sorry he was so shit at this and that the money was Megumi’s share in a payment. It was for something he was going to help daddy with later. Tsumiki and him were to use it to take care of themselves and be healthy, because Megumi couldn’t help him later if he wasn’t. And tsumiki was always afraid of what he meant by that, but in the end, she let it slip her mind. After all, Toji hadn’t been by in ages. He probably wouldn’t come by at all.

And he didn’t. But others did. Two men she’s never met before are waiting outside their building one day, and when they see Megumi, they laugh. But the thing that Tsumiki can never get out of her mind later is that she swears they weren’t looking at Megumi directly. They were looking at his dogs.

Tsumiki basically tries to get Megumi and powerwalk past them, but they’re a lot bigger and a lot stronger and there’s nothing she can do, really. They have a brief conversation about whether they should take her too, before one decides that Toji only sold him his kid and to leave the other behind. This makes both of them try to run, but there’s nothing either of them can do to overpower the men, and the men say that “Naobito would go ballistic if they left the ten shadows behind” so they take Megumi and leave her.

They put Megumi in a car and shove Tsumiki to the curb outside of it, and she tried to hold onto his hand, she swears. She grabbed at the car door even when the car started moving, and she banged on the windows, and she watched as Megumi kicked and punched and screamed inside, until one of them hit him and he went still. She ends up falling and hitting her head when the car picks up speed, and when she wakes up again, the cars gone and she has no idea where it went.

And it becomes a foundational moment for who she is. I think she was just intensely lonely before Megumi and poured a lot of herself into this idea of a family together. Tsumikis never able to shake the moment of her being outside the car and Megumi being on the inside, and not being able to get into him. She can never again get what she felt in that moment out of her head.

She goes to the police and tells them that it’s her little brother, his dad sold him but she wants him back, and they’re like “…”. The issue is that apparently her mom can pick up the damn phone if the police call and she shows up, spins some lie about how her and the stepdad split up and he took the kid with him, they never adopted each others kids so it was within his rights, Tsumiki was taking the separation hard and acting out. She lies, basically, because toji hadn’t kept up his end of the deal and dropped in to check in (neither had she) and his kid wasn’t her responsibility, he could do what he wanted with him. She doesn’t want the police poking around the way she lives. Just let the kid go because he’s probably dead and not her real brother anyway.

Tsumiki refuses to give up on him. They were both kids who no one cared about but they cared about each other and that had to be enough. But she’s seven with no support and zero idea on how to find him. She starts skipping school to look for him in random streets, puts up flyers, can’t go outside without looking for him. She gets held back a year in school because of how much she skips and she can’t bring herself to care. She buys him gifts on every birthday and writes him letters she can’t post because she’s going to find her brother and she’s going to prove to him that she never once stopped looking for him. She just. She needs him to know that she never stopped looking for him. She needs to find him and be able to honestly tell him she never stopped trying.

One day her mom comes back in clothes she can’t afford and comes with movers they shouldn’t be able to afford and announces a move they definitely can’t afford. Tsumikis absolutely opposed to going because if her brother comes to look for her, she needs to be in their old apartment so he can find her. She doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter. They have mysterious new benefactors who are setting up a trust to take care of tsumiki with a very generous stipend for her mom but they have to move to Sendai as a stipulation of getting the money.

It’s not until the attorney who’s managing her trust hands her a set of glittery blue butterfly hairpins that tsumiki realizes her mom sold her brother a second time.

The thing is that tsumiki had this one cheap set of butterfly hairpins she’d always stopped to look at in the store when she took Megumi to go grocery shopping. Shed never buy them, because they couldn’t afford it, but it was the thing she wanted most openly in front of him. She was always secretly really insecure about her hair, because they were the kind of poor where bar soap was a luxury they could only sometimes afford and kids at school made fun of how her hair was dirty and frayed. Megumi was the only one who ever saw how badly she wanted those stupid hair clips. If they had to give her a set of butterfly hair clips, it’s because he demanded that they did.

It’s basically implied that the Zenin are the ones paying for her care and upkeep due to an unspecified deal they cut with Megumi, but when they approached her mom with it, they added the caveat that Tsumiki had to be moved to a new city entirely and there could be no forwarding address left anywhere.

The zenins stance on tsumiki is, effectively, that she’s a weakness Megumi needs to be weaned off of. They honestly assumed he’d just like, forget she ever existed and he. Did not do that. He actually pitched a total bitch fit. Tried to scale the compound walls. Bit multiple people including the clan leader. But he’s got the ten shadows, he’s heir to the clan, and he can’t be caught up on some random non sorcerer who isn’t even a Zenin. They end up agreeing to pay for her to live very comfortably if he starts cooperating more but they want to make sure that he can’t ever find her again if he does ever succeed in running away.

Tsumiki is at once full of hope and hopeless, because on one hand, the butterfly clips prove that Megumi still loves her and remembers her, at least in her mind. But at the same time, she’s being moved to Sendai and doesn’t know how they’ll ever find each other again. She doesn’t honestly know if they’d recognize each other if they saw each other again. She wears the butterfly clips every day, even when she gets too old for the style, because she’s more confident about her brother recognizing them than her.

The thing about tsumiki is that she doesn’t understand hate. She just doesn’t. Her mom and toji always got caught up in these perceived slights and revenge and never once let go of the past. They’d destroy themselves if it meant taking down the people they hated with them. She never wanted that. She wanted to live with the people she loved and she’d happily turn around and forget everything, all the pain, all the searching, if it just meant she could go back to being megumis sister.

This isn’t about hate. This is about that moment outside the car, where her brother was inside and she couldn’t get in to him. This is about how helpless and small she felt when they shoved her to the curb and ripped megumis hand out of hers. She needs to make sure that when she finds Megumi, she can take him home again. So she decides she needs to learn how to fight.

Itadori Yuuji has the constitution of an ox and the strength to match it, and he is known for getting in fights with bullies and trouncing them so thoroughly that it’s never a question of who wins when the fight starts. He’s insanely physically capable and can hold his own in a fight with ease. He’s also nice and kind and Tsumiki’s comfortable enough asking him to teach her how to throw a punch or two.

She is bad at it.

So fucking bad at it.

But she never gives up, and Itadori is nice enough to keep teaching her despite how embarrassingly horrible she is at it all. He always asks her why she wants to learn so bad, she doesn’t seem to like it all, and she never answers his question honestly.

In their last year of middle school, their class has a trip to Kyoto. She, Itadori, and the rest of their group walk into some random restaurant in the city and have barely sat down when someone comes inside, starts searching every booth in the restaurant while shouting Tsumikis name.

And oh. They could recognize each other after all.

She looked for Megumi in every crowd she was ever in, but she didn’t consider that he was doing the same. Or that he would see her first.

Her brother grew up without her seeing it. Hes older, dressed in strange, expensive clothes, has a slightly bruised up face and split lip, but his eyes are the same, and he looks like the brother she remembered.

But a lot more nervous than Megumi ever was. He was a tiny, stoic child who didn’t take any shit and never showed fear, even when there were monsters that only he could see. But he’s nervous when he tells her that she probably doesn’t recognize him or remember him, but when she was a lot younger, he—

Megumi. He’s her little brother. Of course she remembers him. She’s been looking for him everywhere.

Megumi didn’t smile much as a child, but he smiles at her then. He tells her he doesn’t have a lot of time and she tells him that they can leave out the back, and he never let her hold his hand as a child but he takes her hand so easily in that second. And just for a second, she’s his sister again, and it’s everything she wanted.

They never make it out the back.

Two men come in. Megumi calls one of them uncle, and he goes stiff and flat the second he sees him. His uncle apologizes for his nephew, tells everyone that he always makes scenes when they’re out in public, tells him to apologize to the nice people and leave. Megumi was mistaken.

Tsumiki tríes to keep ahold of his hand. Really, she does. She tries to tell people to call the police. But megumis “uncle” steps towards her and Megumi slams him into a table, and then suddenly Megumi’s the one insisting that they leave immediately. They can go. It’s fine. They’re leaving. She loses ahold of his hand.

She tries to follow, but the other man restrains her. She learns that she’s better at slamming plates into peoples heads than she is at punching, and at this point itadoris Friend In Danger Override has been triggered and he fucking tackles the dude, which gives tsumiki the clearing that she needs to chase outside after her brother. She gets out just in time to see him be pushed into a car, and she’s had years to think about the last time this happened and figure out what to do differently. She throws herself in front of the car and refuses to move.

See her entire stance is that she’ll sooner get run over and killed in the street than let them do this a second time, but she also can see Megumi trying to fucking punch the drivers head in from behind because he’s about to hit his sister. His uncles trying to restrain him, and just for a second, she sees his hands make the shape of the shadow puppets he used to show her as children. Something invisible slams her out of the way just as his uncle knocks him out.

She picks up a rock and tries to smash in the fucking window with it, and itadori has to pull her out of the way to keep her from getting her feet run over when the car finally tears out of the parking lot. She goes ballistic on him for stopping her because her brother was right there and she lost him again and she didn’t even get the license plate. He was right there.

The police basically do jack all again. There’s no license plate, no names they can follow up on, and they’re still half convinced this is a settled custody issue even though tsumiki insists her brother was sold by his dad and is very plainly getting hurt wherever he is. Itadori is now a devoted advocate of finding tsumikis brother and reuniting them, and both basically kind of end up becoming really close to the other? He’s taking care of himself and his grandpa alone, she’s alone while her moms awol again, and they both become the others support system.

At one point, there’s this random girl and boy who doesn’t speak who shows up to their school for indeterminate reasons. The girl is bored and twirling her glasses in one hand while the person in a suit that they’re with asks the principal questions, and when tsumikis eyes catch at the right angle, she sees an invisible monster clinging to a classmates back through them. She realizes it’s exactly what Megumi always talked about and still remembers that the people who took him could see his dogs. She corners the two others in a room and tries to demand information about the invisible monsters or see if they know her brother or the people who took him, and immediately gets blown off. The fight escalates until the girl tells him that actually, yeah. She knows tsumikis brother. He is a very special person to some very powerful people, and the only way she can ever help him is to tell him that she’s let go of him and that he needs to do the same to her. That’s the only message that the people who have him would ever let get through, and his life would get a lot better as soon as he got it.

The people who have him would give him anything in the world, except for her. He could be a lot happier and healthier than he is right now if he just agreed to stop trying to find tsumiki. If she really wants to help her brother, then she needs to let him go.

Tsumiki nails her in the back of the head with a milk carton when she tries to walk away. It sloshes out on her. Tsumiki did not intend this. She cannot admit that fact. There are some actions you just have to own when you do them. She tells the girl that he’s her brother and she’s never letting go of him. She’s going to find him. They can’t keep him from her forever. She doesn’t care how long it takes her.

For a second, tsumiki really thinks this girl is going to kick her ass, but she doesn’t. She wishes her luck and tells her she’ll need it, and it’s only later that tsumiki realizes she slipped the eyeglasses into her pocket.

And as it turns out, her brothers monsters were real all along.

There was a knife that toji left in the frame of his bed. Tsumiki confiscated it from Megumi as soon as he found it, and it was odd and strange and gave her bad feelings when she held it, and it can kill the things that gather on her back. When she follows Itadori to their local high school and joins the occult club in an attempt to find more people involved in this world of invisible monsters, she wears the eyeglasses and keeps the knife hidden in her bag.

It comes in handy when her senpais are trying to open this thing and suddenly there’s like a fucking portal opening and Actually Let’s Not Oh Too Late Let’s Run Let’s Fucking Run.

They run.

Meanwhile at the hospital Megumi found out in very quick succession that his sister has fucking sukunas finger and also that there’s a very over enthusiastic himbo who is the self appointed vice president of the Find Fushiguro Megumi And Bring Him Home Club who absolutely fucking refuses to leave his side. Sorry who are you. Why are you so enthusiastic about finding him. Megumi sort of was the one doing the finding there was a whole tracking situation and him waiting dramatically in the shadows like they just did it.

Anyway they run very very quickly to tsumikis school where she is dodging she is serpentining this is a fuckton of monsters oh holy fuck is that her brother?

The fight goes bad.

Tsumiki manages to follow itadori and her brother out at a much slower pace because she’s not a freak of nature like itadori and shows up just in time to see her brother shouting at itadori to not eat the fucking finger while itadori is absolutely trying to eat the fucking finger.

She chucks her shoe at him. The finger goes flying.

Then the monster eats it instead.

Tsumiki: :o

Yuuji: :o

Megumi: fuck

Now there’s a bigger monster and the fight goes even worse. There’s a lot of shouting. Itadori ends up with her knife. Then he ends up getting eaten and they’re down both a knife and itadori, who’s probably fucking dead. Then megumis insisting she run and she’s insisting he shut the fuck up because it’s sort of taken a decade to get this close to him again and she’s not fumbling the bag now because of a monster on the rampage. Have a sense of fucking priorities here.

Then itadori bursts out of the monsters stomach with the knife like the fucking Kool Aid Man and the fight is suddenly very over. Good job, team.

Gojo rolls up to his most stoic and eternally pissed off student having a dramatic and emotional reunion with his sister.

Yuuji, in a very bad whisper: no no so like she’s been looking for him for years but he saw her in the restaurant

Gojo: :o go on

Yuuji: and then he got caught by like, I don’t know, he said he was his uncle or something but the dude acted so weird and creepy and they put him in a car and Tsumiki tried to stop the car but they got away

Gojo: *gasp* what no

Yuuji: I know! Anyway then I start helping her look for him but we can’t find him anywhere until I’m at the hospital and he just walks up to me right?? And I’m like “dude I have been looking everywhere for you” and he’s like “I have no idea who you are, I’m here about that fucked up demon finger” and I’m like—

Megumi, really trying to have a moment here: we can both hear you

And megumis like “this is uh. My new teacher. I guess. I am his only student. And he is uh. Enthusiastic. Do not linger in conversation with him.”

Tsumiki is lingering. She needs fucking intel so he can’t disappear again. Where does he go to school and can she transfer there. It’s fucking wizard school? Will they take her even though she’s not a wizard? She cannot emphasize enough that she will study any fucking subject they want so that way she can be close with her brother again she does not care if it’s applicable to her education or life. She can throw things at people itadori tell the man tell him how enthusiastically she will throw things at monsters for their weird fucking wizard school.

Itadori: she hit me in the face with her shoe like five minutes ago

Tsumiki: see???

Megumi keeps trying to forbid her from wizard school but she’s technically the older sister so she has override rights. She will go to wizard school. How does she get wizard school to accept her.

And Gojos just really weird and off and keeps looking at Megumi and saying that he “didn’t know he had a sister.”

He really didn’t know that Megumi had a sister he wanted to stay with.

And then suddenly it’s like a switch is flipped and he’s back to his normal self telling them to leave everything to him, because he’ll make sure tsumiki can come back with them. And uh? Itadori? Weirdly physically capable kid who will apparently eat anything? Is he going to be good getting home after all this?

Itadori: actually if it’s not too much trouble can I go to wizard school too my grandpa sort of died half an hour ago and I don’t have plans for the rest of my life. Tsumikis kind of my best friend and I’d like to make sure she’s all good at wizard school. I’m a really good fighter and I stabbed the last monster so like can I come too because you know. Dead grandpa. No family or future to speak of. Haha.

Gojo:

Megumi:

Tsumiki, softly: dude

There’s more after they make it to jujutsu high but this is already really long so we leave it here

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Ooh, I got one. AITA for telling me sick, elderly dad "no" when he asked if I'd come help around the house?

So I think I know the answer to this already, but I'm curious about other people's opinions…. and I want to rant.

My dad and I (36, trans masc but I only figured that out about 5 years ago) have been butting heads for a while. Family situation is: I had cool hippy liberal parents but things went downhill with various addictions and depression. I lived with them until I was 30 (with me paying the bills for several years) and then finally moved out after I realized how unhealthy it was for me to be there.

Moving out coincided with me figuring out some things about myself, mainly the trans thing, probably because I felt more comfortable/safe and could focus on things other than that shitty living situation.

Another thing I'd finally realized, shortly before I moved out, was how messed up my relationship with my dad had been. Basically, I grew up with him doing this thing where he'd tell me I couldn't trust any of my friends (the implication being I could only trust him), or he'd tell me how smart I was because I saw things his way and talk about how people we knew were dumb because they didn't. He also taught me that I shouldn't show or admit to mental illness or neurodivergence because people (even my friends) would take advantage of me.

Once I'd gone, he repeatedly asking me to come visit, sending me messages about how sad he was and how much he missed me. I did visit a few times, but just being back in that house makes me feel real uncomfy.

At some point I share with him my observations about our past and how it negatively effected me. His response… is to say he doesn't think that's how it went. I keep trying to explain, asking him to acknowledge that these things did happen between us and, whether he meant it to or not, it did mess me up. He keeps dismissing it or redirecting the blame onto my mom or his shitty dad, or suggesting that my friends (who I'm living with now) have turned me against him.

But he also keeps pestering me to visit more, guilt-tripping me with how sad my old dog, Cavall, is after each time I do come by (I would have taken the dog with me, but he's a big fluffy malamute mix and the roommates have a small house + one is allergic. I didn't want to impose too much, so I'd limited myself to bringing only the one cat who I had the closest bond with and leaving the other pets with my parents).

All of this back-and-forth with my dad finally comes to a head a couple months ago when I ask for a specific item of mine that I left at my parents house. My dad responds with a little poem about how depressed he is because he misses me and I've abandoned him. I throw back some brusque line in which I call him "bro"…

… and that earns a response in which he mocks me about pronouns and gender identity.

I am shocked, because my parents were always super cool about queer stuff. I tell him so and then block him on facebook. He responds to that by scouring the house for everything I left behind, packing it up in cardboard boxes, and dumping it all in my roommate's driveway with zero notice.

I figure he's done with me at that point… but then, last week, he sent me an email which reads:

"I hope you're well. I hope your family is well. I miss you. I'm sick today. Weak. Dizzy. Queasy. Slept a lot, thankfully. I want to ask you, if I were to become too sick to do things for days, would you be someone I could ask to come make some soup, take out the trash, help and give comfort? I won't be surprised at a "no", but, a "yes" would be wonderful. I got the trash out and the dogs fed. Cavall is off his breakfast lately, but, usually eats supper. He used to eat better, but, he's really getting old and slow now. In the six years I've walked him he's gone from wanting to run a lot to slow walking and sniffing. I'm getting down some oatmeal with raisons and yogurt now. Hopefully I'll be better tomorrow. I think so, but, the question arises at such times. Plz tel yes or no, so I can know for future reference."

And, well, I told him no. I hate the idea of abandoning sick elderly people who are already living in poverty, but after all the shit I described, I don't want to be around him. So, what's the vote?

What are these acronyms?

[kennascreepycorner]

Devil's Heat

༶• ┈ ┈୨♡୧┈ ┈ •༶

--- ❥ 6.2k words --- ❥ original work, not a fanfic --- ❥ TW; rape, manipulation, kidnapping, abuse, petplay, unhealthy relationships, religious themes, **none of this is okay irl and i do not condone any of this irl, it is a work of fiction**

{ Elizabeth, or Liza, is a nice girl who moved to a big city after high school. She frequents the bookstore, and one day a simple trip there goes horribly wrong.

Silas knows what he's doing is wrong, and he doesn't care. He knew he needed Liza the moment he saw her. }

(also posted to Ao3!)

this is unfinished <//3 I just wanted to post a little bit to see if its any good!!

Kidnapping. It's such a foreign concept to most people, and I mean, it was to me too. Until yesterday. I didn’t really think that I would get kidnapped on account of well, I usually don't consider that stuff.

I woke up yesterday, June 9th, 2024. I got dressed for a simple trip to the bookstore. I didn’t feel like doing much makeup so I all but skipped it, putting on only mascara to accentuate my green eyes, and a small bit of lip gloss. I put my short, blue hair into low pigtails and I looked in the mirror before I left. 

I hadn’t realized there was a car tailing behind me the whole way there, I was too busy focused on the road. Driving made me nervous after the accident with my mom when I was 12.

When I got to the store, everything was still normal. I sat in my car for a second and fixed my hair, reapplied my lip gloss, and made sure I looked decent. This was the first day in a while I hadn't felt paranoid, I'd been feeling weird lately. Almost like someone was watching me.

I chuckle at the memory, wishing I would have known better.

As soon as I stepped out of the car, shit hit the fan. I felt someone grab my wrist, and turned around to see a grown man. Albeit, an attractive one, but a grown man nonetheless. He was tall, easily a foot taller than me. He had pale skin, black hair that was long and most likely professionally taken care of based on how healthy it was. His eyes were bright red, and stared deep into my soul. He was wearing a mask covering his mouth and nose, a black button up, and black pants. I was so taken aback that I didn't even think to run.

“What are you-” He pulled me closer to his large figure, covering my mouth as my back hit his chest. I could feel his abs as he pressed his body to mine. Fight or flight began to set in, and I tried to run. I tried throwing all my force into fighting, kicking and throwing myself around as much as I could, but he had me pretty much immobilized. 

“Don’t panic, princess. I’ll take good care of you.” His voice traveled into my ears, and made my head spin. 

I felt a cloth go over my mouth; and my vision blacked out. I woke up later in this fucking room. 

I hate this fucking room.

It’s dark, and it's cold. My only sense of warmth is curling into myself on the small mattress in the corner of the room. My ankle has a heavy chain and padlock around it, connecting me to the wall. Above where the chain connects to the wall. It’s not big; and not very good quality. It’s made out of plywood and has no lid. The room is roughly 40 feet by 40 feet, if I had to guess. It’s a perfect square. All I get to eat and drink out of are two dog bowls. There's a toilet; I can't reach it while I'm chained to the wall though. 

My head snaps up at the door across the room when I hear the handle jiggle, turn, and the door slowly creak open. I curl into a ball and shove myself as far into the corner as I possibly can.

“There’s my pretty puppy.” The tall man walks towards me.

“Please don’t hurt me-” I begin to speak, but he interrupts me.

“Do not speak unless spoken to. You are no longer a person, you are my pet.” he walks closer to me slowly as he is speaking. 

“Training will be absolutely miserable for both of us. However, if you stay obedient and learn quickly, you can be spoiled like you deserve. Understood?” I stare blankly at him, my mouth drying out. He’s at the end of the mattress. 

He looks down at me, his red eyes piercing through me once again, making me fold immediately. I’m scared of him. 

“Understood.” My voice comes out shaky and uncertain. He shakes his head, crouching down to look at me closer.

“You may call me sir.” He stands back up. 

“Yes sir,” I murmur and feel my head spin once again. I crawl to the edge of the mattress and watch him as he moves around the room, inspecting the small amount of items that are present. Only now do I realize the clothing I am wearing is not the same thing I came here in. All I’m wearing is an oversized shirt and my underwear. 

“Are you hungry princess?” He asks, after what feels like an eternity of silence. He looks at me, and I slowly nod my head. He walks over to the door and exits. I make a face, quickly correcting it when I remember my situation. I cannot disrespect this man, it might cost me my life. 

He returns with a bag filled with something, and a large jug of water. He walks over to my ‘dining area’, and begins to unroll the top of the bag. 

Please don’t be actual dog food. Please do not be actual dog food.

I’m almost happy when I see him scoop out dry cereal. 

“This one is your favorite, so you have no excuse not to eat it.” I almost smile at that, finding it somewhat attractive. Then I realize how creepy it is that he knows what my favorite cereal is.

He fills the other bowl with water. He then walks back to the door. 

“I will be back tomorrow. I’m going to attempt to make this room more… bearable.” He turns and leaves the room once again. I let out a breath I did not realize I had been holding in. I feel panic rising in me, and I know I need to calm myself down so I don’t have a panic attack. Drinking some water would probably be helpful.

I try and pick up the bowl of water to drink out of it, only to find it has been welded to the floor. 

“Deadset on this dog thing huh?” I wonder aloud, not expecting a response. 

“You are cuter than any real dog could be, but yes.” I jump when I hear a reply, looking around the room. I hear a chuckle emerge from the darkness again. 

“Calm down, pup.” The name he calls me makes my head spin.

“I have an intercom system, and microphones on the camera in this room. I forgot to mention this earlier, but as you start to get adjusted to your new life, rules will be introduced and enforced. One of them is prayer.” I roll my eyes as I hear this. 

“Oh great, who am I praying to?” I lay on the sarcasm as thick as possible in this sentence, making it abundantly clear I'm not entertained by the idea of enforced prayer.

“You’ll be praying to me, your new God.” There's a deep chill in his voice, making it abundantly clear he is not joking. I suck in a deep breath when he says this. I can't help but ask myself if this guy is really that delusional. Something deep inside me ignites, though. Maybe a curiosity, but I decided to leave it alone. For the moment, at least.

I lean down, lightly drinking water from the bowl on the floor in front of me. I figure if I can just go to sleep, I can escape this for a little bit. I shakily crawl over to the mattress, and decide to speak up on one of my needs; he seems to somewhat care about them.

“You should pray before bed, princess. Get used to it, if you ever choose not to I assure you, you will regret it.” I feel the expression of disbelief wash across my face. 

“I get I’m only supposed to speak when spoken to, but you mentioned making it more bearable in this room. A stuffed animal might help with that.” As I spoke I curled up on the dirty mattress, sucking my arms and legs into the T-shirt that smelled of a man's cologne. 

I realized as I drifted off to sleep it was probably his. 

I wake up to the sound of the heavy metal door creaking on its hinges. My heart races with fear immediately. I spring up from my sleeping position, snapping my eyes around the room to attempt to ground myself through my anxiety. 

“Good morning pup.” I hear a familiar gruff voice from the corner of the room; and I squint my eyes to try and see him. I don’t respond soon enough for him apparently, because before I know it he’s standing over me, and pulling me up by my hair. 

Searing pain runs through my scalp as it supports my body weight. He pulls my face closer to him, I can smell the same scent on him that I do on the shirt I’m wearing. 

“You will speak when spoken to, understood?” I feel tears welling in my eyes. Fear and anxiety bubbles in my gut, making my legs wobble. 

“Yes, Sir, sorry Sir” My words come out in gasping breaths through the pain as tears fall from my eyes.

He drops me onto the mattress and goes back to his work in the corner. I rub the back of my head, a dull throbbing pain emerging from it. My eyes snap shut and I wince from pain. As I reopen my eyes, the room is illuminated by soft pink lighting. A small smile sneaks onto my lips; pink is one of my favorite colors. I hear a chuckle from my captor. 

“I take it you like the lights, doggy?” My stomach churns at the nickname, I find myself both disgusted by it and… delighted? 

“Yes sir, I do. They’re very pretty, thank you.” I attempt to keep my manners in peak shape, hoping he won’t hurt me again. 

I take in how he has altered the room around me. It honestly does look like a childs room; but it’s comforting. The once barren floors are now lined with soft pink carpet. My bowls stay in the same spot, refilled with new water and cereal. ‘Will I only be allowed to eat cereal?’ As silly as the fear seems, the thing I’m most scared about is losing my figure. I continue observing the room. I mentioned one thing about stuffed animals, and now there's a large pile of them just within reach of how far I can go with my chain. There's also a collection of books, once again within reach. I pick one up and realize all of these are all my books, seemingly taken from my house. He has also put all of the books I was planning on reading in here for me. I’m not sure why I’m surprised at this point, it’s obvious he was stalking me.

I’m unsure of how to get my captors attention without angering him, so I raise my hand. His eyes snap to me after I wave it around a slight bit. 

“Yes, princess?” He responds simply. I swallow, picking at the skin on my arms with my fingernails. “I need uh, I need to use the toilet.” I shift around, desperately trying to hold it in. He walks over to me slowly. He gestures to my ankle. 

“I’m going to take off your chains. If you try to run, I will break your legs.” His voice once again becomes extremely serious, losing its gentle edge that he has applied when speaking to me so far. Fear runs through my veins, and my eyes widen, rounding at the corners. My head bobs up and down in agreement, fear laced through my actions. He crouches down, gently grabbing my ankle. His hand is warm, but his fingers are calloused. He slides the key into the lock, carefully opening the shackle around my ankle. 

“I will turn around, however, I am not leaving. Be fast please.” He stands up and turns around. I weakly move up to my feet, and rush to the toilet. I don’t have time to be embarrassed, I’m more concerned with getting my business done. I finish up and return to the mattress. 

“I’m done.” He turns around and repeats his previous actions with the same softness as before. My obedient actions have an undertone of fear, not love. Both he and I can see that. He stares at me for a moment, staying at eye level with me. I stare into his eyes and feel heat rise to my face, realizing how exposed I truly feel in this moment. I take the time to observe his face. He has a square, sharp jawline. His hair is pulled back into a ponytail. His eyes are truly one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. What am I thinking? I blink, breaking the eye contact we had been holding. He stands up again swiftly. 

“I have a new mattress for you. I apologize for the state of the last one, my love. This room was used previously for those I didn’t care for so much.” He gestures to a mattress which I somehow haven’t noticed until now. It’s significantly bigger than the one I’m currently on. It has what look like light pink sheets on it, only a fitted sheet. It seems I still haven’t earned the privilege of blankets. 

“Please stand up.” He has me stand off to the side as he takes the dirty old mattress and tosses it near the door, moving the new one into place. He steps back and moves his head towards the mattress, silently telling me to lay down on it. I timidly walk over and flop down, my tired body relaxing as the soft foam morphed to my shape. He leaned down over me. I felt his hand move slowly over my thigh. Despite what I’m telling myself, I whimper. 

“Please stop..” I whine out, but my body betrays me and my hips buck up into his hand as soon as I feel it against my pulsing cunt. I turn away my face in embarrassment.

“Do you really want me to stop, pup? Or do you want me to keep going, to make you feel good like no other boy has?” My chest rises and falls harshly as he rubs me through the thin fabric of my panties. I feel him pull my panties aside, and before I can offer up a protest he slides a thick finger into me. I gasp out in both surprise and pleasure. 

“Want me to make you feel like a bitch in heat?” He begins to move his finger slowly as his voice comes out in a sickly sweet tone. I look at him with half lidded eyes, nodding faster than my brain can even process.

“Okay then princess, here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna let me touch your little body, and I’ll let you feel good.” I continue to nod at him while he speeds up the pace and my hips begin to move once again. 

“On the condition that you obey me,” He begins talking as he inserts another finger, soliciting a lewd moan from me as the corners of my eyes round. I start nodding and whimpering, feeling myself get closer to the edge. 

“Completely.” He pulls his fingers out at the end of his sentence. My head spins processing what he just told me. 

“You want me to.. What?” The fog clears from my mind. He grins at me. He removes his hands from in between my legs. My heart begins to race again, from both fear and arousal. He was my stalker, of course he figured out what got me going. 

“I’m the one in control here. You no longer have human rights. You’re a dog. The faster you learn that, the easier it is for both of us, puppy.” He kisses my forehead. I sit up and realize what I just let him do to me. I look down at my hands and they feel foreign. I don’t recognize myself. I realize he’s walking out of the room. I’m freezing cold, so I work up the courage to speak.

“Can I have a blanket?” The words come out just barely above a whisper, but he stops and turns around. I force myself to meet his eyes, and immediately regret having spoken. His eyes are filled with anger; and he’s over by me in a couple quick steps. He grabs me by my neck and pulls me up from the mattress. 

“Use your manners, dog. You’ll get a blanket when you fucking earn it.” Tears well in my eyes as I begin to thrash around from a lack of air. He drops me on the mattress and I begin to gasp for air. I try to get words out but my throat hurts too much. He walks to the door. 

“Be grateful for what you have, mutt. This could be much, much worse.” He opens and closes the door quickly. I figure that I should try to do something that will calm my ragged breath. I realize tears are streaming down my face. I picked up one of the books I was reading, I had started it the day before he took me. I look at the cover and something inside my stomach churns. It feels wrong reading dark romance now that it so heavily applies to me.

Looking around the room aimlessly, I decide going to bed is probably for the best. As I lay down, in my sleeping position that is becoming all too familiar, I hear the distinct sound of his voice. 

“Don’t forget to pray, princess. We wouldn’t want to give you a punishment now would we?” My eyes snap open, fear coursing through my veins once again. I move quickly, assuming the position that I’ve seen people take before praying. I’ve only ever seen this in movies, of course, but I still try my best. I clasp my hands together above my head, and look at the ground before closing my eyes. I mumble out a quick prayer, trying to stall so it seems that I’m saying more than I actually am. 

Once I’m done I crawl back into bed. I suddenly remember the pile of stuffed animals that is in my reach, and I opt to grab one that looks eerily similar to my favorite one from home. Upon further inspections, I realize she is the one from home. I don’t even question how he got it. In my sleepy haze, I find this overall more comforting than disturbing and I drift off to sleep. 

I wake up from a lovely dream of being at home, in my bed, with a blanket and pillows, to being in this hellhole again. I sit up and groggily rub my eyes. I groan. I glance over at the cereal and water, which I didn't eat or drink all day yesterday. Then again, I have absolutely no sense of time, or what day it is. It could still be yesterday. Whatever, it doesn’t really matter right now. I pull my hair back and lightly sip at the water. I’m still getting used to drinking out of a bowl. This place is odd. I feel so loved and cared for, yet so trapped and scared. I wonder if dogs feel like this. I don’t exactly know how to feel. I’m mostly scared and angry. I didn’t fucking ask for this. I didn’t ask to be taken hostage by some creep and forced to play his sick demented little game. 

I pull my face back from the bowl of water, setting my weight on the balls of my feet.

At the same time, I can’t help but wonder if this was fated to happen. All the books I read are exactly like this. I literally fantasized about this stuff. I never expected it to actually happen to me though. I sigh and plop down on the mattress. As much as I like the pink lighting, it’s starting to get a little old. 

“What’s your name?” The sound of my voice cuts through the silence, and all I can hope is that he’s in whatever room he has set up to monitor me so he can hear me. I sit and glance around, waiting calmly for a response.

“My name? Why do you ask, princess?" I struggle to find a response, blurting out whatever comes to mind.

“Well I mean, you know everything about me. If I’m supposed to fall in love with you, I need to know a little bit about you.” I can hear the uncertainty in my own voice. I’m not entirely lying; I can’t fall in love with someone without knowing them first. The only thing is I have absolutely no intentions of falling in love with this guy. At the moment, I’m utterly disgusted both with him for forcing himself upon me, and with myself for allowing it to happen.

“Well I suppose I could let my prey know who is going to devour her mind.” I shudder at the insinuation that he's going to devour me.

“My name is Silas." My curiosity is piqued by this. It’s an irregular name, that’s for sure. 

"Silas Nocturne. The few friends I was capable of making call me Sigh on account of my intimidating demeanor. However, neither of those names may leave your pretty lips. Also, don’t roll your eyes, little dog.” 

A small part of me feels fuzzy at the nickname, and I immediately push it down. He is not your friend or owner, I remind myself in my head, He kidnapped you. I fall onto my back.

“Thank you for telling me. Sorry for uh, rolling my eyes.” Even I can hear the disdain in my own voice as I apologize. My gut instinct tells me to obey him in order to please him, but I won’t let myself. I will not lose myself in this, I can’t. I bring my hands up to my face, palms together, and I begin to pray. 

“Please god fucking get me out of this place.” I mutter it under my breath, over and over again, hoping to please the demands of having to pray to him. Silas doesn’t need to know that I’m not praying to him. I bring my hands back down to my sides, and stare at the ceiling. With nothing to do I find myself drifting into sleep once again. 

Waking up here is dreadful. I either wake up to being alone, or I wake up to this crazy fuck who thinks he’s a god. Every time he opens the door, I desperately try to hope for an escape. I don’t think I’m getting out of here any time soon. Silas has started coming in here every day when he sees that I’m awake. Sometimes, he’s in the room before I’m even awake. He just sits there and watches me sleep, it’s extremely disturbing. 

I groan, trying not to make my discontent too obvious or he will be down here immediately. I manage to drag myself into a sitting position, my posture resembling that of a hunchback. I slowly move to check the box on the wall. I have no idea how often it’ll be filled up. I peer over the edge, my curiosity peaking as I see something sparkle inside of it. 

I scoot closer to the box, wanting to know what’s inside yet being scared at the same time. I take a deep breath before reaching my hand into the box fully. I feel around for a second before my hand hits something soft. I feel my heart drop as I pull it out of the box and realize I’m holding a dog collar.

What the fuck? I stare at the collar, unsure of what to think. It’s a fuzzy pink fabric, with a light pink clip resting on either end, and a metal D-ring sewn into it. The D-ring has a small tag hanging from it, it’s heart shaped. 

I read the tag, almost being distracted by the rhinestones on the edges. ‘Silas’s puppy��� I turn my nose away with disgust. Why is he so insistent on me being his dog? I am a human, not an animal. My focus on the collar is broken when Silas walks in, carrying what seems to be a large, light pink dog crate. It takes all my concentration to not let my jaw drop. 

“Good morning pup.” He smiles at me in a manner that would usually be loving, but due to the situation it sends chills down my spine. I stare at him with horror, unable to find a response. He lets the door slam behind him, and he begins to set up the dog crate. I focus back on the collar. I will never put this on, I swear it on my life. I don’t notice his gaze on me again until he speaks to me.

“Ah, I see you’ve discovered your present.” My face contorts at his misuse of words. Present? This is all one giant punishment. I can’t bring myself to speak, my stomach twisting in a mixture of fear and rage. He crouches in front of my figure, pulling my chin up to look at him.

“Let me explain, puppy.” I pull my face back from his hand, not wanting him to touch me whatsoever. He sighs, walking back over to the dog crate, which was now fully set up. There's also a blanket draped over the top, making the prospect of going inside of it all the more horrifying for some odd reason. Aside from it being pastel pink, I hate it.

“Since you're my dog, I need to train you. Usually, I wouldn’t crate train an animal, but you’re a special case, princess.” My eyes are fixed on the crate. A plethora of thoughts race through my mind. The most pressing question I have comes out of my mouth before I can think to hold it back.

“Are you going to put me in there?” I vomit the words out with such urgency that he’s unable to decipher what I’m saying. He stares at me and smiles.

“Why, princess? Is that what you’re scared of?” He stalks over to me and places a hand on my head. I flinch at first, but relax into the touch as it stays gentle.

“Is that what you don’t want me to do?” He questions me, suddenly closing his fist around my hair. I gasp and lean into his touch, hoping to lessen his hold, but he just pulls with more force. He drags me off of the bed, pulling me to the crate by my hair. Fear and panic start to set in as I thrash and kick my legs but remain unable to escape his grasp. He throws me into the crate, kicking at my legs a bit to make sure I go in fully.

He closes the door, locking it not just with the metal hinges on the crate, but padlocks too. I stare in dismay as I start to cry. I assume he hears my sobbing, because he crouches down to look at me.

“Wondering why I did this, princess?” His tone is mocking, making it very clear the question was rhetorical. I’m too petrified to speak so I just nod in response. 

“I did this because you’re ungrateful. You don’t appreciate how well I treat you. Every single night, I see what other, more cruel people would do to a pretty young girl like you if they found you. That’s why I saved you. That’s why I need to protect you.” He talks to me like he's making any sense, as if this isn’t the most absurd thing I’ve ever been told. As far as I’m aware, he works at a fucking gas station.

“You don’t understand how good you have it here. So you’ll learn to appreciate it. It’ll be good to put the fear of your God into you.” He stands up as he finishes his statement, pulling the blanket fully over the crate, engulfing me in darkness. I feel my breathing speed up at an alarming rate. I hate the dark. My eyes dart around the small space, waiting for a lingering danger to leap out and hurt me. My labored breaths speed up until I can feel myself becoming dizzy. I weakly suck in a deep, harsh breath, before my vision goes dark and I collapse.

I wake up still in the crate, my own personal hell. I have no idea how long it's been. I try to sit up, and I end up hitting my head on the metal bars that make up the top of the crate. I have to stay in a small and uncomfortable position, my knees tucked under me while I basically fold in on myself. I hear his voice break through the thick silence.

“Scared yet?” I logically know it’s coming from the intercom system he told me about before. Right now though, my brain couldn’t care less about logic. I find myself returning to my unhealthy habit of picking at my skin. Dark purple bumps already litter my appendages as a result of my awful coping mechanism. I feel my nails dig into my skin, and the warm blood that follows after. The pain keeps me grounded. At some point after doing this for what seems like hours, I fall asleep again.

I don’t know how many days I’ve been in this crate. It’s had to be at least two, and Silas hasn’t come to see me even once. In a strange way, I miss him. It’s dark, I’m deprived of my senses. I’ve managed to find a somewhat comfortable position to lay in while I'm here. 

I can’t even muster up enough energy to look his way when I hear the door open. There’s no point anyways, I can’t see him because of this damn blanket. I just start praying that he doesn’t hurt me anymore. He circles around my crate, watching me, making me feel like prey being sized up by its predator. 

Which isn’t too far off from what this is. My eyes watch his feet, but I don’t move. He slowly begins to unlock the crate. I feel relief start to pool in my chest, until I look at his eyes. They’re dark, a sinister gaze falling into mine as I realize what’s going to happen to me. He stands up, opening the crate door as he does.

“Get out, mutt.” I slowly maneuver out of the crate, shaking with anxiety. His eyes slide from me to the spot at his feet. I begin to stand up to walk towards him.

“Stay on the fucking floor. Dogs don’t walk on two legs.” His sentence grinds out through clenched teeth. I drop to the floor as fast as possible, all I want is to avoid getting hurt. 

Though, I have a funny feeling that won’t be possible. 

I crawl on all fours to his feet; the act is so humiliating I feel my body try to reject it, but I swallow my nerves and force myself to move. I get to his feel and rest on my shins, letting my arms fall to my thighs.

“It’s been five days now. Learned your lesson yet, puppy?” The question has a condescending ring to it, which I don’t register fast enough. Five days? I try to cover up my shock; ultimately I fail.

“Yes, Si-” My sentence is cut off abruptly with the harsh feeling of a hand hitting my face. My vision is flung to the side as I process what just happened. I take in a deep breath, and look at him once again. He gives me a small smile and reaches to stroke the hair on my head, making me tense up. I watch him closely as he reaches on top of the crate, producing the pink fuzzy collar from before. I stare up at him with light confusion. As he begins to fiddle with it, I stop paying close attention. I observe him instead. His hands, though large, move carefully. Every twitch is planned, he’s coordinated, calculated. He sees me staring at him, and a small smile moves across his lips. My eyes stay trained on his face as his tongue dips out of his mouth and onto his bottom lip. It moves slowly yet confidently over the soft skin that makes up his mouth, then moving to rolling against the air all too seductively.

I feel a burning heat rise between my legs. He stops moving his tongue, seemingly done tweaking with the collar from before. He reaches down to clasp the collar around my neck, and it feels suffocating. Aside from the fuzzy feeling encasing my neck, there's the feeling of two cold, dull metal spikes poking into the right side of my neck. He notices as my hand raises up to feel them. 

“They’re electricity conductors. I’ve set them up to shock you at a high enough level to hurt you, but not to seriously injure or kill you.” He speaks nonchalantly, as if his words haven’t come straight from a horror movie. I tug at the collar, fear making me act on impulse. He chuckles at me.

“Silly dog, there’s no use. I superglued the clasp together. That collar isn’t coming off your neck until I say it does.” He coos at me. I see him pick up a small remote and I begin to tremble. I swear to everything and anything that might be Holy, if this fucking creep shocks me-

My thought process is cut off by searing white pain crashing through my whole body in waves. My vision goes black, and I feel my body fall onto the soft carpeting that lines the floor. I wake up panting and sweaty, and I look at him with more distrust held in my gaze than anyone could imagine. If he wants me to love him, why is he doing this?

I look up to see him standing over me, smiling. 

“That was the lowest setting. You didn’t do anything to deserve it that time, I just wanted to demonstrate what awaits you if you're disobedient.” He allows me time to crawl back onto my legs, slowly recovering from the sharp jolt.

“Have you realized your situation now, princess? You will fall in love with me, it’s only a matter of how much I have to break you first.” My brain barely processes what he’s saying, a throbbing pain emerging from it. I just need to go along with this, I will find a way out eventually. I swallow my pride before pawing at his leg with a closed fist and whining slightly.

“Aw, is the little puppy hurting?” His tone is belittling, making me feel like an idiot just for existing. I nod my head, slightly turning it away as a blush fills in across my cheeks. I’m not lying to him. My head is pounding. He hooks a leash onto my collar and leads me to the mattress.

When did he get a leash? I don’t think much of it due to the haze my brain is in from the pain. He sits down on the bed and pats his knee lightly. I shuffle over to his legs, my head throbbing with pain more and more with each movement. I position my body between his large legs, resting my head on his lower thigh. I feel my eyelids start to fall, but before they can completely close I hear a familiar but gruff voice speak to me.

“Here princess, take this, it’ll help the pain.” Before I have a chance to protest he’s forcing pills into my mouth followed by water, plugging my nose and making me swallow. I try to catch my breath after being force fed mystery medication. 

“What was.. What was that?” I feel my head begin to throb harder, the room spinning around me. He strokes the top of my head and shushes me. I don’t have the energy to protest, and opt into blinking over and over again in a desperate attempt to ground myself. On the last blink, I see Silas begin to unzip his pants.

I feel myself slip into sleep, even as I put all my effort into resisting it. 

I wake up, and I’m laying on the mattress. I rub my eyes and sit up groggily. I feel a weird, cold sensation between my legs, and reach down to feel what it is. As my hand touched my inner thigh, I feel a cold sticky substance on my leg. My stomach turns and ties in knots. I pull up my shirt in a panic, finding relief that my panties are still on, and his mess is just on the outside of them.

Fucking pervert. My face contorts with disgust. I feel myself start to get sick, and I run to the toilet. I vomit for what feels like hours. I have no idea what time it is, ever, and it’s driving me insane.

After I finish throwing up, I try to drink some water. I then slowly crawl up onto the mattress, realizing he took the blanket. I sigh and start crying, letting myself relax for the first time in what feels like forever. 

[ten-chocolate-sundaes]

Hiiii hiiii I haven't seen you talk about your Maitlands ocs but I have chosen some questions that I personally like for you!!!!!!

Would your character wear something someone else picked out for them?

Does your character ever spend more than they have?

Does your character personify objects?

How big is your character's appetite?

Is your character food motivated?

Is your character good with animals?

Is there a creature that scares your character?

What animal would your character say best represents them?

How would your character react to being put in a position of leadership?

What would it take for your character to get into a fight?

What words could tear your character down?How often does your character have nightmares?

How often does your character have nightmares?

Because I don't know how many you have, I chose a bunch!!! :D feel free to ask about my stupid idiot man.

Kskdkddkkd thank youuu I never talk about them but they live in my head forever and ever.

I’ll keep it to their parents & their cat (her name is Nephthys <3). For context cause I rarely talk about them Barb’s mom is dead but the rest of them are alive. I still haven’t come up with final names for the parents yet shhh

Would your character wear something someone else picked out for them?

Adam’s dad - absolutely not. man’s annoying as hell.

Adam’s mom - yes, she dresses however her husband tells her to (they have a really unhealthy relationship)

Barbara’s dad - yes, he’s really chill.

Barbara’s mom - she used to dress up however babs wanted her to

Nephthys - she’ll wear a collar if adam puts it on her, but other than that, no way.

Does your character ever spend more than they have?

Adam’s parents - no, they’re super frugal

Barbara’s parents - no, they were middle class and were careful but reasonable shoppers. barb’s mom was always trying to make sure she had enough money for college.

Nephthys - that cat is lucky the deetzes are rich.

Does your character personify objects?

Adam’s parents - no, they’re no fun

Barbara’s dad - not really, but occasionally would when barbara was little.

Barbara’s mom - all the time. it’s part of the reason barbara personifies objects all the time; she developed the habit when her mom died.

Nephthys - no, but she can see dead people.

How big is your character's appetite? 

Adam’s dad - average.

Adam’s mom - large, but she doesn’t eat much.

Barbara’s parents - average

Nephthys - so fucking big. that cat could eat a horse.

Is your character food motivated?

I don’t really know about anyone else, but Nephthys sure is. She’s picky, though.

Is your character good with animals?

Adam’s dad - no, but not for lack of trying.

Adam’s mom - in the middle. they’re ok with her I guess.

Barbara’s dad - animals like him. they have a family dog that’s really comfortable with him.

Barbara’s mom - Disney Princess level animal person. she’s like a cute animal magnet.

Nephthys - despite being an animal, she’s a jerk to other creatures and fights anyone who isn’t babs, adam, lydia, beej, or charles. Delia is Not Safe.

Is there a creature that scares your character?

Adam’s dad - Beetlejuice, once they meet. And snakes.

Adam’s mom - does her husband count? also beej.

Barbara’s dad - spiders. and beej to a small but present extent.

Barbara’s mom - she’s not afraid of creatures, but concepts.

Nephthys - she isn’t afraid of creatures. creatures are afraid of her.

What animal would your character say best represents them?

Adam’s dad - bear

Adam’s mom - yorkie(?)

Barbara’s dad- aussie shepherd? some kind of big sweet dog

Barbara’s mom - deer

Nephthys- demon.

How would your character react to being put in a position of leadership?

Adam’s dad - oh, he’d be so bossy. it’d be awful for everyone else involved, but he’d love it.

Adam’s mom - she’d be so scared and probably try to pin it off on someone else.

Barbara’s dad - he’d be nervous, but take it in stride and be a great leader.

Barbara’s mom - she’d be flattered, and you’d be lucky to have her as your boss.

Nephthys - demand wet food. silly cat.

What would it take for your character to get into a fight?

Adam’s dad- very little.

Adam’s mom - she’d rather die than get in a fight. she gets angry, but she’s too afraid of the consequences of asserting herself.

Barbara’s dad - he’s pretty reasonable, but politics will get him riled up.

Barbara’s mom - if anyone said anything bad about her daughter, she’d murder them.

Nephthys - fights are enrichment for her. she’d defend babs and adam from anything in their way.

What words could tear your character down?

Adam’s dad - any argument from his family. he doesn’t know how to deal with not being the one with the power.

Adam’s mom - being told she’s fake. she’s afraid of being seen through and criticized for being unable to truly fit societal expectations.

Barbara’s dad - being told he’s a bad father. he gives his everything to be good to barbara, especially after his wife dies, so someone telling him he’s not good enough would kill him.

Barbara’s mom - barbara losing hope. her last days were her hardest because she had to see her teenage daughter act like there’s not life without her.

Nephthys - on a way lighter note, any scolding will make her very sad :( sensitive kitty

How often does your character have nightmares?

Adam’s dad - often. his conscious is guilty and that’s the way it manifests.

Adam’s mom - an average amount

Barbara’s dad - less than the average person

Barbara’s mom - less than average until her accident; her last weeks are full of nightmares.

Nephthys - she is the nightmare.

I’ll ask abt your lil guys, don’t worry 😉

[eashmo]

Hello everyone, welcome to my page. My name is Jessica, but I go by Jess. Just wanted to do a little get to know me because why not?

Location: Georgia

Age: 30

How long have I been on Tumbler?:

since 2013 i do believe, originally got it to post my sad emo poems and to fangirl over emo/Gothic bands 😂 then I used to be somewhat popular on here doing kpop ship moodboard which got a lot of hate doing that, idk why but I did. it also was consuming my life because of the people's demands for a deadline, so I quite that, but I did make forever friends with that creative hobby.

Recently, I've been writing absolute straight-up porn now even tho I feel like I've never been a writer or that I'm good. Also, I think it's funny that in real life, I'm not a sexual person what so ever when I'm in relationships (unless my bias corrupts me 👀🤣)

I do occasionally make moodboard for people still, but only when I choose to do one for a fanfic I've read.

Favorite movies: Lord of the rings/ hobbit (I'm not a hater) and HP.

Favorite animals: frogs and Tigers, I'm actually known as fangorna, the elven frog queen at Renaissance festivals because of my outfit and the probably unhealthy obsession of frogs. So give me all the frog trinkets!

Occupation: i own a small business called fangorn travels in which i do any type of photography and make clay sculptures of snails and nature inspired jewelry. But since 2020, i haven't had luck with getting clients, so my business hasn't taken off. So I work as a dishwasher at a private school.

Pets: 1 dog (hoshi) and 2 toads (gimli and romeo) owner, used to have a fleet of snail at one point.

Favorite music: anything BUT country.

Favorite color: green, but think of the shades of green that's throughout a rainforest.

-Plant mom that actually is doing well on keeping them alive.

Idk what to write now so bye! Hope you enjoyed the get to know me post, geez. I'm awkward ✌🏻

Message me a question if you want to know me more.

[incoherentbabblings]

Heyyy kinda saw Year of the otp and i want to ask if you take any fic req (and it’s okay if you don’t) but the (seemly) unrequited love or university au on April for seems interesting for imsteph or dickkory kejwksk

Take good care 💕💕

Oh! I'm so pleased to get a request! I did wonder if anyone saw that post. Let's go for it then! Here is one for April - I have combined the two. Some smutty time here, but (as you'd expect) nothing that explicit. This is beyond sappy. Hyup! If anyone wants to request ones for later in the year, here's the original post!

One More Mistake

It was a mistake.

Or so Stephanie told herself. Frat House party, too much to drink, the classmate she had come to see, one drunken and ill-advised night later, Tim and Stephanie were in a pharmacy, collecting a morning after pill.

She wasn’t pregnant, that was fine. What was less fine was Tim saying,

“Do you want it to be a thing?”

By ‘thing’, Stephanie had assumed he meant sex. She should have asked for clarity, but instead, she let her head get in the way, and told herself that if Tim had wanted her - romantically - he would have pursued her long before drunk sex. One didn’t wake up after a sloppy one night stand and think oh, no you are the one, you drooling on my back mid thrust half asleep proved it! 

Right?

Stephanie had decided long before sleeping with Tim that she loved him. Earnestly, foolishly, desperately. He was that weirdo who asked questions during lectures, sitting in the second row (not the first, that would be truly weird) and typing far faster than Stephanie could match with a pad and paper. He was that oddball who was dungeon master of a rather eclectic DnD session group, with the posters and books to back it up. He was the foolish boy who was nothing short of a good Samaritan, finding a lost dog and returning it to their owner expecting and accepting no reward, or chasing after a thief when an old lady had her purse taken and managing to body slam the thug into a wall.

He was the beautiful boy that she was so madly, pathetically in love with, that she would rather take a sliver of affection from him, meaningless and empty as it was, than have nothing at all.

No kissing. That was her own rule. Kissing made it too real. Pull his head down instead, right next to her neck, so she didn’t have to look him in the eye. If he looked, he’d know. If they kissed, he’d know. She couldn’t bear the rejection that would inevitably make their relationship, as ill defined and one sided as it was, come crashing down. 

Any rational person would realize such a relationship was doomed. Unhealthy. The sex was good, the pair of them climaxed without fail each time, drunk or not, but their day to day interactions remained unchanged. She still would turn up to lectures five minutes late, Tim near the front as always having arrived fifteen minutes early. Their working groups and tutorials and seminars remained firmly on work and work alone. 

What little pieces of information she'd managed to scrape together from watching and listening to his conversations with others only made her heart ache further. Dead mom, a trying but for the most part absent father, nice enough step-mom, a general dissatisfaction with where life was taking him despite an overwhelming pressure to succeed at something…

Stephanie knew what she was - a very convenient way to blow off steam.

So she let him. She wanted to be useful. And she would close her eyes, hold him as close as she dared, pretend there was something there, only for each time causing her heart to die just a little more. 

Today was particularly difficult. He wouldn’t let her hold him. Instead, he pulled her up so they were sitting entangled, his right hand was wrapped around her waist, the left holding onto her hand so tightly Stephanie believed the blood circulation to be suffering. She did not care, pretending that he was holding on to her because he needed her, she anchored him and comforted him and was an irreplaceable facet of his life and -

She made a mistake.

Her lips found his, just for a moment, brushing skin and heat and warmth. 

Tim jerked back, the expression of his face shocked (disgusted), startling Stephanie out of her day dream. Ashamed, she pressed her forehead to his collarbone, and let him finish his task.

Which he did, dutiful as ever, making Stephanie tremble and gasp and want nothing more than for him to once say what he felt, and mean it. 

She felt him finish with little more than a gasp and a quiver, then the expected happened. He moved out from underneath Stephanie, ignoring her as she immediately rolled away, grabbing her thin worn sheet to cover herself. Staring at his clothes on the floor scattered across the room, Stephanie listened as Tim sat on the edge of the mattress. She heard him tie off and throw away the condom. She heard him sigh, run his hand through his hair (she could do that for him, always, forever, as long as he wanted), then simply sit breathing for a moment.

Turn around, she wanted to ask, no, beg, Turn around and hold me. 

But he didn’t, instead he stood up, padded over to her tiny en-suite bathroom, and Stephanie heard him turn her cramped shower on. He’d come back through for his clothes, mutter about having to go finish the paper they both had not written on statistical thermodynamics that was due by the end of the week, and leave Stephanie behind, the room feeling much colder suddenly.

Stephanie continued to stare at his clothes, silently screeching as she watched, in an out of body experience, herself reach for his jacket. She was holding it reverently, back still to the bathroom. The noise of water running through old pipes stopped, and soon Tim emerged to the sight of Stephanie with her back to him, holding his denim jacket.

Piece by piece he collected his clothes, until all that remained was the darn coat.

She turned, resisting the urge to sniff and look pathetic, and handed it over. Remaining conscious of the fact that she was still naked and had yet to clean herself up, Stephanie twisted until she was sitting against the headboard, sheets pulled up under her arms. Determinedly, emptily, she stared at the foot of the bed.

“I have to work on that report,” Tim said, as expected.

Words would not come, so Stephanie nodded. Her throat closed up, feeling very tight. Damn, she really needed to open a window, the room was stifling and hot and must have stank - 

Tim paused at her door, then looked back.

“Steph?”

She made a humming noise in response, but continued to glare at her hidden feet.

“...I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

Oh. There it was. There was the broken heart. Of course. She wasn’t worth trying for, she wasn’t worth keeping, of course she knew this would happen. There was only ever going to be one outcome, so why should she feel her breath be stolen? Why should she feel her stomach turn in a nauseous tumble, threatening to remove any chance of dignity from this goodbye? She knew this would happen. 

And yet she burst into tears all the same.

Tim, to his usual oblivious idiot credit, looked mortified. “Wait - wait I…”

He came over, touching Stephanie’s shoulder. She flinched, strangling out a pathetic apology.

“I thought…!” Tim trailed off. “This is too hard for me! I can’t keep sleeping with you and pretending there’s nothing more. You don’t even look at me, let alone…”

“All I do is look at you,” Stephanie warbled. “And it isn’t enough.”

“You…” Tim got down on his knees, then took one of her hands, cradling them in his own. The distinctive dripping noise of fallen tears came, plip plop, onto the white bed sheet. Stephanie breathed unsteadily, then wiped them away. 

“Stephanie,” Tim tried again. “What would be enough for you?”

She said nothing, only shaking her head. “Tell me,” Tim urged.

“You wouldn’t be able to give it,” she whimpered.

“Try me.”

One hand moved into her hair, dishevelled and sweaty and tangled, stroking with his thumb the space behind her ear. She turned into the motion, finally looking at Tim on his knees before her. 

One last mistake, she told herself. Stephanie would hurt herself one more time.

“I want all of you,” she said.

Tim blinked twice, slowly, reminding Stephanie of a cat. Then, as if in slow motion, his blank expression melted, and his chest heaved a great sigh, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“I can give you that,” he said simply. 

“You…” Stephanie reached up, holding the wrist that cradled her hair. There was no pain, only a startling and intense feeling of hope. “You have all of me,” she whispered, pulling him up.

He perched himself back on the bed, letting the jacket fall once more to the floor.

“Then I guess we can keep doing this.”

And he kissed her, and all Stephanie’s mistakes felt right all at once.

[cyeayt]

Ambivalence OC Profiles

ive been tagging some posts as my ocs and i want to talk about them so here are the three main characters of my ambivalence oc set.

Ambivalence lore (very cliche but this story is more for me to process religious thoughts and weird relationships): its basically an incredibly stereotypical urban fantasy setting where there are realms/planes where magic is more distilled, there's a heaven and a hell analogue and like, werewolves, etc. There are a gods/demons that sometimes organize stuff and might try to end the world but eh. there's a group who tries to stop that happening but its centered around one specific god and gets v culty, they are referred to as "the knights" from here out. Ben spent his childhood as a 'chosen one' figure (he's half demon), and got really fed up with the whole bit. Alice was his friend and brief girlfriend when they were younger. During the last arc of their childhood and after the last big battle, their ragtag hero group gets absorbed into the knights who have been gaining numbers and legitimacy. Ben runs away and Alice takes it hard. The main story takes place a few years later when they reunite.

I've made them each in these three picrews to properly capture the vibe.

Ben:

Reuben (Ben), 24, he/him. Ben lives alone in a house he inherited from his maternal grandfather. He likes to live simply and peacefully, and works as a carpenter. His hobbies include pottery, gardening, and collage making. He is badger coded and capable of great violence, but is very calm most of the time. Since cutting ties with his old life, he has simultaneously mellowed out and repressed a lot of shit. He is trained to fight with a broadsword, although he turned his old one into a garden sculpture. He has a lot of scars and pain from old injuries. He is generally very stoic but is pretty emotional if you can read his understated facial expressions. He values the happiness and safety of himself and the people he loves, and dislikes liars. He can often be hypocritical and selfish.

Alice:

Alice P. Morrison, 23, she/her. Alice lives on a remote knight compound researching and developing ways to protect the balance of the planes. It is a very high stress environment and she's honestly pretty miserable. She likes caffeine and graph paper, her hobbies include sleeping and eating. Sometimes she goes hiking in the surrounding woods. Since Ben left, she has lost connections with old friends and mentors and become increasingly reliant on an unhealthy relationship with the director of the knight organization. She is trained to fight with only magic and can maybe use a spear. When she eventually gets out she will enjoy live music, painting, and reading nonfiction books. She's 'dog that you might think is a large rat or sick cat at first' coded. She shows her emotions pretty strongly and gets embarrassed easily. She cannot read facial expressions she just knows Ben really well. She values values knowledge and approval and dislikes apathy. She can be petty and stubborn.

Max:

Maximilian Hadley, 24, he/they. He certainly is here. Ben meets Max after leaving the knights and as Ben makes a new life he and Max build a relationship that Ben is hesitant to define, although Max would like to. They are outgoing and very socially adept, he likes fashion, history, and forming connections with people. his hobbies are a lot of what people around him want to do, but he personally enjoys horseback riding. Their family is very rich and owns a lot of animals. He knows little to nothing about magic, although his moms got up to their fair share of bullshit before he was born. He is not trained to fight but he would try to bite if it came to it. He is fancy cat coded and expresses his emotions carefully. They value connection, loyalty, and finesse. They dislike cruelty. He often struggles with boundaries and can be pushy or jealous.

Other Characters:

John: Ben and Alice's mentor figure, was not very good at the actual raising children part of it, was injured in the final battle and died as the knights were taking over.

Archer: Another mentor figure, they were closer to Ben and ended up faking their own death after he left. Was involved with John's sister.

John's sister: So very dead real narrative haunting gal she was prophetic and very mentally unstable about it.

Mason: Stereotypical fighter guy, was very close to Alice and Val, is still essentially loyal to the knights but doesn't talk to Alice anymore.

Val: Mason's partner and also fighter gal, was always quick to put herself at risk for the others and it caught up to her. She's been in a coma since the final battle.

[perayabubbleheart]

I always wondered why I had an unhealthy relationship with food. I never want to leave anything on my plate, even though I’m no longer hungry, never want to waste or throw away any. When I see someone hungry, it doesn’t matter whether it is a stranger or a friend, I always want to feed them. For the longest time I wondered why I am like this, so one day when I was scolding myself for finishing my plate, this particular memory flashed through my mind.

“Wake up, wake up!” I can hear through the daze as my mom shakes my body trying to wake me up. “We have to go.” she says and pulls the heavy blanket off my body.

Cold washes over me and I immediately get up. The room is dark, the only source of light is the half-burned candle that mama is holding. I find my worn off clothes and follow her out of the room. My little sister is waiting for us in the hallway, her shoes on, my mom blows the candle off and we head outside in complete darkness.

The streetlights are all broken, but the street is very bright thanks to the snow that was pammeling all day yesterday. A pack of stray dogs ran away barking as we passed by them. I shiver and bring my body closer to my mom’s, it’s cold and the icy wind is piercing through my body. The pit of my stomach tightens, I’m hungry but I don’t say anything to my mom, she has enough on her plate. Besides, it will only hurt her because she can’t do anything about it.

We make it to the little, one store building and join the other people who are waiting for their queue. The store hasn’t opened up yet, but tens of people are waiting just to get a slice of bread for their family. Many of them are women with children sleeping on their laps, on the cold ground covered with rubber mat and a blanket on top. There are only a few men, who shuffle uncomfortably from leg to leg, shivering in the cold.

The baker finally opens the window and the light shines through it, along with the delicious smell of freshly baked bread, making my stomach twist. People start murmuring and waking their children, trying to stay on the line. I can hear some of them arguing who came first, but it doesn’t last longer as everyone’s spirits are up. As the baker starts cutting and sharing hot loaves of bread, only several grams per person, per family, an old woman starts yelling. She accuses the baker of purposefully cutting the bread vigorously, so he could collect the large crumbs falling off of it. No one else says anything out of fear, but the old baker explains that he is not keeping the crumbs and it’s due to the bread being hot.

“It breaks my heart seeing my people suffer, fighting over the crumbs. My heart is bleeding for my lovely country, my home covered in blood.” My patriotic mom says under her breath, squeezing my hand harder.

Some time passes and my feet get numb from the cold and staying up for so long. I start complaining, I always did, but my mom tells me we have to wait until it’s our turn to get bread. I keep being cranky and then I look at my sister. She is staying quietly by mom’s side. She never cried, never complained and was always overlooked by my parents, which now makes me very guilty.

Suddenly, a group of armed men appears and everyone quiets down, keeping their eyes on them. A few men that are in the line try to hide behind their families, or other women as they pass by. One of them stopped looking at my mother, his friend looked at him questionably, but stopped with him, as the rest of the group trotted away.

“Where is your husband?” the man’s voice sliced the silence like thunder.

“I don’t know” my mom replies firmly and clearly, with no fear in her voice. But I could feel her hands shaking as she hid us behind her back.

“Don’t lie to me, you know where he is.” he starts cussing at her, using very graphic words as he visibly becomes angrier. “If you don’t tell me, I will fucking blow your brains out.” he says as he grabs her wrist and pulled her close to him. I start crying loudly, my stomach twisting harder, but not out of hunger this time. I’m unable to move, as if my feet were buried into the ground, but my brave little sister starts prying his finger off my mom’s wrist, biting his hand. He pushes her and she falls on the ground, but she just gets up and pats the snow from her clothes, not even one sound coming out of her mouth. I start crying louder and look at people for help, but they all are trying to protect their children and look away, like nothing is happening.

I see my little sister coming close to the man again, but this time my mom holds her little hand and tells her it’s ok, so she just stands by my mom’s side, eyeing the guy.

“Shut the fuck up” the man yells at me, as he pulls his large weapon and point it at my mom. She hugs her swollen belly protectively, as she looks the guy right in his eyes.

“I don’t know where he is, and that’s the truth,” she says, unwavering. “You can kill me, but I wouldn’t know what to tell you.”

“Bitch!” the man exclaimed and started pushing her shoulder and her belly with the muzzle of his weapon.

The crowd starts murmuring, and the guy’s friend catches the muzzle and tells him “That’s enough, let’s go.”

“But she is the wife of “garmi” person.” he tells his friend. (Garm is the former name of the Rasht District in Central Tajikistan. During the civil war, people from Kulyab now known as Khatlon region were killing people from Garm and Badakhshan.)

(Even though both my parents were born and raised in Dushanbe city, they still hunted them.)

“It doesn’t look like she knows anything. We should go.”

But the guy was still hesitant to leave, looking at my mom aggressively. “Can’t you see she is Pamiri too?” (Pamir mountains lie in Badakhshan area of Tajikistan).

“Come on, she is pregnant, don’t you see?” He tries to persuade the guy. “Aren’t you scared of Allah?” He tries to play the religion card, when he sees that the guy is still hesitant.

“Fine, but be careful next time bitch, don’t let me see you.” the guy utters in anger and pushes her to the ground.

I don’t remember anything after that. I remember waking up in my neighbor’s house, confused, as she tried to explain that I blacked out and they brought me there, because my mom and sister still had to wait for their turn to get that half loaf of the freshly baked bread.

The memory flashes through my mind, as I scold myself for finishing everything again. I hug myself and tell the little girl inside me: “It’s ok, you didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t have to finish it, it will still be here when you come back. No one will hurt you again, the food won’t disappear, you don’t have to fight for crumbs anymore.”

Now, almost 30 years later, people are still suffering the consequences of that war.

Beautiful mountains of Tajikistan 🇹🇯

Tajik people are very strong, hard-working people, who have been through so much pain and loss. But they stand strong and proud, loving their motherland no matter what. They are hospitable and respectful towards elders. The land has been drenched in blood of killed sons and tears of grieving mothers, it still cries for the loss of its people. But it still gives them strength to fight, to survive.

Dushanbe during the Civil War, and 30 years later.

[keefwho]

May 20 - 2024 Monday

10:40pm

3.5/10

This morning I woke up in a terrible mood. I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. I felt like an outcast in a way. But I figured like usual I'd get over it with time and tried to stick to my schedule. I shaved my body today and discovered the irmine I caught last night escaped his trap. He also shit in front of my door. I wasn't very hungry this morning so I just made a packet of soup. I got to stream a little late.

I warmed up with a few different things. I thought I was doing very poorly and sort of gave up by drawing basic shapes. My confidence was crushed today. I felt like I was being judged or not taken seriously for being in such a poor mood. I was extremely close to quitting and laying in bed but I committed to working on the commission for a couple hours. Eventually I started feeling a little better. DS showed me a nice YCH she wanted.

After stream I watched a few youtube videos on Minecraft anomalies until lunch time. I almost napped. When I took Sporticus out before lunch, mom said we'd be moving but the way she put it made me think it was going to be this year which was sudden. It was news I couldn't process at the time but I got the timeline cleared up since I misunderstood. This is happening next year or later which was already a plan I knew about. I again wasn't hungry for lunch so I made a can of beefaroni.

While I worked on a pic of Princess Celestia, I talked to JD for awhile about the housing situation and then about whatever. I JUST realized that I forgot to do today's request because I started shuffling the kinds of projects I work on throughout the week. So for some reason I thought it wasn't a request day but it was. Anyways, I also worked on my Mr Bean VRchat world and experimented with how I'm going to animate the lighting. I left JD early to use the bathroom before my therapy appointment.

Therapy was interesting, I went over what I've been journaling specifically for the appointments and he helped me realize that I'm overthinking and that it's contributing to my stress. I've begun using 'problem solving' as an unhealthy coping mechanism. I also told him about how I think I've been having trust issues lately and we started delving into that. He asked me something like "When have you given someone your all and experienced them leaving you?" This was a really good way to phrase it and I gave him a couple examples. I couldn't pull it all off the top of my head though and we were running out of time so my homework is to remember the kinds of relationships I've had and determine when I've experienced this kind of thing.

After therapy I decided to stay in VRchat and joined BD since she was on and I know it's her day off. She was playing Go Fish with DR so I joined them and it was very fun. He won most of the rounds, he even won on turn 1 which was so lucky. He did that by getting three 7's and asking me if I had a 7 which gave him an instant set of 4 which is a victory. Then we checked out a couple dog worlds and I got into my dog gear avatar to be funny. I didn't quite feel like I belonged, I sort of felt like a 3rd wheel. But I think they liked having me there.

I joined DS while she worked on her fursuit. We watched a Markiplier video and a She Ra, finishing season 2. We did our puzzles and she headed off for bed. I planned on spending the next hour alone doing something so I hopped on the Minecraft server. BR happened to be playing and invited me to a VC so we chatted and played together. It feels weird opening up to stuff like this. I always feel like no one wants to play anything with me so when it happens, I feel like they are just waiting to get me out of their hair even though they are the ones that approached me.

[vitos-ordination-song]

Growing up w brothers in a patriarchal family shaped me. My dad loved me. He was affectionate without me throughout childhood. I look back on my relationship w him in suspicion because there was a lot of unhealthy stuff going on there, but also, that affection was sustaining for me. I needed it and it helped me grow. I felt that he loved me in a way I really struggled to feel w my mother as I grew older. But my foundation of his love was marred by a shadow: he didn’t love my brothers.

I also have a little sister, and he did some fucked up stuff to her too, but he was really night and day w his sons and daughters, and I know from my aunt that he learned this from his father. He interacted with my brothers in two primary ways: punishment and harsh male bonding. He was affectionate with them sometimes but they were both terrified of him into their teen years. They would ask me, his favorite child, to ask him for things, because they knew he wouldn’t snap at me, and he never did when I asked for resources he usually jealously guarded. I can remember him getting violent with me twice. Once because I said he’d been drunk the night before (he’s been an alcoholic my entire life getting progressively worse), and once he slapped me across the face when I said I didn’t know if I believed in god. I was terrified of my mom, not just physically but more psychologically. My father, I didn’t fear at all—I sensed I had a power over him, and in fact told him off as if he was a boy when he got violent several times. I was able to subdue him. But my brothers feared him in the way a beaten dog would.

I think I always felt like I was betraying my brothers by being loved by my dad. It’s part of why I’m now estranged from him—I reject love which requires me to ignore the abuse of others. It hurt me that he did that even if he didn’t do it to me. Little children don’t have boundaries. I cared about my brothers. And it made me feel privileged in an unjust way; it made me aware of the arbitrary nature of favoritism. I never feared falling out of favor with him. It was my mom’s style to shift around favorites based on who was pleasing her or pissing her off. But I knew on a more fundamental level that it was possible for me to be treated as my brothers were being treated. Like, I wasn’t being loved for who I was or because I was his child or because I deserved it—it was his whim basically. As much as his love for me sustained me it made me sick.

I think I’ve always been fascinated with relationships between men for the reasons above. I enjoy trying to understand men. I never understood my father or why he did those things to my brothers. I understand domination rituals, women do them too, but the male version was something I was left out of. As much as my father kept the abuse for my brothers, he was also bringing them into manhood—and our family’s definition of that included skills I wasn’t allowed to learn, like any handy work or car stuff. I was excluded. I don’t actually think my dad taught them well but it was something I longed to be a part of as a girl. Why couldn’t I join Boy Scouts and learn how to start a fire? As I aged I began to realize how much my brothers were being hurt by all this male socialization and I stopped feeling jealous of it. Now I find it all fascinating.

I’m also interested in alternatives. Yes I was into gay male love stories but I read more stories about platonic male bonding. What would a good father look like, not just for me as a girl but how could a father raise sons well? What would it be like to have a grandfather (one of mine is a rapist and the other one also sucked)? How can men be friends to each other and to women in a world which seeks to destroy their decency, very often?

[1787americanrevnerd]

Wanda: *when sparky climbs into her lap* Oh, hi there precious, who's the best one? You are!

Wanda: *when Billy and/or Tommy sit next to her* What do you want?

[the-gay-trashmouth]

Okay so I binged q-force. Is it perfect? No. No its not- it's a comedy adult cartoon about gay spies. It was funny, it had that found family trope and it had it good rep. It had butch 4 butch rep (pam and Deb my loves) trans goth chicks, and even an older women in power who I have a permanent lesbian crush on. I see a lot of people complaining about the stereotypes - mostly Twink- but like.... Y'all realize stereotypical gay people exist, right? Like there are butch lesbians who BBQ on weekends and adopt way to many dogs. There are drag queens who are super extra and loud and sexual. There are alt queer people who like obscure shit and would maybe like to fuck robots- shut up

Like ... Gay people are allowed to act gay. Y'all know that right? Gay culture is built on the "weird". Q force gave us stereotypes but also broke them.

Twink is a top who can throw a punch and is fucking badass. His drag connections come in handy and offers them tons of Intel. I've seen people talk about how it's bad that he wants to be skinny but.... Yall know some people Wanna be skinny? And that's not a bad thing??? Like yeah it can be unhealthy but he never once commented on anyone else's weight negatively- and we had a diverse body types. Just in the force we had a muscle vers, a fat stud lesbian, a tall lanky hacker, a slim thicc drag queen, a chubby hunk, and a middle aged woman with actual proportions. Could I have done without some of the tummy tuck jokes? Yeah, sure, but y'all realize actual queens talk like that.

Then we have Deb- the only character with her life together. She and her wife are very very happy and secure and its like... One of the first butch 4 butch relationship I've seen on screen that healthy. She's a mechanic and was on surviver but she's also the mom of the group. She's in touch with her emotions, she rescues dogs, her happy place is on the phone with her wife- she is a black stud lesbian and she's not a cold mean shell of a person. How often do y'all see that????

And then Stat- STAT! she's weird!! And that's the point! She likes being weird!! She's a trans hacker badass and she fucked an AI!! She's herself and unapologetically so. While affection and emotions make her uncomfortable she's still the one to go after Twink on his birthday. She cares about them all, even in her weird goth way. Shes good rep for those of us who are the "ugly alt queer" people love to make fun of. And the force loves her and her weirdness! Her and twink- two characters on complete opposite sides of the stereotype spectrum- are like best friends. They could of had them hate each other but they don't! He loves her and her weird goth vibes, she doesn't understand his scene but loves him and his drag and never says a damn word. Also!! Her VA is a trans woman!!!!

And fucking Steve- he's the cis het ideal. Strong, masc, average gay man. He could pass as straight- but he doesn't?? He has a boyfriend (who isnt some fuckin super model with the same body- he's a shy bear with glasses and a suffocatingly loving family- also!!! No homophobic family side plot???? Unheard of!!!!) and half of his arc is trying to be there For Him. He's not some hyper masc guy who "happens to be gay but everyones surprised" There is no sub plot of him hiding himself or "being seen as het" he's just a vers with a dorky sense of humor and has a little gaggle of gays (plus buck) that he's adopted and co-parenting with his butch lesbian best friend. Also wlw mlm solidarity!!! Holy shit!!!! that's rare!!!!

Even Buck- who's prolly bi let's be real- goes through an arc and isnt a 2D prick- he loves those gays like family by the end. And that's the end message- community in each other and loving your fellow queer people. There's no fighting between them about being a stereotype. No one makes fun on Twink for being femme, every one gets so happy when Stat smiles, Pam and Deb are happily married and Pam automatically takes her wife's little gay family from work and goes "I love them :))) you should bring them over more."

No its not perfect- I wish there was more open trans rep and nb rep, I wish there was some ace aro rep and I wish there was less animated dick and I could do without some if the skinny jokes Twink made but y'all realize rep isn't ever gonna be perfect? Gay ppl aren't perfect. Gay people are allowed to be stereotypes and the amount of LGBTQ people who worked on the show made it realistic. There was never a point that I was like "this was written by straight people".

Y'all shot down a funny, well written comedy cartoon made by the gays for the gays and hate it because there's a femme drag queen? There's stereotypes?? We're never going to get good rep if y'all crucify everything we do get. That's not saying don't be critical, but don't attack queer writers and what little rep we have because it's not the perfect cookie cutter shape for gays.

[blzzrdstryr]

Reveries of the Past. Yandere!Childe x Fatui!gn!reader

Wordcount: 3875

CW: Dissociation, graphic depiction of violence, hallucinations, unhealthy relationship and unhealthy power dynamics.

A.N.: I used a lot of my experience with dissociations in this and if it makes you uncomfortable, I would advice not to read it. I also plan on writing continuation for this, as it’s set before the Rite of Descension. P.s. I am not a native English speaker, so could you notify me if there’s awkward wording.

[Next chapter]

There are plenty of times you find yourself reminiscing about the past and now, your mind slips back to your memories, as you look at the horribly mangled body of the treasure hoarder. The stench of blood stuffs up your nose, it’s sickly sweet metallic odor making your gut clench and nausea rise, as your limbs grow heavier and numb. You don’t feel  like you belong in your skin and bones and blood anymore - it’s cold, so cold, yet you don’t feel any of it. You are an outsider, an unwanted intruder in the house that is your body, an indifferent observer looking at the world through the thick glass.

The world around disfigures, shapes and colors changing in the constant whirlwind - they jump and dance around, small becoming large and large shrinking so much it’s barely visible, green shifts to red to blue and to yellow and to million of other colors, and sounds suddenly become muffled, losing their sharpness, but you don’t care about it: the part that is “you” fled to the daydreams of your childhood moments ago, leaving a clinically observing, yet unfeeling being behind. 

Adults would describe you as a perfect child: quiet, obedient and dutiful, you were a stark contrast to the other louder and more free spirited kids. You studied hard, cleaned the house, helped with dishes and cooking and never talked back. 

I can't upset mom and dad because they work so much. I can't play with other kids because if I do, they will make fun of me, I have to study hard and get good grades, because mom said I will have a good job and become rich and help them. 

These particular memories don't feel good to you: they're bleak and boring, yet full of silent shame - they make your throat clog and eyes water, as something burning starts to bloom deep underneath your skin. 

Childe stops beating the still alive treasure hoarder, a blood smeared on the cheek and a dangerous glint in his eyes, and turns his head to you. 

"Hey, how about lending me a helping hand?", there’s a hunger in his voice you recognize, he wants to teach a lesson to the debtors, then. You walk towards him, feeling your knees get weaker and weaker with each step for some reason. A dagger made of ice shines in your hand with cold light. 

"It's no wonder [First] received a vision! My [First] is always so good and smart, there are no children better" the exact words your mother says, as she brags to her friends, showing them the vision you were bestowed with. You left it to her, not caring what will happen to it - despite all the child's wonder you felt before receiving it, the glowing orb doesn’t look so amazing to you now. It feels foreign and ugly, a reminder of what happened seconds before you gained it. 

“You know, when I was a child”, he takes the weapon and focuses on the treasure hoarder’s leader again, “we made a special kind of promise”. It’s tip travels to the hoarder’s hand. “You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life”

The sweet voice he uses and the fact that you  know the nursery rhyme too would make you sick in the stomach the other day, but not now. 

You don’t exactly remember how you joined the Fatui - it happened shortly after you gained a vision, when you were still too numb and cold to the outside world after the Event. 

Mom will hate me, dad will hate me too. I can’t let them know.

Your parents say that officials just knocked on the front door one day and offered you an entry into the Fatui and a monthly salary, big enough to stop your parents from overworking themselves. You were terrified back then, Fatuis despite being known as a diplomatic organization are still a mystery to the ordinary Shezhnayan and a direct servants to Her will. The thought of disappointing Tsaritsa or letting down Snezhnaya was enough to paralyze you, but seeing the smiles on your parents faces was enough to make you swear to yourself, that you will work there no matter how scary it seems.

“You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice.” The blade stops between phalanges of the little finger: “The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend", he presses it, strong enough to detach the limb from the rest of the body in one swift slash. Treasure hoarder starts to cry and scream from the sudden pain, yet quickly chokes on it as Childe hits him in the solar plexus. The crack of bones feels deafening among the sea of muffled sounds.

Training was rigorous to say the least, you came back to your dorm room absolutely exhausted and after you fell on the bed you were practically dead to the world. Turns out, having a vision wasn’t enough to make you a fighter - you needed to know how to climb, swim, run with a weight to lift and wield a weapon. There were other children and teens with you, they eyed your vision with a mix of adoration and envy, you pretended not to catch it in turn.

“The frost will freeze your tongue off so you never lie again”, harbinger forces the victim's jaw apart by squeezing it with one hand, the other rapidly forcing a dagger inside the mouth. Treasure hoarder gasps and mumbles, fat tears forming in his eyes. A part of you expects a sound of parting flesh, but none comes: Tartaglia stands up and removes the blade, leaving a shivering and terrified man laying on the ground.

“Well,” Childe shrugs, as if he didn’t just dismember a person, voice back to his cheery tone : “You didn’t actually make a pinkie promise, so consider it a small mercy”. The treasure hoarder cowers even more, snuggling the injured hand close to the bruised chest. “But if you fail to repay your debt I will oversee that the frost”, he points in your direction, a treasure hoarder’s eyes going wide as he notices your vision, “will actually freeze your lying tongue off”, his voice descends again, back to it’s dangerous half-whisper.

You meet Ajax during the winter, he’s close to you in age and just arrived into Fatui grounds. He boasts and shows off to all of you, and you desperately want to retort something acidic to shut him up and rip off that arrogant bravado, yet say nothing, picturing how the tomorrow training session will have him laying flat on his back, too hurt and too tired to move even a single finger. 

He defeats the trainer in less than a minute.

Now, that the treasure hoarder fled, still snuggling disfigured limb, Childe turns attention back to you. “You seem a little bit disinterested here”, his hand on your cheek is so foreign, it’s burning and freezing at the same time, the shock from the unwanted touch almost strong enough to pull you back into reality. He notices your unintentional flinching and unfocused eyes “Ah, you hurt my feelings, [First]! And I thought we already became friends”. 

You say nothing, cold and unmoving, blind and deaf to the outside world, his words register a second too late, and there’s no cliche phrase for you to reply with. He looks a bit baffled and deflated for a second, but shrugs it off, just like he did during teen years, when you deliberately ignored all his attempts at catching your attention.

“Huh, even if you are so cold to me, I still forgive you”, he takes your hand, his touch still too overwhelming for you to process and pulls you back to Liyue harbor, your legs barely bending as you walk after him, like an obedient dog trailing it’s master.

“You know [First], I can beat you up so badly, that you will barely walk”, you put feather aside, stopping writing the letter to your parents as you glare at Ajax with barely masked indignation. He grins, satisfied to finally catch your attention after the whole day of pestering you. “I am aware of that” you reply in an absolutely flat tone, holding yourself from pouncing on him and trying to break the teeth out of that smug smile. He beams even wider, as if sensing your not-so-good intentions, revealing even more pearly whites as if taunting you.

“But I won’t, count yourself lucky”. And he leaves, this short interaction filling you with so much rage that you shake, handwritten letters noticeably becoming sharper and faster, your thoughts clouding around the idea of acquating his face with your boots. 

 Nonetheless, you indeed count yourself fortunate enough, when you see Ajax defeating grown men with bare hands. When you two, the only vision holders among your peers have to spar, he always goes easy on you, prefering to immobilize you rather than beating, making your defeat less painful yet even more humiliating. 

Almost at the end of your trail he suddenly stops and says something, but you don't catch it, words turning into separate vowels and then fusing together into one unintelligible gibberish mess. He leans in, close enough for his breath to burn your neck, and he continues to get closer, until his empty eyes look into yours glazed ones. He seems disappointed for a second and backs down, his breathing no longer fanning your skin. 

Distantly you think that you somehow angered him and he will slap you for it, and do nothing to dodge the hit - you barely feel pain in this condition anyway, but he doesn’t. The road to the Northland Bank is completed in absolute silence, Childe no longer trying to grab your attention, only when you enter Liyue Harbor does he whisper, that you two must look like a pair with all that hand holding. Judging by the volume and tone of his voice he says it more to himself than to you.

***

You come back to yourself in the safety of your room on the third room of the Northland bank. It feels like a rush of sensation, as everything becomes sharper and clearer again, like you just swam to the surface of water from the very depths of it. An invisible bubble around your head pops in one moment, and the world becomes real again, mind and body connecting for once more.

Eyes and ears focused you take in surroundings: the room is neat and lifelessly empty - just a bed and a working desk with a stack of written but unsent letters, along with a small bookcase near, no figurines, pictures or even plants to decorate living place, as you see no reason to adorn the area you use for sleeping only. Indiscernible wallpapers and a small window close to the middle of the bed finish the picture of austerity.

 Once, your memory catches up to you, you can't help groan from the shame and irritation, hiding your face in both hands. Afterwards  always feels both like a disgraceful escape and a warm blanket during the stormy night, a duality that you accepted long ago after joining the Fatui and today is no exception. You curse Harbinger when you remember why exactly you had an episode, and get up from the bed you threw yourself on minutes ago. You come to the desk, taking a clean form of a relocation request from the drawer and writing materials. 

Filling in the blank feels like commiting a felony to you for some reason - you stop several times when you hear footsteps in the corridor, focusing on the door,ready to hide the half written form and say some lie as an excuse. You don't list the Childe-related reasons, knowing that there's nothing that could make any of the Harbingers face the consequence for their actions, and instead you write completely normal and fake causes: health concerns, family matters and so on. Part of you doubts that this will work and you will have the fortune to get away from a certain harbinger as far as possible. Trying and failing is better than never attempting, you think, quickly writing the paper.

Once you finish it, you almost rush to Ekaterina, praying that you won't run into a certain ginger on the way. Sometime ago you caught Tartaglia checking your letters, for a secrecy he said back then, we can’t let anyone know about the coming operation. Childe then instilled that every sent and received letter should be checked, lest Qixing and other Liyuens learned what Fatui had in plan. It sounded logical and sensible, but the paranoid thought that he enforced this policy just to have a glimpse at your feelings never stopped eating at you. From that day on you sent your family the most basic and vague letters, just stating that you’re in good health and mind, still missing them and Snezhnaya, leaving the ones with more private sentiments in your room. 

Her eyes are completely obscured by the mask, but even with that you can’t miss the pointed glare she sends your way - Tartaglia never shied away from showing off, be it his strength, money or his twisted obsession that he calls love. With the amount of time and finances he spends on you and the way he acts like a kicked lovesick puppy in your vicinity, you are pretty sure that at least half of the bank workers see you as a cunning and cruel seducer, so keen and devious in the art of temptation that you managed to lure in Eleventh Harbinger.

As if archons decided to laugh at you, Childe descends from the second floor too, catching the sight of you near the receptionist. He looks unusually somber for a moment, but then he sees you, a smile appearing on his face as he takes the form from Ekaterina's hands. You can just feel how Ekaterina rolls her eyes under the mask, as if muttering complaints about the lovers’ spat and insubordination, having been working with her for some time, enough to have a clue of the inner workings of her mind.

You have to give him that he plays the confusion and regret very persuasively. He asks how he can fix this, says what a valuable team member you are to him and how much you are needed in the Northland bank. You agree to his suggestion - if years of training with Ajax and then work with Childe taught you anything, it is that Ajax is the chaos incarnate and Tartaglia is Ajax’s less tolerable and more unpredictable version, so it’s better not to anger him.

***

In the end he invites you to dine with him at Wanmin restaurant, a place Childe heard from some “xiansheng” as he called them. A bustling Liyue street is open before you two, tall midday sun painting the whole street into bright orange, so unlike the pristine white landscapes of Snezhnaya. He orders two Black Back Perch Stews on the chef's recommendations, and hands a bouquet of local flowers in a parody of a normal boyfriend. Any random observer would really see it as a date.

You take the flowers, pretending to pay more attention to  them than to a man sitting near you. Tartaglia is an unpredictability wrapped in human skin, there’s no privilege as being lax and carefree near him, as even Tsaritsa has no idea what he will do next. 

To your mutual confusion Xiangling presents the meal with two pairs of chopsticks. Utensils feel foreign in your palm, you having no idea how to handle them and Childe, by the looks of it too. Tartaglia specifically asks the chef for spoons, while you observe the other clients, noting how they use theirs. Holding one stick like a pen and then placing the bottom one in a fixed position under the thumb you manage to grasp the fish from the soup, albeit clumsily. You consider it a small win. 

The image of a mighty Harbinger struggling in a failing battle with chopsticks would look funny to you, if it wasn’t for the whole "date" you were having. After putting them aside, and seemingly admitting defeat, Childe starts from afar: "You know [First], you changed a lot since I first met you" .

You raise an eyebrow at the starter, it's vague and innocent enough, but experience tells you that he will or at least try to stir the conversation into your relationship with him again. Straightening a bit and finally turning your eyes to him, you pause for a second, picking the least offensive reply you can muster - there’s a swarm of insults buzzing at the tip of your tongue prepared just for him, growing and sprouting since your pubescent years.

“Yes, I got taller”, he laughs it off, like you said some funny joke, his giggles not stopping for some time. "No, I mean as a person. Remember how you used to glare at me for joking? And now you act so unfazed ”

Joking. Is this what he calls it? Shivers creep up your spine when your memory oh so conveniently conjures the images of the aftermath of his jokes.

“Your jokes weren’t funny to anyone but you”. Breathe, you think, there’s no need to anger him. There are pictures of broken bones and bruised bodies and a cacophony of somebody else’s pained screams flashing and rattling in your head, Adults never did anything. Why would they? They had a golden boy Ajax, why would they help the others when they had him? Why would they help you? Bitterness and anger you thought you swallowed long ago rise up to the surface again, and you decide to bite down on the stew - Tartaglia always found a way to turn your words against you and hurt you, no need to give him more weapons now.

“I changed a lot too. I know I was insufferable as a teen”, he must have taken your silence as a free pass to continue whatever nonsense he’s sprouting, “I am sorry”.

The last three words catch you off guard, a piece of fish almost stuck in the throat from the jolt. Ajax takes you by surprise once again, for him to finally acknowledge and apologize for all the pain he caused and years he tormented you?

You blink and look at him intently, his facial expression changing into an unusually somber one. It seems authentic enough.

“Let’s start from the scratch?

You contemplate unsure what to say.

Was he lying?

Looking back, you in a sense are luckier than most of Childe's victims, witnessing his youth, familiarizing and distinguishing the tells of him lying and scheming, observing the way he bloomed into the manipulator he is today firsthand. You see a familiarity in his face and voice, something that helps you from falling to his charms. There's also the added fact that you were and still are an involuntary witness to the way how carnal and bloodthirsty usually friendly Ajax can become. 

When did you catch his attention?

You remember his smile when he first approached you, less teeth and more sincerity that is thereafter,a hand outstretched to you. It happens on the next day after his arrival, almost as cold and unpleasant as the previous one. You brush the limb away like a noisy fly, secretly angry at his arrogant attitude and how effortlessly he endured training. His smiling doesn’t stop, yet you feel a sudden change in the air around you.

Would your fate be different if you took his hand?

You can't forget how your mind disconnected from your body for the second time. It was Ajax again vying for your attention akin to a spoiled child, and like one he threw a tantrum when you refused to give him any. The poor recruit you were talking with was hospitalized the same day, as you helplessly watched the carnage before you. You didn't fight, you didn’t flee, you just froze, like a scared animal, paralyzed by fear, yet somehow too detached from feelings. That day was bizarre: once you felt reality, it was solid and undeniable and then you didn't. The realness of the current diffused, slipped through the fingers like sand, leaving nothing but unreliable and delusive reveries behind.

Will he let you go? 

“People do change and I see that you changed too. I don’t think of you as a teen you were” you carefully pick the words, Tartaglia visibly blooms, thinking that his apology worked, yet your next words snuff out his triumph: “but my memories stay the same. I don’t think we can start from scratch”

You bite the tongue, the second part still coming out too harsh for your liking. The moment of sincerity is interrupted, you see him, changing the masks, unsure what to do. It seems for the first time it was you who caught him off guard. You guess which one of the two standard facades he will decide to show to you, having spent years by his side to observe him masterfully wielding both, the friendly one with a vacant smile that never reaches his dead, dead eyes or the calculating one, distant and devoid of humanity?

In the end he uses none, a hurt still evident, dripping in his tone, face and moves - is it another mask you never got to see or is it real? - “So that is your answer”, he leans in closer, dull cerulean eyes looking right into yours.

You hold his stare, nodding, instead of saying anything and he hums, sitting back and wearing the cold mask, reserved for his enemies: “Just wanted to remind you that I am the Harbinger and you are just a position higher than an ordinary agent”. Despite seeing it so many times, it’s the first time he directs it at you and you have to suppress the shiver. The unsaid threat hangs heavy in the air, suffocating you.

You two are no longer solemn [First] and annoying Ajax, who trails your steps behind like a puppy, no, you are a special agent [Last] and Eleventh Fatui Harbinger Tartaglia, to whom you are personally assigned by Tsaritsa herself. Even possessing vision and delusion yourself you can’t match Childe’s power, and your loss would be easy to overlook if your harbinger wished for it. Honestly speaking, there are a lot of things he could do to you without anyone questioning it, the Harbingers being the second most powerful figures in the organization, right after Tsaritsa herself. You heard the stories of Krupp and other assistants who got missing under Il Dottore, you heard of horrible accidents happening to the people Scaramouche dislikes, you heard about the injuries Signora inflicts on the unfortunate recruits when she is in foul mood, yet you never thought that Tartaglia will abuse his power in the same way.

“Don’t worry” he seems to have taken mercy on you, “I won’t use my position like that, it’s cheating and I like to play the fair game”, despite the seemingly reassuring words , you don’t let yourself relax, knowing him for years.

“Don’t think I will back down though, I am not the type to give up”

[tf2-hellhole]

can we get some fluffy tf2 headcannons? giving you full creative liberty over this one! :)

Idk if you meant tf2 x reader headcanons or just general head canons, so I did two sections for each merc; the first point is a general headcanon, the second is X Reader.

sorry this took forEEEEEEEEVER, I was just experiencing burnout and working on a prize for a contest on my server (BTW WE HAVE A NEW DRAWING CONTEST GO CHECK IT OUT)

Scout:

Scout is actually really self-concious about his intelligence. He’s not very bright and he knows it, and it makes him feel horrible. He had flunked out of high school and struggled in most of his core classes. He honestly feels really stupid and he hates when people point it out. But luckily for him, a lot of the other mercs understand what it’s like to be looked down upon and empathize with him. Quite a few of them help him relearn the skills he never mastered in school. Engie helps him with math, Spy sometimes helps him with writing, and even Pyro has him read children’s books to them to improve his reading.

Scout absolutely loves little casual dates. Stuff like going out to eat lunch, going to the movies, maybe just cuddling up in his quarters and watching a movie. He tries to plan one every week. His dream date is taking you back to Boston to meet his family and go to a Red Sox game. But obviously, since you’re both in New Mexico at the time, he’s going to have to shelve that dream for a few years.

Soldier:

Soldier is an excellent raccoon dad. At first, the other mercenaries thought they’d all end up dead by the end of the month when he first found them. But surprisingly, they are are very well cared for. They’re all fed regularly and basically have his entire assigned quarters to themselves. He loves every single one of them dearly, even the ones that hiss and scratch him every time. The raccoons, at least some of them, are kind of like weird, quiet dogs, and actually get along pretty well with most of the other mercenaries.

Soldier is a surprisingly very physically affectionate partner, and he’s not at all opposed to PDA. He loves hand holding, cheek kisses, cuddles, the whole nine yards. Whenever he’s particularly excited, he loves to run up to you, scoop you up into his arms, and press a hard, sloppy kiss to your lips. Of course, he’s careful to not hurt you, but he’s a very intense, emotional guy and he needs to express all that love he has for you!

Pyro:

Pyro is and excellent listener, so they’re a person a lot of the other mercenaries depend on to vent. Demo often comes to them to vent about his emotions, Scout, Sniper, or Medic will rant about what’s bothering them, and even Engineer will talk about his stress. And of course, Pyro doesn’t understand a lot of what is told to them, but they’re still happy to help them feel a little better, and they would happily do it a hundred times over to make their friends feel better.

Pyro has a hobby of baking and making candy/treats, and they love sharing everything they make with you. When they first gave you a treat, you honestly thought it’d be burnt or bad in some other way. But to your surprise, it was amazing! They’re actually and excellent cook, but they just love making sweet things the best. They’ll make you just about anything you could ask for without hesitation, but they’re best at making anything sweet.

Demo:

Demo obviously has the potential to pretty emotional when he’s drunk, there’s no doubt about that. But on the off-chance that he’s sober, he’s actually pretty sweet and considerate. Though he still is a rough-housing joker, he’s much more considerate of his friends’ feelings and has deeper and more meaningful conversations with them. He often likes to go to bars with his friends and co-workers on ceasefire weekends, having lots of fun conversation, drinking together, and generally causing chaos around town.

Demo, to put it simply, doesn’t like himself. He’s critical of everything, from his skills to race, because people have always put him down about them. His mother told him he’s lazy and unskilled too many times to count, just everyone makes fun of his eye, and many have made fun of his skin color. But you make him feel so much better about himself. Just the fact that someone so kind and gorgeous is actually with him makes him feel like he’s not as horrible as he thought. There’s been a couple of times where you’ve accidentally almost brought him to tears with a sweet compliment or show of affection, because he never thought in a million years that someone would love him and care for him like you do. He feels so blessed that he has someone like you.

Heavy:

I know the fandom’s decided that Engie is the Team Mom and makes the food, but I also think that Heavy cooks a lot too. He makes all of his own food, so he often makes a lot of extras to feed the team because a lot of them just eat junk food and Medic’s always complaining about their eating habits. Heavy often takes like half the food for himself (he does have a huge appetite and loves food, so he likes to take a lot) and just boxes up the leftover portions and leaves them in the fridge for the team to take. He says he’s only doing it because they can’t work properly if they’re unhealthy, but he also does it because he cares about their health. A little bit.

At first, you wouldn’t think Heavy’s the most cuddly guy. But surprise, he actually loves giving and receiving physical affection. He just doesn’t show it often out of respect for your boundaries, and doesn’t do it around others. His absolute favorite thing is to cuddle you against his chest. Sometimes it’s when going to sleep, or cuddling on the couch, or maybe just a quick hug. He just loves the feeling of your head resting against his chest and your arms trying (and failing) to wrap around his torso. It makes him feel like you’re safe. Nobody could ever get you when you’re wrapped up in his arms.

Engie:

You’d think Sniper’s the only nature nerd on the team, but Engie absolutely loves the outdoors, as well as animals. It’s because his father would often take him out camping every couple of months. It was often the only time he would get 1-on-1 time with his usually very busy father. So he does love the great outdoors, especially that of his home state. He especially loves animals. He was raised on a farm and helped take care of lots of injured wild animals with his mother. He absolutely loves pets and would like to have many when he retires. His dream is to have is own ranch, with horses and cows and a bunch of dogs and the whole shebang.

Engie absolutely loves playing the guitar, so of course he loves playing for you. He learns all sorts of sweet love songs to sing to you. He’s an excellent player and actually has a pretty decent singing voice (think Johnny Cash, he kinda has that singing style). I hope you like country music, because that’s all he’s going to sing to you until you give him some requests or he finds out your favorite artists or genres. You can tell how happy he is every time he gets to surprise you with a new song he learned, and he’d be a giddy, laughing mess if you sang along with him.

Medic:

You’d think this guy takes horrible care of his birds because of the environment he keeps them in, but his birds are actually exceptionally well cared for. He buys them only the best and most expensive bird food, gives them super high-quality water with vitamins n stuff in it, takes them to the vet regularly, the whole shebang. Yeah they get a little dirty from sitting around in his lab, but he always gives them a little bath at the end of the day to get all the blood and guts off.

Medic is honestly such a playful partner. Of course, around his co-workers he’s a little more professional; he still gives you soft touches, a kiss on the cheek, or a big smile, but that’s about it. In private, however, he’s such a sweetheart. He’s always sweeping you up into big hugs, kissing all over your face, and calling you all sorts of adorable nicknames in a variety of languages. It comes as a surprise, because you’d think he’d be a little more formal, but that’s really only for special occasions. It honestly brings him so much joy to have someone like you by his side, and every day he’s going to make sure you know just how grateful he is to have you in his life.

Sniper:

Sniper is an incredibly independent and self-sufficient man, but he’s also secretly a real mama’s boy. He loves his parents dearly and has a particularly close relationship with his mother. As well as sending them money every month, he sends them all sorts of gifts, letters, postcards, and souvenirs. He also makes sure to call them regularly. He goes home every couple of months to visit them, and one could see that he loves helping around the house and chatting with his parents. His mother loved gardening, so his number-1 favorite thing to do is help her in the garden.

Despite Sniper’s obvious lack of knowledge on self-care, he takes a lot of time out of his day to make sure you are happy, healthy, clean, and well-fed. He doesn’t hound you like a helicopter parent but he likes to ask how you’re feeling, if you’re hungry, stuff like that. It feels nice to know you’re taken care of or take care of you himself. If you switch it around and try to take care of him, however, he’s honestly baffled as to why you would care so much as to make sure he’s doing well. He does absolutely love the affection and attention he gets out of it though, it makes him feel loved.

Spy:

I’ve mentioned this before, but I have a head canon that Spy has a dog. Her name is Charlotte, and she’s an elderly Chihuahua. One would think he’d buy a French breed, but he found her out in the pouring rain one day and fell in love with her fluffy ears and spunky personality. She’s now 17 years old, extremely frail, missing most of her teeth, and extremely aggressive to anyone other than Spy, but he loves her dearly and pays for all of her medical expenses without batting an eye. And of course, she expresses her thanks with lots of kisses.

Spy loves dancing, and knows all kinds of dances, from flamenco to ballroom dancing to the Charleston to, canonically, disco. So of course, he’s dying to share all of the most romantic dances he knows with you. He’d love to actually teach you how to dance, rewarding you with kisses every time you finally get a move right and laughing softly when you make mistakes. But in reality, he just wants to use it as an excuse to dance with you against his chest and smother you in affection.

[nelllover]

Okay I'm finally at season 3 and there is so much stuff that I want to talk about so here I go (I'll talk about the Lit/Rory part of the episode in my next post):

First of all, the opening scene is so evil!!! I still remember the first time I watched it and even though I knew that Luke and Lorelai didn't get together this season (I went into the show knowing how it ended) I still had a moment where I thought: "Wait what's going on did I skip a bunch of seasons or something???"

anyway, Lorelai calls Rory and even Rory the Queen of denial herself is like "Mom you're in love with Luke" and Lorelai goes into denial about it (is that a genetical trait?)

Okay but what the hell was Rory's and I quote "Taylor hula-hooping dream" like am I supposed to just ignore that??? and what do you mean he had Dean's hair??? I need more context!!!

Paris quoting politicians in her sleep is one the best bit this show has ever done in my opinion it will never not make me laugh.

Okay but Sookie trying to make Jackson comfortable with the way the house looks is adorable (although not needed).

When I was watching the episode with my mom, she asked me who put the banana peel on Taylor's doorstep and I'm like 99% sure that we never found out and now I need to know!!!

By the way I love Lorelai's outfit with the bob hat!!

The fact that Luke stood his ground with Lorelai all summer is honestly impressive and also showcases how much he actually cares about Jess and while I hate the thought of JavaJunkie not getting along I do love the fact that Luke prioritizes Jess.

I love Jamie he is adorable, and I hate the way things ended between him and Paris. (Also, I still see Paris and that professor kissing in my nightmares bleh)

Rory and Lorelai reuniting is such a sweet scene I'm the first to talk about how unhealthy their relationship can be but it's scenes like that one that makes me love them still!!!

Okay I know that Lorelai was joking about the dogs but why does that sounds like something she would actually do?

Another instant of my mother and Lorelai being freakishly similar! every time I'm gone for as little as one night my pillow (and some of my clothes) will have disappeared it's as if no mother on earth as a good pillow!!!

I am not even going to acknowledge Christopher's existence because doing so will give me hives. But all I will say is he sucks, and I pity Sherry for having to carry his child.

And the Hazy Lazy Days of Summer song is stuck in my head once again!!!

Emily always blaming Lorelai for everything that happens with Chris always makes me so mad!!!! but sadly I'm never surprised. Although Richard jumping in and being on Christopher's side kind of surprises me, (I honestly didn't remember!) I know that Richard is really traditional but come on!!!

The scene of Luke and Lorelai making up is sweet!!!

"Come again, Mimi."

Also, Lauren's acting in that scene is amazing!!!

While this isn't the best episode in the season, I still love it!!!

[mbrainspaz]

Very long convo with gran today that was basically me just rehashing points I'd made before but all at once. I think I got her to see how her situation where she wrote and burned a letter to her deceased abusive mom is not the same as me not wanting to make small talk with my aggressively evangelical mother who doesn't respect my autonomy and reports on me to my abusive dad. I don't think gran's accepted that this isn't a problem she can 'fix.' She knows I've given my mom some assigned reading to try and get us to a point where we can actually have an informed conversation about gender and maybe politics. But the fact is that while she adheres to biblical fundamentalist beliefs my mom will never be able to respect me, and those beliefs mean more to her than I do. Nothing anybody can do to change that.

Gran still wants to ramble on about the 'grudges' and 'hate' I'm 'holding on to,' so that probably won't be the last I hear of that. She can't grasp that I don't have any anger toward them. Just a feeling of disappointment. She can't understand that all I did was recognize these people in my life who were acting in a way that was unhealthy toward me, ask them to stop, and when they didn't, I removed myself. Of course, gran doesn't respect me very much either, not enough to care about my name or pronouns or any of the things I'm really passionate about, so it's weird having these talks over and over again.

She tried several times to convince me that my relationship with my mom would be solved if we just agreed to never talk politics or religion again. I don't understand how anyone could think that would work in any kind of meaningful relationship. I asked her what the point of pretending to get along with my mom would be and she didn't really have an answer. I smiled and pretended to be civil in my dad's company for two years and what did that solve? Now I had to block his number and he's been sending me sinister vague emails. A relationship without mutual trust and respect is one you're better off without.

Most interesting part of the convo was when I asked her what the best case scenario looks like for her. I asked her what she thinks having a loving family means. All I could get out of her was 'I wish you could go to the lake with us again,' by which I'm gonna assume she means Quality Time. All she wants is to be surrounded by family and friends at the lake. That's probably doable, honestly. I'd still go to the lake and drink all my uncle's whisky while I write my book in the corner with my headphones on so that I don't have to listen to all the latest morally depraved conservative talking points. It's not like my dad will ever go to the lake because he's too homophobic to visit a house owned by my gay uncle (who is also a conservative yeah). The only barriers to me visiting are usually my latest peasant labor situation or my uncle's partner deciding he doesn't want dogs on the designer carpets. I've offered to camp in my car with the dogs. C'mon, that would be objectively funny on their fountain rotunda driveway. Me? I still want a family that cares enough to go to a protest or a rally with me. Hell, I'd settle for a family that clicked 'like' on my comic posts or showed up once a year to watch me ride a horse. I feel like that's not a huge ask but it would make me feel loved. They don't do those things because they haven't taken time to understand or care about me in a decade. There have been times when they showed up for me in the past. There were times when I felt loved. That was a long time ago. I don't think enough people ask themselves what a loving family looks like.

Then we went shopping at a decor store and I bought a pumpkin with a cute little snake on it. Gran gave me a hug goodbye and her perfume still smells like home. I love her for caring enough to meet up and talk to me even if we didn't 'fix' anything.